A regret of the job

This week, I've been dealing with one of the major regrets of my job – meeting wonderful people when it's too late. Friday, I sat in a courtroom and heard from family and friends about what a wonderful kid Ricky Bird was. His life was cut tragically short by a drunk driver in June. And, today, I'll attend the funeral of Jennifer Kois and learn more about the special person she was. Jennifer, a BHS grad, and her boyfriend were killed last week near Grand Junction (pardon me while I leave some of my unbias at the door) by a man who had no business behind the wheel of a vehicle and should have already been rotting in a prison cell (thank you). Wonderful people that, until their deaths, never graced the pages of our newspaper. I also handle the obits for our papers so, many weeks, I get a double dose of guilt. Reading about people who lived amazing, full lives that we never heard about either. I know we can't get to everybody but I can't help but feel as a community paper, we should be getting to a few more. We shouldn't only have to hear about good people when bad things happens to them. Oh, and on that funeral note, if you think it's morbid to treat a service as a media event, well, I tend to feel the same. But, lately, I've started to find the middle ground. It's important to share the stories of these people's lives. It's the least we can do. So, my offer to you, is send us the unique stories of the great people you know. Maybe we can start getting to a few more.

Probably the end

Yesterday's release of a final report on the shooting at Platte Canyon High School last fall essentially ends what happened there from a criminal and investigative standpoint. Sure, we'll still hear the echoes of what happened that day and there will probably be memorials and retrospectives. Obviously little is over for the familes and victims of that day. But, for all intents and purposes, done. And the family of the lone fatality, Emily Keyes, as they have done since the outset of this tragedy, continue to impress me with their strength and courage. They released a statement upon the release of the report yesterday.
"The best people did the best of things. The outcome could have been far more grave. We as a
family know this and appreciate this," they said.
And some part of me can't help but still think the families of many of the Columbine victims could learn something from them. I'm still bitter about the Columbine aftermath. Bitter that emptiness and sickness I felt after that day was slowly replaced by a feeling of apathy and disgust by the families running the media routes, pointing fingers of blame in five different directions all at the same time, polishing off their lawyers business cards – I, I, I. Granted, Columbine incurred a larger loss of life. But a young life is a young life lost, right? And, then
I look at the Keyes family – gracious even in its darkest hour. I keep waiting for them to change – pop up with a lawyer and sue the school district for lax security measures. I'm starting to doubt it. Maybe it's the environment – the close knit community of Bailey versus the manifest destiny of Littleton. I'm not sure. All I know is seven months after Columbine I was numb, ready not to hear another word about it. But, today, my heart still aches for the Keyes family and I don't see an end in sight.

R.I.P. from the headlines

May I be so pretentious as to say "our long national nightmare is over." After weeks of speculation, we now know how Anna Nicole Smith died. Everybody who had accidental drug overdose in the office pool meet me by the water cooler later to divy up. For those who went with Bush administration/Martian conspiracy – tough break. My first inclination is that someone should really have talked to this family about the dangers of Methadone. Buy, I'm not going to harp on that. I know I'm on borrowed time, you all lost interest in Anna Nicole about 10 years ago. I tend to laugh at the thought of an accidental overdose – it seems to be as likely as accidentally throwing a TV from the third floor window of a college dorm or accidentally getting married. And I can't say I'm not relieved that we have come to a conclusion. A lot of good celebrity news has fallen by the wayside while we dealt with this issue. I bet you totally missed that bald Britney got out of rehab or Angelina Jolie adopted a Tibetan Springer Monkey. I'm kidding about the last one – that's next week, you didn't miss it.

Everybody gets a voice

Got a letter from an inmate at the Adams County Detention Facility last week. Apparently, he filed a grievance because he felt they were wasting money leaving security flood lights on at the jail for all hours of the night. He felt it was a waste of energy My first instinct was to quip "Yeah, why don't they take down those unsightly fences too!" But my gallows humor has given way to a sort of renewed respect for our right to speak. Yes, even in jail (albeit his grievance was responded to with a polite but terse reply that it wasn't going to change) folks have the right to air their concerns. Amazing!

