Leave Me My Name

A name is a very personal thing, every time I come across this I think of  a quote from The Crucible by Arthur Miller,

"Because it is my name! Because I cannot have another in my life! ... How may I live without my name? I have given you my soul; leave me my name!" 

This quote is about a man signing a document confessing to witchcraft and saving himself from hanging. But he cannot sign the document knowing it attaches his name to something false. He is concerned with not just the lie, but keeping his good name in the community. His name means something to him, it has his whole life behind it, everything he has done. So does my name. Why should I give all that up? Why should I change my name to something other than what is on every certificate, award, degree I earned before I got married, why should those things belong to someone else? Why should every photo I took or story I wrote be attributed to someone who no longer exists? And my marriage is an equal one, if I give all this up for Mr. Bowen what does Les give up for me? Why is it always the woman who gives up her name to take on the man's? Which brings me to my point...

Mr. and Mrs. Les Bowen, I don't know who the fuck they are, do you? Because my name is Heather Myers, it always has been and it always will be. Every year Les's extended family addresses cards and invitations (to things they know we won't attend) to Mr. and Mrs. Les Bowen. Why the hell would I open mail from people who either don't know my name or purposely disrespect my decision not to change my identity just because I signed a piece of paper legitimizing my personal relationship to the government?

For the first year after we got married I got things addressed to Heather Bowen all the time, as well as a few things addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Bowen. To every single one of them I politely reminded the sender that I chose not to change my name. I let all of Les's siblings and his parents know before the wedding. Some of them either forgot or didn't pay attention in the first place (I'd believe both). So when it came up I was polite and nice about it for the first little while.

But now Les and I have been married for more than four years. FOUR YEARS! Plenty of time, even if I'm lenient and only call it one Christmas card a year that is plenty of time to learn my name. We were together for more than two years before we were married on top of that. That is six years! 

Six years that I have been in contact with most of these people (not all of them, some will only attend Mormon functions that I have  no desire to be associated with) and you still don't know my name? My slightly different concept of marriage isn't good enough for you? You can't accept that I choose not to change a very deep intimate part of my identity for a man who doesn't do anything even remotely similar in return? You won't even pretend to honor not just my wishes but my legal name? Fuck you then. And do me a favor, leave me my name.

Nontraditional Traditional Thanksgiving

This Thanksgiving Les decided he wanted to do a traditional turkey dinner.

From November 2010

In the six Thanksgivings we've been together this has never been brought up before. While we were in Utah we always had Thanksgiving with our families. In Washington we ate with our neighbors or worked, sometimes both. But I think moving across the country and not knowing anyone is making Les homesick, even if he doesn't realize it.

I found it odd because we are not traditional people, certainly not by the standards Les is used to. We lived together before we got married, when we did get married it was in a courthouse and it was performed by (GASP!) a woman and I kept my last name. In fact our wedding was so nontraditional we didn't even get a gravy boat, as a result we had to pour our gravy out of a measuring cup on this, our first traditional Thanksgiving. We don't have kids, we aren't going to either. We don't go to church on Sunday (or any other day of the week for that matter). Completely nontraditional.

Even though this was a traditional turkey dinner Thanksgiving (for just the two of us we had a 10-lb. turkey, rolls, cranberry sauce, peas, green beans, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, mashed sweet potatoes, olives, fudge brownie cheesecake and pumpkin sandwich cookies), Les did all the cooking.

From November 2010

I don't cook and I don't touch dead birds, even if they have been previously plucked and frozen. While Les was cooking I took pictures, drank rum and enjoyed a Star Trek TNG marathon on BBC America.

Before we even started the big day I found it interesting that Les, who has the big traditional family with their close ties, called his mother to ask the best way to cook the turkey. They talked for approximately 5 minutes all told and she told him to read his cookbook. So I called my nontraditional dad, the man who raised two kids on his own, yes a man. He and his wife (married a year after Les and I were) talked me through every step of cooking the turkey which I then relayed to Les. Then my dad and I talked about all kinds of stuff until my phone started to die, it was almost an hour. Les's mother couldn't talk when he called her because he had interrupted her knitting of mittens. I wonder if maybe she would have been more helpful if I had called her asking for cooking advice, as is my womanly duty.

