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By the time you read this, it'll probably either be time for the big FCC decision, and because I've been doing a lot of the background work on All Access' coverage, I'm going to be brief here. (As always, the opinions expressed here are my own, and are not intended to represent the opinion of All Access or anyone else, for that matter. Just me, and you know what THAT's worth.) I originally wrote a long, detailed column about deregulation and consolidation, but I'll save you the agony of reading it by summarizing my reaction to this whole thing:

1. These new rules will change nothing. Radio ownership will stay the same, pretty much, and the TV changes only make official what's existed for years. Newspapers already own TV stations in the same market, or did I dream that Tribune owns the L.A. Times and KTLA, among many other examples, both grandfathered and new? (And who reads newspapers anymore, anyway? People are acting as if newspapers wield infinite power- they can't even get someone elected dog catcher anymore) Companies already have duopolies and triopolies in TV. Every town in America has a multitude of available media voices, and the Net makes the number almost infinite.

2. Pre-consolidation radio and TV sounded and looked a lot like what we have now, except for fewer radio formats. The playlists were just as tight. News on radio was nearly nonexistent on many stations in the 80's and 90's- there's more available now.

3. The downside is employment- fewer jobs. But if you're good, you'll find a job. If you can't, see Thursday's column.

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Fantagraphics is in financial trouble, and that's going to be meaningless to most people. And I suppose what they do is not all that important for you to know- they publish some great alternacomics, including the amazing Chris Ware's stuff and Daniel Clowes and Peter Bagge and much more, but those names may be meaningless to you. The company says it ran into trouble for various reasons related to their inattentiveness to the niceties of business, and when I saw that, I had to laugh.

About a year or two ago, I needed to order some of Fantagraphics' books for gifts, and their web site wasn't working, so I called them. The woman who answered sounded put out that I wanted a catalog.

"Uh, Fantagraphics."

"Yeah, hi, I need a catalog."

"What?"

"I need a catalog."

"Um, catalog."

"Yeah. Can you send me one?"

"YOU? Want a catalog?"

"Yeah."

"Why do YOU... all right, what's your address?"

It was like trying to get past the velvet rope at SkyBar. Maybe retailers on Melrose or Rodeo can pull off the attitude sale, but this was a comic book company. It was worse than Comic Book Guy sneering at the kids paging through Radioactive Man #27. It was actively refusing to sell to someone they thought wasn't worthy. And then they get stuck with a warehouse full of second-tier comics and they can't figure out why.

I never did get the catalog. They never got the sale. Think they'll ever connect the dots?

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We voted today. There was only one thing on the ballot, a yes-or-no question, which made things nice and easy, as long as you made sure the chads weren't hanging (we still have punchcard voting here). Normally, I'd skip these mini-votes, because it's usually selecting a water commission chairman or something like that, and I know nothing about those jobs and those people. This one was different, a choice that I just had to make sure I didn't miss.

I went to vote the school tax down.

You have to understand something about this- I'm the son of a career educator, a public school principal, no less. I understand the need for public education, and, having grown up in a union household, I'm not wholly unsympathetic to the cause. I remember the way my town's school budget never passed, how they'd bus the retirees in from the nursing homes to make sure they voted, because everyone knew they'd not want to spend a dime on those whippersnappers. I remember being annoyed- don't they realize that I'M THE FUTURE?!? How DARE they endanger my future!

And then, I grew up. As time went on, I realized that for every dedicated public educator like my father, there were plenty of hacks leeching off the school system, protected by tenure and a system that made it impossible to tear away that cloak of invincibility. I realized that school systems and governments had no accountability at all for the money they spent, that they could pretty much waste any amount of money and nobody would say a thing. I realized that countless programs- bilingual education, "head start," free meals- were complete failures in accomplishing their intended goals and, in the case of bilingual ed, may in fact have the opposite effect, but instead provided political appointees with accountability-free patronage jobs for life. And I realized I've turned into one of those cranky old farts squeezing his precious pennies in his wrinkled fist as he shakes it towards the heavens vowing never to let go, not if it's only going to help those ungrateful little bastards who don't appreciate the sacrifices their elders made for them.

I voted "no." Let the little bastards' parents pay for it, not me. Just leave me in peace with my money and my "Diagnosis: Murder" reruns on the TV. Now, where did I put that AARP application?

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Update: the school tax passed, with over 70% of the vote. Whaddya gonna do?...

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Kinda backed up again. That happens. Just a couple of things: 1) Martha Stewart gets indicted, quits, and I cannot think of a single reason to care. So I don't. I also cannot for the life of me think of a single reason for anyone but her investors and her family to care. Then again, I don't subscribe to "Us Weekly." 2) Finally saw the documentary "Comedian," which is highly recommended. I'll tell you more about that tomorrow. Right now, I'm too tired to even post a picture.

