Bright idea was doggone funny
By
Rory Ryan-hcpress@cinci.rr.com
Conventional wisdom suggests that owning one’s own newspaper might be
best left to the professionals.
After all, as Baltimore’s second-most famous journalist, H.L. Mencken,
said “A newspaper is a device for making the ignorant more ignorant and the
crazy crazier.”
Then again, no one’s ever accused me of being conventional – or wise.
For three decades now in the publishing business, the only professionals
I’ve attempted to live up to are Mr. Mencken, formerly of The Baltimore Sun;
Jay Brushart, a former editor with The Portsmouth Daily Times; and the
erstwhile publisher of The Shinbone Star, Dutton Peabody, (a.k.a. actor
Edmond O’Brien) in the movie “The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance.”
My daughter Meghan knows all too well her father’s and her grandfather’s
favorite quote from Dutton Peabody. (You’ll have to ask her about that one.)
Aside from H.L., Mr. Peabody, and a handful of others, a goodly number
of the industry “professionals” can kiss my newsprint-ink-stained hands for
what they’ve done to the printed word. (For the sake of clarity, quotation
marks are used around “professionals” in order that we can
distinguish real journalists from the Industry Bean Counters who grossly
outnumber the real workers in many corporations.)
The newspaper power-brokers are now reaping what they have sown. Some of
us tried to tell them that you can’t continue to weaken the quality and
raise the price; but the Bean Boys always knew best. Just deserts, though,
are never as sweet as real desserts.
This is my 30th consecutive year of making a living via the printed
word. (I started when I was 6! No comments from the Peanut Gallery, please.)
I haven’t learned everything about the business, but I do know a few things.
I do know that good community newspapers have a better chance at
long-term success than some of the Big Box Bean Boy Broadsides that only
pretend to make local decisions.
Fact: I personally deliver newspapers each and every week. So do members
of our staff, in addition to our hard-working newspaper carriers. Ask
yourself: When was the last time a corporate owner personally delivered a
newspaper to you? Hmm. Probably hasn’t happened lately, has it? Would you
even know them if they did?
But enough of this talk. Even after 30 years in the printing business, I
still have a lot to learn. For example, one of the things I recently learned
is this: Do not mess around with classified advertising gimmicks. I tried
recently. It doesn’t always work.
Not too many weeks ago, the Ryan K-9 Clan, as it were, had two females
who decided to have two litters (one each) of puppies at the same time
(relatively speaking).
It was my bright – and doggone funny – idea to take one small liberty of
newspaper ownership and publish the following advertisement: “Buy a
classified ad and get a free puppy.”
In the aftermath of this seemingly good idea, let me offer these words
of wisdom to all other newspaper publishing companies: Do not mix humor and
classified ads for puppies. It’s like mixing absinthe and paragoric. Or
coffee and paragoric. Or Ex-Lax and paragoric.
Once we sent the well-intentioned ad to the press, we had no other
choice but to live with the results. At the end of it all, the results were
good – with a few exceptions.
We did find homes for all 5 million and some puppies without calling a
former Hillsboro Lady Indians infielder, who likes dogs more than she likes
my sense of humor, and whose father and uncle were my Little League Baseball
coaches.
But we did have a few “incidents,” shall we say. The funniest one, to
me, happened a few weeks ago when a would-be puppy-picker-upper and I chased
a small, black Lab mix all over our backyard. About the moment that I
captured and contained the small rodent, I mean dog, a very pleasant-looking
young lady looked up from just outside my bedroom window.
“Do you know there’s a can of beer in your window?” she asked.
Now, for those gentle readers who have never been called upon to respond
to such a delicate question, please let me give you my best advice. All
right, here it is.
I stared the pleasant-looking young lady (she knows who she is) right in
the eye and said, “Well, I should hope so. If it’s a Keystone Light, I put
it there.
“However, if it’s a PBR, that might have been Ratchethead’s brew,” I
told her. “He’s also been known to take advantage of the seasonal, outdoor
refrigeration.”
Personally, I never could stand the taste of Pabst Blue Ribbon, but I
liked their old advertising slogans like “PBR me ASAP.”
In closing, (“in closing” are the two most appreciated words in every
newspaper column and in every single speech, including Lincoln’s Gettysburg
Address), so, in closing, since we began this column by quoting the
second-most famous journalist from Baltimore, let’s end the darned thing the
same way.
From H.L. Mencken: “There is a saying in Baltimore that crabs may be had
in 50 ways – and that all of them are good.” (And) “Have you ever watched a
Chesapeake Bay crab on the shore crawling backward in search of the Atlantic
Ocean, and missing it? That’s the way the mind of man operates.”
Don’t stop the presses for this gem!
