Who's Got Time To Read?

Got this from a posting on TVSpy -- a commentary on the "visual" generation of the short attention span, in the sense that reading seems to be on its way to becoming a relic of the past.
Be interested to hear what you have to say about this (if you found the time or had the inclination to read it..lol!)

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Nonreading Generation Of Writers Needs 12-Step Program
By Laura BermanThe Detroit News


The scene: A college classroom at the University of Michigan-Dearborn.
The subject: Writing the newspaper column.
The question: "Can any of you name a columnist you read -- in a newspaper or magazine or online -- on a regular basis?"
In response: Dead silence.
Slowly, one hand rises. A sports columnist is mentioned.
Nobody else in the room hints at any recognition of the sports columnist's name: Anyone?
"My generation is very visually oriented," explains Ryan Schreiber, a U-M Dearborn junior from Dearborn who -- like most in the class -- is majoring in journalism but doesn't read much of it.
"My generation grew up watching MTV. We are used to short spurts of words, lots of images...We're used to immediate gratification."
He points out that columns like this one are blocks of text, decorated only with a thumbnail photo and a headline.
No dancing images, no colorful pop-ups, no audio.
Words on paper. Blah.
The newspaper columnist likes immediate gratification, too. And imagining a future filled with non-reading writers doesn't provide such gratification. It is, in fact, a terrifying thought.
If the writers don't read, you wonder, how will they know how to write?
Good writers steep themselves in words; they don't ingest them in tiny bytes.
In another journalism class down the hall, the instructor annoyed his students. After asking how many read a newspaper regularly -- four or five out of 35 said they did -- he required them to bring a newspaper to class twice a week. "The students don't like it," says Laura Hipshire, one of the journalism students.
You might think that Schreiber -- who talks about his generation as if it's been impaired by too much exposure to flashy imagery -- is exaggerating. I envision a 12-Step Program for the Non-Reading Generation, as its members fight to recover from an addiction to color graphics and quick bursts of information.
But no one in this class -- or in others I've faced in recent months -- seems to disagree: Words on a page are, like, kind of hard to read when you have "a fast-paced lifestyle," as Schreiber put it. Or when you have "four kids and you're going to college," as Hipshire says.
And newspaper industry surveys show that readership is declining, the average reader is aging, and the future for plain old ink on paper might be measured in candle-power, not high wattage.
What's intriguing is that these kids say they plan to write for newspapers and magazines. They're planning journalism careers. They're dreaming of careers creating products nobody they know uses much.
But Schreiber's generation has seen enough movies and TV shows that depicted enough exciting newsroom scenes to make journalism seem enticing, even glamorous.
TV has a way of selling the wrapper -- the image, all glossed up. And so -- voila -- a career. But it includes, like, words on paper? That you have to read?
You're kidding me.

