Break In At Obama’s Place

Drudge has it on his front page, though pretty far down the left side. The AP wrote it up nicely. A bit of trouble Friday night at Obama Headquarters in Iowa.

(AP) DAVENPORT, Iowa The Davenport, Iowa, campaign headquarters for presidential candidate Barack Obama was burglarized Friday evening.

Obama spokesman Tommy Vietor says two laptop computers and some campaign literature were taken. A campaign worker discovered the burglary this morning, and a report was filed with Davenport police.

Vietor says that it doesn’t appear that it was anything sensitive or irreplaceable was taken.

Hmmm…. where have I heard this before? Here’s the opening ‘graph’ of a story from the New York Times, June 17, 1972.

WASHINGTON, June 17 — Five men, said to have been carrying cameras, electronic surveillance equipment and burglary tools, were arrested shortly after 2 A.M. today after a floor-by-floor search that led to the executive quarters of the National Democratic Committee here.

Here’s a copy of the actual story that ran on page 30 in the Times and the text of the story that was on the front page of the Washington Post. Remember, we knew nothing else except there was a burglary in Larry O’Brien’s office at the Watergate (The image of the front page on the left is from two days later, June 19, 1972).

I doubt last night’s burglary was anything more than a burglary. The stolen laptops were probably the target.

On the other hand, Watergate also seemed like a meaningless burglary. Nixon was way ahead at the polls. He would end up winning the presidential election with 60% of the popular vote and nearly 97% of the Electoral College.

Why would CREEP (Committee to Re-Elect the President) even care what O’Brien did or did not know?

Just for a second, let’s make believe there was something politically evil going on Friday night in Iowa. Are there still Woodwards and Bernsteins in journalism? Are there Ben Bradlees and Katherine Grahams who would allow reporters to spend days and days pursuing leads which probably weren’t going to pan out? Few thought Watergate would be anything more than the 2-bit burglary it was.

I’m afraid I know the answer.

Corporate journalism, where publishers (and TV managers) answer to stockholders, not individual owners and where the cost of debt service has entered into the daily decision making process, has changed journalism in profound ways.

If 1972 happened in 2007, how much would we know?

Foolish Moves I’ve Stopped Making

I am an impatient driver. I drive too fast. Right turn on red was made for me.

I also take advantage of a little known law: “left turn on red.”

Stop laughing. I’m not kidding. Here’s what Wikipedia says:

In most areas of the United States, it is also legal to make some left turns on red. In all cases, the road being turned onto must be one-way. Making a left-turn on red from a two-way street is legal in only five states: Alaska, Idaho, Michigan, Oregon, and Washington. In Washington, freeway on-ramps are considered one-way streets for the purposes of the left turn on red law.

Pretty cool, huh? And, it makes sense. One way to one way left on red is no more perilous than right on red.

There’s one particular left on red I often make. It’s at the intersection of College Street and South Frontage Road (Rte 34) in New Haven. I’ve been doing it for years to the amazement of passengers, including my own skeptical family. It only saves a few seconds, but who cares? That’s not the point.

I happened to stumble upon an article about left on red tonight. It was serendipity… and being the ‘left on red’ man, I read along.

Left turns on red are prohibited in the states of South Dakota (unless permitted by local ordinance), Connecticut, Maine, Missouri, New Hampshire, New Jersey, North Carolina, and Rhode Island and in the District of Columbia and Guam.

Really?

I am so embarrassed! And, I am so relieved to learn about this by reading, as opposed to learning about it from a cop!

Delayed In MKE

I spoke to Helaine this morning. She was due back in Connecticut this evening around 6:30… until Midwest called. Mechanical problems, they said. Flight canceled.

The skeptic in me still looked to see the ‘equipment’ with the mechcanical problems will be flying passengers into Milwaukee before being pulled. I am always suspicious with airlines. Can I cancel my reservation for mechanical problems and suffer no consequences?

Helaine is much more gracious than I am, even when the reservations agent asked if she could fly to Newark (101 miles) or Washington (318 miles) instead of Bradley… where her car is?