From November 2010

Some Thoughts on Photography

I decided to do the 365 project on a whim. One of my friends had been posting his shots and I clicked on it. I had been doing nothing for a while but working and sleeping and I had been looking for something to occupy my time. Honestly I was thinking volunteering at the library or learning to knit, photography hadn't really crossed my mind. But as I got looking at the site I decided I had a camera and Les had taught me the basics of photography, so I thought why not?

I had no clue what I was getting myself into. I started that night by taking a picture of the fire burning in our stove. From then on I carried my little point and shoot FujiFilm camera (that I had purchased while working at K-Mart for $38 on clearance) everywhere I went. It wasn't that hard most days to take a picture, but as I got better I became more and more frustrated by the limited capabilities of the camera. Specially I was frustrated by the lack of control of shutter speed, I love to do long exposures of water. Occasionally borrowing Les's work camera held me over a little bit.

But eventually the time came when I needed an upgrade. The point and shoot had been dropped so many times it had terrible noise in every photo, even at the lowest ISO, and I could only do so much to get rid of it in Photoshop. And due to Les's crappy but well-paying job and my super amazing Goodwill job, we had the money for an SLR. It's low end, mind, but new and well functioning and I certainly appreciate it's functions. And really what is more important the camera or the photographer?

Now to the point of this post, a recent discussion on 365 made me think. Many of my friends and family have told me I could do this for a living, my dad is particularly vocal about it. But I just don't think I'm that good. This discussion made me think about it more. I have shot a wedding, but I did it for a friend and I didn't even think about charging her. I have done a paid photo shoot of some children, again for a friend and what she paid me was really only to cover my gas (and didn't cover the ticket I got following her around town).

From Cuevas Kids

I have thought about setting up a website to sell some of my shots, but I am certainly not going to make a living off of it. I have take pictures for friends, and occasionally charged them for it, but I am certainly not going to make a living at it. But does what I do have an impact on the professional photographers out there? Does it erode the profession of photography?

I think not. If I were to sell my stuff on a website, I was thinking prints, maybe some other related things, I don't think it would really affect professional photographers in any way. In no way more than sites like Etsy.com affect the jewelry or clothing industries. An as for the jobs, I'm never going to take jobs like the one advertised in the discussion, when I do it, even if I charge, I do it for friends, for people who approach me. Neither of the shoots I reference here would have gone out and hired professional photographers if I hadn't done it. I'm not out there advertising and offering to do senior portraits or weddings. I do, in no way, consider myself a professional. And I don't think I ever will be.

Having said that, doing the 365 project has changed my life (and I'm not even done with it yet). I am more confident behind and in front of the camera, the latter something I never foresaw. And I see the world differently, I find myself noticing things I never would have if I wasn't looking for a photo. Maybe this would have been better suited at the end of my project, but the discussion really got me thinking. I certainly can't imagine my life now without photography, It started out as something to do and not I love it and it's a huge part of my life and always will be.

An interesting side note the friend whose link I clicked posted fewer than 30 photos (nothing wrong with that, it wasn't for him), I have now posted 273 consecutive photos without fillers or cheats.

NY Move

As many of you know, we recently moved from Washington state to upstate New York. Like the insane people we are, we drove. This is our story and some things I learned along the way.

From September 2010

Our original plan was to leave on Tuesday, September 7th. But after an incident with Les's employer and a lot of rain we decided to take an extra day and do a better job of packing our truck and trailer and cleaning our house. We packed our entire lives into a compact car, a 1978 pickup truck and a small U-Haul trailer. As a result, a lot of stuff was left behind, donated to Goodwill or given away.

We set out around 10 a.m. from Ardenvoir, Les and Jet in the truck hauling the trailer and me with both cats and Luna in the car. It had been raining for about three days, but seemed like it was clearing up. It wasn't.

The first day went pretty well. We stopped once in Spokane for gas and made it almost all the way across Idaho without stopping again. This made me happy as I have quite the dislike of Idaho, northern Idaho in particular. It smells like cow poo and the people are just plain strange. The one place we did stop, I was hooted at and complimented on my (ankle-length) skirt from a passing pickup truck.

Once we hit Montana, it started raining again.

From September 2010

And I don't mean a little bit of sprinkling, I mean full-blown, can't-see-three-feet-in-front-of-you pouring. There were actual white-out conditions whenever there were two big vehicles around, I've never seen that from rain before. Add to that the construction we encountered where they direct you across the median and have two way traffic on one side of the freeway for 30 and 40 mile stretches and you have the reason I really hate to drive.

