The P-I, going and coming

From my old office at the Seattle P-I you could see the reflection of our iconic P-I Globe overhead in the windows of a building across the courtyard. We used to joke about checking to make sure the world was still turning, figuring that’s how we’d find out if they decided to shut the paper down.

Now that the print version of the P-I really has closed, it’s meager comfort I suppose that the red neon “It’s in the P-I” still spins around the neon globe. Coverage of today’s final edition was at once mournful and celebratory, appropriately, with highlights being Carol Smith’s excellent obit of the paper and Lewis Kamb’s fine “tick-tock” accounting of the final day in the newsroom, along with Curt Milton’s terrific video capturing staffers’ final thoughts, and a couple of nice photo galleries at both the P-I and Seattle Times sites.



Last night Michelle and I went to the paper’s unofficial bar in lower Queen Anne, Buckley’s, for a fun, drunken wake that was primed by loose change in the newsroom’s “Flower Fund” and replenished for hours, incredibly, by people around the country who heard about the party on Facebook or Twitter and phoned donations directly to the bartender. A couple hundred dollars worth, I heard.

Newspapers may die, the economy may tank, but generosity abounds ... or at least appreciation of a good excuse to throw a few back.

There was an undercurrent of tension at Buckley’s last night as, I understand, there has been at the P-I these past couple of weeks. Not just the bad feelings about the paper’s demise, I mean, but mixed feelings about its future. The P-I is not going away completely. As widely reported -- even in the lead spot on the New York Times site last night -- a small, online-only operation will survive, led by Michelle. That’s good for us personally (it’s nice to have one income between us) and for the couple dozen people who will join her in the new venture. I also believe it’s good for journalism. As newspapers struggle to stay afloat and new news models pop up, all eyes will be on SeattlePI.com to see if it can figure out how to commit journalism and make money at the same time.

But there’s a palpable backwash of resentment too among those 150 or so P-I journalists not staying on board for the next phase. Some of the online staffers, already suffering survivor’s guilt, told me they’ve been guilt-tripped further by former colleagues for accepting less pay to remain with the new venture while others were passed over. “I got the full ‘Norma Rae’ treatment,” one said.

A friend of ours, political reporter Angela Galloway, was quoted this morning describing the feeling last week when online execs trolled through the newsroom asking to speak to certain staffers about joining the new crew.

"Waiting for them to come out and pull in their latest hire was like sitting through a game of Duck, Duck, Goose," Angela said.

I saw a photo online this morning that also suggested some doubts about an online-only model: Thomas Jefferson’s famous quote about newspapers, as painted on a P-I newsroom wall, with a little jab at the new model tacked on.

"Were it left to me to decide whether we should have a government without newspapers, or newspapers without a government, I should not hesitate a moment to prefer the latter," Jefferson said. Added, on printer paper: "Or at least on online version with a greatly reduced staff and lots of links."

Isolated misgivings notwithstanding, I think most of the old P-I gang wishes the new venture well. Even some who are talking about starting a news site of their own -- which they initially viewed as competition for the P-I -- are now coming around to the smart (I think) realization that two (or more) sites could complement and help one another.

Meanwhile, it’s been kind of fun for me to watch Michelle become an online news rock star. She was all over the Internet yesterday and in publications from The Stranger to the New York Times. One Twitterer, relaying a link to her description of the new online P-I, referred to “Nicolosi’s St. Crispin’s Day speech.” As a fan of Henry V -- the play, not necessarily the king -- I thought that was cool.

I feel bad for all my friends at the P-I, and for the loss of the paper itself. I loved working there and made many enduring friendships. I’m forever indebted to the now former managing editor, David McCumber, who has become a good friend and who wrote this sweetly sentimental departing column, for taking a chance and hiring me and Michelle five years ago, getting us back to Seattle from Los Angeles. He made a tremendous difference in my life.

Given the scrappy and positive outlook of my colleagues at the paper I have every confidence they’ll emerge from this sad day with exciting new professional or personal ventures.

There’s a lot of good will in this town just waiting for them. Last night, after the Buckley’s fest, I dropped Michelle off at the P-I to pick up her car. We were accosted at the garage by a middle-aged couple who said they just stopped by -- this was 11 o’clock -- to pay their respects.

They left this little shrine to the P-I.




Here are a couple more links from today's coverage:

Seattle P-I through the years (Seattle Times photo gallery)
Vintage covers from the Seattle Post-Intelligencer (Seattle Times photo gallery)
Under the Needle: P-I had a cast of characters, with storied histories, by Mike Lewis
Last day at the P-I (P-I gallery)

Photo credit: Spinning globe, top, by Flickr user Helpcraft
Franny and Gina from another era, 2005, in my P-I office.

