An indulgent, overdue and final farewell
On his last day with the Mail, deputy editor Alan Clarke takes a light look back on 40 years in the media.
Writing an obit can be daunting, especially if it’s your own. In weighing relevance and potential reader interest, as any good sub-editor must, there seems precious little material to work with, predating by some years Generations X, Y, Z or N for narcissistic as I do.
But to mark my last day in the media industry, the editor has asked for an exit column. And what editors want, editors get.
The one word that best summarises the past four-plus decades is change.
In not much more than the blink of an eye we’ve gone from pigeons – yes, they were used by my first paper, The Southland Times, in reporting a Foveaux Strait swim crossing in 1971 – to the instant global communication tools so ingrained today.
The industry has morphed from production-heavy, hierarchical, institutional licences to print money into lean, nimble, increasingly formless occupants of cyber-space.
One task I had with the Mail was to help our editorial staff make the transition from typewriters to computers – some had never touched one.
The media evolution has been relentless throughout my 43-year involvement. What’s more, it has picked up pace exponentially, decade to decade.
And though our corporate focus is increasingly ‘‘online’’, with Fairfax NZ audience-share already huge and growing by the day, as a lead-type dinosaur I take heart from the global swing back to books and away from tablets as a sign that perhaps publishing is not dead and buried.
The obituary for newspapers is not needed, though no doubt change in the industry will continue unabated. However, the thought of a region like Nelson without a daily rag – or at least a credible, questioning, independent, regular print publication – is simply not tenable. Not yet.
As I pause at the back door with my key handed in and work email address shut down, please allow me a moment to wallow. Just a little.
Rather than a scholarly dissertation about the media, past, present and future, a light touch seems more appropriate. Some fun moments:
Climbing into the top floor ceiling at the Times late one evening, after a beer or three, to turn off the lift at the master switch – and then racing back to work early next day to be met by a not-best-pleased managing director.
Placing a death notice for my little black Morris 8 called Lizzy, which gave up the ghost near Queenstown. The newspaper brought in new rules for family announcements after an inquiry, sparked by a reader who called the paper to ask where the funeral for Elizabeth ‘‘Lizzie’’ Clarke (‘‘funeral notice later’’) was to be held, as he wished to attend.
Waking Rob Muldoon by phone one morning during the summer holiday with perhaps the most inane question ever asked of a prime minister. He’d enjoyed comparing himself to a champion racehorse of the day, named Noodlum [Muldoon backwards], which had just broken down. My news editor at the Christchurch Star – a then daily paper notable for its running battles with the PM – assigned me to phone Rob to ask if he saw his own career going the same way. To his credit, Muldoon paused, chuckled loud and long, and gave a very quotable answer. Before hanging up he remarked that few journos would have the guts to wake him for something so banal.
Quoting one-time ‘‘colourful’’ Invercargill MPNorm Jones, who admitted to me during my first year as a cadet reporter that his primary aim in seeking a
Before hanging up he [Muldoon] remarked that few journos would have the guts to wake him for something so banal.
third term was to secure the lifelong perks that milestone would bring. He angrily told the editor he’d like to sue but I’d clearly taped him. In fact, it was just down to hurried notes and a (then) excellent memory – no tape recorder involved.
The real highlight has been simply to have a very small role in the wonderful community of Nelson. Bringing a young family here 30 years ago, seeking sun and the great outdoors, it never occurred to me that it would be any more than another step along the career path, a two-year stay at best. As it has turned out, I’ve clocked up more than three decades here and have no intention of leaving.
Nelson seems to me a magnet for people who recognise the important things in life. One great thing about journalism is the access it brings to so many people: inspiring, creative, driven, flawed. And then there is the wonderful uncertainty about what each day will bring.
In saying that, I also anticipate eagerly a change of pace – the opportunity to recalibrate my life while I still have energy, passion and drive. So. End of chapter. Well, quite a few chapters. But not end of story. A new challenge awaits, in oil and canvas rather than newsprint and mobile devices. See you down Bridge St, maybe next week.