At least he wasn't anonymous

I have written a weekly "slice-of-life" column in local newspapers for the past 15 years or so, with topics ranging from the excitement about the birth of my son to the trepidation I felt the first time that son got behind the wheel of a car. I write about what I know best -- being a dad of two teenage boys and the husband of a woman who has to put up with my corny sense of humor and my maddening habit of procrastination. I don't apologize for the content, because I hope that the stories I tell can relate in some small way to the lives of those who read it. Maybe one week I'll give a reader a laugh and maybe the next week I'll make them get choked up. Either way, I hope people will spend three to five minutes with the column, because that means they read the whole thing. I generally get positive feedback about what I write, perhaps because most people aren't bold enough to criticize me face-to-face -- unless they are a relative. It makes me happy when someone tells me they enjoyed my column. Last week, a reader took the time to hand write a two-sided note and mail it to my home. I'm not sure how he got my address, but I give him credit for including his return address on the envelope. Too many people these days hide behind the anonymity of online comments, so I can respect this man for identifying himself. His note, written in a fairly legible script with a few phrases highlighted in yellow for some reason, essentially was a dressing down of my column's approach. He wanted to advise me in a condescending way that my column, which is titled "Breen Damage" and features a picture of me, is too much about me. He wanted to tell me "something you have never learned in life," that I should "learn to get away from (my) self-centeredness and the number of I's and we's" in my articles. Zing. "It seems as though most of your articles are about the 'Breen' family," he continued, which is a fact seemed pretty obvious to me, since when I write about a slice of life, it's going to be about the Breens. The majority of people who read the paper, he said, "are not interested in the Breens" and "should best be kept for family use." Double-zing. He said there is so much more in our community to write about -- and he is right. He apparently doesn't read the two or three other articles I write each week as a reporter for The Pinnacle. I cover city government and education and environmental issues. I write features and captions and news briefs, none of which have to do with me or my family. "Get off your family and Breen kick," he advises. "Grow up." Wow, this guy is full of zingers. As brazen and denigrating as his letter is, I actually didn't mind receiving the criticism. Like anyone, I love getting praise for my work. But there is something energizing about being critiqued. It's a reminder that not everyone thinks I'm as witty or insightful as I might feel when I get a slap on the back from a faithful reader. It's a reminder not to get lazy or too full of myself. We all need to be humbled now and then. My wife wasn't as understanding about or appreciative of the letter; she wanted me to send him a letter of my own telling him that he was rude and "how dare he complain about an article in a free paper." It's OK, I told her. Though he may speak for others, I'm a big boy who can handle the zingers. Perhaps his criticism will remind me to branch out beyond my family when coming up with a column idea. It's called "Breen Damage" for a reason. I'm a Breen and I'm going to write about what happens to me and my family as long as the editors allow me to do so. Maybe one of my upcoming columns will win this guy over and I'll get another letter from him saying I've matured as a writer. Or maybe he'll continue to open up the free paper every Friday and curse my name. Bottom line is, newspapers want readers who care, and this guy clearly does. Like me or hate me, just don't stop reading me.

Bedell story brings the media

The town has been buzzing with media from around the region, the state and the nation since last night's news broke that the man who shot security personnel at the Pentagon was from Hollister. From KCBA television crews camped outside the gate at Ridgemark, the country club where John Patrick Bedell apparently lived, to the massive CNN satellite truck parked on Fourth Street near the county courthouse, our quiet town hasn't seen such media activity in some time. KGO of San Francisco called the Free Lance newsroom requesting an interview with the editor, KRON-4 from The City sent a truck down here, trying to find a place to park near the local media outlets. Sheriff Curtis Hill gave two press conferences: one at 12:30 and another at 3 to accommodate the East Coast media's 6 p.m. newscast needs. In the combined Free Lance/Pinnacle newsroom, the story had the staff scrambling since last night. From calls to sources to a visit by Bedell's brother, who dropped off a family statement, to research on the Internet, it was the kind of breaking news that just doesn't happen around here very much. Hollister typically is in the news for one of three things: earthquakes, bikers or some sort of tragedy, which, thankfully doesn't happen too often. The national media will move from the story over the next 24 hours, as that's how the news cycle runs. Locally, Hollister's newspapers will continue to follow the story as they prepare next week's editions, looking to dig a little deeper into the life and motivations of a troubled man that by all accounts came from a loving family.

