Regina George Nostalgia

This weekend I was walking around Union Square for a few minutes awaiting the arrival of a perpetually "five minutes" late friend, when I suddenly did a double take. I felt a cool shiver run through my spine, as, upon my third glance, I finally remembered why three guys walking north on Broadway looked so familiar. I knew them from long ago summers spent at sleep-away camp.

Like many northeastern sleep away camps, mine was loosely affiliated with Judaism and primarily consisted of Jews. A non-Jewish friend of mine likes to say that sleep-away camp is the earliest, and ultimately most effective, push Jewish parents' make in a long process of nudging their little pride-and-joy towards marrying a similarly faithed girl. He's probably right.

But in my mind I was there because my mom coerced me into giving it a try; because I wanted to be able to blast Adam Sandler's "masterpiece" Stan and Judy's Son and Eminem's The Slim Shady LP without worrying if my parents overheard the absolutely obscene jokes and lyrics; and because I got to play sports all day--and basketball, the best sport of them all, twice daily.

Now, I was by no means the coolest kid at camp, but I did OK for myself. I was coordinated enough for a Jewish kid to compete in sports, so I had friends. Socials--otherwise known as the few times a summer when we'd mingle with members of the opposite sex who hailed from similar backgrounds and whose parents had similar motivations--certainly weren't my favorite part of camp, but I had a good time, and usually the food was passable for these occasions, so there was that. Overall, it was a pretty happy lifestyle.

Then again, I imagine the three young men I ran into last weekend would have a grossly different take on what transpired.

Image: Rachel-McAdams.net

These three guys were the princes of Camp Kinder-Ring. They owned the place. They were athletic, but especially good at those slightly alternative sports--you know, like hockey and lacrosse--that gave them a certain rebellious coolness a la James Dean. The best way I can describe them, in terms of appearance, is to say they caught on to the "Jersey Shore" style about eight years before MTV ever did. During the day, they walked around camp with their fitted caps rotated about 120-degrees from the front, and constantly wore sleeveless shirts and jerseys. The rest of us: basketball shorts and ratty t-shirts.

And when one of those socials came around, they spent an hour getting ready. While the rest of us hopped into the shower and threw on our "nicest" pair of cargo shorts, and, if we were feeling especially spiffy, a polo shirt, they emerged from their bunk rushed. Even the hour wasn't enough time.

We lined up anticipating their arrival. (Camp rules forbade going to these events without the entire group.) They made a grand entrance. Their hair explained the loud motor we overheard while waiting for them to join us. It was blown-dry perfectly in to place. They walked towards us gargling mouthwash, and spitting it out authoritatively to the dirt just as they lined up. And they always, always, wore fitted black t-shirts, khaki shorts and crisp, white sneakers.

Of course, once we arrived at the social, they were the most sought after of all the guys there. Simply put, they were cool. Maybe cooler than any 14-year-old should ever be.

Naturally, when I saw them on Broadway just a few days ago, they looked different. They looked older. And I might not have recognized them if not for the fact that they dressed exactly as I remembered them: the sideways-backward cap, football jerseys, sweatpants and dunks. Eight years later, they still looked like cool 14-year-olds. Meanwhile, I'm proud to report, I was absolutely not wearing cargo shorts.

You might think this post is going to end with me getting the last laugh. But it won't. There's no schadenfreude here. Rather than bask in tides turned, I felt a tinge of regret as they passed me by. What good is being cooler now? I'd have much preferred to be cool then, as a kid, when it was important to me, when it had good perks. Now, being cool just means more social obligations.

Luckily, I avoided this one. I crossed the street before our paths crossed and didn't say, "hello."

How To Become An Expert In One Simple Step

Last week I wrote a piece for Business Insider titled "Obama Must Consider These 8 Improvements To The Small Business Jobs Act."

If you have a moment--and I assume you do, if you're reading this blog--check out the article. For the lazy among you, here's a quick recap: President Obama has feverishly tried to enact a law that he hopes will spur small business growth, chiefly by making it easier for small businesses to secure loans. The president has said he believes nearly 80 percent of job growth will come from the small business sector.

But in this era of extreme partisanship Obama can't even get small business advocacy groups to fully support the law, let alone democrats and republicans in the Senate. My story took a look at eight of the biggest gripes various politicians and advocacy groups have with the Small Business Jobs Act.

Some wise guy commenter had this to say about my story:

YES, the president should listen to a zit-faced, barely out of school, diaper wearing 'writer' for business insider. magna cum laude harvard grad who's broken through every possibly barrier to become president of a tea-bag filled country should change change the bill to reflect what zit-faced kid says....

Now, my complexion isn't perfect, and it's true I am just barely out of school, but that doesn't bother me. I've developed thick skin writing for a site teeming with snarky commenters. His assertion that I was in no place to suggest improvement to the bill though, really got under my skin.

Arrogant as it sounds, as I'm perfectly qualified to offer improvement on Obama's original submission. I'm an expert. And the truth is, you can be, too--in just one simple step.