Why I don't drive in the snow

I telecommuted to work Thursday and Friday, and here's why:



I saw this video last year, and man, has it ever stuck with me. Snow driving is crazy! Even when you think it's going to be normal, because the roads are cleared and blah blah, what have you, you never know when -- blammo -- you're going to be the one hitting that weird patch and -- slammo -- you're driving like one of these guys. I've only tried driving in the snow twice, and both times had horrible close calls. Scary yo. Not. Gonna. Do it.

It's been hard to run a rapidly moving story from home though, so I'm going to try to get into work on the bus tomorrow. More later.

Dorky words I use now that I'm a dork Internet manager

Soon after I left newspapers for online lo these many years ago, I noticed that the online people love to use ridiculous words to talk about ordinary things.

I'm trying to remember now what word it was the marketing lady at HomePage.com was always using -- I couldn't stop rolling my eyes at her.

But now, nearly a decade later, I'm using silly words left and right. At first, I used them to make fun of people. Then, I used them ironically. Then, I'd use them and think, hey, I just used that word -- not ironically. I'm a dufus just like that marketing lady.

Now, I just use them, and hardly even notice. The transformation is complete.

I can't remember if I've posted this before -- maybe so. But tonight I was thinking again what a silly talker I've become. And so, I thought I'd slap a few of my silly words together for your pleasure today:

1. Robust. As in "We need to create a robust user experience." Wouldn't good suffice here? I don't know. My mouth keeps saying robust. This was the word that was making me realize today what a silly talker I am.

2. UI. This isn't really a word, but I use it like it is. As in "that lady has bad UI." (as in, user interface.)

3. Effort. As in "We're going to effort that photo." If you say effort, then later, when you don't end up getting the photo, you're not in as bad of trouble as you would be if you had said you were going to get it, right? I got this from the news meetings at the PI. I really hate myself when I say this one. I mostly am able to stop myself.

4. Monetize. As in "we'll never monetize that!" (make money off it. Yeah. I know.)

5. Deploy. "We'll deploy that by March." Uh, yeah. Publish. Post. What have you.

6. Iterate. "We'll launch and then iterate." Um. Modify.

7. UGC. Yeah, I said it. User generated content. Stuff the readers posted.

8. Uniques. That's what we call readers now.

9. ROI. This is my personal ROLF.

10. Optimize. 'That person isn't really optimized." (Being put to highest and best use.)

Got some dorky terms you personally use? Let's hear 'em. Janice, let's get some good lawyer terms in here. Val -- I'll go for either techie or fly boy terms -- both if you got 'em.

Jessica update!

After my big weekend of Jessica Simpson reporting last week, here's what finally made the pages -- at least the web pages -- of Us Weekly:

Madonna's soon-to-be ex-husband Guy Ritchie wants serious cash. "Guy is going after money now," a source told Us. "He wants to be paid back for these ridiculous expenses he had to help pay for."

Plus, Jessica Simpson couldn't resist gushing about her boyfriend Tony Romo at a packed casino gig in Seattle. "I just got off the phone with my boyfriend!" she gushed. "He's at home in my bed right now. I hope he's not going through my journals! But everyone knows what kind of girl I am. He should know what went on in the past!"

Watch above for details on Kate Walsh's fried-food diet, why Jennifer Aniston won't sleep at John Mayer's house and inside scoop on Anne Hathaway's low-key new love.

I wrote a lot more than that. Let that be a lesson to me.

The one explains the other

[Dear readers, This is a re-post of an item that appeared here Saturday. I took it down at the request of an editor, mentioned below, who didn't want to tip off her competition before their deadlines, today. -- Mark]

I've now done the top two things I never thought I would in my life: get a lobotomy*, and pay $200 to see Jessica Simpson.

Longtime M&M readers already know about the brain surgery, but the Jessica Simpson episode may come as a surprise. I know it did to me.

To back up briefly, it's been two years now since I last worked for a living. The break was good for my health, but what with the eventual boredom and lack of purpose -- not to mention the expiring health insurance and the threatened end to my disability payments -- I've been casting about lately for some paying work. My timing's a bit off. As we know, it's a tough time in the ol' news business. A couple of nearby newspaper gigs that I thought would have been a natural fit didn't generate so much as a return phone call.

But I've nevertheless managed to snag some offers. For work, that is, just not for pay. Of the four recent opportunities that have come my way, one would have paid $200 a week for full-time employment. The other three would have paid nothing but the joy of seeing my name in pixels. I tried to be polite as I declined the generous terms of those proposals. (Sorry to the regular M&M readers on the other end of those conversations if I didn't come across that way.)

