Bob's Corner
From our weekly issue dated June 10, 2009
Again this year, no institution of higher education (or even lower education) felt the need to invite me as a commencement speaker. That seems like a wise decision.
Printed newspapers involving those of us in the Fourth Estate are not perceived of late as being on the cutting edge of today’s society. In fact, if I were either a high school or college graduate this year, entering the wonderful world of newsprint journalism likely would not be my first choice as a major or a career move.
Although, there are the elite among us; those who subscribe, let us say, to newspapers including this one. In my case, newspapering has been my life’s work (officially) since 1963. In fact, whenever we travel, even if it’s simply to maybe Eureka, Yreka, Eugene, Bend or Salem, I am compelled to purchase the “local newspaper.” Can’t help myself, it’s in my blood, along with several ounces of printer’s ink no doubt.
Newsprint journalism has a long and mostly honorable history. Like any vocation, avocation, industry and the like, bad apples turn up occasionally. But by and large, journalists strive to honorably bring the public the news, and some reporters have turned up some startling and intriguing items. Watergate and President Nixon for example. (Some younger folks out there probably will have to “Google” or otherwise check what this means.)
As for me being a commencement speaker, I’d probably break into tears trying to bring a message to this year’s crop of graduates. For not only am I a sentimental, nostalgic slob, I am an admitted technology dope. I’m lucky to be able to use a PC, what with having entered journalism when hot lead and Linotype machines, manual typewriters and green eyeshades prevailed. See, there’s that nostalgia factor.
But back to Doltish Tech; I don’t Twitter or text or tweet, except when imitating birds. I thought Blueberry, or whatever that fruit name is, had to do with toast and biscuits. I still feel goofy when I see people seemingly talking to themselves, only to discover they have some sort of device on one side of their face and they’re talking to someone about something or somebody, usually having a “conversation” of no value. (My bias; sorry.)
Now back to graduates, facing their share of the national debt, around half a million bucks each at this point. Unemployment is high, although not as major as during the Great Depression. Why it’s called great is a mystery to me. It should be called the Horrible Depression or the Really Bad Depression; something like that. Our country is fighting two wars; some nations are fooling around with nuclear thingies; cities and counties are going bankrupt; home foreclosures are rampant.
Etc.
Life goes on. Graduates will find a way to not only survive, but thrive. We always do.
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