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Archive for the ‘Ranting and Raving’ Category

All money raised from ad sales will go to purchasing the sort of sweet, sweet threads I modeled as a young lad.

  All money raised from ad sales will go to purchasing the sort of sweet, sweet threads I modeled as a young lad.

Now is your moment.

Want to advertise your business? Promote your cause? Get me to provide a link so every time someone clicks it, they see a YouTube video for Northwest legend Sir Mix-A-Lot doing “Baby Got Back?”

Then this is your moment.

We’re having a winter wonderland blowout here at coupevillesports.com. From today through the end of the year, all ads on this site (take a gander to your right to see of what I speak) are $46.

Yes, $46. One buck for each point the Coupeville High School girls’ basketball team scored against the elbow-throwers from Meridian in grabbing its first win of the season.

It’s simple.

The ads are good for the lifetime of the site (we’ve been here 17 months and are going strong).

The number of page views we get have risen steadily, month after month.

I post virtually every single day (close to 1,600 articles so far), so eyes are always returning to the blog on a regular basis.

When readers click your ad, it will take them to your website or Facebook page or the destination of your choice. If you have a business but don’t have a website or FB page, we have a page to link to where we can extol your virtues.

And paying $46 for a lifetime link to Sir Mix-A-Lot or some such shenanigans? I’m serious. I’ll do it for you.

Will the Canadian-owned “local” papers do that for you? Not likely.

Contact me today at davidsvien@hotmail.com and enjoy your very own ad tomorrow. It’s that simple.

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"I was told there would be pie... Chop, chop, woman!!"

“I was told there would be pie… Chop, chop, woman!!”

"Hear! Hear!!"

“Sometime today would be nice…”

Vacation? We’re talking about vacation?!?!

We are.

There are no games being played, very little is happening in the world of Central Whidbey-based sports this week and I am off to see the nephews, so don’t expect tons of stories for the next three days or so.

You’ll be fine. It’ll make you stronger. You will survive.

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And you thought I swam in Penn Cove cause I enjoyed the taste of the water...

And you thought I swam in Penn Cove cause I enjoyed the taste of the water…

I have depression.

Have had it, and have fought it, for awhile now.

Not clinical depression, perhaps, since I can’t afford someone with a lot of diplomas on their walls to officially certify my moods, but it’s not that hard to figure out.

It’s also not that hard to figure out where it started.

The deaths of my parents spiraled into a bad business deal where I crashed my physical health, compromised my ideals and threw away inheritance money on hundreds of DVD’s that now sit buried in a storage locker owned by someone else.

Since that time, it has gotten better, than consumed me again when I introduced alcohol to the mix, then ebbed again.

I have more good days than bad, but I know my silences trouble some.

It is nowhere near as bad as it once was, not that long ago.

I have made changes, I have made (and am making) amends, I have accepted (or am trying to) that some things will simply not work out the way I would like.

There is a photo that was posted recently, of a person who matters a lot to me, a person who has lost much and yet remains as upbeat and full of life as anyone I know.

It was a beautiful photo, one of the rare ones that capture love and hope in one truly transcendent image of a person and their dog, seen from behind as they stare out at the sun-caressed water.

I would like to see things always in the light that shines through that photo.

It may take me some time, but I will get there.

I know the depression is always there, lingering at the edges, waiting for a chance to get back in, but I fight it.

Some days better than others.

It is a big part of why I go into the less-than-warm waters of Penn Cove each day (207 and counting in 2013, and not a wet suit in sight, cause I’m not a tourist).

Yes, it is cold. Yes, it is salty. Yes, sometimes, it is stinky.

But I go, day in and day out, in sunshine and rain, and, sometimes, in howling wind that slaps the crap out of me with the swells it creates.

I go in, because, by doing so, I prove I’m stronger than this foe. That I can, by focusing with a laser-like intensity (well, at least until the first icicle shoots up my crotch each day…), win a small battle with myself.

The moment when I come out of the water and stand on the rocky, barnacle and mussel-encrusted hunk of beach, alone, having beaten the water for another day, is why I do it.

Because, if I can beat Penn Cove, I can beat the depression.

At least that’s the plan.

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Call 675-6611 today to register your complaints.

Call 675-6611 today to register your complaints.

Suck it, Coupeville.

That’s what the Canadian-owned “local” newspapers are telling us, whether they use the words or not. Go away and let us count our loonies in private, peons.

What began as a shame has become a disgrace over the past five days.

The Whidbey News-Times and Whidbey Examiner have yet to run a SINGLE photo from Friday’s Coupeville High School Homecoming parade or the game and halftime show itself.

Yes. That’s right. The “papers of record,” the “professionals,” the “responsible journalists” have basically flipped the middle finger at our town and told us, nope, the accomplishments of your children mean nothing to us.