So, when my email inbox dinged the other day with an inquiry from an old colleague in Los Angeles I was ready to consider most anything.

"Hey Mister," said my friend Martha, "you know anyone who would be interested in doing a little reporting for me in Snoqualmie Casino, Snoqualmie, Washington? Jessica Simpson is performing."

That rang a bell. The Snoqualmie is the new, long-awaited tribal casino located 30 miles east of Seattle, just a smidge closer than my standby the Muckleshoot, and its grand opening was Thursday night. Simpson was headlining the venue's inaugural concert on Friday night. I'm not much of a Jessica fan, I told Martha, but I'm a total casino whore and planned on checking out the place anyway, so bring on the details.

Martha and I worked together at the LA Times, but she has since moved on to Us Weekly magazine, where she is West Coast news editor. As a celebrity-focused mag, she said, Us Weekly was not much concerned with the casino or even the performance and instead interested primarily in the latest Jessica "news": Was her boyfriend Tony Romo, the Dallas Cowboys quarterback, traveling with her and was there any talk of marriage? Stuff like that.

No, it wasn't blogging about the election, or becoming a local media critic, or covering the environment or technology, or reviewing books or writing snarky, misanthropic essays for a startup publication. But it was a paying gig -- at many times the rate of my best previous offer -- and it included mileage to the casino. Deal me in.

And so I found myself offering up my credit card for a ticket to the big show (on the promise that Us would reimburse). I've attended a lot of concerts and seen a lot of big acts in a lot of top-tier venues, but I can't remember paying anything near the $175 they were charging for Jessica's casino show (plus a $23 Ticketmaster surcharge). But pay I did, withstanding a lot of strange looks from box-office workers, ushers and fellow audience members as a single ticket holder, a middle-aged man, sitting alone, to watch this pop-music screamer turned reality-show star turned tabloid fodder turned, now, country-music screamer.

Honestly I didn't know even that much about Jessica Simpson before a long day online reading about her, listening to her music and watching videos in preparation for my assignment. What a story! Always something new! The Nick romance, marriage and divorce. The brief John romance. The dad/manager influence. The sister angle. The new Tony romance. The paparazzi clashes. The best friend/hairstylist who got whacked in the face last week protecting Jess from photographers. And this is only one celebrity. You can see why entire magazines spring up to cover this stuff.

It seemed the only consistencies in Jessica's career were her bouncy blond locks and her ability to keep her name in the press. Plus she can rock a low-cut shirt.

Anyway, Jessica didn't disappoint. She scream/sang, she talked about her love life, she spilled provocatively out of her black sequined top. She even ditzed out, in character, forgetting the words to one of her own biggest hits. [I took the above illegal concert pic with my iPhone; for a professional's view see the P-I's fine concert photo gallery.]

I wrote it all down and emailed it off, with passages like this: "Tony does not have to prove anything," Jessica said. "He's amazing."

My editor Martha responded right away: "Hey Mark, you are a natural!"

So that's one thing. I mentioned the lobotomy*, right?

[* Editor's note: Michelle informs me that technically I did not get a lobotomy but a partial resection of the right frontal lobe. Close enough if you ask me, but whatever. For precision's sake, please read this as "brainectomy."]

JOA bowling night

Last night Michelle and I met my good friend Jim Simon for dinner, beers and some good old-fashioned newspaper war gamesmanship at the Garage, Seattle's retro-cool hipster pool hall and bowling alley. Jim is city editor at the Seattle Times.

I forgot to take a picture of the nice lanes, but maybe Michelle will upload one later.

One thing I noticed: Wii bowling is much easier than real bowling.

Between gutter balls I heard Michelle and Jim cooking up some antitrust-breaking scheme to save Seattle journalism. They got as far as agreeing that one paper should continue publishing in the morning and the other should be distributed free in the afternoon, but I don't think they ever decided which was which.

Settle the whole JOA thing with three lines of bowling and a best of seven 9-Ball tournament, and I like the P-I's chances.

We couldn't catch a flight to Rome ...

... so my friend Carol Pucci and I settled for a nice lunch in Seattle's Belltown neighborhood at La Vita e Bella, the cool little Sicilian place where Michelle and McCumber and Mich and I all have enjoyed numerous great meals.


Carol and I decided to get together when she joined Facebook recently and we "friended" each other there. In real life we've been friends for more than 20 years, since I started working at the Seattle Times, although we haven't seen each other in ages. Carol's Facebook profile had a photo of her and some friends at a little restaurant that I thought I recognized from Italy. Sure enough, she confirmed, the restaurant was Orso, in Rome. It wasn't the place I was thinking of, where Michelle and I dined near the Spanish Steps, but it might have been the spot Kaye recommended -- renowned for its antipasti -- and it's located very close to where Michelle and I stayed on our recent trip.

