My Twenty-Nine Cents' Worth

Since I've been working full time at a museum, I haven't spent much time writing my blog. Not that I haven't wanted to. Things keep happening that seem to be begging for a blogging.

I've seen stuff involving tow trucks, burger joints, drivers flying-on-foot, police officers, and bureaucracy, but I'm not going to write about any of those anemic misadventures. Not when I've got this:

The Day I Discovered That Former Employment with Time, Inc is the Gift That Keeps On Giving (With Apologies to Hallmark)

In a nutshell, last year, I overpaid my corporate American Express bill before I left my employment with Southern Living magazine, which, as you may know, is a subsidiary of Time Inc.  American Express owes me $10.71, which they have informed me by letter on at least two separate occasions.

The letters have been mailed to my Time Inc corporate address of record, so they always wind up at Southern Living. On at least two occasions in the 9 months since I left Southern Living, two of my former colleagues have been kind enough to forward the letters to me, suggesting that I get Amex to refund my money. 

On the second occasion, the day I wrote this bitter little diatribe, I decided to follow through and call American Express to do just that. Here's what happened:

I got American Express on the phone. They were more than willing to help. The second customer service representative I spoke to at AMEX determined that because Time, Inc has placed restrictions on its corporate accounts to monitor all funds leaving said accounts, I would need to talk to a corporate account program administrator at Time, Inc to get the Fortune 500 company to release the $10.71 to me.

The AMEX guy was so helpful that he not only looked up the number for the Time, Inc program administrators, but he was also willing to patch me through directly to one of them. What a guy.

At Time, Inc, the program administrator I got was named Judy. Judy said that, "Well our policy says that you're only supposed to use the corporate card for business purposes. So evidently, you used it for some personal charges, is that right?"

So now, 9 months after I have left Time Inc behind -- having been shown the door with many other fine responsible professionals just so the fat cats at the top of the food chain could heap our minuscule salaries upon the massive pile of dough they continue to rake in for themselves--nine months after I left the company with a CREDIT on my corporate account, now, Judy in New York wants to interrogate me.

Judy in New York wants to know if I put a personal charge on my NOW-CLOSED corporate card, which I PAID OFF IN FULL NINE MONTHS AGO out of my own pocket. 

I didn't bite. "I don't really recall exactly why I overpaid by $10.71 sometime last year," I said to Judy. Which, by the way, was true.

"Well, see, that's just what we have to determine before I can release any funds to you," she said. "Do you happen to remember which statement you overpaid on?"

At this point, I think you might be proud of the restraint in my response. I said, "You know what, Judy, why don't you just" --and here's the part where you'll be proud -- "keep the money and forget about it?"

That seemed to make Judy very happy. I sort of had the feeling that, until the day I sauntered into her life, poor Judy had had a $10.71-shaped hole in her heart, that only I was able to fill. 

In any case, it was worth $10.71 just to not have to deal with Time Inc, ever again. In fact, I'm willing to go as high as $11, if push comes to shove.

I do hope the bean counters can rest easy now. 

Media Talking Media Episode 6 - Author Andy Kilpatrick Talks Warren Buffett

See that man with the million dollar smile? That's author, stock broker, and former reporter Andy Kilpatrick, who's about to release the umpteenth edition of his book, Of Permanent Value: The Story of Warren Buffett. Andy, who's just as nice as he looks, is the man who wrote the longest book on Buffett, the billionaire investor whose personal fortune is only eclipsed by his good friend Bill Gates. Andy released the first version of his book on Buffett in 1992, right about the time he left the newspaper where we both worked, the Birmingham Post-Herald. Since then, Andy's become a go-to expert on Buffett. He was kind enough to share his insights into the man called "the Sage of Omaha" for the latest edition of my podcast Media Talking Media. It's a longish interview, but full of good stuff. And a reference to Glenn Close that is not to be missed.

Beware of the Bufferman!

New Episode of Media Talking Media!
http://bit.ly/81VjB9

War stories

(photo courtesy of Stephen Gates, I believe)

The Huffington Post today points out that when people rank occupations, "newspaper reporter" shows up close to the bottom. The story refers to a survey on careercast.com ranking jobs on five criteria: environment, income, employment outlook, physical demands and stress.

This is, of course, a case of same-old, same-old. It's nothing particularly new that people in and out of the newspaper reporting profession hold it -- at least on occasion - in low esteem. As an illustration, I offer the history of American cinema, which is filled with great old movies depicting newspaper reporters as both noble and ignoble characters - often at the same time. See Ace in the Hole, It Happened One Night, His Girl Friday/The Front Page (either version), Deadline USA, One Fine Day, Laura... I could go on(and perhaps one day, I will).

Back when I was a newspaper reporter, surveys were ranking my occupation somewhere below being Darth Vader's valet's dog's chew toy. And frankly, depending on what was going on at the time, if you got any random collection of reporters together and asked, you could get a nice litany of complaints. About things in and out of the newsroom.

