I like my news like I like my coffee

For a while I dated a guy who was a coffee snob. At first it was exciting. I learned about single origin, bean washing, organic blends, French presses, V-60 (not a venereal disease as originally suspected), espresso vs. expresso and why the water temperature has to be just so to extract the full flavor from every possible angle of a coffee ground.

Eventually his snobbery made it impossible to drink coffee from any shop EXCEPT those he deemed worthy, of which Starbucks was not on the list, and they were all at least 30 minutes from my house. So I stopped being excited.

Here’s the truth: I like my Mr. Coffee. I buy good beans, I grind enough for just one cup so it’s fresh and flavorful. But I’ll be damned if it takes me 20 minutes to get a cup of coffee ever again.

 

Lately I’ve noticed this is how I feel about my news.

Writers like to read and critique other writers. We gain immense satisfaction in pulling apart crappy reporting. Sadly, in the past 5 years, there has emerged a trend that crap wins. It’s all crappy reporting. It’s stupid, overdramatic, un-researched drivel.

I used to troll my favorite online sites, read magazines -- hell I even read the paper. And then I stopped. It was exciting for the first 15 years of my career. Now it just makes me sad.

I used to say, “When I was in journalism school, I learned how to research and fact check.” Now my expectations are that there is NO research or fact checking in the mainstream media. Any sign of a legitimate, fact-checked, well-researched article is like finding that whole bean that when ground and brewed has the perfect caramel/chocolate/nut taste with no bitterness, that when sipped makes you sigh and think, “damn that is good.”

This week I notice I read the way I like my coffee: I want a round story, a fluid tone with a hint of meaty reporting. NPR tells me stories. The Atlantic gives me that bold research. Gluten Free Girl steams with the best recipes. Bookslut delivers smart, tart book reviews. Rolling Stone grinds down the music. And there’s music. And music. And so much more music. 

My source for all of this, I’m not ashamed to say, is Twitter. As a writer, I should feel some contrition for using social media as a news feed. I should value my industry more and spend the time reading long articles about the failure of the Affordable Care Act website. But I don't. 

So I can sip, while I sip and Mr. Coffee percolates and my mornings are so much better now.

Taking time to make time

I read an interest piece on the Huffington Post recently (and yes, DG, I know she is insane) about the effects of social media.

Through the general evolution of my career, social media, and the manipulation thereof, have come front in center. I can tell you how to use Twitter, Facebook and Youtube to drive business to your Web site. It's my job to know that.

But I also know that the paradox of "social" media is that actually negates much of your social time.

For example, I have a friend who claims he can spend hours on Facebook. Doing? Good question. Looking through photos of others, taking a myriad of quizes. I have no idea. Is it possible? Apparently. Is it healthy? Doubtful.

A large portion of my life revolves around the folly of others. The other 50 percent is the idiocy of my own life. I've nicked my nipple shaving my legs, dyed my hair purple, taught a toddler to cuss, walked face first into a glass door and fallen down any manner of steps, curbs, hills and ladders. I don't need Facebook to entertain me.

The little idioscyncracies that make people unique are inherent in the joy of actually knowing them, talking to them, watching them trip up the stairs and then laughing manically after you make sure they aren't hurt. Social media removes that.

All that is left is the veneer of a glossy photo from 20 years ago that hides the imperfections and the enlightened well-researched literary quotes that supposedly encapsulates the very essence of your personality.

If that is the case, then my quote is "fucked up, but still worth the time." But I am going to stick with the glossy photo, cause my hair in the morning... damn.