Anyway, when Carol and I set up our lunch date we joked about meeting at Orso. I'll buy lunch, I said, if she picked up the cab fare. In the end, we were happy to meet yesterday at La Vita.

It was really nice to reconnect. When Carol and I worked together she was the Times business editor -- Mich's boss, in fact -- but she has since moved to what she must get tired of hearing is the greatest job in Seattle journalism. She's the Times' travel writer. For "work" she trots the globe meeting cool people, eating great meals and writing stories.

We talked about travel and work and our lives, and when I mentioned Michelle she said, "Hey, I've been to the town of Nicolosi!" Here and here are stories she wrote from there.

Carol loved it in Nicolosi, and all of Sicily, and encouraged us to go. One of these days.

Streeter

With apologies for the poor photo above, one of the highlights of last week was our dinner Wednesday night with Kurt Streeter, on the right, along with his cool mom Kathy, on the left and, next to Michelle, Kurt's wife Vanashree and our mutual friend Athima.

Kurt and I worked together in Los Angeles and he was one of my favorite reporters: curious, enterprising, incredibly hard-working and always striving to improve. But his best quality, as a reporter and a person, is his huge heart; he's just a great, great guy, one you feel lucky to count as a friend. Kurt grew up in Seattle, so we had the city as a common background, and his parents met at the University of Oregon, a second link. In fact, they had some celebrity there: Mel was a star basketball player for the Ducks -- the fourth African-American ever to play there, and one of only six black on campus at the time -- and he and Kathy were one of the first interracial couples to marry in Oregon.

Kurt grew up as a tennis prodigy, winning a Seattle City Champsionship and many junior events before becoming captain of the University of California tennis team and later turning pro. At one point as a junior he roomed with Andre Agassi at tennis camp. Read about that here.

When we worked together at the LA Times, Kurt was a beat reporter covering Metro, the public transportation system. He did a fine job, and also began spending "off hours" reporting an off-his-beat story that interested him, a feature about a young girl who was a boxer. Long after I left the paper, Kurt wrapped up his sidelight reporting and turned the story into a five-part series, "The Girl," that was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize. Largely based on that, Kurt landed what he calls a dream gig, as a sports columnist for the Times. He's very good.

Anyway, after our very enjoyable dinner at Bizzaro, an Italian place we'd never been in Seattle's Wallingford neighborhood, Kurt and I squabbled a little over the bill. He thought Michelle and I were contributing too much (we weren't), so I told him he could make up the difference by giving me three tennis tips.

Here's what he said:

* "First, read 'The Inner Game of Tennis,'" by Timothy Gallwey.

* "Try to finish," he said. Follow through. Don't check your swing.

* "Definitely keep your eye on the ball."

* "Stay centered and upright. Stay loose. Don't get all hunched over."

OK, great. I even got a bonus suggestion or two. And lord knows my still-unresuscitated game could use the help. So I went online and looked up the Gallwey book. I hadn't heard of it, but apparently this is a classic sports-psychology sermon, from 1972, and I'm sure it's useful for good tennis players.

"The problems which most perplex tennis players are not those dealing with the proper way to swing a racket," the book begins. "The most common complaint of sportsmen ringing down the corridors of the ages is, 'It's not that I don't know what to do, it's that I don't do what I know!'"

Well, actually, that's not the problem that most perplexes me. I'm still dealing with the proper way to swing the racket.

Until the next time I see Kurt, I'm keeping my eye open for "The Outer Game of Tennis."

Ennui and The Bread Lady

What is the meaning of life? What if I die here? Why am I soft in the middle when life is so hard?

So, I'm standing in line at the local bread and sandwich restaurant chain in Jacksonville, Fla, when the server lady comes to me and gives me -- not the welcoming faux smile I'm expecting -- a bitter glare.

I reply with a look of befuddlement, and she happily provides the details.

"Some people," she says.

"Oh?" I say.

"We get the worst customers in here."

All I want, really, is a bear claw. Mark's waiting for me at the Starbucks on the other end of the strip mall, and I haven't had my first sip of coffee for the day.

"I give this lady her tea," the fiftyish woman informs, "and she says to me -- god -- she says 'Is this green tea?'"

I wait.

"The tea is GREEN," the lady says. "I mean, God, what else would it be? Of course it's GREEN tea!"

Ah. I smoothly segue into my need of a bear claw and she nods and obliges. I ask her how long she's been working at the bread place.

"Three years!" she says. "Too long!"

"I was a waitress for five years," I commiserate while she serves it up. "It can get on your nerves."

