All reporters need certain qualities. They should be curious, skeptical, fair, honest and relentless in the search for the truth. But maybe the most important quality is trust. I would tell all new reporter candidates that above all, I had to be able to trust them. Trust them to get it right. Trust that their sources were good. Trust them to ask the right questions. Trust them to know what they didn’t know. Trust them to ask for help when they needed it. I would tell them looking good and sounding good on camera was the easy part. Reporting under pressure, and getting it right is what mattered.

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Thousands of books, articles, academic courses, and movies have been written, taught, and watched by millions since Abraham Lincoln was assassinated in 1865.

I have been fascinated by Lincoln for years. I’ve read many books on his life. I’ve studied his speeches. I’ve even read books about one of his two secretaries, John Hay, and General Grant, John Wilkes Booth, and a book on one of the most critcal months in American history, April, 1865. But as I studied his life, it always amazed me how he even became president, and saved the country. An extarordinary man from the humblest of beginnings, who overcame overwhelming personal loss, to become one the most important figures in history.

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We all know the places. Columbine, Virginia Tech, Sandy Hook, Fort Hood, Charleston, Chattanooga. Schools, churches, military facilities. We hear the Special Reports on radio, TV, on our phones. It has become the term that makes us shutter, “Active Shooter”. How many are hurt or dead? How long will it last? Did the police get the shooter right away? What’s the final count? And then, Who? Why? How did he get the gun? Stories of heroism and families torn apart in a split second. People, children just going to school, work, or church.

This past weekend my wife and I were at a weekly outdoor concert in a park in a small shore town. There were hundreds of people there sitting on their beach chairs. Old and young. Kids running around. There was the usual ice cream truck and hot dog cart parked on the edge of the crowd. A scene played out in thousands of communities on a beautiful summer evening.

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The word golf seems to draw very different human reactions. People who play it can’t get enough of it. They talk about it. They can go into very specific, and some would say annoying, details on golf courses, certain holes, the slope of the green, what clubs they used and on and on. They watch it on TV, and aspire to hit the ball 340 yards, right down the middle, like Rory McIlroy or Dustin Johnson. And, of course, there is no better way to spend 4 or 5 hours.

People who don’t play, can’t even grasp the concept. Grown men and  women wasting time and money hitting a ball around acres and acres trying to accomplish something the overwhelming majority will never do, shoot par. If they catch you watching it on TV, they will say go watch this somewhere else. I want to watch…just fill in the blank…anything else. The dramatic finishes at Chambers Bay and the British Open don’t seem to mean anything to them, if you can believe it.

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We are all guilty. We have used these words and phrases dozens, and in some cases, hundreds of times a day in conversation. They unnecessarily litter our communication with friends, family, and co-workers. Most of us have grown so accustom to hearing them, that we don’t even notice anymore. But, they can drive some of us crazy.

They are conversation fillers that are redundant, and can make the beautiful English language sound like nails on a blackboard. Maybe I’m being a language snob, and should find more important things to write about. But since my career was built around the use of clear, concise writing and oral presentation, I feel I have to speak out.

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I said this blog would be about journalism, politics, language and life. It all started with this picture. This is my father as a young reporter interviewing John Kennedy on election day 1960 at the Hyannis Airport. I’m told it was the last interview Kennedy did before being elected president.

A short time after Kennedy was elected, a colleague of my father’s brought it to the White House, and got President Kennedy to sign it. It says, “Nicholas Archer, With best wishes, John F. Kennedy”. It sat on a desk in our home. I was nine years old, and old enough to understand that this was something special. Not every kid had an autographed picture of his father interviewing the president.

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I have spent over 40 years in the local television news business. After retiring recently, I feel I have some time and freedom to write about journalism, politics, the use of the English language, and some personal observations on life.

Journalism has changed dramatically over the last 40 years. Some of it for the better and some for the worse. I hope to talk about what I think works and how things can be better. I hope to get feedback and ideas from you.

How we use language to communicate ideas is at the heart of journalism and politics. I hope to look at great examples of both, and see how history can teach us about accommodation and compromise.

Finally, I want to write about personal experiences and observations on our life and times.

Mike Archer