Don't shoot the messenger: Why Hydrant-gate beat out the Seattle police killings

Note: This post first appeared as my article at Linking Indiana.  I understand since the time of its original posting some of the circumstances regarding the Tiger Woods story have changed; I have no interest in researching them to update this post.

It was one of the "deadliest days in US law enforcement history."  It really did read like something out of an old Western movie: An outlaw, out after being given a second chance in another state by a prominent political figure, walks into an eating establishment, and guns down four police officers before getting away.  Eventually, this sets up a climactic scene in which a lone officer catches up to the fugitive, and shoots and kills him.

This actually happened in Seattle over the last five days, but you are about three times more likely to know more about the rumors surrounding the nation's highest-paid athlete's alleged indiscretions and wayward driving.

At first I thought it was just the circles I run in that made the Tiger Woods Hydrantgate episode ubiquitous.  I follow a lot of PR people on Twitter and the blogosphere.  Tiger's troubles, if nothing else, are a case study in poor PR management.  Then I did a simple Google news search: As of Tuesday afternoon, when both stories were reaching their climax, "Tiger Woods accident" yielded 14,669 stories, "Seattle police shooting," 5,122.

More instructive: "Tiger Woods mistress" appeared as a form-fill option after typing just the first three letters of the phrase ("Tig").  Think about all the possible search queries that could be launched using the first three letters, "Tig."  Google is so sure you're trying to search for information about Tiger's - ahem - "tail," it rules out all of them in half a second.

In college, we learned about something called the "agenda-setting" function of media.  That is, news professionals have a great responsibility because they decide what is important enough to make it in their newscasts/paper/Web site, etc. I wasn't in college too long ago, and I was in the news business for four years after, but Hydrant-gate's outshining of the Seattle police shootings shows us that several factors are already whittling this big stick of journalism down to a nub. And it's not entirely the media's fault it seemingly focuses on sex and celebrities at the expense of more compelling stories.

First, there is the need to fill 24-hour news channels with content.  How discerning can a producer really be if they are required to deliver "news" when there just isn't much happening? Some celebrity will always be doing something stupid somewhere. Content problem solved.

Secondly, we must account for the good and the bad in the rise of social media.  Sites like Twitter allow people to report their experiences in newsworthy events via first-hand, real-time accounts.  A major trending topic on Twitter replaces both the agenda-setting role of journalists and the journalists themselves.  We saw this on full display in the aftermath of the Iranian elections, when reporters were unable to capture the events in Tehran.

But not everything discussed on social media sites should make the news.  A topic's popularity among an audience is certainly a criterion for its newsworthiness, but not the only criterion.  Many traditional journalists still seem largely behind the curve in leveraging social media tools, and seem to be over-compensating by elevating traditionally non-news items they find there to appear savvy.

While many people would say a third factor is the overall decline of journalistic standards (I've done my part to argue this, too), it's more helpful to remember that news in 2009 America is very much a consumer-focused commodity.  The news delivered through many outlets is as market-tested, research-driven, and consultant-controlled as any soft drink on the grocer's shelf.  More than ever before, increased competition is forcing news outlets to find what will attract that first few seconds of attention from viewers/readers/listeners, and developing their products around it.  The disproportionate emphasis on attention-grabbing many times makes for shallow stories and even shallower anchors.

All this is means news organizations are starting to act more like advertising agencies.  They are more and more in the business of marketing, which is largely based on an appeal to the emotions.  This is a departure from how we normally think of news, that is, a largely intellectual and informative entity. 

There's a backhanded compliment in there: We drive the news, sure, but that means what's on the news is there because they know we'll watch it.  So the next time we see one of the ubiquitous blonde anchorettes on TV (seriously, is it just me who thinks they must have a machine in the back that produces these people?) deliver all the news except that which is fit to print, we shouldn't be too quick to shoot the messenger.  After all, we had a major hand in sending her.

Thankful for perspective

This time of year, everyone likes to engage in a ritualistic counting of blessings, and many bloggers like me try to write a meaningful piece about being thankful.

Neither of these are necessarily insincere, but both seem to smack of cliche and lack perspective from time to time.

My employer recently began accepting applications for a sales position.  (If you have sales experience and could bear the thought of me as a co-worker, by all means let me know.)  Filling these kinds of positions usually takes the same pattern of events: An opening announcement is made in various locations, and the resumes begin flowing.  Then the screening process begins.

Our company tries to find out as much as possible about applicants seeking employment, a task made easier by this era of online profiles and internet searches.  (It did with me.)  Last week, our recruiter performed an internet search for one particularly promising applicant - looking for a LinkedIn profile, or the like - and was taken aback by the first story that led the search results.

It was his obituary.  This young man applied at my company on Monday, and was killed in a car accident on Tuesday.  He was 26 years old.

