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No News is New Haven News, to the Yale Daily News

I am endlessly fascinated by how the undergraduate student journalists at the Yale Daily News cover their university’s host city. It is as if, rather than full-time residents, they are tourists in town for a few days or hours and don’t have time to get a full grasp of their surroundings.

Granted, these are novice writers acclimating to the difficult craft of mainstream journalism, at a student paper with tight deadlines, at a school without a full-fledged Journalism program. But there’s a matter of perception here which is distinct from any journalistic abilities.

Only in the Yale press could the rock club Toad’s Place (which doesn’t serve food) and the steakhouse/bar Box 68 (which doesn’t book live music) be regularly debated as if these were equivalent choices for late-night fraternizing. (The only similarity appears to be access to liquor.)

In recent days, the Yale Daily News has:

• reported that 20 members of the Yale community attended a Master’s Tea featuring five notable mystery fiction writers, without noting that those same writers were all in town for a charity event that same evening, to be attended by hundreds of paying customers at the Shubert.

• described the New Haven Register, one of the oldest continuously published newspapers in the United States, merely as “a daily metro paper that covers New Haven and its suburbs,” not even awarding this centuries-old mainstay media outlet a “the” instead of an “a” in that dismissive description. The story notes that the Register “stopping printing its own paper in-house on March 4, 2012 (it is now sourced to the Hartford Courant location),” clearly confusing these rival entities as sister papers rather than as partners in a strictly-business arrangement which has one using the other’s press equipment. The New Haven Independent, meanwhile, which is run by a Yale alum, is mentioned twice in this Daily News article without apparently needing an introduction at all. The story’s headlined “New Haven Register to return to city,” as if the paper’s longtime Long Wharf address was not within city limits. (It is, and less than two miles from campus.)

• shown a curious attitude toward city politics. Both candidates in the current mayoral race attended Yale, so there’s not that sort of bias. What’s evident is a sort of scattered interest in the race which forces wishy-washy faux-analytical articles such as appeared on the front-page of the Yale Daily News’ Oct. 9 edition. On page one, the story is headlined “Swing Voters May Decide Election.” When the story jumps to page 4, the head reads “Swing Voters Role in Mayoral Election Unclear.”

• attended a lunch in honor of former Yale President Rick Levin (who stepped down from his post this year) and New Haven Mayor John DeStefano Jr. (who is not running for reelection), when both men received “Founders Awards” from the Long Wharf Theatre. The final paragraph of the story reads “The Long Wharf Theatre was founded in 1965 by alumni of the Yale School of Drama.” Technically, this is not true, since co-founder Jon Jory actually quit his Yale School of Drama studies in order to start the community-based Long Wharf, and never finished his degree. And a follow-up sentence in that paragraph might have been obliged to mention that in 1966 the university created its own regional theater, the Yale Rep, in direct competition with the year-old Long Wharf, and just a few months later caused considerable consternation in the New Haven arts community by mentioning plans to take over the Long Wharf and absorb it into the School of Drama.

• noted the relocation of CitySeed’s downtown Wednesday farmers’ market from outside City Hall (on Church Street between Elm and Court) to New Haven Green (at the corner of Chapel and Temple). The story begins “The New Haven Green is celebrating its 375th birthday with its first-ever farmer’s market, which opened this summer to great fanfare.” The second paragraph repeats that the move was due to “the Green’s big anniversary.” A more astute reporter or editor might have mentioned that 2013 is in fact the anniversary of the founding of the entire city of New Haven, not just its Green. Town surveyor John Brocket did not formalize the famous nine-square city plan (with the Green in its center) until 1641. A bit more thought on the part of the writer or editor might also have led to the obvious realization that town greens historically are marketplaces, so that it’s a stretch to think that CitySeed would be New Haven Green’s “first-ever farmer’s market.” In fact, the Green was known as “the marketplace” before it was known as “the Green,” and foods were traded there for centuries. The Green has also had a meeting house, a cemetery and for many years a State House. It might be hard for Yalies to imagine New Haven as having a center of its universe that was not Yale University, but so it was.

Such errors and misconceptions pepper the Yale News on a daily basis, causing constant amusement and/or irritation among those of us with deeper understandings of the city of New Haven. These mistakes, misstatements and confusions seem to emanate from indifference as much as anything else.

If Yale’s traditions and details (from a cappella society pledge nights to major university awards to the correct labeling of an alum’s school and class year) were as casually treated in the university’s main news source as are New Haven’s, one suspects there’d be hell to pay. In townie matters, ignorance prevails.

Rock Gods #287: Adventures in Our Little Music Scene

The Merlos broke up last month. Their biggest fan, Bill T., has been turning up at their (and every band’s) main haunt The Bullfinch every night since.

You know a guy in the scene is in a bad state when he comes to the Bullfinch to drink and not see a band.

No secret that Bill T. and the Merlos had developed more than the usual band/fan connection. Bill has used the Merlos to score screenplays he’d written, kept talking about a documentary he was going to do on the band. Now the ending of such a film has been written before he could film the middle.

The break-up seems irreparable. That’s because it involves both money and a girlfriend. The biggest disaster, as Bill T. keeps reminding us in his stupors, is that not one single Merlo has any intention of starting another band.

Tonight: Neil’s Donuts at the Bullfinch, several tasty sets… Hot! Fresh! Good!, the cultured jam band, at Hamilton’s… D’ollaire’s is closed due to no nostalgia in the air.