Our goal for the night was between Butte and Bozeman, we only made it to Missoula. We stopped around 10:45 at a KOA and pitched a tent in the rain. We woke up pretty early but getting everything reorganized and taken down took a lot longer that we thought. We weren't on the road again until a little after 9 a.m.

By the time we got to Butte, Les decided it was raining so hard that we needed a bigger tarp. We stopped at a Wal-Mart and he went in and bought a new, bigger tarp. While putting it on and securing it down I discovered there was no gas cap on the truck. So Les went back into the Evil to buy a replacement. He came back out some 20 minutes later with the box for the correct cap, but that isn't what was in the box. He went back into the store and came out with a replacement, it didn't fit. Since we had been sitting in the parking lot of the Evil for two hours at this point we decided to just chance it and keep going. We stopped for gas before leaving Butte and, wouldn't you know it, there was a NAPA just across the street. So Les went in and got the correct part. That was two and a half hours in Butte after getting a late start and being behind to boot.

Then there was a lot more of Montana, a lot more rain and a lot more driving on the wrong side of the freeway. In Crow Agency, Montana, we left the freeway to take a federal highway that cuts a corner of I-90. We found this route in the GPS and we were told about it by the ex trucker/KOA nazi who checked us in in Missoula. But this road was, shall we say, less than pleasant. It was very rutted, for those of you in Carbon County, picture the last quarter mile of Airport Road coming back toward Wal-Mart 20 years from now. The wheels of the trailer were riding in the ruts and the chains were throwing sparks, but there was no way of fixing it. We stopped three times on this road because Les thought there was something wrong with the trailer. Finally, around 1:30 a.m. we came to a rest area in the bottom corner of nowhereville Montana and slept in the cars.

From September 2010

We woke up before dawn and hit the road again, this time much quicker with no wet tent to deal with. We stopped for gas in the first town we hit in South Dakota and made a wonderful discovery. We had no debit card, yay! Les used the cash we had to fill up the truck while I dealt with the stupidest customer service rep on the face of the planet. Now, I have worked customer service, I know how hard that job is, but she was terrible. I told her the story, we were moving from Washington to New York and we were currently somewhere in the middle. I asked her to find me the closest branch so I could withdraw some cash, she did not have the mental capacity to understand that I was somewhere other than either my old address or my new address. She found me a branch in Wenatchee and one in Rochester, but wouldn't listen when I told her I was more than a thousand miles away from either of those places. It was the second most frustrating conversation I've ever had. (Ironically the most frustrating one happened last time we moved and was over the phone as well.)

We continued on our way, eventually finding a wi-fi hotspot and doing the customer service rep's job for her. This is where the waiting an extra day to leave came in handy. Because it just happened to be my payday and my paycheck is automatically deposited into an account we did have debit cards for. So that situation wasn't as bad as it could have been. I did take Les's wallet away from him though. I only allowed him to keep his license and that went in the glove compartment with the registration and the insurance card. Even now, I have qualms about letting him carry his wallet or money around.

About halfway across the state of Iowa (in the middle of the night) the headlights in the truck stopped working unless Les held his foot down on the brights switch, which is located on the floor. He drove for more than an hour like this. We stopped for the night, if you could call it that, on another detour around the corner of the freeway around 2:45 a.m. at the city park in Nashua, Iowa. Again we crashed in the cars, but this time we let the cats out of their carriers into the truck and I got to sleep in the car with both dogs.

From September 2010

We got a slightly later start on what was supposed to be the last day of driving, partly for sleep reasons and partly so Les wouldn't need his headlights. Around 6:45 a.m. we hit the road with the end in sight. The dogs were really feeling it. Luna, who had spent the first three days looking out the window, slept facing me almost all day. When she wasn't sleeping, she was making a face into the mirror that said, “Can we be done now, please?” The cats were also much more vocal than they had been since the first few hours of the trip. It was slightly slower going than we thought, we were under the assumption that the truck was going to be slowed down more by crossing the Rockies when in fact the wind on the plains posed more of a problem. I made it through the south end of Chicago by following right on Les's bumper. We got to Indiana and Les stopped to fix the light switch in the truck, I was really surprised that it only took about 20 minutes and $9. The gas cap situation was much worse.

At that point we had the GPS avoiding toll roads, it would have gotten us all the way here on free roads, but it was adding like three hours to our time. So we sucked it up, found at ATM and hit the Indiana Tollway.

