Thank you for wearing pants

Island fever

2005-11-09T23:55:00.000-08:00

It's getting late on this Wednesday night. Up late waiting for the dryer. I don't have many clothes in Vegas so if I want to have clean socks tomorrow, it's laundry tonight.

It feels like college again. And I'm shut away in my dorm room while Bryan and Tyson are watching a DVD in the commons.

I just pulled the shirts out of the dryer and out fell a fuzzy wad of paper. What did I leave in my pockets this time? Hmmmm. Two lotto tickets from the California lottery. Dang. Guess I won't know if I won the MegaMillions that I was gonna use to buy that island.

It's okay. No worries. The other reason I'm doing laundry is cuz I'm packin'. Tomorrow night I drive back to LA. And then heinously early Friday morning Nelly and I are off to the islands anyway. I'm already starting to feel like a million bucks.

Really looking forward to this. We can both use the trip. This consulting biz has created too much time apart and five days on a MoBay beach soaking in the sun and each other is absolutely IRIE.

Holiday shopping? Done.

2005-11-09T22:57:00.000-08:00

Hard to buy for friends and family? No more. Here's one thing for virtually everyone on your list and about the coolest thing you can get for under $20.

Owl pellets. These gems of mother nature are the "all-natural regurgitated balls of fur and bones that are the leftovers of the owl dining community." Fur balls from the avian set, if you will, but unlike the cat yeerp this is actually a hoot to dissect. Order a set for everyone or you can dissect one virtually if you're tight with a buck.

Excellent stocking stuffers.

Dear Reader

2005-11-09T22:39:00.000-08:00

In light of the latest circulation reports from ABC, I thought I'd preview my column from the upcoming SND Design magazine. Even though I wrote it two weeks ago, it probably won't be in mailboxes until sometime in January. You'd think we were printing rotogravure in the '20s with that kind of lead time.

Anyway, my last president's column for Design. J.B. can breathe a sigh of relief for a couple of months before turning his sights to wringing it out of Christine.

Over the years, I’ve been involved in a number of conversations in which a colleague (or was it me?) defended their own decision or questioned another’s based on what was best for “the reader.”

Making informed decisions based on what you know about your readership is smart. Invoking “The Reader” isn’t. If such a monolithic, simplistic entity existed, our business would be so much easier — although a lot less interesting.

In this complex, quickly changing media environment, too often the capital R reader being discussed still looks amazingly like the journalist doing the talking. The target reader many of us seem most keen about is someone about our age, with remarkably similar interests, taste, experience, views. In short, “Me.”

(The other readership segments acknowledged by at least token action in newsrooms are “Immediate Family,” followed by “Neighbors and Friends” and someone named Martha who likes a good “talker.”)

Obviously, there’s nothing wrong with using your judgment and experience as a barometer. That’s what you’re paid to do and it’s an important part of the journalistic process. But it’s essential to also look beyond ourselves and the other journalists we navel gaze with.

Readers have been a big topic for years, although mostly as we bemoan their dwindling numbers twice a year when ABC announces the latest toll.

It’s a critical time to start putting the endless theoretical discussions we’ve been having into real changes in the paper — multi-faceted changes that stand a chance at having an impact across broad segments of readership.

While this is a challenging issue, it’s also one filled with opportunities. Don’t be fooled that a movement to a smarter, reader-based approach means you have to become obsequious. I’m talking about thoughtful, measured responses and not some knee-jerk embrace of a fad.

Somewhere between “spinach journalism” and “journaltainment” there’s a lot of room to do interesting work. Serious, probing, contextual journalism won’t get lost in the equation if you’re having a serious, probing, contextual discussion about readers.

As visual journalists, we need to look as hard at ourselves as we do reporters and line editors. What’s the difference between the editor I once heard about who insisted on running his own 35-inch column contained to the sports front five days a week or a designer who approaches a blank page simply as a canvas for their personal expression?

There are many palace lies in the world of journalism. But let’s at least start by getting this one on the table: Many journalists don’t read much of their own paper beyond what they’ve written and edited the day before.

Put aside the argument about whether this is appropriate (it’s not), and ask why this is. It’s not all that complex: They’re either not interested or don’t have the time and energy to ferret out the good stuff. How can we expect more of people outside the business? Newspapers have a distinguished history of not respecting readers’ time. Readers are increasingly returning the favor by spending their time elsewhere.