She tells me she spent hours last night online trying to get into AT&T's online job center but couldn't get in.

"I gotta get out of here," she says.

"You should," I agree. "Good luck with that."

And I walk out with my bear claw, free of all those things. Reminded once again that I have a great job, that I'm not at my job, that I'm so lucky to be drifting from place to place with no deadlines, no place to be, no generic bread place, no AT&T.

Poor bread lady. Lucky, lucky me.

Announcing: MySeattlePets

The behind the scenes beta for myseattlepets is live -- this is the new section we're hoping will bring mondo new traffic to Seattlepi.com. We've been working on it for 3 months or so. I know most M&M readers aren't in Seattle -- but if you feel the urge, go ahead and add your pups anyways. :)

At the moment everything's done but the front page. In phase II we're adding a database of pets looking for homes. What do you think? Is the top of the page too dark? I've been thinking for months that the black is too much, but I let myself be talked out of it. Should I have stuck my landing, or is this okay?

Thanks in advance for your reviews!

Preliminary Seattle Times departure list

Here is the first list of news staffers who apparently are going to lose their jobs as part of the Seattle Times cuts announced this week (the full staff memo from Executive Editor David Boardman follows):

Ashley Bach, Eastside reporter
Diane Brooks, Snohomish County reporter
Jordan Dawson, lead news assistant
Rachel Dooley
Sherry Grindeland, Eastside columnist
Judy Groom, resale and permissions specialist
William Holden
Karen Johnson, reporter
Janica Lockhart, copy editor resident
Stephen Norris
Amy Roe, Eastside reporter
Christina Siderius
CeCe Sullivan, home economist
Lynn Thompson, Eastside reporter
Lauren Vane, reporter
Diane Wright, Snohomish County reporter

Although news reports said 30 people in the newsroom would be laid off (along with 19 job openings that won't be filled, all part of 200 positions lost in all departments of the paper), this list includes 16 people. Others may come from targeted buyouts. And the list isn't final, since it's possible that some here will be able to exercise an option under the Guild contract to move to a different position. We'll try to keep the list updated.

M&M wishes to extend our sympathy and best wishes to these journalists, their families and their colleagues.

Here is Boardman's April 8 memo to the news staff:

Here, as we discussed in today's staff meeting, are the people and positions directly affected by today's announcement of a Reduction in Force. As we explained, the first list is people who have been informed that they will be laid off because their job functions are being reduced or eliminated. They are:

Ashley Bach, Diane Brooks, Jordan Dawson, Rachel Dooley, Sherry Grindeland, Judy Groom, William Holden, Karen Johnson, Janica Lockhart, Stephen Norris, Amy Roe, Christina Siderius, CeCe Sullivan, Lynn Thompson, Lauren Vane, Diane Wright.

The second list is positions that we designated for possible layoff in our required communication to the Guild. However, this list may bear little resemblance to the ultimate reality. Each of the people in these positions has been advised as to his/her likely vulnerability of layoff.

Those positions are:

Desk Editor (4), Reporter (4), Photographer, Lead News Assistant, News Resident, News Page Designer (2), Editorial Cartoonist.

Depending on the number of accepted Expressions of Interest we get from people willing to leave voluntarily, the least senior people in these categories may or may not lose their jobs involuntarily. We will know that next week.

Again, please be respectful and sensitive to the people who are losing their jobs and those whose jobs are at risk.

If you have questions about the Expression of Interest process or package, please see Suki, Kathy, Pat or me.

Earlier on M&M:
Wanted: Seattle Times Departure list
Saving the Enemy

Wanted: Seattle Times departure list

Since the Seattle Times announced on Monday that it would be cutting 200 jobs, including laying off 30 people in the newsroom, no official list of names has surfaced, even though I believe those being let go have been informed.

I don't have such a list myself, official or unofficial, but we know that the suburban bureaus are closing, with most of those employees being axed en masse, and that a couple of people in distinct job categories at the main office are losing their jobs as well.

The reason for this pattern, from what I can determine, is that reporters are represented by the Pacific Northwest Newspaper Guild, and union rules require that staffers be laid off according to seniority. Except that those seniority rankings apply within specific job categories, and not all employees, or even all reporters, are created equal. The suburban bureau reporters, for example, are in a different class than other reporters in the main newsroom, so it's possible -- even easier, in some ways -- for the management to strike that entire group than to retroactively "unhire" people newsroom-wide on a last-in, first-out basis.

The result is that some very senior reporters, like Diane Brooks, a 22-year veteran (all 22 years, unfortunately for her, in the bureaus) are getting the sack, while some newer (and also excellent) hires like investigator Ken Armstrong are safe.

