My cassette player in my car died this week, and I’m not happy about it.
While this statement makes me sound primitive, just one step above someone still using an eight-track player, rest be assured I haven’t listened to a cassette since 1992. I use the cassette player, with an adaptor, to connect my iPod Touch to my stereo, allowing me to listen to nearly 2,000 of my favorite songs from my portable library. Call me archaic now.
Without a cassette player, though, I’m now forced to listen to the radio, and it’s driving me mad.
No matter what station I listen to, it seems nearly identical to the one I listened to before it and the one I will listen to next. Radio has become a formula in which a small selection of the same songs are played over and over again, the deejays have little personality and read the same script, and the commercials are played in synch with other stations to give people no reason to change the dial when they come on.
Radio stations playing the same songs repeatedly is nothing new; as a teen a friend and I would listen to pop stations while fishing to hear how many times in one hour it would play a popular song of the time, such as “Can’t Touch This” by M.C. Hammer. Top 40 radio was designed to do this.
Variety was available by listening to non-Top 40 radio stations, but this doesn’t seem to be the case anymore, as even those stations seem to have a limited selection.
Deejays were fun to listen to when I was younger, but now most of them seem like the same person. I wouldn’t be surprised if they are, as technology has probably allowed for the invention of a computer-generated person, like Max Headroom, to deliver bland commentary between songs, flavored with brief news tidbits taken from a wire-feed anyone with a computer already knew about yesterday.
A few of the morning deejays on several radio stations can be entertaining at times, but even they sometimes seem bored following the same script their corporate-owned bosses say they should follow because studies show that’s what the public wants.
I didn’t always have a problem with radio. As a child of the 1980s, I grew up loving it. I can recall spending many Sunday evenings listening to Casey Kasem’s Top 40 Countdown, ready to press record on my boombox when he played a song I wanted for my collection.
I also perfected the art of speed-dialing trying to win radio station contests that required people to be a certain number caller. I won a few contests, although the prizes weren’t anything to brag about.
Before the day of instant information from the Internet, radio was my main source of news about some of my favorite music artists. I fell asleep and woke up listening to the radio in hopes of catching news about the release date of the next album by artists such as Guns N’ Roses, Poison and Bon Jovi.
During college I was a student deejay, taking control of the radio station for three-hour shifts at weird hours. I may have had only three listeners sometimes, but I made sure those three listeners were entertained. I played songs I loved, figuring they were probably listening because they shared my taste in music. I didn’t stick to one genre, going from a Public Enemy song one minute to an Eagles song the next. If people called in to request a song, I played it if I had it.
My friends would also join me in the studio, many of them student deejays themselves, and we made sure listeners would laugh.
This free-for-all format has disappeared from radio, and that’s why I’ve been listening to my iPod for the past two years. I’m kind of sad my broken cassette player has reminded me radio is broken, too. I prefer to remember the good times I once had with radio. Maybe I need to fix my cassette player, so I can fix my mind into remembering when radio was good.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Times are a-changin' at The Gazette
“Come writers and critics/Who prophesize with your pen/And keep your eyes wide/The chance won't come again.” – From “Times They Are A-Changin’” by Bob Dylan.
No matter the situation, Bob Dylan has probably written a song with a lyric that applies to it.
Beginning June 1 with the retirement of Gene Kemmeter as the managing editor of The Gazette and continuing until early July through a transition period loaded with a number of changes, “Times They Are A-Changin’,” would most apply to the situation here.
Gene’s retirement is a huge change for The Gazette. For the past 11 years, he has been the face of the paper, which he helped found with several other local media legends, including George Rogers, Jim Schuh and Bill Berry. People calling, e-mailing or stopping in at The Gazette most likely encountered Gene, who was always more than happy to meet those people.
He has also been a silent but major presence at events throughout the community. From Cultural Fest to Riverfront Rendezvous and from both of Portage County’s fairs to the Jazz Festival, Gene was there, camera in one hand and notepad in the other, taking photos and documenting the event for The Gazette.
Gene has also been a top-notch reporter in covering news events, meetings, controversies and anything else the newspaper business has thrown at him for the more than 40 years he’s been in the business. He learned from the best, quoting George Rogers to me constantly in the three years I’ve worked with him, and he has always been more than happy to share what he has learned.
I’ve benefited from this knowledge, as has his son, John, The Gazette’s sports editor. Former employees have also benefited, including Chris Randazzo; Gene’s other son, Mike, who is the news director for a radio station in Appleton; and dozens of interns who have worked here throughout the years.
Following in Gene’s footsteps is daunting, and I hope I can live up to his legendary status as one of the finest journalists this community has ever produced.
Fortunately, I’ve got some good help. In addition to Gene, who still plans on writing and taking photographs during his well-deserved retirement, John Kemmeter will now be working for The Gazette on a full-time basis, rather than just part-time. Making him a full-time employee was an easy decision, as John is one of the finest sports writers in central Wisconsin.
Also helping is Matthew Brown, a 1995 Stevens Point Area Senior High School (SPASH) graduate. Matthew, who recently moved back to Stevens Point after living elsewhere throughout the country, will have the city beat Gene covered, as well as other writing and editing duties as The Gazette’s part-time associate editor.
The Gazette also has three interns this summer: Rose Schneider, a 2008 Pacelli High School graduate majoring in international journalism at the University of Wisconsin-Whitewater; Thomasina Johnson, a 2008 SPASH graduate majoring in journalism and French at Miami University of Ohio; and Mandy Glenzer, a 2008 SPASH graduate majoring in photography at Columbia University in Chicago, Ill. The veterans here plan on putting them through The Gazette’s unofficial “School of Journalism” this summer, so when they return to their schools in the fall they’ll be at the top of their classes.
