Saturday, June 18, 2005

Julia and Terrell: Tough, Cool and Twisted.

Walking down Marcy Street, going by the Reporter newspaper office on Marcy Street I suddenly decide to give Julia the same dish I gave to Sharpe at the New Mexican. The Movie “Rent” was shooting the next day on the Plaza. She, looking kind of punk for an editor, just happens to be sitting outside talking to some dude.

“Hey, do you know a DeNiro movie “Rent” is being shot on the plaza tomorrow?” I ask.
She looks up, “No, I hadn’t heard that one.”
“Now you have.” I say without missing a beat.
It was the timing that got the smile from them. As I walked away I turned to Julia and yelled across the parking lot “I LOVE YOUR BLOG!”
“Your's is good.” She responsed.
“Yes, but your's has all that journalistic resources. I think the Governor knows about mine.”
I could see Julia’s face from a hundred feet away, it said what her voice said, “I bet.”

What was amazing about the encounter is that I had just publicly called Julia Goldberg, editor of the Reporter, in her own paper a fascist. Not to mention I thought that tag on her paper vending machines was appropriate…’MOSSAD.’
Julia is a pro. And both she and Steve Terrell are tough, cool and twisted.

Steve Terrell covers Fat Bill Richardson for the Santa Fe New Mexican newspaper. His actually beat is the Capitol or the ‘Roundhouse.’ He has a blog site, a music column and a radio show. Steve has been around a while and we have history.

Terrell is a reporter after my own heart. He doesn’t have much patience and when there is no news he just create some.
Terrell is very fond of saying I threatened to punch him in the nose twenty years ago for calling me a “gadfly.” But what he fails to mention is it was in an election campaign story and he listed that characterization as my occupation. Candidate so and so is an engineer; the incumbent so and so is a schoolteacher and perennial challenger John Coventry is a gadfly.
I don’t remember threatening Terrell but I do recall the letter I wrote accusing him of impersonating a Dipterologist, a fly expert. I think I started the letter with “No wonder everyone says Steve Terrell is such a dip.”

Like Julia Goldberg of the Reporter, Steve Terrell is tough, cool and even more fucking twisted.


Here is a reprint from the Republic de Santa Fe about Steve Terrell the reporter.




An Hour In The Life Of A Death

Steve Terrell, the portly veteran Santa Fe reporter, doesn’t usually cover the crime beat anymore except on Fridays, Daniel Chacon’s day off. On Fridays, the New Mexican has Terrell assigned to both courts and crime. So on that tragic Friday August 13th, as he arrived at the courthouse, it was ironic that it was yellow plastic crime scene tape that greeted him, from a newspaper’s point of view both fortuitous and fortunate.

Segura, Terrell, and Goldberg

Back at the New Mexican’s newsroom, listening to the police band radio was Bob Quick, business reporter. He Hears ‘Shot fired on Staab Street’ and says, “I’m going down there.”
The story breaks over KOB radio. ‘Associated Press says attorney Carlos Vigil was killed in what being called a drive-by shooting.’ The report said six shots were fired.

Coming upon the scene, Terrell sees Bob Quick, some new photographers, TV cameras, A.P. reporter Deb Baker, and many people he knows from the courthouse. For some reason, he asks one of the photographers, “What’s going on? The guy, who actually had taken bad wedding pictures for one of Steves notoriously bad marriages, says, “Some lawyer named Carlos was shot. Killed.”

Terrell was at the court to cover a hearing on controversial cases where Carlos Vigil was to be a defense attorney and there, a hundred feet down the sidewalk was his dead body. Terrell knew this victim; he knew all the shocked and numb people around him in the crowd and he knew he had to do his job.
All of a sudden there is a commotion. The family arrives. The poor dead man’s wife yells out, “Tell me it’s not my Carlos. Tell me it’s not my Carlos!” The television crews close in like sharks, surrounding and pushing in on her at his moment of grief.

Although the crowd, made up of the victim’s colleagues, friends and family were furious at the TV media people, and later an Albuquerque station broadcast the wife’s “actual screams” of horrid recognition, Steve Terrell was the first top defend his fellow new journalists. “They’re just doing their job,” he said. He pointed down to his yellow legal pad with notes in his own cryptic writing and as if in some kind of defense of the TV crew he said, “I’m glad this is my weapon.”

