IN the old days, when they took polls about the most respected professions, journalists always scored pretty high. Usually above lawyers and judges and just below aluminum siding salesmen. Even the media
make mistakesToday, the news media can be found somewhere above the Society of Guys Who Pull the Wings Off Small Insects and below Professional Political Lobbyists with Fewer Than Three Felonies.
One complaint is that we are aloof. We claim to provide objective reporting, but too many times our own biases are presented. Students of history, however, would point out that objectivity is a fairly new aspect of journalism.
Another complaint is that media types are more than willing to criticize other professions but go easy on themselves.
Those of you who read this column regularly probably realize that I've constructed this rather elaborate introduction in order to dump on some of my fellow journalists.
Bingo.
But this is dangerous because it tends to set off a round of tit-for-tat among the media that can rival Arab-Israeli relations. Nevertheless, here we go:
I'll take the first hit myself. In a column a while back, I dumped on a couple of perpetual City Council watchers, Jerry Souza and Lillian Hong. These are the two who sit directly behind the Olelo camera so they appear on TV all the time. Frankly, I was tired of hearing them testify on every issue. But since then, I have come to really enjoy Hong, who has a knack for personalizing serious, often complicated issues in a way that many people can identify with. She serves almost as a "humanity filter" that converts bureaucratic mumbo-jumbo to common sense. She obviously has a great heart and it shows. Jerry, lose the tie.
Second target is my buddy, Dave "I Never Said I Was the Herb Caen of Hawaii" Donnelly, who curiously stuck my name in a recent column regarding some Pillsbury cook-off. He apparently thought that equating me with the Pillsbury Doughboy was hilarious.
Why my physical condition would be amusing to a guy who's been on death's door more than Jack Kevorkian, I don't know. But I'll withhold my amusing comments about Dave until the National Liver Board holds its convention here. (I'm working on something like, "More liver spots than a Dalmatian.")
Next on my radar: a usually entertaining columnist for a weekly newspaper that prides itself on being politically correct. He recently visited a country-western club in Waikiki where he said guys in cowboy hats and boots stuck out like "[excrement] in a punch bowl." Then he went on to ridicule the music, dancing and apparel of everyone involved.
I doubt he'd make similarly offensive remarks about a Japanese bon dance, Chinese lion dance, Hawaiian luau or any of the frequenters of leather bars, which advertise in his publication.
Finally, the morning paper has begun doing something that bugs the hell out of everyone I've talked to. In its "Getting It Straight" section, the paper has begun blaming typos, mistakes and clarifications on reporters, photographers, editors, wire services and PR flacks. Who cares? It makes it seem like the high-mucky-mucks are trying to say that everyone is responsible for mistakes in the paper except them. Of course they aren't personally responsible, because they aren't the ones actually writing or editing the stories.
Look, if you go into a restaurant and your order doesn't come out right, do you want the manager to come to your table and say it was the cook's fault? Or the waiter's or the busboy's? No. You don't care. It is the restaurant's fault. Period. It seems creepy for a newspaper to try to separate itself from its own mistakes.
