What Will Follow This Week’s Outlandish, Bizarre, Disturbing, Incomprehensible Tweet

By Edward M. Bury, APR (aka The PRDude)

It’s still early in the third week of October in the year 2019, and already a significant amount of news coverage and analysis is focused on the person who posted a tweet that compares a truly ghastly aspect of American history with a current Congressional investigation.

Read about it here, if you want to know what I’m referring to.  But, I think you do. And, I think you know the author of the tweet in question.

Please push out a tweet that offers a glimmer of hope for the future of the United States of America.

Speaking of questions:

What was the focus of last week’s outlandish, bizarre, disturbing and incomprehensible tweet from this person? I don’t recall. There probably were several similarly malicious tweets that sparked dialogue across all communication channels.

What will be the subject of tomorrow’s outlandish, bizarre, disturbing and incomprehensible tweet from this person?  Who knows. But assuredly, the media and so-called Twittersphere will chronicle the fallout.

Since the first tweet was sent in 2006, a seemingly modest way to send out seemingly innocuous, personal messages — first within a 180-character limit, then doubled to 360 characters — has evolved into a communications medium with the power to command the national and even global spotlight — often with messages of despair, deceit and destruction of the American way of life.

Think about it: What amounts to a couple of sentences can drive what’s deemed important and newsworthy.

That’s why I implore all who read this post to ignore the kind of calculated, often despicable tweets like the one reference here. Go to your laptop or handheld device and tweet out a positive message about our nation, its people and its stature on the world stage.

Perhaps more messages of positivism will overshadow those of unfounded negativity.

 

 

 

If Your Mother Says She Loves You, Check It Out

By Edward M. Bury, APR (aka The PRDude)

For those wondering about the title of this post, I’ll get to that shortly. But the crowd of current and former news men and women who gathered last night at a quirky downtown Chicago restaurant certainly know what the phrase embodies.

Long-time city editor Paul Zimbrakos (left) was still engaging, still in control, still a dominant presence as he was in the CNB news room.

The event was a reunion of reporters and editors who worked at the legendary City News Bureau of Chicago.  The adjective “legendary” gets tossed around a lot, but in this case it’s appropriate.

We gathered to help preserve the impact this now-gone local news wire service had on Chicago and the lives of those — like me — who had the opportunity to learn the hard news business in an environment that was always fascinating and hardly ever forgiving.

There were stories and memories recounted: The years worked at City News, surviving the midnight shift, how experience there led to the next job in the news business, and that seminal or most compelling story covered. The atmosphere was loud and embracing, with strangers becoming friends over a drink and conversation about the impact City News had on their lives.

A high-point came when Paul Zimbrakos, the long-time (and I mean decades-long)

The reunion at its zenith. The conversation flowed, the memories recalled.

city editor arrived. I waited my turn to greet Paul, who at first didn’t recognize me. After I gave my name, he noted without hesitation that I once called in sick due to a bee sting.  How did he remember that instance, which took place 40 years ago!  (For the record, I was stung in the neck by a wasp and swelled up like a side-show attraction.)

In conversations, I met people who moved on from City News to work in broadcast journalism and public affairs, or like me, leave the news business for public relations or another communications discipline.

I conversed over the din with one outstanding reporter who worked during my era — 1977 to 1979 — and we shared thoughts on our biggest, most memorable stories: His was going door-to-door in Bridgeport to get perspectives on the death in December of 1976 of Chicago Mayor Richard J. Daley, mine was covering the exhuming of bodies from the home of convicted mass murder John Wayne Gacy in December of 1978.

As I rode the Blue Line home later that night, I felt proud and honored to have been a small cog in the news organization that nurtured true journalism.  I look forward to the next reunion and the stories and memories they will bring.

Now, to the title. The message behind this phrase is simple and direct: Investigate, seek confirmation, gathering what’s believed to be the truth. If you don’t believe me, check it out.