HOW I ALMOST TRIED TO GET FIRED RECENTLY
Like most professions, the path to fame in journalism is lined with accomplishment. You win a Pulitzer or two, write a series of articles of book that exposes government malfeasance or host a talk show in which high-ranking officials beat each other senseless and you justly earn the acclaim of the public and your peers.
Such laurels always go to reporters, but there is a back door to glory for copy/layout editors. When we gather, we tend to talk about our mistakes. Much laughter ensues, but some blunders are first met with the awed, slack-jawed silence of tourists seeing the Great Pyramid at Giza or the Sistine Chapel for the first time. There is a grandeur to such gaffes that defies mortal explanation, and we see the perpetrator in a supernatural light. "You're the one who put 'balling' in a 48-point 1A headline instead of 'bawling?' You must be touched by God!"
These mistakes achieve legendary status quickly, and for people who toil close to fame yet in constant anonymity the lure of celebrity can easily overpower reason. Which is why I was recently at my work station in a cold sweat, my hands trembling above the keyboard.
I was editing one of the stories about the Warner Robins Little Leaguers' world championship. A woman was describing what a thrill it was for her. "I had the greatest feeling of euphoria I've ever had in my life," she said of watching the team on television. And I saw an opening that only comes along once a year or so. A few keystrokes would be all it would take, and fame would be mine. All's I had to do was change the sentence to "I had the greatest feeling of euphoria I've ever had in my life," she said of watching the team on television, much to the obvious chagrin of her husband.
Yet I did not. I haven't decided whether it was a moment of sound judgment ... or weakness.
Like most professions, the path to fame in journalism is lined with accomplishment. You win a Pulitzer or two, write a series of articles of book that exposes government malfeasance or host a talk show in which high-ranking officials beat each other senseless and you justly earn the acclaim of the public and your peers.
Such laurels always go to reporters, but there is a back door to glory for copy/layout editors. When we gather, we tend to talk about our mistakes. Much laughter ensues, but some blunders are first met with the awed, slack-jawed silence of tourists seeing the Great Pyramid at Giza or the Sistine Chapel for the first time. There is a grandeur to such gaffes that defies mortal explanation, and we see the perpetrator in a supernatural light. "You're the one who put 'balling' in a 48-point 1A headline instead of 'bawling?' You must be touched by God!"
These mistakes achieve legendary status quickly, and for people who toil close to fame yet in constant anonymity the lure of celebrity can easily overpower reason. Which is why I was recently at my work station in a cold sweat, my hands trembling above the keyboard.
I was editing one of the stories about the Warner Robins Little Leaguers' world championship. A woman was describing what a thrill it was for her. "I had the greatest feeling of euphoria I've ever had in my life," she said of watching the team on television. And I saw an opening that only comes along once a year or so. A few keystrokes would be all it would take, and fame would be mine. All's I had to do was change the sentence to "I had the greatest feeling of euphoria I've ever had in my life," she said of watching the team on television, much to the obvious chagrin of her husband.
Yet I did not. I haven't decided whether it was a moment of sound judgment ... or weakness.
posted by John Parnell at 11:17 AM
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