My space is your space
Back in the day, if somebody died, got into trouble or announced he would run for political office, reporters knew exactly what to do first. He would scramble to the bars, restaurants and clubs in search of friends or enemies of the person under scrutiny. He would trot hideously to the courthouse in search of legal dirt. He would pound the pavement uptown and downtown with giddy dreams of an exclusive interview.
These days, reporters are saving the wear and tear on their shoes. A pair of $20 loafers might last year because lately, even the finest journalists are staying at their desks and starting their search in the nebulous, incestuous world of MySpace.
I say it with a bit of disdain, it’s true. Some of the news people I respect the most have assigned a level of importance to MySpace once reserved for legal documents. But I say it with resign too, because more often than not, when someone makes the news in a big way, he or she has a webpage out there just waiting to be picked apart by the frothing public.
Nobody needs me to tell them that MySpace is huge. When a teen is accused of a high profile crime (such as the kid who clubbed to death a neighbor girl in Fayette), the contents of his webpage becomes a story all its own. When teens are killed in car wrecks, details about their lives are uncovered and examined through MySpace ramblings.
But it’s not just a place for kids anymore. Plenty of grown men and women with varying degrees of clout and fame are out there listing their favorite hobbies, posting personal photos, and sharing intimate thoughts with strangers at light speed. And my God if the grown ups aren’t twice as dumb as the kids when it comes to what they share.
I’ve heard stories about men in power bragging about indulgences in autoerotic asphyxiation. Or pontificating on their choice of hookers while visiting the city on political junkets. I knew a young lady who prominently displayed her photo and personal information on her website and then wrote at length about what a mean-spirited, small-peckered, mentally-questionable dolt she felt her boss to be. I’ve known a slew of people who’ve made less dramatic but still life-altering errors in judgment because they believed only their nearest and most trusted friends would happen into their personal web space.
You may call me a hypocrite if you’d like. Because I tend to write things that range from deeply personal to indicative of deep, deep derangement. But I do so with the knowledge that anything I jot down in a book, a blog, an-email, a news column, or anywhere else could one day be read by anyone at all. That includes my boss (Hi, Rex. I snuck out early last night.) The chief of police (I have never once bought heroin from a hooker while sober). Or even my fifth grade teacher (Yes, Miss Jones. That was me who brought the dirty book to school and sold individual pages for a quarter apiece. I also thought you were hot).
I like to think I’m still an old-school reporter, wearing out shoes very quickly by pounding the pavement in search of news. But the temptation to sit here where it’s warm is tempting. I could roam the universe of MySpace and resign myself to the idea that a person’s true nature is revealed more through expressions on a website than expressions in the real world. Maybe I’ll start my search with you. Maybe I already have.
You really ought to be careful with that autoerotic stuff. People have died, you know.
MySpace page can be found here. The elegance of it belongs to Nadine, who graciously put it together for me. She cannot be held be responsible for any of the absurd things I do before the camera.
January 11th, 2007 at 9:06 am
“I like to think I’m still an old-school reporter, wearing out shoes very quickly by pounding the pavement in search of news”
The problem, of course, is that you’re not that type of reporter. Hardly anyone is anymore. Gone are the days of any type of investigating reporter. All of youse are just too lazy. It is so much easier to quote police reports, or hearsay, than to pound the pavement and interview people. If you can’t find it in a Google search, or on MySpace, than why bother. I miss that, the Jack Andersons of olde.
Of course the real culprits are the editors and publishers who accept such shoddy work, because the ad people do their jobs and they still make the money. How else can you explain Bush’s drunk driving record or Woodcock’s, can’t believe we’re missing out on four years of saying that at the drop of a hat, tax deliquency? Of course, neither had a MySpace page so Flammer missed it.
January 11th, 2007 at 10:21 am
//you’re not that type of reporter// //much easier to quote police reports, or hearsay, than to pound the pavement and interview people//
I’m pretty sure you’re wrong there, Walter. My very first direct interaction with Mark was when I was a news clerk being pushed into writing. The city editor decided I should follow him to the courthouse for a hearing on a murder trial, and afterwards as he tried to ferret out information about the case. What an eye-opener that day was. Mark working his sources and strangers at the courthouse, then at the various downtown bars and social clubs he dragged me to in search of certain people expected to be in the know. Two things that I realized that day: There ARE people who hole themselves up in dark corners of Lewiston and drink themselves silly at 10 in the morning. And there ARE reporters who work in the manner of the (what I thought was fictional) reporters of old-time movies and television.