booze, lies and truth in journalism

Press Clipsby Cynthia CottsIn Hack HeavenBios of dead journos reveal tricks good muckrakers carried off: booze, lies, big truthsMay 3rd, 2004 10:10 AM
f you are depressed about the decline of journalism, and cannot get too excited about the Google founders who are soon to be billionaires, hark back to the old-timers whose trademarks were integrity and irreverence. It was OK for A.J. Liebling or Edward Murrow to be unapologetically liberal, to slug whiskey in the office, and to bend the truth in a résumé while breaking news about big lies. It was OK for pioneering columnist Mary McGrory to ask male colleagues to carry her bags on the campaign trail because, back then, a conscientious eccentric could succeed.
Lately, as a generation of old-school journalists is dying, details of their lifestyles are surfacing left and right. Recent accounts include Bob Edwards's book Edward R. Murrow and the Birth of Broadcast Journalism, David Remnick's tribute to A.J. Liebling in the March 29 issue of The New Yorker, and a spate of obituaries honoring McGrory, who died on April 21. April also brought the death of Philip Hamburger, a Liebling pal who had written for The New Yorker since 1939.
Ironically, the Murrow bio comes on the heels of the news that National Public Radio has pushed Bob Edwards out of his job as host of Morning Edition, six months short of his 25th anniversary. (NPR execs say the format had to be updated.) Though Edwards has accepted a gig as senior correspondent, one need only turn to his new book to find out what he really thinks about news companies that pander to the bottom line.
Edwards praises Murrow as a champion of the underdog who "could not be muscled, bullied, bought, corrupted, or intimidated," and recalls how the broadcaster spoke out publicly when CBS canceled his controversial news show, See It Now (1951-58). Then comes the damning conclusion: Murrow would never have succeeded in the current climate. Today, Edwards writes, media owners consider public service programming a "luxury" that is "bad for business," and expect news divisions to be profitable—a mandate he sees as inherently corrupting.
Ed Would Have Lost His Head
If Murrow had worked under today's conditions, he would have been appalled to learn that news programming is determined by market research. "The audience for news programs is an older audience," Edwards explains in his Afterword, "and one cannot imagine Murrow keeping his temper if lectured by the sales force to do more to reach the 18-to-35-year-old demographic so coveted by advertisers."
Oh, for the good old days, pre-deregulation and conglomeratization. Not only were media owners capable of benign neglect, but mentors on the editorial side encouraged talents like Liebling and McGrory to develop their writing skills and personalities. In retrospect, Liebling's epicurean lifestyle seems especially enviable.
According to Remnick, Liebling debuted by thumbing his nose at two venerable institutions, the Columbia School of Journalism and The New York Times. While enrolled at the J-school, Liebling studied French and translated erotica, according to Remnick, later dismissing the program as having "all the intellectual status of a training school for the future employees of the A&P." When hired to write basketball box scores for the Times sports desk, Liebling routinely identified the referee as "Ignoto," which means "unknown" in Italian. He claimed to have been fired for that, whereupon he went to Paris on his father's dime to study food.
By the early 1930s, Liebling was back in New York writing features for the World-Telegram, where it was S.O.P. to make up colorful details and pipe quotes, according to The New Yorker. Without defending fabrication, Remnick states that the rules were different then, noting, "What is now a hanging offense was then a risible misdemeanor." Liebling redeemed himself by becoming a prolific and erudite staff writer for The New Yorker and perhaps the most admired press critic of all time.
Meanwhile, in 1935, Murrow was busy lying to get a job at CBS, according to Edwards's book. Though Murrow had majored in speech at Washington State College, he told CBS that his major was political science and international relations and that he had a masters from Stanford. Even after becoming a famous broadcaster, he relied on a shot of whiskey to calm his nerves at airtime.
Again, what mattered was the work. Murrow had the right stuff, an "unrelenting search for truth" that led him to produce a critical documentary on Senator Joe McCarthy in 1954, knowing that it would put his own career at risk. But as with Liebling, Murrow's conscience was balanced by a strong sense of self-preservation.
When, as a young man, the time came to apply for a CBS insurance policy, Murrow finally told the truth about his age. His principles were put to the test again in 1954, after the McCarthy slam caught the attention of FBI director J. Edgar Hoover. The government threatened to revoke Murrow's passport unless he signed an affidavit stating that he was not, and had never been a Communist. Edwards writes that Murrow signed the affidavit for the sake of his career—but soon after bailed out a colleague who refused to do the same.
Mary Could Be a Tad Contrary
It's unclear whether Mary McGrory ever faced that kind of pressure as a columnist for The Washington Star and The Washington Post, but she was cut from the same cloth as Murrow. She was an engaging stylist and enterprising reporter who defended the little people and stuck it to the man. ("No great men call me," she said upon receiving an award in 1998. "You know who calls me? Losers. I am their mark.") She had contempt for McCarthy (whom she called an "Irish bully"), made Nixon's enemies list, and was an early opponent of the war on Iraq.
The best thing about McGrory, as with all the great journalists of her generation, is that she specialized in being herself and made decisions that would give her maximum freedom as a journalist. One suspects not having a husband or children didn't hurt, just as Bob Edwards's decision to stay on at NPR will probably extend his creative output in the long run. If only more journalists today knew how to place so much emphasis on producing quality work, and so little on going along with the tide.
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Depressed Today?? There's A Reason

I woke up this morning with a serious case of the blahs...but thanks to a friend, who forwarded this note from MSNBC, I now know I am not alone.