Helaine explained the situation, so they booked her Midwest to Cleveland and Continental to Bradley. Neither the Midwest nor Continental flights are actually operated by those actual airlines. Again, can I fly under an assumed name without consequence?

With no Helaine, I have been left to my own devices. The pre-cooked food she left ran out last night. I have become needy with age, but even I can go to the grocery store – and I did.

Exactly who goes to Stop and Shop on Mother’s Day? I can’t say for sure, but it was jammed. I picked up my “Little Red Riding Hood” basket at the door and headed inside.

The losers were lined up in front of the Mother’s Day cards. Yikes! 2:00 PM on Mother’s Day and they still didn’t have a card? I joined them and began to search. I had already gotten Helaine a gift, so the card is more like icing.

Who am I fooling? It’s the card that’s important and the (in this case) peripheral that’s peripheral.

After picking up the cards and food I wanted, I moved over to the Dunkin’ Donuts stand. The girl behind the counter was scratching her arm as if she had psoriasis. Nice. Hope that rash clears. Thanks for sharing.

In a George Bush Sr. moment, I watched the guy in front me use a debit card to pay $1.80 for coffee and marveled. I have a credit card (only one) and no debit card. I’m so last century.

I pushed a $10 bill at “Itchy,” who handed me change and a receipt.

Do we really need receipts for coffee? Is someone going to return their coffee with cream and one Splenda?

At the automated checkout, I realized I don’t have a Stop and Shop card. Without it, everything is priced as if I were buying on Rodeo Drive.

I asked the guy in front of me if he would swipe his on my behalf. “No worries,” he said.

I’m home now. Helaine just called to update her progress. She hasn’t moved through security yet, but she’s confirmed on both flights. In a quirk of interairline weirdness, she’s got a handwritten paper ticket and no boarding pass on the Cleveland to Bradley leg!

Oh… and Midwest Airlines gave her a $75 flight voucher and another $8 for food. It’s little consolation, but as with everything on Mother’s Day, it’s the thought that counts.

Quick Prediction

There is a story bubbling beneath the surface on the Internet that I expect will break through as a very large story over the next few days. It will be a partisan story and I’d like to not get involved in that part here on the blog.

Here’s the setup. Whenever you send mail, it goes through a server. Usually that’s an SMTP or Simple Mail Transport Protocol server.

Many companies and government agencies keep copies of all the messages flowing through their SMTP servers. That’s how lawyers can later reconstruct paper trails during the discovery phase of lawsuits.

So far, so good.

Let’s say you wanted to send mail but not have it tracked. You could route it through a different SMTP server. In fact, mail from (as an example) geofffox.com and my other domains are usually sent through other servers as a matter of convenience. When I send mail for work from home, it also goes through these generic servers.

If my boss was tracking my work emails (which he is probably entitled to do) he wouldn’t have a copy of those.

It’s probably no big deal if I send mail that way. It is a big deal if government employees… White House employees… use other servers and therefore keep their emails out of the normal archive process.

From TrustMe.com:

…documents made public in the course of the U.S. Attorney Purge scandal reveal that key Administration figures used such email addresses ending with “gwb43.com.”

As Citizens for Ethics and Responsibility in Washington (CREW) notes:

CREW has learned that to fulfill its statutory obligations under the PRA, the White House email system automatically copies all messages created by staff and sends them to the White House Office of Records Management for archiving. It appears that the White House deliberately bypassed the automatic archiving function of its own email system that was designed to ensure compliance with the PRA.

I don’t know who or what side of the political spectrum CREW or TrustMe.com represent. I assume neither has a conservative bent.

Sometimes these things take a few days gain traction. As it is, TrustMe.com posted this three days ago. Or, maybe this is just some little thing blown way out of proportion and as a geek I’ve latched on to its ‘evil tech’ implications.

I’d like to think you heard it here first. Let me know, in the comments section, if this is already ‘a story’ and I just missed it?