Wikimedia via Oren Jack Turner

Do some reporting.

For that story, I spent the better part of a day researching statements made by republican and democratic senators (including those who helped draft the original bill), reading the bill and analyses of the bill, and speaking to two small business advocacy groups. That research, and those conversations, made me an expert. I was well-versed in every argument these groups had against the bill, and the corresponding counterargument. Trust me, I knew what I was talking about.

And that's the essence of reporting. Journalists find a story, and develop an expertise--for a brief time--by interacting with the accepted experts, asking questions and challenging their assertions. Our profession dictates that we spend our time knownig as much about our subjects as possible, whether it's a person, a place or, as in this case, a thing.

Having transitioned so quickly from ignorant to enlightened, journalists are the perfect candidates to explain the angles of the story to a reader.

But you don't have to be a journalist to become an expert. Anyone who dedicates time and hard work into uncovering the truth about something. And in the internet age, information is easier than ever to come by.

Take my health-obsessed finance friend. Dave's never taken any classes or studied nutrition, but ask him any question about healthy eating habits and he's sure to have a well-researched answer. Doesn't that make him an expert? After all, he's interested and concerned enough with his own health to read everything he can get his hands on about nutrition. He can tell you what affect most any nutrient or supplement has on your body. In fact, I'd trust his advice before anything Oprah or any of those TV "doctors" have to say. Sure, they're pretty and know how to project charisma in front of a camera. But there's no way their as obsessed with nutrition as Dave is. So i'll take his word for it.

There you have it. Anyone can be expert if they're willing to put the time in to finding out everything there is to know about a subject. It's just easier for journalists because they have some reputable publication paying them to become obsessed.

Even an Atheist Can Believe In This

Long before I ever turned 13--the age at which Jewish men are required to fast on Yom Kippur--I would refrain from eating and drinking on our day of repentance. But, ever the contrarian, at age 16 I decided I had enough. I wasn't going to fast.

According to religious texts, Jews forego food in order to focus all attention on prayer as just 24 hours remain to beg for forgiveness after a full year of sin.

But when I fasted all I could think about was food. I was hungry. And when I get hungry, nothing--not chores, not TV, not sports, and not even God--stands between me and my appetite. Therefore, I reasoned, to maximize my enthusiasm for repentance, I would need to eat. It had nothing to do with the audacity of my actual sins: I hadn't killed anyone or stolen anything, but perhaps I gossiped too much, and at some point I was probably mean to someone somewhere. Instead, it had everything to do with my belief that I was following the spirit of the law even better than were my parents, or even, my rabbi.

I bring this up, because a few days ago I celebrated Yom Kippur the way I have every year since my rebellious 16th year: by fasting.

Flickr via Lawrie Cate

In fact, today, the ritual of fasting and spending the day in synagogue has made Yom Kippur my favorite Jewish Holiday. I like it better than the eight nights of Channukah presents, the delicious Rosh Hashanah dinner and even then the beloved Passover Seder.

You see, it's very easy to question religion. Thousands of years ago it may very well have been necessary. It offered organization, an ethical code and some greater purpose in a largely undeveloped, impoverished world. But today, religion is frivolous to many. Even spiritual guru Deepak Chopra had this to say about god and religion in a recent interview:

I say God gave humans the truth, and the Devil came and said, “Let’s organize it, we’ll call it religion.”

A significant portion of Americans would look at that statement, and laugh. "Ha! That guy actually believes in God? What a sucker!"

Well, to those Americans, and to the billions of people on this earth with varying belief in religion, superstition, karma, God or Satan, I say consider celebrating Yom Kippur. Try fasting. Spend a full day thinking about all you've done wrong over the past year. Consider how you could improve in the year to come.

I realize I'm preaching, but stay with me here. Say what you will about Judaism or any other religious relic, but Yom Kippur is an ingenious holiday. It's one of the few religious rituals that makes sense spiritually and and rationally.

Why don't Jews combine milk and meat? Why do Muslims pray five times a day? How was Jesus born? Who knows!

But why withhold from indulging in food and beverage for a full day, as Jews do on Yom Kippur? Simple. It's the universal symbolism for purifying yourself. You stop putting new material in your body, and allow a year's worth of transgressions to pass through your system. It's analogous to the popular post-Christmas/New Year's diet. We're just trying to purify ourselves, and move on from the bad decisions we've recently made.

And why spend a full day repenting about the sins we've committed, and trying to sincerely become a better person, as Jews do on Yom Kippur? Because acknowledgment of errors is the first step towards improvement. We're trying to become better people.

And even the least religious of people can see the benefit in that.

