Argus Woes, Part 3
I have a good friend who has an even bigger mouth than me. He’ll babble his opinions anywhere without any worry of offending anybody. I don’t always agree with him, but I have to admire that he just doesn’t give a fuck.
Yet there’s one publication he will not chat with. To be fair, he does write letters to the editor. Lots of letters, actually, which I’m sure doesn’t please another person in town with a similar name. But he refuses to chat with Argus Leader reporters.
Too bad I don’t think like he does, but I’m too big of a media whore. In fact, I’ve said more than once that I’m surprised I don’t get called more often whenever the paper has upcoming stories involving music and other topics.
A few days ago, my phone rang shortly after I arrived home from work. Seeing that it was from the Argus, I assumed it was somebody trying to sell me a subscription. A half hour later, it rang again. I thought about picking it up, but I really didn’t feel like dealing with people at that very moment.
No message was left, so I forgot all about it. The next morning, however, I did answer. A reporter was on the line, and he wanted to hear my thoughts I had about the former management team of the Washington Pavilion.
While I was caught a bit off-guard, this is a topic I can ramble about at any given moment. For the next fifteen minutes or so, I did just that. Besides my usual complaints, though, I did throw in a compliment or two.
This past Saturday, the top story of the day was about new hires and job opportunities at the facility. I wasn’t mentioned at all, until this last paragraph:
I couldn’t have been more pissed. First off, where’s my plug? How about identifying me as either “former Tempest Music Editor” or “Prime Magazine Music Columnist”? That’s a minor bitch, though.
My main beef is that this paragraph does not represent at all what I said to the reporter. Ok, Lucinda Williams was included in an anecdote of an act that the Pavilion had reportedly said no to a few years ago. But Wilco was part of a compliment, along with Elvis Costello, of the types of shows that were my personal highlights of the past few years. Arcade Fire was a band I noted (along with the Bright Eyes show that should have been held there) that would fit perfectly in the Great Hall.
I also never mentioned the word “bar”. I had spent some time talking about how cool it was that all-ages rock and hip-hop shows had been held in the building’s smaller rooms, and that the building should be more open, and less costly, to fledgling promoters attempting to give social opportunities for high school and college-age people. Attempts should have been made to get around the ban on insurance coverage on hip-hop shows.
Ok, I didn’t come off looking like a complete ass, except for the listing of a band that had played in the building as something they had passed on. But I detest seeing my name representing opinions that aren’t mine. I don’t just want “artists on the rise”; I desire and demand that the Pavilion a). is more helpful and open for promoters and b). would actually take a chance now and then. If they’re happy booking nothing but the bland sounds of Lori Line and Jim Brickman, then fine for them. Just quit sending me donation requests.
As for Argus reporters, just toss my phone number unless you plan to accurately quote me. Oh hell, who am I kidding? Like I’ll turn down an opportunity to rant and rave.
Yet there’s one publication he will not chat with. To be fair, he does write letters to the editor. Lots of letters, actually, which I’m sure doesn’t please another person in town with a similar name. But he refuses to chat with Argus Leader reporters.
Too bad I don’t think like he does, but I’m too big of a media whore. In fact, I’ve said more than once that I’m surprised I don’t get called more often whenever the paper has upcoming stories involving music and other topics.
A few days ago, my phone rang shortly after I arrived home from work. Seeing that it was from the Argus, I assumed it was somebody trying to sell me a subscription. A half hour later, it rang again. I thought about picking it up, but I really didn’t feel like dealing with people at that very moment.
No message was left, so I forgot all about it. The next morning, however, I did answer. A reporter was on the line, and he wanted to hear my thoughts I had about the former management team of the Washington Pavilion.
While I was caught a bit off-guard, this is a topic I can ramble about at any given moment. For the next fifteen minutes or so, I did just that. Besides my usual complaints, though, I did throw in a compliment or two.
This past Saturday, the top story of the day was about new hires and job opportunities at the facility. I wasn’t mentioned at all, until this last paragraph:
Scott Hudson, too, would like to see more musicians at the Pavilion. He said past management has passed on or failed to draw artists on the rise, such as Lucinda Williams, Wilco and the Arcade Fire. More local acts should be playing the facility's smaller rooms instead of playing bars, he said.
I couldn’t have been more pissed. First off, where’s my plug? How about identifying me as either “former Tempest Music Editor” or “Prime Magazine Music Columnist”? That’s a minor bitch, though.
My main beef is that this paragraph does not represent at all what I said to the reporter. Ok, Lucinda Williams was included in an anecdote of an act that the Pavilion had reportedly said no to a few years ago. But Wilco was part of a compliment, along with Elvis Costello, of the types of shows that were my personal highlights of the past few years. Arcade Fire was a band I noted (along with the Bright Eyes show that should have been held there) that would fit perfectly in the Great Hall.
I also never mentioned the word “bar”. I had spent some time talking about how cool it was that all-ages rock and hip-hop shows had been held in the building’s smaller rooms, and that the building should be more open, and less costly, to fledgling promoters attempting to give social opportunities for high school and college-age people. Attempts should have been made to get around the ban on insurance coverage on hip-hop shows.
Ok, I didn’t come off looking like a complete ass, except for the listing of a band that had played in the building as something they had passed on. But I detest seeing my name representing opinions that aren’t mine. I don’t just want “artists on the rise”; I desire and demand that the Pavilion a). is more helpful and open for promoters and b). would actually take a chance now and then. If they’re happy booking nothing but the bland sounds of Lori Line and Jim Brickman, then fine for them. Just quit sending me donation requests.
As for Argus reporters, just toss my phone number unless you plan to accurately quote me. Oh hell, who am I kidding? Like I’ll turn down an opportunity to rant and rave.
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