When we learned of this, a couple of my colleagues and I responded with the usual cliche, "Wow.  You just don't know, do you?"  It was all we could think to utter.  I'm not sure why it affected me the way it did; I never knew the guy, obviously.  Perhaps it was a jolt that reminded me there is much we plan in this world and much we strive for that, in the end, doesn't matter all that much compared with what we already have.

This really is not intended to be a pre-holidays guilt trip or buzz kill, but it is worth noting that many people will have trouble giving thanks at all this time of year.  It will be perfectly understandable for some, like that young man's family who just eight days ago never dreamed there would be an extra spot at the Thanksgiving table.  Others, it seems, may lack perspective on just what gifts they've been afforded.

Hopefully we can all gain a little perspective from the loss of a potential co-worker I never knew.  The holidays bring a certain amount of "normal" stress - scheduling, traveling, entertaining, etc. - but it seems many of us have it much better than we'd like to admit.  What's the point of wasting so much emotional energy over seeing family and friends, when many do not have the same number of family and friends to see?

This post may not satisfy the cliche-free criterion I was striving for, but we all need a reminder here and there of what's real and what's...real.

You feel me?



AF

Tom Brady goes to Heaven

Allow me to share a slightly embellished version of a story passed along by a business associate:

After a long and successful NFL career, and a relatively disappointing post-football stint as Mach 3 razor spokesmodel, Tom Brady passed on and went to Heaven.

At first, Tom was frightened to appear before the Heavenly Father.  Had he been a good steward of his talents?  Had he reached his potential?

Sensing Tom's unease, God put His arm around him.  "Relax, Tom," God said.  "You've done well with what I've given you.  Three Super Bowls, a touchdown passing record - well done.  Behold what I have for you."

God gestured over to a beautiful 2-story brick home.  It had drab navy blue shudders with the trademark Patriots head engraved in them.  There was a Patriots flag in a holder attached to a post on the front porch.  The home was, in a word, "nice."

Satisfied, Brady walked up the sidewalk and was about to enter his new divine dwelling, when something caught his eye.

A way up the road, there stood a towering mansion of royal blue brick, easily two football fields long and seemingly almost as high.  The roof's white shingles glistened, and were enhanced by the blue shingles patterned in the shape of a horseshoe.  Giant white columns supported a grand portico, the top of which held several Indianapolis Colts banners, each taller than Brady's home.  Out front there was a circular driveway of blue and white cobblestone around which meticulously manicured shrubs gave way to a sparkling pond.  In the middle of this pond, there was a fountain in the likeness of Peyton Manning triumphantly raising the Super Bowl XLI trophy.  Blue horses ran wild on the estate's ample acreage.

This vexed Brady.  "God," he said, "I don't want to sound ungrateful.  Peyton Manning and I are friends, after all.  But I broke his passing touchdowns record and I have three Super Bowl championships, and he has only one.  Shouldn't his home be smaller than mine?"


God smiled.  "Tom," He said.  "That's not Peyton's home.  It's mine."

Journalism: Another nail in the coffin

It may not be a topic with broad appeal, but from time to time I write about the state of journalism in this country.  I've written here about the affects of evolving technology on the profession, and here about the bizarre agenda-setting and information-killing hysterics often readily observable from major news outlets.

Consider this your warning that if this topic does not interest you, neither will the rest of this post.

Overall, people should know I take a generally cynical view of much of the news media these days.  It's half the result of working in the business for several years, and half the result of working with the business for several more.  Pieces like this one should give you a clearer idea where I'm coming from.

Which leads us to this story from a Michigan paper about a man suffering electrical burns.  I came across it through my work.  It's not a story about a major issue of the day.  It's not conspiratorial.  It's not tainted with liberal bias.  It is, however, almost laughably inept in its reporting.  And unfortunately, probably is indicative of why so many distrust major news outlets to begin with.

The headline is clumsy, and acts as a big-time buzz kill: "Worker injured...but not seriously."  Well, I'm hooked.  Nothing like what sounds like little more than a stubbed toe to compel readers to dive in. 

Within the first two sentences, the reporter assures us they are an authority on what happened: "His condition was unknown."  Hmm.  How do we know it wasn't "serious," exactly?  Oh, I see: "the man was conscious and breathing."  What a relief.  Good thing all it takes to get a clean bill of health is the ability to demonstrate consciousness and respiration.  I suppose screaming in unbearable pain would demonstrate these two things as well, but then we'd lose our catchy headline.  So we move on...

Our headline gets a little messy when a fire chief explains electrical burns don't always show their extent outwardly.  In the next paragraph, things get even more complicated for our optimistic headline writer: "(the incident) sent about 440 volts coursing through his (the victim's) body.  He's lucky to be alive," says the fire chief.  The story mercifully ends after our dutiful reporter reiterates, "the extent of the victim's injuries were unknown."