From September 2010

It was a terrible road and I didn't think we should have to pay for the privilege of driving on it. We hit night rates for most of the states, so we didn't wind up paying that much in tolls. We decided around Ohio that we were just going to push through, we would make it without stopping for the night. When we stopped to buy gas we got our first energy drinks of the trip. We pulled over at a rest area for 30 minutes. Les took the dogs while I slept. When I woke up I drank half the energy drink and we continued on through Pennsylvania. Once we hit the New York Tollway it was pretty much smooth sailing. It is the nicest road I have ever driven on and I didn't have any problems paying $3 for it. We stopped at the first travel plaza in New York shortly before dawn and I took the dogs and Les slept for 30 minutes. When he woke up he drank the rest of the energy drink and we continued on.

We arrived around 9:30 a.m. local time and as soon as we got the animals settled in,

From September 2010

we slept until the cable guy arrived at noon. The final tally was 2,728.8 miles in 90 hours (only 14.5 of were used for sleeping) and 13 states. Our house is on the east shore of Conesus (pronounced con-NEE-shus for some reason) Lake. It is fully furnished and so most of our stuff is in a storage unit right now. It is also about 1/3 the size of the house we just moved out of so it is taking a little getting used to for everyone.

Les is working in a town about 13 miles away, a much shorter commute than what either of us had in Washington. He is liking his new job, for once he is not the youngest person in the office. His boss is actually a few moths younger than him for once. He is getting familiar with the system of government here, it is a little different from anything they have out west. I am waiting to look for a job until we have a little bit of money to build a kennel for the dogs. We can leave them alone for a few hours at a time, but we have qualms about leaving them inside by themselves for too much longer than that.

We have noticed several things that are different here that we weren't really expecting. Almost no one has a fenced in yard, we haven't really figured out a reason for that but the few fences we have seen have been between property lines and don't enclose anything. There is almost no Hispanic population here, Les's Spanish is pretty much useless and it took us a week and five different grocery stores to find corn tortillas. It is very green and we can't wait for the leaves to start changing. The cost of living is drastically lower, we are constantly surprised at how cheap things are. It is very quaint and even more quintessentially small town than Chelan was.

So, thing I learned on this trip in no particular order.

• I can drive long distances when I have to, but I still prefer not.
• I am capable of backing up with only mirrors.

From September 2010

• Montana is a bitch, if you ever have the opportunity to NOT to drive across it, I highly recommend you take it.
• Sleep is highly overrated.
• My animals all have very different, and interesting, taste in music.
• Les can't be trusted to hold onto anything that isn't pinned to him.
• Driving all the way across America does not make you more patriotic.
• South Dakota isn't as bad as I thought it would be, there are a lot more people than I was led to believe.
• Sian hates Fergie! At first I thought it was just the bass in the Black Eyed Peas songs, but any time she heard Fergie's voice, she started hissing.
• The state sport of Iowa is tailgating. There could be four cars on a mile-long stretch of highway and they would all be six inches from each other.
• Sleeping in a tent is horrible, I don't know why anyone does it voluntarily. I would much rather sleep sitting up in the driver's seat than in a tent.
• A lot more truckers than you would think have little, tiny dogs. I find this amusing.
• Going a week without makeup may save time, but you get treated a lot differently (except in Idaho, I'm sure I don't have to tell you why).
• Once you hit South Dakota people will start giving you weird looks when they see Washington plates.
• Shoes suck. I drove barefoot for more than 2,000 miles.
• A 1978 Chevy Scottsdale is the most resilient vehicles I have ever come across. It made it the whole way only needing one part and to be jump-started if it had been running for more than 12 hours. I consider that petty good for a vehicle that is older than both of us.
• If you ever go to Indiana, pee first. Every single restroom I tried to use in that state was out of order.

C'est La Vie

“The adventure of life continues. As much as I plan and dream and try to anticipate every outcome, I will never know what lies around the next corner or down whatever road I choose to take. That's the exciting and frightening reality of life. I wouldn't want it any other way, however. As a Mormon, life was forced to fit into a master plan. Everything had a reason and a purpose. Screw that! Give me chaos and uncertainty. It's much more fun.”

I ran across this quote in a letter the other day. It was actually an old letter from 2006 and not even addressed to me. But I was organizing and it caught my eye. It is the typical conclusion of an exmormon. And without the bit about life as a Mormon, not really a bad observation on life. Something about really stuck a chord with me.