But the fact is that reporters love/hate/love their jobs. Don't believe me? Ask any reporter or former reporter for war stories. Then get ready to sit and listen. And laugh. And be shocked.

My personal stories include (but are not limited to):

• seeing my first murder victim 8 days on the job as an intern,
• having a judge pull a gun on me - in front of witnesses,
• having relatives of a murderer threaten me (more than once, more than one case),
• having a supporter of a convicted politician shove me on the steps of the federal courthouse,
• being subpoenaed to testify against a judge and a police chief (different cases),
• being threatened with lawsuits,
• exposing a baby pageant scam (that resulted in the scammer going to the slammer),
• having my identity stolen by someone trying to influence a small town mayor's race,
• nearly getting knocked down by an escaping defendant (and the deputies who were in hot pursuit),
• sneaking into a hospital room to interview a wounded cop (not my finest moment),
• meeting Mr. Sulu,
• reuniting lost lovers (big mistake, good story),
• meeting jerks,
  
• being one myself,
• meeting and befriending a lot of very nice people in every strata of society,
• and experiencing all the yelling, finger-pointing, second-guessing, self-pitying, righteous indignation, self-righteous pontificating, back-slapping, and practical joking that go on in newsrooms every day.

Good times.

All reporters probably have similar stories. And truthfully, it's that kind of stuff that attracts us to the business. And those kinds of experiences are what make many reporters stay even though the good usually comes flavored with bad, and the bad comes reeking of worse. That's why they get away with paying reporters so little. The job is just too much fun and reporters are just too crazy.

As long as the job of reporter is there (it soon may be on the endangered species list), you'll find somebody willing to fill it - no matter what the surveys say.

Black Holes and Quasars

A few years ago, while writing for Southern Living Magazine, I met a young rock singer in Charlotte, NC named Deanna Lynn Campbell. Although she'd had some success, mostly she was known in and around her hometown. I thought she had an interesting story, and lobbied to tell it in our Carolina Living section.

We got it in, although not without a little bit of convincing. Deanna - with her short spiky bleached blonde hairdo, her electric guitar, and her confessional, sometimes hard lyrics -  didn't exactly resemble the reserved, genteel Southern moms who were the best known constituency of the magazine's audience. Still, she impressed me as a kindly, thoughtful soul, an artist making her art because something inside compelled her. She loves her work and happily shares it.

The reason I bring this up, is that when I started my little podcast, Media Talking Media, I asked Deanna if she would allow me to use a couple of pieces from one of her songs, Black Holes and Quasars, for theme music. It took her a few weeks to get back to me, resulting in two different pieces of theme music for the first three MTM installments (that's another story). 

 But when she did get back to me, Deanna Lynn graciously allowed me to use her music. The result is on display on the abbreviated episode 4. She didn't have to do it, but, as I said, she's happy to share her work.  I just wanted to say thanks.

Wires and Lights

It’s the first of January, and frankly, U2 was right: Nothing changes on New Year’s Day. Unless you change it, that is. It’s really what you do the rest of the year that counts, don’t you think?

You can make all the resolutions you want on the first day of the year, but it’s the follow-through that determines whether your life improves or not. If you need to make a change today, you’ll still be needing to make a change tomorrow, unless you get to work and do something about it now.

I’m a big believer in -- and I know it’s an old cliché – making hay while the sun shines. You got something to do? Get it done. Need something to do? Find something to do. It seems simplistic, but ask yourself: Have you or anyone you know ever talked a lot about taking some important next step, only to find one excuse after another to keep from doing it – whatever it was?

I’m happy to say that many of the folks I know in the media business are not letting the grass grow under their feet. In a year that Media of Birmingham blogger Wade Kwon called “brutal” for the local media business, many professionals lost their jobs. But many wasted no time getting back to work. Maybe they were driven by fear, or the need for validation and reassurance, or an income – or all of those things. Whatever the motivation, some folks have been quick to demonstrate that there is life after whatever they were doing before.

I hope to have interviews with more of these enterprising professionals in the weeks to come, on new episodes of my podcast, Media Talking Media. If you’d like to tell me and MTM’s growing audience about your life in the media, drop me a line. I’d love to hear from you.

Meanwhile, I’d like to leave you with something said by the great journalist Edward R. Murrow, recently portrayed in the 2005 film Good Night and Good Luck. At the end of the film, Murrow, one of the giants of CBS broadcast history, was talking about why the news matters on television. But his words, spoken by the actor David Strathairn, may have resonance for whatever you bring to the media and in whichever branch you work:

“I begin by saying that history will be what we make it. If we go on as we are, then history will take its revenge and retribution will not limp in catching up with us,” he said. “Just once in a while let us exalt the importance of ideas and information… To those who say the people wouldn’t look, they’re too complacent, indifferent, and they’re insulated, I can only reply, there is, in one reporter’s opinion, considerable evidence against that contention…

“This instrument can teach. It can illuminate, and yes it can even inspire. But it can do so only to the extent that humans are determined to use it towards those ends. Otherwise, it is merely wires and lights in a box.”

Murrow was quite a guy. And he makes quite a point.