The Saddest Part Of Life

My friend Harold’s mom died a few days ago. She had been sick for a long time. No one wants to see a parent, or anyone, go through that.

Helaine and I went to the funeral today at Temple Beth David in Cheshire. Tonight we made a shiva&#185 call at Harold’s house.

If it’s possible to attend a good funeral, this was it. Of course people were sad, but I suspect they did lots of their mourning while she was still alive.

This was a celebration of Pearl Kramer. I only met her a few times and hardly knew her. I learned so much more today when two of her sons and one of her granddaughters spoke.

She was educated – a college graduate when women college graduates were rare. She was valued, as she worked at the State Department in Washington during World War II. She was organized, a trait she passed on to my friend Harold.

What was said was more than sweet words. There was substance to these eulogies and her life.

She left behind a family that valued her love and guidance and wanted to make sure everyone understood that. Pearl would have been pleased to hear how she was characterized. Who wouldn’t?

The saddest part of life is, true love can only end in sorrow. Loved ones die.

There is no other way. To not love… to immunize yourself against the hurt that’s inevitable, is a fool’s errand.

&#185 – From Wikipedia: Shiv’ah (שבעה Hebrew: “seven”) is the name for Judaism’s week-long period of grief and mourning for the seven first-degree relatives: father, mother, son, daughter, brother, sister, or spouse. As most regular activity is interrupted, the process of following the shiv’ah ritual is referred to by English-speaking Jews as sitting shiva.

The Coolest Weather

My friend Bob, down in Florida, might be the smartest guy I know. Certainly, as far as math is concerned he is.

Bob is a professor at Florida State with a PhD from Penn State. He is also the proprietor of www.CoolWX.com. In meteorological parlance, WX is weather.

Last night Bob hit me on IM to look at an addition to his site: www.CoolWX.com/extreme.

I’m not sure how, but four times an hour he parses every station in the world that’s delivering weather data and then picks out the most extreme of the lot. Where is it hottest or coldest or windiest – right now!

I have been surprised at how few stations actually do report extreme weather, like heavy rain or blizzard conditions. And, I’m sure over time, there will be repeat observations from sites located in inhospitable spots, like Mt. Washington.

The site is still in development, but worth taking a look.

Abe Lincoln – Wired

I often listen to NPR while taking my shower. Today, on Talk of the Nation, Neil Conan spoke with Tom Wheeler who had an op-ed piece in this morning’s Washington Post and who also wrote the book, “Mr. Lincoln’s T-Mails: The Untold Story of How Abraham Lincoln Used the Telegraph to Win the Civil War.”

(I)nsight into our greatest president is possible through the nearly 1,000 messages he sent via the new telegraph technology. These 19th-century versions of e-mail messages preserve his spur-of-the-moment thoughts and are the closest we will come to a transcript of a conversation with Abraham Lincoln. In their unstructured form, Lincoln comes alive.

Are you kidding? Lincoln was our first president to communicate electronically. I guess he really was the Great Communicator.

This made Abraham Lincoln our first president with instant access to information. Imagine how that benefited him as he formulated our political and military strategy during the Civil War?

You owe it to yourself to read the op-ed column.

Oh, and Happy Birthday Abe.

Continue reading “Abe Lincoln – Wired”

Enjoying Football

Earlier today, the very sad Philadelphia Eagles beat Washington. it wasn’t on TV here. Disappointing.

Tonight Helaine parked herself in front on the TV to watch Dallas vs New Orleans.

My guess is the Cowboys could easily be named the most beloved and most reviled team in professional football. Neat trick.

The game was close early, but New Orleans poured it on to rack up a big lead. My friend Farrell, originally from New Orleans but now living in Palm Springs, sent me an email.

How bout my ‘Aints?

The fourth quarter has just begun and New Orleans continues the blow out. We couldn’t be happier.

I know it seems petty to root against a team year-after-year. We can’t help ourselves. It feels so good.

