My kind of war

I’ve read a lot news stories, blog posts and tweets this weekend, reminding everyone to remember the men and women who served and died in defense of our country. How best to do that? Little American flags? Those magnetic yellow “Support Our Troops” ribbons?

John MaysMy dad was in the Navy (a radio operator) and saw action in the pacific during WWII. He survived but never talked about it. To me or anyone else as far as I know. I do recall my mom telling me how relieved everyone was when it “started looking like we would win” the war. That was the first time I really understood it was possible for our country to lose a war. The movies always included some drama on that score but you knew the good guys would prevail. Not so for those who fought the thing.

Perhaps the best time to remember our men and women in uniform is before we send them off to fight and die. And if the cause isn’t just and right –whatever that means anymore– we don’t send them.

I grew up during the Cold War and I kind of miss it. If you think about it, a thermonuclear war is the only war where the politicians –who decide to go to war– might die in the first ten minutes. That is my kind of war.

Twitter coverage of execution (2009)

Missourinet (a Learfield network) News Director Bob Priddy covered last night’s execution of Dennis Skillicorn. Reporters and witnesses can’t take cell phones past a certain point, but Bob was planning to use Twitter to file updates before and after the execution (he was a witness).

The wifi he expected wasn’t available so he took notes and posted to @missourinet when he got back on line (at the motel, I assume).

As I expected, Twitter was a very effective tool in the hands of good and experienced reporters. Had reporters been allowed to keep their Blackberrys and iPhones, this is probably as close to live coverage of an execution as we’re likely to get.

And in the hands of someone as responsible as Bob Priddy, I think this might be a good idea. As I understand it, the rationale behind having witnesses is to insure the people of Missouri “see” this ultimate punishment. Twitter might be the least sensational way to accomplish this on a mass scale.

I’ll make a prediciton here: If not in Missouri, some state will allow or provide this coverage.

Execution of Dennis Skillicorn

There’s a lot of interest in the scheduled execution of Dennis Skillicorn, scheduled for one minute past midnight. I assume that’s because it’s been a few years since Missouri’s last execution.

In March of 2000, I witnessed the execution of James Hampton. Here’s an excerpt from the case facts on MissouriDeathRow.com (a site I maintain for our company):

“At some point during their drive Hampton learned from his police scanner that the authorities were searching for Ms. Keaton. According to his trial testimony, Hampton decided to kill Ms. Keaton after learning that the police were looking for him. Hampton drove Ms. Keaton to the farm of the real estate agent from whom he had learned about Ms. Keaton. Hampton blindfolded Ms. Keaton and took her into a wooded area about one-half mile from the real estate agent’s farm. He then killed Ms. Keaton by repeatedly striking her in the head with a hammer. He then buried her and burned all of her belongings.”

Note the similarity (to me) of the final minutes of Skillicorn’s victim:

“They (Dennis Skillicorn and Allen Nicklasson) directed Drummond to exit I-70 at the Highway T exit. They proceeded four miles on to County Road 202 to a secluded area where they ordered Drummond to stop his vehicle. As Nicklasson prepared to take Drummond through a field toward a wooded area, Skillicorn demanded Drummond’s wallet. Knowing Nicklasson had no rope or other means by which to restrain Drummond and that Nicklasson carried a loaded .22 caliber pistol, Skillicorn watched as Nicklasson lead Drummond toward a wooded area. There, Nicklasson shot Drummond twice in the head. Skillicorn acknowledged hearing two shots from the woods and that Nicklasson returned having “already done what he had to do.” Drummond’s remains were found eight days later.”

The controversy surrounding Missouri’s execution protocol notwithstanding, I’ll always remember Hampton’s final moments as seeming much less terrifying than that blindfolded walk into the woods.

TweetSpin: “set it and forget it”

TweetSpin, a new Twitter application designed by a radio programmer named Rico Garcia. Among other info, TweetSpin can post "now playing" data from a station's website.

Here's a couple of snippets from a review in R&R, a radio trade publication:

From KHOP PD MoJo Roberts: "TweetSpin allows us to constantly have 'what's playing now' on our status and set appointment tweets to go out so we can set it and forget it."

In addition the "now playing" feature, Garcia is more excited about built-in scheduling that allows stations to set up hourly, daily or weekly messages to encourage listening appointments.

Hardly surprising that an industry in the process of automating itself out of existence would look for a way to automate social media, too. Of course, if there's really no one at the station…

“Eternity is a very long time, especially towards the end.”

One of our networks received an email from a listener/reader this week, objecting to our use of the adjective "elderly" to describe a 56 year old woman who was killed in a tornado. I'm sure I once considered 56 "elderly" (ancient?) but no longer.

The next day I received a phone call from an old friend of my father, Luther Pillow. He's 86 and still works ("when I want to"). Sounded very healthy and sharp. Assured me he'd get back online and check out my KBOA website.

In a little more than two weeks, I will have been working for our company for 25 years. Have you figured out the math yet?

Mr. Pillow is 25 years older than I. Which means –health and circumstances permitting– I might be nearing the halfway point in my current employment.

Think of it. 50 years with one company. And what changes will I see in the next quarter century?

No, I don't think 56 is elderly.

Headline is a quote by Stephen Hawking