But this is the kind of general screed that you’ve heard before. Inside this most important issue of Design, you’ll find more specifics and read how others are trying to step up to the challenge. I know you’ll find it provocative and useful in your own discussions.

By the time you read this, my presidency in SND will be winding down, if not already over. On New Year’s Day, I hand over the party hats and noisemakers to the very capable Christine McNeal. These last couple months after the conference have been spent finishing or pushing forward on a few initiatives – some of them exquisitely bureaucratic but essential to our functioning behind the scenes, some more broad-based and incredibly important. Tops among the latter is our ethics policy, which we hope to post on the website in draft form soon.

A year goes by fast and presidents never get done all the things they want to. But my main priority was to upgrade the website and thanks to a bunch of people – notably Elise Burroughs and Matt Mansfield – we did just that. There are so many people I should thank, but the list would go on forever. And I hear Jonathon Berlin striking up the orchestra – the music letting me know my time here is over.

It’s been an honor being a part of the leadership of this organization. And it’s been an inspiration seeing the creativity, skill, passion and commitment of the members of this worldwide family of journalists.

waiting

2005-11-07T15:50:00.000-08:00

according to astrology.com, this is what should be happening today. it's nearly 4pm and i'm not making progress on either front.

Quickie:
You're getting along well with others. Expect people to elect you their leader.

Overview:
A family member is about to try to coax you into joining a group of friends who don't care about your stock portfolio, your latest promotion or who designed your shoes. Go ahead. Talk about refreshing!

iPorn

2005-11-05T22:17:00.000-08:00

This certainly didn't take long.

The sky is falling

2005-11-05T21:58:00.000-08:00

or so it would seem in this little Colorado 'burb... Chicken Little is the good news: mauling dogs, murdering grandmas, arrests, probes...

Michael and Jackie sittin' in a tree

2005-11-03T23:42:00.000-08:00

K-I-S-S-I-N-G
first comes love,
then comes marriage...

but the date has yet to be set...

Met up with my friend and former L.A. Times colleague Michael Whitley at the Stratosphere tonight. I suspect I'm not breaking any news here, but he asked Jackie to marry him on the way over last night in an elaborately planned, carefully choreographed evening that included assists from United Airlines and the Bellagio hotel. But that's vintage Michael.

Anyway, she said yes and they're both still very much in basking mode tonight. Their families are here to celebrate the 30th birthday of Jackie and her brother and sister (yes, they're triplets), which is on Saturday. But that's a couple days away. For tonight, let's forget about Bennifer and Bragelina. It's all about "Jackael," a fellow named Dom Perignon and many toasts to the most excellent couple.

Cheers, my friends!

If this whole newspaper thing goes south...

2005-11-03T16:50:00.000-08:00

...you might consider designing in an industry that never seems to be losing "readers." This tip on SugarBank for amateur pornographers hoping to make it as a professional:

"Packaging design is key to your success. People won’t think to watch your DVD/clip if the packaging doesn’t draw them in. Conversely you can sell almost anything if the box it comes in is nice enough. Spend time and money on making your website/blog/box look good. Don’t be forced to tell people '…it’s a lot better than it looks.' "

Judging from this mock-up example of a poster that sells, a little typographic ability and you can be a "porn star" designer.

Item spotted on Defamer, "From the Makers of Shanghai Poon"

Vegas Short Story #1

2005-11-03T11:13:00.000-08:00

Spending some time hanging around journalists in Vegas and starting to hear some of the "Only in Vegas" stories.

Here's one involving Shecky Greene, the comedian who headlined at the Sands for so long, making $150,000 a week back when, according to Charles Grodin in an interview with Shecky, making $150,000 a week "really meant something." (Did I miss something? It doesn't anymore?)

Shecky was drunk and drove his convertible into the fountain at Caesar's Palace. A concerned witness ran over to check on his wellbeing. And there was Shecky, arms spread wide, water pouring in over him. "No hot wax, please."

Two cities, two approaches

2005-11-03T07:36:00.000-08:00

From cities that played a big role in her life, two very different design approaches to the Rosa Parks funeral.

The Holidays Are Upon Us

2005-11-01T17:33:00.000-08:00

Definitely.

Definitely not.

And, if you missed it, there's still time.

Disturbing Quote of the Day

2005-11-01T15:35:00.000-08:00

This just in from my friend Vanessa McVay at the Wenatchee World, who noted, "I bet you never got stories like this in L.A."