Staring Down Death

I gave myself a little break from blogging for the long Labor Day Weekend, but didn't want to leave my loyal audience (Hi mom!) without anything to read for the shortened work week. Here's a story I wrote with the unfulfilled intent to publish:


Perhaps this story should start with a eulogy. We gather here today before God to remember the music industry. Born in 1914 when the phonograph first outsold the household piano, it lived a happy, wealthy life and flourished as it adapted to new technologies and grew to earn $38.6 billion by the turn of the century. Today, we mourn its death. Projected 2010 music sales in the U.S., according to Forrester Research, won’t reach $10 billion despite peaking at nearly $15 billion a decade ago. Record labels are scrambling for answers, producers are searching for jobs and profits are increasingly scarce.

To everything there is a season, a time under the sun. For the music industry the days became shorter and the leaves turned brown in June 1999 with the launch of Napster’s illegal file-sharing software. Fifteen months later Napster reported 28 million downloads of its software. Though U.S. courts eventually disbanded Napster, a dangerous precedent had already been set.

One no longer needed $19.95 to pay the retail price of compact discs. Music could be had for free. New illicit programs replaced Napster, and with the growth of high-speed Internet, downloading songs took mere seconds. By 2008, the IFPI, an organization that represents the global industry, reported that 11 million songs were pirated each day.

“Music is very much devalued,” said Drew McKinley, manager of the Deadly Syndrome, an independent rock act that released its second album this March. “People don’t even want to spend a dollar on a song because they know they can get it somewhere else for free. There’s such a plethora of music available now that if one band forces them to pay, they know they can just go to the next band and get music for free.” Morality and legality don’t stand a chance against the allure of free music.

Now don’t bury the coffin just yet. Sure, the days of paying for music may be over, but what if you harnessed the power of free music to become even more profitable?

McKinley and the Deadly Syndrome decided to try exactly that. The band dropped their independent record label, Dim Mak Records, and used widely available technology to record, produce, engineer and mix its second album, titled Nolens Volens, almost entirely on its own. It hired an outside publicity firm, but that’s it. No record label operated as the middleman. The band earned every last cent from the CDs it sold on tour or through their website (the band doesn’t have deals with any distributors yet, though it’s working on one with Amazon), and it collected the full 70 percent digital distributors—such as iTunes and Amazon MP3—pay for music. Meanwhile, artists signed to major labels typically take about $1.60 from a $15.99 CD sale, and $1.40 from a $9.99 album purchase on iTunes.

The downside to operating without a record label is the lack of easy access to traditional music outlets that build hype for an album. The Deadly Syndrome overcame this by giving away “Wingwalker,” the first single from their album, to anyone who logged onto their site and entered their e-mail address. “Music is becoming much more of a promotional tool,” McKinley said. “We use it to sell more concert tickets and more merchandise.”

Jason Karpf, a junior at Northwestern University, believes in music’s promotional utility from personal experience. During his high school days, Karpf rarely pirated music and most of his music knowledge came from his local popular hip-hop radio station’s playlist. In college he began to download music—sometimes several albums a day—and his music taste took off. Just about all of the 10,000 songs that comprise his iTunes library were pirated. But he still supports artists he likes.

“I do go to a pretty good amount of concerts,” he reasons. “I pay $40 for a ticket rather than just spending $10 for the album. But if I wasn’t downloading their music illegally, I wouldn’t know who they were and I certainly wouldn’t be going to their concerts.” In the past 12 months alone Karpf has attended some 27 concerts.

As a result younger bands are happy to see their music being pirated. According to McKinley, when members of the Deadly Syndrome saw the high volume of illegal downloads of their newest album “the guys were pretty excited about it.”

“Especially considering the Deadly Syndrome’s crowd skews a little younger, music piracy has definitely gotten the word out.”

Then perhaps we attended the wrong funeral. Maybe the music industry is alive. Maybe artists don’t need to be compensated for their recordings. Maybe they can survive through concerts as artists did for centuries before the invention of the phonograph. Maybe we’re really witnessing the passing of the record label.

The modern record label originated from furniture companies that recorded music to increase phonograph sales. Only later did they realize that these vinyl discs were the true commodities. Today, recording music is just part of the labels’ job. They scout for new talent, provide funding for recording sessions and match experienced sound engineers with artists. Once the album is produced, record labels reap royalties from the music they sell via long-established marketing and distribution practices and copyright law.

When music is pirated there is no return on this investment. Inexperienced artists in most need of financial safety nets, often earn the least money for labels as their music appeals to younger demographics (including Karpf) most likely to pirate music. Record labels are becoming increasingly dependent on their largest acts.

Alex Drake, a former employee of Astralwerks Records—owned by EMI—witnessed this trend when he worked for them in 2008. “It reached the point where if Coldplay’s new album [Viva la Vida] didn’t do well, the entire company might fail,” Drake said. “I saw first-hand the effects decreasing record sales, and a decrease in needing record labels to get your music out there, had on the market.”

Yet many independent record labels don’t have the benefit of a Colplay, a U2 or a Lil’ Wayne. Alive Records, for example, is an independent record label with 29 lesser-known blues-rock artists in its catalogue. It famously released the Black Keys debut album, but the band moved to a major label as they gained fame. Alive must adapt to the current music economy without an iconic act to keep its business afloat.

