• The personal and the political, or, Everyone is entitled to my opinion

    April 5, 2011
    Uncategorized

    Seeing as how my main occupation is now finding employment, this may be a dangerous thing to write. On the other hand, a simple web search will show the curious what I’ve written and opined about anyway.

    I have been an opinion writer for most of my professional career. At the Grant County Herald Independent, my first post-college employer, I wrote unsigned editorials representing the editorial view of The Newspaper. At the Beaver Dam Daily Citizen and then the Tri-County Press, the newspaper I half-owned, I wrote signed columns. When I got to Marketplace, even though previous editors had chosen to usually not take opinionated stances, I decided as editor to start, in part because, based on brief research of the area’s media, no one else was. To quote the title of one of the books of NBC-TV’s and ABC-TV’s David Brinkley, I decided that everyone is entitled to my opinion.

    I didn’t discover this until I started Marketplace of Ideas, but as it happened the philosophy of the Wall Street Journal editorial page fit my opinion worldview perfectly, as written by the Journal’s William H. Grimes in 1951:

    On our editorial page, we make no pretense of walking down the middle of the road. Our comments and interpretations are made from a definite point of view.

    It was, I believe, Robert Bartley, the long-time Wall Street Journal editorial page editor, who wrote that his opinion page (staffed separately from the news side) was designed to expound upon one particular set of principles, not do what most newspapers do and express a mishmash of opinions. Most daily newspapers of size that take opinionmongering seriously have an editorial board that decides what the newspaper’s position will be on the issue of the day. The result of that kind of approach is that most newspapers with editorial boards reflect positions that are all over the place based on whether yea or nay got a majority vote. (Note that the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel Sunday endorsed Supreme Court Justice David Prosser and Milwaukee County executive candidate Chris Abele, who are pretty politically opposite.)

    I prefer the consistent-philosophy approach because, for one thing, not all opinions are valid. If you think the Packers should fire Ted Thompson and Mike McCarthy after the Packers won Super Bowl XLV, to quote John Mellencamp, your opinion means nothin’. To quote U.S. Sen. Daniel Patrick Moynihan, you are entitled to your own opinion, but you are not entitled to your own facts, and if your opinion is based on faulty facts (not to mention reasoning), your opinion will be similarly faulty. It is impossible for humans to be perfectly consistent, but it is better to have the needle pointing more toward Consistent than toward Hypocrite.

    Everyone who knows me (including my wife, who has had to put up with my mostly unsolicited opinions for the more than 20 years she’s known me) knows how opinionated I am, or can be. (Runs in the family; in my case, though, I like to think my opinions are based on something more than just belief.) Truth be told, though, I pride myself on my ability to not express unsolicited opinions, even when someone expresses an opinion with which I vociferously disagree. The phrase “the personal is political” was not created by someone on the right side of the political spectrum. Regardless of how one feels about one particular political issue, we all have to get along, even with those with whom you disagree.

    One of the more negative trends of our culture is the trend of people of like political beliefs viewing media that feeds their points of view instead of challenging their points of view. That is one reason why I don’t listen to Rush Limbaugh, Sean Hannity, Mark Belling (other than in Belling’s case the fact that WISN radio’s signal doesn’t go very far north), et al, or watch Fox News. And that is (other than shameless self-promotion) why I always accepted discussion/debate/battle royal invitations for Wisconsin Public Radio, WTMJ-TV’s “Sunday Insight with Charlie Sykes,” Jo Egelhoff’s former show on WHBY in Appleton, or wherever else. I’ve always believed one gets better at opinionmongering by having one’s views challenged and honed in the marketplace of ideas. My views have shifted from conservative toward libertarian over the years anyway.

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  • >Presty the DJ, set 3

    April 5, 2011
    Uncategorized

    >Birthdays today include Lonnie White, singer for Smokey Robinson and the Miracles, which did …

    … and Eric Burdon of the Animals, which did …

    … and Dave Holland of Judas Priest, which did …

    … and Agnetha Fältskog of Abba, which did …

    … and …

    (Their music was the basis of the play “Mamma Mia.” I had thought one could not do a play based merely on a pop group’s portfolio. I was wrong.)

    Also Paula Cole, who did:

    And, in 2173, Harcourt Fenton Mudd, who will …

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  • Blast from the past: Who are you?

    April 4, 2011
    Uncategorized

    I wrote this on the Marketplace of Ideas blog when I returned to Marketplace in 2008. I think it remains accurate.

    Hey there everybody
    Please don’t romp or roam
    We’re a little nervous
    ’Cause we’re so far from home
    So this is what we do
    Sit back and let us groove
    And let us work on you
    — Chicago, “Introduction” from Chicago Transit Authority

    It occurred to me after writing Marketplace of Ideas e-column numbers one and two that many readers may have no idea who I am, since I left Marketplace in 2001, two children, one presidential election and numerous other events (including 9/11) ago. …

    (Warning for future reference: Reading this column may make you dizzy, since, as you may have already noticed, I often add enough parenthetical phrases to make reading me look like an electrocardiogram reading, augmented by hotlinks. Read on for examples.)

    “Prestegard” is a Norwegian word meaning either “priest’s farm” or “animal farm,” the latter of which strikes me as an unkind statement on the usual state of my work space. (My retort to such comments usually is that people with neat desks obviously don’t have enough work to do.) The most famous Prestegard is probably James H. Prestegard, Ph.D., “a noted researcher in biological structures” at the University of Georgia. (In contrast, my worst subject in school was science.)