Actually, stories of boundary issues with animals are a dime-a-dozen in LA.

the backstory:
Father/son mountain men in coos bay, oregon find an orphaned bear, raise it up to adulthood in their cabin, sleeping with it, eating with it, etc. wildlife people find out and take the bear away.

the disturbing quote:
"We treated her like a daughter.... We're hicks. We're mountain men," Perkett said. "We took her because she was dying and we loved her. The only thing we did wrong was love one another."

Lifetime Awards

2005-11-01T14:32:00.000-08:00

If you haven't been to snd.org lately, go check out this awards page. It features all the awards given out at the banquet, with the remarks I made, quick Q&As Matt Mansfield and I did afterwards, the videos Bryan Volk did that ran in the background. Good stuff and thanks to Matt, Bryan and the web team for putting this page together.

Defaming Wilma

2005-11-01T12:34:00.000-08:00

This image pulled off NewsDesigner. From Miami New Times. Hilarious.

Halloween at the DMV

2005-11-01T10:39:00.000-08:00

This was not a conscious decision.

Didn't think that going to the DMV on Halloween would be any more of a freak show than any other day of the year. So I was surprised at the aggressive costuming happening at the Pasadena outlet.

I paid my $25 renewal fee to and had my vision test administered by a "Fallen Angel."

(She actually made a little sign. With the quote marks. You have to consider it a somewhat failed effort, I think, if you need to post an explainer.)

Then I had my photo taken by a black cat.

(Nelly asked why I didn't smile. She said it looked like a booking mug. I said it's because I didn't have time. The cat instructed me to stand on the red line. I looked down to see where the red line was, looked up and BOOM! That was that. The cat may have nine lives. She apparently only takes one picture.)

Next was the written test. The Grim Reaper told me to put my Rules of the Road book on the shelf behind me. The Reaper said "no cheating." It wouldn't have been the first time that I cheated Death.

(I brought the test back to the Reaper, confident that I had passed. But when Death is grading you, you start thinking back to all the things you might have screwed up. The Reaper started talking: "We're on a roll... 30 in a row... How many more?" I was thinking, "Call me Baskin-Robbins cuz I'm making it 31!" And then I started wondering if 30 was a lot for people passing the test? I know smart people who have failed it. Multiple times. So 30 sounded like we were having a good day. But as the Reaper kept talking, it became clear that this winning streak wasn't about driving but about college football. Death, apparently, is a USC Trojans fan who bites his or her nails down to a nubby quick.)

Finally, I had to turn all my paperwork -- including my 100% correct test -- over to the person in Window A. There wasn't a person in Window A so I was left to wonder who might come over. Would it be the robust woman completely surrounded by a shower curtain? How would she type? Or maybe the beautiful archangel with the big white wings? She didn't need a sign to explain. But then a guy showed up. No costume. "It takes all kinds," he said, nodding his head toward the woman in the shower curtain contraption. Yes, it does. Then he did the most amazing thing. He told me that I should lower the weight listed on the license. How often does that happen? So I dropped it 20 pounds. He took another 10 off. So, now, like everyone, I cheated on the weight on my driver's license. Only this time, it's officially sanctioned.

On the way out, I was glad that I didn't have to take a driving test. The inspector was dressed as a pirate.

Mr. Sulu is gay

2005-10-30T14:06:00.000-08:00

Read this item in the Mercury News Saturday. Well, you wouldn't know it from this photo. Doesn't Starfleet have a "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy?

When journalists dance...

2005-10-29T09:55:00.000-07:00

… the world is a somewhat bleaker place.

Brace yourself for these photos from the opening party of APME in San Jose this past Wednesday. You will want to drink your vodka straight from the dog’s dish tonight.

(Ed note: In a rare moment of reflection, photos were removed in case I need one of these highly-placed, amazingly graceful executives to hire me someday.)

Actually, I had a great time at the party. We returned to the scene of the crime, so to speak: the museum next to the Fairmont where we had our SNDSJ opening party. And, once again, I was a guest of the very gracious folks at the Mercury News. They're always talking about the DNA of the paper. They definitely have a strong hospitality gene.

No offense to this shindig, but the SNDSJ party was better. Last year we were under the tent out among the palm trees. This one was all inside the museum. You simply can't beat a tent. And while this bash had way more food (a gianormous pan of paella, reminiscent of the food stations at the bullring in Barcelona), it didn't have the same energy. There were a lot of long faces in the room, editors who had already been through the budget wringer and see it coming again.

