Tagged: Ed Garsten

44 Years Since CNN Took A Chance on Me

The ID badge is dated December 1, 1981 but November 30 was really my very first day at CNN, 44 long years ago.

It was a rainy day in Atlanta. I was alone in beautiful apartment with just a sleeping bag, air mattress, lawn chair, 19-inch TV and a cardboard box that served as table for eating, and some clothes. All my other stuff was in Tucson, Arizona, along with my wife, who flew back there to sell our little adobe block house.  She was gone for three months, along with my stuff.

By the time our house was sold and my wife, and belongings and furniture arrived with her, that poor cardboard box was a greasy mess from its use as my dining room table/foot stool.

I was hired as one of the 10 original producers to launch the new network, CNN2, which eventually became Headline News.

If the bosses really knew how much experience I had producing television newscasts I’m sure they would have sent me on my way, but I fooled them with a kickass tape of my newscasts at KGUN, the ABC affiliate in Tucson.

You see, I joined the station doing weekend weather while I was a grad student at the University of Arizona, earning my Masters in Journalism. It was a way in. Within six months I was hired as a full-time reporter, which was my real goal.

That was going along fine when one day the news director called me in and said our longtime producer with 20 years experience had suddenly quit to take a job at a station in Phoenix and he’d love it if I took over.

Pretty funny. I’d never produced a TV newscast in my life.

“Oh, John will train you!”

He did. My first newscast after he left Ronald Reagan was shot. This was March, 1981.

CNN signed on June 1, 1980. I couldn’t watch it because our local cable system didn’t carry it, but I could catch little CNN news briefs on TBS, which was also part of the Turner Broadcast System.

One of the first anchors CNN hired was Lou Waters, who was the news director/anchor at our cross-town rival in Tucson, KOLD. He brought along his producer, Faye, who happened to be a great friend of our main weather caster Linda Rhodes, who formerly worked at KOLD.

That October, Linda tells me Faye tipped her off that CNN was starting a new network and needed producers. Was I interested? Uh, sure. Hell, I had a “solid” six months of experience. I was ready for the network!

I called the number Faye provided to Linda who gave it to me and next thing I know I’m on a flight to Atlanta on a Sunday. I was interviewed by every living body including the president of CNN at the time, Reese Schonfeld. We hit it off because I told him I worked at a radio station in Fulton, New York right out of college and damn, that’s where his wife was from!

I fly back to Tucson that evening with no expectations of landing the job, but the next morning, Burt Reinhardt, the top money man at the network, and successor to Schonfeld as CNN president calls me and offers me the job. Show up on November 30th.

I did, but it things got off to a clumsy start. Having worked in Arizona where no one gets dressed, I show up in a button down shirt, corduroy jeans and very comfortable shoes. Everyone else is in suits, ties, dresses and smirks, directed at me.

My boss, Ted Kavanau, a news legend from NYC, smiles, takes me aside and  kindly mentioned, “as you can see we have a dress code.” Would have been nice to know in advance, but as I found out over the next 20 years, CNN was great at communicating news, just not important stuff to employees.

Ted told me to go over to the national assignment desk and ask one of the extremely busy people to explain how it worked.

I walk up to a bald guy with black-rimmed glasses and a beard and ask him the question. As he glares at my apparent insolence he barks, “you wanna know now the national desk works? Watch this!”

He then picks up the hotline to the DC bureau, starts screaming and swearing , then slams down the phone and quietly, but firmly, answers my original question with, “that’s how the fucking national desk works.”

When Ted asks me how it went I told him how my question was received. He kinda chuckled and said, “yeah, sounds about right.”

Welcome to network news.

I stayed at CNN2/Headline News for a little less than two years, producing hundreds of news casts in the most pressure-filled atmosphere you can imagine. Some producers actually broke down in tears under the pressure, others simply didn’t show up for work ever again.

In 1983 I was promoted to the main network to produce afternoon news casts, then promoted again to share producing the three hour morning show called Daybreak.

All this time, I would pick up a story here and there in hopes of moving back to reporting and by 1986 I was made a full time correspondent out of the Southeast Bureau based in Atlanta.

Here and there I would substitute anchor some newscasts and in 1989 the Detroit Bureau Chief/correspondent job opened. I tossed my tape into the ring and got the job. Been here in the Motor City ever since.

CNN dumped me and about 1,000 others during that “great” merger between parent company Time Warner and AOL in 2001, and closed the bureau.

We could have looked for work anywhere else in the country, but guess what, my family and I loved living in Michigan and I loved covering the auto industry.

Local TV wanted no part of me so I pursued print, because, let’s face it, I was never a TV star, but I could write. Best move I ever made.

It was funny, when I called someone at Ford for an interview while I freelanced for a short time at Automotive News.

“What? You write?” the guy at Ford asked. “TV guys can write?”

“Uh, yeah, I wrote every word that came out of my blow-dried head,” I replied.

“Heh,” he answered. “I thought producers wrote all that stuff for you guys.”