I'm expressing no opinion on these layoffs, except my deep sympathy for those affected and my wish for them that better days are ahead.

I'd like to post the names here of those who are losing their jobs, not to embarrass anybody or to dog the Times, but as a tribute to their work over the years and a farewell, for now, to their bylines.

Readers, Times friends, Guild reps: If you can confirm names for this list or correct any mistakes, please let me know.

Thank you.

Saving the enemy

Well, OK, the Seattle Times isn't exactly my enemy, only the main competitor of my last paper, the P-I. And I'm not exactly saving it. But I did agree -- not foolishly, I hope -- to take part in an online discussion at Crosscut on the topic "How to turn around the Seattle Times."

Chuck Taylor, my friend and the editor of Crosscut, asked a large group of former Times reporters and editors to join him in the virtual roundtable following the news this week that the paper is cutting 200 jobs, including 30 layoffs in the newsroom.

Chuck began by laying out a somewhat radical view of what the Times should do, including giving away the paper for free at newsstands and raising the home subscription price "until it's cheaper for people to buy and own an iPhone." Then my old colleague Peter Lewis chimed in with a few ideas, and last night I added some thoughts too. So far, with the exception of a meager comment thread from readers, that's the extent of the discussion. You can read it here if you're interested.

I had some trepidation about offering what could be construed as advice to the Times, having last worked at the P-I and holding out some hope of returning there. (Not that the Times would listen anyway or, for that matter, that I came up with anything particularly novel.) Anyway, I hope my former bosses aren't offended.

Meanwhile, in clicking around this morning I ran across this funny cartoon by Rob Tornoe at a new site called PolitickerWA.com.


PolitickerWA, about a month old now, is part of a growing national network of "Politicker" sites. In fact, I read just yesterday about PolitickerCA at LAObserved, one of my favorite sites, and looked to see if there was a WA version. Sure enough. Its managing editor is James Pindell, whose bio lists political reporting, editing and blogging gigs at several web sites and papers including the Boston Globe.

So far the content is a bit thin but it looks promising. The more sources for this kind of information the better, and I wish this enterprise well.

(Cartoon used by permission)

News news, good and bad

Strange day in the news biz yesterday. On what's normally a day of journalistic celebration, announcement of the year's Pulitzer Prizes, the Los Angeles Times formally retracted it's horribly flawed Tupac Shakur story of last month.

As was alleged earlier and then confirmed by the Times' own investigation of its own investigation, the paper was duped by some phony documents -- provided by a known con man, in prison no less. It's a terrible black eye for the paper I love, and I feel bad for the new editor Russ Stanton, a guy I know and like and who I hate to see having such trouble so soon after taking over.

Locally, the Seattle Times announced yesterday that previous budget cuts, a hiring freeze and even property sales wouldn't be enough: The paper is whacking about 200 jobs, including layoffs to come in the newsroom. It had to be a tough day over there at Fairview and John yesterday, and I can't imagine the mood was much better for my friends at the P-I. Is this a preview of what's to come there too?

The coolest Pulitzer announced yesterday was an honorary prize awarded to my hero, Bob Dylan, for his ''profound impact on popular music and American culture, marked by lyrical compositions of extraordinary poetic power.''

Curiously, I didn't see much news coverage singling out Dylan's award. I did like this quote, in an AP story, by David Lang, the classical composer who won the Pulitzer for music. ''Bob Dylan is the most frequently played artist in my household so the idea that I am honored at the same time as Bob Dylan, that is humbling,'' Lang told the AP.

And, coincidentally it seems, the LAT has this nice piece today about a new compilation CD of music drawn from Dylan's XM radio program.

God's plan for Ellen Craswell

It may have included a folding machine, as she loved to say, but apparently God's plan for Ellen Craswell didn't include a political comeback election as governor or, sadly, the opportunity to beat cancer a third time.

My friend David Postman, author of the excellent Seattle Times blog Postman on Politics, emailed this morning to let me know that Craswell died over the weekend (here's the Kitsap Sun obit). He knew I'd want to know, and I appreciated the note.

Craswell, pictured in a Seattle Times photo, isn't someone you'd automatically assume was my type. She was an old (75 when she died on Saturday), very conservative, very religious retired politician without much humor or even common cultural references. She didn't see movies or watch TV, and didn't read much of anything except the Bible. In her political career she wanted more religion in schools, softer laws against child abuse and, most famously, castration for sex offenders -- views that I, as a voter, probably wouldn't support. Yet I considered her an exceptionally warm person, a terrific journalistic subject and, finally, a sort of long-distance friend.

