Here's as close as I ever got to Walter Cronkite:
In the winter of 1976, my class at Syracuse University went to New Hampshire to cover the Presidential primary. We stayed at a hotel in Concord. As I recall, the place was nothing special as hotels go -- but it must have been convenient and universally used. I believe R.W. Apple of the New York Times stayed there.
But it did have a new-fangled invention in the lobby -- a coin-operated video game.
At some point shortly after the primary, I read an account of the primary. Some reporter wrote that the biggest laugh of his time in New Hampshire came in that very lobby, when he saw Cronkite look at his watch and say with quite a bit of enthusiasm, "I think we've got time for one more game of Tank!" And in the quarters went.
You'll hear the cliche "they don't make them like that any more" in the coming days, and it's certainly true. If Edward R. Murrow helped create radio news, Cronkite brought the electronic news business fully into the television era. The coverage of the Kennedy assassination and funeral really united the nation at that sad time. He became a giant in his field, to the point where CBS deserves major demerits for not using him more often after he left the Evening News.
Wiser people than I will be commenting on Cronkite's legacy, and I'll leave most of that to them. But not quite all of it.
Cronkite was at the height of his influence in the Seventies, when about the only place to get national news on TV was at 6:30. He brought a ton of experience to the table every night, starting with a job with the wire service UPI before moving on to CBS. Cronkite knew his craft.
It's interesting to note in hindsight how little talk there was about "bias" in the media back then. Everyone accepted the fact that news people really could compile a story and present the facts in a logical manner. Oh, there were suspicions that Cronkite leaned to the left, suspicions that were more or less confirmed when he wrote a book after retirement. And, it was admittedly a more innocent and less partisan time. Even so, Cronkite was believed when he came on the air.
What's more, he was a strong advocate of a "hard news" approach. I'm sure he wasn't happy about the trend toward "info-tainment" in the news business over the last several years.
I found it a little sad, then, to go dial-hopping Friday night to see how the story was reported. CNN had a graphic that said, "Breaking News: Cronkite dead." MSNBC and Fox had a similar look. Then on CNN Headline News, the graphic under Nancy Grace read something to the effect: "Breaking News: Michael Jackson may have used different names to obtain prescriptions."
Sigh.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Words matter
I thought about writing something Sarah Palin's curious decision to resign as Governor of Alaska. Then Peggy Noonan came along today with this column from the Wall Street Journal.
It's a pretty thoughtful bit of writing, as usual. I don't always agree with what Noonan has to say, but she usually makes a good case. In this instance, I'm not sure I buy the line about the left and the media overplaying their hand with attacks on Palin's children. I don't think of either of those institutions as monoliths, and most of the criticism I heard was about some conservatives' reaction to the news about Palin's teen daughter (as in, good for her for having the baby rather than criticizing premarital sex).
Even so, Noonan does mention in passing the problem that Palin has had in expressing principles and opinions about the state of the world. That raises an interesting question.
When was the last time the Republican Party had a Presidential candidate that you would drive a good-sized distance to hear speak?
I would submit it was Ronald Reagan in 1984. Let's look at what we've had since then. George Bush ran in 1988 and 1992. Dana Carvey's impression was a show-biz version of Bush's speaking style, but it's fair to say Bush rarely inspired. If you've ever read a text of a Bob Dole speech from 1996, you know how badly he could come across. George W. Bush's problems with the language are well-known. John McCain wasn't too bad when he was shooting straight early in the campaign, but he did become a little programmed and less interesting later on.
The two best speakers the Democrats have offered in that time period are Barack Obama, who clearly knows how to put together a sentence, and Bill Clinton, whose brainpower usually was on display when he talked. Clearly the Democrats weren't overloaded with speechmaking talents in the past quarter-century. John Kerry, Al Gore and Michael Dukakis were not exactly William Jennings Bryan when it comes to speech-making. Without that edge, they might not ever have won an election.
There has been plenty of talk about how the Republican Party has to come up with some new ideas (most of this talk has come from the center and left, of course). There's always another side of the story that can be told. I'm starting to think that the identity of the party's leadership may come down to who is doing the telling.
If the Republicans can find someone out there who can express a proposed direction for the party and the country, he or she just might be able to grab the nomination for President in 2012. My guess is that such a person is operating under the radar at the present time, which means he or she is not named Romney, Huckabee or Palin.