Amazing Technology

My friend Farrell is moving from Washington, DC to California. Currently, he’s somewhere close to nowhere – in New Mexico, just east of Gallup. There’s a lot of nothing in New Mexico. Some of it is beautiful nothing, but it’s nothing nonetheless.

Farrell and his wife, Vered, are driving cross country. Maybe I’m getting too old. I don’t hear of friends doing that anymore, as I did when I was in my twenties.

They left DC and headed to Memphis. From there it was off to Amarillo. Who knows how far they’ll get tonight before stopping and resting.

Here’s what makes this so interesting for me. We’ve been talking for much of the trip. Sometimes it’s on the phone. Mostly it’s on Instant Messenger.

Farrell has a Blackberry (aka – Crackberry) permanently affixed to his hip. So far, reception’s been good.

Between the Blackberry and satellite radio in the car, he has all the advantages of travel without the really awful parts – horrendous local radio and no communication.

He’s probably near one of the few places I was ever stopped for speeding. It was on I-40 in Quay County, NM. I was moving from Phoenix to Philadelphia, so 1975 sounds right.

I was stopped for doing 65 mph in a 55 mph zone. Of course, before the ‘gas crisis’ of the early 70s it was a 75 mph zone! Farrell tells me it’s a 75 mph zone again.

This October, Helaine and I will also be driving through New Mexico, Arizona and Nevada. My chats with Farrell have further gotten me in the mood.

I’m hoping there’s a statute of limitations, because I’m not sure I paid that speeding ticket.

My Creative Family

We are a very small family. Even then, I am only in touch with a smaller subset of my relatives. Outside my immediate family, my closest relative is Cousin Michael. He and his family live in California – in the OC.

Michael is our most educated Fox. He has a closet full of bachelor and masters degrees, plus a law degree and PhD.

When he was in high school, he wanted to be a farmer&#185. That’s not the normal career path for someone born within walking distance of the Flushing El, who could see the Empire State Building from the front steps of his Queens apartment building.

If I remember correctly (and he’s not shy about correcting) he then studied library science, and of course, law. I’m sure I’m leaving something out.

He ended up working for the federal government as a staff attorney for the Labor Board in Washington. I remember visiting his office in a government building so depressingly institutional, linoleum and green wall paint would have classed the joint up.

At some point in Washington, he got hooked on theater. I don’t know how that happened, because Michael and I were out of touch for many of those years, but he got the bug. Michael gravitated to directing.

Though he taught and occasionally did ‘lawyer work,’ directing was obviously his vocational passion.

I have never seen Michael’s work, but now I’ve gotten to read about it. His latest production, Samuel Beckett’s “Endgame” is in the midst of a short run in Santa Ana, CA.

The Orange County Register’s reviewer was very positive.

This could be some bizarre, post-nuclear world where everyone struggles for survival, or it could simply be the extreme result of societies that value ideologies or materialism over human life. The time, place and context are never specified because, as director Michael David Fox’s staging proves, Beckett’s ideas transcend such specifics, creating disturbing images while raising philosophical questions deeply troubling once dwelled upon.

Beckett means for us to dwell on these issues, and Fox and company oblige with a compact staging that, like “Godot,” can be achingly funny one moment, stark and bleak the next.

I wish I could pop on down to Southern California to see it. The show runs through May 20, Friday and Saturday evenings and a Sunday matin

Huskies Win – Guaranteed

In a few moments, UCONN plays Washington in the NCAA Tournament. That’s right, it’s the Huskies versus the Huskies!

This reminds me… Way back at my first job in radio (WSAR Fall River, Massacusetts), we carried the B. M. C. Durfee High School basketball games. They were called the Whalers.

That was also the nickname for the team from the high school in New Bedford. Their games were carried by our competition in New Bedford.

On game nights, when Durfee would play New Bedford, the Whalers would be winning on one station and losing on the other!

Doing Our Taxes

The distinguished looking man on the left is Mark Everson. You probably don’t know him. You’ve probably thought of him. He’s the Commissioner of the Internal Revenue Service.

