R.E.M. Splits, The World Goes, "Huh?"

The only surprising thing about R.E.M.'s split is that I thought they did it about 10 years ago.

I loved R.E.M.'s early stuff: Reckoning, Murmer and Document. I even liked Green, the CD that gained them a modest level of mainstream popularity. But in my humble and musically-uninformed opinion, fame must have been too much to handle for Michael Stipe and company, because to me, they immediately got weird(er). They sort of lost me at Automatic for the People. And, like two star-crossed lovers, we grew apart. I grew away from the hygienically challenged Athens music scene, and R.E.M. just grew, well, just stranger.

Back to the split. R.E.M. hasn't exactly been on the radar in recent years. Does their break-up deserve the publicity it's received? Really. I've got the attention span of a crack-addled squirrel when it comes to pop culture, but when I haven't heard a new release in the last few years, you're dead to me. Same thing happened with the Sopranos. Two years between season premiers and I've lost the thread and I've lost interest.

But the real question is: When is R.E.M. going to pull an Eagles stunt, a la Hell Freezes Over tour? Because the only reason groups seem to break up (especially those who haven't even been producing anything as a group) is to reunite. After they said they wouldn't. Because after your talent and prolificacy wane, a little drama and intrigue go a long way toward bolstering flagging sales.

Language Evolution

A few years ago, I was on the phone with a friend and when I wanted to wrap up the call, I said, "Well...I'll letchya go." She replied, "Have I been held captive all this time?"

Nothing snide was meant by it, just an observation of how we all phrase things. But I've tried really hard never to use that phrase again.

At about the same time, our newsroom's proofreader, a very proper man without whom the writers would all be in big trouble, said that he couldn't stand it when service workers replied,"No problem" to his "Thank you." Probably one of us less evolved in the room had said it to him. His argument was, although he put it much more eloquently at the time, if you're a service worker, then, no: It shouldn't be a problem to serve.

I was impressed by that. Didn't agree or disagree, and have never been especially offended by that phrase myself, but I've tried really hard never to use it again.

A few weeks ago, I was watching a movie in which a human resources drone flew all over the country to meet face-to-face while she fired scores of people. The reaction of the folks on the receiving end of the ax hit brutally true to life, spanning the range of those not-so-good human emotions. But what struck me was the language she used.

She sat through these horrible meetings as stony as an Easter Island monolith, and like an automaton, said, "I want you to open the packet I've placed before you." "I need you to think of this as an opportunity..."

I kept thinking to myself, why aren't these people throwing the packet at her?
"Really? You're firing me...and you want me to open the packet? Really? I want you to insert the packet someplace dark and snug."

What a sense of ... I don't know. Arrogance, entitlement and overblown authority don't really seem to cover it for me.

Unless you're that dreaded mean teacher keeping law and order in an unruly third grade classroom, there are so many better ways of conveying those messages. How about, "I'd like you to open the packet I've prepared for you"? How about, "Please think of this as an opportunity..."

I've begun listening more closely to how people phrase things to catch an underlying message, and it's interesting. No one generation or gender seem to own this imperious communication style. I think it's our language and our culture evolving, and that's pretty telling.

Believe me, whether it seems like it or not, I'm a lot more careful about what I write than how I say things. So I know I'm guilty of barking orders or brusquely giving directives, or even monosyllabic answers, no niceties. But I'd like to think that I can become more mindful of the tone I use and the words I choose when I speak.

As my mother used to say when we wanted something, "We'll see."
I'm still trying to interpret that one.
Are there any turns of phrase that caught your ear and maybe stuck in your craw lately?

Two great reads

In the past couple of months I've read two similar books, both about newspaper publishing, and both with similar themes and outcomes. You won't need to have hatched out of a newsroom to enjoy both, either.

One, Tabloid City, is by veteran newspaper man Pete Hamill. Hamill doesn't disappoint readers - his usual heart-warming story-telling is on game, and his well-developed characters are ones you invest yourself in throughout the story. Tabloid City: A Novel

The other, The Imperfectionists is by newcomer Tom Rauchman. Rauchman has worked for the Associated Press as a correspondent stationed in Rome. Compared to Hamill, however, he's a newcomer both as a journalist and a novelist. But you'd never know it. His story is every bit as enthralling as Hamill's. I wonder how such a young man could produce such a sophisticated story. It better not be his last. The Imperfectionists: A Novel (Random House Reader's Circle)

In each story, characters came to life for me; I was able to identify with each like never before: these were people I definitely knew: the solitary copy writer with enviable talent of creating headlines where I would just stare at a white screen, all while making page design look effortless; the affectations of a  adrenaline junkie foreign correspondent/stringer who is hell bent on showing how worldly he is while draining the life and resources from everyone around him; the corrections editor/copy editor who is always right. Don't even bother arguing. And you're thankful for him, believe me. The cub reporter who is really so talented you wonder why he chose journalism; the obit writer who just wants to do his job and get out of there unscathed; and the editor-in-chief who is has lead an interesting life, travelled extensively, is tough but fair, remote but kind and witty. He really is the lifeblood of the newsroom.

