If You Love Your Country, Pay For Content

As newspapers struggle to find a financial model to replace display and classified ads, they've had to cut editorial staffs to the bone. Some stories aren't getting covered as well as before or covered at all. Believing the prevailing digital ethos, readers think they're entitled to get the news for free, as though good reporting sprang immaculately from Google's servers or gifted journalists would get themselves trained and then risk their lives in Kabul strictly as volunteers. It's also the fault of publishers failing to anticipate the change and of the old model itself, where revenue from department store ads was used to underwrite coverage of city hall, the Supreme Court, and power shifts in Beijing.

Someday internet advertising may generate the same revenue that print did. Until then, the responsible reading citizen must learn to pay for the production of professional editorial content the same way she pays for dry cleaning, groceries, and legal advice. Without trained reporters and editors, we're guaranteed to suffer more abuses of power. Cable TV zealots and the Starbucks-based hackosphere will fill the vacuum left by facts with twice their weight in opinions. Our media will be deaf, blind, and insufferably loud.

One recent example of the indispensability of old-fashioned journalism. At 9 a.m. this morning in New York City, someone opened fire. I heard about it on the radio and checked Huffington Post, but there were few details. So I went to the New York Times on my iPhone (for which I gladly pay a monthly fee) and found this article, posted within four hours of the event. Written with precision and terse eloquence, it's a masterpiece of team reporting, an everyday example of the fine but dying art of good newspapering, painstaking and often dangerous work that no one will or should have to do for free:

[The suspect] lived on the third floor of a six-story walk-up on East 82nd Street for about 18 months, said Guillermo Suarez, 72, the super of the building.

Every morning he had the same routine. He would leave the apartment between 7:30 and 8 a.m., say good morning and head to the McDonald’s on Third Avenue and 84th Street.

After about 20 minutes, he would come back carrying a McDonald’s bag. He would nearly always wear the same thing — a tannish brown suit, sometimes with a tie. Then he would generally stay in the apartment the rest of the day.

He did the same thing on Friday morning, but this time he did not come back.

If you love your country, and if you really want to know what's going on in the world, pay for content.

Hatless But Hardly Hitless

Babe Ruth with his wife, Clare, and Kate Smith (lower left) at the first game of the 1936 World Series at the Polo Grounds in New York City. From a selection of photos recently opened by the city's Department of Records. Hat tip to BuzzFeed for these ten.

Infradisgusture

Why do New York and LA have such crummy airports?

Opportunistic Advertising

What happens on the streets of New York City when Yushi leave blank space

Midtown Sky

At center, the spire of St. Patrick's Cathedral and the archbishop's residence; at right, 30 Rockefeller Center.

You Think?

The people at our Marriott hotel in Manhattan venture the theologically sound proposition that the weather is "subject to change without notice."

Tragic, Tough Tibet

During the last year, to protest Chinese rule at least 16 people, including monks and nuns, have immolated themselves in Tibet and ethnically Tibetan regions of neighboring Sichuan province. Fifty demonstrators across the street from the UN late this afternoon waved victims' photos and Tibetan flags and shouted angry denunciations of the Chinese communist government: "No justice, no peace!" "China kills!"

While Beijing insists that Tibet has always been part of China, Tibetans say the region was autonomous for much of its history. China reasserted control after the 1949 revolution and says it won't ever let go. It squeezes until it hurts. Along with hundreds of millions of Chinese, Tibet's people experienced the worst of communism's privations. Hundreds of thousands died during Mao Zedong's Great Leap Forward. Communist forces destroyed thousands of monasteries. The Dalai Lama, Tibet's spiritual and political leader, was driven into exile in 1959. Official state atheism notwithstanding, Beijing will prayerfully discern the name of his successor to ensure that he'll toe the line on Tibet's permanent status as part of China. The central government brutally suppresses all manifestations of separatism. Its forces have killed several Tibetans in crackdowns over the last week.

Although China's treatment of Tibet is scandalous, there's little if anything the U.S. can or will do. It does regularly register its concerns to China. Barack Obama even invited Beijing's ire last July by meeting with the Dalai Lama. But it's hard to imagine this or any administration risking a significant worsening of relations with Beijing for little Tibet's sake. China denounces all alleged inferences in its internal affairs. Being a dominant player in global and American markets buys a lot of deference. In Times Square, the bright red panel crowning this video tower, a potent symbol of capitalism, has been purchased by China's propaganda arm, the Xinhua News Agency, an ironic counterpoint to the demonstrators a few long blocks away, the types Xinhua calls bandits.