Hey, Mark! I’ve just done my taxes. What exactly were you guys thinking?

I am a lucky guy. I make a good living. With few investments outside my home, cars, or retirement account, my taxes should be easy. After all, I’m an employee. I can’t deduct much of anything.

Even using an online service, it still takes hours! I tried to get it right. Can anyone be sure they did?

Don’t get me wrong. I’m willing to pay taxes to pay for government services and programs. Sure, I don’t agree with everything you guys in Washington/Hartford/Town Hall are doing, but I’ll pay my fair share. I just can’t seem to figure out what that is.

Why should doing my taxes be so stressful? Mark, are you with me?

The commish is probably a bright guy. He went to school here in New Haven at Yale. Yale is no guarantee of brightness (insert your own joke here since the last three presidents have gone to Yale), though it’s a reasonable reassurance.

Why can’t I, a former math team member, easily blow through this thing without worrying I’ve done something terribly wrong and will end up bunking with a former politician in Danbury, or worse? Why is it so difficult? Why is it so confusing?

Is there a reason you’ve got multiple forms, all named 1099? There’s 1099B, 1099DIV, 1099OID… I could go on. This is like George Foreman naming all his children George – and you know how we feel about that idea!

Then, there’s the question of money for Steffie’s college expenses. We were good parents and put something away when she was a little girl. Exactly how much did we originally invest in the late 80s? Uh – I’ll get back to you on that.

In the past, I’ve had relatives who worked backwards in their tax forms. In other words, they decided what they thought would be a fair amount for them to pay, then worked from there until the other numbers made that happen. I don’t do that.

I’m not looking to move my geofffox.com headquarters to the Cayman Islands or Bermuda. Should I? That really pretty yacht we saw in Cabo San Lucas, owned by a guy from Montana, flew the Cayman flag. Maybe he’s on to something?

A few years ago, Stanley Works, the tool company in New Britain, CT, tried to move its offices offshore. Lots of companies have. Even our cruise ship, Norwegian Caribbean’s, “Norwegian Star,” was registered in the Bahamas. That’s not part of Norway nor the US.

All I want is an easier tax system. Since none of the special exemptions I have to ponder are for me, you’ll probably have to tick off people with more influence than I have. C’mon Mark, you can do it.

Finally, am I being graded on spelling?

The Meisels Go Home To New Orleans

Back when Hurricane Katrina was threatening the Gulf Coast, I did my best to get Ruth Meisel out. The day she drove to safety up north was the last time she saw her home, until yesterday.

With her two adult children in tow, Ruth Meisel returned to New Orleans to see what could be salvaged and tie up loose ends. She will be among the tens, maybe hundreds of thousands, who will leave their homes and move elsewhere.

New Orleans is being abandoned, wholesale.

I asked her son, my friend, Farrell to type some of his thoughts so I could put them here in the blog. I’ll sprinkle a few of his photos here, though the best way to see them is in this slideshow.

Clean up goes on. 80% of the city was affected. Some parts of the city have begun to function, albeit at half speed. This area is still without electricity and is deemed unsafe. It’s expected that electricity won’t be restored in New Orleans East for six to nine months. My mother returned for the first time since the hurricane and subsequent floods, to survey the damage and see if anything could be saved. She’s suited up and ready to go inside. In the background, my sister, Cheri, ready to suit up, as well.

It’s nice… no, it’s amazing to see Ruth smiling.

Here’s my read. She could be distressed with what she’s about to see, or she could be happy to see she raised her children right, and they are accompanying and supporting her. She chose the latter.

My mother knew from earlier reports and a prior visit by my sister, that things didn’t look so good. She’s been very optimistic and hopeful, looking forward and giving us much encouragement. My mother’s house survived the storm on the outside, but the inside looked and smelled awful and was a total disaster. Entering the front door we were greeted by a living room chair that wasn’t there when my mother left in August. That gives you an idea of how we were greeted.

From the marks on the wall it looks like 4-5 feet of water made it into the house. From the ‘bunny suits’ the Meisel’s wore, you can assume it wasn’t spring water.