    My father, also named Steve (his middle name; you can imagine the confusion during phone calls at home when I started sounding like him), is not a “noted researcher” (although he was part of southern Wisconsin’s first rock and roll band), but he worked in banking for 40½ years for one employer (with four different names) and, more importantly, was an excellent dad. My mother was a finalist in the 1960 Miss Wisconsin USA pageant, and my parents were pictured on the 1961 official Wisconsin road map, getting directions from a state trooper (a highly unlikely scene, believe me). I will never reach the level of coolness of any of the three famous Steves of the movie “The Tao of Steve” — Steve Austin (this one, although there is also Stone Cold Steve Austin, whose name is not actually Steve Austin), Steve McGarrett or Steve McQueen — or, for that matter, the “Cult of Steve,” but then again, life is too short to worry about being cool.

    I’m a native of (the People’s Republic of) Madison and a Journalism and Political Science graduate of the University of Wisconsin, where I probably spent more time playing in the world famous University of Wisconsin Band than on, say, studying. (Then again, the UW Band was much more fun, and that was before the Badgers started making regular appearances at football bowl games like three Rose Bowls and NCAA basketball and hockey tournaments.) I was a reporter for weekly and daily newspapers and owned a weekly newspaper for 1½ years before coming to Marketplace in January 1994. My side interest, other than eating, is sports announcing, currently on The Ripon Channel, including the twice-state-champion Ripon Tigers football team.

    For those who care about personality, according to the Myers–Briggs Type Indicator I’m an ESTJ, as were or are, according to these sites, Simon Peter, George W. Bush and eight other presidents, Jack Webb, Eliot Ness, John D. Rockefeller, Sam Walton, Rev. Billy Graham, Mike Wallace and Vince Lombardi. According to various online sites, I’m a “capitalist,” “libertarian,” more libertarian than conservative, and very right-wing economically and somewhat socially libertarian, as Milton Friedman was. (And according to this site, there is only one other Stephen Prestegard in the U.S.)

    More Steve trivia: I was the first person to win the Madison City Spelling Bee more than once, in 1977 and 1979 (possibly a harbinger to my future career as an editor). I earned the Eagle Scout Award in 1981. Between stints here at MARKETPLACE, I have had two political experiences — member (or, if you will, commissioner) of the City of Ripon Plan Commission and candidate for school board, where I said I wanted to finish first or last, and I got my wish. (This company prohibits its employees from serving in political offices the grounds that those who report the news should not be involved in being in the news, so thus ends my political “career.”)

    I’m a big fan of the rock group Chicago (this Chicago, not this Chicago). The lyrics that begin this column come from the first song of Chicago’s first album. My uncle (owner of an Appleton machine shop, incidentally; his wife, my aunt, found the ad for the Marketplace editor position back in 1994, so blame her if you don’t like what you read) once played the entire 16-minute-long “Ballet for a Girl in Buchannon” (including “Make Me Smile” and “Colour My World”) at ear-splitting levels in his house for me, and I was hooked from then on. I’m also a big fan of America’s sports car, the Chevrolet Corvette (any manual-transmission model from 1965 to 1981 or from 1997 onward), even though I sadly lack money or garage space for one. (Corvettes are also somewhat incompatible with tall people and families of five.)

    My most visible personal eccentricity, if you must know, has to do with my facial hair. In eighth grade, I had a science teacher who grew a beard during the fall (my first exposure to a deer hunting beard), then shaved it off after spring break. In my case, I have a beard during the winter, shave down to a goatee during the equinox seasons, and then usually shave down to a mustache during the summer. Why do I do this? Because I can.

    Journalism is a profession of, for most, long hours, low pay and little recognition outside of when a journalist screws up. (That may explain why so many journalists are liberals and tend to dislike business — perhaps they assume that all work environments are like theirs.) Yet, as I wrote here before, there is something bracing about having your name on your work for everyone to like, hate or otherwise critique. However, journalism is not nearly as tough as being a parent — my most important job, and yet the job I often feel least able to do.

    For those who wonder about how I got my particular political bent, it probably is at least in part the result of growing up in Madison and attending UW. It wasn’t just the daily display of some sort of left-wing idiocy; it was the fact that so many people took the left-wing idiots seriously and gave respect to views that no one with a brain should consider for more than 0.02 seconds.
    Personal example: Madison once had an “anti-nuclear dance group” called Nu Parable, which performed what they called “die-ins” (think Marcel Marceau performing the last scene in “Dr. Strangelove”) in public places, such as Madison’s East Towne Mall, to demonstrate their conviction that the large worldwide supply of nuclear weapons of the time was going to leave the Earth either a flaming and radioactive, or frozen and radioactive, hunk of rock orbiting the Sun. Nu Parable was particularly convinced that Ronald Reagan, having inexplicably failed to immolate the Earth during his first term in office, would certainly succeed if he was re-elected in 1984.

    Where would be an ideal place for Nu Parable to express this belief? During the National Anthem before the nationally televised Wisconsin–Ohio State football game that fall, of course. When you are standing on Camp Randall Stadium’s artificial turf in uniform playing the Star Spangled Banner, you do not expect, once you get to “And the rocket’s red glare,” people you don’t recognize to run past you on the way to the U.S. flag to perform their “die-in.” (Then again, Nu Parable probably didn’t expect the entire student section to start a “Nuke ‘em! Nuke ‘em!” chant as they were arrested by UW police.)

    Individuals or groups like Nu Parable have the right, under the First Amendment, to express whatever views they like. (The fact I was in uniform probably deterred me from finding one of the Nu Parables and expressing my constitutional rights upon that person, something the legal system probably would have called “felony battery.”) What seems unique to the left is that much of the left seems to believe that everyone should live like the lefties believe people should live, and they enforce their beliefs through, say, burning down under-construction million-dollar-houses because such houses are inconsistent with their environmental views.

