But that's not what I meant to write

I have no idea how big a deal this is, but the New York City election committee withdrew its latest mayoral vote counts, saying they had mistakenly included 135,000 "practice" ballots produced when they were testing their new ranked voting system.

The fact that virtually no one in NYC is surprised by this is, well, surprising. But the election committee is infamous for fouling things up, for nepotism, and for generally doing dumb stuff.

This foul up has nothing to do with me, though the timing is a bit unfortunate with our election system under constant attack. Most of those attacks have proven to be pointless but those who already doubt democracy and lack trust in our institutions must find this sort of story both important and confirming.

We live in a complex society and local control of elections means there are literally thousands of chances for the system to break down each year. 

I was reminded why I emphasize ethos, or credibility, with my writing students. Readers are always ready to stop reading and many bring a healthy skepticism to the act of reading anything "official" (or unofficial, for that matter). 

I can't tell you how many times I have found a typo or grammar error or missing word in the very first sentence of an essay. This might indicate a basic lack of skill in getting thoughts onto the page using Mainstream U.S. English (MUSE). If that is the case, that writer needs a second set of eyes to help catch those distracting errors. As I often say, "Everyone needs an editor."

More likely, though, is that the writers were typing much slower than they were thinking. We think the equivalent of 400 words per minute but most of us type at 20-30 words per minute. That difference explains how we often look at something on the screen and think, "But I know I meant to type..." The poor choice that at least some students make is to NOT go back and reread what they thought they typed. Sometimes I will see that a clear spelling error is actually flagged by Word, but some students don't seem to see what I see.

What does it mean when a student can't be bothered to go back and read a short essay or post just once more before hitting "submit"? And what does it mean that a student can't be bothered to even right click on a flagged word, revealing better choices for spelling, etc.?

No one sets out to completely screw things up, not even in New York, and certainly not when enrolled in a college writing class. But choosing to cut corners or not bring in a proofreader or not follow the entire checklist, for a process like elections... that shows a lack of caring and attention to detail.

And once we lose our credibility with the audience or public, it's very difficult to change that perception.

Vengeance is a tricky goal, and not good for us

I read a conversation in the Times this morning that neatly summed up my frustrations with many of my fellow Americans. The gist of it was a basic wish that society would make it a bit harder for people who make willfully "dumb" or harmful decisions. 

It might seem like piling on, but if an adult makes the decision to not get a vaccine, with no religious or health objections, should Medicare pay for treatment? If a person smokes for many decades and refuses to stop, should society pay for cancer treatment? If a motorcyclist chooses to not wear a helmet and crashes into a pole, should we all share in the expenses treating brain injury?

The reptilian part of my brain whispers "no" in reply to these hypotheticals. Who wouldn't like to see poor decisions repaid with some sort of punishment or pain? 

But then I think about the many, many bad decisions I have made in my life that I managed to survive, mostly scot free. 

And I think about a sister-in-law who refused to be vaccinated, got Covid, had to be hospitalized for nearly a week, and who has asthma. I assume she will now proudly tell everyone that it wasn't all that bad and that she now is immune to the virus. She isn't, of course, and if you have to be put on oxygen you can hardly argue that surviving the disease was a piece of cake.

Medicare covered all her expenses, of course, other than a minimal co-pay, though she is also a proud believer in making her own way and being a proud, independent Texan. She will not send anyone a portion of the social security she receives, nor will she stop arguing that immigrants are the main source of trouble in the country.

As I have mentioned before in this blog, hypocrisy is so rampant that it has become irrelevant.

We will continue to take care of those who make dumb decisions. That's what a society does. We may try to nudge people to make fewer dumb decisions, but that's about as far as we can go. 

I look forward to some future where a mechanism that pretty much mandates vaccines is created, with a carrot and stick tactic that even my sister-in-law can't deny.

Be curious but don't expect clear answers today

Humans have a tough time with cause and effect, perhaps because our frame of reference tends to be too small to see true patterns.

It may reach 113 degrees in Portland today, for instance, and evidently some storms in the Pacific affected the jet stream which, in turn, allowed a "heat dome" to form over the Pacific Northwest. Is this related to climate change or is it simply one of those vagaries of the weather that occur from time to time?

No one really knows.

Part of a building collapsed in south Florida and over a hundred are missing. If I had to guess, they were pulverized under the tons of concrete and steel, but a frantic search continues.

Engineers are already speculating about what caused this disaster, though it's way too early for anything definitive. There is good reason to find the cause ASAP since there may be more buildings at risk of a similar collapse. We rational humans demand the cause (and the implied "fix" that would follow), and we want it right now.

But a clear description of what happened and why is unlikely for some time. And by then we will have moved on.

The rate of Covid infection right now is much higher in counties that voted for Trump in 2020 compared to counties that went for Biden. The rate was not much different between counties just a few months ago. No one is sure why, though everyone has a theory.

It seems probable that being fully vaccinated is the only sure-fire way to insure against serious illness and death, but it's a big country and big world, and only time will allow enough statistics to be gathered to distinguish between causation and correlation. 

We live in a country that has come to accept a level of violence and death from guns that appalls the rest of the world. I'm quite certain that Covid can easily be folded into our national mythology about freedom, liberty, and choice. 

People die every day. Lots of them. The causes are many. In the widest possible view, the precise reason for each death is a stray detail. But that macro view results in seeing that life expectancy for Americans decreased by two years over the pandemic.

Will that result in more people taking social security earlier, since you need to live to at least 75 for delaying payments to benefit them? No one knows, of course. Ask in 20 years, however, and we might have some answers.

