The Passage of Time

The passing of Peter Jennings. Being the news addict that I am (and living without cable), I grew up watching Peter Jennings. He was, as they say, suave and sophisticated – I mean, come on – it was “World News Tonight with Peter Jennings.” Not just Nightly News, but World News (no offense to Tom Brokaw, but I seriously watched more Jennings than Brokaw). As I grew older, I realized he wasn’t infallible (he could be a little pedantic, and that Canadian accent made you wonder – is it alien or charming?) – the NY Times’ Jacques Steinberg captured it right:

As an anchor, Mr. Jennings presented himself as a worldly alternative to Mr. Brokaw’s plain-spoken Midwestern manner and Mr. Rather’s folksy, if at times offbeat, Southern charm. He neither spoke like many of his viewers (“about” came out of his mouth as A-BOOT, a remnant of his Canadian roots) nor looked like them, with a matinee-idol face and crisply tailored wardrobe that were frequently likened in print to those of James Bond.

Though his bearing could be stiff on the air (and his syntax sometimes criticized as being so simplistic as to border on patronizing), Mr. Jennings was immensely popular with his audience.

During a trip last fall through Kansas, Pennsylvania and Ohio in the weeks before the presidential election, he traveled at times aboard a coach customized by the news division to trumpet its campaign coverage and frequently received a rock star’s welcome when he decamped.

For example, in the parking lot of a deli just outside of Pittsburgh, where he had come to interview a long-shot candidate for Congress whose threadbare headquarters was upstairs, Mr. Jennings found himself on the receiving end of several hugs from loyal viewers.

“He’s so handsome,” one of those viewers, Vilma Berryman, 66, the deli owner, observed immediately after meeting him. “He’s taller than I thought. He speaks so softly.”

“I feel like I know him,” she added. “He’s just so easy.”

Like all of the Big 3, Mr. Jennings was not without his detractors. Some critics contended he was too soft on the air when describing the Palestinian cause or the regime of the Cuban leader Fidel Castro – charges he disputed. Similarly, a July 2004 article in the National Review portrayed him as a thinly veiled opponent of the American war in Iraq.

The article quoted Mr. Jennings as saying: “That is simply not the way I think of this role. This role is designed to question the behavior of government officials on behalf of the public.”

Mr. Jennings was conscious of having been imbued, during his Canadian boyhood, with a skepticism about American behavior; at least partly as a result, he often delighted in presenting the opinions of those in the minority, whatever the situation.

And yet he simultaneously carried on an elaborate love affair with America, one that reached its apex in the summer of 2003, when he announced that he had become an American citizen, scoring, he said proudly, 100 percent on his citizenship test.

In a toast around that time that he gave at the new National Constitution Center in Philadelphia, he described his adopted home as “this brash and noble container of dreams, this muse to artists and inventors and entrepreneurs, this beacon of optimism, this dynamo of energy, this trumpet blare of liberty.”

Mr. Jennings’s personal life was at times grist for the gossip pages, including his three divorces. His third wife, the author Kati Marton, whom he married in 1979 and divorced in 1993, is the mother of his two children, who survive him. They are a daughter, Elizabeth, and son, Christopher, both of New York City. He is also survived by his fourth wife, Kayce Freed, a former ABC television producer whom he married in December 1997, and a sister, Sarah Jennings of Ottawa, Canada. Having prided himself on rarely taking a sick day in nearly 40 years – and being dismissive, at times, of those well-paid colleagues who did – Mr. Jennings had missed the broadcast and the newsroom terribly in recent months.

When he got to be in the gossip pages and faced criticism, I realized that Jennings was human. In an era where the Anchorman isn’t what it used to be, maybe that’s okay. But, in times of trouble, there was Jennings being reassuring while realistic. It didn’t hurt that he was easy on the eyes and entirely credible. NY Times’ Alessandra Stanley notes:

He was not warm or cozily familiar. He was cool and even a little supercilious. If you invited Peter Jennings into your living room, he would be likely to raise an eyebrow at the stains on the coffee table. He was not America’s best friend or kindly uncle. But in an era of chatty newscasters, jousting analysts and hyperactive commentators, he was a rare voice of civility. [….]

What Mr. Jennings had that will be harder to replace was a worldliness that was rooted in his personality and also in his rich background of experience in the field.

Mr. Jennings, who died on Sunday, worked hard his entire life to overcome a flighty beginning: he never attended college, and got his start on Canadian television with the help of his father, a senior executive at the Canadian Broadcasting Company. Mr. Jennings became famous as the host of a dance show for teenagers and was only 26 when ABC News recruited him to be an anchor, more on the basis of his good looks and smooth delivery than anything else. He made up for it later, working as a correspondent in Vietnam, Beirut and Europe. His colleagues teased him about his dashing trench coats, but nobody looked better in Burberry or in black tie. [….]

