Category Archives: media news

Not wishing death

My comment in this brief blog post will be directed at a fellow who I must presume believes he is clairvoyant.

A Facebook friend — a member of my family — posted a ditty about Donald Trump not being seen for three days. I responded, “One can only hope.” This other guy, who I do not know, responded with a harsh rejoinder, telling me what I said was shameful and that “I want you to die.”

I couldn’t find the post when I looked for it, but I wanted to tell him that my death is inevitable, “but just not today.” Perhaps he took it down. Whatever.

Do I want Donald Trump to keel over? No. I don’t. My criticism of his policies has been harsh and I will not back away from what I believe are policies that will harm my beloved nation. But I damn sure am never going to wish death on the president of the United States of America. I am acutely aware that statements one posts find their way around the world in a manner of nano-seconds.

Therefore, I am not so stupid than to say such a thing out loud.

As for my private thoughts, that is where they will remain. Locked up and hidden from public view.

Football gives me relief

It’s time for another admission, which is that I am avid TV watcher, or perhaps I should say I am addicted to the TV screen.

Is there a TV Watchers Anonymous chapter nearby?

Whatever. I am happy to report that football season commenced this weekend, enabling me to turn on the boob tube (one of Dad’s expressions for the device) and watch young men play tackle football.

This avenue enables me to continue my boycott of TV news. I am no longer watching TV news/opinion channels, relying instead on the Internet and — drum roll, please — the Sunday edition of the Dallas Morning News. I recently resubscribed to the paper, vowing to the nice lady who sold me the subscription that I would take the time to read it. I told her how hard it was to give up the newspaper, given my nearly 37 years writing for them in Texas and in Oregon.

Football, though, is going to help me get through the weekend for the next several months, until early February when the NCAA crowns its collegiate champion and the NFL crowns the Super Bowl champ.

I cannot begin to predict when my news boycott will end. One factor could be the absence of Donald Trump from the national political scene. I am sickened by his ongoing presence, by the sound of his voice and by the idiocy he continues to spout from that overfed pie hole of his. I’ve got three more years of it. Then he’ll be gone, at least from public office.

In the meantime, the student-athletes and the millionaires who play football professionally are kicking it off. I’ll be watching them and putting politics on the back shelf.

Pictures say everything

Social media have become, for better or worse, contemporary society’s premier method of exhibiting what’s on people’s minds and in their hearts.

One social media image popped up on my Facebook feed today. They are very expressive. One image shows Donald Trump lecturing Volodymr Zelenskyy in the Oval Office; Trump’s image is stern and the text next to the picture tells you Zelenskyy’s country has been invaded by Russia in an illegal and immoral military action.

The second image shows Trump shaking hands with Vladimir Putin, the thug who runs Russia and the text notes that Putin was given a red-carpet welcome, a rare private meeting with the president of the U.S.A., a ride in a presidential limousine. This is the invader! The bad guy! The alleged war criminal!

What is wrong with this picture? Just about everything that might cross your mind.

Trump is trying to get Putin and Zelenskyy to talk directly to each other. I give Trump credit for that effort, even though it has been haphazard and slap-dash. I have trouble grasping, though, how he can treat the victim of an illegal military actiion with disdain and disrespect while showering the aggressor with all the niceties afforded to a head of state.

Let us remind ourselves of this reality: Vladimir Putin has been accused formally by international legal authorities of committing crimes against humanity by invading Ukraine. Zelenskyy deserves the red carpet. Putin deserves to be arrested, handcuffed and forced to stand trial.

Double down on news boycott?

Time for an acknowledgment, which is that my declaration some months ago that I was commencing a boycott of political news on TV is beginning to lessen … just a bit.

However, even though I keep the TV on to listen to the political news only with one of my ears, I am consdering a doubling down on that earlier declaration. I mean, even though I am paying partial attention to the machinations of D.C., Austin and even the local news, it is tiring to hear the same thing repeatedly.

I am waiting for a grand revelation. A “Eureka!” moment when someone tells me something no one else has reported. I want an intrepid reporter to deliver the scoop for the ages on what no one else on Earth knows about Donald Trump, or any of his sycophants.

Print journalism reached its high-water mark in the 1970s when two Washington Post reporters, Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein, were given license to ferret out the truth behind the Watergate scandal. They were so successful that the “gate” terminology has become a suffix for any scandal that boils up … you know, Russiagate, Hegseth-womanizergate, whatever.

The media have been sufficiently demonized by Donald Trump and his moronic MAGA minions that even tried-and-true shoe-leather reporting is now deemed suspect, of peddling “fake news.”

It’s not fake. It’s real. But the media seem reluctant to sic the reporter hounds loose to tell us the full truth. Instead, we get a mere regurgitation of what we know already.

I haven’t yet decided to fire up my news boycott. I might do it. I am going to wait a bit longer and hope someone can produce the next scoop for the ages.