Call to action

Thursday night at a town hall meeting Wiggins, Bob Sakata, a well-known Brighton farmer and elder statesman of Colorado agricutural, made an impassioned plea to Gov. Ritter to repeal current Colorado Water Law as farmers continue to grapple with the issues of well being shut off and how they will still farm their land. Look for more in the March 28 Brighton Blade.

Book him, Kevo

Hey, we've been getting some feedback in the form of Web site comments, e-mails and phone calls on a story in yesterday's Blade about two sisters (18 and 15) who had babies nine hours apart at PVMC. I expected to get some feedback when I wrote this story. In a way, it's reassuring. Obviously, people have a genuine concern that babies stay babies until there of a rightful age to have babies of their own. But some concern has been levied at the paper because some people don't even think this was news. From a general sense, no, these two sisters having babies so close together is not earth shattering but it is a unique story. As for the insinuation that we're somehow promoting teen pregnancy or championing these sisters for getting pregnant young – I don't really buy that. Do we set limits on what we write yes. Would I write a story about a convicted sex offender selling candy to children in the park? OK, bad example, I would. Yes I would but the attempt wouldn't be to write it in a uplifting, heartwarming way. But the last thing, I want to be is the morality police – judging people's actions – trying to purvey to you what they've done wrong. In this case, I can't help but just feel like 'It is what it is." I know these girls have a lot of support from their family and friends. Hopefully, they will raise two wonderful little girls.

Backseat driver

It's been about 10 seconds since I've heard ... wait, here comes another one, about some state or community wishing to ban use of cell phones in vehicles. As one of the maniacs who occassionally veers toward the center line when he dials (you should see me text message), I can't say I completely disagree with the banning of cell phones in cars. As a journalist, it would be hard to part with my vehicular cell phone responsibility. Because, as I received my journalism education, I was encouraged to always drive up to any assignment talking on my cell phone – thus giving the appearance of importance and that I may be talking deadlines with my editor or getting filled in with late-breaking news. While, in reality, I'm usually being scolded by my wife for not picking up dog poop in the backyard or being reminded to pick up bread at the store. But I worry about the added burden on police officers to pull people over for talking on cell phones plus the hassle. "Officer, I'm talking on the cell phone, could you please just give me the ticket quicklike so I can move. It's an important call ... no, I'm not going to hang up. Owww, you can't arrest me ... I'll have to call you back."
So as a compromise, instead of banning cell phones, which I think would send the wrong messages to kids wanting to be journalists (Hi, Brooklyn, Daddy loves you) why don't we just ban use of cell phones in the front seat. Then, (if you're not Dikembe Mutombo) you would be forced to pull over and make your call. And, let's face it, cops would have a much easier time trying to find somebody trying to talk on their cell phone and drive from the backseat at the same time! Ta-Dah!

Let thine donate thy stuff and forsake what thou stuff is

Okay, IRS, you've really done it now. Thanks to new restrictions, I can no longer just give stuff away to Goodwill or ARC or RUFF (Really Ugly Furniture Foundation), I must now document it in detail lest I face an audit. Gone are the days when a blank receipt from MOOMPS (Monkeys Outraged over Misdemeanor Prison Sentences) would suffice. Why can't we just leave well enough alone? Can't you just trust that I'm giving a honest donation to WIFFO (Women Interested In Finding Football Odors). You know whose going to really suffer? The non-profits who collect this stuff. I heard a news report last night recommending you photograph the items you are donating. Are you kidding? Now I'm really going to think twice before I donate my crusty old pairs of boxer shorts to PEEPOU (Puppies Encouraging Enthusiastic Parting Of Underwear) because that's just not something that should be digitally preserved. Once again, the small people will be hurt. I dread having to say no when SCROG (Scooters Courting Really Old Grandmas) calls and asks if I have items to leave on my front porch). Call your Congressman, call your uncle, we must do something. I can't stand to see great organizations like SSIDR (Sisters Stuck in Dressing Rooms) fall by the wayside.

It's a bird, it's a plane

This is Airbus's new superjumbo jet. It has a wingspan wider than a football field and space for more than 500 passengers. The A380 is making its first flight to the United States today in New York! This is ridiculous. It's 2007, I thought we were supposed to have flying cars by now. Here's a guess, I bet the bathrooms are exactly the same size.