Nearly everything was ruined.

One of the things that struck Farrell when we spoke on the phone was the proliferation of signs advertising Katrina related services. There are also markings, scrawled on homes with spray paint.

This house has been FEMA’d. FEMA is not an acronym here. It’s a four-letter word. BTW, so is Bush.
One of the city’s synagogues, Beth Israel, an Orthodox house of worship…Also one of the city’s oldest, which used to be in the historic uptown area until the late 1960s. Also on Canal Blvd, note the watermarks. Reportedly, the head Rabbi fled town, leaving the Torah scrolls to flood and be rescued from religious volunteers. The Rabbi has since been fired. My sister spotted prayer books and prayer shawls on the ground in front of the now-deserted synagogue….a sin in the Jewish religion.

Here’s how Farrell ended his note, and I’ll leave it pretty much intact:

As I visit here, for the first time in several years, 3 months after the devastation that has been chronicled worldwide, I have now discovered: A Missing City. Parts of the city and neighboring parish (Jefferson) we have seen are beginning to function, but it’s slow and without spirit.

In our many conversations with New Orleanians and Jeffersonians, one hears a great deal of anger leveled at Government. I could only find one person with a nice thing to say about President Bush. I asked why? The waitress at the seafood restaurant said it was the Louisiana Governor’s fault for not letting Bush send FEMA and the troops in. I then asked, out of curiosity, did she know that Bush was on a fundraising trip in California for three days before he did a “fly-over”, VP Cheney was buying a vacation house and the Secretary of State was shopping in Manhattan, while her home state, Alabama, was flooded. The waitress hadn’t heard that.

A newspaper stand owner or manager clearly vented his anger towards Bush, but didn’t spare either the local, regional and state governments, but felt, the US Government let Louisiana down.

Most of the Greater New Orleans area, (Orleans and neighboring parishes), as it’s known, with some 1 million people once living there, don’t have electricity, a home, assistance from FEMA, insurance companies, and they feel forgotten just three months after the hurricane and floods.. As is the case with crises the world over, once the cameras leave, the sense of urgency goes with the camera crews.

The stores and shops that are open are operating for limited hours due to two factors: limited shoppers and limited staff.

It’s quite unusual to be driving in one part of the area, say neighboring Metairie, where the shops and malls have reopened, only to continue on Interstate 10 to downtown New Orleans, and pass through darkness because whole areas have no power.

There were some signs of life downtown and in the French Quarter. The beautiful St. Charles Avenue historic areas seemed to be untouched and lit, yet, just a few blocks away, one would have thought we could have been in a war zone.

Rumors of price gouging exist. Household stores are reportedly charging double for goods consumers can buy in the middle of the state or in Mississippi for less. Gasoline is 30 cents a gallon more expensive than in the center of Mississippi or Louisiana reportedly.

Residents feel abandoned now. From the newspaper shop owner to restaurateur, residents don’t feel the city of N.O. census will approach even half of it’s close to 461,000 registered residents.

Employers are looking for employees. Potential employees are looking for housing, assistance from FEMA and the insurance companies, and those are the few, who have returned.

The Times-Picayune reported today that the New Orleans Mayor, Ray Nagin, rumored to be in Washington on business, actually wasn’t there on business, but took his family on vacation to Jamaica. While I’m sure he’s deserving of a break, there are several hundred thousand to one million people, who’d love to take that break, if only they could get some help from the various government agencies so they could get on with their lives and rebuild. And I haven’t even begun to discuss the levee system.

As I write this at 2am Central Standard Time, I was trying to think, after only two days here, how could I best describe what I have seen and heard? The word that comes to mind is “abyss.”

New Orleans, which had once been described as the “city that care forgot,” from an old Mardi Gras tale, has become the bottomless gulf or pit. There are only a handful of truly unique cities in the U.S. with some history and character. When tourists think of those cities, New Orleans had always been in the same company with San Francisco, Boston, New York, Savannah, and perhaps one or two other cities or towns.

