The Recession Kitchen

LAO Update II

A good friend and reader took a moment to email Kevin Roderick at the LA Observer. Here's what she got back:

"fully explained on the blog: didn't know where it came from. now that i know i'll be adding the credit.

thanks,

kevin"

We haven't seen the change yet, but we appreciate Mr. Roderick being willing to address this issue.

Again, we understand that there was likely no malice here. But the question remains, why didn't they just do a little research, ask me and get permission in the first place?

LAO Update

So, I just saw that they tweeted about my piece when they posted it. So, I tweeted back asking for attribution. Can't find a phone number for them, so if you know of one please email it to me.

Hey, LAobserved, I like that swine flu piece....

So, a week ago I posted a mock conversation I imagined happening in newsrooms across America. It was, by far, this fledgling blog's greatest hit, blowing away anything I've ever written here.
Apparently that piece has gone way beyond The Recession Kitchen, which is very cool. But at the same time, one little thing has me worried.
When I emailed a link to the post to a friend in LA, he replied that he'd already seen it. When I told him that I'd written it, he told me that he saw it first at a blog called laobserved.
My first thought, pretty cool someone liked my work enough to re-post it.
Then I read the post and realized that somewhere along the line, my work had been orphaned. My name and the name of my blog had been completely stripped from the post. The folks at LaObserved even noted this in their re-post, saying that it had reached a paper in SoCal and the Denver Post but no one knew who wrote it. Then, I realized that if you google "swine flu newsroom" you get their site and not mine. Therefore continuing the fable that the writer of the piece is unknown.
Hi, name's Dave.
Anyway, on Sunday I sent them an email to let them know that I'd written the piece, was flattered that they liked it, but that I'd appreciate a little dap. After all, we're all journalists here, and we all understand the need to respect copyright, not so much for the money, but, because creators should get credit for their work.
Well, three days have gone by and I've heard nothing back. My words are still there on the site, still anonymous, still orphaned. Google it and you'll still go to their site, not mine. I am hopeful that hey somehow didn't get my message. Maybe it went to junk mail. Maybe someone's on vacation. But there is something else here, too. Somewhere along the line, someone decided that my words were good enough to pass along, but that who wrote them wasn't important enough to get credit. Then someone decided to re-post them on a popular blog without tracing the steps backwards to find out where those words came from. That's a failure of reporting, or, as one of my old editors would say, a failure of caring. I hope that's not the case.
I don't mean to get all salty here, but seriously, wholesale jacking of something without any attribution? Not cool, y'all.

Boston Globe: No death today, but what now?

A spokesman for the Boston Globe has announced the paper will not file papers with the State of Massachusetts to close in 60-days, at least not today.
But I truly believe that the long term interests of the paper lie in finding a local buyer who believes in journalistic integrity over profit and growth.
In fact, if any major metro in this country decided to invest heavily in it's newsrooms, finding reporters, editors, and design staff who were willing to work their tails off, the result would be profitability.  Show me a paper that's failing and I'll show you a paper that has made bad business decisions and bad editorial decisions. If anyone out there with a lot of capital and an interest in news wants to do lunch, I'm more than willing to share my thoughts.

What would the death of the Boston Globe mean?