“Low sales have affected the entire production chain but, ironically, a new generation of consumers are now paying for downloads,” explains Patrick Boissel, founder and president of Alive. “Those digital sales have become very important to the survival of small labels like us.”

Outside of these sales, Boissel admits the future of record labels is tumultuous. He acknowledges that music piracy can eventually boost artists’ concert revenue, but his label earns nothing from those shows. So he must continue to rely on selling music, which, he insists, despite diminishing business, is a coveted skill.

It’s also a more complicated task than Drew McKinley would lead you to believe. His band is content to distribute solely through its website, iTunes and Amazon. But there are many more retailers. Legal online services, such as Spotify, Pandora and the current edition of Napster offer new ways of enjoying music with vastly different, and more complicated payment models. All of these sites compensate artists. So too do filmmakers that use a song for their scene. But it’s up to artists to negotiate with each outlet to maximize their audience and earnings.

This is where the future of record labels lies. Labels have negotiated on behalf of artists for years and have more leverage than a single artist might. “They control the market, distribution, promotion, marketing, access to mainstream medias, etc.,” Boissel said. “They won't disappear.”

“But,” he added, “I never plan too far ahead. This business is too unpredictable.”

A lot like death itself.

The Fundamentalist Paradox

This whole "Ground Zero (sic) Mosque (sic)" thing isn't sitting well with me. I tried desperately to avoid writing about the most overplayed story of the year. At this point, after weeks of coverage, it seems there isn't anything left to say on the issue.

What's amazing is that it started as a political ploy. Rick Lazio, a candidate for governor of New York, brought the issue to the public to generate buzz for his campaign. He succeeded to a fault, as the proposed center grew out of his control into a national story.

Now, it's the latest sign that America hasn't lived up to the promise its founders made more than 230 years ago: "All men are created equal."

But it's really not that easy. On the one hand, I'd sort of like a little bit of transparency with the Islamic Center---just some reassurance that the financing is in no way connected with terrorism, lest the center become a symbol of their triumph. Let me be clear, when I say "their" I'm referring to terrorists, not Muslims. That's key. The September 11 attacks were not carried out by Muslims against New York City infidels; rather, they were carried out by terrorists against Americans. Muslims were killed in the attacks, too. So in a sense even asking for some transparency with regards to financing concedes legitimacy to the idea that Islam is inherently connected to terrorism.

(Which, by the way, it's not. Islam is not any more violent a religion than Judaism or Christianity. In fact, in some places--I haven't read the whole thing--the Qu'ran encourages acceptance of Judaism.)

So what does that say about me? After all, I wouldn't need transparency if it were a Jewish or Christian center. So much for my belief in religious equality.

See, it's kind of complicated in that way. It would be so much easier if, cognizant of the controversy, the Center's builders just said: "You know what, forget it. Let's just build this thing somewhere else." Then again, that would be even more of indicting of America's alleged religious liberties.


(Check out this great Jon Stewart clip on the Islamic Center)

Not so complicated is another Islamic controversy that's surfaced in recent weeks. Republicans claiming that not only is President Barack Obama a socialist (gasp!), but he's also a Muslim.

The fact that it's a ridiculous theory notwithstanding, who even cares? What if, somewhere in Obama's lineage, he has Muslim roots? What's the difference? America lawfully elected him president. End of story.

Right-wing leaders have latched on to this theory, not necessarily because they believe it to be true, let alone care, but because they knew it would resonate with American people. That's how leaders lead. They recognize hot topics, play up the importance of that topic, and take a stand that garners a widespread following. Considering many Americans associate Islam with terrorism, this jives perfectly with that leadership model.

And that's what's really at the heart of both of these issues. Americans have, incorrectly, come to link terrorism with Islam. I don't think it's baseless hate, as much as it is a naive, but real concern that Muslims are out to kill Americans. The intelligent among us know it's fundamentalists--who harbor power in impoverished countries, which happen to be disproportionately Muslim--that hate Americans. As we know, without poverty and illegitimate governments, fundamentalists and terrorism might not even exist. But rather than analyze the situation carefully, many Americans have become fundamentalists themselves. They've ignored conflicting evidence and have come to accept the most radical perspective: all Muslims, even those attempting to build a center for cultural acceptance, are connected to terrorism.

Unless, of course, they're the Palestinian Muslims trying to force the Jews out of Israel. As has been the case throughout history (see: Holocaust, the) even "terrorism" is preferable to those big-nosed, money-hungry capitalists.

Step 1: Abandon All Your Principles

Last week I sunk to levels I never thought I'd reach. I did something I quietly teased my buddy about for months. I actually used my Google Chat status to link to something I wrote. Yep, it's gotten to that point.

It won't be the last time I do it either. I once read somewhere that success is unattainable if you're unwilling to do the uncomfortable. Actually, I might have made that up. Regardless, it's something I've been thinking about a lot lately.