That person will have a chance to "invent" himself or herself right before our eyes. Palin did that and did that badly in 2008, and she is almost certainly not going to be able to change the image she first projected as something of a lightweight. If you want to know what a burden that image can be, ask what Dan Quayle is up to these days.
It's a pretty thoughtful bit of writing, as usual. I don't always agree with what Noonan has to say, but she usually makes a good case. In this instance, I'm not sure I buy the line about the left and the media overplaying their hand with attacks on Palin's children. I don't think of either of those institutions as monoliths, and most of the criticism I heard was about some conservatives' reaction to the news about Palin's teen daughter (as in, good for her for having the baby rather than criticizing premarital sex).
Even so, Noonan does mention in passing the problem that Palin has had in expressing principles and opinions about the state of the world. That raises an interesting question.
When was the last time the Republican Party had a Presidential candidate that you would drive a good-sized distance to hear speak?
I would submit it was Ronald Reagan in 1984. Let's look at what we've had since then. George Bush ran in 1988 and 1992. Dana Carvey's impression was a show-biz version of Bush's speaking style, but it's fair to say Bush rarely inspired. If you've ever read a text of a Bob Dole speech from 1996, you know how badly he could come across. George W. Bush's problems with the language are well-known. John McCain wasn't too bad when he was shooting straight early in the campaign, but he did become a little programmed and less interesting later on.
The two best speakers the Democrats have offered in that time period are Barack Obama, who clearly knows how to put together a sentence, and Bill Clinton, whose brainpower usually was on display when he talked. Clearly the Democrats weren't overloaded with speechmaking talents in the past quarter-century. John Kerry, Al Gore and Michael Dukakis were not exactly William Jennings Bryan when it comes to speech-making. Without that edge, they might not ever have won an election.
There has been plenty of talk about how the Republican Party has to come up with some new ideas (most of this talk has come from the center and left, of course). There's always another side of the story that can be told. I'm starting to think that the identity of the party's leadership may come down to who is doing the telling.
If the Republicans can find someone out there who can express a proposed direction for the party and the country, he or she just might be able to grab the nomination for President in 2012. My guess is that such a person is operating under the radar at the present time, which means he or she is not named Romney, Huckabee or Palin.
That person will have a chance to "invent" himself or herself right before our eyes. Palin did that and did that badly in 2008, and she is almost certainly not going to be able to change the image she first projected as something of a lightweight. If you want to know what a burden that image can be, ask what Dan Quayle is up to these days.
Wednesday, July 08, 2009
Golf rules question
On this fine summer day in Buffalo, I decided to take a little time on my day off to head to the local par-3 golf course for nine holes of practice. I went by myself and hoped to zip around the course quickly.
By the second hole, I realized those thoughts weren't going to work. I was behind two women who obviously hadn't played much. Therefore, the next couple of holes I got to see the old "hit the ball 30 yards, walk up to it, and hit it again" routine. One did have a little more skill than the other, for what it was worth. You could tell the lesser player's inexperience by the way she would leave her clubs 25 yards down the fairway when she got the ball on the green, forcing her to walk back and get them after completing the hole. Heck, we all have to learn sometime, and a pitch-and-putt course is a good place to do it.
The women were on the fourth tee when I was finishing up the third hole. The lesser player, I'm pretty sure, had just hit a grounder of about 20 yards, and decided to hit another ball. By this time, I had finished on No. 3 and walked up behind the fourth tee. Our heroine got a hold of the ball for once, sending it down the middle. The ball took a couple of bounces and rolled on to the green. Then we all heard the distinctive sound of ball hitting flagstick, and then the ball was nowhere to be seen -- and we had a pretty good view of the green.
The golfer had to be talked into waiting for her friend to hit before running up the fairway. I stayed back on the tee, and watched the two get to the green. Yes, the ball was in the cup. Much hugging followed.
The question, then, is -- what was the woman's actual score for the hole?
A. One
B. Two
C. Three
D. She's disqualified
I told the woman on the fifth tee that it was clearly time to give up golf, because this game had become too easy for her.