So, let's review: A man suffers electrical burns.  He had 440 volts of electricity course through his body.  I'm not sure how to analogize that, but I'm sure it doesn't tickle.  The one expert interviewed for the story says he's lucky to be alive.  The reporter admits twice they have no idea how the victim is doing.  But, apparently because we know he was "conscious and breathing," we arrive at the conclusion: "Worker injured...but not seriously."

Seriously?

The problem here (well, one of the problems here) is that it's apparent this reporter was rushed to post something online or meet a deadline to print, and did not check his logic.  In his defense, he's not the only one to do it, and he won't be the last.  How many times have cable news channels breathlessly rushed to tell us about a breaking tragedy (Balloon Boy, anyone?), only to realize upon further inspection it wasn't as it seemed. 

Journalists are admittedly in a tough spot these days: The demand for news and information is constant, and pesky things like checking facts or logic can mean losing out to a competitor.  How they adapt, especially with new tools such as Twitter, et al, remains to be seen.

But here's hoping we can at least expect a little congruity between headline and body, and paragraph to paragraph.

You feel me?



AF

Moving from exceptional to expected

In the past several months, I've been subject to the customer service processes of the Indiana Bureau of Motor Vehicles, HP, and today, through my work, an Internet marketing vendor.  Of the three, only the BMV provided quality customer service.  In fact, it was outstanding.

With HP, you'll recall, we were asked to ignore the fact they had taken our computer in for repairs once (as per our warranty) and had failed.  Then they asked us to roll the dice they could get it right with another crack at it.  Today, the aforementioned marketing group tried to convince me they had fulfilled their obligations of our contract, despite the fact the clearly spelled-out 14-day timeline for completion ballooned to 53 days, and is still not completed.  Obviously, I'm demanding a full refund on behalf of my company.

That only the BMV treated me with respect and dignity is important for two reasons: First, you just plain don't expect that from a BMV.  Second, you just plain don't expect that anywhere, anymore.  At some point, quality customer service became the exception, not the rule.

I've alluded before to the fact there is a crisis of respect in our world.  That certainly enters in here, but I wonder if there's not something else in play: a crisis of entitlement.

A pervasive entitlement mentality yields pervasive bad service.  The degree to which people feel they are owed their paycheck - without the due diligence to earn it - is the degree to which they will shirk their responsibilities.  This is especially a problem in our nation, as we increasingly become a service-based economy.  The intensity of a poor customer relations experience is magnified when the only tangible item for a problem that can be blamed is a person, not a defective inanimate object.

For what it's worth, I'm not sure the constant drumbeat from Washington about the "right" of people to obtain for free things most of us pay for is the best way to solve the problem. 

What will?  For starters, an increased emphasis on personal accountability and community responsibility, and a de-emphasis on the individual.  Parents and teachers play a role here.  

Then maybe one day we won't have to look to the BMV for a positive customer relations experience.

You feel me?



AF

No, really.  You feel me?  Then don't forget to vote for Feeling Fuller in the Top 50 Blogs of Indiana contest here!

Ponies change their names (And other lessons from a 4-year old)

It may surprise you to learn that My Little Ponies change their name upon reaching their sixth birthday.

It surprised me, at least.

The Pony Formerly Known as "Pinkie Pie" is now "Balloons," "Cheerilee" is now "Cherry Blossom," and the irrepressible "Star Song" will heretofore be known as, "Rock Star."

Just when I was no longer being chastised for confusing Toola-Roola with Scootaloo.

Such is the education of a father of a four-year with a mind blossoming before our eyes.  Hardly a bath goes by without Aislynn regaling me with a made-from-scratch story about her plastic submarine bath toy she named "Soapy the Submarine."  Usually some other friends ("Thomas the Tugboat" and the aforementioned Pinkie P -er- "Balloons," notable among them) must overcome harrowing obstacles in order to reach Soapy's house for a party.  Miraculously, they seem to emerge victorious each time the plug is pulled to drain the tub.

Then there's our nightly devotional reading, "I Can Learn about God."  At the end of each paragraph-length story, I ask a question to see if Aislynn has been paying attention.  Tonight we read about how God punished Adam and Eve for disobeying him by banishing them from Eden.  After we finished, I asked, "Aislynn, how did God punish Adam and Eve?"  To which she replied, "He gave them a time-out."  Nothing like a little personal experience application to instill understanding.

The wife and I have written before about the reason we have a deeper appreciation for such examples of mental development, and I won't belabor the point here.  We're grateful for her teaching us about everything from pony nomenclature to the "Spanish" word for "catch."  (Not sure she's accurate there.  Also not sure if Dora the Explorer is the best tutor.)

