Polar Bare

I didn't do well in Physics, but I remember enough about centrifugual and centripedal force that what I saw on my way home tonight didn't make any sense. There was a six car accident on the highway, a clear prototype of the  "fender bender pile up." But what was really odd was that all six cars were still in a perfect line in their lane, as if they were just frozen in time. Hoods were scrunched, air bags inflated, fenders hung by single bolts, wheels redesigned for roulette but all six cars were still in that perfect line. Maybe that's why all the drivers stood outside their vehicles just staring rather than getting off the highway during drive time. Those stuck behind them didn't seem interested, or the least bit amused by this fluke of nature.  I luckily was going the opposite direction and had more time to reflect on what I saw. I'm going to have to remember this incident to share with my journalism classes.

I have this little list of sayings I've coined I arrogantly call Paul's Proverbs.  This straight line fender bender fits right in with, "The Real News is Always at least a  Block Away."  Anybody could jump in to the "5 W's" and factually report the six car accident on the highway.  But the real news was a block away where, first of all,  the huge back up manifested itself. And the real news from my perspective was this scientific anomoly with the straight line.  That's what's going to make the story memorable.

My advice is sure, go to the news conference. But get out of there as fast as you can, get at least a block away, and then talk to the people who have some special perspective or are truly affected by what's being said at that news conference. That's going to be the real news. 

One of my favorite illustrative stories takes place every New Years Day. Every media outlet within a hundred mile radius shows up at this reservoir where some crazy people looking for their 15 minutes of fame, dress up in predictable minimalist outfits, cut a hole in the ice, and jump in.  They shake, they shutter, they splash water on each other, and then they all get out and run and jump into a provided hot tub. Every photographer, every reporter, every journalist shows the same pictures, tells the same story, year in and year out. There are so many journalists most of them end up in each others video, or still shots.  I'm really not being critical. None of us want to be working on New Years day. "Let's get it done and get out of here."

 But the second year I got assigned to the "Polar Bear Club" event I just wanted to do something different. The photographer and I looked around for something that would give us a little different perspective. A little over a block away? There they were, five ice fisherman, all bundled up, looking incredulous at these near naked humans jumping into ice water. That's where we took our camera. That's where we placed our microphones. That's where we got soundbites like, " I wonder if those people know what ice water does to your scrotum." I think we actually somehow got that soundbite on the air. If I were to give the story a theme that day I would steal from Scottish Poet Robert Burns who wrote a bit of an ode to a "Louse"( singular of Lice if you've lost track).  Let me toy with his Scottish Phraseology a bit, and translate his words in that poem to, "Ah to see ourselves as others see us."

I wouldn't say the Ice Fisherman story would or should change the world of journalism as we know it today.  But I will say to anyone already in this business, and pining to start enjoying it again?  Look at least a block away. It's always (I've tested it) there.  It's really fun.  And it gives you something to do if you're stuck in traffic.