Read on ...if you are depressed this Monday morning, now you will know why!!

Jan. 24 called worst day of the year British psychologist calculates 'most depressing day'


By
Jennifer Carlile
Reporter
MSNBC
Updated: 1:51 a.m. ET Jan. 24, 2005

LONDON - Is the midwinter weather wearing you down?
Are you sinking in debt after the holidays?
Angry with yourself for already breaking your New Year's resolutions?
Wish you could crawl back under the covers and not have to face another day of rain, sleet, snow and paperwork?
Probably. After all, it's Jan. 24, the "most depressing day of the year," according to a U.K. psychologist.
Dr. Cliff Arnall's calculations show that misery peaks Monday.
Arnall, who specializes in seasonal disorders at the University of Cardiff, Wales, created a formula that takes into account numerous feelings to devise peoples' lowest point.
The model is: [W + (D-d)] x TQ M x NA
The equation is broken down into seven variables: (W) weather, (D) debt, (d) monthly salary, (T) time since Christmas, (Q) time since failed quit attempt, (M) low motivational levels and (NA) the need to take action.

'Reality starts to kick in'
Arnall found that, while days technically get longer after Dec. 21, cyclonic weather systems take hold in January, bringing low, dark clouds to Britain. Meanwhile, the majority of people break their healthy resolutions six to seven days into the new year, and even the hangers-on have fallen off the wagon, torn off the nicotine patches and eaten the fridge empty by the third week. Any residual dregs of holiday cheer and family fun have kicked the bucket by Jan. 24.
"Following the initial thrill of New Year's celebrations and changing over a new leaf, reality starts to sink in," Arnall said. "The realization coincides with the dark clouds rolling in and the obligation to pay off Christmas credit card bills."
The formula was devised to help a travel company "analyze when people book holidays and holiday trends," said Alex Kennedy, spokesperson for Porter Novelli, a London-based PR agency.
It seems that people are most likely to buy a ticket to paradise when they feel like hell.
"People feel bleak when they have nothing planned, but once they book a holiday they have a goal, they work toward having time off and a relaxing period," Kennedy said.
"When you imagine yourself on the beach it makes you feel positive. You will save money, go to the gym and come back to the optimism you had at the end of 2004," she said.

In U.K., up to a third get SAD
Research shows an escape to the sun can have real health benefits.
Up to a third of the population, in Britain at least, suffers from seasonal affective disorder, or SAD, also known as winter depression, according to MIND, a leading mental health charity in England and Wales. Furthermore, nine out of 10 people report sleeping and eating more during the darker months.
While most cases of the winter blues are not severe, 2 percent to 5 percent of those with SAD cannot function without continuous treatment.
However, it's extremely rare to find anyone with the disorder within 30 degrees of the equator, where days are long and the sky is bright year-round, according to MIND.
Although their findings appear to support a key factor in Arnall's research for Porter Novelli and its client, Sky Travel, the charity warned against overemphasizing the psychologist's claims.
"These types of formulae, if anything, probably serve to oversimplify the complexities of real-life experience," a spokesperson said on customary condition of anonymity.
Others in the medical field were less skeptical.
"I'm sure it's right," said Dr. Alan Cohen, spokesperson for the Royal College of General Practitioners, referring to Arnall's equation.
However, "it is postulated that there are a number of different causes of depression," he said.
"It may be something about one's personality, genes or external events. For those who suffer from external events, [Jan. 24] would be the most depressing day," Cohen said.
While travel companies hope to turn gloom into gold this date, for those unable to book a last-minute tropical getaway, Arnall might want to consider a formula for the "happiest day of the year."

International Very Good Looking, Damn Smart Woman's Day

Today is International Very Good Looking, Damn Smart Woman's Day, so please send this message to someone you think fits this description. Please do not send it back to me as I have already received it from a Very Good Looking, Damn Smart Woman! And remember this motto to live by: Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, wine in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming "WOO HOO what a ride!" Have a wonderful day!

