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Big day

Spent the day covered in newsprint:

Now comes the time of year when stories must be submitted for contests and other notable honors. This is a multiple-day process that will stretch into next week, includes solving Byzantine riddles and parsing out the meaning of a rough online translation of a fortune cookie’s first draft.

There are very precise rules for news contests. It requires a great deal of precise effort, because imprecision means disqualification. It is a mess, really. But then you think of the person who must deal with the many submissions.

He is a kind man, and he welcomes dealing with these submissions and finding judges and sending out the clips and getting them returned and sorting out winners and he does it in a contest that can have about 30 categories for dozens of schools. He’s also a patient, hardworking man. And he needs these rules in place, just to make sense of it all.

So you can’t complain, really. Almost every one of the rules makes sense when you see it from his point of view. And if you heard the reasoning behind the other two or three rules you’d probably think, “Yeah, well, that figures too.”

Which doesn’t exactly make the entire process fun, but it is an important one. And, as I said, will stretch into next week.

Busy day otherwise. Jefferson County voted to file for bankruptcy, the largest municipal failure in the history of the United States. Here’s a fine timeline on the issue from August. It saddens me to read that. This story has been going on my entire adult life.

Indeed, it was one of the first stories I ever reported on the radio. And even back then it seemed like this would go on forever. More than a decade later, they’ve avoided the bankruptcy for as long as possible.

And so here’s the next story, the numb and numbly titled Now What?

Speaking of the radio, I returned to the old format for about five minutes this evening. Ingram Smith, sitting in for Chuck Oliver, asked all the right questions about a football game coming up this weekend. I surely gave all the wrong answers. The final conclusion: if the ball bounces the right way the Deep South’s Oldest Rivalry will have a close finish.

Speaking of football and old and tradition and finishing … Here’s the historic Penn State press conference from this evening. I especially like when the students in the room started asking questions.

That will be around water coolers for a good long while.

journalism / links / Samford / Thursday — Comments Off
3
Nov 11

Memory and tradition dictate

Oh you thought you knew all about barbecue:

One historian speculates that the slow-cooking method of barbecue stems from a long tradition of general slowness in the South, (Bass 311), and maybe that is the reason that the South has been slow to abandon its traditional foodways. Other theories include the relative poverty of the South compared to the rest of the region, and a resulting reliance on familiar (and easily and cheaply procured) foods. Slow-cooking methods can transform tough and stringy meats and vegetables into delicious meals, and canning and preserving bountiful summer foodstuffs is an economical Southern custom. Cooking with pork adds flavor without expensive seasoning. The Depression which enveloped the United States in the mid-twentieth century was nothing new for most Southerners– poverty was a way of life for many Southerners long before it affected the rest of the country.

Another reason for the strong tradition inherent in Southern cooking is the emphasis on tradition in most aspects of Southern culture. Most Southerners are proud of their traditions– for hospitality, for strong family ties, and for a lavishly laid table.

[…]

Simmering vegetables for hours on the back of the stove made sense in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries– the stove was already lit, and the cook could tend to her many other chores without worrying about the greens and fatback (or butter beans or stewed corn or other vegetables). They would peacefully simmer at low heat, and would provide a meal (along with some biscuits or cornbread) when her other chores were finished. Today, this method is not convenient, but it persists. When Georgia Brown’s, a restaurant specializing in Southern food in Washington D.C., started serving collard greens that were cooked quickly to retain crispness and nutrients, patrons complained. Now, the restaurant serves collards both ways. Obviously, convenience is not the main factor in food preparation in the South anymore– memory and tradition dictate some food choices.

The sociology of food would be an interesting field, but it would always leave you hungry. You’d only find yourself stuffed when you disagreed with someone’s obviously wrong conclusion.

That’s from the Department of American Studies at Virginia, where they will also demonstrate the complexities and contradictions of America in the 1930s. Read everything there, go back in time and fit right in. It has only been 80 years, but that’s our world and our great-grandparents world do have some differences. We have, for example, successfully learned to keep giant gorillas off the Empire State Building.