I would be negligent if I didn’t mention The Gazette’s longtime employees: production manager Paula O’Kray, ad salesmen Kevin “Casey” Sullivan and Matt Clucas, circulation manager Ann Leahy, and graphic artist Brett Hiorns. All five have contributed in big ways in making The Gazette one of the best weekly papers in Wisconsin.
Beginning with this issue, on page 4, Brett will draw editorial cartoons for The Gazette. An artist known most for his work with New York Times-bestselling author Patrick Rothfuss of Stevens Point, Brett excels at drawing caricatures, a skill that will serve him well in this endeavor.
One of the biggest changes taking place at The Gazette has nothing to do with personnel, though. On July 1, The Gazette will move from its location at 2800 Church St. to downtown Stevens Point at 1042 Main St., the former ProLogic building.
This new location will better serve our needs, as it’s bigger and better designed. It’s also in a more visible location, right across the street from the library. We’re excited about the move and invite people to stop in and visit us when we’re there.
Also, people may notice the small price increase with this issue of The Gazette. Frankly, it was needed because the single-copy price has been 50 cents since The Gazette started in 1999. Even at 75 cents, we still think you’re getting a good deal.
The times may have changed here at The Gazette, but we are confident we’ll continue to provide a quality product as we have always done.
No matter the situation, Bob Dylan has probably written a song with a lyric that applies to it.
Beginning June 1 with the retirement of Gene Kemmeter as the managing editor of The Gazette and continuing until early July through a transition period loaded with a number of changes, “Times They Are A-Changin’,” would most apply to the situation here.
Gene’s retirement is a huge change for The Gazette. For the past 11 years, he has been the face of the paper, which he helped found with several other local media legends, including George Rogers, Jim Schuh and Bill Berry. People calling, e-mailing or stopping in at The Gazette most likely encountered Gene, who was always more than happy to meet those people.
He has also been a silent but major presence at events throughout the community. From Cultural Fest to Riverfront Rendezvous and from both of Portage County’s fairs to the Jazz Festival, Gene was there, camera in one hand and notepad in the other, taking photos and documenting the event for The Gazette.
Gene has also been a top-notch reporter in covering news events, meetings, controversies and anything else the newspaper business has thrown at him for the more than 40 years he’s been in the business. He learned from the best, quoting George Rogers to me constantly in the three years I’ve worked with him, and he has always been more than happy to share what he has learned.
I’ve benefited from this knowledge, as has his son, John, The Gazette’s sports editor. Former employees have also benefited, including Chris Randazzo; Gene’s other son, Mike, who is the news director for a radio station in Appleton; and dozens of interns who have worked here throughout the years.
Following in Gene’s footsteps is daunting, and I hope I can live up to his legendary status as one of the finest journalists this community has ever produced.
Fortunately, I’ve got some good help. In addition to Gene, who still plans on writing and taking photographs during his well-deserved retirement, John Kemmeter will now be working for The Gazette on a full-time basis, rather than just part-time. Making him a full-time employee was an easy decision, as John is one of the finest sports writers in central Wisconsin.
Also helping is Matthew Brown, a 1995 Stevens Point Area Senior High School (SPASH) graduate. Matthew, who recently moved back to Stevens Point after living elsewhere throughout the country, will have the city beat Gene covered, as well as other writing and editing duties as The Gazette’s part-time associate editor.
The Gazette also has three interns this summer: Rose Schneider, a 2008 Pacelli High School graduate majoring in international journalism at the University of Wisconsin-Whitewater; Thomasina Johnson, a 2008 SPASH graduate majoring in journalism and French at Miami University of Ohio; and Mandy Glenzer, a 2008 SPASH graduate majoring in photography at Columbia University in Chicago, Ill. The veterans here plan on putting them through The Gazette’s unofficial “School of Journalism” this summer, so when they return to their schools in the fall they’ll be at the top of their classes.
I would be negligent if I didn’t mention The Gazette’s longtime employees: production manager Paula O’Kray, ad salesmen Kevin “Casey” Sullivan and Matt Clucas, circulation manager Ann Leahy, and graphic artist Brett Hiorns. All five have contributed in big ways in making The Gazette one of the best weekly papers in Wisconsin.
Beginning with this issue, on page 4, Brett will draw editorial cartoons for The Gazette. An artist known most for his work with New York Times-bestselling author Patrick Rothfuss of Stevens Point, Brett excels at drawing caricatures, a skill that will serve him well in this endeavor.
One of the biggest changes taking place at The Gazette has nothing to do with personnel, though. On July 1, The Gazette will move from its location at 2800 Church St. to downtown Stevens Point at 1042 Main St., the former ProLogic building.
This new location will better serve our needs, as it’s bigger and better designed. It’s also in a more visible location, right across the street from the library. We’re excited about the move and invite people to stop in and visit us when we’re there.
Also, people may notice the small price increase with this issue of The Gazette. Frankly, it was needed because the single-copy price has been 50 cents since The Gazette started in 1999. Even at 75 cents, we still think you’re getting a good deal.
The times may have changed here at The Gazette, but we are confident we’ll continue to provide a quality product as we have always done.
Public Safety Academy shows greatness of local emergency personnel
I recently sort of completed the Stevens Point Citizens Public Safety Academy, which was formerly known as the Citizens Police Academy and which I dubbed, before even setting foot in the classroom, “Police Academy 4 1/2: Citizens Back on Patrol” after the great 1987 film “Police Academy 4: Citizens on Patrol.” Some classics deserve a true sequel (“Police Academy 5” was horrible and doesn’t count), even if it is a real-life version featuring a cast of mostly normal people, none of whom can make cool sound effects like Michael Winslow as Sgt. Larvell Jones.