It's no secret I don't love social media. I've been off of Facebook for more than two years; though I've reluctantly acknowledged that Twitter does have some benefits I'll probably never have an account; I don't subscribe to LinkedIn, nor do I use any of the countless social media applications I read about every day on Business Insider.

Yet social media is crucial to the modern journalist. Sure, the better-known media types, likeTimes columnists, don't need one. But until you achieve that status, you do need to create a following, or else you'll never get to that level.

That's because the old model of print journalism--where you start with a localized beat, and work your way up the ladder towards wider coverage--has given way to a new model. Now, you start with a localized following (friends, family and so forth) and work your way towards establishing a wider audience. The biggest and best media sites want to hire writers who can already guarantee an audience. The upside for journalists is that we can essentially choose our subject matter, but that comes with competing with just about anyone willing to create a blogger account for that audience.

Image: Flickr User Jurvetson. Yep, that's going to be my audience one day.

That's why I linked to a story I had published in my G-Chat status. Unlike many of the features on the site--for example, "The 25 Best Tech Companies to Work For"--it wasn't an eye-catching item that readers could click through relatively mindlessly. It was a longer story whose payoff would only come to the reader who dedicated time to it.

It's also the kind of story I most enjoy writing. It's essentially a profile of an interesting person who lacks name recognition. I got to speak with the subject, Paul Block, at length and learn his story. However, it didn't do well on the site. Maybe the headline wasn't catchy enough, perhaps it wasn't featured at the most opportune time, and it definitely wasn't newsworthy enough to make it to the front page of the main site. But, I believe, it's a damn good story. So if I'm going to get Business Insider to allow me to do more of them, I have to publicize it as best I can. I have to recruit some dedicated readers among my social network, however small it may be, and hope that they return to the site for more of my material.

That's called personal branding and it's a necessity for any journalist today. Much to my dismay, it requires that I utilize social media. But, like the athlete willing to go to whatever length necessary to make the team, I'm committed enough to the cause that I'm willing to be uncomfortable to achieve success.

It's inspiration from that saying--made up or not.

Today's Sign of the Apocalypse

Thought this story was pretty interesting:

Court Orders Skyping as Part of Matrimonial Case


According to the comments--usually a dubious source of information, but this set appears pretty well-informed which is not unusual for LegalBlogWatch--this kind of stuff happens all the time. Although it's the first instance of "court ordered Skyping" in the NY legal system.

Interesting to see social media technology being adapted into legal decisions. For now, I like it. But check back after the first court mandated BBM session. I'll have stronger opinions then.

"Worldwide Leader" Proves Nickname Applies Outside of Just Sports

As a writer for Business Insider I occasionally contribute to their "Wire" vertical, which covers the media business. Most of their coverage comes from linking out--or adding analysis (value) to a story broken by another, larger outlet. And anything sports related, which almost always encompasses ESPN, is my responsibility.

I tend to poke fun at ESPN in that snarky tone that bloggers love, and the mainstream media loves to hate. It seems as though every time I mention ESPN I can't help but rip the worldwide leader for something: this summer, cross-promotion and the LeBron debacle have been the biggest culprits. Few will disagree that both those complaints are valid.

But anyone who knows me, knows I couldn't live without ESPN, and yesterday, after getting my ritual insult out of the way, I finally said something nice:

Those circulation numbers are pretty impressive and ESPN can thank the foresight of its executives for that success. ESPN has long charged for premium "Insider" content, and has linked that subscription with the magazine. Subscribers to either one get access to the other for free. Slowly, other media outlets are beginning to realize this is the way to go.

Look, it's clear that an online paywall is inevitable.


Flickr via kevindooley


Media outlets can't keep giving away content for free, not only because, well, they should charge, but also because free content is less valuable to advertisers. Advertisers want to know that people who visit the page they advertise on actually want to be there. That's why they pay significantly more for print advertisements.

By bundling ESPN Insider and ESPN the magazine, the Worldwide Leader now has two distinct outlets that garner a lot of traffic and are appealing to advertisers because of the paywall. Let's say a user only signed up for ESPN Insider and couldn't care less about the magazine. You're telling me that guy isn't going to open the magazine when it comes in the mail every other week? And once he does, advertisers already know that he loves sports, and enjoys ESPN's coverage so he's easily engaged. Conversely by mentioning ESPN Insider at the end of every magazine article, ESPN is getting as many people to activate their free accounts as possible. Again, once those users log on advertisers know what they're getting. See? There's a reason for all that annoying cross-promotion.

ESPN does two other things correctly here. First, they have a significant quantity of free content online so that they don't completely alienate non-payers. Second, they put out enough premium content that distinguishes itself enough from the free stuff to be worth paying for.

Other media outlets need to learn from this example. The New York Times should keep much of its international and domestic news free, along with most of its blogs, while putting a paywall behind columnists and its more unique content. Namely, its Arts and Style sections. Then they need to have different options at different pricepoints for bundling it with the print product.

