The Le Mars Area Chamber of Commerce organized trick-or-treating for children in downtown Le Mars Sat. Oct. 25. Children gathered at the Olson Cultural Event Center at First Avenue and First Street Northeast.
I spent the morning taking some photos.
My name is Bennet Goldstein, and this is the My Husband’s Trophy blog. Please use the links to the left to navigate this website. To learn more about this blog and it’s naming – as well as me – see the “About” section.
~Note: This blog was formerly (and will one day return to) its original iteration as outlined below. However, I have since moved to central Iowa to work full time for the Marshalltown Times-Republican as an education reporter. I spend the majority of my time covering the Marshalltown School District, Marshalltown Community College, county government, and the number of other miscellaneous assignments that come with working at a small town newspaper. I also produce my own photography, graphics, and video. As such, most posts on my blog, for now, will expand on or include additional multimedia content that did not make it into my original articles (which may be found on the Times-Republican website). I will write about HIV and pop culture as time allows. Thanks readers!~
This website is a forum dedicated to exploring topics related to HIV, LGBT (colloquially: “gay”) lives, political & pop cultures, and the arts. This assortment of topics may come across as odd or even crass.
National Hug a Newsperson Day is coming next month. I’d bet a kidney that the biggest reaction reporters get from their community, at best, is a hearty laugh: “Good try old boy, but no bone.”
Even so, the Iowa Newspaper Association encourages the public to celebrate by giving their favorite news reporter a hug. “We’re thankful for all they do to serve their communities and we hope you are too,” a statement cheerfully announced on the organization’s Facebook page last year.
But the declaration begs the question: At a time where the public perceives news as sensationalized and biased, and journalists as opportunistic sleazebags, is the public ready to physically embrace their local reporters?
I think not.
In September, Central Iowa news crews eagerly licked their chops waiting for their next story. Police had arrested a Marshalltown school board member on charges of animal cruelty and child endangerment. Her incarceration was brief, but any reprieve she might have felt following her release was curtailed after she locked herself inside the women’s restroom at the county sheriff’s office to avoid the publicity.
“This is a public place. We can’t have you barricading in the restroom, Mrs. Derby,” entreated chief jail administrator Joel Phillips through the restroom door. “Yes, we will be able to get something where you’ll be able to conceal yourself. I understand.”
She didn’t, of course. The only covering Mrs. Derby received was her photo on the six o’clock news and in the next day’s newspaper.
Other subjects confront the media spotlight head on.
Last April, Des Moines television crews made the unfortunate mistake of setting their tripods outside the home of Le Grand resident Chad Bryant, who was recently arrested for holding a teen against the youth’s will for several weeks at Bryant’s residence.
Shirtless and tattooed across his nipple and both arms, the 27-year-old Bryant approached a TV crew, whose camera was rolling. “Hey, we’ve had enough of your guys’ media bullshit,” he fumed, directing them down the street.
The intrepid crews stood their ground even after a “visibly upset” Bryant returned to his residence and brandished a shotgun in the doorway. He returned, now respectably dressed in a blue sweater, and dumped a big gulp of water on a cameraman’s head.
“Now if it had only been yesterday, someone could have told him it was National Hug a Newsperson Day, and he wouldn’t have thrown water on them,” my workmate Kathy observed.
Saturday, I had the pleasure of shadowing 8 young hunters at K-D Hunt Club, north of Sioux City, Iowa, for a Youth Pheasant Hunt. Although I’m not keen on guns, I do enjoy photographing people who use them. I also like the untamed parts of Iowa’s landscape, which presents challenges down to the individual blades of prairie grass that engross its surface. The plants have a nasty tendency to lead a camera’s autofocus astray, blurring the main action in exchange for a clear photo of their leafy strands swaying in the wind.
I decided on my drive home that my “shooting” the event with a camera possessed similarities to those who used hunting rifles. As we marched across the rolling landscape, we scanned the ground carefully for pheasants, considering where each member of the hunting party was positioned as well. (Those who walked too far ahead of the line presented a safety risk.) For my purposes, I kept tabs on my companions for aesthetic reasons — my effort to compose a good photograph. However, I can’t dismiss the adrenaline rush every time a rooster jostled the underbrush to get away. Whether any of us would get a clear shot remained a surprise until a bird either smashed into the ground or swooped ahead to land in a distant field, out of sight.