Monkey Business

August 24, 2012

I hesitate to assert that my wife and I are hikers, but we certainly are avid walkers.  Walking is a routine of our daily life; and it’s a highlight when we travel.  Walking is the means by which we absorb the sights, sounds and smells of each locale, while faster modes of tourism pass us by.

One of my wife’s delights as we travel is to discover monkeys in the wild; so sometimes monkey sighting has been the goal of walks, for example, in Costa Rica and Panama.  This has made us familiar with howler monkeys; and I’m sorry to say, it’s caused me to see parallels between howler monkeys and modern media.

The growls of the howler monkeys send messages through the treetops.  One howler begins, and others forward the message for miles.  I’ve been told by locals (I’m no expert) that the monkey culture doesn’t reward creativity and that there’s an expectation that the message at the end of the line is the same as it began.

Sort of like forwarding an email, photo or video; or sharing a posting on Facebook.  Or like the wire services’ distribution of news through traditional media.  It’s rare that anyone vets the information; and retractions or corrections are even rarer.

I read in Barbara Kingsolver’s novel The Lacuna that the most important thing about a story, and about a person, is what you don’t know, which gets to the heart of the weakness of much of modern media.  Yes, because of the volume of information in today’s 24/7/365 “news” cycle with thousands of channels and the universal access to reporting news through social media, we’re likely to get most of the facts, eventually; but the salient and true facts are likely to be lost in the rush and the clutter.

Set at a time before television, Kingsolver’s protagonist in The Lacuna writes in 1946:  “The newsmen leap on anything . . . The radio is the root of the evil, their rule is:  No silence, ever.  When anything happens, the commentator has to speak without a moment’s pause for gathering wisdom.  Falsehood and inanity are preferable to silence.  You can’t imagine the effect of this.  The talkers are rising above the thinkers.”

However real that observation would have been then, it’s clear today that cable television, talk radio and the Internet have raised the talking-without-thinking effect to heights that would have been unimaginable in the 1940s.

Wrong End of the Microscope

October 14, 2016

Those who love and lead high school football in Michigan may be looking through the wrong end of the microscope.

Attention to large schools, varsity programs and the postseason is a waste of time if we fail to closely examine smaller schools, lower level programs and the start of the season.

Are we adequately nurturing our roots and promoting the future of the game? Do high school coaches spend more time with civic and parent groups describing the benefits and defending the safety record of school-sponsored football than they do airing their grievances against other coaches in the media?

Do we understand how increasing the number and enrollment ranges of 8-player football programs affects our smallest schools, whether they conduct 11- or 8-player programs? Do we see where and how the same proposal can serve one school very well but another school terribly?

Do we understand what's happening in junior high/middle school programs? Do we play enough games to be attractive to kids and their parents, and do the practice policies and playing rules of this level promote an extra degree of participant health and safety?

Do we understand how starting practice so much earlier than academic classes in the fall may turn off kids and parents, especially at lower levels of play; and are we keeping up with rapidly changing calendar changes of member schools?

Ultimately, the future health of varsity high school football programs depends on the outcome of these kinds of questions, answers and efforts ... and has little to do with the size and system of the postseason playoffs. And positive efforts will be negatively affected by coaches airing dirty laundry in public.