A week ago, highs around here were in triple digits. The past few days the high temperature has barely reached 70. Who would be surprised to see Denver back in the high 90s in just a few days?

I see that Amazon accounts for only 6 percent of all American retail sales, yet Amazon is all we talk about. Maybe that 6 percent is just a glimpse of a future that basically wipes our local retail, or maybe it's just a blip. 

It would be helpful to know, wouldn't it? 

Check back on this in, say, ten years. I will explain it all then.

The fog of war entangles Arvada

A completely unsurprising tragedy occurred not far from here a couple days ago, when an Arvada police officer shot and killed a man described as a Samaritan who had, just before, shot and killed a man who had ambushed and murdered another Arvada police officer.

Sound confusing? Yeah. So confusing that officials still haven't been able to share all the details with the media and the public. When it takes days and days to get the facts on a shooting in broad daylight, we are smart to suspect that something went horribly wrong in the response.

According to eyewitnesses, a man with a concealed weapon saw a uniformed offer shot and immediately went into action. Everything after that is blurry, thus far, but the original shooter (who we know hated the police and seemed to ambush the officer) is dead. So is the guy who leaped into action. And one other Arvada officer is on administrative leave.

Is it at all surprising that an officer arriving in the midst of the action might mistake a civilian firing a gun at another civilian as a potential threat? It's not like everyone is wearing a sign that identifies their role. So, no, I am not immediately being critical of the police or anyone, really.

But the myth for many gun lovers is that if we only ALL were armed, we would all be safer. The actuality is that if everyone were armed, everyone is a potential shooter, and a possible target.

Good guys with guns can and will kill good guys with guns. They might also kill bad guys. And both might happen, as seems to be the Arvada story.

The lesson might be that whether you are carrying a weapon or not, you might want to think twice about being a Samaritan and firing at a bad guy. You might be mistaken for a bad guy. Oh, and you MIGHT have misread the situation and be shooting at another good guy.

Oh, hell. Just fire away and we can sort out the details later.

After all: freedom.

'When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie...'

A couple day ago the New York Times published a fun science story that featured the sort of headline that illustrates how important it is for readers to have a wide enough background to "get the jokes."

Here is the headline, and the explanatory deck: 

When an Eel Climbs a Ramp to Eat Squid From a Clamp, That’s a Moray
Moray eels can hunt on land, and footage from a recent study highlights how they accomplish this feat with a sneaky second set of jaws.

Just in case that headline did not jog your memory, it is a play on "That's Amore," a hit song by Dean Martin that was popular in my youth. You can check it out on YouTube.

In the era of Search Engine Optimization (SEO) and the emphasis on online posts coming up at the top of any Google search, this sort of headline is increasingly rare. But what fun to happen upon one, and to be able to "sing" the headline as it was intended.

Of course, the "deck" or subhead helps readers who can't quite conjure up that old song, but the headline illustrates two rhetorical devices writers might consider. I admire that deck, BTW, which neatly sums up the key details of what the article itself will explain. But it's the headline that sticks with me.

First, "a moray" is a homophone to "amore," and that anchors the joke. Second, the headline depends on an allusion to something unrelated to the topic covered. 

If a reader has never heard of that song (and that would likely be a large percentage of America), the allusion just lies there, more puzzling than amusing or enlightening.

Some writers argue that including such allusions limits readership, and perhaps the Times being willing to go with this fanciful headline is just a recognition of the average age of the American newspaper reader (which is, not surprisingly, my age or a bit younger, not to mention white and middle to upper class in economics).

It's the sort of "inside joke" that many readers appreciate, sort of a secret sign to enter the clubhouse.

Other writers might argue that the substantial chance that many readers will NOT get the allusion is the first step in urging people to do some research and expand their references.

And some writers (and editors) might simply prefer to avoid such challenging language choices. Why not appeal to the broadest possible readership? 

Is this sort of allusion a form of elitism? I would say no, mostly because Dean Martin could hardly be classified as part of elite culture. I know there is some limit to this sort of wordplay in the media -- overuse could turn off readers as easily as inspire or amuse them.

But I would be fine with a bit "amore" of this sort of writing.

It was so close to perfect

There is a saying in politics (and in life?): "Don't let the perfect be the enemy of the good." This saying can be traced back to Voltaire, but it goes back much further, to Greek philosophers and Aristotle and the Golden Mean. If there is one thing that sums up public life today, it is that few people in power seem to care about finding that golden mean, that balance that satisfies.

A couple recent news stories reminded me of how that saying works and how many times zealots can muddy the waters.

The first of those stories is about how some critics/thinkers have complained about "In the Heights" not being quite as diverse, in terms of skin tone, as it might have been. In reality, lots of Dominicans are Afro-Latino and tend to have darker skin shades. For whatever reason, they were not very visible in the musical. Predictably, Lin Manuel Miranda, the composer and former star of the show on Broadway, issued an apology and promised to do better in the future.

So here's what we have with the movie version: a major motion picture features nothing but "actors of color," and the complaint somehow arises that that just was not enough. If I were Miranda the saying "no good deed goes unpunished" would come to mind. 

I'm not arguing that well-meaning people back off from pushing for more equality, more representation, more progress. Society will always need people who stir the pot, so to speak, and who keep us all from becoming complacent.

I am simply arguing that "In the Heights," and then "Hamilton," are carrying a lot of weight and attracting a wide audience, most of which is white and not Latino.

The first reaction need not always be "but there could be even more done to..."

The second story is one I mentioned earlier this week, about the Catholic bishops and their potential withholding of the Eucharist from politicians like the president who are not following each and every position of the Church.

