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I’ve folded all my napkins fancily on carefully placed plates on two eight foot tables in my dining room now, so I thought I would take a minute to relate another tale of woebegonery as pertains to the Saga Of Me Being Really Mean, By Jove.
As you know, my name got in the paper yesterday, via a report of Mary Jo Santoro and her spectacular miscalculation of trying to accuse me of threatening her. Sarah Favot wrote the piece, which I thought was pretty fair. It certainly didn’t make me flinch (and I flinch at being the center of attention on my own birthday, so there you go, another poke in the eye of the myth that This Is All About Me).
But it seems that the story, at least as it includes me, has been yanked from her apparently capable hands. (God, I hate to see another one bite the dust at the Sun. Any bets to how long she’ll stand it?) The torch has been passed, at least it appears, to Campi’s little shadow, Lyle Moran. I know this because he called me this afternoon (and I have heard that he called others as well). Out of a morbid curiosity I called him back. More on that in a sec - you’ll love it, it’s all about the sausage making, or in this case, amateurishly broadcasting your utter bias in a leading two-sentence “question.”
I do love being the Sun’s special case. It tickles me no end that Campi hasn’t lost his unhealthy obsession with “taking me down.” Like going after an unpaid blogger is all that hard. Wonder why they haven’t managed it yet? He must have been like a baby with his first successful poo, beside himself with glee, when this whole complaint thing came down. (The baby and poo thing is a euphemism. I don’t actually think Campanini wears diapers.)
Anyway, you might be awfully surprised to learn that I have very little interaction with Moran in general. I’ve heard from so many people just how amateur he acts, Jack likes to refer to the “cub reporter” after all. And I’ve read some of his drivel, articles with logical holes so large you can drive a train through them (so he really is learning a lot from his mentor). But personal experience? I barely exchange a word with the guy.
So I call him back, just to see what he would say. Call it an experiment in GOB observation. Or like watching the beginning of the universe on Hubble. I’ll be honest - I was on my way into my last market to pick something up and then run home to work on my now very nicely decorated and festive home so I wasn’t interested in a protracted anything, not that I would ever give Moran a single actual quote to mishandle and abuse, anyway. I’m not stupid! So an exact transcript of his ham-handed “question” I do not have. However, the gist of it was he was trying to get my reaction to his premise that my harsh language had crossed the line according to “other elected officials.” I nearly laughed out loud right then but held it together. I mean, seriously, can you come off as any more obvious?
Did I say Moran came off as ham-fisted? More like marching around with a whole pig stuck up his arm. Poor pig.
I think just because of the utter shamelessness of it, I am feeling the need to create another video commentary from a clip of the very next City Council meeting that includes a hissy fit from the beloved Councilor. Yes, I’m feeling like my Adobe Premiere has been woefully neglected as of late…
But anyway, I digress. Apparently, other elected officials (Elliot) feel that I’ve crossed the line (Elliot) in my commentary (Elliot). What Moran wanted me to say to him I have no idea. I told him I’d email him, and then posted about the whole Santoro complaint in the post below. I have a public forum. What do I need to get my words all twisted up by Moran for?
As an aside, I do really feel terrible for Lyle Moran. Imagine if he ever wants to get a job at any other paper but at the Lowell Sun? He’d be laughed out of the newsroom in two minutes flat, with his mad skillz at being completely biased. Most reporters do not come to a story with a foregone conclusion in search of supporting arguments, if you know what I mean.
So to wrap it up, expect an article from the cub reporter at some point…maybe…if he can actually make a story out of this; with extensive quotes from Councilor Rodney Elliot, beating me up. It’s kind of funny…I mean, I’ve really developed my thick skin over seven years. What could they possibly say that will have any bearing on my life? Or on my writing? Am I so influential as to be this much of a threat? Come on, I’m pilloried on a nearly weekly basis, so I am told, on that other guy’s blog (which houses comments from people like George DeLuca, who I cannot recall ever being anything but nice to…I think he has some sort of personal skin in the GLTHS game frankly, the venom he’s unleashed over there…I can’t imagine what else it could be). All I do is take what people do and say and point out hypocrisy and graft and public foolishness. I don’t really have to do much to doctor it up and package it with a little bow…they do it to themselves. Kind of like in the Bush years, when Jon Stewart declared satire and comedy dead. (And that is a euphemism by the way. There was no violence committed on comedy.)
I have to shake my head in bewilderment, even as this is like the millionth time I’ve seen this sort of thing go down this way. Honestly, the people of Lowell deserve a lot better than a bunch of ink spilled over a blogger. But, you know, anything to get Rodney Elliot another feature article I guess.
Oh, and I bet my traffic goes up bigtime. I do want to thank you guys for that. All of you. If anything is making this blog relevant, it’s the attention you so generously lavish on us. My heartfelt gratitude! And thanks also for giving me back my fire in my belly for this stuff. I think I might just have to start posting more often.
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