Blog finds new rhythm

High Plains Blogger had hit a slump, I am willing to acknowledge, but that slump might be about to reignite into a new energy.

That’s my hope.

I have found a new rhythm to writing and posting items on this forum. I shall explain.

For years I had prided myself in my prolific writing. I was able to crank out three, four, five entries daily. My friends said they marveled at the frequency of my blog posts. I appreciate the good word, but it wore me out.

I have decided to scale it back to a single entry on most days. Sometimes there will be two. Even less frequently you might see three entries. I also have decided I am going to rely more on issues rather than personalities. You know already that I detest the moron masquerading as president of the United States. Thus, there is little — if any need — to whip that already bloody carcass. Hell, it’s already been bled dry.

You’re likely to read observations about more local matters. The Texas Legislature is back in special session for the next month. Maybe it will stay on the job longer. I am going to watch our legislators carefully.

I also want to devote more time and attention to what I call “slice of life” matters. Maybe this blog post qualifies as a piece defining a slice of retired life. You know?

I recently posted a blog entry that discussed taking a break from blogging. Some supporters objected and told me they want me to stay in the game. I heard you. I’m not going anywhere.

I just want to tone it down a bit. I want to stay sharp enough to comment when the spirit moves me and when policy decisions demand it.

So, there you have it, kids. New rhythm, less pressure, more varied topics.

It’s going to keep me in love with what I do.

Trump swims in irony

Donald J. Trump likely doesn’t know or understand irony, but man, he is swimming in it with virtually every public pronouncement.

He has defunded the Corporation for Public Broadcasting and National Public Radio, he said, because he wants to rid the airwaves of “bias” in its reporting. He would replace it with broadcasters who are favorable to Trumpian policy matters.

If you believe public TV and public radio are “biased” because they report the truth about policy matters, then what are you going to think of what comes from the Trump-sponsored media outlets who will flood our airwaves with propaganda? You want a definition of bias? I have just given you one.

Trump wants to ingrain in our skulls with only those views that satisfy his ego, his vision (such as it is) and his longterm objectives. NPR and public TV are not the incarnation of evil. I have had the pleasure of working with both media and I can assure you as certain as I am sitting here that public TV and radio go out of their way — and each other’s way — to avoid being called “biased” or “unfair.”

Foes of this blog have told me about polling that suggest that most Americans believe that public media are biased. I do not accept those polling results. It is a simple task to skew questions to receive answers you want to fit a certain narrative.

I have said all along that bias rests in the minds and hearts of the consumer. A right-wing MAGA cultist is going to see everything that disputes his or her world view as “biased.” They have swallowed the swill offered by Donald Trump.

The irony of what he seeks to replace public TV and radio is just too rich to let slide.

So … what about WH communications chief?

I am going to call attention briefly to an individual who hasn’t received a whisper of chatter in the boiling controversy over Jeffrey Epstein’s files and whether they should be released for public review.

I refer to the White House communications director. That’s right. Donald Trump hired a guy to serve as communications director for his second term as president. His name is Steven Cheung, a native of Sacramento, Calif. He played football at Cal State-Sacramento,  but didn’t earn a degree there. Hmm. More on that in a moment.

The communications director role is to control the information flow from the White House, to ensure it is consistent with whatever message the president wants to convey. The communications chief must work with the press secretary and all Cabinet staffers and White House staff to deliver a cogent, reliable message from the White House to the public.

The Jeffrey Epstein communications flow has been a cluster fu** of the first order. What in the hell has Steven Cheung been doing? The White House changes its tune about whether to release the information contained in the files pertaining to Epstein, the late child molester/sex trafficker and his relationship with Donald Trump. It vows to be “transparent,” then reneges on its pledge to reveal all the information it has on Epstein.

Attorney General Pam Bondi has told the media she informed Trump in May that his name is in the files. Trump then said he didn’t hear about it until June. Or maybe it was July. Shouldn’t the communications director be able to tell the president keep the story straight?

Cheung is not a seasoned communications professional steeped in political tradition. His earlier stint as commo director for the 2024 Trump campaign was riddled with blowups with the campaign media. He quit the White House during the first Trump term over a snit he had with White House chief of staff John Kelly.

It all seems connected to the revelation that Cheung didn’t complete his college degree at Cal State-Sacramento. He looks for all the world to me to be a throwaway appointment, a sycophant whose fealty to Trump made him preferable to others who well might have more actual experience keeping the lines of communication untangled.

So, as the White House stumbles, fumbles and bumbles its way through this Epstein matter, Americans are entitled to ask: What is the White House communications director doing during the daylight hours … because he has lost control of the narrative?

‘My Life in Print’ awaits

I pledged some time ago that I would keep you apprised of certain aspects of my private life as I continued on my retirement journey into old age.

With that I will make an admission: I have fallen short on one of my key goals, which was to complete the draft of my memoir by the first quarter of 2025. OK. I got that off my chest.

