This show is going to kill me yet. How many times have I stood in the crowd during the newsroom-cutbacks speech? Many. The only difference was, our cutbacks were stupider. My scrappy little daily had no bureaus in Johannesburg to close, so our publisher gathered us in the newsroom to announce we were cutting our own circulation. Yes, cutting our own circulation — the “unprofitable routes” at the outer edges of our footprint were being cut, because it cost more to deliver way out there than some bean-counter figured it paid back. If that isn’t the very definition of nose amputation for facial spiting, I’d like to know what is.
I like to say that’s why I knew we were well and truly FUBAR’d, but truth to tell, that was only one in a series. But that’s when I personally threw up my hands.
And so we’re back to the lying game. I liked that we’re seeing a bit of how those what’s-the-harm-if-it-gets-me-outta-Baltimore Templeton lies hurt. Twigg’s not the only one with game around here, but Templeton’s killer quote, which he knows he won’t be called on as long as Nerese Campbell is pissed at Gus Haynes (a long time), is still malignant — it could end up bringing down Cedric Daniels, too.
All the buzz this week is about Omar, in…I’m going to say Puerto Rico, but I thought there was nothing more poignant, this week, than the still-too-young-to-drive Dukie and Michael having to hire a gypsy cab to take them to Six Flags? The day offered a rare chance to be a kid again, before the responsibilities of the world came crashing down. I read a David Simon interview years ago where he said one lesson of Season One was: Middle management sucks. Guess it still does.
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