You might think that having only our second Roman Catholic president, plus six members of the Supreme Court and a large number of legislators, might encourage Catholic leaders to celebrate a bit, and think about how their particular brand of religion has produced political power far beyond raw numbers of parishioners. I know it's not a race to be won and that religion should be non-political, but being Catholic does not seem to be a barrier to political success, and it definitely WAS a barrier in the not-so-distant past.

This seems to be another case of wanting the perfect from a Catholic president, rather than leveraging all the beliefs and goals that Mr. Biden shares with the bishops (from caring for the poor to social justice to compassion for the immigrant and so much more). As we often say in times of strife: "There is more that binds us than separates us."

Forget the hypocrisy of bishops previously ducking any moral and ethic problems from the president recently voted out. Hypocrisy just comes with the territory when you become a religion or political leader, at least in some ways. The world is complex and vast and there are always exceptions. I have long given up on wiping out hypocrisy.

I just wish we could all celebrate just a bit longer when the world takes a forward step before we resume arguing over details.

Backing into the truth

I like pet peeves, those little annoyances in life that bug us but don't completely ruin our lives. I consider them as quite similar to "predicaments," which are problems we have in life that are not going to ever be "solved," but rather need to be endured.

One such predicament, around here, is variable weather. In fact, if there is one challenge that binds mankind together it might be the weather. We all talk about it, speculate about it, keep track of it ("today's high was so close to breaking a record..."), and worry about it. But for all our yakking about it, we have almost no power over it.

Sometimes we find ourselves thinking about something we encounter all the time, but aren't quite sure if we should classify that phenomenon as a predicament or a problem. I saw a blog post just the other day where some guy experimented with backing into parking spots for a solid month, just to see if there was some clear advantage in doing so.

I read the entire post, though I had no idea who the writer was or what his background as a driver was. The post spoke to my long-time annoyance about people who slow down traffic, get to close to neighboring cars, and waste time in several maneuvers to get their vehicle centered in an often narrow space.

The blogger said that his conversations with fellow workers who insisted on backing in to their space amounted to "At the end of the day, I just can't wait to get out of here."

The blogger cited all sorts of statistics that proved that backing into a space did not reduce accidents, and really didn't do much to reduce the time needed to exit. But facts have little to do with many human activities.

Of course, that little "life triumph" required a much larger expenditure of time each morning, as backing up is never as easy as going forward. The blogger also wondered whether going to all that effort was worth it, or whether people should find jobs that they don't hate as much.

My latest encounter with a backed up vehicle came last Sunday, when I was leaving a church function and found a giant pickup backed up right next to me, so close that my wife could barely squeeze in the passenger door. 

I wondered just how much the driver disliked church, to work so hard for a quick getaway.

Power corrupts, even among the "holy"

Reactionaries and "true believers" are actually not as numerous as we might figure, based on social media, round-the-clock cable TV, and unceasing attention from mainstream media. I remain somewhat puzzled that culture wars and a longing for a "good old days" that never existed continue to hold such sway.

My latest stab at explaining this faux conservative power is that leaders are to blame more than the masses. I would guess that most American Catholics, for instance, could care less who receives Communion or what the state of the president's faith is. But a majority of American bishops have decided to side with a political point of view that sometimes aligns with their priorities.

The hypocrisy of the Catholic church is unbounded, but so is the hypocrisy of politicians and of Southern Baptists or any number of other Protestant churches. 

As always, everything grows from self-interest. Those reactionary bishops who have decided to risk splitting an entire church over whether Joe Biden is "devout enough," might have chosen to throw their considerable power behind efforts to feed the hungry, stand up for the oppressed, etc. Instead, they have chosen one of the more bizarre tenets of the church to declare "no more." 

Rank and file Catholics often DO choose to organize to help the less fortunate. In fact, some small percentage of many religions really act in ways that are not all about self-interest, and they should be applauded. But the bishops have planted their flag on the hill of one mystical issue. I'm no theologian, but it's difficult to imagine too many Catholics who honestly believe they are consuming the body and blood of Jesus Christ each week. Isn't it enough to acknowledge the symbolism and leave it at that?

The latest poll in Colorado confirms what we already suspected: Republicans are far less likely to either have been vaccinated or intend to be soon. This, despite their false idol Trump having eagerly received the vaccine back in January. 

So what do Republican politics and the Roman Catholic Church share, beyond an increasing number of voters? Both are bastions of white male dominance -- with the church explicitly keeping women out of power, and the R's not quite as blatant. 

Just more evidence, to me, of why I distrust the rich and powerful. And, if I were still a practicing Catholic, I would be boycotting Communion until the bishops get over their political power games.

Freedom's just another word...

Absolute freedom is a bit like absolute power: it is both dangerous and impossible in the long run.

I was thinking of this as I read about several professional athletes, some currently in the playoffs, who may not be able to play for x games due to testing positive for Covid. Even a few pampered professional athletes are whining about their freedom to NOT get a vaccine. Others say that they won't reveal their vaccination status. It's too intimate a fact, I guess, for performers to reveal.

"It's a personal decision," they say. Well, sort of. But what about their teammates, who did get vaccinated, who may see their championship dreams destroyed by one of those personal decisions?

"No man is an island," as John Donne reminded us centuries ago, but too many times we forget that truth, as a society and as individuals.

I was also thinking that just because you are a professional athlete, your excellence at an activity or sport may not translate to wisdom or even basic intelligence.

One pro golfer loudly and ignorantly shared this nugget (paraphrased): "I haven't had Covid yet, and until I do I see no reason to get vaccinated. After I get it, I may consider it." 

Huh?