By the second hole, I realized those thoughts weren't going to work. I was behind two women who obviously hadn't played much. Therefore, the next couple of holes I got to see the old "hit the ball 30 yards, walk up to it, and hit it again" routine. One did have a little more skill than the other, for what it was worth. You could tell the lesser player's inexperience by the way she would leave her clubs 25 yards down the fairway when she got the ball on the green, forcing her to walk back and get them after completing the hole. Heck, we all have to learn sometime, and a pitch-and-putt course is a good place to do it.
The women were on the fourth tee when I was finishing up the third hole. The lesser player, I'm pretty sure, had just hit a grounder of about 20 yards, and decided to hit another ball. By this time, I had finished on No. 3 and walked up behind the fourth tee. Our heroine got a hold of the ball for once, sending it down the middle. The ball took a couple of bounces and rolled on to the green. Then we all heard the distinctive sound of ball hitting flagstick, and then the ball was nowhere to be seen -- and we had a pretty good view of the green.
The golfer had to be talked into waiting for her friend to hit before running up the fairway. I stayed back on the tee, and watched the two get to the green. Yes, the ball was in the cup. Much hugging followed.
The question, then, is -- what was the woman's actual score for the hole?
A. One
B. Two
C. Three
D. She's disqualified
I told the woman on the fifth tee that it was clearly time to give up golf, because this game had become too easy for her.
Tuesday, July 07, 2009
American idols
Think all this stuff about heroes and role models is easy? Think again.
The curious case of Steve McNair raises all sorts of difficult questions along these lines. I just wonder how many others are wrestling with them.
As you no doubt know, McNair was murdered in Nashville on Saturday. A 20-year-old woman also died in the incident. The police there haven't ruled it one of those murder/suicide cases, but there's plenty of alleged evidence that seem to be pointing in that direction.
When word of McNair's death first came out, sports columnists rushed to pay tribute to him and his football career. The word that was most often used to describe his playing days was "warrior." He took a lot of hits during a long career, and always came back for more. McNair was a very good quarterback by any standard.
In addition, he was, by any definition, a prince in the community. The man personally loaded packages on to trucks that were headed to help the victims of Katrina in the Gulf region. McNair won several awards for his community work.
But, and this is a big but, McNair allegedly was having an affair with the 20-year-old woman in question. No one deserves to have this sort of fate after engaging in that sort of risky behavior, but the end result is a wife whose life has been absolutely shattered -- can she ever believe in anything again? -- and four children who will grow up without their father.
Some followers of this situation are comparmentalizing McNair's behavior, no doubt in different ways. Some will choose to remember McNair only for his good deeds and play, perhaps remembering the phrase that starts, "He who is without sin..." Others won't be so sympathic. I've seen both sides represented on Internet message boards, and they aren't happy with each other.
That "split decision" also applies to someone like Michael Jackson. His music thrilled millions, yet his behavior with children was sometimes inappropriate and revelations about his abuse of prescription drugs continue to come out now. And just to complicate matters, I got a lesson in perspective about Jackson from one of our college interns. He has little idea what all of the fuss is about Jackson's music, having not lived through it, but he knows all about the other stuff and is a little horrified by the reaction to Jackson's death.
And still, those looking for perfection in role models are going to have a long search. We expect family and personal friends to have flaws, sometimes major ones; why should celebrities be any different?
No doubt about it -- anyone thinking about putting up a poster of a celebrity on the wall has got some difficult decisions ahead.
The curious case of Steve McNair raises all sorts of difficult questions along these lines. I just wonder how many others are wrestling with them.
As you no doubt know, McNair was murdered in Nashville on Saturday. A 20-year-old woman also died in the incident. The police there haven't ruled it one of those murder/suicide cases, but there's plenty of alleged evidence that seem to be pointing in that direction.
When word of McNair's death first came out, sports columnists rushed to pay tribute to him and his football career. The word that was most often used to describe his playing days was "warrior." He took a lot of hits during a long career, and always came back for more. McNair was a very good quarterback by any standard.
In addition, he was, by any definition, a prince in the community. The man personally loaded packages on to trucks that were headed to help the victims of Katrina in the Gulf region. McNair won several awards for his community work.
But, and this is a big but, McNair allegedly was having an affair with the 20-year-old woman in question. No one deserves to have this sort of fate after engaging in that sort of risky behavior, but the end result is a wife whose life has been absolutely shattered -- can she ever believe in anything again? -- and four children who will grow up without their father.