    I have become more libertarian as I’ve gotten older. We have certainly seen that Republican presidents or governors (or, more accurately, those they appoint or those elected with them) can screw things up or waste our tax dollars left and right almost as well as Democratic presidents or governors can. I do not want to be told how to live my life by a conservative-leaning government (consider that the Federal Communications Commission is fining ABC-TV over the appearance of bare actress skin in an episode of “NYPD Blue,” a series that has been off the air for three years) any more than I want to be told how to live my life by a liberal-leaning government (read the stickers warning about the air bags that are federally mandated to be in your car). At the risk of igniting an argument I won’t explore in detail here, one advantage of the free market is that if you don’t like a particular company, you don’t have to use that company’s products or services. Such, unfortunately, is not the case with government. (As to whether we really have a free market in the U.S., that argument is likely to be picked up later.)

    As I wrote before, I do not believe markets are perfect, because humans are imperfect. (This probably separates me from the followers of Ayn Rand — for one thing, Rand was an atheist, and I am not — although I’m a big fan of Atlas Shrugged, which is one of the great philosophical works of the 20th century.) To paraphrase Winston Churchill, it may well be that capitalism is the second worst economic system on the planet, with all other economic systems tied for worst. But if God indeed gave us all reason and free will, then no other economic system other than the free market is compatible with that reality — people making their life decisions themselves. As Churchill put it, “The common denominator in the history of the English-speaking peoples is individual freedom. We are its creator, its protector and its guarantor.”

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  • Presty the DJ, set 2

    April 4, 2011
    Music

    If you asked my wife about her favorite songs (which, as with Friday, are the property of the current copyright-holders), she would mention two. First, from the 1970s, Mr. Loaf:

    (There is a story about the singer accompanying Mr. Loaf: Her name is Karla DeVito, but her voice is Ellen Foley, Markie Post’s predecessor on the 1980s sitcom “Night Court.”)

    Shortly thereafter, a Canadian group, the Kings (which got about as much airplay as Lighthouse thanks to those Canadian domestic content laws), released this two-part song:

    Actually, my former assistant should be doing this since she is an actual DJ. (Contact her if you’re looking for one.) She one day mentioned an unusual guilty pleasure for someone who I believe was born after this song, part of a musical that played in the U.K. for three years and in the U.S. for two months, was released:

    Finally, two birthdays today: Guitarist Dave Hill of the Climax Blues Band, which  …
    … and guitarist Pick Withers of Dire Straits, which did this at our wedding:

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  • One fine morning at 25 or 6 to 4, make me smile

    April 1, 2011
    Music

    Not many listeners of Rush Limbaugh know that his original radio idea was to combine rock music with conservative political thought. I don’t know where that would fit in radio today (and if a radio exec thinks it does, contact me ASAP), but it would be a fun idea particularly for a right-wing fan of rock music, irrespective of rock’s usual politics — (insert deep announcer voice here) rock and roll … and the right.

    So I thought I would occasionally post some music (which, of course, is the property of the copyright-holder(s)), assuming those who post the music allow it to be posted. (And if not, you’ll get a big black box and a message about that.)

    My two favorite songs are from the rare sector of music that I call “brass rock” — rock bands with horn sections, including Chicago (minus the sappy ballads), Blood Sweat & Tears, the Ides of March, Tower of Power, and others.

    Readers of my previous blog know how enthralled I was when Chicago played the EAA AirVenture last July. My uncle once played Chicago’s 16-minute-long “Ballet for a Girl in Buchannon” (including “Make Me Smile” and “Colour My World”) at ear-splitting levels in his house for me, and I was hooked from then on.

    “Make Me Smile,” from Chicago’s second album, “Chicago II,” turned out to be their first AM top 40 radio song. That album also produced my kids’ favorite of theirs, “25 or 6 to 4,” a song about … writing a song:

    Song number three is from a Canadian group, Lighthouse, which (as with most Canadian groups) was much more famous north of the border than here. (For one reason, Canadian broadcasting includes local-content requirements, which would never fly in a country that had the First Amendment.) “One Fine Morning” got to number 24 (probably in its inferior shortened version) on the Billboard Hot 100.

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pvVN_KRriTM%5D

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  • A checkered flag

    April 1, 2011
    media, Wheels

    I wrote a lot about cars in my previous blog. That is partly because many readers of the late Marketplace are aficionados of cars, current or vintage. And that is partly because of my own vehicular interest.

    I have been a reader of car magazines for decades. That means I’ve been a reader of the work of David E. Davis Jr., the dean of U.S. automotive journalism as so deemed by Time magazine and others in the field. Davis was the editor of Car and Driver twice, founded Automobile Magazine, and was the first editor of Winding Road.

    Davis, 80, died Sunday after cancer surgery. As far as I know, Davis and I never crossed paths (perhaps at Road America), but he was a role model from afar. (Well, one state to the east, since most car magazines are based in the Detroit area.) For one thing, he authored my favorite quote about the automobile:

    We drive our cars because they make us free. With cars we need not wait in airline terminals, or travel only where the railway tracks go. Governments detest our cars: they give us too much freedom. How do you control people who can climb into a car at any hour of the day or night and drive to who knows where?

    Car and Driver editor Eddie Alterman wrote:

    He said the secret to his success lay in his ability to marry southern storytelling to big-city presentation. These gifts prompted Bill Ziff, the owner of Car and Driver up until 1985, to call David E. “the man who made special-interest magazines sing.” It was a formula that many other magazines, including some with great literary aspirations, rode to their own success. And it’s still the foundation of what we try do here every month.
    He was so in love with the craft and subject matter of car magazines that he came to inhabit an archetype. He was the dashing, witty, high-spirited, and deeply knowledgeable writer/editor who brought the automobile to life, whose personal flair transferred to whatever he was writing about.
    David E. could have written and edited brilliantly on a wide range of topics, from military history to hunting to food to travel to books. But he chose cars, he said, because that’s where the action was. The automobile, in David E.’s formulation, was not only the thing that took you to your next adventure; a great car was an adventure self-contained. …
    He had the best life anyone could imagine, filled with great cars, loyal friends, and exhilarating journeys. And his wife, Jeannie, kept up with him, kept him focused, and, most important, kept him entertained. Davis demanded that of the people he let into his circle. You had better keep up.