I covered Craswell for years when I was a statehouse reporter for the Seattle Times, but really got to know her in late 1994 and early 1995 as I wrote a feature about her for the Times' Sunday magazine. She had decided to run for governor and was considered a fringe candidate and sure loser. But this was at a time when I was most plugged into the state's politics and, although the election was two years away, I could see a path for her to the Republican nomination. I decided to do the magazine piece, which turned out to be one my favorites of my own stories, and it also turned out to be pretty prescient: She did navigate her way through a large Republican field to win the nomination, although she was easily defeated by Democrat Gary Locke in the 1996 general election.

Anyway, like a lot of people, as I got to know Ellen I was totally disarmed by her sincerity and her lack of pretension. I've known a lot of politicians and a lot of religious zealots and I have to say that, whatever one may think of her beliefs, she was the most honest of the lot. There wasn't an ounce of charlatan in her. She didn't even have the good sense -- or the trickster ability -- to soft-pedal her wackier ideas when a reporter was following her around with a notebook and tape recorder.

As I wrote in the story, Craswell believed that God had a plan for everything: the world, the country, the state, her. She found evidence in the smallest things; when she needed a folding machine to continue producing her religious-right newsletter and then got one, she believed that it was literally a miracle. Her job, she said, was to try her best to understand God's plan and then to let him work it through her.

She didn't win the election, but that's OK, she said, that was part of God's plan too. Later, when she got cancer and I visited with her in the hospital, she saw the illness as some vital part of God's plan, even if it was one she couldn't understand. Twice the cancer went away and came back before claiming her on Saturday.

My honest, journalistically unobjective opinion is that it's probably best that Ellen Craswell wasn't elected governor. And getting to know her never sent me back to church, if that was part of the plan. But I liked her a lot and I'm glad I got to know her.

My thoughts today are with Ellen's husband Bruce, her son Jim, who I met, and the rest of her large family of children and grandchildren.

And the Pulitzer goes to ...

Unlike the Oscars, there's no big buildup to the announcement of the Pulitzer Prizes for journalism, with lists of nominees and debates about the most deserving nominees. Not officially anyway.

Traditionally the prizes are awarded at a New York luncheon in the spring, about a month after the early April announcement of the winners but otherwise with no previous disclosure of which pieces or publications are in the running. For the past couple of decades, though, thanks to leaks from Pulitzer jurors, journalists around the country have had a pretty good idea of what has been nominated. That has allowed the familiar newsroom tableau of reporters and editors huddling around computer screens, hitting refresh on a list of wire stories until official word appears. Among other things, I expect such leaks allowed Michelle's bosses to have champagne at the ready when she won her Pulitzer back in the day.

This year's announcement of winners is tomorrow, but this time the buzz is significantly diminished. As Poynter Online describes in an interesting piece by Roy Harris, who has a new book about the Pulitzers, inside sources on the prizes are all drying up. For example, Editor & Publisher magazine has taken pride over the years in breaking the secret list of nominees, but this year, according to Harris, it has cracked only four of the 14 categories.

Dave Boardman, the Seattle Times editor who has been on the judging and receiving ends of the Pulitzer process, figures prominently in the Poynter story, and it turns out Boardman still harbors much bitterness about a 2002 Times investigation that was nominated for a prize but didn't win. That episode, in fact, is said to figure prominently in the clamming up of jurors.

Harris' piece is a good look inside this process.

Langston on assignment

Triple treat this morning: I walked up to my current favorite West Seattle hang, Bakery Nouveau, to meet P-I reporter Jennifer Langston for an almond croissant and cappuccino.

These dudes know how to make a croissant. In fact everything I've had from this bakery is excellent; Michelle and I are baguette regulars. Even the coffee's good.

It was really nice to catch up with Langston, who gets my vote for best all-around reporter and writer in the P-I newsroom. I had some hits and misses in my time as metro editor there, but the one thing I know I got right was spotting Jennifer's talent (going ... well, not wasted exactly, but underutilized) in the paper's north-suburban bureau and moving her into a vital beat that we created together: Seattle-area growth and development.

She totally rocked in the gig until ducking out on a one-year leave with her husband, Seattle Times reporter Craig Welch, who won a Harvard Nieman Fellowship for the 2006-07 academic year. Jen had a dream opportunity as Craig's tag-along: She was able to audit any class at Harvard, as he was, but without the fellows' thesis requirements. Craig's now on leave writing a book, and Jennifer's back at the P-I working as a general assignment reporter.

Anyway, she was going to be in West Seattle this morning for a story, so we agreed to meet over coffee. She talked about what she's been up to lately, I talked about our upcoming road trip -- she was encouraging about the book idea I've kicked around -- and we chatted about the news biz and how much we enjoyed working together (true, I think, for both of us).