Some followers of this situation are comparmentalizing McNair's behavior, no doubt in different ways. Some will choose to remember McNair only for his good deeds and play, perhaps remembering the phrase that starts, "He who is without sin..." Others won't be so sympathic. I've seen both sides represented on Internet message boards, and they aren't happy with each other.
That "split decision" also applies to someone like Michael Jackson. His music thrilled millions, yet his behavior with children was sometimes inappropriate and revelations about his abuse of prescription drugs continue to come out now. And just to complicate matters, I got a lesson in perspective about Jackson from one of our college interns. He has little idea what all of the fuss is about Jackson's music, having not lived through it, but he knows all about the other stuff and is a little horrified by the reaction to Jackson's death.
And still, those looking for perfection in role models are going to have a long search. We expect family and personal friends to have flaws, sometimes major ones; why should celebrities be any different?
No doubt about it -- anyone thinking about putting up a poster of a celebrity on the wall has got some difficult decisions ahead.
Saturday, July 04, 2009
Getting younger by the moment
Had to share this back of a 1964 baseball card, brought to life on the blog of Keith Olbermann of MSNBC:
Bennett apparently did find the Fountain of Youth.
Bennett apparently did find the Fountain of Youth.
Friday, July 03, 2009
Past or present
Let's talk about the concept of the aging rock musician.
Back in the 1960's and 1970's, we never really thought about acts that would be playing 30 and 40 years in the future. We all sort of figured once a band had its moment or two, it would slowly disappear into the mist. Las Vegas? Hah.
Clearly, that was wrong. Take a look at the concert listings these days and it's an exercise in nostalgia. I saw America listed as playing a free show at Artpark in Lewiston last week. I saw that band perform at the Syracuse state fairgrounds in September of 1975, along with the Beach Boys, the Doobie Brothers, and Jefferson Starship, New Riders of the Purple Sage, and the Stanky Brown group.
The aging process for musicians, though, is full of trap doors. Yes, a band can play the same songs over and over again to baby boomers and make a decent living in the process. It can also try to stay relevant by writing and recording new songs -- no easy task with shifting audience tastes. "Hope I die before I get old," indeed.
Which brings us to Todd Rundgren's show in Buffalo on Wednesday night.
Rundgren had a bunch of hits in the Seventies. He's been a producer for some top acts over the years, and is still churning out new music. Good for him.
However, he played for two hours on Wednesday. Care to guess how many songs I had heard before? One, "Real Man." No "Can We Still Be Friends?", no "Hello, It's Me," no "Road to Utopia." And so on. What's more, the music Rundgren offered was pretty loud. The man can play an electric guitar, but his songs have a different style than they did 35 years ago.
Two moments from previous concerts came back to me during the course of the night. One was Billy Joel, who at some point once said during a show when he was about to play a new song, "I know you are saying, 'Yeah, that's cool, but what about the old stuff?' Don't worry, we have it all timed for maximum effect." And then there was the time the Who played a show consisting of Quadrophenia and a handful of other hits. It sure felt like an exercise in cashing in on old popularity and nothing more.
I heard from two other people around my age at the Rundgren show. One was impressed by his virtuosity with the guitar. The other had enough of unfamiliar, loud songs and a crowded hot club, and walked out early.
It's not easy to keep everyone happy, and it sure is tough to find that middle ground. I wouldn't want to be stuck playing "Nights in White Satin" 150 times a year in order to pay the bills, as members of the Moody Blues are no doubt doing. But I wouldn't want to turn my back on my most productive and popular period either.
Maybe that's one of the reasons why Bruce Springsteen has my admiration and respect in such matters. Yes, he has to play "Badlands" and "Born to Run" at every show with the E Street Band, but he also is writing new music and tries to mix up the set list as much as possible. Springsteen even played "Pretty Woman" Thursday night in Munich as a request.
Todd, I appreciate your efforts to grow. But don't forget what got us there, either.
Back in the 1960's and 1970's, we never really thought about acts that would be playing 30 and 40 years in the future. We all sort of figured once a band had its moment or two, it would slowly disappear into the mist. Las Vegas? Hah.
