Just watch the news for an hour and you start to get the feeling that there’s a lot in this world that’s spinning out of control… wars, wildfires, hurricanes, skyrocketing oil prices, and now even Hollywood is on strike. And not only is it out of control, it’s out of our control. There’s really nothing we can do to change most of those situations. Accepting that harsh fact of life, I have decided the only way to offset all that major strife on the planet is to enjoy the small kindnesses that come our way on any given day. This all came clear to me earlier this week when I was out for my morning run, wearing headphones and clearly oblivious to everything else around me. I started to switch over from the right side of the street to the left side and took a few steps into the middle of the street before I actually looked to see if anything was coming. It was about the time that I heard the tires squeal and saw the SUV swerve that I realized that yes, there was in fact something coming. Something large, with a luggage rack on top. The near miss was clearly my fault, and the woman behind the wheel could have had a myriad of reactions. I was expecting to see a scowling face with the hands flying off the steering wheel in a “what are you doing, you idiot!” sort of way. Instead, she just smiled and gave a friendly wave, as if to say, “don’t worry about it”. I can’t begin to tell you how grateful I was for that reaction. (Well, that and the fact that I didn’t get run over by a Chevy Tahoe). She went merrily along her gentle way, and I continued on mine, without a glimmer of anger.
That moment in time should be a microcosm of how we all walk (or jog) through life. Waves, smiles, hugs… it’s those little things that add up and help to offset the bad news of the day. We hug a lot here at WXII… (Margaret Johnson is undeniably the best hugger in the building). The usher at my church always gives me a hug … I look forward to seeing Mrs. Maddox on Sunday mornings because that simple act simply makes my week.
To all you people out there who have those “practice random acts of kindness” bumper stickers, thank you. It should be required reading.
And to you people who wear headphones while you jog, look both ways before crossing.
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You may think it only affects the people directly involved, but this Hollywood writers’ strike is going to impact you and your viewing habits more than you know. I was living in Los Angeles and working as a screenwriter in 1988, the last time the Writers’ Guild went on strike. At the time, virtually everything but news and sports was scripted programming… every word was generated by a roomful of writers somewhere in New York or Hollywood. (Contrary to popular belief, the actors aren’t just ‘making it up’ themselves. Seriously, a large segment of America thinks the actors are adlibbing. “That Woody Harrelson is SO funny! No he’s not.. but the writer behind him is). At the time, the staples of prime time television were sitcoms, hour long dramas, and two hour made-for-TV movies. Then came the strike. We writers couldn’t submit anything, couldn’t meet with producers, and certainly couldn’t get paid. The only things most writers penned were letters home, asking for more money. With all the “pencils down”, scripted programming dried up within a few weeks. The networks aired whatever shows they already had in the can, and then it was rerun city.
And then came along a show called COPS. It was the first reality show. No script, no actors, just a couple of brave photographers running behind police officers who were breaking down doors to reveal drunken men in sleeveless undershirts. It was something new, only cost a fraction of what it took to produce an hour long episodic drama, and the ratings were enough to attract advertisers.
Hollywood accountants took notice, and pretty soon, reality shows were busting out all over like dandelions. At the end of the day, you got “Who Wants to Marry a Multi-Millionaire” and “Temptation Island” because of the writers’ strike.
Two hour “movies of the week”, which were often based on real life stories ripped from the headlines, cost about 7 million dollars to make. Why not just take the courtroom footage from the actual case, slap it all together with interviews with the detectives and victims, and save all the costs of writers, actors, directors, and the catering service?
So if this strike lasts awhile, look for lots of news, lots of sports, and lots of Son of Cops. Might be a good time to pick up a book. I think a writer might be behind that too.
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Posted by wxii12.com blogs at 10/15/2007 9:18 PM
Although I’m bitterly disappointed, I admire Marion Jones for coming clean about using performance enhancing drugs on the way to her five medal performance in the Sydney Olympic game. Even when the rumors first started swirling years ago, I wanted to believe Jones when she vehemently denied the accusations. I’ve always admired her abilities and her grace as an athlete, and her gracious manner away from competition. You never want to believe that athletes for whom you cheer cheated to get to the top of the podium, and you hate to see anyone fall so far from grace. It was only after her performance on the track declined so precipitously that I started to wonder if there was something to the charges.