Of course, the naysayers argue that it will never work. Too many people are too accustomed to free news to begin paying for it now, they say. Those people will just jump to whatever site keeps their news free.

But if many of the larger news organizations begin implementing a paywall, sources of free news will be scarce. Business Insider, for example, would have a lot less to write about if its posts linking out to other content were useless to all readers that don't subscribe to the publication being sourced. Obviously, there will also be more limits on syndicating paid content.

Eventually, just as we have for centuries, people will have to choose what media is most important to them, pony up, and pay for it. The free ride was fun while it lasted, but it's coming to an end. A new era is under way.

And the Worldwide Leader is leading the charge.

600 Makes History, 252 Creates a Legacy

The ball had barely cleared the center-field fence on Wednesday when the discussion that would dominate the next 48 hours of sports coverage began. Should Rodriguez, an admitted steroid user who just added a 600th home run to his staggering list of accomplishments, be allowed entry into Cooperstown?

It's the question that's plagued confirmed and alleged steroid users for the last decade and in many ways is the biggest sports story of the 21st century. And quite frankly, I'm sick of it. Having no desire to read, watch and hear the same personalities rehash the same arguments I decided to call it quits on sports for the night.

Until, just as I was about to switch the radio dial, Michael Kay, the Yankees TV play-by-play man and an ESPN radio personality, launched a better discussion about a more intriguing question. Why is A-Rod so disliked?

Flickr via happyskrappy

As anyone who listens to sports radio can tell you, throw out an open-ended question to an audience of rabid sports fans, and you're bound to get answers that range from ridiculous to hilarious. If you can survive the stupidity and listen long enough you'll notice a consensus. The consensus here had A-Rod so disliked because he "consistently seems disingenuous."

Calling a star athlete disingenuous is like calling a director a perfectionist. It comes with the territory. In today's 24-hour media cycle people are constantly starved for every and any piece of news about star athletes. And we forget that the "star athlete" is often just a young man, sheltered by formative years of commitment to their sport, with millions of dollars to throw around. The athlete must put on an act--and be disingenuous--if he hopes to avoid being victimized by that cycle. Even the most beloved players will be shredded to pieces if they don't learn to tip-toe the line between being personable and politically correct. Derek Jeter, for example, walks that line like a gymnast. That's how you know he's disingenuous. Rodriguez, never truly learned to do the same.

Worse, A-Rod invited more scrutiny. He signed the largest contract ever guaranteed in North American sports: $252 million over 10 years. Obviously, anyone would have signed that contract, thanked the organization, the good lord, capitalism, and America. But once you're the highest paid guy--and by a substantial margin--you play with a bullseye on your back. To me, that's the true reason A-Rod is disliked. There's no underdog story when you make $252 million. Only unrealistic expectations.

And so people looked past all the home runs, the MVP trophies and the gold gloves. They focused on what he couldn't do. He couldn't win a championship. Fans conveniently forgot that one player does not, by himself, constitute a championship squad; they clearly disregarded his blank criminal slate and focused on his strip club attendance; they didn't care that he was one of the few steroid users to admit to his transgression without letting the story take on a life of its own. He's done mostly good, but fans focus on the bad.

It could have been different, too. If he made, say, just $150 million, he would have been perceived completely differently. Perhaps fans would have shrugged off his nightlife and attributed it to his good looks and considerable wealth. Maybe they would have appreciated the unimaginable dedication he had towards becoming the best. They might even have appreciated his apology and fallen for the player who hit rock bottom and admitted his transgressions, only to win the elusive ring later that season. Oh, what could have been.

But there are 252 reasons it didn't turn out that way.

The Enduring Fad

If you ask me, I’m just about never wrong. Sure, I might have missed a few questions on exams and things, but, as far as I’m concerned, I’m the conversational equivalent of a no-hitter: there might have been a walk or an error somewhere, but I’m nearly perfect.

So it pains me to say this, but today, on Monday, the 26th day of July, 2010, I realized I was wrong. Dead wrong. Twitter is not a passing fad; Twitter is not totally useless. In fact—I can’t believe I’m saying this—but Twitter can even serve some sort of purpose.

From just about the first time I heard about Twitter, I bashed it. Perhaps I should have known better when even the mainstream media, hesitant to accept blogs, universally embraced it. Maybe, I should have realized I was wrong when Medill professors consistently referenced it and many classmates I respect had their own Twitter account. But I definitely should have known I was wrong when I started quoting Kid Rock to justify myself.


Photo Courtesy of Jim Greenhill

"It's gay. If one more person asks me if I have a Twitter, I'm going to tell them, 'Twitter this [bleep], mother[bleep]er,' I don't have anything to say, and what I have to say is not that relevant. Anything that is relevant, I'm going to bottle it up and then squeeze it onto a record somewhere."