Rory Ryan is publisher and editor of The Highland County Press.[[In-content Ad]]
best left to the professionals.
After all, as Baltimore’s second-most famous journalist, H.L. Mencken,
said “A newspaper is a device for making the ignorant more ignorant and the
crazy crazier.”
Then again, no one’s ever accused me of being conventional – or wise.
For three decades now in the publishing business, the only professionals
I’ve attempted to live up to are Mr. Mencken, formerly of The Baltimore Sun;
Jay Brushart, a former editor with The Portsmouth Daily Times; and the
erstwhile publisher of The Shinbone Star, Dutton Peabody, (a.k.a. actor
Edmond O’Brien) in the movie “The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance.”
My daughter Meghan knows all too well her father’s and her grandfather’s
favorite quote from Dutton Peabody. (You’ll have to ask her about that one.)
Aside from H.L., Mr. Peabody, and a handful of others, a goodly number
of the industry “professionals” can kiss my newsprint-ink-stained hands for
what they’ve done to the printed word. (For the sake of clarity, quotation
marks are used around “professionals” in order that we can
distinguish real journalists from the Industry Bean Counters who grossly
outnumber the real workers in many corporations.)
The newspaper power-brokers are now reaping what they have sown. Some of
us tried to tell them that you can’t continue to weaken the quality and
raise the price; but the Bean Boys always knew best. Just deserts, though,
are never as sweet as real desserts.
This is my 30th consecutive year of making a living via the printed
word. (I started when I was 6! No comments from the Peanut Gallery, please.)
I haven’t learned everything about the business, but I do know a few things.
I do know that good community newspapers have a better chance at
long-term success than some of the Big Box Bean Boy Broadsides that only
pretend to make local decisions.
Fact: I personally deliver newspapers each and every week. So do members
of our staff, in addition to our hard-working newspaper carriers. Ask
yourself: When was the last time a corporate owner personally delivered a
newspaper to you? Hmm. Probably hasn’t happened lately, has it? Would you
even know them if they did?
But enough of this talk. Even after 30 years in the printing business, I
still have a lot to learn. For example, one of the things I recently learned
is this: Do not mess around with classified advertising gimmicks. I tried
recently. It doesn’t always work.
Not too many weeks ago, the Ryan K-9 Clan, as it were, had two females
who decided to have two litters (one each) of puppies at the same time
(relatively speaking).
It was my bright – and doggone funny – idea to take one small liberty of
newspaper ownership and publish the following advertisement: “Buy a
classified ad and get a free puppy.”
In the aftermath of this seemingly good idea, let me offer these words
of wisdom to all other newspaper publishing companies: Do not mix humor and
classified ads for puppies. It’s like mixing absinthe and paragoric. Or
coffee and paragoric. Or Ex-Lax and paragoric.
Once we sent the well-intentioned ad to the press, we had no other
choice but to live with the results. At the end of it all, the results were
good – with a few exceptions.
We did find homes for all 5 million and some puppies without calling a
former Hillsboro Lady Indians infielder, who likes dogs more than she likes
my sense of humor, and whose father and uncle were my Little League Baseball
coaches.
But we did have a few “incidents,” shall we say. The funniest one, to
me, happened a few weeks ago when a would-be puppy-picker-upper and I chased
a small, black Lab mix all over our backyard. About the moment that I
captured and contained the small rodent, I mean dog, a very pleasant-looking
young lady looked up from just outside my bedroom window.
“Do you know there’s a can of beer in your window?” she asked.
Now, for those gentle readers who have never been called upon to respond
to such a delicate question, please let me give you my best advice. All
right, here it is.
I stared the pleasant-looking young lady (she knows who she is) right in
the eye and said, “Well, I should hope so. If it’s a Keystone Light, I put
it there.
“However, if it’s a PBR, that might have been Ratchethead’s brew,” I
told her. “He’s also been known to take advantage of the seasonal, outdoor
refrigeration.”
Personally, I never could stand the taste of Pabst Blue Ribbon, but I
liked their old advertising slogans like “PBR me ASAP.”
In closing, (“in closing” are the two most appreciated words in every
newspaper column and in every single speech, including Lincoln’s Gettysburg
Address), so, in closing, since we began this column by quoting the
second-most famous journalist from Baltimore, let’s end the darned thing the
same way.
From H.L. Mencken: “There is a saying in Baltimore that crabs may be had
in 50 ways – and that all of them are good.” (And) “Have you ever watched a
Chesapeake Bay crab on the shore crawling backward in search of the Atlantic
Ocean, and missing it? That’s the way the mind of man operates.”
Don’t stop the presses for this gem!
Rory Ryan is publisher and editor of The Highland County Press.[[In-content Ad]]