Author Archives: Steve Mays

“No one’s in heaven here, but no one’s in hell”

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I don’t think I’ve ever heard a sadder love song than We Just Get Along by the Evangenitals.

I gave it some thought before I wrote that. I tried to remember some of the saddest love songs (are all sad songs love songs?) I’ve heard in the last 40+ years. Don’t worry, I won’t try to list any here. My list wouldn’t look anything like yours.

Themlalouise

How sad and achingly beautiful is We Just Get Along? Do you remember the moment in Thelma and Louise when Susan Sarandon and Geena Davis are sitting the car near the edge of the cliff with the cops coming for them and they look at each other with perfect understanding? It’s that sad. And just a little bit sadder.

I’m nothing like her
Which may be why he likes me so much
I don’t have her power
I don’t have her touch

No one’s in heaven here
but no one’s in hell
We just get along

Naw, that doesn’t cut it. You gotta sit in the dark with that last beer, remembering. Remembering a time when you were in love and they weren’t.

As I listened to the half dozen cuts from the CD (Everlovin’) I kept wondering, “Why aren’t these songs hits?” But that’s just the old DJ/Billboard Hot 100 coming out. We don’t need radio to make hits anymore. The songs –if they’re good enough– take on a life of their own and roll across the Internet, from one link to the next.

Old dogs and new tricks

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Mindy McAdams (Teaching Online Journalism) always seems to have fresh insight into the state of journalism:

“I see a few people in almost every newsroom (usually less than one-quarter of the staff) embracing the new ways of communication and trying to spread their journalism and enhance their organization’s outputs via new channels and techniques. I see a lot more people who are worried, even frightened, that there will be no place for them in this new world.

The latter group interests me a lot more than the small number of chained-to-the-barricades dinosaurs (who also exist in every newsroom) — because they are very different from the dinosaurs. They are not resistant because they think the Internet is a short-lived fad, or because they fail to see its potential, or because they are in love with the smell of ink on paper. Rather, they are resistant because they don’t know how to train themselves — they are waiting for someone to hand them a tool and show them how to use it.”

This is a point I tend to overlook. And journos –if I may generalize– aren’t the type to admit they don’t know how to do something and ask for help.

My Favorite Depressing Songs

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It occurred to me today that some of my favorite songs are pretty depressing. I wondered how many I could come up with off the top of my head. Real quick. 

  • Table for One -Liz Phair
  • At Seventeen – Janis Ian
  • Picture – Sheryl Crow and Kid Rock
  • Space Oddity – David Bowie
  • Dark End of the Street – Veronica Klaus
  • Streets of Philadelphia – Bruce Springsteen
  • Fuck ’em All – Evangenitals
  • A Thousand Kisses Deep – Leonard Cohen

This is just a starter-list, in no particular order. And I’m willing to bump some if you can come
up with some that I like as well but still make me want to blow my
brains out. Ten would be a good number, don’t you think? Comments are open.

When is it time to unplug?

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From a Reuters story about a new grass-roots movement in which tech geeks, Internet addicts, BlackBerry thumbers and compulsive IMers are unplugging (if only for a day)

“I realized it was a problem when I would sit down to check my email and it was almost like I would wake up six hours later and find I was watching videos of puppies on YouTube.

“I’d try and think what I had been doing for the past two hours and I had no idea. I associate that kind of time loss with blackouts when you’re drunk.”

“I have dream blogged. I have surfed the Internet in my dreams sometimes. If I start hearing imaginary incoming message chimes on my computer when I am out in the back yard, it tells me I have spent too much time online.”

I’ve posted before that I can’t quite remember what I did before I started blogging. And it’s even harder to recall what I did before the Internet captured my attention (and time). That’s probably not a good sign. But what was I doing with my time before I got my first computer, sometime around ’85 or ’86?

Perhaps I’m just rationalizing, but I think the time I’ve spent online, blogging or reading blogs (and news), has been positive for me.

I’m less argumentative. Perhaps because I dump my views and opinions here and, somehow, feel less need to yak about them. I’m better informed about many more topics. I watch less television.

Some of my best friends are people I’ve met online.

But the greatest personal benefit has been the creative outlet. Bearing mind that “creative” is relative.

[Thanks, Chuck]

Right of the Dial (The Clear Channel Story)

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I’ve been around radio most of my life. My dad was a radio guy. I became a radio guy. And I was doing affiliate relations for our radio networks when things started to change in the late 90’s, when federal media ownership rules were relaxed and companies like Clear Channel started buying up hundreds of local stations.

BustedradioAlec Foege has written a book –Right of the Dial– that tells the Clear Channel story. According to the review in the New York Times, Foege tried to give the company the benefit of the doubt.

“I was not out to do a hatchet job,” he writes in the preface to “Right of the Dial,” “but rather to get to the bottom of a company that I suspected had gotten a raw deal as its bad publicity had snowballed.”

The reader need wait only three paragraphs before Foege renders his final verdict: “Having spent a lot of time talking to some of the company’s most prominent critics, as well as some of its most devout supporters, I have concluded that Clear Channel is indeed to blame for much of what it has been accused of.”

The Internet and iTunes and all the rest were going to have a big impact on radio, no matter what. But I have to wonder if local radio stations might not have been better prepared for the challenges if they hadn’t been gutted and commoditized by the Clear Channel’s.

Nawww.

[Thanks, Henry]