I had some great jobs in the print world. National Auto Writer at the AP, GM beat writer at The Detroit News, and in my semi-retirement, senior automotive contributor at Forbes.com.

But to come full circle, say what you want about what CNN has become, it opened a lot of doors for me when my time there ended there 25 years ago and still does.

The lesson I’d like to leave you all is don’t be afraid to step out of your comfort zone. Before I did the weather, I never did the weather, but I figured it out and succeeded. It led to dipping my feet into TV reporting. I sucked at first, but I received tough, but great direction from our photographers and news director.

I never produced a TV newscast but had a great teacher and got good enough to convince a network to hire me after only six months experience, and promoting me.

I never anchored a newscast when an executive at CNN saw something in me and gave me a chance. I solo anchored an hour network newscast with zero prior experience and it worked out, until the network president thought I looked a little too young. Tried to grow a beard, was too blonde..the lights washed it out.

When fate dealt me a blow I pivoted to print knowing I was a decent writer. Adjustments had to be made to transition from broadcast to print writing, but I was again lucky to have wonderful supervisors and editors to set me straight.

When I jumped to corporate PR at Chrysler, all the skills and news sense I had developed over the decades helped me succeed.

So if you’ve been laid off or otherwise “downsized,” just know you have skills that entirely transferrable and be willing to use them in different ways.

Take a chance, look beyond the obvious and usual. Not only will it help land a new gig, but it will open your life to new experiences and people and perspectives.

Most importantly, bet on yourself. The new stuff might seem challenging, scary, maybe even impossible, at first, but you know the chips in your stack.

Always, always, bet on yourself.

Refusing Role Call

I’m on Linkedin a lot to promote my Forbes.com stories and podcast, Tales From the Beat, so I see things. What I see are a ton of people who write they’re looking for “a new role.”

Of course these are unfortunate individuals who have found themselves suddenly payless because the thing they were doing to make a living was taken away from them due to firing, layoff, business failure or just bad luck.

It happened to me back in January, 2001 when I was laid off as part of the awesome merger between CNN parent company Time-Warner and AOL. I was the CNN Detroit bureau chief and correspondent at the time and was one of about 1,000 employees told to hit the road, thanks to the recommendations by an outside consultant.

So I’ve been there.

In my “role” as a father and husband I burned some of my generous severance to take my family on a vacation out to Arizona, then went to work…looking for work…a job.

The term “role” never entered my mind. I’m not an actor, although I act up some times. I actually was a speech and theater major in college until I realized I had no future as an actor because I couldn’t remember my lines. That’s one of the reasons I pivoted to broadcasting, because you get to read stuff instead of memorizing it.

But I’ve been thinking a lot about the wide use of the term “role” because, well, everyone has a role. Maybe you’re a partner, spouse, parent, mentor, individual pursuing life, support for a disabled person, confidante, conspirator. Those are all roles.

Folks, what you really need….is a job. It may not be as elegant a term as role, but it’s what you really seek.

You need a job because you don’t have one. You need a job because you need a source of income. You need a job because you enjoy working in your chosen field and it gives you pleasure, satisfaction and a sense of accomplishment.

Why do we need to use this word “role” to soften the message?

There is zero shame in admitting you need a job. There is no shame in admitting you need work. It’s what we all need unless you’re independently wealthy.  

Coming out loud and clear that you’re in the job market is actually a great message. It tells prospective employers you’re ready to work and don’t mince words. Yup, no screwing around. “I need a job. I’m right for your company because I have all the skills, great employment record, list of accomplishments. I’ve thoroughly researched your company, its goals, its culture, its accomplishments and I bring qualities that will add value to the operation.

You’re not looking to play a role, you’re not looking to play at all. You’re looking to do a job and do it well in exchange for money.

Actors who play roles have understudies to step in when they can’t come to work. In real life, we don’t have the convenience of someone being paid to wait around backstage to do our jobs in case we don’t show up.

In my entire working 52 year working life, I never once said, “gotta head off to my role now!” I’ve never undergone “on the role training.”

I went to work. I underwent on the job training.

There’s no reason to substitute some sugar-coated euphemism to soften the message.

Just say what you mean. Use honest words to find honest work. You’ll always have your life’s role.

Mixus Uses the Other AI To Ensure Accuracy

In the world of artificial intelligence, when the technology spits out inaccurate information, instead of calling it what it is, a screw up, the industry invented a softer euphemism—hallucination. Those hallucinations have the potential of causing physical or financial harm, or at the least, a major embarrassment. 

But a months-old startup called mixus.ai has added a very analog backstop to catching errors before they do any harm—the human brain. Indeed, its name is a portmanteau of  mix and us, meaning blending artificial with human intelligence to help ensure accuracy.

The simple explanation is when a user makes an AI query, in addition to a AI-generated response mixus.ai also recommends people who have expertise, experience or knowledge on the specific topic. The user can then add those recommended people into their chat and converse with them and AI together.

Building on that original model, mixus.ai has now added an even more powerful tool it calls “colleague in the loop” AI agents, which can conduct a vast array of tasks such as generating social media posts, recruiting talent, drafting and sending emails, to name a few.