Many years later, after the phone would ring on his days off, I was again — too many times to count — accompanying Mark as he worked the crowds at breaking news or chain-dialed brother’s wife’s friends of sources to get the scuttlebutt on his latest story.
Of all the things Mark can be called, “newshound” has to be in the list.
January 11th, 2007 at 11:10 am
Flamette, newshound is definitly on the list, along with “lucky bastard”.
Its to bad that the editors aren’t of the same fabric as Flamer.
January 11th, 2007 at 11:21 am
What? Mark isn’t like Jack Anderson? I was positive I had another Jack on my hands, but, truthfully, I picture him like Geraldo!!! (Even though, in photos, he looks more like Sean Penn.
Hey, Flammette, how about calling him NewsNose or Scoop?
And, Walter, don’t disillusion me so early in the morning … even before I’ve had my tea! How can you do this to me?
Just because I’m in California and can’t get to you with my famous super-duper knock-out punch! And that’s “fist” punch, not the kind you drink at proms back there in Maine.
P.S. Mark, I enjoyed reading your MySpace article above; it could be posted with Amazon Shorts as a humorous memoir or one of those categories. Might as well make 49 cents on it instead of giving it to us free.
January 11th, 2007 at 1:00 pm
Walter, aka Danroid, generalizes people into different catagories. Republican? You must be a drunk driver. Journalist? Then you’re lazy. And so on….If you even knew Mark at all, you would know he is an old school reporter. Oh sure, he may have access to the internet and can gather information there, but that is a very tiny amount of where his information comes from. I have even sent him a link to a Myspace page of someone accused of murder, but he never mentioned it in the ooodles of articles he’s written on the guy. Instead, he interviewed anyone that would talk to him. He’s pounded the pavement, looked for clues and practically solved cases on his own. So Walter, you suck.
January 11th, 2007 at 1:12 pm
This is one of those rare cases where I’d defend myself, but you good people have done it far more eloquently than I ever could. The only mystery now is “who is Walter and why is he wrong about everything?”
Show yourself, Walt. I formally invite you to come spend a night on the beat with me. We’ll wait until it’s warmer so we can really get out there in the mud.
January 11th, 2007 at 1:33 pm
He wouldn’t last for five minutes on your beat. He’s one of those folks closed up in his apartment, sitting in front of the computer, dozen donuts by his side, in his underwear. Probably whacking off to a picture of Nancy Pelosi.
January 11th, 2007 at 3:47 pm
Walter, you have no idea what you’re talking about. Mark has to be one of the hardest working investigative reporters out there. Not only is he hard working, he’s also honest, caring and compassionate. So, what type of a reporter are you, Walter?
January 11th, 2007 at 5:33 pm
Generalizations are easy, however I find ALL of the defenders have yet to give any example of the alledged investigative reorting by Mark. Also hiding behind your wife’s trousers is suspicious.
January 11th, 2007 at 6:02 pm
Walter’s tactics have a familiar ring. Seems I’ve seen that kind of nonsense on the SJ. I think we’ve issued challenges before — how unfortunate for Walter that he signed on for a slamfest of our beloved host. No way you can win this one, mate!
January 11th, 2007 at 6:03 pm
And BTW Walter – generalizations are easy you say? Well who would know better than you. It must give your brain a real relaxing life to have all your attitudes pre-packaged that way.
January 11th, 2007 at 6:05 pm
And, I don’t see how a wife defending her husband makes him “hiding behind her trousers”. Hasn’t your wife ever stood up for you? Or, don’t you have one?
January 11th, 2007 at 6:53 pm
Mark, Nadine — that’s one souped-up MySpace page! Nadine, is that just a hobby for you or what? You rock! Of course in this case you had great material to work with.
January 11th, 2007 at 7:27 pm
Linda, I have no “tactics” and there isn’t a “slamfest.” I was merely lamenting the lost of investigated journalism. I never attacked Mark directly, merely his style of journalism. Flamette attacked my comments only, which is fair game. My reference to her comments was merely defense by a spouse is expected, not really useful.
The rest of you, except for Betty Dravis, merely attacked me. Not useful at all, except, perhaps, for your own conscience.
Now let me give an instance of the lack of investigating journalism. Recently an editorial at the SJ lamented on the lack of info from the police about ownership of the vehicle involved in a fatal accident. Any reporter worth his salt would merely run the license plate number. If unable to do that, fire him.
Now give me examples where Mark’s crackshot journalism produced explosive results.
January 11th, 2007 at 7:36 pm
Hey Mark, when I’m up to visit in July, I’d accept an invite to run your beat with you. I think it’d be VERY interesting.