I was talking with one editor who runs a medium size newsroom with a vibrant visual culture. He has lost 20% of his staff over the last five years and his recently departed visual leader will not be replaced. But he, like everyone else I spoke with, brightened up when we were either talking about:
A. the terrific enterprise stories they just published or were about to publish
B. the members of their staff who bring passion and personality to the newsroom and the craft.

Great journalism will do that.

But this was still a good time and no better time than at the end of the night at the live auction.

Matt Mansfield, who got me on the guest list (thanks, Matt!), thought it would be a good idea to check out the auction. A short silent auction, followed by a live auction complete with paddles you wave when you want to bid, this APME gig makes a chunk more money than our SND auction and we wondered if there wasn’t a lesson to be learned.

Here’s the simple secret to raising more money in Orlando: Get lots of editors on the upper end of the pay scale to come and aggressively liquor them up over the course of the evening. Hope one of them is tipsy enough to raise recklessly and heckle others, appealing to the competitive nature of this group. Before you know it, someone will have dropped a K for some Omaha Steaks and Maine Lobsters.

Me? I woke up with a lightly throbbing headache and tickets to baseball games in Milwaukee and D.C.

What the hell?

The Art of Being Kellye

2005-10-19T19:42:00.000-07:00

Houston's own Kellye Sanford, whose portrait now hangs in the SND Hall of Fame, showed us the art of putting on a conference. What we didn't see was her real art. And it's quite impressive.

Wondering if the above isn't a bit of a self-portrait?

Come to think of it, that's exactly how I remember her looking in the Flying Saucer pub the Monday before the conference began. But we'd all had a little too much to drink.

Here's to Kellye!

Beer porn

2005-10-19T13:36:00.000-07:00

Ran across a link on another website to this site, which is devoted to photographing beer through a microscope! What genius came up with this? This is a person that I really would like to meet. In fact, I'm considering switching to Windows just so I can use the "Beershots Screen Saver."

Just so you don't think this is totally a waste of mental energy and discretionary income, please take a moment to read about their methodology. It's a thorough discussion on techniques and scientific challenges that one faces when imaging beer microbiology. This is a project of the Florida State University and likely taxpayer subsidized. Some pork I can support.

The image above, by the way, is from a Red Stripe. Put it up because I just found out Indy pal Kenney Marlett is going to be in MoBay the same time I am in November and at the resort next door. As surely as we drained the Houston Hilton of Shiner Bock, we'll put a strain on the local supply of Red Stripe and jerk.

Conflict avoidance

2005-10-18T20:40:00.000-07:00

For many newspaper designers I know this is an essential conference. Fortunately its spring date doesn't conflict with SND Orlando.

Harriet and Me

2005-10-18T19:39:00.000-07:00

As the Senate debates the timetable for Harriet Miers' confirmation hearings, there's still a lot of talk among the media's newly anointed "chattering class" about her gushing notes to Mr. Bush.

They call them "cheerful, almost fawning" and have led several people to claim this appointment is not because of her qualifications but because of her obsequious worship of the President over the years.

I say that's simply not true. Despite the "pitbull in size 6 shoes" characterization, she's just a really nice lady -- the kind of person who will correct you when you call a warm, cozy manufactured home a "trailer."

And those notes? Those weren't special to George W. Bush. She did the same for everyone... and I mean everyone, including me.

A few months into my SND presidency, I enjoyed the unexpected e-mail, "You are the best president ever -- deserving of great respect."

And I cherish the 2003 handwritten note that mentioned my daughters: "Hopefully Hannah and Claire recognize that their father is 'cool' -- as the rest of us do. All I hear is how great you are doing. ... Keep up the good work. Los Angeles is blessed!"

I'm sure I disappointed her in May 1996 when I was unable to attend a ceremony honoring her. But the invite sure was sweet: "I am respectful of your great many time commitments and I realize you receive many, many requests... I would be very pleased if you are able to participate but either way I feel honored even to be able to extend this invitation to such an extraordinary person."

So, like Harry Reid, who helped make all this happen, I can't wait for the confirmation hearings. A little etiquette and old-fashioned manners will be great for the court.

BillTracker: Across the Mojave

2005-10-17T20:21:00.000-07:00

After a blistering, fantastic, full-on lightning storm in Altadena last night (window open, the smell of a hard rain almost as if I were home in the Midwest), I woke up this morning and drove across the desert to Las Vegas.

It was the first time to do the LA-Vegas drive and the roads were blissfully empty.