The twist is, the content goes nowhere until trusted human beings in a user’s network act as editors and fact-checkers.

“By bringing colleagues into the loop, you get the full power of AI agents, the efficiency and the time savings, etc, without any of that downside risk of AI mistakes going undetected,” explained Elliot Katz, who co-founded mixus.ai with Shai Magzimof. 

Creating AI agents on mixus does not require any sort of coding or programming knowledge, just the ability to read and write. 

Mixus.ai co-creators Shai Magzimof and Elliot Katz

“The beauty of this is someone who’s never used AI, someone who doesn’t even know what an AI agent is, you can create  and use agents on mixus,” declared Katz, in an interview. 

In the video below, Katz demonstrates how a colleague in the loop AI agent is created in mixus. 

There’s no shortage of examples of the volume of AI hallucinations causing companies and individuals to swoon from their effects. 

A report released in April by OpenAI, which operates the popular ChatGPT platform, revealed its o3 model hallucinated over 50% of the time, meaning every other answer was incorrect. And OpenAI’s o4-mini model performed even worse: nearly four out of five responses were wrong, meaning it fabricated answers nearly 80% of the time.

A very recent example occurred just last month when a summer reading list written by a syndicated freelance writer using AI appeared in such major market newspapers as the Chicago Sun-Times and Philadelphia Inquirer.

As reported in the Sun-Times, the writer admitted he never double-checked the results of his AI search which was incredibly unfortunate because several of the book titles in the list never actually existed, making the AI-generated summaries equally false. 

Katz contends it’s an example of a situation that could have been prevented by use of the colleague in the loop system.

“They could be using mixus, and they could have rules that are brought out through mixus, that say, before you publish anything, you have to have your editor or a colleague or multiple colleagues press that verify button, meaning they’ve actually reviewed what the AI put out is real and not total slop, etc,” Katz said. 

Investors are backing the mixus.ai playbook. The company just closed its $2.6 million pre-seed funding round which included participation by Liquid 2, former NFL star quarterback Joe Montana’s venture capital firm. 

Access to mixus.ai is by subscription. The company offers a free, 14-day trial to individuals using a business or personal email address. After that period, anyone who wants to continue as a user will need to contact mixus for “custom pricing,” according to Katz. 

Since launching late last year, mixus.ai has changed its business model from B to C, targeting consumers, to now targeting businesses, for which, errors can be more consequential according to Katz.

“We want colleagues in the loop,” said Katz. “We are working with businesses that want to deploy AI agents in a way that they don’t have to deal with these undetected AI mistakes.” 

You can listen or watch the entire interview with Elliot Katz and an extended demonstration of the mixus.ai colleague in the loop AI agent creation tool in the author’s podcast Tales From the Beat. 

Last Rites By the Yard–Living Through Joann’s Death Rattle

In the past two weeks I’ve witnessed the last rites given at five different locations for the same impending death carrying the same name. As former Monkee Michael Nesmith once sang so long ago, “her name was Joann…..”

The chain of fabric and craft stores named Joann has been condemned to die by May, not because they’re not making money, but because inept management spent too much of it on stuff none of Joann’s core customers want. Stuff like home décor and nine-foot high inflatable Christmas and Halloween decorations.

No…Joann’s loyal disciples sew, craft, frame, paint, mold, bake. They’re makers.

As one bereft Joann customer noted while standing in checkout lines that extended the length of the store and curled around the rear, “we don’t want ready-made things. We’re the ones who make things and we need the materials to make them.”

My wife and daughter are among them, and that’s what led us to visiting a half-dozen Joann locations in our area, and counting.

As merely their wheelman with no aptitude whatsoever for the magic the makers conjure from the raw materials on Joann’s shelves, I could only stand by to witness the swelling desperation and despair among the talented men and women grasping at the supplies they need, as Joann breathes its final breaths.

Yes, the going out of business discounts are certainly an incentive to make multiple sorties to as many Joann stores as possible, but the urgency to stock up before Joann is shut up for good is much more organic.

I’ve come to learn from overhearing the conversations and exclamations from the mournful makers that you simply can’t find the same type of fabric at competitors such as Hobby Lobby.

Indeed, my daughter who makes almost every stitch of clothing she wears, explained there’s fabric for crafting and fabric for apparel. It’s the latter necessary for clothing and Hobby Lobby just doesn’t stock it. Neither, I’m told do the scads of quilting shops scattered around the country.

Sure, you can certainly find apparel fabric online, but as more than one upset shopper noted while prospecting Joann’s remaining bolts, “you have to feel the fabric!” Indeed. 

The impending death of Joann also means imminent unemployment for thousands of its workers, many of whom are running out the clock staffing the stores until the ultimate closing time.

It’s not easy. Each day closer to the end the crowds are becoming denser, patience is getting thinner and emotions are growing more raw.

When one customer barked at a harried staffer about some perceived mistake, the poor worker sadly offered, “I’m trying really hard here.” The customer felt equally as bad for snapping and apologized.