Slowly, I did begin to check Twitter. I never went so far as to have an account, but several times a week I would read other people’s tweets. I checked tweets from Kenny Powers, of Eastbound and Down fame, and of Coach_D_Antoni, the unauthentic alter-ego (provided by comedian Joe Praino) of the Knicks head coach that’s since been suspended. And there were hoards of reporters and athletes whose tweets would be quoted in news stories, and comedians whose Tweets were quoted in blogs I read. Still, I resisted.

During the World Cup, Twitter reported that at the height of the action—when some goals were scored—as many as 3,051 tweets were submitted per second. Unbelievable. Still, I was undeterred. Sure 3,051 people had something to say, I reasoned, but who cared enough to read what they had to say?

That's when I realized the truth: it doesn't matter. I had been completely unaware of something so painfully obvious. Twitter is, at its core, a blog. It's only different in that it limits the length of posts, and therefore the expectation that comments must be well thought out. It is successful because it encourages returning users by banking on frequent short posts beating out the infrequent long posting model that blogs, like Blogger, had locked down.

So the Twitter of tomorrow is a lot like the blogs of today. Many users will have accounts, but few will be worth following. And most of those worth following will belong to journalists, reporters and columnists we respect sharing quick scoops, commentary and links; celebrities and company spokespeople who want to engage their fans; and the occasional dark horse who is witty enough to keep users coming back for more.

And you know what? That future doesn't sound so bleak. In fact, sign me up. I hereby declare myself a Twitter follower. Maybe one day I'll even have something relevant to say in 140 characters or less. But for now, I'm old school. I'm just going to bottle it up and squeeze it into a blog somewhere. Twitter this [expletive], mother[expletive].

An Open Letter to the MTA

Dear MTA,

For 9 years we’ve had a great relationship. Growing up, the rides on your orange-and-yellow interior into the Manhattan were often more memorable than the trip itself. When I was 12 you helped me attain status: I was one of the cool kids at the Solomon Schechter Jewish day school who shunned the yellow bus for an afterschool slice and a ride home on the Q46. One year later I descended the stairs to your vast underground bowels for the first time without parents—it was more of a coming-of-age moment for me than my Bar Mitzvah that fall. In high school I did more homework riding your trains and busses than I ever did in my room (being the social climber I was, the lack of reception in your tunnels was a blessing). In college, I moved to Chicago but you were never far from my heart. While riding Chicago’s dreaded “el” I constantly spoke of your virtues compared to your Second City counterpart. You are the high school sweetheart I never had, the lover who never stopped giving, traveling at the fastest possible speeds so I could get to my preferred destination for $1.75 $2.00 $2.25. It’s been quite a love affair.

I’m afraid it’s coming to an end. You might think we've reached the twilight of our relationship because of the budget cuts, but really it has nothing to do with them. I promise.

It doesn’t bother me that you sent two of your underground tentacles, the V and the W, out to pasture. The part of the V line I took was replaced by the M, and the W was a redundant line anyway.

It’s unfortunate that you had to cut buses, too. It further shows your unfortunate tendencies to overlook non-Manhattan residents, and, especially the elderly most likely to ride those buses. But I can’t hate you for that. In an economy like this one, cuts are inevitable, and someone’s bound to be hurt.

There’s no love lost for announcing higher fares—again—while simultaneously cutting services. I understand that it’s unrealistic to expect to fork over just $2.00 for an unbelievably expansive transit network.

There’s been some recent unrest over your compensation benefits. Some people don’t like the vacation days your employees get, but I applaud you for your compensation packages. Working for you is a difficult job—you would have to pay a lot to get the investigative journalists that launched the “vacation days investigation” to join your ranks—and it’s one of the few well-paying jobs that lower income New Yorkers have a realistic shot at.

I’ll be honest, though, it does bother me a little bit that in the face of all these financial difficulties you’ve invested in a whole host of new train and bus models. I’d rather that money be spent elsewhere, but in an age of environmental radicalism, these efficient buses and trains were probably inevitable. Also, the heat down there, with temperatures reaching triple-digits above your tunnels, borders on unbearable.

Nevertheless, I’d still love you. Really, I would. I would choose to reminisce about my happier times with you, take the good and the bad—as any long love affair requires—if it weren’t for one thing. If only I never had to hear this again:

AP Image

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we apologize for the delay. There’s train traffic ahead of us, we’ll be moving shortly.”

I heard that message exactly 19 times last Thursday on my way to, and from, work. And yes, the recorded voice announcement is extremely irritating, but you know what’s really, so frustrating about the message? THAT THERE’S TRAIN TRAFFIC IN THE MIDST OF MASSIVE SERVICE CUTS. Simple logic says that if there are fewer cars on the road there will be less traffic, and so if there are fewer trains but more traffic, something is not adding up.

