Everyone has that swaggering, loud friend who has an opinion about everything, and then, when you think about it, they’re right on the money. Well, that’s Rick Sanchez.
Rick has the capacity to take a story or opinion and make it his own. His passion for the news and events of the day are both entertaining and informative. His latest take on Fox News’ advertising stating that none of the other channels covered the Tea Party March on Washington reminded me of a mother defending her child.
Rick had some really good points during his rebuttal of that ad. He said that CNN reports news events, they don’t promote them like Fox News does. It’s true. CNN is where I go for the best in depth reporting. Things, however, have changed a lot.
Walter Cronkite had a very different style than the news anchors do today. Mr. Cronkite’s style of even, thoughtful delivery, with a balanced focus and non-combative approach was an open door to the acquisition of information. His presentation made everyone feel welcome into the newsroom. People trusted that information.
Rick Sanchez is clearly more emotional, appealing to the reality show culture of today. As a society, we are having Jerry Springer lives, working in New York Goes to Work jobs, playing in Real Chance at Love entertainment. We love to see people on “the box” get riled up, as we sit on our living room sofas, swilling beer, and allowing our brains to vegetate as much as possible to resolve the agitation we feel by the information overload we experience in our everyday lives.
Rick Sanchez is no Bill O’Reilly. Thank God. But, that same kind of emotionalism can be dynamic and, at the same time, unnerving.
Newscasters are not our friends. They are strangers who are invited into our homes to provide a service… a news service… and not entertainment. Why are we so desparate to have every moment of our lives filled with yelling and frenetic energy at a critical mass? What is wrong with our brains that we cannot allow a few moments peace to enter into our minds?
The Buddhists have been using meditation for centuries as part of their spiritual path toward clarity and unity. Most Americans today could no more meditate than fly from New York City to Brazil on just the power of their arms.
The television has become like a lung or kidney dialysis machine for our minds. We allow those on the flicker box to push information into our brains as we lie in our zombie-like states, sucking in the mix of information and garbage that infuses every day’s menu of programming.
When news reporters become news makers, a boundary is crossed that just doesn’t appeal to me.
I like Rick Sanchez. I watch him regularly. I even enjoy the emotionalism with which he peppers his reporting. This fashion of news is de rigueur in our time. So be it.
Perhaps because I’m getting older, I guess I just miss Mr. Cronkite and the stability I always felt with him. Those days are past, it seems, and, clearly, without a hope of returning to those days of yore, that’s the way it is.
As aggrieved as many people are for the loss of Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett, Michael Jackson, and Billy Mays, one can understand how the outpouring of sadness and sympathy can turn into a national near-obsession. That being said, one must also find the brake pedal for the intrusion into a celebrity’s private life, especially for the sake of the family. This level of feeding frenzy is reminiscent of vultures on a carcass.
As the national media has covered the death of Michael Jackson, every one of the channels has discussed his will, the custody of his children, the relationship he had with his father, and even the paternity and maternity of his children.
Has his family not one iota of permission to grieve over the loss of their son/brother/father in peace? Is it not enough that we have used Mr. Jackson as fodder for our discussions about his unusual behavior, questionable actions, and ever-changing appearance for the past forty years?
The man is dead. Dead. There is no more Michael Jackson in the assemblage of six billion people on the planet. Certainly his music lives on, as does his family; however, can we simply allow his passing to be handled respectfully and lovingly?
We are culture vultures. We scavange on every morsel of information as though it were our last meal. We tear apart every facet of a celebrity’s private life as though we had a right to it because we spent a few dollars on their albums. We are shameless as a people when it comes to our celebrities.
When President Franklin Delano Roosevelt was Commander-in-chief, not one newspaper ever showed a photograph of him in his wheelchair. Not one outlet discussed his polio. Certainly, no one discussed in the newspaper or on the newsreel about the infidelities within his marriage. It was understood that President Roosevelt deserved his privacy and that this level of exposure would be detrimental to our society and standing in the world of the day.
We haven’t one ounce of that sense left. We’re like the fools who shoot guns in the air because we have them and we want to show our power. We don’t give a damn about where the bullets land.
Enough already. Enough!
The news media is making the news, not reporting the news. They have not got a clue as to what is appropriate any more. Between our government and our media, we are a shell of our previous selves.
What a tragic statement about who we’ve become – a bunch of Jerry Springer guest-wannabes who shout at the top of their lungs to make their point and battle on subjects they know nothing about.
Isn’t it time we go back to our trailer parks, have a cool one, do some honest self-reflection about who we’ve become and how we got here rather than dissecting the lives of people we’ve never, ever met?