In today's Denver Post I found a story about the state patrol issuing over 2,300 seatbelt tickets over the past couple weeks, part of a state-wide crackdown. Fines begin at $65 for failing to wear a seatbelt or have everyone under 18 belted. 

I suppose choosing to not wear a seatbelt could be seen as an act of righteous rebellion against the tyranny of the state, but the fact that you can reduce your risk of death or serious injury by half, plus the support of clear legislation (just always wear hour seatbelt, for God's sake), means 86 percent of Coloradans routinely give up this tiny bit of "freedom," mostly without a thought.

We could get wacky and argue about the tyranny of the red light forcing me to stop my vehicle when I REALLY want to keep going, but no one seriously is interested in that argument. Traffic lights, and the need to observe and follow them, are important in maintaining a functional transportation system.

If I ran the world of professional sports, I would present getting vaccinated as the equivalent of stopping for a red light. 

Most people don't "hesitate" to start going when the light turns green. In fact, hesitating for even a couple seconds likely brings a chorus of honking from those behind us. 

We should be honking at those vaccine hesitators who, honestly, are not acting rationally. No need to try to logically argue with people. Just honk.

Just another painful lesson for a powerless kid

The latest of our annual news stories detailing errors and cruelties in yearbooks involves a Utah student with Down Syndrome who was intentionally left out of the school's book.

It's difficult to imagine this level of casual cruelty, but the large group of cheerleaders were posed twice, once WITH the young woman, who was the squad's manager and who knows all their routines by heart, and once without.

Guess which one ended up in the book.

There are adults involved in producing any yearbook, at least an adviser and often some administrator (though that is rarely a good idea). Kids can certainly be quite nasty to one another, and you never know whether something slipped by any supervision, even by editors. But this snub is the second time in three years that this particular student was "accidentally" not included in the yearbook. Fool me once...

It is ironic that the school is now thoroughly embarrassed and looks to be anything but a welcoming place but also curiously inattentive to supporting the sort of leadership involved in creating a yearbook.

There is no better defense against poor decisions than an educated adviser who works closely with student editors to insure complete coverage, adherence to journalistic standards, and considered judgments about how the history of the year should be produced.

But I am willing to bet that Shoreline Junior High has an untrained educator (or parent) in charge of the book. In fact, yearbook advisers are often pulled from the "last hired" group of teachers in a school. "This year you will have four preps, and you will have yearbook as an after-school club. Welcome to the team." 

I mean, anyone can do that job, can't they? Schools, like most businesses, make choices about where to invest time and money, and yearbook advising is rarely near the top of the priorities.

And then the book is delivered and the recriminations begin. For the school, the humiliation and guilt will soon fade. After all, books are often distributed at the very end of the school year and the separation of students and parents and faculty from the school campus allows everyone to conveniently "forget" the entire incident.

The pain for this young woman and her family won't just disappear, though she seems to have a more sophisticated view on how to turn the other cheek than the adults "in charge." 

But honestly, who cares about one girl who is not like everyone else? Want to bet that the school will invest some money and time in either hiring a yearbook adviser who actually WANTS the job or sending the adviser to a workshop to learn the skills and philosophies needed?

I didn't think you would. 

We all know, deep down, that many schools and their leaders just don't care. We all lived through such experiences, though we naively assume that things inevitably get better.

Not at Shoreline Junior High. 

Don't be evil

This week has provided a prime illustration of the importance of investigative journalism in "afflicting the comfortable."

A team from the New York Times has published a series of reports on the realities of Amazon, working for Amazon, how its strategies were developed, and more, and this would be a week where the PR and HR departments for that mammoth company will be earning their money.

The most ruthless finding, so to speak, is that Amazon founder Jeff Bezos has always operated on a negative assumption about most employees: the longer they work there the less motivated they will be and the more expensive the cost of labor will become. So rapid turnover is a positive thing for Amazon.

This sounds like a system where there is an unlimited pool of eager job seekers, and combining this constant churn of workers with increasing automation, makes for a great CUSTOMER experience while the employee experiences are not very good at all.

Some Amazon executives are wondering if this strategy might not eventually take the company to the point where the pool of potential employees is exhausted, which makes the practices seem both cruel and short-sighted.

The government likely has no problems with Amazon's practices, though the revelations late last week from Propublica that the richest Americans pay far less in income taxes than pool schmucks like you and me is drawing some attention from legislators.

But the press, or at least sections of the press, despite being blasted by all sorts of financial and trust challenges, continues to devote resources to digging into large entities as well as local, state, and national government, and revealing abuses to our systems and to our basic sense of fairness and decency.

The press can't "fix" the problems, of course, but merely making lots of people aware is a necessary first step in moving forward.

Consumers can make different choices than mindlessly accumulating more stuff, even if Prime Day is less than a week away. 

Even the threat of some percentage of customers choosing to NOT take advantage of some deals that are partially financed by exploitation of workers might produce some changes at Amazon. Imagine millions of Americans opting out of Prime memberships. 

Bezos and other executives will be fine with slightly less profit but slightly more good will among customers, don't you think?

It's more fun to play the villain

Entertainment reviews are great resources when looking for persuasive writing samples. 

The point of a review is to provide an informed opinion that might help a reader decide whether to invest money, time, and effort into a particular form of entertainment, like a movie or TV series or museum exhibit.

Something I have observed for years is that it is easier (and more fun, in a gleefully cruel way) to write a negative review. This is something we could observe in the hallways of any school. Imagine a crowd of people gathered around your locker as you sang the praises of "Mary," who is simply an exemplary human being. Imagine how quickly the crowd would disperse once they realize that no "dirt" is being shared.