We're somewhat less enthusiastic about her increasing awareness of her status relative to little sis.  As you recall, 2-year old Isla at one time not too long ago enjoyed reign of the house over older, bigger Aislynn.  It was commonplace for the younger to simply walk up to and take a toy from the older with a gentle shove, which would send the ever-subtle Aislynn running up the stairs while yelling, "Whooooaaah!  Isla!  Don't push me up the stairs!"

Now, big sis is reclaiming her territory.  Isla is now met with stern reprimand simply for being at the wrong place at the wrong time.  Yesterday's round of princess hopscotch more closely resembled a theatrical blocking rehearsal, with Aislynn directing Isla where, when and how to stand.  And there's the all-too-often-followed suggestion by Aislynn that Isla be sent to timeout for disobedience.

It's safe to say I'm not the only one learning a few things from Aislynn.

All of which is perfectly normal for two girls under the age of five sharing the same roof.  It's a great course to take, and I'm glad class is in session every night I come home.

You feel me?



AF

P.S. - If you really feel me, click here to vote for Feeling Fuller to be one of the Top 50 Blogs in Indiana.  Out-of-staters, you're eligible to participate, too!

Find out what it means to me...

Over the last several weeks, a couple of media items have made me recoil in disgust.  I didn't know how to contextualize them until the last 24 hours, when I happened across a keenly insightful article.

The first item was Fox Sports' and Burger King's animated jab at Jessica Simpson's weight.  See for yourself here.  The video was shown during Fox's coverage of NFL football.

Put aside the fact that the spot is genuinely unfunny, regardless of the subject matter.  Also put aside the fact that, although the sketch attempts to demean Simpson's physique, she is probably in much better shape than approximately 99% of the males who viewed the sketch when it originally aired.

Frankly, I don't care for Simpson in the slightest when it comes to her talents as an entertainer.  The idea that she is by some measure overweight is, by any objective standard, laughable.  Yet the premise of this sketch, and countless tabloid reports of Simpson and other female celebrities, is that a woman's worth as a human being is drawn heavily - almost exclusively - from her ability to remain a certain weight.

The second item was Pepsi's release of an iPhone application called, "AMP up before you Score."  The tie-in to Pepsi's AMP energy drink portends to give men pointers on how to "score" with different categories of women, from "Sorority Girl" to "Married Woman." The packaging is sleek and the technology cutting edge, but here again, women are given value only for their ability to satisfy the sexual desires of men.

I realize fully that Pepsi intended the app as a "joke," as did Fox and Burger King with their sketch.  I also realize that Pepsi today pulled the app, and that Fox and BK apologized.  The cynic would say that either move seems hollow, as the surrounding publicity has already achieved the intended PR/brand awareness objective manifold. (Sidenote: #Pepsifail is a fascinating case study in the role of social media in brand management.)

I like to think I was always so sensitive to these kinds of degrading exploitations.  Fact is, I probably wasn't, at least not to this degree.  Perhaps chalk it up to being the father of two beautiful little girls, and shuddering at the prospect of what they may have to deal with in a dozen short years.  The lesson that beauty is skin deep while eternal value lay inside is timeless, but not easily taught or learned.

At first, I thought the lesson here is that the feminist movement, while making strides in proponents' political and legal aims, still has its work cut out in the cultural arena.  That may be, but the greater lesson here was actually revealed last week when the nation held its breath watching an odd-looking experimental balloon careen across the Colorado sky, hoping the assumed six-year-old passenger would make it out in one piece, only to find out it was a hoax.

The commonality between the genuinely odd Falcon Heene saga and the continuing degradation of women is wonderfully expressed in the words of a commentary in Thursday's Wall Street Journal: We're all Balloon Boys Now. 

When women are reduced to a weight or a conquest - or, pick any other humiliation of women or men - it is natural to decry the lack of respect in society.  This is incorrect, or at least incomplete.  At its core, what we have is a reality problem.  We just don't know what's real anymore.  In a culture where even the "poor" have several hundred cable channels, the lines between entertainment and news are becoming extinct, and television personalities are revered cultural icons, and issues of right or wrong are left to matters of perspective, reality takes a decidedly subjective bent.

We are obsessed with unplugging, "vegging," and immersing in an alternative reality because we are unhappy with our own.  We feel uncomfortable calling anything wrong less often for the high-minded reason of moral objectivity, and more often because we just don't know any better.  Eventually, this leads us to act in a manner similar to Richard and Mayumi Heene, according to the reality we believe others will want to watch.  In other words, we act by what we think is expected of us.


If we can't distinguish what's real, we have no hope of viewing our fellow man for what they are: beings created in a Magnificent Image.  Instead, we see them through a convoluted prism of how we believe we should see them, and treat them accordingly.  That's seldom good.  We treat them as objects or commodities, not organic beings with genuine experiences and emotions that contribute to an objective reality known as the human condition.  Meanwhile, objective reality continues its slow death.

You feel me?




AF