Clearly, that was wrong. Take a look at the concert listings these days and it's an exercise in nostalgia. I saw America listed as playing a free show at Artpark in Lewiston last week. I saw that band perform at the Syracuse state fairgrounds in September of 1975, along with the Beach Boys, the Doobie Brothers, and Jefferson Starship, New Riders of the Purple Sage, and the Stanky Brown group.
The aging process for musicians, though, is full of trap doors. Yes, a band can play the same songs over and over again to baby boomers and make a decent living in the process. It can also try to stay relevant by writing and recording new songs -- no easy task with shifting audience tastes. "Hope I die before I get old," indeed.
Which brings us to Todd Rundgren's show in Buffalo on Wednesday night.
Rundgren had a bunch of hits in the Seventies. He's been a producer for some top acts over the years, and is still churning out new music. Good for him.
However, he played for two hours on Wednesday. Care to guess how many songs I had heard before? One, "Real Man." No "Can We Still Be Friends?", no "Hello, It's Me," no "Road to Utopia." And so on. What's more, the music Rundgren offered was pretty loud. The man can play an electric guitar, but his songs have a different style than they did 35 years ago.
Two moments from previous concerts came back to me during the course of the night. One was Billy Joel, who at some point once said during a show when he was about to play a new song, "I know you are saying, 'Yeah, that's cool, but what about the old stuff?' Don't worry, we have it all timed for maximum effect." And then there was the time the Who played a show consisting of Quadrophenia and a handful of other hits. It sure felt like an exercise in cashing in on old popularity and nothing more.
I heard from two other people around my age at the Rundgren show. One was impressed by his virtuosity with the guitar. The other had enough of unfamiliar, loud songs and a crowded hot club, and walked out early.
It's not easy to keep everyone happy, and it sure is tough to find that middle ground. I wouldn't want to be stuck playing "Nights in White Satin" 150 times a year in order to pay the bills, as members of the Moody Blues are no doubt doing. But I wouldn't want to turn my back on my most productive and popular period either.
Maybe that's one of the reasons why Bruce Springsteen has my admiration and respect in such matters. Yes, he has to play "Badlands" and "Born to Run" at every show with the E Street Band, but he also is writing new music and tries to mix up the set list as much as possible. Springsteen even played "Pretty Woman" Thursday night in Munich as a request.
Todd, I appreciate your efforts to grow. But don't forget what got us there, either.
Thursday, July 02, 2009
A century of progress
Co-worker Mary Kunz Goldman made an interesting point in her blog today. (Note: this in itself is not noteworthy.) It prompted a comment from me on her site, but the more I thought about it the more I realized it deserved more than that.
After mentioning that Jackson's newer material hadn't been heard on the radio much lately, she writes, "I have also not heard 'Beat It' for years. Or 'Billie Jean.' Which makes me think: They will not be listening to these songs in 100 years. Sorry."
I think that's a safe guess, but not for the expected reasons.
One hundred years ago, we were going through something of a transition in the music business. For generations, music was passed along in two ways -- through the composer and/or live performer (sometimes the same person). The composer would sit down and write something, and it would be performed somewhere else. The good stuff -- let's include material by people like Bach and Mozart, for example -- survived. So, if you had a dinner party, you'd pick up the sheet music, get someone to play the piano, and you'd have your post-food entertainment. Or, you'd go to a concert hall and hear someone perform some songs in front of a few hundred people.
What was the music that stood the test of time back then? The "classical" stuff, obviously. Some Broadway-type musicals could be carted around the country easily enough and performed. And then there was folk music. The number one song on July 1, 1909, was "Shine On, Harvest Moon," which was part of the Ziegfeld Follies, so I guess it fits into the musical category.
But change was on the way. The Victrola was just coming into its own as a consumer good in 1909. Suddenly, a performance could be captured for posterity. Singers and musicians could pick up fans in a great hurry.
Think about what's happened to music technology in those 100 years. People used to listen to a song at a time on 78's, which eventually led to 33's (more music by one artist without the listener getting up to change albums), which led to cassette players, which led, sort of, to 8-tracks (oops), which led to compact disks, which led to iTunes and the whole digital revolution. We've gone from record needles to computer chips in my lifetime alone. Then there's the issue of amplification, which means that hockey rinks and football stadiums can be filled with sound. Thousands can share the same musical experience instead of just those within the sound of the voice or instrument.
