Reporting Live

Major news syndicates of the free world,  be afraid.  In fact, I’d recommend a good tremble or two.  You might even want to toss in a little resigned flinging of the computerized mouse. 

Two very young, highly imaginative, notably extemporaneous females just handed me their very first homespun newspaper.

You’ll never guess what’s going down in our corner of the globe, so I’ll leave it to this formidable, unassuming, giggling duo (a.k.a. my daughters) to fill you in.  A search engine to unearth the validity of their sources has thus far yielded the following:  “Who still uses spell check?” “Totally off-the-top-of-my-head” and “It sounds cute, doesn’t it?” Bearing that in mind, here it is, line upon spontaneously punctuated line, followed by a few brief editorial observations, 

I give you, “Journal News” for October 19, 2013, beginning with headline news:

“Old mayor, Bob J. Smith, died last week of a heart attack.  Yesterday new mayor, John B. Adams, was elected mayor.  He plans on building a new theater for the adults and teens, a park for the children, and a new bowling alley for everyone to enjoy.  Bob J. Smith’s funeral will be held on November 13th at Reformed Presbyterian church.”

Just a stab here, but I think there’s a lot more going on here than what we’re seeing in actual print, don’t you?  Bob’s successor, John, sure wasted no time taking office, did he?  And with no record of any public vote, I’m seriously starting to question whether ole’ Bob died of natural causes.  Especially when you factor in Mr. Adam’s robust building plans that appear to have been in the making for quite some time.  At least, Mr. Smith is going to be properly mourned by his fellow Presbyterians. At this juncture, I would heartily endorse a thorough background check, including John’s denominational bent.

Moving on to Arts and Entertainment, we read,

“Artstein is a new building on 12th Avenue.  Many kids have joined the art group.  This is what they have to say.  “I’ve always liked doing arts and crafts,” said Kat Rock.  “I love creating new things.”  “I love art.”  Says Melody Woodstock.  “I like painting best.” Says Emma Rock.  As you can see kids love this art program.  You can sign up your kid, too.  Just dial 111-222.  Hope you like it. “

With testimonials like that, I was ready to sign up in a heartbeat, but so far all I”ve contacted is a  recording telling me that I’ve dialed an incorrect number.  Hmmmm…….

Under the “Letter to the Editor” we read:

Donations!  Donations!

“Missionary, Miss Pihl, visited Lisbon, New York just yesterday! She worked in Kampala.  A lot of the money we send to them buys wheat.  Which is then made into alcohol, by the Kampala’s people.  But something they can’t turn into alcohol is clothes.  They really do need clothes over there.  They are actually the most, poor people in Africa.  Donation boxes should be set up everywhere.  I think that would make the Kampala’s people very happy.”

Letter to the editor?  I have no answer for that one.  This article’s title certainly helps feed that idea that houses of worship are after your wallet and its contents.  I’m glad we’re actually aware of the continent in question by the end of the article.  It’s also a great relief to know that alcohol doesn’t convert successfully into the everyday tunic.

Moving right along to Sports, we read this:

“Last Monday a 5-K and a fun run took place on county route 10.  The winner of the fun run is Carmen Miller.  The winner of the walking 5-K is a close call between Maria Rockhill and Mrs. Wrecker, but the true winner is Maria Rockhill.  For the running 5-K, there is a tie between Eric Miller, Presten Woodstock, and his brother Nathen Woodstock.  No one know exactly who won, so we’ll call it a tie.  The next 5-K will be on October 22, along with a fun run.  Run Fast!”

 The laurels for the fun run go to a much-loved cousin. Mrs. Wrecker?  This poor woman has walked many a literal mile with me, actually spells her name minus the beginning “W”, and is much more inclined to building relationships than destroying them, as her misspelled name might suggest.  The three-way tie with the 5K runners deserves a bit of an explanation.  The “Eric” would be a much-loved, running-avid uncle.  “Presten” and “Nathan” are loved on a different level as my daughter’s imaginary spouses.  The latter two apparently attractive, affable and accommodating males were also, I was informed, happy to oblige their brides for a double wedding. They  are obviously also quite light on their feet.  I think that might be the reason why my daughters couldn’t quite garner their courage to emerge with one clear winner.  Spouse? Well, duh. Uncle?  Of course!  Brother-in-law?  Yeah, gotta keep him happy too. I think we’ll just blame this one on lazy race officials and sloppy timekeeping.

Sports article numero dos:

“Last Friday, October 11, 2013 the two soccer teams The Fierce Foxes and the Purple Panthers take on a very close soccer game.  They almost had the split tie but in the end The Fierce Foxes scored one close point within 5 seconds! The winning goal was scored by Alexis Woodstock while her cousin Ramona Woodstock dribbled close by to protect the ball.  Those two girls were the youngest but quite smartest players on their team.  Because of that one goal that happened 95ft away from the goal they lead their team to victory this time but what will happen next time?

Wow, now that’s a real show stopper game, eh? Alexis and Ramona, you understand, are the prodigious offspring of my daughters’ fictitious marital unions.  A 95 foot kick into the goal is newsworthy stuff, indeed.  It’s good to see by her closing query that these cousins won’t be content to rest on their athletic laurels, lest this miraculous goal-making should not repeat itself.

Oh, and time would fail me to tell of the “Doggy Farm” comic strip, a surreal conversation between sheep and dog.  Rest assured, it’s baaaaad.

So, while it’s obvious major news syndicates aren’t actually going to be experiencing any major subscription competition or upstaging anytime soon, I have to give my daughters credit for creativity .  Side of splashy spunk.  Dabbed with a decided dash of debonair.

Me?  I’ve never had such fun reading between the lines.

Soli Deo Gloria.