First on scene

My sister (an aspiring medialite and the best darn barista in the Denver area) was sharing with me last night how a Denver TV news crew was first to a fairly serious accident outside her coffee shop yesterday. We were debating how soon is too soon for the media to show up at an accident. In this case, that's probably too soon. Because, unless you're the sleazy British paparzzi, you then have an obligation to help people involved in the accident. Then, you become part of the story and then what the hell are you reporting. My preference for covering an accident (weeklies aren't normally big ambulance chasers) is to arrive quickly and hang back to let emergency personnel do their job. I just can't be a hypocrite. I get so annoyed when I can't write a story because a cop or firefighter is hogging my computer. What do you think? Does the media cross the line?

Past, present firefighters make push for Schissler

Both retired and current Brighton firefighters voiced their support at last night's regular Greater Brighton Fire Protection District board of director's meeting for current Acting Fire Chief John Schissler to be named the new fire chief. They cited his more than two decades of service to the district and the way he has handled the interim position as reasons why. The district is in the midst of a nationwide search to find a new chief and hopes to have someone in place by the first week of June. Look for more on the meeting in the March 21 Brighton Blade.

Dreamweaver

I had a dream the other night I was buying potato soup on a New York City street corner. Okay, okay, it doesn't have the same impact of Martin Luther King Jr. or even the prophecy delivered long ago to my Dad in a dream forewarning of "three bangs and a wall of water." We determined it meant either Cherry Creek Dam was going to burst or the toilet was going to break. I'm still collecting plungers. What does my dream mean? You tell me. Here's what I recall, I originally asked the burly street vendor, who was behind a counter so huge I felt like a midget, for chicken noodle soup. But he misheard me, and said "Chicken Nugget? We don't have it." I then asked for potato soup but he cast me a werid glance – I think it's because the menu actually said potato salad. He then asked me what year I graduated – I think this is because for some reason, I was wearing my high school letterman's jacket. Odd, because I never had one. You can't letter in newspaper production. Maybe it was my wife's. What happened next? The baby started screaming and I woke up. The weirdest part? I was apparently buying the soup so I could pour it on New York City streets so I wouldn't slip and fall. Counterintuitive? You bet!
I can usually piece together pieces of my actual life to substantiate my dreams. In this instance. My sister is traveling to New York this week to see a Broadway play - thus the NYC connection. My mother recently met up with an old friend who is now a custodian working at the high school where I graduated from. Thus the graduation question and possibly the secret identity of the soup vendor. Why did I need to pour it on the street – maybe you can help. Isn't it crazy how our minds work? Any crazy dreams you can recall?

No longer a victim

My first thought after the interview this morning on the Today Show with the student who had a sexual relationship with former Brighton Charter School teacher Carrie McCandless – something doesn't jive. We'll get to that in a minute. First a minute of soap box preaching on how annoying it is when the media goes out of their way to publicly protect someone's identity (because he's a juvenile) and then he shows up on national TV. I won't use his name here because I don't want to be behind the publicity push for what is destined to be a Lifetime movie. Early suggested title – "The Eagle has landed." What bothers me about this morning's interview is the victim's (cough, cough) mother contending they complied with their son's wishes not to initially report the relationship because he was adamant about protecting the teacher. But the mother also mentions her outrage.
From an NBC story about the interview.
"The whole thing turned on him like it was his fault," Sheree Clay said. "We send our kids to school to be taught ... It's just wrong that a teacher would that. It shouldn't be acceptable."
The family's attorney, Gary Fielder, added, "We are talking about an older person in a position of power and responsibility manipulating a child into thinking that this child wanted sexual contact."
Don't get me started on the lawyer. But are the inmates running the asylum here? So outraged, it's so wrong and yet you held off reporting it to the police? Are you kidding me? If my kid comes to me with that, I'm going to the cops, I don't care if he never speaks to me again.
There's a risk in doing the media thing – plastering your face all over the TV. And I think this teen cashed in his victim card today. Though Carrie McCandless still needs to be rightfully punished for what happened (because she's in a position of power), this now seems about as consensual as it could get.
I know you're out there. What do you think? Let me know.

Is there an impersonator in the house?