When two great peoples have interests in common, a numerically small people like the Tibetans will lose out. But China should understand that they'll probably never lose heart.

Vacancy At The Center Of The World

Would you believe the storefront on the northeast corner of Broadway and 42nd St. (at right, above) is available? Great spot for a church, actually.

Midtown Sky

From the UN to the Chrysler building, the best view you are likely to get from a Courtyard by Marriott

An Afternoon In America

The 9/11 Memorial in lower Manhattan is in the middle of a construction site. You need reservations to visit; details here. Beyond the fences and security, it's spacious and quiet. Hallowed ground. People walk slowly and speak quietly. "It doesn't feel like New York," said my stepdaughter, Meaghan, who lives here. Friendly, otherwise inconspicuous volunteers step forward to offer tissues to those who are moved to tears or to assist with photography.

Sunken fountains ringed with the names of the fallen mark the footprints of the World Trade Center towers. The spaces will be encircled by the 1,776-foot Freedom Tower and several other skyscrapers, each designed differently and spaced at odd intervals, like American irregulars standing guard. Their grandeur and diversity (and, one hopes, low occupancy rates) will affront the murderers.

One of their victims, Lisa Frost, an alumna of St. John's Episcopal School, had been graduated from Boston University in the spring of 2001. She was aboard United flight 175, which the terrorists flew into the south tower. Her name is on panel S-3. My wife Kathy found the name of William Wik, who married her high school friend Kathy Norton. William escaped from the south tower but died after reentering to help others get out. His name is on S-60.

I don't know if this little girl and her family were visiting the name of a family member or friend. The carved names invite touch. Sometimes, depending on how the wind blows around the plaza, the marble is dampened by mist from the thundering fountains.

The small temporary visitor center (a Sept. 11 museum will open later, in a building that looks like one of the towers knocked on its side) displays only two relatively small photos of the towers on fire. The first has the U.S. flag in the foreground. The spare text says the attacks were the work of the "radical Islamist terrorist network al-Qaeda."

Wednesday was a cold, breezy day, and the flag over the memorial snapped smartly. The largest single contributor to the 9/11 Memorial is the Starr Foundation, controlled by Hank Greenberg, the former chairman and CEO of American International Group and the largest beneficiary of the former Nixon Center.

The spire of St. Paul's Chapel, where volunteers and clergy assisted rescue and recovery workers after the attacks, and the Freedom Tower, which looks like it's about two-thirds finished. St. Paul's is an institution of Trinity Episcopal Church, nearby at Wall St. and Broadway.

Near the memorial a passerby was having a spirited and friendly conversation with an Occupy Wall St. protestor. Someone had sent pizza for the demonstrators. Vigorous debate, openness of heart and mind, generosity of spirit. How American.

Start Spreading The News

The view at dawn Wednesday morning from our hotel in midtown, looking south along 3rd Ave. We arrived on the redeye from LAX -- a homecoming for Bronx-born Kathy and for me, too, since we both worked in New York for former President Nixon for many years. Both my daughters were born in Manhattan.

Kathy's superior instincts told her that we'd find a diner on 2nd Ave. We bought the papers -- actual printed newspapers, the Times, the Daily News -- and had eggs and coffee and juice. Then Kathy went to St. Patrick's Cathedral and I went looking for a Village Voice, which, I was distressed to find, is now just a flimsy giveaway like its sister paper OC Weekly and no longer the two-section authoritative cultural and political source book that I left behind in 1990. It still carries Michael Musto's column, though. This week he interviewed Joan and Melissa Rivers. He asked Joan about Golden Globe fashions. She said, "Meryl Streep is the best actress alive, but she looked like was wearing the Temple Grandin collection. Meryl, call me."

Trump Brand Just Devalued By 50%

If Donald Trump really runs for president, he'll experience a different kind of journalism than he's used to as a daily reader of New York City's tabloids. Here's an example, which includes an answer from a recent deposition in which he admits, well, lying (which is just what he's been accusing the president of doing):

Asked in the deposition about his statements in 2007 that his net worth was $8 billion, Trump conceded: "I don't know. I don't think so. Well, maybe I'm adding 4 or 5 billion dollars worth, 3 billion, for the value of a brand. But I don't know."