I can’t imagine how difficult it must have been for Jones to step forward and admit her wrongdoing. She knows she let down her friends and family, and her legions of fans, many of them young women who train and run with aspirations of being the “next Marion Jones”. Nonetheless, despite all the disappointment that goes along with her admission of guilt, there was something refreshing about it. For once, a marquee athlete had the courage to admit to cheating. In a world where cheating runs rampant in sports like cycling and baseball, the steady stream of denials and appeals gets tiresome. Compare Jones’s admission of using illegal substances to boost performance to Hall of Fame baseball players who literally swear they’ve never touched the stuff. And even though we know differently, and they know that we know, they just thumb their noses at us and carry on with their riches and their records, all of it tainted
In addition to forfeiting her reputation while giving America an apology, Marion Jones also gave back her Olympic medals. In exchange, I would like to see us give her a second chance.
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Posted by wxii12.com blogs at 9/24/2007 8:04 PM
Have you ever lost something and continue to look for it for weeks and months after it’s mysteriously vanished? That’s been my mode this summer. I’ve rifled through every drawer, every pocket, every nook, every cranny, and have yet to find it.
Back on June 1st, I was playing golf in the Brenner Children’s Hospital tournament at Bermuda Run. As always, I carried with me my little tool that fixes ballmarks in the green. (Not that I make a lot of ballmarks with my errant iron shots, but just in case, it’s at the ready.) It’s about the size of your thumb, silver in color, with the head of the Wake Forest Deacon imprinted in black. Monetarily, it’s not worth much, but sentimentally, it’s priceless.
The greens tool was given to me over 20 years ago by my good friend Julie Trogdon. I first met her when she was a little girl, when she asked for my autograph after a Wake Forest basketball game at the old Memorial Coliseum. We were great friends ever since, and she never forgot my birthday. Of the many gifts Julie gave me over the years, that greens tool was my favorite. It was with me for every round of golf I ever played for the next two decades, right up to the day I lost it. Julie passed away several years ago. She was a beautiful young lady, and I still miss her.
In addition, the greens tool held a special coin I used for a ball marker. It was a 20 pence piece I picked up in St. Andrews, Scotland, the day I played the Old Course with my father. Anyone who’s ever seen me putt will tell you that coin didn’t bring me much luck, but it made me think of my wonderful Dad everytime I laid it behind my ball. I have other ballmark fixers and coins that perform admirably in their absence, but it’s just not the same. If you’ve seen that ballmark fixer, let me know. I’d dearly love to be reunited. Until then, the search continues.
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Posted by wxii12.com blogs at 9/17/2007 8:37 PM
Last week, as Hurricane Humberto was churning in the Gulf of Mexico, I made the comment “we certainly don’t want the high winds associated with a hurricane, but we sure could use some of that rain.” When I returned to my desk, there was a message on my phone. The caller was polite, articulate, and complimentary, but was upset with me for wanting a tropical storm to come through the area to help alleviate our drought. From the “be careful what you wish for” school of thought, he carefully explained to me the destructive nature of tropical systems, and how they can bring negative side effects like power outages and flooding. He’s right, and I’m sure that when we issued tornado warnings on Friday, he was at home saying, “See, Cameron? I told you so!”
He didn’t leave a number, so I couldn’t call him back. Had I been able to, I would have asked him this simple question: “How much control do you think I actually have over the weather?” The answer is equally as simple: Very little. Very, very little. In fact, very, very, very little. I understand the sentiment behind the man’s concern, but the overriding reality here is that it doesn’t matter what I say or don’t say about hurricanes, because Humberto and his alphabetical friends are not listening.
In hopes of thwarting any future complaints, I offer this brief list of other issues and events over which I have no control.
1) How loud the commercials are. I agree with you, I just don’t know who to talk to about it.
2) NBC network programming.If I did, “Studio 60″ would still be on the air.
3) Fox network programming.Believe it or not, I get calls on this. If I had any say so, “Anchorwoman” and “Who Wants to Marry a Multi-Millionaire” would have never made the light of day.
4) Which NFL teams play on Sunday night. If it were left up to me, the Washington Redskins would be on every week.
5) Global warming.I do my part to go green, but the big picture belongs to someone else. Not sure, but it might be Al Gore.
6) Anything Britney Spears says, does or wears.Apparently nobody is in charge of that.
7) The Super Bowl Halftime Show.I’d go back to marching bands and flaming batons.
The weather.Did I mention this already? I’d call for rain only at night, and never on the weekends. And ample snow on the ski slopes. And no wind on days I’m playing golf. And 25 degrees cooler when Wake Forest plays Nebraska.
Truth is, I never mind hearing complaints from viewers. It’s usually great feedback and helps us improve, so keep those calls coming. (By the way, if you have trouble navigating our after-hours automated phone system? There again, not my jurisdiction).