NEWS FLASH: Douglas County Sheriff's deputies are looking for an impersonator. Oh, but not just any impersonator. This gentleman popped up last Wednesday – pretending to be a Comcast employee. My first thought – was he trying to cover up that he was late? There are impersonators galore out in this world – perhaps the most scary are the kooks pretending to be cops. It's the first I've heard of Comcast impersonations which brings to mind a lot of other professions that aren't being impersonated. Anybody out there pretending to be a garbage man? I have to think impersonators (Elvis excluded) are an outgrowth of reality TV life – maybe people just looking for an escape – to step out of their ordinary lives. You know what else you don't hear much about people impersonating reporters – Too hard, too easy? Discuss.

Music debate ready to roar

Get ready for the debate over what kids listen to to heat up again. Today's Rocky had an article about how the teen suspects in two recent murders (including the death of a Dacono City Councilman's son) were fans of the Insane Clown Posse. This debate is nothing new. In college, I watched a documentary on two kids (I think in Texas) who tried to kill themselves with shotguns (one succeeded) after listening to Judas Priest. And ICP's vengeful, violence-filled lyrics are nothing new, there some was some speculation that the Columbine killers were influenced by them as well. I don't know how much I buy this debate. Blaming murder on music seems like an cop out to me. But there is little question that our kids are influenced to at least some degree by what they listen to or watch. We slapped warning labels on CDs but iTunes opened a whole world of music listening. What do you think ? Is music making or kids murder?

Men, this is what we've been waiting for

In this dark time of no NFL football, a light at the end of the tunnel comes from a Duke University student. This could be the biggest thing since the remote control.

Raleigh, N.C. - When John Cornwell graduated from Duke University last year, he landed a job as software engineer in Atlanta but soon found himself longing for his college lifestyle.
So the engineering graduate built himself a contraption to help remind him of campus life: a refrigerator that can toss a can of beer to his couch with the click of a remote control.
"I conceived it right after I got out," said Cornwell, a May 2006 graduate from Huntington, N.Y. "I missed the college scene.
It embodies the college spirit that I didn't want to let go of." It took the 22-year-old Cornwell about 150 hours and $400 in parts to modify a mini-fridge common to many college dorm rooms into the beer-tossing machine, which can launch 10 cans of beer from its magazine before needing a reload.
With a click of the remote, fashioned from a car's keyless entry device, a small elevator inside the refrigerator lifts a beer can through a hole and loads it into the fridge's catapult arm. A second click fires the device, tossing the beer up to 20 feet - "far enough to get to the couch," he said.
Is there a foam explosion when the can is opened? Not if the recipient uses "soft hands" to cradle the can when caught, Cornwell said.
In developing his beer catapult, Cornwell said he dented a few walls and came close to accidentally throwing a can through his television. He's since fine-tuned the machine to land a beer where he usually sits at home, on what he called "a right-angle couch system." For now, the machine throws only cans, although Cornwell has thought about making a version that can throw a bottle. The most beer he has run through the machine was at a party, when he launched a couple of 24-can cases.
"I did launch a lot watching the Super Bowl," he said. "My friends are the reason I built it. I told them about the idea and hyped it so much and I had to go through with it." A video featuring the device is a hit on the Internet, where more than 600,000 people have watched it at metacafe.com, earning Cornwell more than $3,000 from the Web site.
Cornwell said he has talked to a brewing company about the machine, but right now only one exists. Asked if he might start building some for sale, he said: "I'm keeping that option open, depending on interest." When Cornwell was a student at Duke he participated in the engineering school's robotic basketball contests, said mechanical engineering Professor Bob Kielb. He said students tried to build a robot that could retrieve a pingpong ball and toss it into a small hoop.
"He always did well in it," Kielb said. "He came up with completely unique ideas."