A touching feature story from Ohio, where Sgt. 1st Class Steven Jessie is being forced out of the guard after a 30-year career. His last duty assignment has been working honor guards at funerals, having participated in more than 1,000 burials.

“I don’t necessarily believe that the guest of honor can look down from the great beyond. But, if he can, he will see that his remains are being treated with honor.”

Fifteen minutes later, Charlie Smith’s family arrived. The ceremony unfolded. The flag was folded. And presented to Mike Smith, Charlie’s son.

Jessie gave a special emphasis when he said the word “appreciation” as he presented the flag to the GI’s son.

Smith noticed. After the funeral, he walked to where the honor guard stood. The trio had marched from the crest of the hill to a valley out of sight of the procession.

Smith shook Jessie’s hand.

“It meant a lot to know a man who took up the call of duty for his country,” Smith said, “hasn’t been forgotten.”

He turned and walked away, still clutching the flag in the same position in which he received it from Jessie.

My great-grandfather, a decorated World War II medic, had asked only for a VFW honor guard, which was simple and sweet and somehow not enough, but that was his way and the family’s wish.

This function of military ceremony, though, at once critical and tragic, is an interesting area. You’re one of the main players in some terrible, traumatic moment of people’s lives, whether you’re talking about old gray veterans or active duty service members. The other side of it is the notification. There was an understated movie — which was greatly harmed by one too many subplots — on the topic:

The really moving piece on the subject, however, is this slide show and the incredible Pulitzer Prize-winning feature writing that accompanied it. Sadly the paper that published it, The Rocky Mountain News has since folded, but Jim Sheeler and Todd Heisler’s work is enduring, as they followed a notification and burial detail for a year. They tell this story from a Marine’s return home, to his funeral, before his child is born. The photographs just build and build and then the last one, one you might not expect, punches you in the throat.

Back to the story on Sgt. Jessie, then, where the funeral director says he’s seen soldiers who can’t fold the flag. But he knows: when Jessie is there everything will be right. That’s a job to be taken seriously, nice to see there are men and women who do it.

Class today. It was otherwise one of those days that slips away in chunks that you can’t quite explain. I did read a lot though. There’s always a lot of reading, it seems. Should have gotten more done than I managed to, but that’s what tomorrow and next week are for.

links / movies / Samford / Wednesday — Comments Off
26
Oct 11

Grounded to my chair

The bulk of my day today was invested in conference planning. I was elected sometime back as a vice-chair of a division of a conference that we attend each year.

This means that in the summer I send out a call for papers. In the fall the papers role into my inbox. The scholarly work is then submitted to academics who read the papers under blind review, which is to say that the author never knows who the reviewer is and vice versa. The system generally works well, so long as you have enough reviewers. In this case I was fortunate.

So the reviews have come back and now I must determine the order of things for the subsequent conference. These papers go here, these go there and that sort of thing.

All of this being done under Outlook Web App, our new campus email platform, of which I am not a big fan. I’m sure others appreciate it more, but it has bugs — little tiny ants are crawling across my email — and the organization of it isn’t as intuitive to me as other email systems.

The archiving seems solid, and this is an important thing, though finding things at a glance is challenging. But, hey, at least I can use a cupcake theme! There is also a robot theme, cats, varying colors and other things. Microsoft Outlook could work on making the thing work in browsers — it tends to not be responsive to any clicks should it log out and force me to sign in again. That being too much to ask, they’ve offered me a nice leaf theme to run across the top of the page for autumn.

It is the little things.

Anyway, the conference paper scoring is done based on an intricate four point scoring technique. First authors are asked to evaluate the overall paper. Then seven separate criteria are pulled for individual scoring on a seven-point scale. After that comes a comparative evaluation of this paper next to other papers the reviewer has been asked to read. Also, the reviewer is asked for if and how the paper should be accepted into the program.

Doing this several times over for each paper, takes some time. And then each score must be evaluated. Then the numbers and results are triple-checked. After that the surviving submissions must be placed in some cogent order in the program. And then the format of the program must meet specific guidelines. The programmer must also get halfway clever with titles and then ensure that the various specific details are accommodated.