I only “sort of” completed it because work and family commitments caused me to miss six of the 10 classes, including the coolest ones in which class members got to drive a police car, shoot guns and get tasered. OK, I’m glad I missed that last one, as I’ve touched an electric fence before and have no desire to ever allow electricity to run through my body again.
But the classes I did attend were heavily informative, even if they did go a little too long, and they did leave me knowing a lot more about what police officers and other emergency personnel do, making me appreciate them even more.
Led by Lt. Ron Carlson, a 31-year veteran of the Stevens Point Police Department, the class included lessons about dispatchers, ambulances, Operating While Intoxicated (OWI) enforcement, crime-scene evidence collection, the Fire Department, defense and arrest tactics, field-training officer scenarios and the ones mentioned before.
Aiding Lt. Carlson were Kevin Ruder, Stevens Point police chief, and a host of other emergency personnel, including dispatchers, detectives, other police officers and firefighters. All were well versed in their roles and all would have my trust should I ever be involved in a situation in which I need their help.
Ruder told the 14 people in the class – community leaders chosen because they could communicate what they learned to other people in the community – the purpose of them being there was to inform us about what the lives of police officers, firefighters and other public safety workers are like.
Lt. Carlson said no two days are exactly the same. “It’s an adventure,” he said. “To see how policing is done in your community is a lot different than the version you think you know from television. This is not an edited version of ‘Cops’ you may be used to seeing.”
It’s also not “CSI,” “Criminal Minds,” “21 Jump Street,” “Cop Rock” (we could only hope police officers would break out into song and dance when the mood struck) or, sadly, “Police Academy.” Honestly, I always knew television and film highlighted the excitement and downplayed, and in most cases don’t show, the legwork that goes into a police officer’s job.
Detective Ken Lepak said it best, though. “The public’s perception from CSI is ridiculous,” he said, noting people often expect officers to use the gadgetry featured on the show to collect evidence and put the bad guys behind bars, sometimes within an hour’s time, like they do on the show.
He said he once asked a nurse who had a piece of jewelry stolen and who demanded CSI-like skills in resolving the case some simple questions that caused her to rethink her demand. “Do you watch ‘Grey’s Anatomy’? Do the nurses and doctors at your hospital go around making out with each other all over the place like they do on that show?” Touché, Detective Lepak, I say.
Of the four classes I did attend, the one I found most interesting was the one focusing on dispatchers. Many people probably don’t think about these people much, I know I didn’t, but they usually are the first people one has contact with when phoning in an emergency. As a result, dispatchers have to be calm, collective, direct to the point and capable of helping the person that made the call, all while informing the correct emergency personnel about the scene they need to go to and what has happened there.
Stevens Point has seven dispatchers who work four 10-hour shifts per week, answering 100,000 calls as a unit. Dispatcher Kim Zvara told the class people often complain dispatchers sound short with them when they call, but said it’s just them being blunt, as they are often dealing with multiple calls and other situations that may be deemed more important.
While in the dispatch center at the Police Department, the two dispatchers received a call from a concerned mother about her two children she couldn’t find. The dispatchers immediately made a number of calls, to officers patrolling the area, and within minutes both children were located, much to the relief of the class participants. For the dispatchers, though, it was just another situation they helped to quickly resolve.
Another interesting class I attended was the one about OWI enforcement. Officer Steven Spath told the class 81 motorists have been cited for OWI in Stevens Point this year, 279 were cited in 2009, 230 in 2008 and 186 in 2007.
Those statistics, he said, would be a lot higher if the Police Department had more personnel to bust the drunk drivers, noting he estimates 80 percent of the people driving on Main and Clark streets in Stevens Point late at night on the weekends are probably over the legal limit. I guess I know where I won’t be driving at those times.
Officer Spath showed the class a video of an actual OWI bust that occurred in Stevens Point several weeks earlier. The culprit was clearly not fit to be driving, despite his best efforts to tell the officer he was.
I also appreciated Officer Spath telling the class Wisconsin’s OWI laws are the most lax in the country and they need to be revamped to make our roads safer. He said someone who is arrested for OWI in this state can be bailed out that night and be on the road again, still drunk, noting he has arrested people two times in one night for OWI.
Throughout the 10-week seminar, class members learned quite a bit of this type of information. Had I been there more, I’m sure my brain would be on overload. Then again had I been there to get tased, my brain may have lost all this information and I wouldn’t have had anything to share.
I only “sort of” completed it because work and family commitments caused me to miss six of the 10 classes, including the coolest ones in which class members got to drive a police car, shoot guns and get tasered. OK, I’m glad I missed that last one, as I’ve touched an electric fence before and have no desire to ever allow electricity to run through my body again.
But the classes I did attend were heavily informative, even if they did go a little too long, and they did leave me knowing a lot more about what police officers and other emergency personnel do, making me appreciate them even more.
Led by Lt. Ron Carlson, a 31-year veteran of the Stevens Point Police Department, the class included lessons about dispatchers, ambulances, Operating While Intoxicated (OWI) enforcement, crime-scene evidence collection, the Fire Department, defense and arrest tactics, field-training officer scenarios and the ones mentioned before.
Aiding Lt. Carlson were Kevin Ruder, Stevens Point police chief, and a host of other emergency personnel, including dispatchers, detectives, other police officers and firefighters. All were well versed in their roles and all would have my trust should I ever be involved in a situation in which I need their help.
Ruder told the 14 people in the class – community leaders chosen because they could communicate what they learned to other people in the community – the purpose of them being there was to inform us about what the lives of police officers, firefighters and other public safety workers are like.
Lt. Carlson said no two days are exactly the same. “It’s an adventure,” he said. “To see how policing is done in your community is a lot different than the version you think you know from television. This is not an edited version of ‘Cops’ you may be used to seeing.”
