Caption Contest

This is the way it works: someone signs you up to receive The New Yorker. I know people who have received New Yorker subscriptions as a gift, but I've never met anyone who signed up for themselves. I am in the midst of a yearlong free ride myself, enjoying each weekly issue for its fiction, nonfiction, cartoons, and current events. The list of shows and clubs and other goings-on in New York at the beginning of each issue are of less importance. I live rather far away.

The back page of each issue is the Caption Contest.



Readers submit a caption, three are chosen to be voted upon, and then readers vote. The winner gets a framed print with their caption. Pretty decent. I decided at the start of the year that I would participate each and every week, in the hope that I would eventually win and have something to hang on my wall that I really didn't need. For the above cartoon, I thought my contribution was pretty good.

"Perhaps we should downsize the furniture as well."

But no, I didn't make the final cut. These are the three we got to vote on:

"Is that your foot?"
"Should I call and downsize our pizza order?"
"They're outside protesting, sir."

I forget which one I voted for. I only know I couldn't vote for my own because (yet again) mine wasn't chosen. Still I persist. The actual winner was "Is that your foot?" How disappointing.

By my recollection looking over the entire list of submissions, there were somewhere near 5000 entries. So, odds being what they are . . . well, you know. The odds are long.

This week's cartoon:



What would be your caption? (No, I don't want to steal yours, I already submitted mine! I'm just curious. Heck, go online and submit your own. Just tell me first!)

Newspaper Gods

Pity the last few people hired to work in the old Betamax factory. They thought they were starting the dream job of a lifetime only to have it fizzle within weeks. Also those folks building Edsels long ago. Sure, they might have gone on to work for another automobile manufacturer, but the disappointment must have been palpable.

Industries are born, grow, and some die. Some implode instantly while others dwindle over lengthy periods of time, as if they are on life support. They never actually revive, but they never entirely go away either. Witness the newspaper industry.

As a victim of cable TV, the Internet, and a general lack of interest among the American populace, the newspaper industry has been on its last legs for a long time. Its utter demise has been forecast for many years. Newspapers are going out of business, or merging with former competitors, or shrinking in size and distribution, or replacing reporters with items pulled from the Internet, or substituting advertisements for most articles. This has been going on for a few years now, which makes my entry into the newspaper world back in 2007 a spectacular bit of bad timing.

I started writing commentary pieces for Silicon Valley Community Newspapers just over four years ago. Once or twice a month they allow me to pontificate on whatever subject matter interests me, and they even pay me for the effort. Lately, though, my offerings take a while to come to print because of the restriction in number of pages in each issue. Sometimes the Op-Ed page is completely skipped over.

So it has been a while since I've had a piece in the paper. Fortunately, when I do, it is also available on the San Jose Mercury News web page. Here. This is my latest. Hopefully it isn't my last.

Looks like I picked the perfect time to be a newspaperman. I wonder if I can get a job at the old Betamax factory.