polka dot suitcase

You know how, when you’re sensitive about something, you hear or see it all over the place? It’s like being aware you’ve got a zit on the end of your nose and you’re really self-conscious about it. So, I’m a writer. And I gotta say, it gets a little old hearing about how The Media is so horrible. I never considered myself a member of the media. I was just a writer. But then a couple years ago, a potential source (note: potential) really laid into me over an inquiry I made, trying to gather info for an article. He ranted about how The Media was evil, and would twist his words and then we’d all go and drink coffee and laugh at his expense.

And I thought…I’m the media?

Then, while searching for sources for a homeschooling article that same year, a homeschooling group leader said she wouldn’t talk to me for the article because The Media always portrayed homeschoolers as weirdos and The Media just didn’t know diddly about homeschooling. I politely (promise! I was polite!) said, “Okay, thanks for your time. By the way…my family has homeschooled for three years now.” I guess I wanted her to know that The Media are flesh-and-blood people with real lives, too.

I was reading a fabulous blog by a soldier, but pulled up short when he began a rant about The Media…how we just go for the headline and whatever will look good, ignoring the truth. Sigh. It’s called ethics. Yes, there are sensational journalists who may ditch ethics, just like there are unethical people in every profession.

My favorite description of The Media is “the liberalists in the media.” So, my fellow pen-pushers and I are all soul-less, drooling, left-wing fanatics? Well, that’s only during the week. On weekends, we hop in our inflatable rafts and chase whalers. Holidays, we like to strap ourselves to trees in front of bulldozers. Gee, generalize much, people?

Here’s a newsflash to media haters: We’re peeps, too. You know, the kind with feelings and ethics, just like you. If you tickle us, do we not laugh (and then write about it)? When you prick our printers, do they not drip ink? (Sorry, Shakespeare.)

Anyhoo. Gotta go. I’ve got a story due called, “Homeschooled Soldier Eats Baby in Iraq.”