Now I will make another pledge. My intention is to finish that task by the end of this year. I need to parse the language just a bit. Notice I said it is my “intention.” I intend fully to complete this task.

For those who are unaware, I spent nearly 37 years covering communities in Texas and Oregon for newspapers. I worked for four of them, two in Oregon and two in Texas. I pursued my craft with great joy … until the end began creeping up on me. The end came on Aug. 30, 2012 when I learned I had fallen victim to the changing media environment. My boss at the Amarillo Globe-News informed me I would no longer do the job I thought I did pretty well for 18 years there. I resigned on the spot.

Then my bride said to me, “You know, you need to tell the story of your career. You’ve met some fantastic people and done some unbelievable things. Put it down and give it to our boys.” I agreed. I started work on it.

I had to compile the lengthy list of notable folks I encountered along the way. Some of them were great men and women; others were, well, not so great. I did some remarkable things along the way. I flew over an erupting volcano in early 1980; I returned to Vietnam in 1989, where I served for a time in the Army; I took part in an aircraft carrier tailhook landing and a catapult launch in 1993.

Only recently, I came up with a working title for my memoir. It’s called “My Life in Print.” It has a bit of a double entendre. It tells of my career using a print medium; and it tells the story of my modestly successful — and fully joyful — career in print journalism.

I got distracted along the way. I lost my bride to cancer 2 1/2 years ago. We had moved from Amarillo to the Dallas area six years ago. My effort to rebuild my life has taken more of my attention than I imagined. One of my two sisters recently passed away.

But … it’s not a downer. I have finished about 65% of the writing. I am pretty much done adding names of individuals to my already lengthy list. The end of this project is in sight. At least I think it is.

I also intend to publish it in some form. I want to bind the pages in a binder with an engraved cover. I also plan to dedicate to my bride, Kathy Anne, my immediate family and to the men and women I encountered along the way who have given me the grist to help me tell my story.

Moreover, when I’m done, you’ll be among the first to know.

Keep it in perspective

Once in a while, news of the day can render whatever discomfort we are feeling to be irrelevant, if not laughable.

Here’s what happened to me on Monday morning.

I was delivering my weekly run of Meals on Wheels to shut-in residents of Princeton. I left the house wearing just my shirt, a pair of shorts and sandals. I picked up the meals to deliver at a local church and went on my way. I made the first stop, chatted up the gentleman who is always waiting for me.

I drove to the second residence. On the way, it started to sprinkle. The rain worsened the farther along I drove. By the time I delivered my second meal, the sky had opened up. It poured. I got soaked.

I grumbled to myself as I drove to the third location. Damn rain, I wish it would stop … or so I muttered under my breath.

Then the news came on the radio, which I had turned on my truck to National Public Radio. The reporter told me of the suffering in Central Texas. The raging river had killed dozens of residents. Many of the victims were girls attending a church camp in Kerrville, It had destroyed thousands of homes. The deluge roared down the Guadalupe River bed at enormous speed, sweeping away trees, homes, big and small vehicles and presumably people.

That was the moment I realized I was bitching about something that didn’t matter one damn bit. Why am I complaining because I am getting wet from rainfall.

Needless to say, I realized in real time that my concerns about wringing my clothes from the rainfal paled in comparison to the unfathomable tragedy that has gripped our Central Texas neighbors.

I learned my lesson.

Words of wisdom live on

AMARILLO — The late Gene Howe, one-time publisher of the Amarillo Globe-Times, coined a phrase that ought to become the credo for every media organization that is still standing.

It is engraved on the side of the newspaper building and it reads: A newspaper can be forgiven for lack of wisdom but never for lack of courage.

The newspaper no longer occupies the building you see with this post and they have torn down the sign denoting the company that operated there for decades.

I drove by a couple of times this weekend and I was filled with sadness at the emptiness of the space. Some windows have been broken and they have put plywood in the sills to keep the weather out.

The company that owns what is left of the newspaper moved the few remaining staffers out of there a few years ago. They work in a bank tower in the downtown district. I haven’t had the guts to darken the office’s door since they moved in. I don’t know what I would say. No one there would care that I once worked for the paper, running an opinion section that used to provide daily commentary on issues important to the community.

They do not have an opinon section any longer. Commentary? Leadership? Courage? Pffttt! It’s all gone, man!

A new dynamic now fills the void left by the virtual demise of the daily newspaper. The Internet is the medium of choice. Newspapers such as the one where I worked joyfully for nearly 18 years haven’t  yet figured out how to compete in this new age. Certainly not the parent company that once ran the Globe-News. The Morris Communication brain trust — and I use the term with caution — gave up the fight and sold the papers for a song to another company.

I don’t know what will become of the building that once symbolized a great media organization. I won’t lose any sleep over it. Still, seeing that engraved message on the side of a building where such words meant someting important does leave me wistful.

And, yes … quite sad.