How news stories get mangled

Scene in a Greenwich Village basement:
FBI Agent No. 1 looks at watch, sees it's half past noon.
FBI Agent No. 1 to FBI Agent No. 2: Have you eaten?
FBI Agent No. 2: Yes.
Lurking New York Post reporter, whips out cell phone, makes call: BOSS, they found Etan's remains!!!
New York Post: EXCLUSIVE: Etan Found!!!

Hey Jeremy, What's the Story?

Back in the daze, the newspaper I worked for had a financial columnist who shall remain nameless but who considered himself an expert, if you will, on mutual funds. So much so that when his son turned 16, did he give his son the keys to a used Volkswagen Bug? On the contrary, he gave his son shares in a mutual fund. I'm sure he told his son "You'll thank me someday."

Said son became a poet whose body of work included numerous references to women's private parts. Whether he thanked his father for those shares in mutual funds I don't suppose we'll ever know. But I was thinking about this financial columnist because on occasion he would use the term "contrarian" to describe a certain type of investor.

I've always considered myself a bit of a contrarian when it comes to writing headlines. Take Jeremy Lin for, oh no, I can't stop myself, Stop! Stop! Whoa, Nellie! for Linstance (slapping self in face), Okay, take a deep breath now, and continue, every headline writer east of the Mississippi has been squeezing every last bit of pulp outof that three-letter name, but how many headlines describing the exploits of the New York Knicks basketball sensation have you seen playing off his first name, Jeremy? That's right. None. So if there are any sports copy editors reading this, I dare you to write a headline like Mamma Jeremy-a, Knicks throttle Pistons, instead of the obvious "Knicks throttle Pistons but Jeremy plays like belly button Lin(t)."

Not to mention, Jeremy is a safe headline word, whereas Lin is a veritable minefield of opportunities to offend a whole culture, as some poor shmo who worked his way up from being an intern at ESPN found out. So why don't more headline writers use it? I imagine it's because they don't want to get fired. Now where did I put that share of a mutual fund? Oh, it's in my Linvestment portfolio (smacking self in face again).

Quick quiz

The following two headlines today were found on the web site of:

a) the National Enquirer
b) the News of the World
c) CNN

• Toddler found with mouse in mouth  
• Mom with 2 uteruses gives birth  

'Pirate of the Pacific' comes full circle

The crew of the USS Kidd (DD661) hoisting the jolly roger (photo from USSKidd.com)

 

 

When I'm not writing headlines and introducing typographical errors into captions ("Hello, Mister Caption, I'd like you to meet somebody whose name is about to be misspelled), I lead a double life as a World War 2 historian. And when the USS Kidd recently captured a bunch of Somali pirates and freed some Iranian fishermen, the name USS Kidd rang a bell.

Initially I thought it might have been one of the destroyers that came in close to Omaha Beach on D-Day and shelled the German pillboxes, but a quick Google search revealed I was wrong about that. That was the USS Frankford, which some veterans of the 299th Combat Engineer Battalion I interviewed more than a decade ago credited with turning the tide, no pun intended, on Omaha Beach. A tank on the beach would fire a smoke or a white phosphorous shell at a target overlooking the beach so that the Frankford and another destroyer could zero in on it with their bigger guns. The other destroyer, however, was not the USS Kidd, which was in the Pacific at the time.

It turns out, however, that the name USS Kidd really did ring a bell. The very newspaper I work for, the Bristol Press (and its sister paper the New Britain Herald), had an article on Dec. 8 of last year about a ceremony at the VFW post in Bristol in which a bell from the USS Kidd that someone donated was dedicated and was rung in memory of the attack on Pearl Harbor. Making the ceremony even more poignant was the fact that the Kidd was named after Rear Admiral Isaac C. Kidd, who perished on the bridge of the USS Arizona.