These characters inhabit each book with such dead-on accuracy and life that I'm already planning to happily reread both to visit them again. They're people I know.

Threaded through each novel is the newspaper itself. Hamill and Rauchman both write about their newspapers as endearing, living, breathing things. Their humble beginnings, their humming energy and their hardships make them characters in their own right.

Both authors portray the changing world of news well. Hamill in particular inserts what have to be his own views of the industry's evolution throughout his many years as a journalist. Rauchman captures a journalist's constant struggle with the job of gathering and writing the news against the business of running a newspaper.

Readers are invested enough in each story to feel for the papers as they meet their predictable but emotional fates.

Have any of you read either novel? What did you think?

Cheap Diversionary Tactics

I usually catch the last minutes of the local news and the first few minutes of the Today Show each morning before I'm out the door. So at 7:05 a.m. (8/2/11), I left hoping that NBC and Today went on to report a little more in-depth coverage of the vote than what I saw.

What I saw was a house full of self-important, self-congratulating buffoons patting themselves on the back for a job well done. The lead story - on Today, at any rate - was U.S. Rep. Gabby Giffords' "surprise" appearance to cast her vote. Am I being too cynical, or does that smack of diversionary tactics to pull the viewing public away from the real meat of the story? That is, as we are all painfully aware: our national debt and our economic prospects for the next couple of years. What's going to be hacked out of the budget? How much will taxes increase anyway? And who's going to lose (as if we needed an answer to that)?

I'm not really disputing Gabby Giffords' heroics here. To get up every day and make the progress she has in the face of the extensive injuries she suffered is heroic enough. However, whether this was her idea or it was all planned by some Capitol Hill PR genius, it was a pathetic and disgusting gesture on the government's part, and it was picked up big time by the media: Bring out the invalid to melt America's heart. Maybe it'll forget that the government owes them infinitely more than cheap theatrics for their tax dollars.

They can start making it up to us by finally earning the money we pay them. Because if you think the debt crisis - the economic outlook overall - has been averted, then read this:
http://news.yahoo.com/debt-deal-set-pass-were-costs-045917154.html

One of the points of the article that I found so disturbing, yet not surprising, is that once again, we've been held hostage by Washington parasites. The article points out that because of this "very public and intense squabble in D.C., already-anemic economic growth will be weaker, the unemployment crisis will worsen, income and wealth inequality will deteriorate further and, ironically, the fiscal dynamics will be more challenging," said Mohamed El-Erian, co-chief investment officer of the international bond fund giant Pacific Investment Management Co., or PIMCO.

Another point, made by a Chinese news agency, is that when the donkey and elephant fight, the whole world feels their dispute and suffers. Whether this global suffering continues is almost immaterial compared to the fact that the U.S. - thanks once again to this "squabble" - loses more of its credibility and leadership globally.

Thanks, Washington. I knew things would get worse before they got better, but I didn't think you'd have such a heavy hand in it.

Say it ain't so

Despite the news, I guess I've been in denial. On one hand, I couldn't dispute the recent headlines, but on the other hand, I was hoping against hope that something would happen to save Borders from closure. That is, until last night when I drove past a big "going out of business" banner spanning the front of a Borders store in Southfield.

My Borders experience goes back years, and in a different state. When I moved to Bangor, Maine, years ago, there were so many outdoorsy things to do that more than made up for the apparent lack of stores, restaurants or night spots.

One of the mainstays at the relatively small Bangor Mall complex even then was Borders. I'd never been in one before moving there and I loved it immediately. I found little known titles, helpful clerks and an overall welcoming atmosphere. Yes, I'm not a big fan of the big box stores, but with Borders, at least in Bangor, you had a store that really tried to fit in with its community.

Borders was also just one of two bookstores in the area. And, given Bangor's then-lacking social scene, Borders was a cool place to meet for coffee, chat awhile and pick up a good book or CD. I think it even had performers in the cafe area during weekend evenings. You always bumped into people you knew.

Over the years, Bangor grew into a city I probably would be hard pressed to recognize in some neighborhoods now. Even while I still lived there, a lot of cool stuff started taking off. Not only has the mall district swelled to capacity, but the once lackluster downtown is a thriving, diverse area offering antiques, great restaurants, boutiques, watering holes, you name it.