    Davis also sold advertising for Road & Track magazine and wrote ad copy for an ad agency whose client, Chevrolet, sold a car you have read about on this blog, the Corvette.

    Automobile’s Joe DeMatio wrote:

    Davis, who had already refashioned Car and Driver into one of the most literate and entertaining special-interest magazines in America, imagined Automobile Magazine as a celebration of the automotive good life with the rallying cry “No Boring Cars,” but the slogan could just as easily have been applied to everything else in his life: No boring stories. No boring meetings. No boring road trips. No boring wardrobes. No boring friends. No boring employees. No boring food. No boring parties. When he was stuck with boring bosses, he suffered them most reluctantly, and in fact it was his disgust with the management team at CBS, which bought Car and Driver from Ziff–Davis Publishing in the mid-1980s, that propelled him to quit what he had considered the best job in the world, editor-in-chief of Car and Driver.
    Conventional wisdom held that the “buff book” category could not accommodate a fourth title, in addition to Car and Driver, Motor Trend, and Road and Track, but Davis thought differently and was determined that Automobile Magazine would not only succeed but would forge a new path in automotive journalism. The physical magazine itself changed the category, introducing full-color photography and thick paper stock, which the other three magazines quickly copied. The writing, editing, and magazine-production skills that the longtime editors of Road and Track, John and Elaine Bond, had instilled in Davis in the 1950s, and which he had honed during his many years at Car and Driver, were taken to new levels in the pages of Automobile Magazine. Davis directed it all with panache, style, and seeming ease, and his monthly American Driver column was a must-read for America’s most discerning automotive enthusiasts and the biggest players in the automotive industry.

    Winding Road’s Seyth Miersma wrote:

    Born in Burnside, Kentucky in 1930, and indelibly shaped by a racing accident in 1955, DED learned early on that the biggest things to fear in life were tedium and inactivity. His penchant for the extraordinary ran to include his circle of friends, iconoclastic wardrobe, and, most notably, his style of writing. Davis had the ability to recount tales or write reviews in language that was equal parts art and honesty. DED actually spoke the way that he wrote, too, with a sort of authoritative musicality that revealed him as not only a living link to a more graceful era, but also as a simply remarkable man.
    Davis’s written legacy reveals a man that helped to shape what it means today to be an auto enthusiast. His vast knowledge and passion for all things automotive spilled through in every column he penned, and tapped into generations of enthusiasts that conceived of vehicles as being much more than basic transportation. He will be missed.

    About that race car crash, Laura Cowan, who worked for Davis, writes:

    The helmet he kept from the crash that scraped half his face onto a racetrack at age 25 didn’t represent a story about suffering. It was a two-part story: Part one about how if he could face death, no client meeting could ever go so badly that he would ever be intimidated again. Part two was a hilarious anecdote about how the helmet makers tried to advertise the fact that their product had saved David’s life. He begged to differ, writing to politely notify them that he had survived in spite of their handiwork. Always a punchline at the end.
    How can I even begin to tell you the stories he told, and how he told them?
    Everyone knows David E. reinvented automotive journalism. In fact, if you’ve read any major car magazine in the last couple of decades, that irreverent style is an echo of David E.’s inimitable voice. He was a master storyteller. He wrote like he spoke, and told me that eventually he began to speak like he wrote. He refused to use the subjunctive case in his writing, because he hated the way it sounded. Bravo to a man who could use the English language so intentionally and with such passion. He not only wrote like he spoke: he wrote like he lived.

    What I got from Davis was the necessity of an editor’s interjecting his or her own personality into his or her magazine — not to assuage the editor’s ego, but because, in a marketplace (!) with many different reading choices, a publication needs to stand out however possible.

    Automobile editor Jean Jennings, who followed Davis from Car & Driver to Automobile, tells in a story why someone would work for Davis:

    David E. would tell you that it was the magazine of his dreams. …
    The meat of the magazine would be written by the best writers in the world. They would not necessarily be automotive journalists: humorist P. J. O’Rourke followed David E. from Car and Driver. Pulitzer Prize-winning writer David Halberstam answered the call more than once to write a big-picture story. Some were not journalists at all: Jim Harrison, the Michigan poet/novelist who wrote about hunting for Sports Afield and about food for Esquire, contributed several essays in the first five years. …
    David E. hung a quote over his door, which he attributed to former Car and Driver editor Patrick Bedard: “If you want readers to think a story is important, you have to treat it importantly.” They were words we can only try to embrace as heartily as did David E., the master of the grand gesture and the Big Idea.

    Davis’ last column printed in his lifetime was in the April Car and Driver:

    When the Japanese sneak attack on Pearl Harbor projected the United States sled-length into World War II, President Roosevelt immediately looked to the nation’s automobile industry to change over from automobiles to military hardware more or less overnight. For instance, an Oldsmobile plant in Lansing, Michigan, went from Oldsmobiles to artillery within months of our declaration of war. Remarkable transformations like this were overseen by senior automotive executives whose contributions to the war effort were universally acknowledged at the time and are still recognized today.
    Paradoxically, President Roosevelt’s ­passionately progressive wife, Eleanor, did whatever she could to keep the nation’s industrialists out of these wartime activities, fearing, I guess, that the Roosevelt New Deal might be contaminated by contact with “those people” in Detroit or Pittsburgh or Los Angeles.
    One imagines New Deal production commissars and workers’ committees overseeing production of the thousands and thousands of Dodge and Chevrolet trucks that provided mobility for Allied armies all over the world.
    Now we’ve had a latter-day taste of how the government will run our automobile industry, with the rise and ignominious fall of the so-called “car czar,” Mr. Steven Rattner. He fired GM chairman Rick Wagoner and created a place at the trough for the United Auto Workers union as a member of GM’s management. The UAW got one board seat and picked analyst Steve Girsky, already a Wagoner advisor, to champion their interests on the board. ­Rattner did not have much to do with the selection; Girsky turns out to be a very able vice-chairman at GM. Rattner wrote a book, Overhaul, in which he expressed ­contempt for every living soul with a southeastern Michigan ZIP Code. Then he got caught running a scam on New York state’s vast multi-gazillion-dollar Common Retirement Fund.
    He would be a very poor choice to oversee your IRA, and there are no sex scenes in his stupid book.