Of course the USS Kidd that fought in many famous World War II battles was not the USS Kidd that freed the Iranian fishermen. The original Kidd is a floating museum in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. The latest Kidd is the third generation of the ship with that name, a grand Kidd, if you will. But going back to World War II, I learned first from Wikipedia and later from a visit to the ship/museum's web site that the original crew of the Kidd adopted the famous pirate Captain Kidd as their mascot, flew the jolly roger on their maiden voyage, and had a caricature of Captain Kidd painted on both sides of the forward smokestack. The ship became known, according to the museum web site, as "The Pirate of the Pacific," and its crew was known as "The Pirates of the Pacific."

Lest you think the crew was being disrespectful, this from the history section of the museum's web site:

"The KIDD's first voyage was one of some notoriety. Under the command of Cdr. Allan B. Roby, the destroyer moved across New York Harbor for delivery to the Brooklyn Naval Shipyards . . . flying the skull and crossbones of the Jolly Roger high from the foremast. The edition of TIME magazine that week carried a photo of KIDD, announcing that it had been one hundred years since the Jolly Roger had flown in New York Harbor. The crew quickly adopted the pirate Captain Kidd—who ironically hailed from New York—as their mascot and hired a local cartoonist to paint the famed buccaneer's image high on the forward smokestack.  Not wishing to dishonor RADM Kidd, however, the crew obtained permission from Mrs. Kidd first.  The Admiral's nickname at the Naval Academy hadbeen "Cap" (as in "Captain Kidd") and he had gone by this nickname his entire life.  So on the crew's behalf, Mrs. Kidd obtained official permission from the powers-that-be in the Navy for them to paint the pirate on the stack and fly the Jolly Roger.  The KIDD would become the only vessel in the history of the United States Navy to ever have such leave granted to fly the flag of piracy."

So in one of those bizarre twists of history, when the modern USS Kidd captured a group of Somali pirates, it was as if the Pirate of the Pacific had come full circle.

OMG, excuse me while I duck



Skylab

As I write this a rogue satellite is hurtling through the atmosphere and is expected to smash into earth, possibly somewhere in the United States, later tonight. Did I mention that in my high school yearbook I was selected as Most Likely to Be Struck By a Falling Satellite? I'll take my chances, especially since the satellite is far more likely to smash into Bayonne, N.J., birthplace of the real life Rocky whom the news web sites inform me I'll be hearing a great deal more about as an ESPN special and a movie about the "Bayonne Bleeder" come to fruition.

But I digress. What the plummeting parcel of space debris brings to mind, for me at least, is the sometimes cruel sense of humor newspaper people have. Rarely does a tragedy occur that doesn't find newspaper staffers sharing jokes about it within hours.

A case in point. In 1979, I had a supervisor who shall remain nameless but who had, shall we say, issues with his weight. I worked with this fellow for ten years at the New York Post before following him to the New York Daily News, and I'm not ashamed to say he was even a bit of a mentor. But he had a bit of an issue with his weight -- for instance, he went through a phase of bringing salads in to work, smothered in Russian dressing. He also had a daughter who, sad to say, had a bit of an issue with her weight.

And my often non-chubby colleagues, with their sharp journalists' senses, were all too keenly aware of this fellow's issues with his weight. When scientists and the wire services -- this was long before Twitter was a twinkle in its creators' eyes -- one of my colleagues, behind the rotund supervisor's back, where there was plenty of room (slapping myself in face), came up with the idea of appending the appellation "Skylab" to said supervisor's daughter.

The sports department, where I worked at the time, got quite a kick out of this, and it was all they could do in the days before Skylab actually fell to earth in Australia, to not mention the Skylab thing in front of him. So despite their sick sense of humor, I guess they had a touch of humanity as well.