Brian Williams on NBC is as natty, self-possessed and buttoned-down as Mr. Brokaw and Mr. Jennings combined. Charles Gibson, who stepped in most often to replace Mr. Jennings when he began cancer treatment, proved a comfortingly familiar, competent face. For now at least, Bob Schieffer at CBS has introduced a no-nonsense note of the elder statesman after the nightly roller-coaster ride that was Dan Rather.

All of them remain in the classic anchor mold, but not one of them has the hauteur and dignity that Mr. Jennings brought to the news. Network newscasts have lost much of their audience and authority, but throughout all the setbacks, erosions and even his own fatal illness, he never lost his uncommon touch.

Ironically, another network’s commentator did it nicely – MSNBC’s commentator Michael Ventre says:

The last trustworthy American was born a Canadian.

Peter Jennings became an American citizen in 2003. But before that, he was an honorary American, one of the small handful of people we went to for the truth. And he came through. He never lied to us. He always gave it to us straight. [….]

Jennings made fewer headlines than his broadcast brethren. He did in network news what Spencer Tracy once advised a fellow actor to do: “Find your mark, look into the camera and tell the truth.”

Now media consultants will panic to replace him, like they’ve done in the aftermath of the Rather exit. They’ll look for new ways to present the news.[….]

Spin will be the order of the day. Never mind that folks have less faith in the news media now than ever. The idea is to jazz up the broadcast while softening the edges, not break stories. Network suits are able to do this now because the last trustworthy man in America is no longer with us.

He was our Cronkite, even if people didn’t realize it, or took him for granted. He will be missed, and network news will never be the same.

It’s summer doldrums

So global warming is the real deal….Scorching hot all around the world.

This past few days in Ipoh, even the locals are complaining that it’s been really unbearable. And I thought it was just me. Lamenting about the lack of I-infrastructure here, making it difficult to get online without finding a nearby I-cafe. There are some nice ones. Currently borrowing my cousin’s Streamyx system. Satisfactory.

Some days I just need to vent and wonder why. I”m tired, hot, and over-stuffed (from the non-stop eating), over-socialized and just need some time alone. I’ve got to get some paperwork out for the latest PMBOK 2004 rrevisions and then tomorrow, 6:30am ride to KL for two meetings, one with the US Embassy and then another in Petaling Jaya. Doing it without wheels will be challenging as M’sia has become a motorized country – like California. No wheels? SOL.

It’s been good to visit family here and getting to know M’sia again. As I get older, I realize that all the times that I spend with my family here are the happy times for me. Family is important. All the rest, I leave it in God’s hand.

=YC

Friday, Friday, Friday!

Entertainment Weekly – ok, so I still really don’t believe someone has the nerve out there to make “Smurfs – the movie” (rendering the little blue guys into CGI), but EW suggested a list of old 1980’s cartoons that ought to be made into movies: Thundercats, Gummi Bears (EW all but printing the theme song, which was kind of catchy and cute in the first place), the Snorks (good grief! I barely remember those Smurf ripoffs), and … Kidd Video! Ohmigod, now that’s just nuts – combining live action and cartoony goodness as the teen band zapped into the alternate universe to fight Master Blaster and singing ’80’s like pop tunes. EW really reached into the past…

I still don’t understand the purpose of the Dukes of Hazzard movie. I mean, it was a pointless tv show (apologies to Tom Wopat and John Schneider, but, the show was just to watch the car get into stupid stuff and listening to the Duke cousins yell “yee haw”). But, oh well. It’s that kind of summer, I guess.

Slate.com explains how Ranch dressing became the Number 1 dressing of the USA. Uh hmm.

Slate’s Dahlia Lithwick argues why the so-called “out-of-touch” judiciary ain’t worth bashing, and is in fact integral to American style democracy.

I’m a comic strip reader, or at least I haven’t given up reading the comics. But, reading the latest edition of “Funky Winkerbean” comic strip is depressing stuff. Wally, Funky’s cousin, is about to step on a landmine in Afghanistan. He may lose a limb or die. But, the comic strip artist is dragging out the suspense, tracking Wally’s each step for the past two days; today’s cliffhanger – Wally’s foot is just inches about the landmine that only the comic strip reader sees. I mean, really – Wally survived his original military service in Afghanistan; just married his high school sweetheart (who lost her arm in an accident he caused several years ago); and took his bride to Afghanistan for their honeymoon (during which he joined an NGO to help remove the landmines that instead threatens his life). Jeez. Wally don’t you have any sense?

Plus, is this plot really necessary? Can’t some comic strip creators just cut to the chase, rather than drag out the pain and suffering? Take a lesson from Doonesbury’s Garry Trudeau – B.D.’s injury itself may be short and sudden; it’s his recovery that is the drama and suspense. Then again, the Funky Winkerbean creator makes no sense – he had Funky bouncing back from his nasty divorce rather too easily. There are reasons why I ought to avoid some comics strips.

Looks like I’ll miss this year’s APA alumni picnic; have fun to those who are going…