All of these little details take a while, and I was intent on making sure the numbers worked and everything lined up just so, no matter which way you considered the material. This is my first time to do one of these. Now I know why everyone wishes the new guy luck, and inches away if he starts asking too many questions.

That’s not true. People at conferences are generally very helpful. This is a neat little volunteer job because you meet even more people. It is good for me professionally and I read maybe a dozen more papers being submitted to this conference than I would have without the role. So I’ve enjoyed it. Now I can send the finish product off and move on to other projects. If I counted up the time I’ve invested in this particular task it would be close to a week, so far. Time well spent.

So I didn’t even leave my office for much of anything else today. Did see this story though, where we learn BP oil spill money is being spent on correcting a problem not in any way caused by the BP oil spill:

For the first time in a generation, Sand Island Lighthouse lives up to its name.

As of Monday afternoon, the lighthouse once again has an island of sand surrounding its base.

On Tuesday, a trio of bulldozers pushed sand pumping out of a big metal dredge pipe into a hill that rose about 8 feet above the surrounding sea. A team of surveyors staked out the contours of the still growing island, which will continue to increase in size for the next several weeks.

For decades, the lighthouse was a small island unto itself, a forlorn brick pinnacle perched atop a heap of rocks and concrete. Dredging of the Mobile Ship Channel had sliced through the natural sand delivery system that runs along the Alabama coast and prevented new sand from washing onto Sand Island.

Over time, the island — once large enough for the lighthouse keeper to graze a herd of cows — shrank beneath the waves. But now, thanks to $6 million in federal funding awarded in the early days of the BP oil spill, the island is back where it belongs.

This is an erosion issue, and new knowledge of hydrodynamics is supposedly being utilized to help keep the sand from being moved around by the nature currents in that area. But, still, if this manmade island disappears in the next few years — this sort of thing happens on the coast — it would be wasted money.

And, also, this on the ongoing saga of the new Alabama immigration law:

The Secretary of the U.S. Department of Homeland Security told Congress Wednesday that her agency is not helping to implement Alabama’s immigration law.

In response to a question from U.S. Rep. Bobby Scott, D-Va., Secretary Janet Napolitano said the agency is instead working with the Justice Department in its legal challenge to the law.

As always on a divisive issue, the comments are especially insightful.

This evening I watched Captain America at the dollar theater. I was hoping for, as Claudia Puig wrote “A jaunty, retro style and stirring World War II story.” What I got was a polite mixture of Chris Barsanti’s “Little more than a dutiful origin story for a superhero” and a slight dash of Owen Gleiberman “Stolidly corny, old-fashioned pulp fun.”

But, then, I’m more interested here in the contemporary imagining of the 1940s — not enough took place in “New York” but rather in the woods of Austria, which doesn’t really say a lot more than “Trees!” I could care less about Hydra or the Red Skull character. The former has been done better in every incarnation and the latter should have been left in the comic books.

Let’s not even get into the “Look kids, steroids are OK if you’re heart is in the right place” subtext. I don’t care to read that deeply into this, though I’m sure some offended critic has. It doesn’t bother me, I’ve never been that impressionable, but it is in there.

So I’m left with those two bits at the end, the false finish and the post-credits tease. The best things these movies do is promote the next one — which is ingenious, mind you — meaning you’re paying to sit through the movie and wait for the next commercial. Why do we do that?

Also, I’m coming to the conclusion that Nick Fury is Han Solo. I don’t even know that character, as my comic book readings were limited, but I can see that the story without Fury is just OK. Everything seems to mean a little more when he’s in the shot.

Makes me worry about the Thor DVD waiting at home.

history / journalism / links / Samford / Tuesday — Comments Off
25
Oct 11

… You make Tuesdays

Breakfast this morning at Barbecue House and then to campus. Well, first I had to stop for plaques.

Next weekend is homecoming at Samford and one of the many festivities is our department’s Wall of Fame. Two individuals are being inducted this year, one an alumnus from the 1930s that I mentioned here last week and another gentleman who was a longtime public relations pro here in town. Part of the honor is a very handsome plaque (there are also speeches, bios, headshots and so on), which required the trip today to the awards and engraving store. It is helpfully named Awards and Engraving.