While I'm dwelling on the past, I'd like to mention another newspaper tradition, one which has eluded me through the decades. Today was the last day at work for my colleague Sarah Johnson, who at the ripe old age of 27 (ok, not until tomorrow) is embarking on a solo entrepreneurial career. I got to thinking about how over the years I worked at three newspapers -- roughly ten years at the New York Post, another ten or so at the New York Daily News, and almost 20 at the Bergen Record -- with great, and I mean damn good great -- illustrators. My favorite of them all was Jerry Schlamp of the Daily News, but google him now and all you can find is a little schlampoon here and there. But it was a tradition at all three papers and I'm sure at many others, that when a longtime employee left, either the illustrator or in house cartoonist would make him or her a big cartoon and everybody would sign it.

Mind you, the only one of these I can remember was when a fellow left the Daily News to go to Hollywood where a friend of his was going to help him get a start in screenwriting, and Jerry Schlamp, at least I think it was Schlamp, made him a big cartoon of a fellow lying in bed next to a horse's head, with a scantily clad woman standing next to the bed saying something like "Now, about that screen test ..."

On a sadder note, when I was a clerk at the New York Post I had a colleague named Joe Marcus who at the ripe old age of 37 was still a clerk. I was 18 or 19, maybe 20. Joe was diabetic and missed a lot of work which meant I'd get called at all hours asking if I could come in and work. And then Joe came down with some kind of cancer and was hospitalized.

The Post's cartoonist made him one of these big get well drawings, I forget what the picture was but the word in the balloon was "Fuhgeddaboutit" -- Joe's favorite word. The cartoon sat in the office for three or four days because nobody went to go visit him who could deliver it, and in the meantime Joe passed away. The cartoon was given to his son. I would like to say it always haunted me that I didn't go visit him and bring him the cartoon, but the truth is I forgot about for many years until I got to thinking about this subject.

I left the New York Post following its purchase by Rupert Murdoch and I didn't get a cartoon. And I left the Daily News in a downsizing when so many people were leaving that almost nobody got cartoons, who knows, maybe the cartoonist left, no, he stayed on, but I didn't get one. And I left the Bergen Record with no cartoon in another mass downsizing.

Now, about that headline. Those, without the OMG, were the last words of a forward artillery observer in World War II. His son, Duane Richter of Thermopolis, Wyo., once placed an item in the newsletter of the 90th Infantry Division asking if anybody remembered his father. He got some 80 responses, including one from a veteran who'd been on the phone with Duane's dad when he spoke those words.

So excuse me while I get back under my desk until this darn satellite crashes to earth.

Art of headline writing is alive and, well ...

The art of headline writing is alive and, well, I'm probably shooting myself in the foot (owch! ooch!) but I'm going to say it: as hackneyed and uncreative as ever. If I had a nickel for every newspaper and blog entry that began with the headline "The Help cleans up at box office" I could buy passage on the first vessel to take members of the public into outer space, which is where I imagine my former employers would like me to be (oops, I almost forgot about that non disparagement clause).

Well, maybe I wouldn't have found that headline so bothersome -- I should note here that I have neither read the book nor seen the movie -- if numerous oral historians who've dealt with the subject addressed in "The Help" were not outraged by the stereotyping and language in the movie.

That said, it also could be that such a headline bothers me because it's what's known in headline writers' lingo as "a gimme." Okay, there is no such thing as headline writer's lingo, I just made that up. But it's still a gimme. I prefer to see a little more thought go into a head, like maybe "The Help sweeps into first ..."

"Help sweeps" why, that's as idiotic a head, I say, as idiotic a head as my Aunt Jenny's corn puddin'

OK, case in point, here we go. I googled "The Help cleans up" (I tried Bing, but the only thing that came up was "The Help is dreaming of a white Christmas...") and here's what came up:

"The Help cleans up after Spy Kids' trail goes cold ..." The Guardian (note: Spy Kids' trail goes cold. Clever)

"'The Help' cleans up" ... CNN.com

"The Help" finishes at top of box office ... Inside Movies/EW.com (good and straightforward, but it should be noted that a day earlier, according to google, EW.com's box office report noted: The Help cleans up with $20.5 million)