On the other hand, if you want that crowd to hang around, try sharing rumors and innuendo. In fact, the more famous and accomplished the student, the more we tend to enjoy the "fall." It's as American as apple pie.

Here is the first graf of a review from today's Washington Post that illustrates this truth:

It would be hard to imagine an R-rated action comedy more tedious and unengaging than “The Hitman’s Wife’s Bodyguard” — despite all the car chases and would-be wisecracks — were it not for the existence of “The Hitman’s Bodyguard,” the 2017 sleep aid to which this sequel is a worthy successor. Once again starring, in titular order, Ryan Reynolds as executive protection agent Michael Bryce, Salma Hayek as con artist Sonia Kincaid and Samuel L. Jackson as her assassin husband, Darius, the film throws this trio into a scenario much more complicated than is worth caring about.

Readers immediately sense that the reviewer is not a fan, and that the reviewer has a sly and stinging voice... one that may provide even more fun as the piece continues.

I also appreciated the immediate connection to a prequel to this film, evidently equally horrible. This can help readers who happened to see that earlier film while warning away some readers who might want to add this to their Netflix list.

There is nothing very fair in that first paragraph, though there is an attempt to include some mention of action and (lame) comedy. But that's OK. A review is not designed to present an objective, balanced report. It is designed to give the writer a chance to build an argument, based on personal research and drawing on a long list of other films or programs or shows or products.

One more point in favor of negative reviews: think of how difficult is is to explain exactly why you love x movie or song so much. The more you are enchanted by something, the less logical your explanation as to why.

It's like trying to clearly and concisely answer the classic: "Why do you love me?" that has stumped humans for millennia. 

If you have a choice, rip something.

When we love people who reject the only solution to the plague

The latest news in Covid is that a variation called "Delta" is quite active and causes worse symptoms. It may delay the full reopening of Great Britain, for instance, and some are predicting another spike of Covid this fall.

I have already established that I am not a huge fan of such speculative reporting, though I can certainly appreciate an accurate warning.

But no matter how accurate predictions of doom or paradise may be, the key fact to hold onto is that those who are vaccinated at protected against all variations of the virus that have so far surfaced.

Still, millions of Americans are "just not sure" about the vaccines. I myself have seven siblings, and only five of the eight total have been vaccinated, which must come fairly close to the national percentages overall.

Each sibling has a different argument against the vaccinations, with two of them claiming they have had a mild case of the virus and so feel quite safe. The science argues against this as a long-term solution to the pandemic, and perhaps they will be persuaded by future events and trends. They are not anti-vaxxers, per se, unlike one sibling.

One thing that is clear to me is that logical argument is not effective in changing anyone's mind about the pandemic, vaccines, accurate counting of the last presidential election, or even our personal magnetic fields (if you have followed that latest wacko thesis).

As always, peer pressure and personal experience are much more compelling, and those cannot be rushed.

What CAN be rushed are four-week college courses that are normally 16 weeks in length. My CSU writing class wrapped up last night, with just a few days of grading final reports for me to deal with.

Perhaps I will report on how it all went, once I have sorted through the projects. 

News flash: old guy cares less about the future than he used to

There is an old saying in journalism that "all news is local." I have always thought that meant that no matter the news, journalists had a duty to find local angles, to show readers why they should care about events happening across the world, and to demonstrate connections.

Of course, without some sort of conflict, there isn't much news, so differences and disputes dominate most reporting. After all, if everything is going well, there's not much urgency in reports such as "Local leaders make logical decisions that seem to satisfy all constituents." Or perhaps those applauded decisions don't exist.

It may be due to the voracious appetite for more content that the Internet demands, but I have noticed a growing number of "this MIGHT happen" stories, as opposed to stories that focus on what IS happening.

Think of all the reporting that speculates about the future, bolstered most of the time by "experts" and statistics, whether is is dire warning about not only our pandemic but the possibilities of future pandemics. 

Just scan any news website and you will see these sorts of stories. A quick scan of the Washington Post website today revealed these headlines (with links to the reporting):

Computer chip shortage threatens thousands of restaurant service jobs

Drop in childhood vaccinations during pandemic may raise risk of other outbreaks when schools reopen, CDC says

State abortion policies have gotten more extreme — without Roe v. Wade, the divide could widen

Why inflation is rising and whether you should worry

I am not saying that the topics are out-of-line or without interest, and I am in favor of journalism that prepares readers for something to come, thus helping them live better lives.

But look at those verbs: "threatens," "may raise," "could widen," and an important conjunction: "whether."

These stories are fundamentally trying to establish cause and effect, though they are distantly related to conspiracy theories. The headlines are designed to tap into reader fears and provoke some sort of outrage or satisfaction or pain or angst. OMG! Restaurants are in trouble! Kids will be sick in droves this fall! Abortion rights are in danger! Inflation is coming! RUN!!!!

I have taken to skipping all those stories and concentrating on what actually is happening. I like sports journalism, for instance, since it focuses mostly on the latest game or injury or new player. 

But even sports journalism can't resist speculating about whether the Rockies will lose 100 games this summer. Whether our woeful home team loses 90 or 100 or 110... really, what's the difference? They will not be playing for any sort of championship, but I would still enjoy a warm evening at Coors Field, watching grown men who are extraordinary athletes play a game I played when I was a kid.

And maybe worrying about the final record of the team, determined in about 100 games, just doesn't matter much.

One year ago, I was certain that the plague would last for years. Two years ago, I was fairly certain that Trump would still be president. 

Here's some news: predications rarely turn out to be correct. But you can waste a lot of time on speculations.