Hello, Columbus

St. John's member Tom Tierney sent this great shot of Columbus Circle in New York City. I believe he snapped it from a building that Donald Trump built after I left the East coast in 1990.

And Obama Now Agrees

Of three GOP candidates seeking the Sept. 14 nomination to vie for Democratic Rep. Tim Bishop's Long Island seat, Nixon grandson Christopher Cox is the least militant on the mosque and cultural center in lower Manhattan:

Mr. Cox said voters are rightly concerned and questioning why the mosque can't just be built somewhere else.

Can You Hear Them Now?

The Brill Building, on Broadway near Times Square, was headquarters for legendary songwriters such as Bacharach and David, Leiber and Stoller ("Yakety Yak"), Ellie Greenwich ("River Deep Mountain High," with Phil Specter), and Doc Pomus ("Save The Last Dance For Me," with Mort Shuman). More about the Brill Building sound here. Music bud Gary Baker (above) and I stopped by on Sunday, at the end of our musical pilgrimage. All we could hear outside the historic doorway (though artists were usually instructed to use the side entrance) was the sound of Manhattan traffic -- but hey, that's what inspired George Gershwin's "Rhapsody in Blue."

Gary and I talked politics during the 17 minutes we weren't talking about music, family, and faith. When I shared that I didn't much care who gave money to politicians or in what amounts so long as voters are fully informed about it and pay close attention, he recommended OpenSecrets.org. Drop by and see who calls the tune for your local officials.

Mix 'Em, Match 'Em

Grand Central Station, New York City, 6:35 p.m.

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

The Coming Yankee Crackup?

As the Angels head to the Bronx for (we trust) two straight wins en route to the World Series, we know that, at least so far in this playoff series, it probably hasn't been our mighty bats that have caused cracks in the pedestrian walkways of the brand new $1.5 billion Yankee Stadium. Instead, reports the New York Times, it's an only-in-New-York type problem:

The ramps were built by a company accused of having links to the mob, and the concrete mix was designed and tested by a company under indictment on charges that it failed to perform some tests and falsified the results of others.

Dexterous

At Lord & Taylor on Fifth Ave., preparing to promote the upcoming season premiere of the Showtime series about a serial killer with a conscience

Just TRY Being Taller Than Me

Under construction near the Empire State Building

Divine

For Episcopalians visiting New York City, all roads, streets, and avenues lead to the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, the world’s largest Gothic cathedral and the seat of the Bishop of New York, the Rt. Rev. Mark S. Sisk. It reopened last November after a devastating fire in December 2001. I first saw it nearly 30 year ago and remember it looking gloomy and in desperate need of a good sandblasting. Kathy said the same thing yesterday when we visited St. Patrick’s. Now the massive pillars in the St. John’s nave are clean and bathed in pale blue light; the eye follows them to the distant arched ceiling and beyond. I remember pews, but they’re gone now. Bas-reliefs in the floor depicting the signal places of Jesus’s life and ministry – Bethlehem, Nazareth, Cana, Bethany -- guide the visitor toward the altar, associating this grandest of structures with the far more modest-seeming but epochal places we St. John (Chrysostom) pilgrims visited during our pilgrimage in August.

“It’s Episcopal?” one stunned visitor asked a docent. “It’s not Catholic?” Only 2.5 million of us, but the most stunning cathedrals in New York and Washington. So there. This one’s famously unfinished, especially the spires that front Amsterdam Ave., which stonemasons are building the Middle Aged-fashioned way, brick by brick. Plus the gift shop, in which the fire started, has not reopened, and the volunteer in the narthex wasn’t sure it ever would. So where does a guy get a Book of Common Prayer in this town?

During our visit, someone was tuning the really high notes on the organ, which added to the ethereal impression of a building whose highest reaches have been newly thrown open to upwardly cast eyes. Outside, in the children’s garden between the cathedral and diocesan offices, there was…well, the kind of bird you don’t normally see in Manhattan. From the look on his face, I don’t think he recognized me, either.

Brian St. John (that name again), of Orange County, California, tells me it's a peacock -- or, as Flannery O'Connor called them, peahens. But I thought they had colored feathers? Oops: Over on Facebook (where there is considerably more attention being paid to this question) Nancy Larkin confirms it's a white peacock. Thanks, friends!