The Help cleans up at box office ... Chicago Sun-Times

The Help cleans up at the box office ... Hollywood.com

"Help moves upstairs with $20.5M ... weekend/accessatlanta.com (Moves upstairs, I like that)

Box office bloodbath: The Help cleans up ... thefilmexperience.net

The Help mops up competition ... moviefone.com (Give that headline writer a Nat Sherman cigar ... okay, okay, it's almost football season, and maybe that headline writer is a woman)

The Help cleans up at the box office ... Richmond Times-Dispatch

Movie review: The Help cleans up the South too much ... sltrib.com

Did 'The Help' Clean Up? ... eonline.com/news

Drama 'The Help' cleans up ... BBC News

"Fly me to the moon ..." (That's me, collecting my nickels)

There are several more pages of the same. Oh, wait ...

"Help" Beatles the competition ... I made that one up. Ten four, out the window (phweeeeee...THUD)

I say, you were supposed to throw the headline out the window, I say, not yourself. Looks like you done landed in my Aunt Jenny's corn puddin. That stuff is hard as a rock!

Arianna Huffington commits heinous, I say heinous, act



It's been said that the Internet is killing the newspaper industry. Alas and alack, I say, looka here, it certainly, I say looka here I say,  has contributed to the elimination of ink stains if not of ink stained wretches. Be that, I say I say, as it may, looka here I say -- excuse me, Mister Leghorn -- the Huffington Post is killing the craft of headline writing.

A little foreshadowing may be in order. Numerous entries ago I noted my confusion over a headline that included the name of a popular Christian music band that I had never heard of. A commenter noted that the band's name might have been included in the headline because someone searching the Internet might type in the band's name and be directed to the article; hence, increased visibility, I say I say.

Which brings me to Arianna Huffington, a.k.a. Huffington Shmuffington. Ever since the Huffandpuffpost was bought by AOL for several gazillion dollars, there has been a proliferation of headlines featuring the names of people and places that nobody has ever heard of, or if anybody had heard of them, they could neither spell nor pronounce them. Names like Anders Whatsisface Breivik and places like Svalberg.

I say looka here, what's in a name? In the sports department of a newspaper, a name is something to have fun with. A-Roid. An A-Bomb from A-Rod (okay, that's an announcer's appellation, but I love it anyway). The news desk, at least one on which I spent several years, tends to handle the names of people with a little more A-plomb. I can still recall some 15 to 18 years ago the debate that rivaled Lincoln-Douglas or Nixon-Kennedy over whether to identify Leona Helmsley by her first name in a headline. The editors begrudgingly yielded, and Leona became a staple of the headline writer's craft.

But a headline is supposed to tell a story, maybe entertain a reader, maybe entice some poor sap into reading a story that isn't worth reading. The message of the Huffpost is that none of the above is any longer applicable. The sole purpose of the headline is to tag a story and you better remember that or you can go back to the Podunk Tumbleweed instead of working for Her Huffingtonness.

Headline Guy cuts to chase

Allow me to cut to the chase. Just today, some examples:

Connecticut Babysitter Loni Bouchard Arrested For Allegedly Having Sex With 14-Year-Old

Loni who?


Rudolf Alexandrov, Chesnut Hill Adjunct Professor, Kills Himself In Front Of His Students


(Now looka, I say looka here, I just googled Rudolf Alexandrov, and guess what came up number 2, right behind the CBS News story which only identified him as a Philly professor in the headline)

James Moss Sentenced To Weekends In Prison For Putting Son In Oven


Alan Gross Trial: Cuba Upholds 15-Year Sentence


Here I am trying to help people write clever headlines when the trend is screw clever, tag the story in the headline and get an edge over the saps who only tag the story in the section that says "tags". Search engine optimization. Damn the headliner writer's creativity. I have seen the present and it sucks.