For Our Connecticut Readers: Last Sunday in the Park

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Scored a couple of dozen vintage Archie Comics Digests for a nickel apiece at the Sunday in the Park gathering in Edgerton Park last, uh, Sunday.

Amazingly, also ran into a guy named George  whom I hadn’t seen in many years. Sunday in the Park with George. It was that kind of day.

Didn’t go there for the cheap comics, or the cheap Sondheim gag. The family goes every year. It’s an honest-to-goodness family-friendly neighborhood fair. It plays out in real time, with an tranquil air. There’s no manic shouting. There are hardly even any microphones. We’re talking an old-school jazz band playing Sinatra standards. We’re talking Morris dancing. Sunday in the park has rides which fit the environment– cables strung between trees, a climbing wall in a grove. It has old fashioned kids games like bean bag toss.

Sunday in the Park is based on British park fairs, conveniently overlooking how different English culture, customs, and especially the weather, can be from New Haven’s. The organizers simply will a mannered, breezy, grassy day of fun into existence. The effort has never failed, and though the event has grown greatly over the years, it retains its essential quaint charms.

And as soon as it was over, it seems, it was Autumn. That gorgeous chill is upon us. The leaves are poised to turn. The Farmer’s Almanac is on the racks in supermarkets. The solstice is this weekend.

May all your Sundays in parks be so wondrous.

Rock Gods #286: Adventures in Our Little Music Scene

Band on a board: Jilly Thing of high school hardcore heroes Throwup Thrust couldn’t get a ride to the gig at All Age Basement last Thursday night, so he loaded all his gear– bass, amp, cords, etc.– in bags and arms and went manically skateboarding down the main street for about. If he hadn’t been running so late, he reasoned, he might have considered walking. On the other hand, he feels more surefooted on wheels.

Extraordinary. A well balanced, punctual punk.

But here’s the cruel injustice: while JT was playing, someone swiped his board. (It’s black with blue flames, in case you happen to see it wrapped around a tree somewhere).

The kid got a ride home, but remains despondent. The GoofyFoot and NoseSlide show this coming Thursday at the Bullfinch has turned into a skateboard benefit event. Give generously. We all want to see Jilly Thing try that crazy stunt again.

Tonight: Lit rock with Shut Up He Explained and How to Write a Short Story at the Bullfinch… invitation-only buffet-dinner benefit at Hamilton’s with the reunion of an old regional band, The Wedding Knots. We suspect it’s more than a nostalgia shindig. We suspect it’s a wedding… Black Garlic at D’ollaire. If they go one more year without another hit, next time they’ll be billed as “An Evening With Black Garlic”…

The 101er

I’ve been in bed for three and a half days. Flu, I figure. Had a mild fever for most of that time. Erratic sleep but constant tiredness. Much like being at a jam-band festival.
Time stops for me when I’m feverish. Can’t write, which is like hell. And my tastes change. All I’ve wanted to watch are old black-and-white like Judge Roy Bean (a 1950s TV series starring goofy Edgar Buchanan, later one of the Hooterville ensemble on Green Acres et al.) and fourth-rate film noir such as Pitfall with Dick Powell. Book wise, it’s cosy mysteries ( thank goodness there was a new Barbara Allan “Trash ‘n’ Treasures” adventure I hadn’t read yet) and John Creasey thrillers.
Today felt like it was the right time to get out of the bedroom for the first extended outing since Saturday. Went to the comics shop, for more dark-lite fare: the various Justice Leagues’ “Trinity War” conflagration. Ordered Thai food which, just to challenge my frail condition,took an hour to prepare. But at least I had an appetite.
Out of the woods now, I trust. Hale and hearty, at least relatively. Can’t wait until I’m in the mood to watch a dumb comedy again.

Let them read cake!

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Hey, they have cake pans on the shelves of New Haven Free Public Library now. It gives new meaning to the term “Reader’s Digest.”

You can check out the cake pans, many of which are comically shaped to resembled cartoon and movie characters, from the children’s section of the library. You have them out for three weeks. The cake pans are renewable.

We used ours when we first started getting lots of yellow squash from our friends’ gardens. I wondered if there was some sort of fruit bread I could make with squash, similar to a zucchini bread.

Better, there was a cake. I found several recipes online for squash cake, then mingled them into one which best suited my own needs and tastes:

One and a half cups brown sugar

One and a half cups white sugar

Three teaspoons baking powder

One-half teaspoon baking soda

Three eggs

One-half cup margarine, or vegetable oil

Three cups finely chopped or grated squash

Three or more cups flour

One-half cup walnuts

One teaspoon cinnamon, and maybe a little nutmeg

Mix up the ingredients until it’s a batter. Pour batter into greased New Haven Free Public Library cake pan. Bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes or so.

Our pan was in the shape of Ziggy, the big-nosed Everyman of greeting card and comic strip fame. I mixed brown-sugar frosting for his body and white sugar frosting for the speech balloon above his head (which admittedly came out looking more like a turban). Mabel did the decorating, with food-color markers.

We took the cake to church for the after-service coffee hour, where it was roundly devoured. Our church is just across the street from the library, but we didn’t return the cake pan right then. You have to return it in person, not through a slot in the library wall. The library also wisely insists that you wash borrowed pans (by hand; machines may ruin the surfaces) before returning them.