Third Frank Nagler Book is Once Again a Winner

     First, let’s get the sarcasm out of the way: Michael Stephen Daigle, thank you so much for making my hometown the fictional home of perverts.

     Moonshiners, ok. Hoarders of hillbilly hound dogs and double-barrel shotguns, fine. Setters of mink traps on property that may or may not be posted, any day of the week. But pervs! Too far.

     That said, The Weight of Living, third in the Frank Nagler series, is as dark and delightful as its predecessors.

     Once again, Nagler is on the trail of a complex set of crimes. With a New Jersey setting, Daigle’s books always include Byzantine political shenanigans, pretty much the official state sport. It’s difficult to tell who the good guys are, if indeed there are any good guys, besides Nagler, intrepid newsman Jimmy Dawson and Nagler’s love interest Lauren Fox. It’s nice to read about Lauren and Frank’s domestic semi-bliss this time around, too.

     The town of Ironton is a thinly disguised Dover, complete with an abandoned canal, decrepit factories, changing population, creaky downtown and people passionate about preservation. Even an old vaudeville-house-turned-movie-theater that screams The Baker! to those of us who saw every Disney movie ever made there (and learned swear words in English – our fathers only swore in Italian -- from the ladies room wall).

     The Weight of Living travels a little more far afield than the previous two books in the series. There are scenes in Morristown and, as previously mentioned, the wild west of Morris County, Jefferson. With a huge county park and the remains of the Ringling Estate, including the elephant house, Jefferson is the best place in Morris County to set a reclusive cabin and a nefarious family.

Daigle’s books are classic who-dun-its with psychological depth, political subtexts and keen sense of history.  Nagler is introspective in the manner of Martha Grimes’ Richard Jury, but darker. His sidekicks, Dawson and Fox, are only really fully fleshed out if you read the books in order, so if you haven’t read The Swamps of Jersey and A Game Called Dead, do so. Then pick up The Weight of Living. Especially if you know and love New Jersey.

There is Hope

     The talk about today's media has been overwhelmingly doom and gloom: the failure to properly monetize digital products, the greed of corporate owners, the proliferation of faux news sites on social media, but some good news came out of Montclair, NJ, last Friday.

     The Center for Cooperative Media at Montclair State University is housed in a brand new building on campus so the unveiling of the report "Comparing Models of Collaborative Journalism" was also an opportunity to show off their new digs. Sarah Stonbely was principal investigator on the project and gave the presentation.

The lobby of the new School of Communication and Media building at Montclair State.

    What!? you say. Collaborative journalism?? Journalists collaborate? Since when? Journalists are cut-throat competitors. 

     Well, yes.  But not always. 
  
      And not as much anymore. 

     While journalists would like to remain tough loners that option is becoming as endangered as smoking in the newsroom.
     
      Of course, certain types of cooperation have existed for decades. The wire services were ways daily newspapers found to cover big, generally national stories they couldn't cover individually. Other types are newer.

     Stonbely presented six models of collaborative journalism. Basically, they are divided by duration and the type of cooperation. Collaboration is either temporary or ongoing and involves varying degrees of co-creating, from working separately and publishing together to working together from start to finish. 

     Not surprisingly, Public Radio provides some models for collaboration, including NPR working with local stations and local stations working together. Other non-profits are also at the forefront of cooperation.
  
     But, for-profit entities also form cooperatives. TAPinto, a New Jersey-based business, sells franchises. Most are in small communities, although there is a TAPinto Newark. A central office provides libel insurance and some advertising assistance among other things individual franchises would have difficulty with. Franchisees are also expected to abide by the Society of Profressional Journalists Code of Ethics. 

A panel discusses various examples of cooperative journalism projects.

     Other co-ops are formed for a specific purpose or story, including The Reentry Project in Philadelphia, in which 15 news organizations present stories on prisoner reentry into the community. Radio, print and digital entities are part of the Project. No television stations agreed to be part of it, Jean Friedman-Rudovsky, project editor of the project, said. 

    Regardless of the type of collaboration, the good news is that journalists are trying to change. And there is hope for a bright future in journalism. 

Drinking Buddies: The Highest Level of Friendship

     I attended a memorial service earlier this year for one of my son's favorite college professors, a man I knew from a stint working at the school. He died far too young, at 56, and there wasn't a dry eye in Trinity United Methodist Church in Hackettstown, NJ, that day.
    His long time best friend, a fellow professor, gave the most moving eulogy I have ever heard. In it, he discussed the levels of friendship. He was, of course, speaking specifically for guys, who have a different take on friendship than women. We have many more levels of friends: 
     1) The friends we can shop with because they won't lie to us in the fitting room and will say "that outfit makes you look like your mother on a bad day."  
     2) The friends we can watch "My Cousin Vinny" innumerable times with and still collapse on the floor laughing when Marisa Tomei stomps her foot and says "my biological clock is ticking like that!" Or "Dirty Dancing" with absolutely no irony in the fact we would have KILLED him for sleeping with our daughter at 16.  
     3) The friends we don't have to rehash all the family drama with because we grew up together and know each other's quirky (to put it mildly) relatives.
     4) The friends who remember just how awful high school was and how that stayed with us for years.
      5) The friends who remember college and our sketchy taste in boyfriends.
      6) The friends we raised our kids with and feel no embarrassment about how a) we will never learn to put up that damn tent or b) "trading" daughters to French braid their hair because it's just easier or c) the unfortunate incident with the Halloween cupcakes.
     But, I can really relate to Bob's commentary on the highest level of friendship: the Drinking Buddy. 
     Maybe because, as a journalist (or, as I prefer, old newspaper lady) I have had, and lost, some great drinking buddies:  Mike Celizic, Phil Beck, and now, Frances Burns.