It’s also not “CSI,” “Criminal Minds,” “21 Jump Street,” “Cop Rock” (we could only hope police officers would break out into song and dance when the mood struck) or, sadly, “Police Academy.” Honestly, I always knew television and film highlighted the excitement and downplayed, and in most cases don’t show, the legwork that goes into a police officer’s job.
Detective Ken Lepak said it best, though. “The public’s perception from CSI is ridiculous,” he said, noting people often expect officers to use the gadgetry featured on the show to collect evidence and put the bad guys behind bars, sometimes within an hour’s time, like they do on the show.
He said he once asked a nurse who had a piece of jewelry stolen and who demanded CSI-like skills in resolving the case some simple questions that caused her to rethink her demand. “Do you watch ‘Grey’s Anatomy’? Do the nurses and doctors at your hospital go around making out with each other all over the place like they do on that show?” Touché, Detective Lepak, I say.
Of the four classes I did attend, the one I found most interesting was the one focusing on dispatchers. Many people probably don’t think about these people much, I know I didn’t, but they usually are the first people one has contact with when phoning in an emergency. As a result, dispatchers have to be calm, collective, direct to the point and capable of helping the person that made the call, all while informing the correct emergency personnel about the scene they need to go to and what has happened there.
Stevens Point has seven dispatchers who work four 10-hour shifts per week, answering 100,000 calls as a unit. Dispatcher Kim Zvara told the class people often complain dispatchers sound short with them when they call, but said it’s just them being blunt, as they are often dealing with multiple calls and other situations that may be deemed more important.
While in the dispatch center at the Police Department, the two dispatchers received a call from a concerned mother about her two children she couldn’t find. The dispatchers immediately made a number of calls, to officers patrolling the area, and within minutes both children were located, much to the relief of the class participants. For the dispatchers, though, it was just another situation they helped to quickly resolve.
Another interesting class I attended was the one about OWI enforcement. Officer Steven Spath told the class 81 motorists have been cited for OWI in Stevens Point this year, 279 were cited in 2009, 230 in 2008 and 186 in 2007.
Those statistics, he said, would be a lot higher if the Police Department had more personnel to bust the drunk drivers, noting he estimates 80 percent of the people driving on Main and Clark streets in Stevens Point late at night on the weekends are probably over the legal limit. I guess I know where I won’t be driving at those times.
Officer Spath showed the class a video of an actual OWI bust that occurred in Stevens Point several weeks earlier. The culprit was clearly not fit to be driving, despite his best efforts to tell the officer he was.
I also appreciated Officer Spath telling the class Wisconsin’s OWI laws are the most lax in the country and they need to be revamped to make our roads safer. He said someone who is arrested for OWI in this state can be bailed out that night and be on the road again, still drunk, noting he has arrested people two times in one night for OWI.
Throughout the 10-week seminar, class members learned quite a bit of this type of information. Had I been there more, I’m sure my brain would be on overload. Then again had I been there to get tased, my brain may have lost all this information and I wouldn’t have had anything to share.
Crazy 'Lost' recipe made television exciting
The most exciting television show in the history of television, or at least in the years I’ve been watching it, will come to an end Sunday, May 23.
The series finale of “Lost” is set to air on ABC that evening, capping six crazy seasons no other television show has even come close to duplicating, all while retaining a mass audience it should have lost its second episode when it became obvious this show was more about creating questions than answering them.
“Lost,” for those who don’t know, is one part “Gilligan’s Island,” as it focuses on a group of passengers on an airliner who are stranded on an island after it crashes; one part “Land of the Lost” (and not the crappy film version that came out last year), as time travel is frequently involved; one part “Star Trek,” as the science-fiction element of this show often addresses moral subjects, including religion and free will, that the best “Star Trek” shows and films also tackled; one part “Memento,” a film that is nothing but flashbacks, a narrative device “Lost” took one step further with flash-forwards and flash-sideways; and one part LSD or some other hallucinogenic drug, as show creator J.J. Abrams and producers Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse must have ingested a lot of them when they came up with this recipe.
This recipe shouldn’t work.
But it does. And here’s why:
It makes viewers think, unlike 95 percent of the other television shows out there. While shows like “CSI,” “Desperate Housewives,” “American Idol” and “How I Met Your Mother” can be highly entertaining, none of them are challenging. Other than an occasional cliffhanger, each episode of these shows is contained in itself, and all of them follow a set formula that’s kind of ridiculous if you really think about it. “Lost” requires viewers to see every episode, and it thrives on making sure it has no set formula.
“Lost” is a great “water-cooler” show. People who watch it love to talk about it. At my previous job, the day after “Lost” aired, we spent entire breaks talking about it, with each person giving their own theories as to what’s happening on the island. Most of the staff at The Gazette had not watched the show when I arrived here three years ago, but thanks to high praise from the two of us that did and the availability to catch up with the show through DVDs, a few more became fans.
Now, Wednesdays are spent talking about the Tuesday night episode. We’re already looking for potential substitutes now that it’s ending, but ABC’s attempts to create them with “Flashforward” and “V” have been big disappointments.
The cast is nearly perfect. For six years “Lost” has excelled at casting actors and actresses in both main and secondary roles who are the right match for their characters. And it’s not afraid to kill characters off, despite the fact the actor or actress may be a fan favorite. When the show killed Charlie, played by Hobbit Dominic Monaghan, off in the season three finale, I was upset it took him away from us, but at the same time it was a great moment for the show – one that was recreated for this season’s best moment so far. Character comes before actor/actress on “Lost,” a philosophy I wish other shows followed. Seeing Bree die an unexpected death on “Desperate Housewives” could be refreshing for that show, as opposed to the boring death Edie suffered because the actress playing her, Nicole Sheridan, was fired from it.