Memories are a mixed bag

On this date (June 10) in 1974, my father had a serious heart attack. He was 45. He survived and lived another 24 years... still dying far too young.

I don't have many clear memories of that day or even the days that followed. I dimly remember visiting him in the hospital but have no memory of any particular conversations, with him or with my mother or siblings, on that day or immediately after. Funny how even a traumatic event like that may not stick in the memory very well.

I have a clearer memory of driving off Grand Forks Air Force base in my VW about one month earlier, discharged from the service after nearly three years and following my wife and one-year-old who had been driven back earlier to Iowa by Kathleen's mom and dad.

The scene that sticks with me: snowflakes floated all around me as I exited the main gate, heading for the interstate and making a right turn south. That light snow was a nice bookend to my less than seven month sojourn in North Dakota, as there was now in the air the day I drove onto the base early in November of 1973. I never had to wonder again about why so few people lived in North Dakota, with the long, dark and dangerous winter giving way quickly to blistering, humid, mosquito-filled summers. 

Putting the Air Force (and Grand Forks) behind me was a happy occasion. I had survived the Vietnam War and had 36 months of GI Bill in my pocket, so to speak. 

The best stories often involve pain and loss and challenges, but the memories I now can latch onto are mostly happy. Humans have the ability to block out those bad memories, and I suppose that provides us with just enough confidence and hope to carry on.

Some humans also have the ability to block out the pain and fear and simply get on with it. That was my mother, who at the time of the heart attack had seven of her eight children at home, ages 7-22. It couldn't have been easy for her as dad had a long convalescence. 

My siblings often say that this heart attack marked the end of a chapter in dad's life, and I couldn't agree more. Most of my memories are of a young and vigorous man who played all sorts of sports with me and Mike, my brother two years junior. Dad wasn't even 30 when he first coached me in Little League. 

Then he was 45.

Then he was gone. 

His life was not as brief as the main character in Housman's poem, and he was not snuffed out by war, but I often taught "To An Athlete Dying Young" and discretely thought about how quickly it all passes. My practice was to pair this with Springsteen's "Glory Days."

To an Athlete Dying Young

by A.E. Housman

The time you won your town the race
We chaired you through the market-place;
Man and boy stood cheering by,
And home we brought you shoulder-high.

Today, the road all runners come,
Shoulder-high we bring you home,
And set you at your threshold down,
Townsman of a stiller town.

Smart lad, to slip betimes away
From fields where glory does not stay,
And early though the laurel grows
It withers quicker than the rose.

Eyes the shady night has shut
Cannot see the record cut,
And silence sounds no worse than cheers
After earth has stopped the ears.

Now you will not swell the rout
Of lads that wore their honours out,
Runners whom renown outran
And the name died before the man.

So set, before its echoes fade,
The fleet foot on the sill of shade,
And hold to the low lintel up
The still-defended challenge-cup.

And round that early-laurelled head
Will flock to gaze the strengthless dead,
And find unwithered on its curls
The garland briefer than a girl’s.

'Normal" is in the eye of the beholder

"Normal" is a vague term for how life is going, but yesterday highlighted, for me, a nearly complete return to what I would have thought of as routine before the plague.

AMC offers seniors discounted rates for movies on Tuesdays, so Kathleen and I routinely would get tickets for a late afternoon show, followed by dinner somewhere nearby. We had not done that since February of 2020, but gave it a shot yesterday. It was uneventful, which was great.

We saw "Dream Horse," which is based on a true story about some down-on-their-luck folks from a small village in Wales who manage to put together a small syndicate and sponsor a young thoroughbred. It came highly recommended, not by traditional media but by several friends on social media (whom I trust). I had no idea it was so contemporary, covering events that occurred in the past decade. 

The story has the classic "hero's journey" structure:

• Begin with the main characters feeling unsatisfied and in distress.
• Give us one galvanizing character who brings those characters together for a quest (to experience the hope and thrill of raising a horse that MIGHT eventually race).
• The group begins in some chaos but eventually comes together.
• Early successes are interrupted by a near-tragic injury to the horse that threatens everything.
• The group's faith leads to the horse (Dream Alliance) returning to the track (stem cells are involved).
• The horse wins the Welsh National and the syndicate share in the glory (and the money).

This might be termed to "from darkness to light" plot, and it made for a fine afternoon at the movies.

Then we were off to Rock Bottom for a sandwich and beer (no masks were spotted anywhere), followed by a Dairy Queen stop for a Blizzard. The DQ employees wore masks. No customers did so while we were there.

We watched three consecutive "Portlandia" episodes, as we are trying to outrace the series leaving Netflix tonight. We won't quite finish all eight seasons, but it's nice to have a quest -- though it hardly amounts to something heroic.

And THAT is what I mean by a normal Tuesday.

When your writing lends itself to a narrative

Today's look at "starting strong" is from a New York Times story that covers a venerable bookstore re-opening, with a clear connection to "Hamilton" the musical. You can read the entire piece here.

But here is the lead:

A sculptural representation of a bookworm — 140 feet of scripts and songbooks, twisted along a steel skeleton — corkscrews across the Drama Book Shop in Manhattan. It starts with ancient Greek texts and, 2,400 volumes later, spills into a pile that includes “Summer: The Donna Summer Musical.”

This 3,500-pound tribute to theatrical history is the centerpiece of the century-old bookstore’s new location, opening Thursday on West 39th Street.

This is a descriptive lead in journalistic writing terms, creating a clear setting before readers even get to the "news" -- a timely angle, a connection with prominent people, some odd details that make this store standout. 