“He’s a war-horse,” reporter Miguel Narvot from the Journal North said of Terrell. “He’s been around for ever. He’s a professional and knows what he’s doing.” Miguel laughed and added, “But you know we journalist always cover each other’s asses.”

Captain Segura of the police gives a press briefing from behind te crime tape. Now much to his distaste, Terrell has to becomepart of “pack journalism; a group of reporters receiving the same information at the same time from the same person. He’s got to get his own sources and angle on this story.
Without talking to his editors, his superiors, Steve knows he has to cover the story from “the victim as a man” point of view. Who is he? At this point Terrell’s deep throat sources in the police department are not going to give him any leads; they don’t want to blow their own investigation.

Terrell starts to interview some of Carlos’ attorney friends; Bob Sena, Aaron Wolf, and Steve Farber. At one point Bob breaks down crying. There a poignant silence for a few seconds and in a quiet voice Terrell says, “I’m sorry to be bothering you at a time like this…”
“No, it’s OK.” Bob says, gathering his emotions.
Working with these people on a regular basis Terrell has an advantage over the other reporter, except for maybe the A.P. correspondent Deb Baker. She’s talking to D.A. Henry Valdez as Terrell starts to walk over to them. Maybe the D.A. didreally have to go check on something, but as soon as Steve called out,

“Henry, could I …”, The District Attorney turned to go back to his office, waving off Terrell’s request with, “I gotta…”

Now Terrell has to question people in the crowd but does not want to tip-off the competing journalist as to the direction of his story, so he does a little slipping away of his own. He tries to catch Judge Ellington or Assistant D.A. Angela ‘Spence’ Pacheco or prosecutor Robin Hammer alone, away from the other reporters.

After about an hour at the scene, Steve Terrell returned to the newsroom. He probably has a good twelve hours before the paper is put to bed. In fact, later that night, after filing his part of the story, he drives down to some God forsaken place like Rio Rancho chasing a false sighting of a possible suspect.

The 45-year-old Steve Terrell has been in the business of newsgathering for over twenty years. He has a reputation of using humor in all his writing; in his mock rock music, in his column and in his radio show. Fellow journalist Mark Hummels puts it this way: Terrell doesn’t make fun of people with his writing, he just quotes them making fun of themselves.”

Like the character Hawkeye Pierce of M.A.S.H. fame, Terrell’s humor is really anger turned sideways. For Steve Terrell. Reporter, it is needless to say, there was absolutely nothing funny about any part of covering this tragic story.

Thursday, June 16, 2005

Plaza continued: Found in the Trash.

The plaza vending program for the City of Santa is run by Sev Gurule.
It's a nasty little corrupt City progam that is nothing more than a scam.


So I'm talking to Frankie about the about the plaza and he asks me "How come your not selling your stuff out here?"
"Oh man, they rigged the thing to get rid of Carmelita and me. She won somekind of judgement...no money or anything, anyway Darlene Griego, the nazi Heldmeyer, and sweet Jeanie Price from planning stabbed me in the back...what a bunch of dykes. With the help of Sev who fixed the judging from behind closed doors. You know, I knew they wouldn't enjoy fucking me over if I let on I didn't care about selling out here so I pretended to really care and that made them work harder and really enjoy fucking me over. I'm here to please. Do you know Frankie that Sev was taking presents from the vendors and Romero made him give them back?'
"No I didn't know that." Frankie says.

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

Julia: Tough and Cool.

Walking down Marcy Street, going by the Reporter newspaper office on Marcy Street I suddenly decide to give Julia the same dish I gave to Sharpe at the New Mexican. The Movie “Rent” was shooting the next day on the Plaza. She, looking kind of punk for an editor, just happens to be sitting outside talking to some dude.
“Hey, do you know a DeNiro movie “Rent” is being shot on the plaza tomorrow?” I ask.
She looks up, “No, I hadn’t heard that one.”
“Now you have.” I say without missing a beat.
It was the timing that got the smile from them. As I walked away I turned to Julia and yell across the parking lot “I LOVE YOUR BLOG!”
“Yours is good.” She response.
“Yea, but yours has all that journalistic resources. But I think the Governor knows about mine.”
I could see Julia’s face from a hundred feet away, it said what her voice said, “I bet.”




A Potter who has lost his magic.

