A Reporter's Life

Execution delayed

An overnight trip resulting in no execution was not what I'd expected when I set out Monday afternoon for San Quentin. But that's what happened. It was a wild, crazy ride and I will post links and maybe details at a point when I've had more than three hours of sleep in the last 40 hours.

I will say, though, that it was nice to get some recognition from journalists who work with respective organizations. I will also say that a few reporters, including one from a very large Southern California paper, asked some painfully stupid questions that even little ole' me could answer in her sleep.

Also, I've had radio interview requests from more than one radio station, regarding more than one case. But, in the midst of two very large cases that have national significance, I'm still getting disgruntled e-mails and messages from people wondering why I'm not covering every single detail of a local murder trial. At some point today, I realized it was only Tuesday. It feels more like Thursday.

Execution day

Well, it's here. Execution day. Ten hours from now, I will be in the depths of San Quentin State Prison, watching Michael Morales take his last breath. Today was bright, clear and cold. The execution was the first thing I thought of when I awoke this morning. I thought about it as I did laundry (while almost finishing "The Executioner's Song" by Norman Mailer, ironically). I thought about it while running, then showering. It's a case I can't avoid thinking about.

I've written a little about it here, and I've written a bunch of articles about it. Twenty-five years after he brutaly raped and murdered a 17-year-old Terri Lynn Winchell, Michael Morales will die tonight. In the process, the case has brought two families back to the spotlight, and it even managed to sully the name of Clinton prosecutor Kenneth Starr after documents supposedly filed by former jurors turned out to be forged.

For me, it's the end of about a year and a half of thinking, "This might actually happen, even though California has only executed 13 people since 1978." I'll be up most of the night and then will be writing more tomorrow, but there won't be any more court filings to watch for. After 25 years, Michael Morales' appeals are over.

myspace

I've had a lot of crazy stuff going on and life's been a bit odd lately, but that scary place known as myspace.com* just made me laugh so hard. I checked in to find a friend request from a divorced 44-year-old biker who has three kids from each of his two marriages, nine grandchildren and is looking for a "LIFE PARTNER." Said female must live in a 50-mile radius, have a good head on her shoulders, know what she wants in life, and possess good communication skills, according to his page. He's apparently had some issues with women from other countries wanting him to give them money, and he gives this warning: "I WILL NOT SEND MONEY SO DONT WASTE YOUR TIME WITH ME."

I have just one question: What about my myspace page indicated that I could possibly have any interest in the guy? Actually, I have a second question: Is this area really so bad that single guys have resorted to going online to find any and every female within driving distnce?


* If you don't know what myspace is, it's a place where you can meet people, post blogs and photos, and send both public and private messages.

Cheney the hunter

So the world knows that Vice President Dick Cheney accidentally shot up a fellow hunter this weekend, somehow mistaking the elderly attorney for a quail. The Washington press corps went nuts, wanting to know why the White House didn't announce it immediately, and they're still going nuts.

Now, they have a very valid point. "VP shoots someone" is news that the White House shouldn't cover up or sit on. But here's the thing: The Washington reporters are milking this one for all it's worth instead of grilling the administration about slightly more important things. Hint: "VP shoots someone" is not something that will really affect millions of people.

It comes down to this: The entire Washington press corps got scooped by a Texas newspaper whose reporters actually work their beats. They feel stupid, they're out of touch with reality and they don't know which end is up. Everyone but the Texas paper is acting childish.

All is not lost, though. The TV show hosts have something new to joke about. (Letterman: "Good news, ladies and gentlemen, we have finally located weapons of mass destruction: it's Dick Cheney.")

Self-censorship

I've been slacking off on this poor blog (and the closure of comments doesn't help), but I've sure had a lot going on. I'll probably post again before the day is out, but this article infuriated me to the point of posting now. Drug gangs in Mexico are terrorizing newspapers to the point that they've begun scaling back drug coverage so their reporters aren't killed. The article quotes one journalist: "We are in the hands of the narcos, and we have to acknowledge that. ... They are the ones who are setting the conditions. They make up the rules. They run things." The editor even said he's going to stop covering drug gangs.

In other words, organized crime is winning a battle in Mexico. Imagine that happening in the U.S. with the Mafia or the Mob. Actually, that kind of thing has happened here, but not to the point where gangsters fire 60 rounds and a grenade into a newspaper building. I'd like to think it's because we just wouldn't take it, but I'm not sure if that's the real reason.

At any rate, I find this more frustrating than unnerving. But I'm also intrigued, because I've long entertained a dream of being an organized crime reporter. Yes, it's hazardous, but I've never heard of a female reporter doing the job and I'd love to take on the challenge. But, for the sake of my family's sanity, I think I'll avoid taking such a job in Mexico.