“Lost” is a great show to watch with someone else. My wife and I have been watching it together since day one. I like to pause the program to talk about events that take place, and sometimes, god-forbid, talk about them as the show is happening, much to her annoyance. But we both like to look at each other’s reaction when big moments occur, and there are a lot of them, to add to the experience. This doesn’t happen with other shows, unless rolling my eyes at the numerous stupid moments in “Bones” counts.
“Lost” will be missed, but a lot hinges on Sunday’s finale because quite a few questions still need answering. If the finale goes out with a whimper, leaving many of those questions unanswered, then getting over the loss of “Lost” might not be so difficult. But if it goes out with a bang, and I’m hoping it does, television programming will have a big void to fill.
The series finale of “Lost” is set to air on ABC that evening, capping six crazy seasons no other television show has even come close to duplicating, all while retaining a mass audience it should have lost its second episode when it became obvious this show was more about creating questions than answering them.
“Lost,” for those who don’t know, is one part “Gilligan’s Island,” as it focuses on a group of passengers on an airliner who are stranded on an island after it crashes; one part “Land of the Lost” (and not the crappy film version that came out last year), as time travel is frequently involved; one part “Star Trek,” as the science-fiction element of this show often addresses moral subjects, including religion and free will, that the best “Star Trek” shows and films also tackled; one part “Memento,” a film that is nothing but flashbacks, a narrative device “Lost” took one step further with flash-forwards and flash-sideways; and one part LSD or some other hallucinogenic drug, as show creator J.J. Abrams and producers Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse must have ingested a lot of them when they came up with this recipe.
This recipe shouldn’t work.
But it does. And here’s why:
It makes viewers think, unlike 95 percent of the other television shows out there. While shows like “CSI,” “Desperate Housewives,” “American Idol” and “How I Met Your Mother” can be highly entertaining, none of them are challenging. Other than an occasional cliffhanger, each episode of these shows is contained in itself, and all of them follow a set formula that’s kind of ridiculous if you really think about it. “Lost” requires viewers to see every episode, and it thrives on making sure it has no set formula.
“Lost” is a great “water-cooler” show. People who watch it love to talk about it. At my previous job, the day after “Lost” aired, we spent entire breaks talking about it, with each person giving their own theories as to what’s happening on the island. Most of the staff at The Gazette had not watched the show when I arrived here three years ago, but thanks to high praise from the two of us that did and the availability to catch up with the show through DVDs, a few more became fans.
Now, Wednesdays are spent talking about the Tuesday night episode. We’re already looking for potential substitutes now that it’s ending, but ABC’s attempts to create them with “Flashforward” and “V” have been big disappointments.
The cast is nearly perfect. For six years “Lost” has excelled at casting actors and actresses in both main and secondary roles who are the right match for their characters. And it’s not afraid to kill characters off, despite the fact the actor or actress may be a fan favorite. When the show killed Charlie, played by Hobbit Dominic Monaghan, off in the season three finale, I was upset it took him away from us, but at the same time it was a great moment for the show – one that was recreated for this season’s best moment so far. Character comes before actor/actress on “Lost,” a philosophy I wish other shows followed. Seeing Bree die an unexpected death on “Desperate Housewives” could be refreshing for that show, as opposed to the boring death Edie suffered because the actress playing her, Nicole Sheridan, was fired from it.
“Lost” is a great show to watch with someone else. My wife and I have been watching it together since day one. I like to pause the program to talk about events that take place, and sometimes, god-forbid, talk about them as the show is happening, much to her annoyance. But we both like to look at each other’s reaction when big moments occur, and there are a lot of them, to add to the experience. This doesn’t happen with other shows, unless rolling my eyes at the numerous stupid moments in “Bones” counts.
“Lost” will be missed, but a lot hinges on Sunday’s finale because quite a few questions still need answering. If the finale goes out with a whimper, leaving many of those questions unanswered, then getting over the loss of “Lost” might not be so difficult. But if it goes out with a bang, and I’m hoping it does, television programming will have a big void to fill.
'May I take your order?' is usually difficult to answer
“Wel… to Mc… May I… your… der.”
No, I’m not writing gibberish, although many people probably think I often do. I’m transcribing what I usually hear coming from the speaker at a number of restaurant drive-thrus.
My father-in-law says it better than I can, though: “They put a man on the moon, and those astronauts could communicate to NASA better than I can with a person just 40 feet away and with 40 years of advances in technology.”
He and I both hate going through drive-thrus, and while we try to avoid them as often as possible, sometimes it’s more convenient, and more amusing, to use them.
Not understanding the person on the other end agitates me, and my agitation usually leads to an unpleasant exchange mostly on my behalf. An example conversation, with the garbled words interpreted to the best of my ability:
“Welcome to (insert name of not-so-good-for-the-diet restaurant here). Would you like to try our (insert menu item here the restaurant is shamelessly promoting to the annoyance of everyone using the drive-thru here)?” the drive-thru attendant asks.
“What? I didn’t understand anything you said. Can I give you my order now?” I’ll say.
“I said, ‘Would you like to try our (item is shamelessly promoted again)?’”
“No thank you. Can I order?”
“We’re ready whenever you are.”
“I’d like a (insert nonnutritional menu item here). And…”
“Would you like it as a meal?”
“If you would have let me finish, I would have told you to make it a meal.”
“Would you like it super-sized?”
“Good god, won’t a regular size lead me to an early grave as it is? No, I don’t want it super-sized.”
“So that’s a no?”
“Yes.”
“So you want it super-sized?”
“No. Regular size please. And…”
“What type of drink would you like with that?”
“Again, if you had let me finish I would have told you I’d like a Coke with it.”