It's May 4th. The deadline for the Boston Globe's unions to make drastic cuts has been extended and passed. The paper has warned it will file notice that it will shut down. They're serious this time. The guillotine has been sharped. Today could be the day the death order is signed for the Boston Globe.
If it happens, the message board stampede will declare the collapse of another liberal media outlet beneath it's own ponderosity. The former print and part-time-print punditry will line up in front of high-def television cameras to bemoan the scourge of Internet and technology's ad-dollar-siphoning gluttony. A photographer will snap photos of longtime journalists wiping tears from their cheeks, their hair askew, the way print reporter's hair tends to rebel. And deadline's will come, pints of beer will pour, and at about 7:07 Jacoby Ellsbury will knock his bat against his spikes and dig into the batter's box as the Red Sox make their first visit to the new Yankee Stadium.
There would be something appropriate if it comes to pass that the Red Sox are preparing for the Yankees when The Globe's fate comes down. After all, it was the New York Times Co. who bought the Boston Globe in 1993 for $1.1 billion, and it is the floundering New York Times Co. that is now threatening to shutter  Globe.
There are few entities that embody New England's loathing of New York more than the Yankees. The Yankees, are the epitome of flash and cash, brazen bravado. This past winter, when slugger Mark Teixeira hit the free agent market, many Red Sox fans longed to see the slick fielding switch hitter in a Boston uniform. In the end, Teixeira selected the Yankees. After all, he said, he always  wanted to be a Yankee. Every baseball player dreams of suiting up in pinstripes.
Baseball isn't the only arena where New York arrogance rubs New Englanders the wrong way. When Macy's bought Jordan Marsh, the marketing wizards couldn't wait to change the name of the store, and they've been battering shoppers with advertisements that promise the "magic of Macy's" ever since. And every summer, the accent of Cape Cod shifts. Fried clams become fried claaeems.
Now, New York is coming for the daily newspaper.
Let me be clear, New York is not out to get Boston. That would be a parochial paranoia beyond reason. I'm offering, rather, a peak into the psyche of many New Englanders, who, like all people, are incredibly proud, and are incredibly possessive of what they consider to be theirs. One of those things is the Boston Globe. For 137-years the Globe has been published and for 137-years it has had a tenuous relationship with its readers. To many Irish Bostonians the Globe has always been the Brahman paper, and as such, has always favored British Colonialism over Irish Independence. To many Boston Catholics the paper, which drove the exposure of decades of child abuse in the Church, is anti-Catholic. To many Boston African-Americans, the Globe has a long history ignoring their communities. And to many Boston sports fans the Globe has long preferred the woe of a story about losing, to the bliss of a story about winning, and would rather attack athletes than cover the game.
So, why should should the Boston Globe, a New York-run, anti-Irish, anti-Catholic, anti-black, anti-Nomar paper be saved?
Because it is New England's. Because it is the paper of record. The Boston Globe offers the first draft of history in New England, and for almost a century-and-a-half it has been documenting New England, and the passions of New Englanders. Because when it's focus is right, it can uncover rampant abuse in the Church. Because when reporters have resources that a big paper can offer, and the job security that a union can offer, they can alert the nation that their President has signed is allowing torture. Because the Boston Globe, for generations, has defined what a newspaper should be, from literary sports pages to a gritty metro section, to political reporters who work sources to get stories, to environmental writers who find out what things like fish, birds and beaches mean to people.
I know because I grew up in a Boston Globe household in central Massachusetts. I first looked at it for the weather forecast, hoping to find probable snow days. Then I discovered the sports pages. The Globe taught me how to read a box score, Peter Gammons taught me about farm systems, Bob Ryan informed me that the Celtic's reign in the 1980s was over, and that Len Bias was dead. In high school I discovered Derrick Z. Jackson and decided that I wanted to be a metro columnist. I went to undergraduate school in New York, and then graduate school at the Medill School of Journalism at Northwestern. When I graduated in 1998, my goal was to make it to the Boston Globe in five years.
I've since settled in Chicago. But that dream of writing for the Globe is still there. At least for today.
But if it goes, the chance to better the Globe will go too. If it goes, the model will remain lost, never to be restored. If it goes we'll have to find someone else to be anti-Irish, anti-Catholic, anti-Black and anti-Manny. If it goes, my dream goes, too. If it goes, it's gone. All of it.

Tips for New Freelancers (Surviving Freelancia)

There are several ways things can be destroyed. They can be burned, disassembled, broken down by the natural forces of decay. The destruction of America's newspapers has illustrated another path to obliteration. They've been smashed, like  an automobile's windshield or a hapless Cub fan's mirror. And all of those tiny shards, strewn across the streets of our nation, well, those are the former staff writers, editors, and copy desk denizens who suddenly find themselves broken away from their former unit, suddenly freelance.
Having one's career re-birthed in such a manner can result in a daze-inducing concussion. It's easy for anger to be supplanted by delirium or despair. Depression, that every-day-is-cloudy type of depression, can be a constant shadow. The rapid re-organization of goals and aspirations can seem cruel. The desire to turn every day into a Saturday is very real, and is very much a Siren upon the rocks.
Will you make it as a freelancer? Maybe. It might be possible. The market is undergoing a monumental shift. At the same time publications are realizing that they do, um, still need copy, there are thousands upon thousands of desperate workers who have adopted the mantra "some work is better than no work." Pay rates are dwindling. And even if you do get work, even you do have a contract, there is no guarantee that you'll actually be paid.
Welcome to Freelancia.