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Posted by wxii12.com blogs at 9/12/2007 8:42 PM
I always tell my children, “if you can’t say anything nice about someone, don’t say anything at all.” I’m temporarily breaking that rule.
I don’t usually get too worked up about bad officiating at ballgames because I truly believe it goes both ways, but I thought the officials at the Wake Forest/Nebraska game were a little short of wonderful. Missed calls, bad calls, bad spots, they had quite a day. The pass interference “no-call” at the end of the game was clearly a missed opportunity for redemption. (Is a coincidence that the officiating crew just happened to be from the Big 12, Nebraska’s home conference? I hope so.) It was the worst “booing” I’ve ever heard at a Wake Forest game as the officials left the field. It seemed fitting that as they trotted off, the letters on the backs of the Field judge, Line judge, Umpire, Back Judge, and Side judge spelled out ‘FLUBS’.
On the positive side, I thought the visiting Nebraska fans were terrific. We talked to quite a few of them before and after the game and enjoyed the interaction. It was a little amusing when one Husker fan asked my wife, “what’s with all the getting dressed up to go to a football game?” He should have seen the place 30 years ago when football was merely an excuse to buy new clothes.
Speaking of clothes, I think it’s a great show of solidarity that so many Wake fans wear black to the games, but when it’s 95 degrees and the Deacons are playing at noon, they might want to rethink that fashion choice and go with yellow or white until things cool down a little.
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Posted by wxii12.com blogs at 9/11/2007 9:18 PM
It was a strange start to my day. On most nights, I get to sleep about 2:00am, and wake up about 8:45. Without fail, the first thing I do is turn on the television and check the news to make sure I’m up to speed on anything that may have happened overnight. That’s precisely what I did this morning, September 11th, 2007. I turned on MSNBC as they replayed the original Today Show coverage from the morning of 9/11, six years ago. It was exactly the same time, to the minute, that I turned on the news coverage on that awful morning in 2001.
Back then I watched the events unfold with a mixture of disbelief and uncertainty, unaware of the magnitude of the tragedy we were all witnessing. Today, with six years of hindsight, I watched with dread, knowing full well that second plane was going to crash, that the Pentagon would soon be hit, and then the mighty twin towers would fall. Part of you wants to turn it off, to switch over to lighter fare on another channel. Part of you can’t.
As a journalist, I was intrigued by how incredibly accurate and prescient the reporting was that morning. It was just 9:00am, before the second tower was hit, that NBC’s Matt Lauer had already raised the spectre of terrorism. Within the half hour, Tom Brokaw had mentioned Al Qaeda, the first time many of us had heard that term. It was the perfect blend of information and cautious speculation at a time when the viewing public was starved for information.
As an American, I felt compelled to watch those harrowing images captured on this day six years ago, gut wrenching as they are. I don’t want to forget those people in the World Trade Center whose lives were taken through no fault of their own. I don’t want to forget the men and women in uniform who walked the corridors of the Pentagon, the building where both of my parents worked. I don’t want to forget Todd Beamer and Sandy Bradshaw and the other brave people on United flight 93 who saved untold lives by taking action over an empty field in Pennsylvania. I don’t want to ever forget the firefighters, police officers, and other first responders who didn’t go to work that day planning to be heroes, but were ready when duty called.
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Posted by wxii12.com blogs at 9/6/2007 9:47 PM
When I first heard that Wake Forest had sold the naming rights to Groves Stadium, I must admit, my first reaction was one of dismay. I’m a big fan of the old and familiar. Groves Stadium is where I attended my very first college football game, back when the students wore a coat and tie to games. (I had to borrow a jacket from my old friend Cliff Pennell because nobody bothered to inform me of this unwritten fashion law during my campus visits.)
In a world fraught with change, I like at least a few constants in my life. I still haven’t gotten used to the fact that Walter Cronkite and Johnny Carson signed off. It’s the same reason you use the same kind of mayonaisse and peanut butter your parents used… or the same reason you still keep those old work gloves with holes in them, even though your wife got you a new pair for your birthday. It’s what you know, and it’s comfortable.
It’s not that I’m resistant to change.. for the last 32 years that I’ve been going to games at Groves, we’ve had six presidents. Fine. I’ve moved 11 times. No problem. The entire map of eastern Europe has changed. Great. I needed a new globe anyway. But to change the name of a football stadium? This time they’d gone too far, was my initial knee jerk reaction. And then, after I thought about it rationally, I changed my sentimental mind.