I see so many of my friends and the people in my life try to control, not only everything in their own lives, but in the lives of their friends, neighbors and family members. And, not surprisingly, they are unsuccessful and often unhappy because of it.

I'm not saying one should just give up on life, but there are times when circumstances will be beyond your control. There will be people in your life you can't help or save. There will be people in your life who don't want your help or saving. There will be accidents, there will be mistakes, there will be tragedies.

For a long time I have tried unsuccessfully to put into words how I feel about this, even in typing this post I have gone back and deleted more than is actually written in the final product. But as much as I try, I can't seem to do better than a 28-year-old convicted felon facing release from prison.

Quote by Trevor Bowen, May 30, 2006.

City Slicker

So yesterday I went for a little hike looking for photos. I was four miles away from home, by myself with no cell coverage in the middle of nowhere. Being out there was nice, it was very good weather, I saw some pretty awesome flowers and this really cool butterfly.

While I was reading the sign, deciding whether or not to go up the Mad River Trail, a man came down from the trail and scared the crap out of me. I realized then that I am truly a city girl at heart. This man was nice enough, explained how he loved the geography of the area and was on his way home. He made me nervous and I was relieved when he went on his way.

I realized while walking a little way on the trail that had I been by myself in “a bad a neighborhood,” and the same man had come up to me, it wouldn't have bothered me in the least. I know how to carry myself in the city. I know how to walk and who to approach and even how to deal with things like whistles and cat calls. But this nice, friendly man in the middle of nowhere gave me the creeps.

It makes me realize how much of a city slicker I really am, even if I am living 40 minutes from a city. And it's a small city at that.

Spring Fever!

I have ants in my kitchen again. This, oddly, makes me happy. I am not happy that we have ants again, they ruin many things. But the fact that they are back makes me happy because it means Spring is closer than I thought.

Unfortunately this seems to be bringing out the weirdos to the Entiat Valley.(Photos by Monte, one of they guys on the bus in the morning.) The other night Les saw the dome light on in the car, and it turned off while he was outside. So someone had to have opened the car door, it wasn't just that he left it on. Nothing was missing but it was still weird. Last Saturday night there was a bonfire behind the store for no apparent reason and tonight I called 911 on some idiots who were in the field next door. They had a truck down in the field and flashlights and they started a fire. I've never called 911 for anything other than a car accident before.

Sometimes shit like this makes me want a gun. We just live so far away from anything. I think I would feel better if we had a gun in the house.

On one hand, it's not like we have kids in the house and it would make me feel safer. It would only be a small gun and, ideally, I would never use it.

On the other hand I would really hate for there to be some kind of accident. Plus, really hate those right wing nut jobs who scream about, “the government trying to take away our Second Amendment rights,” because they want to make it harder to buy assault rifles. And I don't want to be associated with them in any way (including being counted among gun owners.) Being related to them is bad enough.

I'll definitely have to think about it.

The Maker of Lists

I am a maker of lists. Lists make life easier, and frankly, I have fun making them. I used to think this made me weird, now I don't care. My life is too much easier with them for me to over think it.

I make grocery lists specific to store and sale price, I make to-do lists almost every day, and I get so much more done when I do than when I just wing it. I make lists of books I want to read, movies I want to see and music I want to download.

But I am most in my list making element whenever we go on a trip, I make a list of things I need to pack. Then I make a list of stuff we need to do before we leave the house. And I always make a list of the things we need pack in the morning after we use them, like toothbrushes and such.

But this has not always been the case. Les claimed his mother used to make lists before every family vacation and would become so frantic over them it made getting ready for trips miserable. So when we first got together I let him have his way and just winged it when ever we went somewhere. I shouldn't have.

I started making lists like this on the first trip after we took after we got married. Not including our honeymoon. In fact it is one of our favorite stories now that it is in the past and we are not miserable.

On the morning after our wedding we got up at 4 a.m. (after going to bed around midnight) and left for Albuquerque. At around 6:30 we stopped in Moab for breakfast at Denny's. Around 7:15 we were done eating and Les went up to the counter to pay. It was at this point we realized he did not have his wallet. So we turned around and went back to Price. We found his wallet and figured since we were in town on a work day we might as well stop and deposit all the checks we had received as wedding gifts. So around 10 a.m. after finding everything and an involved conversation with Bank Aunt we hit the road again.