Money talks so citizens have to hollar

I, as I'm sure many of you, have been following the ongoing NASCAR debate in Commerce City. It's hard to ignore hundreds of people trying to crowd into one room and tell City Councilors what they think. But one thought tossed around is what is the fuss right now – a proposal on a track hasn't even been made yet. I'll tell you what the fuss is. And don't bring me down on one side or the other of this, I don't want a race track in my backyard but I've sat through too many a public meeting to hear one more cry of "My property values are going to .... yada, yada, yada." I honestly believe if somebody walks by your house and sneezes, you just lost a grand – different soapbox, different day.
If residents don't raise a stink now about this now – they don't have a prayer. If they wait until an agreement is on the table they might as well be trying to talk Britney back into rehab – ain't gonna happen. Yes, city goverment is for the people, by the people (Bartender, another round of Yada's) but cities see $ signs. They see a giant race track bringing lots of people to town and lots of moolah! They don't see the giant diesel fumes wafting over Reunion's Big Red Barn – that's the job of the residents. So criticize the anti-NASCAR people all you want, as being premature and over eager to shoot this proposal down. But, for these folks, its speak now or forever hear the roar of engines.

The view up here

Sometimes it's easier to relate to somebody if you can see where they stand or, in this case, sit. Yes, indeed, this is my desk and where I spend far too much time. A brief tour: To the far left is my Dwight Schrute bobblehead (Watch The Office on NBC – hilarious). He's standing on my alarm clock – I snooze about 2 p.m. – it's right in front of my fancy phone –my key to the world and all the big news. Just to the right of that is my mess of technological stuff that is really cool. It includes my cell phone, a digitial recorder, my video Ipod, two USB cables (one for a camera, one for the iPod). Wait, that's not all, it's all on top of my Mini Mac. You can't miss my larger-than-life computer monitor but on top of it is a bottle of honey (don't ask), a box of tissues and a small trophy statue that when positioned the right way looks very inappropriate. To the right is my calendar – I normally use it to acknowledge that I missed yesterday's appointments. Just below that is a candy dish I swiped from the bosses' office. It's empty now so I'm considering returning it. Above my calendar are some documents that just seemed way to important to bury under the cesspool of other important documents on my desk. Oh yeah, there's some inspirational articles too that I read when I needed to be reminded why I didn't take a job as a computer software engineer. And, since I know you're going to ask, that big hairy blob in the background above my monitor is a scary Halloween mask because you never know when you're going to be called in to do some Dateline undercover work.

Preview

Happy Monday all, I know an oxymoron but just run with it. Mondays and Tuesdays are crazy for me as I help layout two of our papers. Consider privileged that I even have time to shoot off this little note. And if you ever call on one of these days and have the sneaking suspicion that I'm listening to you but not really listening ... well, just know that somewhere your information is being stored and will be retrieved when necessary. I'll try to use Monday as a chance to preview what will be in the coming week's paper so you know what to look for. But not too much info – just a teasing TV news lead-in where they lead you to believe toasters may be taking over people's homes and leading an industrial revolt only to find out that you shouldn't try and stick a whole loaf of bread into your toaster. Duh! Brighton's grappling with a massive graffiti outbreak over the past couple months but police are making some good progress and the fire department board is struggling to make the best use of their mill levy money especially in terms of buying new fire trucks. And we'll have some more info on that explosion at an auto shop over the weekend.

Not so bad after all

I can't help but think back this morning to the moans and groans of frustration after that series of snowstorms hit Colorado beginning in early December. Roads were virtually impassable - leaving many of us confined to our homes for at least a copule days with (gasp) our families. We weren't sure how we'd manage especially with all that last-minute Christmas shopping left to do.
Reality Check.
It now all seems pretty trivial as I think of the folks dealing with the aftermath of a swath of killer tornadoes across the Southeast United States yesterday. People dead, families torn aparts, lives shattered. We're pretty lucky here - the weather natural disasters are few and far between and rarely deadly. I'm keeping those people of places like Georgia and Alabama in my thoughts today.

The good, the bad and the ugly

The media takes a lot of criticism for only reporting the bad news. We hear it a lot that we bury the good news and focus only on the bad. I always like to believe news is news – good or bad. When I have a positive upbeat story to share – that's fun. When crime happens or a difficult issue is at hand, the chance to report on those situations gets my blood bubbling too. Does the bad news trump the good? Possibly. But I think it comes down to a line of responsibility. We could sugarcoat the news and only bring you happy, chipper stories of girl scouts helping firemen save cats from trees. But this is life and things aren't always rosy – sometimes bad things happen. As a newspaper, reporting on those items is part of a job too – a public responsibility. Do you think we find the balance? What do you want to see more of in the newspaper?