Meanwhile, the music itself (just ponder electric guitars and synthesizers) and the people who play it have changed in that time too. My guess is that the singers were mostly on the generic side until the 1940's, when particular bands and singers became closely associated with certain songs. In other words, you could draw a line from Frank Sinatra (who became the first star as we define it now) to Elvis Presley (who capitalized on the rise of the rock and roll) to the Beatles (singers who could write great songs) to, yes, Michael Jackson, a crossover artist who made us one nation under the same groove for a few years.
Jackson was one of the last artists who made Top Forty music matter back in the early 1980's. After that, the music business fractured and you could no longer drive down the Thruway hearing the same song on every station from town to town any more. How many artists can fill a stadium for a concert any more? Music is still finding an audience, of course, but the hip-hop crowd looks a lot different than the country crowd, and so on down the line, and there's isn't much mixing.
Which gets us back to Mary's point. We'll still be listening to some of today's music in 100 years, because we'll be able to do so. Sinatra will make some swoon. The Beatles will always leave listeners admiring their artistry. And Jackson will be around when people want to dance. But mostly, the people of the next 100 years will be listening to their own fresh music, reflecting their own times and delivered to their ears in ways that we can't begin to imagine.
And I kind of like that idea. Hope I'm around to hear as much of it as possible.
After mentioning that Jackson's newer material hadn't been heard on the radio much lately, she writes, "I have also not heard 'Beat It' for years. Or 'Billie Jean.' Which makes me think: They will not be listening to these songs in 100 years. Sorry."
I think that's a safe guess, but not for the expected reasons.
One hundred years ago, we were going through something of a transition in the music business. For generations, music was passed along in two ways -- through the composer and/or live performer (sometimes the same person). The composer would sit down and write something, and it would be performed somewhere else. The good stuff -- let's include material by people like Bach and Mozart, for example -- survived. So, if you had a dinner party, you'd pick up the sheet music, get someone to play the piano, and you'd have your post-food entertainment. Or, you'd go to a concert hall and hear someone perform some songs in front of a few hundred people.
What was the music that stood the test of time back then? The "classical" stuff, obviously. Some Broadway-type musicals could be carted around the country easily enough and performed. And then there was folk music. The number one song on July 1, 1909, was "Shine On, Harvest Moon," which was part of the Ziegfeld Follies, so I guess it fits into the musical category.
But change was on the way. The Victrola was just coming into its own as a consumer good in 1909. Suddenly, a performance could be captured for posterity. Singers and musicians could pick up fans in a great hurry.
Think about what's happened to music technology in those 100 years. People used to listen to a song at a time on 78's, which eventually led to 33's (more music by one artist without the listener getting up to change albums), which led to cassette players, which led, sort of, to 8-tracks (oops), which led to compact disks, which led to iTunes and the whole digital revolution. We've gone from record needles to computer chips in my lifetime alone. Then there's the issue of amplification, which means that hockey rinks and football stadiums can be filled with sound. Thousands can share the same musical experience instead of just those within the sound of the voice or instrument.
Meanwhile, the music itself (just ponder electric guitars and synthesizers) and the people who play it have changed in that time too. My guess is that the singers were mostly on the generic side until the 1940's, when particular bands and singers became closely associated with certain songs. In other words, you could draw a line from Frank Sinatra (who became the first star as we define it now) to Elvis Presley (who capitalized on the rise of the rock and roll) to the Beatles (singers who could write great songs) to, yes, Michael Jackson, a crossover artist who made us one nation under the same groove for a few years.
Jackson was one of the last artists who made Top Forty music matter back in the early 1980's. After that, the music business fractured and you could no longer drive down the Thruway hearing the same song on every station from town to town any more. How many artists can fill a stadium for a concert any more? Music is still finding an audience, of course, but the hip-hop crowd looks a lot different than the country crowd, and so on down the line, and there's isn't much mixing.
Which gets us back to Mary's point. We'll still be listening to some of today's music in 100 years, because we'll be able to do so. Sinatra will make some swoon. The Beatles will always leave listeners admiring their artistry. And Jackson will be around when people want to dance. But mostly, the people of the next 100 years will be listening to their own fresh music, reflecting their own times and delivered to their ears in ways that we can't begin to imagine.
And I kind of like that idea. Hope I'm around to hear as much of it as possible.
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