I've been working so much this week that I haven't had time to write about the Ford funeral. (Or not time to write about it for my blog. I've definitely spent time writing about it, or trying to write about it.)

I know next to nothing about Ford. About every fifth time I think about him I think his name is Henry Ford. Until this evening I was pretty sure he served after LBJ. I think I know more about Betty Ford. She's the one with the clinics.

But why his death is exciting (excuse the morbidity) is the whole state funeral. I was in DC when the last president (Reagan) died for my study abroad (okay, study off-campus). And, to add to that, we were also reporters, so that meant we really dug into the whole thing (or had the chance to. I chose to run away from the parade when there was a false bomb scare at the Capitol. But I did see the plane salute from the roof).

What I really remember, other than hearing the stories of my classmates who actually did cool journalist things, is standing in line to view the coffin at the lying in state at the Capitol rotunda. I don't remember that much about seeing the actual coffin -- it's the standing in line I remember. It took six hours. But six hours in a I'll-remember-this-forever sense and not a this-sucks sense. Laura Keith and I got in line at 8:15ish p.m. after an eight-block walk from my dorm. At 2:30 a.m. we were in the rotunda. As we left the Capitol you could look down the mall and all you could see was lines of people (the line would zigzag the length of each block 12 times before moving onto the next), and you knew the ones way at the end might never get in because rumor had it they were closing at 6 a.m. And there were so many people. And they were America.

ha

I love it -- two big papers have been taking jabs at each other all year. The Pioneer Press was recently sold and more recently took significant cuts in its newsroom staff. Today, the Star Tribune announced it had been sold to a company that owns no other dailies. Their articles on the sale are very different -- and therefore very funny.

The Strib says:

The McClatchy Co. capped a year of dramatic changes in the newspaper industry Tuesday by announcing the surprise sale of the Star Tribune, its largest newspaper, to a private investment group.

The $530 million sale will place the future of Minnesota's dominant newspaper in the hands of Avista Capital Partners, a New York-based partnership of former investment bankers. It also continues a trend that accelerated this year in which large newspaper companies, such as McClatchy, Knight Ridder and Tribune, either winnowed their holdings or put themselves up for sale. Private owners have emerged to bid for many of the big-city papers that have come into play as a result.

McClatchy has played a major role in that change, agreeing to buy all of Knight Ridder Inc. last spring. Sacramento, Calif.-based McClatchy then sold a number of the Knight Ridder papers it considered to be less desirable, including the St. Paul Pioneer Press, which is now run by privately held MediaNews Group Inc. of Denver.

Those sales concluded by the fall, however, and the Star Tribune had not been viewed within the industry as a candidate for sale.

McClatchy paid $1.2 billion for the newspaper in 1998. Although its circulation and advertising results in the past several years had run into the same headwinds that other large dailies have encountered, the Star Tribune remains solidly profitable.

And the Pioneer Press says:

Newspaper publisher The McClatchy Co. said on Tuesday that it will sell its flagship newspaper Star Tribune to a private equity firm for $530 million, a sharp drop from the $1.2 billion it paid to acquire the newspaper just eight years ago.

McClatchy said it decided to sell the newspaper to Avista Capital Partners through a private bidding process "after a strategic reevaluation of its portfolio of holdings" following McClatchy's purchase of Knight Ridder for $4.5 billion earlier this year.

McClatchy faces a large tax bill from selling off 12 other newspapers earlier this year as part of its purchase of Knight Ridder. It said the tax benefit of selling the Star Tribune at a loss is worth $160 million, raising the total value of the deal to $690 million.

McClatchy chairman and CEO Gary Pruitt said in a written statement that the Star Tribune "is a profitable business that has generated significant returns for the company over the years. However, as we continue to analyze our business following the Knight Ridder acquisition, it became clear that selling the Star Tribune strengthens McClatchy's competitive position."

scratch 'n sniff Jesus

Some background info:

1.Once I spent a week in Chicago with a group learning about the the workings of a city. The trip isn't pertinent, but one of the trip leaders is. One morning he lined us up looking out the windows in a sixth-floor room. Then he prayed and asked us to join him, but with our eyes open. I like that best now -- praying with my eyes open, looking especially at textures, to sink in that this God I'm addressing was once of this dry, patterned flesh. If I close my eyes, it's easy to conjure up a film character instead.

2.A church in the suburbs did this "Christian haunted house" when I was in high school. It portrayed Hell, and you walked along from room to room and it was horrible. They'd have to move many people in the middle of a room out of the building because they couldn't handle it.

It would be neat to see a scratch 'n sniff Jesus ... well, display's not the word. Something where they're reading a story -- maybe even showing, maybe -- from one of the gospels, and instead of just seeing, it uses your other senses. (This is not for evangelical purposes according to this proposal.) For example, you're hearing (and maybe seeing) the story of the Last Supper and you stick your hand in something and feel/smell Jesus washing dirty feet. Then you hold the chalice and taste the bread and wine. Another spot, you might smell the alabaster jar's contents as it's broken. Feel nails in his hands (ick), mud on un-seeing eyes, feel the water Jesus walked on, a basket of loaves and fishes, hold the baby wrapped in swaddling clothes, smell the stable, feel the rough hay of the manger. Feel his face. The crown of thorns. See his hairy arms. Smell his B.O.

There we are. You're right, the other one was trippier.

The problem with working so late is that my brain is still wound up when I get home, so I have to stay up even later doing nothing to wind it down. So now ... I guess I'll read a book.

Clearly I did not edit this picture as well as I had planned to before I left work. Point: Trees are icy.