'Staches for STAR

My column in this week's edition of The Pinnacle discusses a novel approach a San Benito High School English teacher came up with to raise awareness about the need for students to well on the standardized STAR test; by having teachers sport moustaches. The "Staches for STAR" campaign, the brainchild of Mario Ferrito, calls on all male faculty -- at least those who are able to -- to grow a moustache ahead of the STAR test in April. The thinking is that students will start wondering why teachers suddenly have moustaches and that will lead to discussions about the value of the STAR exam, which not only measures students learning but is one of the criteria the state uses to determine if a school is successful or not. Click here for a link to Ferrito's 'Staches for STAR homepage, which also has links to Facebook and Photo Bucket sites where the teacher moustaches can be viewed in all their glory. And, yes, female teachers are encouraged to participate. They don't have to stop waxing, though. Ferrito has a sign with a built-in moustache with which female teachers can pose for a photo. (drawing courtesy of A_of_Doom's Photostream at http://www.flickr.com/photos/a_of_doom/2923734341/)

Dancing for Diana

The effort to raise money for a San Benito High School freshman who is battling cancer has shown the value of new media, as a simple, 5-minute YouTube posting has generated tons of interest in the cause as it has generated thousands of hits. It went from class project, to buzz-worthy e-mail on campus to a report on local television. The students behind the movement were not looking for credit or praise. Instead, they just wanted people to know that a community member needs our help. I wrote about the effort in Friday's Pinnacle. As the students strive to raise thousands of dollars to help Diana Magana's family with the expenses associated with her cancer treatment, they have also raised awareness about the good work that high school students do -- without prompting -- because most of them really are creative, talented, caring kids. Help Diana if you can.

I want the real thing

It has become a running joke in my family that every time I decide to order a Coke at a restaurant the waiter or waitress says, "Is Pepsi alright?" In my younger, less discerning days, I would either say "that's fine" or "yeah, sure." As I've gotten older, however, I've realized that if I feel like drinking a Coke and ordering a Coke, I want a Coke. When I order orange juice, I don't want to hear, "Would apple juice be OK?" When I order a steak, don't tell me, "The chicken's really good tonight. Will that work?" In this week's column, I address my drink ordering issue in more depth. I also mention how my dad, being the nice guy that he is, prefers to reverse to server-servee roles and put the decision in the hand of the wait-person. If he wants a cola, he'll now ask for "Coke/Pepsi." If he's in the mood for a clear soda, the list gets longer. "Sprite/7Up/Sierra Mist." He gives the list and lets the waiter or waitress pick the beverage. It's ingenious, and a bit of a cop out at the same time. But hey, I'll drink to that. (photo courtesy of Orin Zebest's Photostream at http://www.flickr.com/photos/orinrobertjohn/1054035018/)

Teachers have reason to smile

As a part-time teacher and part-time journalist, I have a lot to balance. One day I’m teaching 100 students how to craft a story and the next day I’m trying to craft a story of my own for the weekly paper for which I write. Half my week is spent lecturing and grading papers while the other half is spent researching, interviewing and writing for The Pinnacle. It can be stressful, but it’s a good stress. I like the pressure and the deadlines of reporting. I like that I have to be creative to come up with stories every week. I also like the pressure and deadlines of being a high school teacher and newspaper/yearbook advisor. Not all of the kids are excited about journalism, but most of them like expressing themselves, so the challenge of melding those two tasks makes my job worth going to every other day. That’s why I wasn’t surprised to read that a Gallup survey released today showed that teachers registered the highest levels of well-being among 11 occupational groups – with business owners coming in a close second. The results, reported in the San Francisco Chronicle, showed that people with manufacturing or transportation jobs had the lowest level of contentment. Teachers posted a score of 71.7 out of 100 on the well-being scale, while manufacturing workers had a 60.6. Most of the teachers with which I work seem to really love what they do. Of course there are some who are in way over their head or who are just riding out the final years until retirement, but the vast majority enjoys imparting knowledge and interacting with teenagers, who are a challenging, frustrating, entertaining bunch. Journalists weren’t listed among the survey results, perhaps because of our dwindling numbers in the print world. Despite the low pay and deadline pressure, I consider myself lucky to be able to write for a newspaper, even though the industry is suffering.
Would I love to be making a lot of money? Of course I would – and I plan to some day. Until then, I’ll take the psychic income that my two part-time jobs pay. For me, well-being is worth more than being well paid. (photo courtesy of [etoile]'s Photostream at http://www.flickr.com/photos/jessicatam/4057782618/)