But there are testimonies from fed up workers that some customers hoping to land last-minute bargains are downright disrespectful and thoughtless, such as deriding workers for the long checkout lines and waits, at times, for hours at the fabric cutting tables.

One, cutting table staffer wrote in Reddit, she simply walked off the job after one abusive customer too many.

It didn’t have to be this way. At an auction, a company willing to keep at least some Joann locations alive lost out to a liquidator that makes its blood money by selling off whatever assets it can before trashing them—basically selling the carrion of a dying chain.  What a waste on so many levels.

I don’t know how many more Joann stores we’ll visit before there’s nothing left worth waiting in line to buy. But as long as my wife and daughter want to try their luck as they squirrel away the precious supplies they need while they’re available, I’m happy to be their driver.

Oh, I let them be while they shop. Sometimes I escape for a bit to another store in the shopping center or just take a walk. But I do find fascinating the myriad of gadgets, devices, tools, implements of which I have little to no idea of their use or function.

I’m always drawn to the giant board from which the things they call “notions” are hanging.

 I honestly have no, um, notion, what the stuff is for but it’s fun to wish you knew just so you could work it into a conversation at a bar to attenuate some braggart’s bluster with something like, “heh, but I scored some kickass notions yesterday.” Only to see the wuss back down and plead, “Where, or where?” I smugly reply, “Joann, jerk.” He buys the next round.

Effin’ A!

You know, it’s really hard, day after day, watching so many people at loose ends literally grasping at straws, fabric bolts, buttons, needles and patterns before Joann breathes its last breaths.

Come May it will be RIP for Joann…rest in piece… goods.

Party Pooper

My wife likes purple. I thought it would be cool if I tossed a bag of purple candy in her Christmas stocking. I looked in every supermarket and big box store but purple colored candy just wasn’t something any of them offered. Online wasn’t an option. Christmas was just a day away and I don’t fall for the “Prime” extortion.

I was about to give up when I decided to try my luck in a store that was all about celebrating, since purple seemed to be a celebratory color, if not exactly appetizing.

Yes, Party City had bags of it. Tubes of it. All the purple M&Ms any number of humans could desire simultaneously. It had so many pieces of purpley pills that would melt neither in ones mouth or hands I had to contain myself. Hell, I wanted to toss myself a party for popping into Party City. It would be a theme party with purple hats, cups and paper plates and plastic utensils. Everyone I invited could take a whack at a purple pinata in the shape of a lavender lizard. I wouldn’t even have to leave Party City to get all that stuff because it was all there.

In fact..on the Party City website you could actually search for stuff not only by theme or occasion, but by color. Click on purple and voila, it’s a grape new world!

Now the suits who run Party City say the entire chain is closing down. They say the Party City poopers are discount stores, online marketplaces, people not throwing parties at all that require bundles of balloons or paper tablecloths and napkins with pictures of ponies or super heroes.  

What are kids doing for birthday parties? Maybe there’s an app for that, like everything else. How do you play pin the tail on the donkey—close your eyes and take a poke at a smartphone screen? Feels ass-backwards.

Where do you get party favors? You know, those little tchotchkes you give each kid who is sure to either break it or choke on it before the candles are even lit? I’m told you can get that stuff at “dollar” stores. Heh. Even those have given up the ghost now charging at least a buck-twenty-five for their wares that were barely worth a single in the first place and it’s never as cool or in the variety Party City offers.

I always enjoyed watching some poor mom or dad trying to schlep out to their car with a bundle of a dozen helium balloons, struggling to get out the door without cursing as that big Mickey Mouse one got loose and headed to oblivion in the troposphere.

Where do you even buy helium-filled balloons now? When I was growing up long ago, Party City didn’t yet exist. It was hard to find a place to buy helium balloons, so my father figured out if you rub an inflated balloon on your pants it created enough static electricity for the balloon to stick to the wall…for about 10 minutes.

Oh, you might find another store that sells helium-filled balloons but only Party City has them for every freakin’ age decade–although I’d be afraid to buy one for someone turning 80. The damned thing bursts, scares the crap out of the new octogenarian, that’s their last birthday. Too bad because Party City has balloons for when you turn 90 or 100. So deflating.

I’m not much for dressing up for Halloween, or even to go to the store, but hell, you never know when you’ll get the yen to pop on a Green Glam Wig when you’re too lazy or late to wash your hair..or you just wanna look greeny-glam.

I never really got the thing with “gender reveal” parties. I mean, when we had our kids the nurse or doctor just kinda looked, er, under the hood, when the cherub made his or her way into the world from the tunnel of love. But nowadays couple want to know in advance so they can decorate the nursery gender-specifically, advise attendees to their baby shower not to gift jock straps when they know the lil’ darlin’ about to emerge will have nothing to strap in.

I know, I know. You can find them online. I did, but hell, you don’t get the satisfaction of watching the smirk on the face of the pimply teen-aged cashier or the opportunity to tell a bad dad joke while cashing out. “Yeah, the wife and I are celebrating our second honeymoon. Heh-heh.” Then you apologize as the kid makes some rude remark about Boomers.