It would not be an exaggeration to suggest, if there is no sense of urgency, New Orleans could drop off that list in my lifetime.

Please, look at the pictures. It is so sad… so tragic.

Thanksgiving Recap

I am just beginning to reenter the world of the living. Going to New York was a major shock to my system because of the one day schedule upheaval. I went to work a few hours before I normally wake up.

It was well worth it. Make no mistake about that. I had a great time, in spite of the weather.

Steffie accepted my offer and came along. While I caught a few hours sleep Wednesday evening, she decided to just stretch her day. By 1:15 AM Thanksgiving morning we were getting into a town car for the ride to Manhattan.

The ride started under cloudy skies, but by the time we got to Bridgeport, it was snowing. The snow was light at first, but before the New York line it was covering the road.

The town car blasted along between 65 and 75. I was beginning to get a little panicky. I didn’t want us to be the first Thanksgiving highway statistic!

As we moved through Westchester and into the Bronx, the snow turned to sleet and quickly to rain. Now the highway was just wet.

I asked the driver to stick to the West Side because I assumed some streets would be closed for parade preparations. We headed down the Henry Hudson Parkway, past the beautiful George Washington Bridge. At night the lattice of the bridge’s towers are lit, making it look like a gigantic model bridge. It’s too good looking to be real or functional.

Traffic was light as we transitioned from the Henry Hudson to the West Side Highway. We were doing 74 mph when the cop caught us on radar!

I’ve never been pulled over in New York. It’s an experience. There’s no shoulder on the highway to safely stop, so the cop called through a loudspeaker, telling us to pull off at the next exit.

I got antsy and wanted to intercede. Steffie, wisely, kept me in check. As it turned out, the limo driver had things well in control.

Unbeknown to us, he had a small metal NYPD shield in his wallet. His cousin is a cop in Midtown Manhattan (or so he said – does it really matter). Under the unwritten law of professional courtesy, the officer acted angry, asked the driver if he knew how fast he was going and then walked away. Just like that. Holy cow – those things do work!

My instructions from ABC said to meet at 79th Street and Central Park West. There was no way to drive there, so we got out at 77th and Columbus.

IMG_3112I talked my way past a young guy standing security at Columbus Avenue, only to get questioned again at Central Park West. This person was tall, unhappy, and actually speaking into his wrist! When I asked if he was with the police or Macy’s he said, “Both.”

He was a little more thorough, wanting to see some ID. I don’t have an NYPD press pass, but I did have my Channel 8 ID. He looked at it for a few milliseconds and said OK – but he’d accompany us.

We headed uptown, past workers getting ready to march. We walked by the stately, somewhat Goth, Museum of Natural History. When we got to the next corner it was 81st Street.

There is no 79th and Central Park West! Uh oh.

I called Chika, my producer. She too was on her way. She asked me to stay put until she got there. Steffie and I stood under my umbrella in the rain. We were next to the Manhattan North command post and there was a constant buzz of activity.

When Chika got there, we realized not only was there no 79th and CPW – there was no live truck! I was standing there wondering if we’d get on the air at all. That thought only lasted a few seconds, because this type of logistical miscue happens all the time. Somehow, it always works… well almost always.

IMG_3014The truck ended up on Park Drive South, with a long cable run to the parade. The photographer, Mark, set up and we were ready to go.

Before leaving Connecticut I had cut the audio for a package on the parade. That track was for timing. Now, in the truck, using the strangest looking microphone I’d even seen, I recut it with better audio.

Along the curb, camera after camera after camera set up. All the local New York stations were there, as was GMA (ABC, but separate from us) and Today.

As shot, each reporter stood with the street behind him. Truth is, we were all shoulder-to-shoulder-to shoulder.

IMG_3083Let me take a second to apologize for anyone near me Thanksgiving morning. I project… OK, I am loud. It must have been tough for the reporters next to me, because I’m sure they heard me. Disconcerting, no doubt.