    Back in 1994, I interviewed Fred Kiekhaefer, president of Mercury Marine Hi-Performance (now Mercury Racing). Kiekhaefer, son of Mercury Marine founder Carl Kiekhaefer, had a green flag on his lapel, and Kiekhaefer pointed out the green flag, indicating an ongoing race, was more appropriate than a checkered flag, which indicates the end of a race. Davis has reached the end of his race, and a race well run.

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  • Beginning at the end

    March 31, 2011
    Uncategorized

    Let’s begin with a preview of the April 12 Marketplace Magazine:

    -30-
    In print journalism days of old, when a writer was done with a story, he would type “-30-” to indicate to the typesetter when the story was finished, supposedly to tell the typesetter he could take 30 minutes off.
    That is the explanation for the headline. The April 12 Marketplace will be the last issue of Marketplace Magazine, which means this is the last Marketplace of Ideas column.
    Marketplace hence joins the list that includes Life Magazine, American Mercury (H.L. Mencken’s creation), Brill’s Content (a magazine about the media), Business 2.0, Confidential (which according to Newsweek included “sin and sex with a seasoning of right wing politics”), Inside Sports, Mademoiselle, McCall’s (which my mother read), Mechanix Illustrated, National Lampoon, Omni Magazine, PC Magazine, Photoplay (which my grandmother read), Popular Electronics, Sport magazine, and other magazines that served their purpose and then ended. Other than possibly bad ideas of elected officials, nothing on this earth lasts forever, and change is inevitable.
    Marketplace was created for two reasons — to report on business with the kind of depth, breadth, perspective and context (“news readers can use,” as one editor put it) that no publication in the area was providing its readers, and to provide a vehicle for businesses to reach other businesses that could be their customers. Marketplace started by covering essentially the U.S. 41 corridor and as far west as Waupaca and the Ripon/Berlin/Green Lake area, then expanded to the Lakeshore and points north, and then covered Marathon, Portage and Wood counties.
    I can be credited or blamed, depending on the reader’s perspective, for reason number three for existence — as a soapbox on behalf of our readers. This column existed because I thought it wasn’t enough to report just what’s going on when some things going on (such as bad ideas coming to fruition in Washington and Madison) were going to negatively affect the readers of Marketplace. That led to negative reactions on the part of some Marketplace readers, but readers are entitled to their opinions.
    I was not the first editor of Marketplace, but it may be appropriate that I’m the last editor of Marketplace because my name, for better or worse, is on the largest number of issues of Marketplace as its editor and, for the past year, its publisher. I always considered this the greatest journalism job in Northeast Wisconsin because it allowed me to meet and communicate with people who served their customers, created jobs, and contributed to their communities. The list of outstanding businesses and business owners I’ve met over 10 years — the productive people of Northeast and North Central Wisconsin, the people who make Northeast and North Central Wisconsin a worthwhile place to live, to work, and to own a business — is far too long to include here.
    Marketplace sought to highlight the amazing work ethic of Wisconsin workers, the innovation of Northeast and North Central Wisconsin entrepreneurs and business owners, and the quality of life we enjoy here. The readers of Marketplace, for 21½ years, showed a long-term view and long-term optimism by withstanding three recessions, stock market hiccups, ups and downs in their and other industries and geographic areas, the various dumb things government does, and so on, determined to the end that their (present or future) venture will be a success.
    I worked with a lot of great people here, including Erica Dakins, whose work for Marketplace — which included cover and other photos, writing and editing, sales assistance and circulation, among the duties I can think of — cannot be summed up by a job title. The highest compliment I can give Erica is that I should have hired her. (I didn’t hire her; she started here a week before I came back.) In case I didn’t mention it in 1994, I am overdue in thanking Mark Karavakis, Marketplace’s first publisher, for hiring me. I thank our account representatives, Marc Hipple and Silvija Fisher, as well as those others listed in our staff listing and those who aren’t for their efforts for Marketplace as well. I also thank the management of Journal Community Publishing Group and Journal Communications for hiring me and then giving an editor a chance to be a publisher as well.
    And finally, I thank all our readers for reading, and our advertisers for advertising, for these past 21½ years. I hope Marketplace was worth your investment, in time and otherwise. Farewell.

    That is (or will be since this is written two weeks before subscribers get their printed copy) the end of Marketplace. Not the end of me. Since I got word 24 hours ago, I’m still processing being unemployed for the first time since my first day of work May 23, 1988. So other than (I hope) finding meaningful employment, I’m not sure what I’m going to do.

    I’ve been told, and it makes sense, that I should start a blog to maintain the discipline of writing. (Rust is a terrible thing, as anyone who owned a 1970s-era car should know.) And so, here begins, for an indeterminate amount of time, The Presteblog. The Presteblog is likely (though not certain) to read much like Marketplace of Ideas (posted at www.marketplacemagazine.com/blogs/blog2.php for an indeterminate amount of time), the opinion column and blog of Marketplace in the 10 years I was the editor of Marketplace. (What else would you call an opinion column in a publication called “Marketplace”?)