Beginning with a descriptive paragraph or two is great when readers need context and when the writer predicts most readers will not be rushing by the piece (great for a Sunday read, for instance).

A descriptive lead or introduction "feels" natural, doesn't it? Think of the standard structure for a children's story: "Once upon a time, in a far-off kingdom/galaxy/country, lived a princess/poor boy/orphan..."

The setting is quickly established and the main character introduced. The conflict will be arriving soon and the bulk of the tale is how our protagonist overcomes the conflict and lives happily ever after.

There is a reason everyone recognizes this rhetorical strategy: it works and readers are comfortable with it. 

Copy the basic strategy and then insert your own details, whatever your narrative may be.

Logic, tradition, and theoretical national emergencies combine to produce... nothing.

Here's the top of a Washington Post story that you might have missed. As someone who long ago was drafted (but enlisted in the Air Force instead), anything that mention possible changes in the draft catches my eye.

The Supreme Court on Monday declined to revive a lawsuit challenging the nation’s male-only draft registration policy as unconstitutional.

The American Civil Liberties Union, representing two men and a group called the National Coalition for Men, called the requirement that men, but not women, register with the Selective Service System at age 18 “one of the last sex-based classifications in federal law.”

The Trump administration had defended the policy. President Biden’s acting solicitor general Elizabeth B. Prelogar had advised the court not to take up the issue now, because Congress is considering a national commission’s recommendation that women be included in draft registration.

“Any reconsideration of the constitutionality of the male-only registration requirement … would be premature at this time,” Prelogar wrote in a brief to the court.

The brief did not state whether Biden thinks women should be included, nor does it defend the current system, which requires only men ages 18 to 26 to submit their information should a military draft be needed again.

“Congress’s attention to the question may soon eliminate any need for the court to grapple with that constitutional question,” Prelogar wrote.

I am not certain a compelling case still exists to maintain the Selective Service System these days, but that was not the issue. The suit asked to have the system stop requiring only males to register. I am guessing that technology has advanced and government records at some level must be able to identify the names and birthdates of the vast majority of young citizens, if needed.

And modern war is unlikely to provide enough time for the country to gear up for mass mobilization in preparation for WWII-style battles. Threats to nations are much more likely to come in the form of cyber attacks... and by some definitions we may be at war right now with several rival governments.

I have little faith that a national commission of any kind will actually produce any action on this issue -- it's possible, certainly, but only a fool would bet on Congress agreeing on anything beyond which direction the sun comes up.

But, if you take the Biden administration at its word, there is a process underway, and this is one of those times when doing nothing is precisely the correct call. No outright yes or no decisions here, but a vague "maybe later" promise is fine with me. 

Please check your work

As a sort of palate cleanser, I am focusing today on the first two grafs of yesterday's New York Times editorial, headlined "Democrat or Republican, you probably love the post office." It is also likely a reflection of having a strong editing process in place (to avoid silly typos).

Last year, in the midst of a presidential election campaign and a pandemic, the U.S. Postal Service was politicized by President Donald Trump and his administration as had never been done before. Critics accused the postmaster general, Louis DeJoy, of making changes to mail delivery to increase Mr. Trump’s chances of re-election, a charge he vehemently denied.

This year, the Postal Service has returned to its traditional role of being the one thing in Washington that Democrats and Republicans can reliably agree on. It is heartening to see lawmakers from both parties lining up behind the Postal Service Reform Act of 2021 — legislation introduced in the Senate and House that would help bring the mail into the 21st century.

I will admit that leading off with "last year" is not promising -- oh, great, OLD news! -- but the rest of the graf provides needed context for what the editorial writer really wants to highlight: a proposed piece of legislation that looks promising.

Some would point out that the rhetorical structure of the two grafs that pairs "last year" and "this year" makes up for those rather listless phrases. I suppose little harm would be done by simply deleting those two-word phrases in terms of information, but that contrast is worth pointing out.

An editor might choose to delete "last year" but keep "this year," reasoning that the contrast remains. That's the thing about editing: it's all about choices. What to leave in. What to take out. What to restate. What to expand upon.

One part of this introduction ("lead" or "lede" in journalism jargon) that impressed me the most was the inclusion of a link to that proposed legislation. Arguments benefit from tighter focus, and instead of simply bemoaning the slow erosion of mailed letters in favor of electronic communication, here the writer can focus on some specifics. That focus also answers the reader question, "Why am I reading this right now?"

One thing that seems obvious is that the writer of this editorial has total command of the language and is not intimidated by complex sentences and tagging those sentences with important qualifications (like "a charge he vehemently denied"). 

One of the comments I most often seem to type on student essays is, "Slow down and re-read." We type slower than we can think and often end up with something on the screen that we can easily correct or fine-tune. But if we are in a panic to get something posted at the last moment -- or simply because we hate writing so much that our main goal is to stop writing -- those easy fixes don't get made and then become distractions for the reader.

The difference between professional writers and amateurs often boils down to a willingness to take one more look at the prose before hitting send. I know that oversimplifies a bit, but it's certainly the easiest change in our writing habits to make.

When an argument stumbles right out of the gate

The Boulder Daily Camera editorial this past weekend begins:

Monday is Memorial Day, and the best thing anyone can do, says Gulf War veteran Jason Scott Fearing, is to seek out a veteran and start a real, honest, conservation. It could lead to a lifelong friendship, a greater understanding of humanity, or simply and no less importantly allow one veteran to be heard.

An editorial is the official position of a publication on some issue of community interest, and this one doesn't seem all that controversial. But underlaying it may be the editorial writer observing many people saying, "Thank you for your service," to veterans and then leaving it at that.