We did not arrive in Albuquerque until almost 11p.m.! We went straight to bed so it wasn't until the next morning that we realized we had forgotten the bag with all of our toiletries in it. So we spent the second day of our honeymoon attempting to locate a drug store and buying soap, shampoo, toothpaste, etc...

So now I make lists. And every time we go on a trip the first thing on every list I make is WALLET!

Chick Crap

Today I bought the perfect purse. I have been looking for a new purse since July. I am very picky when it comes to purses. I bought a purse when Les and I were in Vancouver last October, but it is a little too small and is made of nylon or polyester or something. It also has Vancouver 2010 Olympic logos on it, it is a nice souvenir, and I will most likely carry it again one of these days. But it is just not perfect.

After trying out several different types and styles of purses, I have finally narrowed down the perfect one for me. It has to be canvas, leather is much too likely to get eaten. It has to have a long strap that can go across me, if it only goes over one shoulder I will set it down somewhere and forget about it. It has to have lots of pockets and organizational structure or I will never find anything and be one of those annoying people who hold up the line at the grocery store.

Most of the purses I have found that meet all of my criteria look like diaper bags. I will not be seen carrying a diaper bag, I put up with enough shit from people already. I can't even get an upset stomach without someone asking if I am pregnant.

Today I found one that is like an organizer on a long strap, but with a purse pocket in the middle. And it is made of canvas. It is perfect and has made me extremely happy. It is rare for me to feel like such a girlie girl, but there isn't much girlier than getting excited over a new purse.

Population Explosion

Is it any wonder the world is overpopulated?

I know I am of an age where my friends are beginning to procreate. (I won't start on how much I hate the phrase "start a family.") But seriously, without looking I can think of five of my friends just on Facebook who announced they were pregnant in the last six weeks. And I only have 170 Facebook friends.

Five in the last six weeks! That isn't counting the several women who were already pregnant, the at least seven who have had babies in the last few months, any men whose significant other may be pregnant, or any of the people I know who aren't on Facebook. It floors me.

And maybe part of the reason I have a hard time with it is that I have absolutely no desire to procreate myself. Yes, I am 23 female and alive. Shocking I know.

And I really hate it when people tell me that I am still young so I couldn't possibly know if I want children or not, or when they flat out tell me I will change my mind when I get older. Would anyone of those people tell one of my pregnant friends she might change her mind when she gets a little older? Or that she is too young to know if she wants kids or not? Of course they wouldn't! Because everyone is supposed to want children. In fact, I bet if I said I wanted children no one would tell me I am too young or that I would change my mind. I would bet money.

Photomania

So I have been taking far too many photos lately. But I'm having fun doing it. The most fun has probably been the water photos. If I had a decent camera I would probably be really obsessed with water photography right now. I have a decent film camera and have done some interesting water shots with it. But right now I'm in instant gratification mode and have been sticking with my digital point and shoot. Every once and a while I have access to Les's work camera, which usually turns out awesome results, if I do say so myself.

Spring is not too far away and that should make for some interesting photography. I noticed today the trees around the house are just barely starting to bud. Also it was 83 degrees in the living room in the middle of the afternoon today, when the sun was coming through the back windows. Both of these things make me insanely happy. I really hate the cold.

Things are looking up on the house front. So far it seems like we won't have to move come May 1. This is quite a load off my mind. Our landlord isn't the best in the world, but he is certainly not the worst. As long as he isn't planning to sell we are happy to stay put. We really like the house, and the dogs are happy here, they have a nice routine down.

One last observation, blogging is cathartic. I think I like it.

Newsworthy

We recently saw a clip from Sarah Palin's recent appearance on the Tonight Show. At one point she says she dislikes mainstream media, even spouting Fox News' (now obsolete) catchphrase "Fair and Balanced."

Putting aside that Fox News is neither fair nor balanced, neither is pretty much all of the "news" on cable. For that matter, so much of what's on the major networks is so sensational and driven by ratings, that real journalism is in scarce supply -- particularly on television.

Gone are the days of Walter Cronkite and Edward R Murrow. More than a generation later, news anchors don't report the news. On the rare occasion that a genuine, professional journalist feeds a decent piece of objective news into the studio, it's so mashed up with the opinions of producers, anchors and owners that it's almost unrecognizable as journalism by the time it shows up on screen.

All too often it happens in radio and print journalism as well, but it seems that television newscasts, particularly cable television newscasts are nothing more than a long line of pundits who are willing to say exactly what the network executives want us to hear.

So much for drawing our own conclusions about the world around us.