Tag Archives: reporter

Coverage


Coverage: (n) the reporting, publishing and broadcasting of news:

 Pretty Nancy is a reporter

Not too tall, but never shorter

Had a microphone in her hand

Journeyed all across the land

Looking for the latest story

One with glory, maybe gory

Painted face looks just right

Working on into the night

Coverage is the game

Finding the blame

Bringing the truth

Without much proof

Deciding in committee

Who we should pity

Steering the report

To escape the retort

Pretty Nancy tells us the news

And tries real hard to steer our views

funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

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Ballroom

Ballroom: (n) a large room used for dancing.Dictionary B

Every writer, whether aspiring or accomplished, has to make a personal, singular decision:

Am I going to write my articles and thoughts down as they relate to the subject or as they relate to me?

It’s a huge decision.

Well, not huge in the sense of attempting to get funding to cure cancer, but huge as defined as acquiring purpose and having relevance.

I suppose some folks would be interested in an article written on the subject of ballrooms or ballroom dancing which would enlighten them on history by discussing the international traditions.

That’s not what I do.

I am not a reporter; I am a sharer.

So when I think about ballrooms, or ballroom dancing, I relate it to my limited experience with “hoofing.”

I haven’t done a lot of dancing in my life. Considering my size and girth, I’m really quite agile, but have never had the doors of opportunity flung open for me to tap dance my way into people’s hearts.

But I do remember what it was like to be seventeen years old and going to a prom, knowing that I would be holding a woman very close to me, and have to perform some reasonable imitation of flow. Coming from a small town, it was thrilling to arrive at one of the big-city hotels, which had a ballroom with hanging chandeliers.

The lights were dimmed, the 5-piece combo began to play, and it was time to sway.

I was swept away.

Suddenly I felt like every young boy from every generation, who found himself enraptured in the aura of romance and the itch to coagulate and dance.

I wasn’t very good, but I took some risks, we had some good laughs, and for a brief moment, the young lady and I were transcendent in time, wisked away on magical shoes.

I will never forget it.

I never had a desire to duplicate it. I didn’t go to Arthur Murray and try to perfect my steps.

But in that suspended moment, I understood why they made ballrooms, and why they filled them … with dance.

 

 

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Abloom

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Abloom: adj. covered in flowers.

I like flowers.

What I don’t like is pretending that I’m uninterested in flowers because if I stated in public that I was, I might be perceived as gay.

With all the necessary and valuable discussion going on about human relationships and civil rights–including equality for the gay community–it has heightened people’s defensive nature concerning what is gay and what is not.

So if you’re a guy, you can be nervous about going to a movie with another guy, feeling the need to worry about whether the appearance of two dudes together sends the signal that you’re sharing more than a bucket of popcorn. If you happen to be the kind of person who just enjoys good movies and doesn’t believe there’s any such thing as a “chick flick” or “macho films,” you can be seen as a borderline case–ready to jump into the rainbow coalition.

If you know your way around a kitchen and like to cook, you have to make sure that you have a beard, spiked hair and talk gruffly about things like motorcycles and football–or people might wonder if your delicacy is Twinkies.

It’s horrible.

I would love to walk outside and see a field abloom and be able to discuss the colorations and sheer utter magnitude of the vision without wondering if people thought I also had a poster of Judy Garland hanging in my boudoir. Is it going to be possible to actually become more open-minded, when we attribute certain levels of appreciation to a sexual preference instead of just plain human enjoyment?

  • Do I like Broadway musicals? Some of them.
  • Do I know how to decorate a room? Yes–even though I welcome other people’s opinions.
  • Can I say that the “fields are abloom” without people thinking that I am queenly? I fear not.

I will know we have grown as human beings when we talk more about human beings than we do about men, women, gay and straight. To me the whole thing is similar to our fourth grade obsession with cooties. Guys really liked girls but weren’t sure whether we were supposed to or not–and because of the eyeballing of our friends, we pretended that touching one of these females would cause multi-legged insects to infest our bodies. Let me be the first to say it: cuties don’t give you cooties.

And reporting that a field is abloom does not make you Anderson Cooper.