    The late Marketplace of Ideas blog was usually four days of business/political stuff (and in three years of daily blogging I certainly never lacked for material), along with what I called “Frideas,” on subjects that might be found in the Wall Street Journal’s Weekend Journal — which included everything from cars to pets to parenting to adult beverages to my sons’ Cub Scouting. We’ll see if I can maintain that schedule. (I know I will tomorrow, because I had a piece written for tomorrow that, if I may be immodest, was too good to not run somewhere.)

    The obvious thing I have to say is that if readers know of someone looking for a writer or editor or media geek with 22 years of experience in this (insert your favorite adjective, printable or not) line of work, email presty1965@gmail.com. (Résumés, samples, references, etc. available upon request.)

    We’ll all see where this goes.

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Steve Prestegard.com: The Presteblog

The thoughts of a journalist/libertarian–conservative/Christian husband, father, Eagle Scout and aficionado of obscure rock music. Thoughts herein are only the author’s and not necessarily the opinions of his family, friends, neighbors, church members or past, present or future employers.

  • Steve
    • About, or, Who is this man?
    • Facebook
    • Twitter
    • Adventures in ruralu0026nbsp;inkBack in June 2009, I was driving somewhere through a rural area. And for some reason, I had a flashback to two experiences in my career about that time of year many years ago. In 1988, eight days after graduating from the University of Wisconsin, I started work at the Grant County Herald Independent in Lancaster as a — well, the — reporter. Four years after that, on my 27th birthday, I purchased, with a business partner, the Tri-County Press in Cuba City, my first business venture. Both were experiences about which Wisconsin author Michael Perry might write. I thought about all this after reading a novel, The Deadline, written by a former newspaper editor and publisher. (Now who would write a novel about a weekly newspaper?) As a former newspaper owner, I picked at some of it — why finance a newspaper purchase through the bank if the seller is willing to finance it? Because the mean bank lender is a plot point! — and it is much more interesting than reality, but it is very well written, with a nicely twisting plot, and quite entertaining, again more so than reality. There is something about that first job out of college that makes you remember it perhaps more…
    • Adventures in radioI’ve been in the full-time work world half my life. For that same amount of time I’ve been broadcasting sports as a side interest, something I had wanted to since I started listening to games on radio and watching on TV, and then actually attending games. If you ask someone who’s worked in radio for some time about the late ’70s TV series “WKRP in Cincinnati,” most of them will tell you that, if anything, the series understated how wacky working in radio can be. Perhaps the funniest episode in the history of TV is the “WKRP” episode, based on a true story, about the fictional radio station’s Thanksgiving promotion — throwing live turkeys out of a helicopter under the mistaken belief that, in the words of WKRP owner Arthur Carlson, “As God is my witness, I thought turkeys could fly.” [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ST01bZJPuE0] I’ve never been involved in anything like that. I have announced games from the roofs of press boxes (once on a nice day, and once in 50-mph winds), from a Mississippi River bluff (more on that later), and from the front row of the second balcony of the University of Wisconsin Fieldhouse (great view, but not a place to go if…
    • “Good morning/afternoon/evening, ________ fans …”
    • My biggest storyEarlier this week, while looking for something else, I came upon some of my own work. (I’m going to write a blog someday called “Things I Found While Looking for Something Else.” This is not that blog.) The Grant County Sheriff’s Department, in the county where I used to live, has a tribute page to the two officers in county history who died in the line of duty. One is William Loud, a deputy marshal in Cassville, shot to death by two bank robbers in 1912. The other is Tom Reuter, a Grant County deputy sheriff who was shot to death at the end of his 4 p.m.-to-midnight shift March 18, 1990. Gregory Coulthard, then a 19-year-old farmhand, was convicted of first-degree intentional homicide and is serving a life sentence, with his first eligibility for parole on March 18, 2015, just 3½ years from now. I’ve written a lot over the years. I think this, from my first two years in the full-time journalism world, will go down as the story I remember the most. For journalists, big stories contain a paradox, which was pointed out in CBS-TV’s interview of Andy Rooney on his last “60 Minutes” Sunday. Morley Safer said something along the line…
  • Food and drink
    • The Roesch/Prestegard familyu0026nbsp;cookbookFrom the family cookbook(s) All the families I’m associated with love to eat, so it’s a good thing we enjoy cooking. The first out-of-my-house food memory I have is of my grandmother’s cooking for Christmas or other family occasions. According to my mother, my grandmother had a baked beans recipe that she would make for my mother. Unfortunately, the recipe seems to have  disappeared. Also unfortunately, my early days as a picky, though voluminous, eater meant I missed a lot of those recipes made from such wholesome ingredients as lard and meat fat. I particularly remember a couple of meals that involve my family. The day of Super Bowl XXXI, my parents, my brother, my aunt and uncle and a group of their friends got together to share lots of food and cheer on the Packers to their first NFL title in 29 years. (After which Jannan and I drove to Lambeau Field in the snow,  but that’s another story.) Then, on Dec. 31, 1999, my parents, my brother, my aunt and uncle and Jannan and I (along with Michael in utero) had a one-course-per-hour meal to appropriately end years beginning with the number 1. Unfortunately I can’t remember what we…