I’ve been in charge of this particular task for three years now. The guy is starting to recognize me. He also trusts me to leave with the efforts of his hard work without paying him. He seems convinced we won’t be packing up the university this weekend.

There is a tempting vacant Bruno’s parking lot nearby for any schools looking to move, though.

Samford has been here since the 1950s, though, I doubt the facilities people will uproot the joint after the game Saturday. Before that, Samford (or Howard College as it was then known) was in East Lake. Apparently that campus was never going to be suitable, something the university officials realized about 15 minutes after moving up from Marion. So, they spent 36 years in Marion in the 19th Century, 70 years in East Lake and 54 right here. The building holding my office has been around since the beginning.

I wonder what my office space was originally intended for.

“For now, we’re just going to hold chemicals and files up here. But in five or six decades, well. Everything will be different.”

So there was class. A few groans over the current events quiz and then the joys of discussing infographics. I showed off the work of Megan Jaegerman and an assorted collection from the always excellent infographics The New York Times puts out.

And then the bad. This PDF is so overdone as to be laughable, but it is a soap opera timeline, so maybe that was their point. Even still.

No paper tonight. The Crimson is publishing on Friday this week because of homecoming. So they’ll put that to bed on Thursday night. I’ll be hard at work on other projects between now and then.

journalism / links / Monday / movies / Samford / video — Comments Off
24
Oct 11

When life throws you Mondays …

Busy schoolwork day. I wrote three brief link posts on my blog for journalism students, one on the new faces of poverty another on the return of the police blotter and linked to an interview offering a little bit of social media advice for journalists. I’d like to think most people have gotten that figured out, but every once in a while someone does something that makes you wonder.

So those are the posts that I have been copying here from time to time. I can never make up my mind about how I want to present them. They’ll probably be reprinted here again next week, just out of habit.

One of the neater things I saw today. A six-year-old donates her birthday to help donate clean water to people in need. The founder of the non-profit recorded her a personal video:

The high touch is still a very valuable thing. Sending personalized notes like these at the right time to the right people makes for memorable content, and maybe some devoted followers.

The rest of my day was spent grading a few things and, mostly, preparing a big presentation on infographics for tomorrow’s class. There’s something like 40 pages of slides, a handout and the thing is still growing.

Oh, and there’s also a current events quiz for tomorrow’s class. MUHAHA.

Watched The Captains this evening. The preview:

Lileks‘ take on it:

The idea is simple and brilliant: he interviews everyone who played a captain on Star Trek. He’s a very good interviewer. The subjects are varied … In the end it’s about Bill, and life, and work, and what you lose, and death, and what you make in life. There’s even a big trip to a convention, and one scene that just about grinds your heart into a fine dry paste – which you can reanimate with your tears, if you please. Recommended.

This really became an excuse for Shatner to travel around and talk with people about himself while asking a few questions. At least that was the way it was edited. Maybe no one is as interesting as him. Scott Bakula and Patrick Stewart remain the most likable of the bunch, because they aren’t not crazy, bitter or overcome with ego. Chris Pine might be too cool for school, but he’s only in a fraction of the film, so it is difficult to tell. I call Kirk-level shenanigans.

Pardon me. My phone is ringing.

[…]

Step-father. He has dialed me by accident. I hear him speaking pointedly about … something. There’s someone else’s voice. And what sounds like some news-type talk show on in the background.

He is the only person that accidentally dials me. I think maybe my number is one of the hot buttons on his phone. It doesn’t happen often, but about once a year I’ll find myself comically yelling “HellllllOOOOOOOOOOO!”

This time I thought, What if he is flying? The recorders might not like my tinny voice in the background making jokes.

Why it has taken me that long to think that is a bit problematic. But I’ll distract myself with this question of morality: If someone unknowingly calls you, and you listen in, are you eavesdropping?

Because, you know, what if he were speaking pointedly about me?

He was not. When he realized his phone was on we had a little chat. Turns out he was talking about companies who are only out to get the consumer. Lots of folks can relate.