First, I will freely admit that until five minutes prior to writing this blog, I had no idea for whom Groves Stadium was even named. Turns out is was for Craig, Earl, and Henry Groves Sr., three diehard Deacon fans from the old campus. By all accounts, a wonderful and generous family, but how many Deacons fans knew that? Then again, I still don’t know all the words to the Alma Mater… I don’t chime in until the last three words, “Mother, so dear.” So my sentimentality for the name itself actually doesn’t run that deep.
Secondly, the financial fact of the matter is that this will bring in a lot of money for stadium upgrades. A lot. If that means better restrooms, better concessions, and better parking, then I don’t care if they call it BB&T, BMW, or B-L-T. The faster I can get from my car into the stadium and buy a hotdog and a Mountain Dew, the happier fan I am.
And finally, I’m very thankful that the naming rights belong to a local company with a wonderful reputation in the business world, and an exemplary record for donating money to local charities and sponsoring worthwhile events. What if, for example, the stadium were named for a toilet cleaner like Tidy Bowl? Sure, a natural tie in for post season play, but not exactly what you’re looking for in the big block letters on the front of your school’s arena.
However, all that being said, if Wake Forest goes to another major bowl game, I vote they break the deal with BB&T and rename it Grobe’s Stadium.
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Posted by wxii12.com blogs at 9/3/2007 9:55 PM
Really High on the Mountain
How happy am I for Appalachian State after their upset win over the Michigan football team? Thrilled, and on so many levels. First of all, it’s been great to see my App State friends like Austin Caviness just revel in the glory. It’s something they can brag about for the rest of their lives. I can picture Austin now, fishing off the bank of a quiet pond 50 years from now. He’ll get that little glint in his eye and say “Remember back in ‘07 when we knocked off Michigan? Yeah, that was a very good year.”
I’m happy for my Ohio State Buckeye friends, who take a devilish delight in seeing any kind of misfortune come the way of their arch rivals. (It’s how Tar Heel fans feel when Duke loses, and vice versa.) A few years ago I saw Michigan Head Coach Lloyd Carr rudely blow off a sideline reporter at halftime on national television. It didn’t bother me one bit to watch him squirm in front of reporters on Saturday after that loss, not to mention the 106,000 fans who were calling for his resignation midway through the first half.
Mostly I’m happy for ASU coach Jerry Moore and his players, many of whom are from the Piedmont Triad. A lot of his players are guys who just weren’t considered big enough or fast enough by the “experts” to play at the next level. What they can’t measure is heart, and those ASU players showed they have that in mass quantity. This was a victory for all the little guys out there.
What I don’t understand is how, with all the publicity and hoopla that came after this game, many of the national sportscasters are still calling it “Appa-LAY-chian” State. Maybe if the Mountaineers beat Southern Cal next year those guys will get it right.
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Posted by wxii12.com blogs at 8/29/2007 4:54 PM
I’m guessing that most of you have seen Miss Teen South Carolina spontaneously combust during her recent question and answer session with the pageant judges. I will admit that the first time I watched it, I laughed out loud as her train of thought derailed, but as she received more and more media attention, my heart really went out to her.
It’s that same sickening feeling I get when someone forgets the words to the National Anthem. Speaking as someone who’s often struggled to find the right words while thousands of people were watching, I just can’t stand to see it happen to anyone else.
And because of the now infamous “South Carolina Soliloquy,” I am now more grateful than ever for the experience I had at my most recent public appearance.
I try to get out in the community as much as my schedule allows…between schools, service clubs, banquets, garden clubs, Scout troops, and book clubs, I make somewhere in the neighborhood of 125 public appearances a year.
It’s a great way to give back to a community that’s been awfully good to me over these many years. It always helps to appear in front of a friendly audience, and so church groups are always high on my list because they’re so welcoming. (they also tend to have the best food… promise me deviled eggs and I’ll follow you anywhere.) Senior groups are also a great place to visit… they’re warm and appreciative, and usually write the best “thank you” notes.
So imagine my delight when the senior group at my OWN church recently invited me to speak. Can you imagine a friendlier audience? And what an honor to be able to speak to a room full of people you respect and admire, and from whom you’ve learned so much. And if you make a mistake or stumble, there’s always that built-in safety net of forgiveness.
I hear that Miss Teen South Carolina will be heading north to attend Appalachian State.
I’m thinking it might be a great idea for her to stop off in the Triad and speak to the senior group at my church. They’ll get her back on track. Hope she likes deviled eggs.
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