MTA, I’ve already found it within my heart to forgive you for enough transgressions to turn most of a city against you. Really, I’m trying to be patient, here. But if you’re going to take trains out of service, run them less frequently, raise fares and invest in efficient trains (which, by the way, are the trains plagued with the irritable recorded voice), it shouldn’t take me an hour and a quarter to travel what used to take just 45 minutes. My train shouldn’t stop repeatedly in the tunnel, and then halt, with opened doors releasing the train’s much needed cool air, at stations for an extra four-to-five minutes, and it sure as hell shouldn’t crawl along what’s advertised as an express line.

Oh, and my fellow F riders and I got the point the first 18 times. Take it easy already with that recorded message, will you?

Sincerely,
Adam Fusfeld

On Ownership and "Psychotic Ex-Girlfriends"

Ownership is a funny thing.

At the most basic level we own things because we want to do whatever we please with them. Kids can play with toys in nursery school, but they have to take turns using them. So they beg their parents for ownership rights. TVs can be viewed at bars and restaurants and every office place and library in America has a computer, but we want to be able to switch channels during commercials and watch that "Not Suitable for Work" YouTube video. The same principle applies for property, and just about any non-perishable, non-investment, ownership opportunity.

Except when it comes to sports. Rich men around the world pay millions of dollars so that they can call a professional sports franchise their own. They presumably crave the perks: the opportunity to befriend athletes, the celebrity status, and the show-off factor. But they're expected to leave the operation of that very franchise to other people--people who's paychecks they sign!--and treat their ownership as an investment. When people don't come to the ballpark, it's widely expected that the owner will invest less into the team. That's business as usual. (And, as we've all learned from the most recent LeBron episode, sports is a business.)

In David Halberstam's The Breaks of the Game, widely considered the best basketball book ever written--and a must-read for any Basketball Junkie--there's a great section where the owner of the Portland Trail Blazers, Larry Weinberg, vetoes a pending trade that would send disgruntled forward Maurice Lucas to the Bulls. The team's general manager, Stu Inman, was desperate to trade the player as contract issues were affecting his performance, and "was furious" at the "lack of professionalism" Weinberg displayed by rejecting the deal. Inman screams at him: "Are you really telling me that you are rejecting what I recommend and all your coaches recommend, and that you know more than us?" And Halberstam is quick to point out that though Weinberg was a shrewd business man "he hadn't spent the previous season in a hundred small motels in a hundred tiny towns watching a hundred college games."

Of course, basketball lifers' (including Inman) disdain for the game's relentless shift towards business and away from the spirit of sport is a central theme of the story. They don't like that basketball is a business, yet feel threatened when their owner isn't simply concerned with the return on his investment and wants a say in team operations. It's really a double-edged sword. The sports media and sports fans hate to be reminded that sports are a business, yet disapprove when the owners of their favorite franchise acts unprofessionally.



I bring this up in light of the two big sports ownership stories to hit in the last week: Dan Gilbert's letter to LeBron James, and George Steinbrenner's death. (Steinbrenner has been sanctified in the media postmortem, but before his age robbed him of his bombastic public image, he was widely despised). Rip the letter all you want, and disapprove of Steinbrenner's treatment of some stars, most notably Dave Winfield, but keep in mind these are the guys that own the team.

Gilbert's letter, if viewed as a statement from the owner of a business valued at hundreds of millions of dollars, was entirely unprofessional. His PR advisers surely would have urged him to release a statement ensuring his customers--I mean, fans--that business will continue as usual despite the major loss, and the corporation will do whatever possible to recoup as much of its losses as possible. Similarly, Steinbrenner would be lambasted in business for his inability to keep his anger to himself. Putting public pressure on employees is not a good "business practice." A good businessman would have displayed patience with Billy Martin, dealt with Dave Winfield in private, and not gone back on his promise of patience with Yogi Berra at the managerial helm.

But who wants to view sports as a business? What ultimately made Steinbrenner so well-loved was that for all his faults, no fan questioned his love for the team. He was the Yankees' owner, sure, but also the franchise's biggest fan. We can pull a Frank Costanza and lambast him for trading Jay Buhner, but we must keep in mind that he didn't make the trade to decrease the payroll and increase his income; he did it so that his team would win. And win now. Everything he did was a by product of perhaps his most famous mantra: "I hate to lose. Hate, hate, hate to lose."

The same goes for Gilbert's letter. Released less than an hour after "The Decision" aired, many noted that the letter reads like one written by a "psychotic ex-girlfriend." I love that description. Gilbert loved his team so much that he acted with his heart, and not the head that has earned him millions during a successful business career. He loves his team, loves his fans, and was hurt by his favorite player's decision. And in his response he talked about winning championships, not about losing season ticket-holders.

As fans, we like to speak about our favorite teams in the first person. "How did we do today?" "Do you think our coach made the right call?" How could the refs screw us like that!?" We have a sense of ownership over our team, so it's easy to forget that somewhere in the stadium there's a man that laid down staggering amounts of money to actually own the team. When he's able to put his financial investment aside, and have an emotional attachment to his team, we shouldn't help but love it. This style of ownership is likely the last remaining vestige of a time when sports were about the love of the game and not the dollars that come along with it. For better or for worse.