Sure enough, Party City carries just the right accessories for gender reveal soirees. I love the paper plates that say, “just here for the SEX.” Heh. I’m here for that! Where will you buy those now?

I could go on and on about all the party paraphernalia at Party City, but you get the idea. We’re just losing too many go-to chains that we long depended on for one reason or another, like Big Lots—cheap stuff, tacky furniture, giant containers of cajun snack mix and a hundred varieties of ear buds and pods for Keurigs.

But I mourn the passing of Party City the most. It’s not that I visited the store very often, but sometimes it’s just nice to know a place like that is there when you need it. Like when your partner in life decides she has a new favorite color M&Ms, or when a friend turning 100 boldly requests a helium balloon and doesn’t care if it bursts, because they can’t hear it anyway.

So long, Party City. I’d say “party’s over” but that’s just too trite..and I won’t be party to that.

Ghost in the Hell–A Workplace Horror Story

Unlike retail stores that show their Halloween stuff in July, I waited until now to conjure up a little verbal potion of apparitions that manifest themselves in the form of untalented and cowardly managers and executives.

You see, they don’t wait for All Hallow’s Eve to dress up as ghosts—they play the role all year long.

Just like all ineffective bosses are not alike, there are various methods employed by the bottom-feeders who would rather lurk as passive-aggressive cowards than have the courage to appear before their charges and reveal their actual frightening thoughts.

Ah..but isn’t Halloween all about fright? There’s a difference between being scary and not having the intestinal fortitude to scare up honest feedback.

Yes..it’s an exercise in the dark arts—keeping employees  in the dark about where they stand, the quality of their work, the chances of promotion or raise.

I’ve worked long enough to have been ghosted by several bosses. One day you’re in the “house,” having regular conversations and interplay with the person to whom you report. Then one day that house becomes haunted when that person metamorphosizes into a being never seen, never heard, acting as if you never existed.

You’re spooked.

The questions fly through your brain. Is the boss mad at me? Am I getting fired? What’s going on?

Then you make the mistake of approaching the body with no substance looking for answers. The replies you receive are as transparent as the ghost boss’s soul.

You can hear him or her now conjuring the lies they are about to tell you. Hovering over a cauldron of steaming bullshit, they stir it while chanting the ingredients they are adding.

“A gallon of lies! A dash of mis-direction! A pair of side eyes! A dollop of deceit!”

Then they serve it up expecting you to swallow…and believe.

That’s the time to politely explain you’re already up to here with crap and tender your notice.

When the dispirited spirit attempts to reverse your resolve, you turn to the empty vessel and calmly reply, “Not a fucking ghost of a chance.” 

Trick and retreat.

I Hope Trump Was Right About Detroit

I hope Donald Trump was right when he thought he was insulting Detroit, while speaking here, predicting if Kamala Harris beats him in the presidential election, declaring, “Our whole country will end up being like Detroit if she’s your president.”

I hope he’s right. Harris should hope so too, and campaign on that hope.

My love affair with the Motor City began in 1989, although it wasn’t love at first sight.

After eight years working at CNN at its Atlanta, Georgia headquarters launching Headline News, producing thousands of news casts, being promoted to correspondent and anchor, it was time for a change.

That change came when CNN Detroit’s first bureau chief/reporter, the inimitable Robert Vito, was appointed to lead the network’s bureau in Rome.

Few people wanted to take his place because Detroit was, y’know, a scary, cold, murderous, nasty place. At least that was its reputation.

I’m a native New Yorker. That kind of stuff doesn’t deter me. So I applied for the job and got it.

In the weeks before I made the move, idiots in the newsroom gave me shit warning me to buy an Uzi and other small arms with which to defend my kith and kin.

But there were also a couple of folks who actually had lived and worked  in Detroit and told me to ignore the morons, one predicting, “once you live there you’re never gonna wanna leave. Just give it time and explore.”

When I asked why they left, they both said it was simply a matter of seizing career opportunities but they missed the place badly and visited often.

So we moved. It wasn’t great at first. We went from a split-level house that eventually took us nine months to sell because the Atlanta market was over-built, to a rental townhouse in suburban Farmington Hills that had plenty of room but lots of, um, rodents and at least one hooker as a neighbor.  

It was colder, more cloudy and at the time Detroit’s downtown was fairly run down. But I kept remembering what those folks told me about giving it time and exploring. So we did.

As the new Detroit bureau chief and correspondent my prime coverage responsibility would be, of course, the auto industry.

CNN founder Ted Turner said he established the Detroit Bureau in 1983 because he wanted to be close to the most important industry in the world. The bureau was also in the basement of PBS station WTVS a couple of blocks from the old General Motors headquarters in Detroit’s New Center area. Again, Turner put it there because he wanted CNN’s Detroit Bureau to be near the biggest company in the most important industry in the world.

I quickly found out something perhaps Turner didn’t know about Detroit and the auto industry—how warm and welcoming both could be, especially if you showed some humility and a willingness to learn, which I did.