    • SkålI was the editor of Marketplace Magazine for 10 years. If I had to point to one thing that demonstrates improved quality of life since I came to Northeast Wisconsin in 1994, it would be … … the growth of breweries and  wineries in Northeast Wisconsin. The former of those two facts makes sense, given our heritage as a brewing state. The latter is less self-evident, since no one thinks of Wisconsin as having a good grape-growing climate. Some snobs claim that apple or cherry wines aren’t really wines at all. But one of the great facets of free enterprise is the opportunity to make your own choice of what food and drink to drink. (At least for now, though some wish to restrict our food and drink choices.) Wisconsin’s historically predominant ethnic group (and our family’s) is German. Our German ancestors did unfortunately bring large government and high taxes with them, but they also brought beer. Europeans brought wine with them, since they came from countries with poor-quality drinking water. Within 50 years of a wave of mid-19th-century German immigration, brewing had become the fifth largest industry in the U.S., according to Maureen Ogle, author of Ambitious Brew: The Story of American Beer. Beer and wine have…
  • Wheels
    • America’s sports carMy birthday in June dawned without a Chevrolet Corvette in front of my house. (The Corvette at the top of the page was featured at the 2007 Greater Milwaukee Auto Show. The copilot is my oldest son, Michael.) Which isn’t surprising. I have three young children, and I have a house with a one-car garage. (Then again, this would be more practical, though a blatant pluck-your-eyes-out violation of the Corvette ethos. Of course, so was this.) The reality is that I’m likely to be able to own a Corvette only if I get a visit from the Corvette Fairy, whose office is next door to the Easter Bunny. (I hope this isn’t foreshadowing: When I interviewed Dave Richter of Valley Corvette for a car enthusiast story in the late great Marketplace Magazine, he said that the most popular Corvette in most fans’ minds was a Corvette built during their days in high school. This would be a problem for me in that I graduated from high school in 1983, when no Corvette was built.) The Corvette is one of those cars whose existence may be difficult to understand within General Motors Corp. The Corvette is what is known as a “halo car,” a car that drives people into showrooms, even if…
    • Barges on fouru0026nbsp;wheelsI originally wrote this in September 2008.  At the Fox Cities Business Expo Tuesday, a Smart car was displayed at the United Way Fox Cities booth. I reported that I once owned a car into which trunk, I believe, the Smart could be placed, with the trunk lid shut. This is said car — a 1975 Chevrolet Caprice coupe (ours was dark red), whose doors are, I believe, longer than the entire Smart. The Caprice, built down Interstate 90 from us Madisonians in Janesville (a neighbor of ours who worked at the plant probably helped put it together) was the flagship of Chevy’s full-size fleet (which included the stripper Bel Air and middle-of-the-road Impala), featuring popular-for-the-time vinyl roofs, better sound insulation, an upgraded cloth interior, rear fender skirts and fancy Caprice badges. The Caprice was 18 feet 1 inch long and weighed 4,300 pounds. For comparison: The midsize Chevrolet of the ear was the Malibu, which was the same approximate size as the Caprice after its 1977 downsizing. The compact Chevrolet of the era was the Nova, which was 200 inches long — four inches longer than a current Cadillac STS. Wikipedia’s entry on the Caprice has this amusing sentence: “As fuel economy became a bigger priority among Americans…
    • Behind the wheel
    • Collecting only dust or rust
    • Coooooooooooupe!
    • Corvettes on the screen
    • The garage of misfit cars
    • 100 years (and one day) of our Chevrolets
    • They built Excitement, sort of, once in a while
    • A wagon by any otheru0026nbsp;nameFirst written in 2008. You will see more don’t-call-them-station-wagons as you drive today. Readers around my age have probably had some experience with a vehicle increasingly rare on the road — the station wagon. If you were a Boy Scout or Girl Scout, or were a member of some kind of youth athletic team, or had a large dog, or had relatives approximately your age, or had friends who needed to be transported somewhere, or had parents who occasionally had to haul (either in the back or in a trailer) more than what could be fit inside a car trunk, you (or, actually, your parents) were the target demographic for the station wagon. “Station wagons came to be like covered wagons — so much family activity happened in those cars,” said Tim Cleary, president of the American Station Wagon Owners Association, in Country Living magazine. Wagons “were used for everything from daily runs to the grocery store to long summer driving trips, and while many men and women might have wanted a fancier or sportier car, a station wagon was something they knew they needed for the family.” The “station wagon” originally was a vehicle with a covered seating area to take people between train stations…
    • Wheels on theu0026nbsp;screenBetween my former and current blogs, I wrote a lot about automobiles and TV and movies. Think of this post as killing two birds (Thunderbirds? Firebirds? Skylarks?) with one stone. Most movies and TV series view cars the same way most people view cars — as A-to-B transportation. (That’s not counting the movies or series where the car is the plot, like the haunted “Christine” or “Knight Rider” or the “Back to the Future” movies.) The philosophy here, of course, is that cars are not merely A-to-B transportation. Which disqualifies most police shows from what you’re about to read, even though I’ve watched more police video than anything else, because police cars are plain Jane vehicles. The highlight in a sense is in the beginning: The car chase in my favorite movie, “Bullitt,” featuring Steve McQueen’s 1968 Ford Mustang against the bad guys’ 1968 Dodge Charger: [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GMc2RdFuOxIu0026amp;fmt=18] One year before that (but I didn’t see this until we got Telemundo on cable a couple of years ago) was a movie called “Operación 67,” featuring (I kid you not) a masked professional wrestler, his unmasked sidekick, and some sort of secret agent plot. (Since I don’t know Spanish and it’s not…
    • While riding in my Cadillac …
  • Entertainments