To give you the very best chance at making it, here are five tips.

1. Freelance is a real job
Sure, you won't be trekking to the same office every morning. But it is critical to accept your new position as every bit as real as that of a staffer. It may not have paid vacation or contribute to your social security, but if you do not set up a business you won't have a chance. Oh, friends and family may not understand this. They may very well think of you as unemployed. Gently remind them that not only are you employed, you are a small business owner, and as such, you are part of the backbone of America.

2. Diversify
You know the saying "You can't be all things to all people?" Try. Work in as many niche markets as you can, find as many different clients as you can, and, as soon as you can, join the journalism associations in those markets. They will help you find new contacts, they may offer databases on who is paying how much, and they may even help you get your money.

3. You are a creditor
You are a contractor providing goods in advance of payment. You must research your clients to determine their financial health. Seriously, I never thought it was possible that I could have a contact on work, fulfill that contract, and not get paid. That was until I received a note, actually three copies of the same note, from the attorney's for the Chicago Sun-Times, alerting me to my rights as a creditor to a company in bankruptcy. If any of my invoices had fallen prior to the company's filling, I may have had to file a claim form with the bankruptcy court.

4. Be visible
As a freelancer it can be very easy to go unseen, to do all of your work by phone, e-mail, and instant message. You can become an invisible fountain of brilliant, tight, copy on deadline. But it is far better to lunch with your editors and join a soccer team or crew of beer swilling softballers. There are several reasons for this. First, the more visible you are, the more work will come your way. Also, if and when things start picking up again, the freelancer who is known as a person rather than an email address will be more likely to receive a full-time job offer. Finally, the life of a freelancer can be  lonely. Spending huge blocks of time alone at a computer ain't what people were meant to do. And, if after freelancing for a while, you do try to go back to work, you may be asked questions like, "Do you think you'll be able to go back to working with other people?" Referencing your spot on a softball team can help allay the fears that you're a social outcast.

5. Work Ahead
Even if you put together a group of great clients, the time will come when one, two, three, four, or all of them hit a rough patch. When money gets tight, the first thing a publishing company will do is push back payments to its freelancers. This may seem like something straight out of the mouth an 18th Century coal miner, but expecting payment for your work will lead to nothing but trouble. Seriously, if you have a client who always pays in 30 days, expect them to pay in 120 days. That way, when they do take longer than expected, you won't be paying overdraft fees on your bank account because of their delinquency.

Oh, one more thing. Welcome!

Time to look for bees

Without pollinators the world would be a pretty dull place -- no fruit, no vegetables, nothing to allow many flowering to reproduce.
That's why the recent mystery surrounding the apparent collapse of many bee populations has many scientists and farmers concerned.  In the fall of 2006 a Pennsylvania bee keeper lost 391of 400 colonies in a span of one month. By the following spring almost a quarter of the bee keepers around North America reported similar losses. May Berenbaum, an entomologist with the University of Illinois, was dispatched to find answers as to why the pollinators were dying off. What she learned was troubling.
While scientists are sure that many pollinator species are in decline, outside of commercial bee hives, they are unable to quantify the losses. There simply was no baseline population data available. Without a baseline, calculating losses is impossible.
So, Berenbaum and her colleagues set up a cool little program through the University's Web site. It's called the Bee Spotter Program and it allows civilian groups -- anyone from backyard gardeners to school groups -- to become part of a critical scientific study. All that's needed is an Illinois address, a camera, and bees. In short, they want folks to send them pictures of bees.
To participate, volunteers are asked to set-up an account on the Bee Spotter site. When they photograph a bee, they are then asked to upload the picture to the site and enter the address of the location where the bee was spotted. If they feel confident they can try to identify their find using a chart on the site, but all identifications are verified by entomologists with the program.
So, if you are in Illinois and you're not a Bee Spotter, visit the site and think about signing up. If you're somewhere else, take a look as well. And if you spot some bees in your yard this year, take a moment to think of how beautiful their work makes our little planet.
 