The Mayonnaise Jar And Two Cups of Coffee

When things in your life seem almost too much to handle, when 24 hours
in a day are not enough, remember the mayonnaise jar and the 2 cups of coffee...

A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in
front of him. When the class began, wordlessly, he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls.
He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.

The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the
jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was
full. They agreed it was.

The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar.
Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the
jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous "yes."

The professor then produced two cups of coffee from under the table and
poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.
"Now," said the professor, as the laughter subsided, "I want you to
recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things-your God, family, your children, your health, your
friends, and your favorite passions -- things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.

The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house,
and your car. The sand is everything else -- the small stuff.

If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued, "there is no
room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you
spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have
room for the things that are important to you.

Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play
with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your
partner out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house and fix the disposal." Take care of the golf balls first -- the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand."

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the coffee represented. The professor smiled. "I'm glad you asked. It just goes
to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always
room for a couple of cups of coffee with a friend."

Please share this with someone you care about. I JUST DID.

Kids On Love

A group of professional people posed this question to a group of 4 to 8year-olds, "What does love mean?" The answers they got were broader anddeeper than anyone could have imagined...
"When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint hertoe nails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, evenwhen his hands got arthritis too. That's love." (Rebecca - age 8)When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. Youjust know that your name is safe in their mouth." (Billy - age 4)"Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologneand they go out and smell each other." (Karl - age 5)"Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your Frenchfries without making them give you any of theirs." (Chrissie - age 6)"Love is what makes you smile when you're tired." (Terri - age 4)"Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sipbefore giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK." (Danny - age 7)"Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing,you still want to be together and you talk more. My Mommy and Daddy arelike that. They look gross when they kiss" (Emily - age 8)"Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop openingpresents and listen" (Bobby - age 7)"If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friendwho you hate," (Nikka - age 6)"Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, and then he wears iteveryday." (Noelle - age 7)"Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are stillfriends even after they know each other so well." (Tommy - age 6)"During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked atall the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He wasthe only one doing that. I wasn't scared anymore." (Cindy - age 8)"My mommy loves me more than anybody. You don't see anyone else kissingme to sleep at night." (Clare - age 6)"Love is when Mommy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken. (Elaine-age5)"Love is when Mommy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he ishandsomer than Robert Redford." (Chris - age 7)"Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him aloneall day." (Mary Ann - age 4)"I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her oldclothes and has to go out and buy new ones." (Lauren - age 4)"When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little starscome out of you." (Karen - age 7)"You really shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if youmean it, you should say it a lot. People forget." (Jessica - age 8)And the final one to melt anybody's heart: Author and lecturer LeoBuscaglia once talked about a contest he was asked to judge. Thepurpose of the contest was to find the most caring child.The winner was a four year old child whose next door neighbor was anelderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife. Upon seeing the mancry, the little boy went into the old gentleman's yard, climbed onto hislap, and just sat there. When his Mother asked him what he had said tothe neighbor, the little boy said, "Nothing, I just helped him cry."

Senior Moment

An elderly lady did her shopping and, upon returning to her car, found four males in the act of leaving with her vehicle.

She dropped her shopping bag and drew her handgun,proceeding to scream at the top of her voice, 'I have a gun, and I know how to use it! Get out of the car!"

The four men didn't wait for a second invitation. They got out and ran like mad. The lady, somewhat shaken, then proceeded to load her shopping bags into the back of the car and got into the driver's seat.

She was so shaken that she could not get her key into the ignition. She tried and tried, and then it dawned on her why.

A few minutes later, she found her own car parked four or five spaces farther down. She loaded her bags into the car and drove to the police station.

The sergeant to whom she told the story couldn't stop laughing. He pointed to the other end of the counter, where four pale men were reporting a car jacking by a mad, elderly woman described as white, less than five feet tall, glasses, curly white hair, and carrying a large handgun.

No charges were filed. If you're going to have a SENIOR MOMENT, make it a memorable one!"

Hello to all!

Hello to all!

Day one of my blog. I have finally joined the rest of you. Nothing much to add right now, except to let you know I'm here!!

Ronnie Lovler