    • Brass rocksThose who read my former blog last year at this time, or have read this blog over the past months, know that I am a big fan of the rock group Chicago. (Back when they were a rock group and not a singer of sappy ballads, that is.) Since rock music began from elements of country music, jazz and the blues, brass rock would seem a natural subgenre of rock music. A lot of ’50s musical acts had saxophone players, and some played with full orchestras … [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9CPS-WuUKUE] … but it wasn’t until the more-or-less simultaneous appearances of Chicago and Blood Sweat u0026amp; Tears on the musical scene (both groups formed in 1967, both had their first charting singles in 1969, and they had the same producer) that the usual guitar/bass/keyboard/drum grouping was augmented by one or more trumpets, a sax player and a trombone player. While Chicago is my favorite group (but you knew that already), the first brass rock song I remember hearing was BSu0026amp;T’s “Spinning Wheel” — not in its original form, but on “Sesame Street,” accompanied by, yes, a giant spinning wheel. [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qi9sLkyhhlE] [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OxWSOuNsN20] [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U9U34uPjz-g] I remember liking Chicago’s “Just You ‘n Me” when it was released as a single, and…
    • Drive and Eat au0026nbsp;RockThe first UW home football game of each season also is the opener for the University of Wisconsin Marching Band, the world’s finest college marching band. (How the UW Band has not gotten the Sudler Trophy, which is to honor the country’s premier college marching bands, is beyond my comprehension.) I know this because I am an alumnus of the UW Band. I played five years (in the last rank of the band, Rank 25, motto: “Where Men Are Tall and Run-On Is Short”), marching in 39 football games at Camp Randall Stadium, the Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome in Minneapolis, Michigan Stadium in Ann Arbor, Memorial Stadium at the University of Illinois (worst artificial turf I had ever seen), the University of Nevada–Las Vegas’ Sam Boyd Silver Bowl, the former Dyche Stadium at Northwestern University, five high school fields and, in my one bowl game, Legion Field in Birmingham, Ala., site of the 1984 Hall of Fame Bowl. The UW Band was, without question, the most memorable experience of my college days, and one of the most meaningful experiences of my lifetime. It was the most physical experience of my lifetime, to be sure. Fifteen minutes into my first Registration…
    • Keep on rockin’ in the freeu0026nbsp;worldOne of my first ambitions in communications was to be a radio disc jockey, and to possibly reach the level of the greats I used to listen to from WLS radio in Chicago, which used to be one of the great 50,000-watt AM rock stations of the country, back when they still existed. (Those who are aficionados of that time in music and radio history enjoyed a trip to that wayback machine when WLS a Memorial Day Big 89 Rewind, excerpts of which can be found on their Web site.) My vision was to be WLS’ afternoon DJ, playing the best in rock music between 2 and 6, which meant I wouldn’t have to get up before the crack of dawn to do the morning show, yet have my nights free to do whatever glamorous things big-city DJs did. Then I learned about the realities of radio — low pay, long hours, zero job security — and though I have dabbled in radio sports, I’ve pretty much cured myself of the idea of working in radio, even if, to quote WAPL’s Len Nelson, “You come to work every day just like everybody else does, but we’re playing rock ’n’ roll songs, we’re cuttin’ up.…
    • Monday on the flight line, not Saturday in the park
    • Music to drive by
    • The rock ofu0026nbsp;WisconsinWikipedia begins its item “Music of Wisconsin” thusly: Wisconsin was settled largely by European immigrants in the late 19th century. This immigration led to the popularization of galops, schottisches, waltzes, and, especially, polkas. [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yl7wCczgNUc] So when I first sought to write a blog piece about rock musicians from Wisconsin, that seemed like a forlorn venture. Turned out it wasn’t, because when I first wrote about rock musicians from Wisconsin, so many of them that I hadn’t mentioned came up in the first few days that I had to write a second blog entry fixing the omissions of the first. This list is about rock music, so it will not include, for instance, Milwaukee native and Ripon College graduate Al Jarreau, who in addition to having recorded a boatload of music for the jazz and adult contemporary/easy listening fan, also recorded the theme music for the ’80s TV series “Moonlighting.” Nor will it include Milwaukee native Eric Benet, who was for a while known more for his former wife, Halle Berry, than for his music, which includes four number one singles on the Ru0026amp;B charts, “Spend My Life with You” with Tamia, “Hurricane,” “Pretty Baby” and “You’re the Only One.” Nor will it include Wisconsin’s sizable contributions to big…
    • Steve TV: All Steve, All the Time
    • “Super Steve, Man of Action!”
    • Too much TV
    • The worst music of allu0026nbsp;timeThe rock group Jefferson Airplane titled its first greatest-hits compilation “The Worst of Jefferson Airplane.” Rolling Stone magazine was not being ironic when it polled its readers to decide the 10 worst songs of the 1990s. I’m not sure I agree with all of Rolling Stone’s list, but that shouldn’t be surprising; such lists are meant for debate, after all. To determine the “worst,” songs appropriate for the “Vinyl from Hell” segment that used to be on a Madison FM rock station, requires some criteria, which does not include mere overexposure (for instance, “Macarena,” the video of which I find amusing since it looks like two bankers are singing it). Before we go on: Blog posts like this one require multimedia, so if you find a song you hate on this blog, I apologize. These are also songs that I almost never listen to because my sound system has a zero-tolerance policy — if I’m listening to the radio or a CD and I hear a song I don’t like, it’s, to quote Bad Company, gone gone gone. My blonde wife won’t be happy to read that one of her favorite ’90s songs, 4 Non Blondes’ “What’s Up,” starts the list. (However,…
    • “You have the right to remain silent …”
  • Madison
    • Blasts from the Madison media past
    • Blasts from my Madison past
    • Blasts from our Madison past
    • What’s the matter with Madison?
    • Wisconsin – Madison = ?
  • Sports
    • Athletic aesthetics, or “cardinal” vs. “Big Red”
    • Choose your own announcer
    • La Follette state 1982 (u0022It was 30 years ago todayu0022)
    • The North Dakota–Wisconsin Hockey Fight of 1982
    • Packers vs. Brewers
  • Hall of Fame
    • The case(s) against teacher unions
    • The Class of 1983
    • A hairy subject, or face the face
    • It’s worse than you think
    • It’s worse than you think, 2010–11 edition
    • My favorite interview subject of all time
    • Oh look! Rural people!
    • Prestegard for president!
    • Unions vs. the facts, or Hiding in plain sight
    • When rhetoric goes too far
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