When I start my 5 Guys and a Mac newspaper, you can bet Jen will be in the crew.

Don't you know who I am?!

One of the regulars at the Muckleshoot Casino, where I like to play cards, is a 60-ish character named Barry, a nice guy and a decent player who through some physical and personality peculiarities stands out even in this large room of outsize degenerates.

Because of some kind of stroke or disease, I've never been sure which, Barry walks with a severe limp and can't fully open his hands (he needs help stacking his chips, which he gathers from the pot just a little too often to suit me), and he talks in a loud, nasally and slurred voice. He's a tireless flirt, often exacting a bonus kiss on the cheek from the cute young chip runners who help him stack his winnings, and his drinking habits are so regular and well known that precisely at 5 p.m. every day, Darla or Cheryl or Anna will wander over to his table and say, "It's 5 o'clock, Barry, are you ready for your martini?"

My kinda guy, in other words.

When Barry's in a pot it can be hard to put him on a hand. He plays a solid game and when he bets or raises it usually means he's got the goods. In fact he milks this image, with an expression that has become a standard Muck joke. If Barry bets or raises and then gets reraised by another player he'll stare down the competitor and then exclaim in his loud, funny-talking voice:

"Don't you know who I am?!"

The thing is, Barry doesn't always have what he's representing. He bluffs just often enough -- probably intimidating some players with his famous speech -- that he gets paid off with his big hands. That's what makes him a winning small-stakes player.

By this point most of us have heard Barry's signature line so often that sometimes we'll use it too. Sometimes you'll hear, from across the room, Barry's booming "Don't you know who I am?" and everyone in the place will laugh. Sometimes when I call Barry's bet I beat him to the punch: "I'm only calling, Barry, because I know who you are."

One day I was sitting next to him and Barry asked me what I was listening to on my iPod. He told me he owns a record store -- Sound Sounds, I thought he said -- and we chatted about music. I took the store's name to be a clever play off the Puget Sound, and Barry's little custom-made card protector, a half-dollar-size piece of coral encased in acrylic, seemed to fit the store's name. (It reminds me of the above photo, although the pic actually is a sea urchin and comes from Picasa user John, a local photographer.)

So, Barry and I became friendly over the months. He told me about growing up in Los Angeles and starting his first record store there; I told him we used to live in Belmont Shore. I told him about working at newspapers up and down the West Coast. When Michelle and I watched "The Godfather" and the Moe Green character gave Pacino the ol' "Do you know who I am?" speech, I mentioned that to Barry and he got a big kick out of it.

Barry and Moe Green, don't mess with either of them.

A couple of weeks ago Barry asked me if I knew anybody in the P-I's business news department; he wanted to gauge interest in a story about his shop for the paper's weekly small-retail column. Yeah, I said, I used to be their stupid boss. Without promising him anything I gave him a couple of numbers and wished him luck.

So this morning I pick up the paper to find Barry staring up at me from the Biz front. It turns out his full name is Barry Reisman, that he has cerebral palsy and that his store is Soundsations, not Sound Sounds (which would be a better name, I think). It's a nice little puff piece. I'm sure it'll help his struggling business.

Meanwhile, in an only marginally related story, I was playing at the Muck one day last week and as I got up to leave a guy I've seen there for years, Rich, asked me if I knew someone named Michelle. Well, yeah, I said, I live with her.

"Oh, you live with her?" he said, kinda nervous-like.

Yeah, why? A lot of people there know Michelle and ask about her since she doesn't play as much as she used to.

Rich muttered something and tried to change the subject but I eventually got him to spill: Um, he said, it must be a different Michelle. The one I was thinking of lives with one guy but is dating another.

"It's not her," I said, trying to sound sure.

He must not know who I am.

MOMseattle -- SWEET

Dang, we pulled a two day turnaround on a new special section this week, with momseattle.com, which is launching tomorrow after a few more tweaks.

The Houston Chronicle gave us the template they designed, we copied a bunch of their ideas, hooked our forum system, photo upload system and everything else in and shabang! Instant Magazine.

It was a pretty cool project -- cool to see that you can move that fast.

We're announcing the launch tomorrow with this cute photo gallery of art done by the kids of P-I staffers.

Fun.

Here's one of the featured art works, done by the Dylan, my unofficial boyfriend, and the son of my boss David.



Just for kicks, here's a pix of Dylan and his sister. He's a cutie.

Nicolosi: One Writer's Journey

My friend Michelle Vranizen Rafter from way back in the Orange County Register days (1990-1999) asked me a couple of days ago if I'd answer some questions for her cool blog, Word Count.

I did, and she just posted it here.