Fifth Grade Writing

Yesterday afternoon Son2 came home from school and told me that his teacher had sent his book report home with him. She said some of his answers were too short, and he needed to expand his paragraphs. He said, "I answered the questions. I don't know what else to say."

First let me say that some of his answers were lacking. But others were simply short and to the point. Perhaps fifth grade is where people learn to blather on unnecessarily. Perhaps all fifth grade teachers out there believe they need to train the next generation of twenty-four hour cable newscasters. Keep talking, even if you have nothing to say.

I went to journalism school, and I confess to a certain obsession with the news. It's not a path I followed in my career, that whole thing about spending years writing obituaries kind of deterred me, but I feel a little crazy inside when I can't keep up with the news basics. I want the news when I want it, and the web is great for that. But cable news? Ugh.

CNN has introduced us to the horror of taking local news national. A five-car acccident is causing traffic on an LA freeway. A prisoner has escaped from a work detail in Texas. These are the headlines. I work at home and sometimes when my work is really dull or I'm just writing email I turn on the news to keep me company. Then I've been known to walk into my husband's office and announce the latest headlines with a voice of doom: "There is a fire at a nursing home in New Jersey! A fire! In a nursing home! In New Jersey! They'll keep us updated, but right now the fire appears to be under control."

This is what we're reduced to. Nothing about Africa, except perhaps that another celebrity has adopted a child from Ethiopia. Nothing about China, except those lead toys. No news about Europe unless it's about a princess who's been dead for ten years or her offspring or there's some unusually bad weather. But plenty of time to endlessly obsess about wildfires. California is burning! "I literally have soot on my clothes," announces the newscaster. "The sky is an eerie orange. I can smell the smoke." I guess those fifth grade writing teachers have really done their job.