January 11th, 2007 at 8:12 pm
Walter…again…you have no clue. Not a clue in the world. And, how do you think I was “attacking” you? I was just merely stating my opinion.
January 11th, 2007 at 8:30 pm
I am often surprised by the things people post on their blogs about their employers and co-workers. Some very negative stuff sometimes! or about their neighbors, that can’t be good for neighborhood relations. Or worse yet, their relatives. You see it all.
January 11th, 2007 at 8:55 pm
LOL Linda,
considering some of the fun we’ve had in the past about my neighbor’s pool, I guess it’s probably good they don’t read this blog, huh?
January 11th, 2007 at 9:14 pm
Walter, Walter. You make me want to fly off in a long string of bragadoccio. It wouldn’t be proper. Why don’t you visit or call me and I’ll share tales of journalistic heroism with you. Seriously, it would be fun.
January 11th, 2007 at 9:29 pm
Martha, you at least are just commenting on a blog and not owning it so you are pretty anonymous. There are probably plenty of people in PA who’ve lain awake listening for the bleating of goats in their back garden, hoping they are not the chosen ones. Every claptrap truck chugging down their street in the wee hours probably makes them break a sweat. And I’m sure they deserve it.
Mark, throw another log on the campfire and tell us scary stories about your adventures, please?
January 11th, 2007 at 9:43 pm
For those who might be wondering: last summer Martha (who worked nights) had some problems with noisy obnoxious neighbors. We plotted a blog road trip to deliver a truckload of goats to the neighbors’ yard. Damn, that would have been fun, how did we get so distracted that we never got the trip on the road?
January 11th, 2007 at 9:44 pm
Nah, I’m not going to do that. It would be like putting my resume together for Walter, which would somehow feel like putting on a prom dress for a date with a goat.
January 11th, 2007 at 10:08 pm
Wow, Flamer, who would have thought, get the license plate number!
Except the cops had covered up the plates.
January 11th, 2007 at 10:13 pm
Yeah. Imagine how embarassed we are for not going over to the tow yard to get the plate number that way, too. I mean, if a reporter had done that — and I’m not saying one did — old Walter would have come from the other side and called it a ghoulish act. So, it’s fortunate that we didn’t do it.
January 11th, 2007 at 10:17 pm
Wasn’t it Walter who got bent into weird, emotional shapes when we wrote a story about one his friends getting accused of nastiness only recently? And then he became confounded when it was quietly explained how that story was ferreted out? Ah, the many faces of Walter and his various desires.
January 11th, 2007 at 10:27 pm
Flamer, is Walter friends with that Fairy Fifield? Lover of little boys and girls?
Guess he got all pissy over you calling a spade a spade, (or perv) .
What would be a good “investigative” story? Hmmm, I know, go interview some new widow about the tragic death of her husband, or how about a bereaved mother?
Bet he doesn’t have the nads to call.
January 12th, 2007 at 12:53 am
well, if there’s a commotion on my street, flashing lights, crowds, rumors of stabbings, etc, I can lean off the porch and see Mark standing there…..
January 12th, 2007 at 12:59 am
I just checked the myspace site and there was a sign flashing:”1,000,000th viewer” !!! but I didn’t click on it. I don’t like clicking on those flashing thingys. So now what happens? DOes the next person get to be the millionth visitor?
January 12th, 2007 at 10:39 pm
Argh. I hate MySpace. I just see lots of people intent on gathering the most “friends”. Friends? Because they let you add themselves? Yikes.
Sorry, but I don’t buy it. How about actually meeting people? Have a meal with them, a drink with them, play hacky-sack with them.
But to base an opinion on on-line experiences is totally wrong.
Call me old school, but I still can’t figure out what all these people are talking about on their cell-phones while driving through town, or shopping at Wal-Mart.
Frankly, I don’t want to talk to anybody when I’m in my vehicle. Too many other distractions.
Myspace seems to be a “virtual” thing. In my mind virtual equals phony. Few are telling the truth.
January 12th, 2007 at 10:44 pm
AMEN…DAVE!! So…what the fluck is My Space anyway?
January 13th, 2007 at 12:36 pm
I haven’t tried myspace, except looking at the above refferred page. but I think I’m a lot more sociable online; people in person are too much trouble; I don’t have time to go out & eat & drink with you guys…….
& i do agree with dave about the phones, what’s there to talk about so much? sheez
January 13th, 2007 at 7:09 pm
Sorry, I’m a lover of myspace. Hell, Milo even has a myspace.
http://www.myspace.com/milotarr
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