That statement -- thank you for your service -- takes almost no investment by the speaker, could apply to almost any situation, and amounts to something like, "Have a nice day" or "Thoughts and prayers." These sorts of phrases are polite, of course, and aren't horrible in and of themselves.

But the opening paragraph of the editorial quickly establishes why the piece is being published that day, introduces a main character readers can care about. The second sentence uses the Power of Three examples to build a foundation for the rest of the argument.

One problem with this first graf, as you may have noticed immediately, is that the last word of the opening sentence should have been "conversation," not conservation. Sort of a "real, honest" typo.

When we discuss the importance of openings in our writing, we focus on grabbing reader attention and setting the scene or the situation right away. We also need to focus on getting each word right.

When we read a newspaper or a post or even a memo, we expect, at a minimum, that the words and constructions be correct. If we almost immediately encounter a mistake, that damages the writer's credibility (ethos) and puts everything else in the piece of writing into question. Hey, if the point of the editorial is to have a conversation, but we don't get that word right... Well, next story, please.

Spell check can't save us here. Conservation is a perfectly lovely word. It's just not the one the writer meant to use.

A more subtle error in the second sentence is that the series describing what such a conversation might produce is not "parallel." A parallel series repeats the syntax structure in each part of the series. What could a conversation lead to? A friendship. Understanding. And allowing (oops). So the series ends up noun, noun, verb, and that is sloppy writing.

What might clean this up? One try: "...a lifelong friendship, a greater understanding of humanity, or an opportunity for a veteran to be heard."

Everybody needs an editor, of course, but what happens to our credibility when the editors themselves make simple errors?

Spend time to increase the energy of your introductions

Continuing my thoughts on how important it is to get our writing off to a strong start, here is an example from yesterday's Washington Post:

When Daverius Peters arrived at his high school graduation ceremony on May 19, he was immediately blocked from entering the convention center where it was being held.

Peters, 18, was wearing the mandatory purple cap and gown, but a school representative standing at the front door told him his shoe selection was wrong.

“She said my shoes violated the dress code and I couldn’t attend the ceremony unless I changed them,” said Peters, a senior at Hahnville High School in Boutte, La.

According to the school’s graduation dress code, male students were to wear dark dress shoes, with an emphasis that “no athletic shoes” were to be worn.

Peters showed up that day in black leather sneakers with white soles, and while they weren’t traditional dress shoes, “I thought I could wear them because they’re black,” he said, adding that he abided by the rest of the guidelines, which stipulated that students must wear a white dress shirt and tie, as well as dark dress pants.

The story goes on to reveal that a paraeducator who also had a child graduating quickly gave Deverus his dress shoes to wear for the ceremony, and the day was saved (from officious and legalistic school administrators, in my humble opinion). A feel good story about a crisis averted.

I wanted to point out that the very first word -- "when" -- puts readers in a specific time and introduces a scene. We learn our protagonist's name and get the basic conflict in the story. The second sentence adds more context, and then we get the student's quoted words. 

We meet the student's rescuer in just a few more grafs and the reporter includes quotes from his parents and the administration and from the paraeducator who was shoeless until the ceremony ended. The nuts and bolts and reactions of everyone comprise the bulk of the story.

It's a positive story, ultimately, but those first few sentences provide the characters, setting, and conflict that is resolved quite naturally after that strong beginning.

Rev up our starts with clarity and with awareness of how readers like to get into stories. That initial energy gives you the boost you need to keep going and keep readers hooked enough to join you.

Let's get off to a great start

I hope to do some "close reading" of good writing from time to time as this blog progresses, and came across this opening paragraph from the novel Since We Fell, by Dennis Lehane.

"Rachel was born in the Pioneer Valley of western Massachusetts. It was known as the Region of the Five Colleges — Amherst, Hampshire, Mount Holyoke, Smith, and the University of Massachusetts — and it employed two thousand faculty to teach twenty-five thousand students. She grew up in a world of coffee shops, B&Bs, wide town commons, and clapboard houses with wraparound porches and musky attics. In autumn, leaves fell by the tubful and choked the streets, spilled into the sidewalks, and clogged fence holes. Some winters, snow encased the valley in silence so dense it became its own sound. In July and August, the mail carrier rode a bicycle with a bell on the handlebar, and the tourists arrived for summer stock theater and antiquing."

Considered holistically, this graf introduces us to Rachel through a description of a place, using a third person narrator who is channeling Rachel's memories.

Readers don't need writers to be stenographers, jotting down each piece of dialog, and they don't need writers to give them every detail of a setting or scene. But they DO count on writers to be curators of a sort, choosing from the many available images and discussions and situations and thus providing us with enough to help us imagine all the rest.

Notice that the graf begins with a rather brief subject-verb-object sentence. The following sentences then begin to lengthen and stretch to include longer series of descriptive details and eye-catching comparisons.

I often mention the power of three, as in three examples being just the right number to prove a point, and we see a great example of the power of three in that sentences that encapsulates autumn. 

The most unusual sentence is probably "Some winters, snow encased the valley in silence so dense it became its own sound." This juxtaposition of silence and the silence of the valley enveloped by snow is one of those sentences designed to make readers pause and spend some time considering that unusual silence.

Each sentence seems carefully constructed with loving attention to just the right detail. I can't say this often enough: how we BEGIN is so important in both setting the tone and scene, whatever our writing purpose may be, but it also establishes our ethos as writers and provides enough energy to keep readers wanting to learn more.

I rarely see a piece of writing that begins with an engaging start that soon turns to boring and mediocre. 

Spending extra time on our first few grafs is well worth the effort.