My new charges at the bureau instantly made me feel welcomed and were kind enough to drive me around the area as I considered places to live and explained the mile road system.

Now don’t get that confused with the “southern charm” I was used to in Georgia. Let’s just say Detroit has its own vernacular—meaning a directness that one could mistake denotes rudeness.

Example. My first real contact with the auto industry was interviewing the top numbers cruncher for Ford. He was a crusty guy two months from his retirement. When I sat down to begin the interview he barked at me, “okay, you’re new, you don’t know anything. Just shut the hell up, listen to what I say and get it right.”

I did on all accounts and after my story aired he called me, now speaking in a much friendlier tone and laughed, saying, “scared the shit out of you, didn’t I? But you did real good. Welcome to Detroit.” 

Yes. I needed to give Detroit a chance.

After that I was invited to attend and to speak at a number of events where industry and PR poohbahs gave me warm welcomes.

I was even invited, several times, to appear on the radio with legendary WJR morning giant, the late J.P. McCarthy, where he’d give me gentle shit about the media bashing Detroit. I won him over by changing the subject, telling him anecdotes about Ted Turner sometimes appearing the Atlanta newsroom in a bathrobe after spending the night in his office upstairs after a particularly rough evening of, er, personal enjoyment.

I was honored to be one of McCarty’s final guests on his Focus segment the week of his last shows before he retired.

Over the years my family and I discovered the beautiful suburbs, the wonders of Michigan and above all, the friendliness of its people. We also reveled in the genius of the hard-working citizens who constantly push the boundaries of technology, mobility, education and culture.

In January, 2001 CNN’s parent company completed what would end up being a disastrous merger with AOL, and the company closed bureaus and laid off about a thousand of us in one fell swoop. I was one of them.

So now a choice had to be made. Where to go to continue to make a living. Our two kids were still in school and we very much wanted to avoid uprooting them.

But in the end it wasn’t really a question of moving. My family said they love it here. The Detroit area has everything you could want—schools, shopping, recreation, culture, major league sports teams. Why move?

There weren’t any TV jobs for me so I re-invented myself as a print reporter. Again, Detroit came through for me.

The Associated Press Detroit bureau chief Charles Hill needed a national auto writer and I had place my resume on a journalism job website. He was skeptical a TV guy could actually write—typical bias against broadcast journalists—but gave me a chance.

Yes, there was a learning curve, but again, Detroit came through for me. My editor, Randi Berris and supervisor, Mike Householder, held my hand, broke me of some TV habits and were so, so patient and supportive.

It led to being recruited by The Detroit News to be the General Motors beat writer and three years later, tapped by then DaimlerChrysler PR chief Jason Vines to ghost write and manage his new blog. That job eventually grew to the creation of a new digital communications team which I was appointed to lead until I retired in 2016.

Even after I retired, the opportunities kept coming. I was recruited to use my many years of broadcast journalism experience to help out the Automotive News with its twice-daily newscasts.

That ran its course and I was immediately approached by a former Chrysler colleague at Franco PR to work as a consultant and at the same time, the Forbes Detroit bureau chief asked me if  I’d like to be a freelance automotive contributor. That was in 2018 and I’m still working those two part-time gigs, which I thoroughly enjoy.

You see a theme here? Detroit represents open-mindedness, opportunity, fulfillment. My kids are adults but they’re still here. We didn’t skip town upon retirement. Indeed we bought a bigger house.

We live exactly one minute from a magnificent trail that connects with others for many, many miles where we often walk or bike ride.

We’re surrounded by lakes and are only 20 minutes from the Huron River where I often paddle in my kayak.

My daughter and boyfriend have also recently introduced me to the magnificent sport of disc golf. Who knew there were so many wonderful courses in the Detroit area—most of which charge no fee?

Detroit has become internationally renowned for its eclectic restaurant scene with restaurants led by adventurous chefs conjuring meals and experiences delighting diners with tastes that range from basic American fried stuff to gourmet dishes delving into an array of elements and cultures.

Thousands of new homes, apartments, townhouses and condos are opening or under construction, aimed at attracting new full-time residents to the city.

Take a look at Detroit’s skyline. That new Hudsons block skyscraper is a metaphor for the new heights our town is reaching.

Leave the Detroit area, leave Michigan? Are you freakin’ crazy?

So listen, Kamala Harris. If you become President of the United States, you would do well to make much of the country a lot like Detroit. And Trump? You were too stupid to know the insult you intended was actually a compliment.

Detroit’s Multi-Towering Conundrum–The Renaissance Center’s Dark Ages

What do you do with seven giant glass tubes sticking out of the ground that happen to be the most famous and distinctive feature of your city’s skyline? That’s the question folks around Detroit are asking ever since General Motors CEO Mary Barra announced the company is moving its world headquarters out of the Renaissance Center next year to a new building about a mile north.

Some say tear it all down. Barra promised GM and the developer still putting the finishing touches on the building to which the automaker is moving will work to, um, reimagine the colossal architectural beast.

Yes, I call it a beast that should actually never have been imagined.