“We don’t have Coke.”
“Then a Pepsi. I don’t care. They practically taste the same.”
“Do you want a diet one?”
“Did I say diet? Just a regular Pepsi.”
“Would you like your meal with regular fries or curly fries?”
“Regular.”
“Excuse me. Could you please repeat that?”
“REGULAR fries. Not curly.”
“One regular size (insert name of meal you ordered here), with a Pepsi and curly fries.”
“I said REGULAR fries, not curly fries.”
“Your order already includes curly fries. Look at your order on the screen. Your total is $6.53. Is your order correct?”
“It’s not correct and I’m not done. I want regular fries. Plus, I have two other people in the car I need to order for. Do you want their business?”
“Your order is $6.53. Please pull forward.”
It’s at that point I pull forward, right out of the drive-thru. Someone else can eat my incorrect food order.
The funniest thing about that conversation is that it’s not exaggerated. My wife can’t stand going through a drive-thru with me, because she knows the conversation is often like this one. In fact, it’s sometimes worse, as my 5-year-old son will often chirp in from the backseat, letting the drive-thru attendant know he’s a kid and he wants a toy with his meal. I try to pipe him down, but that can be difficult when he’s trying to make sure he gets what he wants.
Even funnier is when we go through a coffee drive-thru and I’m trying to relay my wife’s order to the attendant. Since most people are already aware coffee is not simply coffee at these places, I’ll spare the details how I order a fat-free, sugar-free grande white chocolate caramel latte without any cream.
Drive-thru ordering can be fun when I’m in a humorous mood. I once ordered a large breast milk – no offense to breast-feeding mothers – when I was younger and trying to entertain some friends in my car.
My father-in-law has me beat, though. He once covered his mouth and talked like the speaker sounds to him, completely confusing the attendant. I would have loved to hear that one.
No, I’m not writing gibberish, although many people probably think I often do. I’m transcribing what I usually hear coming from the speaker at a number of restaurant drive-thrus.
My father-in-law says it better than I can, though: “They put a man on the moon, and those astronauts could communicate to NASA better than I can with a person just 40 feet away and with 40 years of advances in technology.”
He and I both hate going through drive-thrus, and while we try to avoid them as often as possible, sometimes it’s more convenient, and more amusing, to use them.
Not understanding the person on the other end agitates me, and my agitation usually leads to an unpleasant exchange mostly on my behalf. An example conversation, with the garbled words interpreted to the best of my ability:
“Welcome to (insert name of not-so-good-for-the-diet restaurant here). Would you like to try our (insert menu item here the restaurant is shamelessly promoting to the annoyance of everyone using the drive-thru here)?” the drive-thru attendant asks.
“What? I didn’t understand anything you said. Can I give you my order now?” I’ll say.
“I said, ‘Would you like to try our (item is shamelessly promoted again)?’”
“No thank you. Can I order?”
“We’re ready whenever you are.”
“I’d like a (insert nonnutritional menu item here). And…”
“Would you like it as a meal?”
“If you would have let me finish, I would have told you to make it a meal.”
“Would you like it super-sized?”
“Good god, won’t a regular size lead me to an early grave as it is? No, I don’t want it super-sized.”
“So that’s a no?”
“Yes.”
“So you want it super-sized?”
“No. Regular size please. And…”
“What type of drink would you like with that?”
“Again, if you had let me finish I would have told you I’d like a Coke with it.”
“We don’t have Coke.”
“Then a Pepsi. I don’t care. They practically taste the same.”
“Do you want a diet one?”
“Did I say diet? Just a regular Pepsi.”
“Would you like your meal with regular fries or curly fries?”
“Regular.”
“Excuse me. Could you please repeat that?”
“REGULAR fries. Not curly.”
“One regular size (insert name of meal you ordered here), with a Pepsi and curly fries.”
“I said REGULAR fries, not curly fries.”
“Your order already includes curly fries. Look at your order on the screen. Your total is $6.53. Is your order correct?”
“It’s not correct and I’m not done. I want regular fries. Plus, I have two other people in the car I need to order for. Do you want their business?”
“Your order is $6.53. Please pull forward.”
It’s at that point I pull forward, right out of the drive-thru. Someone else can eat my incorrect food order.
The funniest thing about that conversation is that it’s not exaggerated. My wife can’t stand going through a drive-thru with me, because she knows the conversation is often like this one. In fact, it’s sometimes worse, as my 5-year-old son will often chirp in from the backseat, letting the drive-thru attendant know he’s a kid and he wants a toy with his meal. I try to pipe him down, but that can be difficult when he’s trying to make sure he gets what he wants.
Even funnier is when we go through a coffee drive-thru and I’m trying to relay my wife’s order to the attendant. Since most people are already aware coffee is not simply coffee at these places, I’ll spare the details how I order a fat-free, sugar-free grande white chocolate caramel latte without any cream.
Drive-thru ordering can be fun when I’m in a humorous mood. I once ordered a large breast milk – no offense to breast-feeding mothers – when I was younger and trying to entertain some friends in my car.
My father-in-law has me beat, though. He once covered his mouth and talked like the speaker sounds to him, completely confusing the attendant. I would have loved to hear that one.
Jumps are beneficial to both readers and advertisers
I hope this column doesn’t jump to another page.
It’s very likely it will, though, as our pages just aren’t big enough to contain all the information we at The Gazette like to tell you.
And judging by some of the comments we receive, you’ve definitely noticed our pages aren’t big enough.
“I love your paper, but my only complaint is you have to jump from page to page to read the entire story.”
“Too many jumps.”
“Why don’t you put everything on one page?”
Those are the comments we sometime receive about what we call “jumps” simply because if we can’t fit a story in a given space on a page, we jump it to another page.