I hear part of this is a result of a post-Sept. 11 rural migration. People fled cities for safer, more remote areas. Always ranking pretty highly in those "great place to raise your family" lists, Bangor welcomed these folks and their business.

I also credit stores like Borders as adding to Bangor's attraction. I'd been told that the Bangor store was the leading outlet east of the Mississippi for the Ann-Arbor based business. The Bangor Daily News reported that it consistently ranked in the top 50 stores nationally.

So it seems a shame to close down such a top performing store that has been such a vital part of a community. And such a sign of the times. But I probably won't be able to resist the liquidation sales.

Public Spectacle

Why is it that we feed on tragedies like Amy Winehouse, and only after her death do we seriously look at the disease rather than the spectacle? We watch like vultures. And while we all probably said to ourselves, after looking at her stumbling across the stage or slurring her words, "Wow. That poor girl is going to kill herself unless she gets help," Winehouse continued to provide the scandal fodder that we have such an appetite for.

We view these people - Lindsay Lohan, Charlie Sheen, and the ranks of the 27 that Winehouse has just joined - as circus clowns, as Christians being fed to lions - those who merit our laughter, our scorn, mixed with the morbid fascination of watching a train wreck.

Those who really care about these people are the ones who stay awake at night waiting for the inevitable phone call. They see the drawn-out suicide and suffer.

And then, when they self-destruct, the rest of us sit back and say what a tragedy it was, how addiction and mental illness should be treated like the diseases that they are.

Yeah, the way Winehouse lived her life was tragic. The way she died is tragic. But so is the entrainment value of it.

You say tomato, I say pompous ass

Dear BBC,

I read with great interest feedback to your article about Americanisms, http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-14201796 and I'd like to join in the discussion.

I don't know why our colloquialisms are worming their way into your language. Perhaps it's because you have yankeephiles just as we - much to my never ending chagrin - have anglophiles.

What I'd like to know, however, is why Brits feel compelled to ridicule Americans at every turn? (A Brit would answer, "Because you're rich with opportunities to do so," I'm sure.) Is it a national past time for you, like baseball is to us? Do you get a tax break for it or something?

While I freely admit that some of those phrases and words listed - and others still - make my blood run backwards, isn't this just another opportunity for pompous people with a collective chip on their shoulder to try to rub our noses in British crap?

But while we're on the subject of language, let's look at just a few of your quaint turns of phrase that spring immediately to mind, shall we?

Mate. Are you on a ship? Have you not outgrown your...let's call them Etonian explorations? Are you reproducing with your friend?

Lift. In America, it's what you put in your shoes to make yourself appear taller. Or, you can give someone a lift to the post office. Or you can lift an object. In America, you don't enter a lift to take you from one level to the next. That would be an elevator.

Loo. I'm sure there's a perfectly good reason for this word being synonymous with toilet, but I haven't bothered to figure it out.

On the subject of toilets, water closet? Is it really a closet? You pee in a closet? No wonder you're so cranky all the time.

Speaking of urine, when you're pissed, you're apparently drunk. We're just angry or ticked off. Maybe that's why you've peed in a closet. Don't worry, I've had friends do that when they were drunk, too.

Cheerio. Are you randomly demanding a bowl of cereal?

Que. Why would you call a rank of people a que? C'mon, admit it. Doesn't line work better here?

"I'd eat a scabby horse": Wow. You really must be hungry, but I've suddenly lost my appetite. Oh wait. Maybe you do eat scabby horses.

"I'm feeling peely-wally." Isn't easier to say you're hungover?

I'd also like to know whether you snicker behind your porcelain teacups when an Aussie throws another shrimp on the barbie. Or, closer to home, have you ever listened to your fine neighbors to the north? Your Scottish brethren seem to have a language all their own, but it's supposedly the Queen's English.

I like the Scots, really. They're pretty cool, down-to-earth people despite their grudging membership in the U.K. But I defy anyone who hasn't lived in Scotland to read Trainspotting without referencing the little dictionary Irvine Welsh so thoughtfully included in the back of the book.

Greet = cry. As in, "When I found out that a News of the World 'journalist' hacked into my murdered daughter's voice mail account, I sat down and had a wee greet."

Ken = Know. As in, "I ken those Yanks can be silly wee gits, but why don't I just get a life and worry about something important, like beating the crap out of that football hooligan?"

Cheerio Scottish variation: Cheerio the noo. Given that cheerio is actually a greeting, then cheerio the noo means good-bye for now. I think. Maybe the Scots were demanding a new bowl of cereal RIGHT NOW!

Anyway, thanks so much for the lesson in English. It really was enlightening, and you're always so great about correcting us.  Here's a friendly bit of advice from a Yankee: They're called colloquialisms. Use your own and leave ours alone if they somehow insult your sensitivities. Oh, and here's one that you left out: Suck it!