With the help of John Berendt's new book about Venice (City of Falling Angels) being read to me by some actor I've never heard of, the ride went quicker than I could have hoped for (just under four hours) given the circumstances -- that being that large swaths of the Mojave were getting drenched by that same storm front, lightning dancing along the distant horizon.

While it's the first such trip, it won't be the last. In fact, as I was saying to my Star-Trib friend Lisa Clausen on a piece of the drive, my life is in jumbo chaos mode for a while. (Though perhaps not as chaotic as their household where my big, dumb, sweet lab, Steve, is still wreaking havoc.)

If splitting my time between L.A., Las Vegas and San Diego weren't hard enough, my L.A. landlord has sold the house and we basically have two months to get everything together and move on.

Now, if only I knew where I was moving on to, that would be a lot easier. The idea of moving twice in short order makes my stomach hurt.

Still interviewing, still considering the entire consulting option, still enjoying working with the Sun. But some sort of decision will have to be made sooner rather than later.

So, for the few of you who really need to know (or care) about such things, I've created a temporary "tracking" mechanism so you have an idea where I am at any given time. It's call BillTracker. You'll find the link over there to the right. Just under T-Ball.

There's still lightning out in the desert as I write this tonight. Perhaps the Journalism Gods know that Judith Miller is in town tonight, readying herself to talk at SPJ in the morning.

Houston -- no problem

2005-10-13T19:53:00.000-07:00

Just getting back to the West Coast following the SND conference and a few days driving for around East and Central Jesus, Texas.

Was very busy during the conference and didn't get to nearly as many sessions as I had hoped to. But a couple of highlights for me:

President's Night at the Continental Club. I probably should have hosted something a little more high class, but I can't pull that off. This was a beer joint with a loud, live band of Chronicle folks serving up some native Texas music. A lot of fun. Most people headed out to dinner when our part ended at 8 p.m. Those who stayed got to see Matt Erickson and Kevin Wendt do live karaoke with Molly and the Ringwalds and totally rock the house with Sweet Child of Mine.

Stan Tiner's presentation at the luncheon about the Biloxi's paper heroic efforts to publish after Katrina was heartfelt (and, at times, heartbreaking) and inspiring.

The view from the bar on the 24th floor of the Hilton, which was spectacular. Good thing since we were up there so much. My bar bill on the last night was $800 -- no food, just drinks. That was solid. Guess it's good for the Tribune company that I left before I could try and slip that through.

The whole Saturday night shindig... the group hug with my former LATimes teammates Joe Hutchinson and Michael Whitley... Matt Mansfield and Denise Reagan were great anchors for the SND News Desk, the Stephanie Grace Lim dancers were huge fun and I was incredibly honored to be able to hand out SND Lifetime Achievement Awards to George Rorick and Nanette Bisher. Jonathan Berlin, Whitley, Bryan Volk, Pai and T-Shirt Carter made a lot of it happen as well; and, of course, Sir Grimwade and the Cajun Critiquer.

There are lots of photos floating around out there. I'll try and link you to some soon (as soon as I can figure out which set contains the fewest of them with me looking like I'm completely "in my cups"). My thanks to the Houston Chronicle and all the Texas and Oklahoma journalists who pitched in (Chris Morris and Bill Bootz, a tip of the 10-gallon hat to you). But mostly to Susan Bischoff and Kellye Sanford who did more to make this happen than any two humans should have to...

And the city of Houston, of course. A few years ago when the conference was announced for Houston a few folks got to witness a rather characteristically obsenity-laced rant over a pint or two (one even has a video burst, which is appropriately named). But that's because I hadn't been to Houston since 1977 -- a trip that fairly convinced me there was no reason to ever come back. I mean the highlight was the bar band at the Holiday Inn: Bev and the Bevettes. But I took a quick trip back to make peace with the city and found someplace totally different and way more interesting and vibrant that I'd imagined it could have become. And now, like several of the great cities of the world, at least two of my favorite top 25 bars/joints are right there -- La Carafe and the Alabama Ice House with Continental Club right on their boot heels.

What does this mean?

2005-03-31T13:53:00.000-08:00

Rob Corddry of The Daily Show did a piece about blogging and becoming a celebrity journalist. "Thank you for wearing pants" was a random, ridiculously funny line that had nothing to do with anything. If you're interested, you can watch it here.

My plan at the start is to use this so my family and a few friends can keep up with what, at least for now, is a very hectic life.

Stay tuned and thank you for wearing pants.