Fran and Miriam Ascarelli at a New Jersey Pro Chapter event in Montclair.

     It's not so much that Fran and I drank together often, it's that we had that kind of veteran reporter relationship with comfortable conversations about the papers where we had worked:  "The Hudson Disgrace," "The Daily Wretched," "The Easton Distress."  Or the editors we had (barely) tolerated. Or the sources who tried to lie to us. 
     We both started at newspapers in the good years, before the bean counters got control. And lived through some years of some awful bean counting. 
     Sure, I knew Fran was ill, but, with the damnable cockeyed optimism that I carefully hide behind my reporter's cynicism, I figured we had a lot more time to bitch about a certain rewrite man or laugh about the shenanigans of our fellow newsfolk. When she told me I should take some of her books I might like to have, I said, "next time. We've got plenty of time." 
     There wasn't a next time. 
     And, what I would give for a next time. To another Jack and Ginger with Mike or another Whiskey Rebellion with Phil, I now add another glass of wine or cup of coffee or just plain chat with Fran. 
     Not that most people will listen. Hell, I won't listen and I'm the one giving the advice, but: don't take friendships for granted. Especially the finest kind, the Drinking Buddy. 

Fran and Maureen Nevin at a summer "meeting" at Maureen's house

 

How's Your Faith?

    That’s not a question we ask each other often.

     Maybe we should.

     We accept the need for checkups – eye tests, teeth cleanings. But, we don’t necessarily check on our own, or others’, faith.

    How’s your faith? 

     Is it healthy? Is it left over from your childhood or is it new? Did you create a combination of wht you grew up with and what you’ve learned? Did you take a spiritual journey or stumble into what you believe?

     David Gregory, known for being host of and being fired as host of “Meet the Press,” is a journeyer. Brought up with a Jewish identity but not too much religious education and with a Catholic mother who angrily abandoned her faith, Gregory embarked on a journey to figure our what he believes, how he wants to practice and how he wants to raise his children.

     Being a journalist, he documents that journey in his book, How’s Your Faith?

     He took the title from the question President George W. Bush asked him when he found out Gregory was exploring his beliefs. It may seem strange that the President of the United States would find out a White House correspondent’s private business, but political Washington is like a small town where everyone goes to the Post Office and the bank at specified times and gossips.

    In the book, Gregory traces his own history, including attending a Hollywood synagogue where Red Buttons often read from the Torah. It’s a unique story, but applicable to others, especially his interfaith marriage and their decision to raise their children Jewish, which is a very common scenario. Those not satisfied with where their journeys have taken them so far will find some compelling paths to follow. Gregory didn’t confine his mentors to rabbis but spoke to many people from various faiths.

     In a way, How’s Your Faith? Is a blueprint for the journey, but more than that it is a reminder to check in on ourselves now and then.

    So, how’s your faith?

Come Together

     Are we losing sight of the community when we focus on smaller special interest groups?

     Sure, all of us belong to some sort of special interest or at least have particular causes that are supremely important, but don’t we have more in common than not?

     It seems to me this is not the time to talk in terms of “us vs. them,” and yet, that’s what a divisive political campaign spawned.

      With the New Year should come some coming together.

      Lots of people are worried about many things, some of those things are significant to tiny segments of the population. Maybe we should concentrate on the ones that impact us all.

       Of course the biggie is the future of the planet. I could kiss Andrew Cuomo for finally getting rid of the Indian Point nuclear power plant – take a look at a geologic map of the Ramapo Fault and I guarantee you’ll get in line behind me. But the possibility of an earthquake sending radiation into the Hudson River pales in comparison to the possibility that an unstable leader of one country could set off the unstable leader of another who possesses nuclear weapons. I think we can all unite behind not wanting another arms race.

     And behind not wanting a quieter but just as deadly consequence for the earth.  Climate change is real and it’s happening really fast. We should be uniting behind the international treaties to stop pollutants; behind alternative energy (and, while we’re at it, behind retraining for the miners who are NOT going to be returning to the coal mines); behind every initiative we can think of to slow the progression of sea level rise (I mean, sure, the thought of Atlantic City permanently under water gives me a moment of giggles, but. . . .).

    How about getting behind infrastructure repairs? Our railroads and roads and bridges are crumbling. People need jobs, there they are. And new projects where necessary: the new Hudson Rail Tunnel, the Gordie Howe Bridge. Makes sense to me.

    How about education? I don’t know one person on the right or left who thinks No Child Left Behind and all the increase in standardized tests makes any sense whatsoever. How about training the best teachers we can (another buss on the cheek to Mr. Cuomo for his tuition plan for New York State) and giving them free rein to do the best job they can, with as little paperwork as possible. People who are good at teaching are almost by definition lousy at filling out silly forms.

    Let’s look ahead at what we can do for the future. I’m not calling for abandoning any group of people, just for concentrating on the issues that impact all of us.

    It’s time to come together. Not splinter apart.