Some context. I lived in Atlanta for eight years in the 1980’s when I worked for CNN. It’s where I saw the first iteration of what would grow to become the actual center of the Renaissance Center.

You see, the architect John Portman built his first tubular monstrosity in the city of a hundred streets with Peachtree in their names…and now, one hotel..the Peachtree Plaza. The single glass tube instantly became the key feature of Atlanta’s skyline, showcased in every image of the growing city’s downtown.

The first time I landed in Atlanta for my interview at CNN in 1981, I looked north from the terminal and saw that thing sticking up like a 12-year boy’s first real boner. The city Sherman burnt down was rising again and finally reaching puberty.

Thankfully, over the years, as Atlanta grew, so did its skyline and Portman’s glass pipette is less prominent.

Here in Detroit Henry Ford II, the Deuce, figured he’d more than double what Portman planted in Dixie and, together with Detroit leaders, commissioned the architect to duplicate Atlanta’s Peachtree Plaza, but then surround it with four octagonal office buildings all connected by a network of passageways that would challenge even the most accomplished spelunkers.

The new Renaissance Center, or RenCen, would become the symbol of Detroit…the Renaissance City. Planted on the banks of the Detroit River, facing Windsor, Canada, the RenCen overshadowed and loomed over older landmark downtown buildings such as the Penobscot and Guardian to herald the Motor City’s vitality and prominence, or at least assert it.  

If anything, the RenCen was a photogenic feature that made for effective marketing materials.

Less than 20 years later it all went bad.

In 1989 I was transferred by CNN from Atlanta to Detroit to become its new bureau chief and correspondent. The company had me spend a few days getting to know the staff and the city before moving here. They put me up in what was then the Omni Hotel in the Millender Center…connected to the RenCen by a short pedestrian bridge over Jefferson Avenue.

Of course, I had heard of the RenCen and decided, one evening, to explore this famous landmark. As soon as I entered it from the pedway I felt like a piece of dust might feel as it’s sucked into the collection bag of a Hoover. It was dark and directionless, with scant chance of quick escape.

If I was a mouse seeking a piece of cheese I would starve before finding the morsel since there was no apparent logic to the labyrinth’s layout. I wasn’t dumb enough to attempt to explore the complex because it was just too, well, complex. So I returned, disappointed, to my hotel room.

Not long after I moved up to Detroit and was with my camera crew, I returned with them to the RenCen to shoot an interview with a prominent economist at Comerica Bank which had offices in one of the towers. We weaved in and out between the towers and concourses searching for the right tube to ascend to reach our destination. We were late. We apologized. The economist laughed as he said, “This place sucks. Everyone gets lost…the first dozen times they come here.”

Another time, years later, as I was heading to a meeting a very upset man came up to me. “You look like you know your way around. Please, I heard there’s an ATM here. Can you direct me?”

Deciding this person was an honest Joe who did not deserve to have his hopes and dreams crushed, I looked him in the eye and said, “Sir. Even if I told you, you’d never find it. There’s a bank right across the street. Just head for the daylight of the exit and never stop. I want you to see your family again.”

The man instantly did as he was told. He knew. The RenCen’s tubes would suck you up like bacteria in a test lab.

The place not only didn’t make sense, but it wasn’t making any money as tenants fled to locations where employees, customers and clients could reasonably expect to find their destinations without the utter frustration of being caught in a glass and concrete hamster cage.

Just as it was given up for dead, in 1996 GM bought the place at a bargain rate and moved its world headquarters there from an historic building a couple of miles north. The automaker saved the day. Instantly, thousands of people occupied offices, supported the stores and restaurants. The RenCen had a new life!

Not so fast. Shortly after GM made the move we had an interview booked with then GM CEO Jack Smith. Nice guy. The interview was for our annual auto show special and our producer wanted to use lots of lights.

We plugged ‘em in. Our lights, and all the lights on the floor, went out. Guess the building wasn’t quite ready for prime time…or any time that required extra voltage. It took a few minutes, but the electricians did their magic and we smartly reduced our lighting scheme.

Smith was cool about it. “I guess there’s still some work to be done,” he said with an embarrassed chuckle.

There was plenty of work still to be done.

 GM poured millions upon millions to finally take some of the mystery of navigating the maze with a simple innovation called the circulation ring. No more weaving in and out. Take the ring like a big traffic roundabout and bail out when you reached the exit closest to your destination. The big berms that walled off the complex from the rest of the city were torn down and the soaring Wintergarden was built, offering a bright gathering venue and passageway to the Detroit River.

Then Covid hit. People started working from home. The RenCen returned to its ghostly, pre-GM silence. After the pandemic abated, Barra said workers needed to return three days a week, but by then many of them had already relocated to other GM facilities and others just never returned.

It became time to find a smaller place for the automaker to park.

So what to do with it when Mary and all her sheep settle in their new pasture?

Some say to knock it down. Others imagine apartments, condos, restaurants, some commercial space.