Sanchez to attend mini-camp!

While the Yankees' Dora rehabs, the Jets are ready to Go Diego Go!

Weed Consumption on the Rise

This weekend it happened. The dandelion explosion.

Every spring it comes, and every year the shock remains the same. The yellow carpet engulfing the newly greened grass. The promises that this time, yes, this time, you won't stop until every last one has been pulled from the jaw of your yard like decayed tooth. This time you'll have 'em licked.

Or at least chewed.

I'm going to eat my dandelions. They sell dandelions at several area grocery stores alongside more well respected greens like collards and chards and spinach. But why waste the coin? If I had cattle roaming my yard, I'd slay one and grill it. If it keeps raining like it has, I'll welcome back the catfish. Then I'll hook 'em and fry 'em. The first wild turkey to alight in this suburban lawn is getting plucked and stuffed.  Why should it be any different for the dandelions, which, each spring, stampede my domain, taunting me with their nutrient rich foliage and fluffy seed-riddled heads?

The nutritional value of raw dandelions was easy to find Online. Go ahead, take a look, you'll be blown away by the amount of Vitamin A, Vitamin K. A few bowls of dandelions greens and I'll coagulate like a champ. (No? Vitamin K humor not your thing?)

OK, I can't lie. The idea of walking out into my yard, yanking some dandelions out of the turf and chomping them down didn't seem so appealing. Were these dandelions the same as the ones I'd spied at the grocery?

According to Rory Klick, horticultural chair at the College of Lake County outside of Chicago, "Yes, your dandelions are just the same as those trendy ones you see in the fancy markets."

In fact, Klick assured, the fact that my lawn is unfertilized and week-killer free means that I should have plenty of edible dandelions in my midst.

And, why stop there?

"As for other weeds you could eat, many cultures also eat purslane, which may well be growing in your flower beds.  And there is always garlic mustard, a dreaded invasive species that requires thousands of hours of labor to pull each year from our forest preserves and natural areas.  However, it makes a darn good pesto – simply use the garlic mustard leaves instead of basil," she suggested.

Comforted that I wouldn't be risking health by eating the weeds, I asked Klick one more question. What should I do with 'em?

"The young greens of dandelion are tender enough to use directly in salads, but the stems are kind of bitter.  I also have had the flowers deep fried with just a sprinkle of sea salt to serve, and they were pretty good -- maybe it was just the batter.  And I also have eaten the greens cooked like spinach in a big pot with sausages and potatoes to make a one-pot-meal.  My great uncle Nils used to make dandelion wine, but unfortunately I do not have the family recipe for that."

I was ready. I grabbed my dandelion weeder and zeroed in on a patch of grass by my back flower bed, an area about as far as one can get from my terrier's preferred pooping grounds. There, I selected two of the most vigorous clumps of dandelions, pronged the weeder into the ground, and tore them out. I gave them a quick rinse under the outside spigot and headed into my kitchen to prepare my snack.

A strange thing happened in my kitchen. I became possessed with the feeling that I had to scrub the greens like no greens before them. Sure, they grew in my out yard. Sure, I knew exactly what they'd been exposed to, and I'd pulled them myself, and they'd been out of the ground for about three minutes. But I felt they were dirty. Dirtier, than, say a bundle of Swiss Chard grown in California, picked by a migrant worker, packed, shipped to a distributor, trucked to Midwest, redistributed to a retailer, unpacked by apathetic teen, and tossed beneath the cold florescence of a Super Market lamp.

So I decided to soak them for a while in cold water. Then, I picked through them, one-by-one, breaking off stems and throwing them into a colander to be washed one last time. Then, I ate one.

