Sometimes I wish I did sit behind a desk all day, with a nice, glowing box full of confused electrons to push about at will. It seems that every time I get on the road, something happens that makes me really want to blog the thing...now that I've been doing this for a year, I do believe blogging is as good a stress relief as a shot of tequila...
Today, somewhere between Woodbury and McMinnville, I channel hopped the radio and picked up Steve Gill, whom I might listen to occasionally (preferred Glenn Beck in that slot, no offense Steve, but I do enjoy some humor mixed with teh droll).
Steve mentions offhandedly that the Pravda on the Cumberland had published a link to names and addresses (searchable,no less) for all Concealed Carry Permit Holders in the State of Tennessee.
I pulled off and bought the thing, and sure enough, there was the article, with a database link to my name, and every other CCP holder. That's just mean-spirited, and dangerous. Give a link to an address where a criminal can find a gun, guaranteed. And the permit holder may not be home all the time, leaving a spouse...or child...vunerable. I became slightly annoyed.
Also, inside that paper, there were phone numbers, inside the front page. Listed was President and Publisher Ellen Leifeld (615)259-8303, eleifeld@tennessean.com ...of course the phone lines, by 10:00 AM, were jammed. I waited.
I may seem pleasant and cheerful at times, but don't let that fool you...I can flat rip a new singularity if need be, and I felt some open conversation was called for. There was that conversation, and I will receive a full refund of never-to-arrive issues. Then, I called several other like-minded individuals, who called others, who called...but you get the picture. There was a very warm, fuzzy feeling on the 2nd Floor at 1100 Broadway today, and it wasn't just AlGore's warming effect, either...
SayUncle blogged progress on this issue all day long; at some point, the Tennessean caved to pressure. Uncle sez it was the internet; that's well and good, but give credit also to telephony and radio. Not everyone has that glowing box in front of them all day long. Heat is heat, and there's something about spooked looks from the Customer Service staff, and planitative wails from the Advertising Department, that sets a Publisher's heart to racing.
The Tennessean might be able to earn my bidness back, but I want to see a head roll. Someone must lose a job for this one. Editor, at least; maybe a couple. The thing is, the Liberal Bias of the Tennessean is thick enough to cut with a knife; it's a blatant thing, and this episode is just going to repeat, unless good people force some change. We lost the Banner some years back, that was the Balance for 1100 Broadway. The Nashville CityPaper is an excellent alternative, and it's free, but limited to Davidson County (I sometimes never get there to pick it up).
So, if this was my last paper, what should I do with it?
What else?
Sometimes I wish I did sit behind a desk all day, with a nice, glowing box full of confused electrons to push about at will. It seems that every time I get on the road, something happens that makes me really want to blog the thing...now that I've been doing this for a year, I do believe blogging is as good a stress relief as a shot of tequila...