In another era, it might have served well as a garrison guarding Detroit against hostile canon fire from gunboats on the Detroit River. Ah..Fort Renaissance! Tower 400 forever! We have secured the circulation ring! Remember the Marriott! It’s enough to make one forget the Alamo, which is much, much smaller and has an expensive gift shop.

Only because I’m semi-retired and have the time, I think about the future of the Renaissance Center. To demolish it would just add tons of waste to the environment. To save it would just leave tons of waste above ground where at least squatters could literally lose themselves for awhile.

Maybe get Carvana to turn one of the towers into its most giant vehicle vending machine. Wouldn’t you love to see your late model Buick do a swan dive from the 39th floor? Good way to test its shocks.

Offer bungie and parachute jumping over the river. Just make sure you packed your passport in case the winds make you wind up in Windsor.

Fill one tower with infused water for all those enjoying Detroit’s magnificent River Walk. Lotsa taps all around the tower where walkers, joggers, cyclists could fill their Stanley cups, less than a mile from where the Detroit Red Wings won their Stanley Cups. Joe Louis Arena is long gone but the ground remains hallowed. Hey…it’s all marketing, go with it.

In reality, the RenCen will probably become the banal “mixed-use” property with a variety of residences, hotels, stores, restaurants and maybe once in a while, sponsored races around the circulation ring.

I can’t wait to see how Mary Barra and master developer Dan Gilbert will reimagine the RenCen, because love it or hate it, it would be a colossal shame if our city’s signature bundle of glass towers was allowed to go down the tubes.

Figuring It Out At Niagara Falls

We stopped by Niagara Falls the other day on our way to visit relatives in Rochester, N.Y. We’d seen them before, the Falls, that is, because they’re not far off the route across Canada from Michigan we’ve taken for over 30 years. Yeah, we’ve seen the in-laws plenty but they don’t have a gift shop.

In the past, we’d stop on the Canadian side because the long-held opinion is the view from there is better.

But this time I wanted to see for myself, so we pulled into Niagara Falls State Park on the U.S. side and walked and drove around for some close-up views.

No, we didn’t do the tourist stuff by taking a cruise on the Maid of the Mist or take an elevator to the top of the observation tower. Just walked around along the fence then where you’re close enough to get kissed by the falls’ mist . See the photos and video.

Here’s the bottom line. No matter what side you’re on, it’s a lot of water plunging over the rocks with a crash, stirring up clouds of mist and your face gets wet.

But since I’m getting to that point if life where wonders seem more matter of fact and my biggest wonder is wondering about the symbolism of millions of gallons of water spilling over a cliff.

So my gaze turned upriver from the falls as we worked our way around, then off, Goat Island toward the bridge to Grand Island. Within a few miles you see the dramatic change. The Niagara River appears placid and innocent, apparantly without a clue it’s headed for a fall.

Suddenly the current quickens and accelerates into what’s known as the American Rapids. The water turns turbulent and confusing. White caps and waves, danger and demise just ahead.

Indeed, the river then splits over three towering precipices forming the triumverate of famous Falls—The Bridal Veil, Horseshoe and American. The once lazy Niagara River unwittingly violently dumped overboard about 170 feet into the Niagara Gorge then just as abruptly shakes its head, clears its mind and wanders willingly into Lake Ontario wondering what the hell just happened.

So now in my seventh decade with so many years of alternating personal turbulence, acceleration, stagnation, surprise, disappointment, agony, elation, success and failure behind me, I can’t help but both look back to the upriver portion of my life and then ahead to where I will meet my precipice.

How much longer will the relative peace and yes, occasional boredom, of retirement continue flowing like the lazy Niagara River that oozes from Lake Erie then heads north and west and north again where it empties into Lake Ontario.

At what point will I be rudely rousted into the American Rapids of my life—that final, irrevocable sprint to a point you only see once it’s too late and your personal river has run its course.

But just like the wondrous Niagara Falls—not before providing for yourself and others you pass along the way some thrills, love, memories, kindness…and a refreshing mist to remind them you were there.

Let Sleeping Limbs Lie

The other night I got up around 3am because my left arm fell asleep. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered why, in the middle of the night, the rest of me wasn’t asleep. When all of me is asleep does it actually feel as numb as my sleepy arm, only I don’t know about because, well, I’m asleep?

Taking this further, if I start shaking my arm that’s asleep and wake it up, then go back to sleep, have I just wasted my time? Seems like I’m pissing off my arm which was sound asleep, until I rudely rousted it then expected it to immediately return to slumber.

When I finally awakened to start my day and grab some breakfast, it was difficult to lift a spoon to eat my Cheerios. You see my spoon-lifting left arm was lethargic from having its sleep interrupted and was grouchy the rest of the day, at one point, refusing to participate in nut cracking—a two-armed task, and threatened a stirring strike, leaving undissolved sugar at the bottom of my coffee cup.

Oh, I could use my right arm but as a southpaw it would only result in a dreadful mess and give my left arm another reason to elbow the milk carton in a mocking manner.

Consider this a valuable lesson learned. If you wake up in the middle of the night with a snoozing extremity, turn over and let it go. It’s nothing to lose sleep over.