Now, I'm not going to say it was bad. But it was bitter. In fact, it was bitter enough that I went to my favorite homebrewing board and posted a question. (Yes, I will be making a dandelion IPA this summer.) After eating a few more of the leaves, I came to a decision. I would need some dressing.
I soaked my fresh greens in some Italian dressing and sat down to dine.

Was it as good as, say, a nice baby spinach salad? No way.

But I'll tell you what. I haven't spent hours clawing spinach out of my lawn. And knowing that right now I'm digesting some of those suckers into the builidng blocks that will let me weed out some of their cousins and send them to an equally bitter fate, well, that's kind of empowering.

(And it's way, way less expensive than lunch and a bottle of Round-Up)

Swine Flu Strikes the Newsroom

I offer a conversation taking place in newsrooms across America:

Editor-in-Chief: (Staring at CNN coverage of Swine Flu outbreak) We need something good and local on this swine flu thing. Get someone at the university to explain how this god damned thing jumped from pigs to people, how are they tracking it, what the hell does it all mean? Get that guy who did that piece on the flu vaccine shortage a couple years ago, remember that sidebar he did on the 1918 flu? That was great.

City editor: Koprowski?

Editor-in-chief: Yeah, Koprowski!

City Editor: Corporate laid him off. Health care reporter. Non vital.

Editor-in-Chief: What about that bi-lingual girl we had covering immigration? She can go find out what the Mexicans are saying.

City Editor: She's gone, too. Diversity stories don't sell car ads.

Editor-in-chief: Don't we have anybody who covers the county health department?

City Editor: Sure, that's Barnes.

Editor-in-chief: Well, have Barnes do something.

City Editor: She's in Washington.

Editor-in-Chief: Washington?

City Editor: Yeah. She covers government. Federal, City, County, Municipal. She covers it all. She's great.

Editor-in-Chief: What the hell is she doing in Washington? Can't she cover the delegation by phone?

City Editor: She's not covering the delegation.

Editor-in-Chief: What?

City Editor: We had a local bowling team of teabag guys head to the capital to protest taxes. We sent her along.

Editor-in-chief: Good call. That'll be a good piece. Well, let's get a freelancer on it.

City Editor: You really slashed my freelance budget.

Editor-in-chief: Have Flannagan do it, he'll write it for cheap. I pay him $25 a story and he works like a... I'll call him..

(Phone rings)

Flannagan: Hello.

Editor-in-chief: Timmy! It's Bowes down at the Clarion, we need you to do a story for us.

Flannagan: (Moans)

Editor-in-Chief: What's up? You don't sound good.

Flannagan: I think I got the Swine Flu

Editor-in-chief: Sheesh, you should go see a doctor.

Flannagan: Freelance. No insurance.

Editor-in-chief: Don't they have that $25 clinic down on Maple?

Flannagan: Hey, when are you guys gonna pay me for that invoice from January?

Editor-in-chief: Gotta Go, Flannagan. Call me when you feel better.

City Editor: So?

Editor-in-Chief: No go. Hey what about Soletti?

City Editor: In Sports?

Editor-in-Chief: Sure, don't Mexicans play high school sports?

City Editor: I guess. I'll check. (walks over to Soletti's desk). Hey, man, what are you working on?

Soletti: I've got to design these two features pages, then at 3:00 I have a baseball game, from there I have to shoot over to a tennis match, and then there's the spring football practice at 5:00. After that I need to come back here, write those up, get them on the page, and by then baseball scores and the playoff finals should start coming in. What's up?

City Editor: Bowes is wondering if you can get us something on swine flu for newsside?

Soletti: Are you kidding me?

City Editor: Nothing big. Just make a phone call or two and put it in the system. I'll tack it to a wire story and we'll be good.

Soletti: Dude, I'm slammed.

City Editor: Two calls. You can call that pitcher from the baseball team! What's his name? Cabrera, right? He's Mexican. Maybe he can tell you something. Maybe someone in his family has it.

Soletti: He's Dominican.

City Editor: Oh. OK. Get me something by 3:00. OK. Big story. Total coverage.

-End-