22 April 2014

Yet another reason I despise newspapers.

Last week, the Mississauga News ran an on line story about my mother.  I am not linking to that story, because it is a piece of crap.

Here is my story about mother, and how she tries to help grieving families by painting portraits of their lost ones and sending them- free- to the family.  I believed that the most important part of the story is that mother tries to help, and uses her talents to try and give comfort to those who grieve and those who mourn.  The reporter the newspaper sent listened to mother's story and decided the most important part was that she was old.  It tells her age (she hated that.  She's of the opinion it is nobody's business how old she is) and marvels that she is still active, still has her faculties, that she grew up in an era where people were born in their parents' houses (pointing out that, in her case, mom still lives in the house where she was born) and raised chickens in the backyard.  Isn't it quaint this old fossil is still among us?  He got his facts wrong on several items (he has mom claiming she has painted over 300 portraits, when she and we know the number is in excess of a thousand, and possibly close to two.

Fascinating.  You know, every single time, without exception, that I have read a story in a newspaper about which I happened to know something, or which fell under one of my areas of expertise, the story got it wrong.  Every single time.  Without exception.  I have reached the conclusion that they get it wrong all the other times as well.

Newspapers.  good for fish wrap, cage lining, starting a bonfire, and handy in the event of a toilet paper shortage.  Anything else, not so much.

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