• I do not appreciate being prompted to sign in with "new blogger" or "old blogger," as if being an "old blogger" is worse than relying entirely on cassette tapes, during a week when there are so many dirty dishes on my counter.
• My new project at work is cleaning up our mug shot/head shot computer filing system. Right now there are at least four locations to find a mug: the folder "mugs" on Server A, "mugs in use" on Server A, "mugs to tone" on Server A, or folders (with nearly but not quite identical contents) by the same name on Server B within files X and J. Example of chaos: Yesterday I found that within "mugs" is "zzServerNewsMugsToSave" and within that is another folder and within that one is a folder called "column mugs" including hundreds of photos. Of course, the system includes multiple copies of the same mug, and multiple versions in black and white, and multiple shots of the same person. The system also includes all sorts of file names. I have no idea how you would ever find what you were looking for. Examples: "PS1830 Heitter, Jane 7/17" and "Jane" and "Jane col.mugs" would likely all exist and lead to the same thing that you'd never think of. And they would all feature Jane weighing 100 pounds more with a different hair color. We are finding that we have thousands of mug shots filed away, though again there are many multiples, many old shots -- some from people who graduated the year before me when they were high school seniors.
• The rest of December will be weeks from you-know-where with early holiday print deadlines. This week we will produce four papers in five days. Next week it will be three in four days. The week after will calm down with two in four days (normally three in five), but in between at least two key people are going on vacation. So, if you are on holiday break, you'd better darn well be appreciating it. ;)

A few weeks ago I went to a meeting for those interested in joining or leading a small group. I figured that would be a good way to meet people -- not that I am in desperate need of meeting people. I'm not lonely here and see plenty of people. If I did make a new friend, I'm not quite sure where I would find the time to hang out with them.

I didn't enjoy the meeting for a number of reasons -- 1) there wasn't really anyone else my age, and those older than me didn't really seem that interested in getting to know me; 2) I just did not have the passion for God or the church that I should have, or that others had; 3) I guess that's all the numbers there are.

The second reason aside -- well, really both reasons aside -- at least one speaker's point stuck out at me. She said that one rule of being in a small group is that you have to presume that you are welcome. It was a good point. And this is not something that I'm good at. I don't know why it is that in most situations -- barring those groups in which I know my role -- I subconsciously presume myself unwelcome.

Back to the second reason -- I really don't know what's wrong with me.

the thing about colds

The thing about colds is they always come in pairs -- or more. The news clerk got a cold a few days before me. The photographer got one the same day as me. The editor got one the day after me. The sports guy and reporter are steering clear of all of us.

The thing about colds is you're constantly worried about spreading germs -- to the point where you retrace all your steps with a can of Lysol. Or others use your things only while lining their hands with Kleenex and then using large dollops of hand sanitizer.

The thing about colds when you work in my field of ... work is that when you get sick, they say, "Well, that's too bad. When will page 4 be done?" Because likely there isn't anyone else to do your job, or if there is they're sick too.

The thing about colds is they're constantly mutating. Once you've found the remedy for one symptom, another just comes about.

I lost my voice! I never have before so right now it's really fun to try to talk to myself and see what comes out. I didn't even know it had happened before until I was trying to hum something. If someone tries to call me on the phone, though, this won't be quite as fun.

I most decidedly have a cold.

It's not so bad, though. It really is good timing, if a cold can ever come at a good time. We had a really tight paper to deal with yesterday and I had the A section half done by early afternoon -- I could have been out of there as early as 9:10 but dawdled awhile with webbing stories. And today there's nothing to do but be.

That being said, I'm sure you know how frustrating it is when your nose is stuffy and you blow it and blow it and it just gets stuffier. At least I never get sick for more than a couple of days -- it'll be all gone by Monday. And it's kind of fun to be sick once in a while, just to do nothing and take naps and eat chicken noodle soup (though I spilled 1/4 on the floor while I was taking it out of the microwave).

I went over to my parents' for a few hours in the afternoon to get my turn signal fixed. A batch of Christmas cookies had just come out of the oven! Later on I just laid on the couch there under a thick blanket and looked out the huge windows -- it's a great view, especially when you're laying down. Then you can't see the yard and the highway and the neighboring homes. It's just a six-window view of mature evergreens tops and the giant, bare maple, whose branches almost touch the house. It felt quite luxurious.

A meteorologist has just expressed excitement about one city in the state that has achieved the warmest windchill: 15 degrees.

Then he said this will be the warmest day of the next three.

BRRRRR

My furnace does not seem to be working -- I've asked it to go as warm as 72 and it's giving me 57. It's just as well, as half the time I don't even try to turn it on. If I'm home, I'm wearing a blanket anyhow.

It is now officially cold. The temperature is not supposed to rise above 25 for the entirety of the coming week. People are not only zipping up their coats and remembering their mittens, but digging out hats and scarves, too. And wearing them regardless of how stupid they feel they may look. I've taken to leaving my hat on in the office if I know I'm leaving again within a half hour.

It is now officially the Christmas season, as well. This is because a) of the concert Thursday, b) the beginning of December, c) the beginning of advent, d) the temperature plunge and e) the beginning of Christmas party schedule. For work, I have a Christmas party every weekend this month except for the weekend of Christmas, when I will be working. It makes me think of the dual government system: First there is the corporate Christmas party, which will be the fanciest affair and is farthest away. Next comes the local party just for our office. Last is one co-worker's private shindig.

Last year I didn't deck out the apartment much. If no one's seeing it but me, who really cares? I did rescue Douglas the Talking Fir from his box last week. His fate this December is still unknown. Perhaps I'll set him out somewhere with my wind-up Christmas doll that sings something from the Sound of Music -- they're quite a pair.