I ran into Earl Potter at the Post office.
“How come I can never get an attorney when I need one?” I asked.
Earl smiled in his hunched manner and said nothing trying to escape.
I would not let the guy get away. I talked while walking to his car “So I needed somebody to sue the City” I finished.
Earl finally said something, “I don’t do that anymore.”
“I know. Are you working with the Governor?” I ask.
The Democratic power broker Potter just couldn’t hide the glee in his voice “Yes, I am.”
“You know I started a blog site about him. I call it ‘Fat Bill and Me’. And you should…” Potter in now diving into his car trying to flee as I have to continue a little louder since potter is behind a glass windshield and backing his car out on to Federal Place. “You should go to Fat Bill and Me dot BLOGSPOT DOT COM!”
A diminishing Earl Potter voice is heard….”I not going to bother doing that.”

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Bad News Bill

By Miguel Vigil (Submitted: 06/14/2005 7:04 am )
Same old, same old for Old Bill. Political cronyism at it worst, someday political hacks like him will be called to account for naming poorly qualified judges without law degrees.

By John Coventry (Submitted: 06/14/2005 7:27 am )
When I tried to find out when and where my ward meeting was being held, no one had even a clue. But when you ask any Democratic Party insider or hack about getting a position on the Party’s Central Committee they just say “Ask Minnie.”

I guess that’s how Judges are appointed in Santa Fe, by asking Minnie Gallegos.

I heard Fat Bill on c-span talking about how divisive a certain person was, how this person should tone down his language, and how this person wasn’t really a leader. I thought the comments were about Bush but Governor Fat Fake was talking about Howard Dean.

Large Lard Richardson refused to criticize the war, torture or the killing of innocent children but he found it necessary to blast the f*** out of fellow Democrat Dean.

BIG government’s top pig in New Mexico said that the future of the Democratic party lies with a State Governor like himself; a so tax-cutting Governor. It made me sick.

Richardson is phony to the core. Whether it’s appointing well-placed incompetent Judges or selling-out his Party, our egomaniac Governor is bad news. He’s trouble and a supporter of the killing of kids in Iraq.

By Franco manning (Submitted: 06/14/2005 8:13 am )
John C: I'm still not clear on your opinion. Do you like Governor Richardson or not?

Monday, June 13, 2005

TV Bill: Ass-Kissing Slick

Plaza

Sunday morning and it rained last night. I like being on the Plaza before it is open for business. Frankie cleaning his tour bus, Martha Wright setting up her jewelry table, Roque just arriving with his carnitas stand and the Indians waiting in line for their daily lottery for a space to sell under the portal.
Walking by Martha I looked over at the Indians queued up and said, “Is that the line for communion?”
Her and her son James laughed and asked what trouble I was getting into. I told them I was starting a boycott of the 4Th of July Pancake Breakfast. This time they don’t laugh even though they get it.
Sometimes I say things for the people I’m talking to and sometimes for the people listening.
The United Way runs an annual pancake breakfast on the plaza that has slipped into what somebody must call…’Project Drift.’ That is, something that is small and good that slips into something big and scammy.
“I gonna go bother Frankie” I say to Martha.
“I thought you were going to bother Cliff.” She replies.
Cliff Mills, another plaza vendor wasn’t there yet but I laughed because I knew what she was talking. I knew about the big e-mail controversy and that Cliff being both a plaza vendor and a wanna-be City Council candidate had used the City’s email list of vendor to send out a post that said the City should abolish the program he was part of. I didn’t care but how did I know about it?
It is truly amazing what you find in the trash both electronicly and in real life garbage. In City Hall there are recycling bins and I having no qualms about dumpster diving find the most interesting documents. Like a complete print out of all city employees; their birthdates; their pay and date of hiring; their home address and their fucking Social Security Numbers. One time, in the recycling bin, I found all the applications for employment to be in the Department that no only had all the personal bio information but also included photocopies of the applicant’s driver licenses.
I had, before, made Frankie laugh when I explained how I had self restraint because I drew the line when it came to reading the un-opened Christmas cards he threw away in those bins when he was a City Councilor. He knew he had thrown the cards away and he I knew I had seen and not read them.
I love Frankie because he’ll always give me the official line. But talking to him is like talking to government…one should never talk to government unless you want to hear the word no or you want to be denied. That is your only right when it comes to dealing with government; the right to be refused in a timely manner.
It is when asking questions of government or Frankie that I get to tell them what they don’t know.
(continued)