Ideally, an 11-inch by 18-inch page should contain enough room for any story, even if it has a picture or two. But by the time ads are placed on a page, as well as small stories and photos that are equally as important as the large stories, the space we have to work with is greatly reduced.
Now, in a perfect newspaper world – which by the way doesn’t exist – we’d have perfect-fitting holes for perfect-fitting stories and jumps wouldn’t be necessary. Unfortunately, it never works that way. The stories are usually too long, or too short, for a given hole, and as a result long stories jump to another page and short stories create a hole that needs to be filled by a jump from another page.
Our layout guy, Brett Hiorns, can fudge with the leading, photo and headline sizes to sometimes fit a story, but his time is limited and quickness is preferred Wednesday night when we’re readying the paper. The printer gets an itch for PDF files at midnight, so it can have the paper ready in the early morning hours on Thursday in order to get it mailed to people by Friday.
As a result, jumps are the norm with The Gazette. And that’s not a bad thing, despite the anti-jump comments we receive.
Why? Prior to the corporatization of many newspapers, jumps were the norm with most newspapers, and for good reason. Because of jumps, the entire story could be told; they weren’t written, or edited, to fit a space. When I read other newspapers, I often think I’m not getting the whole story and that key details are being left out or it’s been written in such a way I only get the bare-bone basics.
At The Gazette, the writers here write until they run out of information to write about. Personally speaking, if I attend an emotional School Board meeting like the one I went to in April following the defeat of the second referendum, and it lasts more than four hours, I’ll take a lot of notes. While I don’t have the time to write about every word that is spoken at the meeting, I’ll make sure my story grabs at the heart of events that transpired at it in order to keep those who were not there informed.
I believe all of our writers – Gene, John, George (a Ringo or Paul would fit nicely here), Jim, Justin, Nick, Bill and all of our contributors – follow this philosophy. They tell the story as it should be told, albeit with a jump or two.
In addition to helping to keep readers better informed, jumps also benefit our advertisers. Because of them, people often look at one page multiple times. Multiple views mean a better chance people will notice any given ad, and since studies have proven people often need to see something three or more times to remember it, an advertiser on a page with jumps should be grateful for such placement.
I understand why people don’t like jumps, though. They can be annoying, especially since we don’t have three hands to navigate them. But, because they help better inform readers, our brains will get bigger, and then through evolution we may be able to grow that third hand.
It’s very likely it will, though, as our pages just aren’t big enough to contain all the information we at The Gazette like to tell you.
And judging by some of the comments we receive, you’ve definitely noticed our pages aren’t big enough.
“I love your paper, but my only complaint is you have to jump from page to page to read the entire story.”
“Too many jumps.”
“Why don’t you put everything on one page?”
Those are the comments we sometime receive about what we call “jumps” simply because if we can’t fit a story in a given space on a page, we jump it to another page.
Ideally, an 11-inch by 18-inch page should contain enough room for any story, even if it has a picture or two. But by the time ads are placed on a page, as well as small stories and photos that are equally as important as the large stories, the space we have to work with is greatly reduced.
Now, in a perfect newspaper world – which by the way doesn’t exist – we’d have perfect-fitting holes for perfect-fitting stories and jumps wouldn’t be necessary. Unfortunately, it never works that way. The stories are usually too long, or too short, for a given hole, and as a result long stories jump to another page and short stories create a hole that needs to be filled by a jump from another page.
Our layout guy, Brett Hiorns, can fudge with the leading, photo and headline sizes to sometimes fit a story, but his time is limited and quickness is preferred Wednesday night when we’re readying the paper. The printer gets an itch for PDF files at midnight, so it can have the paper ready in the early morning hours on Thursday in order to get it mailed to people by Friday.
As a result, jumps are the norm with The Gazette. And that’s not a bad thing, despite the anti-jump comments we receive.
Why? Prior to the corporatization of many newspapers, jumps were the norm with most newspapers, and for good reason. Because of jumps, the entire story could be told; they weren’t written, or edited, to fit a space. When I read other newspapers, I often think I’m not getting the whole story and that key details are being left out or it’s been written in such a way I only get the bare-bone basics.
At The Gazette, the writers here write until they run out of information to write about. Personally speaking, if I attend an emotional School Board meeting like the one I went to in April following the defeat of the second referendum, and it lasts more than four hours, I’ll take a lot of notes. While I don’t have the time to write about every word that is spoken at the meeting, I’ll make sure my story grabs at the heart of events that transpired at it in order to keep those who were not there informed.
I believe all of our writers – Gene, John, George (a Ringo or Paul would fit nicely here), Jim, Justin, Nick, Bill and all of our contributors – follow this philosophy. They tell the story as it should be told, albeit with a jump or two.
In addition to helping to keep readers better informed, jumps also benefit our advertisers. Because of them, people often look at one page multiple times. Multiple views mean a better chance people will notice any given ad, and since studies have proven people often need to see something three or more times to remember it, an advertiser on a page with jumps should be grateful for such placement.
I understand why people don’t like jumps, though. They can be annoying, especially since we don’t have three hands to navigate them. But, because they help better inform readers, our brains will get bigger, and then through evolution we may be able to grow that third hand.
Besides being perfect drink, Bloody Mary makes in-laws fun to be around
At the risk of sounding like an alcoholic, I have to proclaim I love Bloody Marys, so much so that if it was physically acceptable, I’d drink a Bloody Mary with every meal.
That said, I’m perfectly aware of my body’s limitations and the havoc alcohol can do to it, so I limit myself to one Bloody Mary a week. I have this drink in the evening, usually on a Friday or Saturday night, and never at breakfast as the hangover cure it’s meant to be. Maybe if I had more than one in the evening, I’d need one in the morning, but I’m guessing that could start an ugly cycle that could lead to alcoholism.
