God, the media is dumb

When I worked in small-town journalism, I hated being known as the reporter. This was mostly because I hated being conspicuous and just wanted to seep into the background unnoticed. Sometimes, it seemed, I couldn't go to the bar or Safeway without being recognized and sucked into a long-ass conversation. Other times, I was 'that faggot sports kid' hanging around the high school jocks waiting for a 16-year old Young Future Cement Mixer to drop me a nugget of knowledge on The Big Upcoming Game. In either case, I had the attention and I didn't want it.

I'd love to have that problem now I'm in the big-city game. Now, people act as if I barely exist. This extends to sources at City Hall or companies, people I meet in the street, people on the Muni, and even asshole high school kids. No phone calls returned, no e-mails read, no respect. I'm just some jackass with a notebook -- I don't even have a fucking press pass (more on that later).

Sometimes, though, I see how the prominent, legit media act -- and it doesn't matter so much anymore.

Last week, PG&E staged a media cavalcade for a rescue of some cute baby falcon chicks stuck underneath the Bay Bridge. Aww. But Mistah Birds, they dead, and the following melodrama ensued.


Ok, are you seeing this?That's three radio outlets, six (six!!) tv outlets, the Associated Press, two SF Chronicle photogs -- and my ass.


Seriously.

Quote of the morning was from an unnamed handsome, svelte broadcast journalist, whose production team mercifully cut the following nugget of brilliance:

In Gravitas voice: "It's actually... kind of.... in a way.... sad... isn't it?"

Now that's NEWS!