A cheesy promotion

The word first came down in a text from my wife at around 10 a.m. today: "Round Table Pizza 2day 11 a.m.-11 p.m. ... $2.26 lg pep or cheese pizza ... Should get one for boys dinner." Her friend had seen the ad in Friday's Pinnacle newspaper and mentioned it to my wife, who mentioned it to me, knowing that dinner was my responsibility tonight. By 11 a.m., the newspaper's advertising rep and a couple of callers to the newsroom were talking about a line snaking from Round Table's door, around the sidewalk and over toward the Hi Outlet -- maybe 100 people deep. At 2 o'clock I interviewed Round Table owner Mike Sicoli about the promotion, which, it turns out, was originally a company-wide plan to celebrate the chain's 50th anniversary. No all of the restaurants decided to take the financial hit and participate, but Mike and his wife, Allison, thought it would be a great way to spread a little Christmas cheer -- and some tomato sauce -- to thank the community for their support over the past 32 years. In those first three hours, 600 pizzas had been sold. At 8 p.m., I was still getting reports of a huge line outside of Round Table. Check out Friday's Pinnacle for the full story on the clever promotion. It was an expensive one, it seems, but it's nice to see a local business give thanks to a loyal customer base by giving them a crazy discount on a really good product. (photo courtesy of The Pizza Review's Photostream at http://www.flickr.com/photos/thepizzareview/2481188831/)

One degree of separation

Here's a snippet from my weekly column in The Pinnacle. For the entire text, click here.

Jack Frost doesn't just nip at my nose in the morning during the winter; he takes a full-on bite.
This week's freezing temperatures finally put me into winter mode, which inevitably leads to friendly heater battles with my wife. When I get home from work and it's as cold as it has been this week, I am fine with setting the heater at 65 degrees and getting the house relatively toasty.
I even throw some logs onto the fire and get the family room heated up so we can enjoy some family time in front of the television. So far, so good.
Then bedtime rolls around and I turn the thermostat down by one degree, to 64, figuring that we'll all be tucked warmly into bed and we can spare the extra degree and the extra expense associated with it.
If my wife gets out of bed before falling asleep and walks down the hall, it's safe to assume she'll bump the heater back up to 65. Since I usually stay up later than she does, I'll often make a second trip down the hall to push it back to 64. Wow, what a victory.
Since I also usually wake up first in the morning, I'll then bump the thermostat back to 65 because, again, that one degree really makes a huge difference, I tell myself. (see what happens next in The Pinnacle)

(Photo courtesy of EditorB's Photostream at http://www.flickr.com/photos/editor/2735370649/)

They dropped a bomb on us, baby

The three-quarter-page public notice in this week's edition of The Pinnacle sounded a bit ominous on first read, using words like "Bomb Target No. 5, Hollister," "unexploded ordnance," and "discarded military munitions." It turns out that some rural property east of Hollister off Santa Ana Valley Road was used by Navy pilots as a practice dive bombing target during World War II and the government is in the process of checking it out to see if any clean-up is needed. I knew that there was a Naval Auxiliary Air Station at the Hollister Airport during the war, but the practice dive bombing info was news to me. A spokesman for the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, which is coordinating the investigation, said the advertisement was meant to help the government gather more information about the bombing site, though it has already talked to current and former owners. In next week's Pinnacle, I'll report in more detail on the bombing runs from 65 years ago and explain what the next steps will be in the investigation of the site. My dad, who grew up in Hollister and was related to the then-property owners, recalled to me how some family members collected the practice bombs, which, fortunately, were inert -- usually filled with sand. Unfortunately -- or maybe fortunately -- those weren't kept as family heirlooms. Check the Nov. 13 issue of The Pinnacle for the full story. (image courtesy of ezioman's Photostream: http://www.flickr.com/photos/ezioman/)