My Blood Mary is simple. I put a shot of vodka in a cup of ice and then add Mr. T’s Bold and Spicy Bloody Mary Mix. I top it with a dash of celery salt and add a pickle, which I use to stir the drink.
According to the New York School of Bartending, I could add a few more items to perfect my drink, including black pepper, Tabasco, Worcestershire sauce, horseradish and lime juice, but adding all of those flavors seems like too much work. I’m a lazy drinker, not a picky one.
I am picky, though, when it comes to paying for a Bloody Mary at a restaurant, especially when the drink costs between $4 and $7. When my wife and I eat out, I’ll ask the waiter or waitress if the venue’s Bloody Marys are any good. In most cases, if the restaurant has them, the person I ask will always answer affirmatively.
Whether or not I order one depends completely on how affirmative that person is with his or her response. An enthusiastic and descriptive answer tells me this person has tasted the bartender’s Bloody Mary and he or she truly likes it. A less eager response usually means the waiter or waitress isn’t telling me the truth or that he or she has never tried it.
While I’ve had plenty of decent Bloody Marys out on the town, I’ve had my share of bad ones. Some simply taste like tomato juice and vodka combined, a blah mixture, and others are so spicy my mouth explodes more than that volcano in Iceland. People traveling in and out at the Central Wisconsin Airport in Mosinee better hope their flights don’t get grounded after I drink one of those spicy ones.
A restaurant usually serves a Bloody Mary worth my money when it comes with a multitude of garnishes such as celery, olives, carrots and mushrooms, as well as a beer chaser. I’m usually not a fan of the beer chaser, but when I’m paying more than $5 I want to make sure I get the most for my money.
Surprisingly, I’ve never been to a Sunday morning Bloody Mary bar some venues host. I’d love to try it sometime, but I’m scared I’ll like it too much, so much in fact that such a bar would ruin the Bloody Mary experience I have at home. Why would I drink a Pinto-version when I can have the Cadillac of Bloody Marys?
My love for the drink developed because of my in-laws’ extended family. At their family gatherings, the preferred drink amongst the group is the Bloody Mary. I had the drink a few times before becoming a part of the family, but it wasn’t a drink that stood out in my mind. After they served the drink to me on several different occasions, I realized I looked forward to the gatherings because of it. If the drink wasn’t available, I often left disappointed.
Since I can honestly say I like getting together with my in-laws’ family, an accomplishment many married people would say is impossible, it is safe to say the Bloody Mary serves a much more important purpose than supposedly serving as a hangover cure. It makes in-laws fun to be around.
Without going overboard, maybe more people should try one when getting together with the in-laws. And then there will be one less problem in the world people need to worry about.
That said, I’m perfectly aware of my body’s limitations and the havoc alcohol can do to it, so I limit myself to one Bloody Mary a week. I have this drink in the evening, usually on a Friday or Saturday night, and never at breakfast as the hangover cure it’s meant to be. Maybe if I had more than one in the evening, I’d need one in the morning, but I’m guessing that could start an ugly cycle that could lead to alcoholism.
My Blood Mary is simple. I put a shot of vodka in a cup of ice and then add Mr. T’s Bold and Spicy Bloody Mary Mix. I top it with a dash of celery salt and add a pickle, which I use to stir the drink.
According to the New York School of Bartending, I could add a few more items to perfect my drink, including black pepper, Tabasco, Worcestershire sauce, horseradish and lime juice, but adding all of those flavors seems like too much work. I’m a lazy drinker, not a picky one.
I am picky, though, when it comes to paying for a Bloody Mary at a restaurant, especially when the drink costs between $4 and $7. When my wife and I eat out, I’ll ask the waiter or waitress if the venue’s Bloody Marys are any good. In most cases, if the restaurant has them, the person I ask will always answer affirmatively.
Whether or not I order one depends completely on how affirmative that person is with his or her response. An enthusiastic and descriptive answer tells me this person has tasted the bartender’s Bloody Mary and he or she truly likes it. A less eager response usually means the waiter or waitress isn’t telling me the truth or that he or she has never tried it.
While I’ve had plenty of decent Bloody Marys out on the town, I’ve had my share of bad ones. Some simply taste like tomato juice and vodka combined, a blah mixture, and others are so spicy my mouth explodes more than that volcano in Iceland. People traveling in and out at the Central Wisconsin Airport in Mosinee better hope their flights don’t get grounded after I drink one of those spicy ones.
A restaurant usually serves a Bloody Mary worth my money when it comes with a multitude of garnishes such as celery, olives, carrots and mushrooms, as well as a beer chaser. I’m usually not a fan of the beer chaser, but when I’m paying more than $5 I want to make sure I get the most for my money.
Surprisingly, I’ve never been to a Sunday morning Bloody Mary bar some venues host. I’d love to try it sometime, but I’m scared I’ll like it too much, so much in fact that such a bar would ruin the Bloody Mary experience I have at home. Why would I drink a Pinto-version when I can have the Cadillac of Bloody Marys?
My love for the drink developed because of my in-laws’ extended family. At their family gatherings, the preferred drink amongst the group is the Bloody Mary. I had the drink a few times before becoming a part of the family, but it wasn’t a drink that stood out in my mind. After they served the drink to me on several different occasions, I realized I looked forward to the gatherings because of it. If the drink wasn’t available, I often left disappointed.
Since I can honestly say I like getting together with my in-laws’ family, an accomplishment many married people would say is impossible, it is safe to say the Bloody Mary serves a much more important purpose than supposedly serving as a hangover cure. It makes in-laws fun to be around.
Without going overboard, maybe more people should try one when getting together with the in-laws. And then there will be one less problem in the world people need to worry about.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)