When their print editions finally hit the street today, some 120 hours or so after the events (the equivalent of five years in media-savvy 2013), I am sure there will be a photo or two. Yet, the websites that garner far more eyeballs than the print edition, have had diddly and squat.

This never would have happened even a year ago.

When Kasia Pierzga ran the Examiner — before she sold it to Sound Publishing — she would have had a photo up on her website 10 minutes after the parade passed. Even if she was running a fever of 110 and had to power her internet connection with two hamsters on a treadmill.

I have absolutely, positively no doubt of that.

She realized we live and work in a small town, and events like that are the very lifeblood of small-town journalism.

Instead, we have sat for days with the main story on the Examiner site being a feature on Greenbank.

You know, Greenbank. That place that isn’t even part of Coupeville, which is what the Examiner exists to cover.

There’s another Canadian-owned rag, the South Whidbey Record, a sister paper that exists solely for that reason — to write stories about SOUTH WHIDBEY.

When I jump on the Canadian-owned newspapers, I feel no great joy.

Twenty years ago I took some very small paychecks from that same company. Many of the people that work at those newspapers are mentors, and I am sure I continue to burn the bridges back to them on a daily, maybe even hourly basis.

But this? This is a shame. This is dereliction of duty. This reeks.

Shame on you for doing this to Coupeville and then trying to still pass yourself off as our “local” papers.

**If you’re in an email kind of mood, the address is: kgraves@whidbeynewsgroup.com.**

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Wolf football players Xavier Clark (left) and Ramon Booker enjoy the parade. (Shelli Trumbull photos)

Wolf football players Xavier Clark (left) and Ramon Booker enjoy the CHS Homecoming parade Friday. (Shelli Trumbull photos)

Longtime Wolf coach Larrie Ford (left) hangs out with a quality crowd.

Longtime Wolf coach Larrie Ford (left) hangs out with a quality crowd.

Even after running the parade route, CHS cheerleaders can still smile.

CHS cheerleaders Kirsten Pelroy (left) and Ciera St Onge are all smiles.

Aaron Trumbull, matinee idol.

Aaron Trumbull, matinee idol.

Kacie Kiel is camera shy (for the first time in her life).

Kacie Kiel is camera shy (for the first time in her life).

It is not 1924 anymore.

Sadly, I don’t think that’s a fact that has ever really sunk in for the Canadian-owned newspapers on this Island.

As a former employee of both the Whidbey News-Times and Whidbey (Coupeville) Examiner, I don’t say that with as much glee as you might think. It is, instead, with a certain amount of sadness as I watch once vibrant institutions slide further into obscurity.

There are very good people at both papers — actually, they’re the same people, since they no longer have separate staffs, regardless of what they might like you to think — people whose writing and reporting skills are of the highest caliber.

But the papers themselves, subsidiaries of the giant (and I do mean giant) Black Press empire, are stuck in a ’20s mindset.

They refuse to acknowledge that the internet has long ago become the primary way people get their information. They have a lot of weapons at their disposal and continually choose to shoot themselves in the foot without provocation.

What has inspired this rant, you ask?

This Island is made up of small towns. We are not covering Detroit or L.A. or Moscow. It is small towns.

And when you cover small towns, events like Homecoming football games and parades, events that draw in a large cross-section of a town, are vitally important to those small towns.

Stuff like that is, or should be, the lifeblood of what they, and I, do.

But, here we are 24 hours later, a time period when I have run three separate photo essays (with 25 photographs) covering every aspect of Coupeville High School’s celebration, from parade to halftime show.

Now this diatribe runs it to 30 photos.

I also had a story on the game — which, by virtue of featuring Coupeville hosting South Whidbey, was even more ramped-up in interest locally than otherwise — up online an hour after the game finished. That story had a fresh photo of Jake Tumblin, so that would be 31 pics.

This is the time period when modern-day readers — the people living in 2013 — turn to the internet for exactly this. Immediate, intimate coverage of life in small towns.

Whether on Facebook or on a blog, they want to see it as soon as possible.

But, if you turned to the News-Times, Examiner or even the South Whidbey Record today, you found diddly and squat. A newspaper empire that sits closer to Coupeville’s football field than I do — and I only live a little over a mile away — is silent.

And that’s a shame.

They may tell you they are holding the photos and stories for the print edition of the paper. Except that doesn’t arrive until Wednesday, and we are in 2013 and not 1924. Readers are not waiting for the newspaper to hit the stoop anymore.

So then they’ll tell you they’ll put some of what they have up online Monday, when they go back to the office. Except 72 hours is about the same as 72 years in 2013 and you don’t have to be in the office to upload a picture.

I mean, good lord, how is it even conceivable that I, the last cave man who refuses to get a cell phone, much less a smart phone, continues to kick their pampered asses so easily?

They should be ashamed. They should wake up.

It is 2013 and this business has changed. If you don’t realize that at some point, there will be a day — much sooner than you think — when the small towns you serve no longer even realize you exist.

And that is sad.

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