Historic parks may really be history

Friday's edition of The Pinnacle reports the somber news that Fremont Peak and the San Juan Bautista State Historic Park are expected to be among the 100 or so parks forced to close because of the state's budget problems. As I write in this week's column: "The periodic Friday closure of the Hollister DMV has been inconvenient; the upcoming one-Wednesday-a-month closure of the San Benito County courts will slow the wheels of justice; but news of the potential closure of Fremont Peak and the San Juan Bautista State Historic Park is downright sad." The official news about specific park closures is expected to be released on Labor Day, which unfortunately will be Californians' last chance to enjoy some of our beloved parks before they are shuttered for who knows how long. The closure of Fremont Peak and the state historic park would be a double-blow for San Juan. My column references the impact park closures had on a small, touristy, San Juan-type town in Arizona. It foretells a scary scenario of lost revenue and diminished visitors. Let's hope there is a last-minute reprieve for our local state parks. It's a long shot, but we can hope. For a reminder of the value of the park, check out Tom Steinstra's recent story about Fremont Peak in the SF Chronicle.

Saturday's not alright for the library

As an update to a recent post, I learned today that the San Benito County Free Library is expected to soon stop offering Saturday hours as it tries to cope with a reduction in staffing mandated by a county-wide furlough edict. The irony is that the library is as strong and popular as ever, having added nearly 600 card holders this year and offering a place of refuge and resource to job-seekers and knowledge-seekers alike. Check out my story in this Friday's edition of The Pinnacle for the full story. Also in Friday's edition, I write about how the county courthouse will follow the state Judicial Council's mandate and close every third Wednesday of the month in order to deal with the state's budget crisis. Judge Steve Sanders says this means that a few unfortunate arrestees will likely spend an extra day in jail instead of having a preliminary hearing that could have bailed them out of jail or set bail.

Yosemite offers the bear necessities

Here is a sample of this week's column in the Friday edition of The Pinnacle. The full column is available online.

My sons discovered a new kind of theme park this week, one that despite never really adding new attractions still brings people back year after year.
It’s called Yosemite National Park – note how there is no corporate sponsor before the name; crazy concept.
The park is about two hours closer to my hometown of Hollister than is Disneyland and only costs $20 per car to enter – that’s $5 per person in my family. There is no mall outside of its gates and no fireworks show at night. And darn it if my teens still didn’t have fun.
My wife and I were anxious for our boys’ first reaction to seeing Yosemite Valley, which becomes visible as you turn one of the many road bends leading to the park. Our first glimpse of the massive granite slabs of El Capitan on the right and Half Dome in the distance drew an astonished, “Wow, that doesn’t look real,” from our oldest son and knowing smiles from his parents.
When we jumped out of the car at Inspiration Point, just past the end of a long tunnel (in which I had to honk, at the boys’ request), we stopped to capture the iconic photos of the valley – huge granite rock faces framing a dense forest canopy that from our vantage point conceals the tens of thousands of visitors who scurry around its floor.
In my car, we’re always on the lookout for wild animals. It’s one of those car games designed to keep the kids occupied during a long journey. As we wound our way through the mountains and down into the valley, we only saw birds and squirrels – nice, but nothing too exciting.
Once in the valley, that all changed.

(Read what happened next by clicking on this link.)

If teens are Superman, parents are their kryptonite

My weekly column in the July 17 issue of The Pinnacle newspaper discusses how my house now includes not one, but two, teenage boys. If you ask my wife, she'll say the number is actually three, if you factor me in. The story compares my boys to the dual personalities of Superman and Clark Kent. At home, I write, my 14-year-old is "in our own fortress of solitude; he is the mild-mannered Clark Kent. In public, my son is Superman, with his tough exterior (if not the Spandex tights and cape). Mom and Dad are kryptonite in certain situations; especially social situations like the movie theater" or local high school football game. Check out the latest installment of Breen Damage at http://www.pinnaclenews.com/life/contentview.asp?c=258955.