I cut a tag for World News Now, ABC’s overnight show, and then the live shots began.

It didn’t begin smoothly. The IFB system (IFB for interrupt feedback, describes the communications system that allows me to hear both the TV station in another city and its producer) was flawed. I was hearing a few syllables at a time and then silence. Something was there, but it wasn’t usable.

The first few live shots ended up being me fronting my package without interaction with the local anchors. I couldn’t speak with them, because I couldn’t hear them.

It wasn’t long before the IFB was squared away and we started ‘servicing the affiliates.&#185’

IMG_3090Here’s how it works. Chika speaks to the producer via cellphone. My IFB gets switched so I can hear their ‘air.’ We go over the names of the anchors and who I’ll be speaking with. Sometimes, if while waiting to go on I hear a weather forecaster mention local weather, I’d ask Chika to get his/her name.

Once on, I ad libbed a little about what was going on and then tossed to the package. On the way out I’d talk about the forecast of wind or let the anchors see the new Scooby Doo balloon resting across the street.

We did live hit after live hit after live hit. Sixteen separate shots over the morning. It was great!

I suppose you might say I’m a live TV slut. It’s a rush – a seat of the pants experience each and every time. I have called it crack for middle aged white guys.

IMG_3030After it was all done, the folks at ABC NewsOne thanked me. I appreciate that. But, the truth is, maybe they were doing me the favor. It’s a job I enjoy doing and they gave me the opportunity to do it from a great location, on a fun story, on stations all across the country.

The icing on the cake was going there with Steffie. I introduced her early on as my daughter. As the morning wore on, and other people came and went, she was just accepted as part of our crew. It’s nice to see her as a grownup and to see other people see her that way.

Liveshot rundown:

-- 0430 World News This Morning

-- 0515 WFTV - Orlando

-- 0545 WJLA - Washington

-- 0550 WTNH - New Haven

-- 0615 WFTV - Orlando

-- 0620 WTNH - New Haven

-- 0640 WCPO - Cincinnati

-- 0645 WJLA - Washington

-- 0650 WTNH - New Haven

-- 0705 WTNH - New Haven

-- 0720 WLS - Chicago

-- 0740 WTNH - New Haven

-- 0800 KABC - Los Angeles

-- 0820 KXTV - Sacramento

-- 0840 KNXV - Phoenix

-- 0900 KABC - Los Angeles

&#185 – When I ran into Al Roker and told him I was there ‘servicing the affiliates’, we both smiled. It does have that stud horse implication.

Two Point Conversion – Good Idea

I drove home for dinner as Helaine was watching the Tampa Bay – Washington football game. It’s good to have a wife who loves sports and is an adamant Philadelphia Eagles fan.

My enemy’s enemy is my friend. Go Tampa Bay.

With under two minutes to go, Tampa Bay scored a touchdown, leaving them down by a point. A kick (aka: PAT) from the two yard line would tie the game. A 2-point conversion would put them ahead.

John Gruden, Tampa Bay’s coach, elected to go for the two point conversion. He literally put the game on the line at that point, because if the attempt failed, Washington would certainly run out the clock.

Listening in the car, I heard Gruden’s choice second guessed. Coming home, I heard the same thing from my wife. The proper play is to kick the safe PAT and hope for the best in overtime.

I disagree.

First, you have to assume the PAT is a gimme. Last year, all season, Lawrence Tynes of Kansas City missed two – and he still had a 96.7% success rate! No one else missed more than one. So, by going for the two point play, you’re taking a ‘sure’ tie off the board.

On the other hand, if you tie, there’s no guarantee you’re going to get the ball back. Even if you do, will you ever have an easier place to score from that the two yard line?

Yes, you’re giving up a tie – seldom the final result. What you are doing is securing the chance to win right there. I like that idea. Just having the opportunity to score and probably win is more than you’re guaranteed in overtime and more than many unhappy teams get.

Today, Gruden was successful. If the play would have failed (the refs did review it), he would have been a major goat… but he still would have done the right thing.