These Are The Days, My Friend
Lots of new-world treatments of the old days, which are the subject of my Sunday column, where I flesh out my mixed feelings of the big old Inquirer reunion held last weekend.
Rich Heidorn, a former Inky reporter, blogged about the event at his site, TreeHouse Media. He set up a tripod and was videotaping all of the once and present Inquirer people there. He asked people what advice they had for Bill Marimow. You can find some of the results on his site. He felt the same thing at the event, but for different reasons, his filtered through a rear-view mirror:
It was an Irish wake for the sort of swashbuckling journalism I was lucky enough to be a part of during my own tenure at the Inky (1982-1999). Surprisingly, there was much sweet, and seemingly little bitter. It had something to do with the beer, no doubt. The fact that most of the attendees no longer work at The Inquirer, which has been decimated by rounds of buyouts and layoffs since 2005, also was a factor.
There are more pictures, video and accounts on a Web site created for the reunion. My favorite moment was a song performed by Charles Layton, to the tune of the "Folsom Prison Blues." His Momma always told him the newspaper business will treat you right.
Which reminds me of what they taught in J school: If your mother says she loves you, check it out!
And Clark DeLeon weighed in, first, with this description of the moment in time, when Gene Roberts took over the Inquirer and made it into something else:
The windows of the Vatican were open and the dust was swirling, even sort of darting side to side, kind of zigging and, you know, oozing. Gene Roberts communicated like a Buddah . Not only did we get it, we couldn't even explain it to each other without quoting him . I have never heard anyone explain the philosophy of journalsim that we all embraced without a little red book quote from Chairman Gene. "News doesn't always break," Gene said. "Sometimes it oozes."
Rich Heidorn, a former Inky reporter, blogged about the event at his site, TreeHouse Media. He set up a tripod and was videotaping all of the once and present Inquirer people there. He asked people what advice they had for Bill Marimow. You can find some of the results on his site. He felt the same thing at the event, but for different reasons, his filtered through a rear-view mirror:
It was an Irish wake for the sort of swashbuckling journalism I was lucky enough to be a part of during my own tenure at the Inky (1982-1999). Surprisingly, there was much sweet, and seemingly little bitter. It had something to do with the beer, no doubt. The fact that most of the attendees no longer work at The Inquirer, which has been decimated by rounds of buyouts and layoffs since 2005, also was a factor.
There are more pictures, video and accounts on a Web site created for the reunion. My favorite moment was a song performed by Charles Layton, to the tune of the "Folsom Prison Blues." His Momma always told him the newspaper business will treat you right.
Which reminds me of what they taught in J school: If your mother says she loves you, check it out!
And Clark DeLeon weighed in, first, with this description of the moment in time, when Gene Roberts took over the Inquirer and made it into something else:
The windows of the Vatican were open and the dust was swirling, even sort of darting side to side, kind of zigging and, you know, oozing. Gene Roberts communicated like a Buddah . Not only did we get it, we couldn't even explain it to each other without quoting him . I have never heard anyone explain the philosophy of journalsim that we all embraced without a little red book quote from Chairman Gene. "News doesn't always break," Gene said. "Sometimes it oozes."
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