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As I noted yesterday, I got around to watching the movie "Comedian" last night, and, as I said, it is highly recommended. I've worked with several stand-up comics, and the intensity, the insecurity, the ego, the need to perform and be loved while simultaneously feeling unworthy are all there. It's a fascinating look at the people who choose that life, if you're into it. And, yes, it has Jerry Seinfeld all over it, but you'll be more fascinated with Orny Adams. Trust me on that.

Anyway, the movie reminded me of something I want to tell those of you whose job it is to talk on the radio. (That's a large percentage of this column's audience; the rest of you, please bear with me. Thanks. And while everything you'll read here reflects my own thoughts, I do want to acknowledge Walter Sabo for, in a different way, making similar points in his convention and seminar presentations- if you see his name on a meeting agenda, go see him)

In the movie, the comics, to a man, carry around notes- in Orny Adams' case, he has a full library and several file drawers' worth of meticulously detailed joke material. They shuffle nervously before performing, running through their 20 minute routine in their minds, fretting about forgetting something- Seinfeld is shown completely losing his place on stage and coming to an embarrassing silence. New material is considered poison, and the rule is that you never, ever, ever open your set with the new stuff. Any changes throw the whole performance off, which is immaterial, since they are never happy with their performances. All of this angst is generated by a 20 minute routine their audience will forget shortly after the last drink is served.

If you talk on the radio, you do two, three, four hours a day of original material. You don't have the luxury of rehearsal. There's no script, and your notes aren't from a stockpile of tested material, but rather have been scribbled hurriedly in the hour or two before showtime. You have nothing BUT new stuff- you open with new stuff, do new stuff for your whole show, close with new stuff. You are charged with entertaining people for that entire time, informing them, keeping them happy, yet, other than those phone calls, you get no feedback from the audience, no laughter when you're funny and groaning when you're not, no way to judge whether what you're doing is working.

In short, your job is about a hundred times more difficult than any comedian or actor can ever dream of doing. You have to do the impossible every single day. Yet, somehow, you do it. You come up with that original material, a new angle on things, another outrageous comment, another impromptu riff on news that's breaking while you're on the air.

They don't make movies following a radio host around like they did for "Comedian." Your job isn't visual, isn't Hollywood enough. But when it's done right- when you do it- the talk radio show is the single most impressive feat in the entertainment industry. It's live, extemporaneous, improvised entertainment around the clock. It's amazing. And it's you.

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It was raining this morning, courtesy of the "June Gloom" that makes Los Angeles such a joy this time of year. It started before 5, that much I know- it was coming down in a misty drizzle when I woke up. That means there was no excuse for the Los Angeles Times carrier to throw today's paper onto the driveway without bagging it in plastic. (The Daily Breeze carrier was more prepared for the weather- that paper was double-bagged) I had to peel the Times off the driveway and call the paper for a replacement copy.

The cheery voice on the Times' automated system told me that a fresh, dry copy would be delivered within 45 minutes, and if it didn't come, I should call again. Two hours later, no paper.

I called again, got a live operator who apologized and said a copy would absolutely be there in 45 minutes. 45 minutes, no paper.

I called again. Another live operator, now faced with an irate customer who really wanted a paper and a credit for not seeing fit to deliver a copy before half the day was gone. OK, he said, credit and paper. 45 minutes. No problem. 45 minutes later, no paper.

By now, I was not going to accept the 45 minutes thing. The first CSR I got didn't know what to do, frankly- he passed me onto a supervisor, who sounded really, really young, and just kept offering to send a message to the regional agent- the guy who was supposed to deliver the replacement copy and ignored three requests to do so- to call me. I explained that this would be futile since I would be waiting for a call from the same guy who'd been ignoring my requests all day. This confused the CSR supervisor. I said that I'd been a subscriber for 8 years and I had had about enough, and they were flirting with losing me as a customer. I told him that just sending a message to the agent wasn't going to cut it, and I expected them to show me some action, like calling the agent with me still on the line so I could be sure to get him and find out what the hell happened to my paper. I also asked what would be done to the agent for refusing to do his job. This confused the guy even more- he said something about there being nothing in the procedures allowing a direct call to the agent, he wouldn't give me the number, he pointed out that they have a lot of customers (as if I'd care about the other 999,000 customers), he offered a week's credit- big deal, four bucks- but couldn't figure out what to do except to send me to ANOTHER supervisor, who told me that, well, you're not going to get a paper and there was nothing they could do about it.

"So you're going to blow off a customer, a guy who's faithfully subscribed for eight years? Your agent refuses to service a customer, and there's nothing you can do?"

"Uh, yes."

And they have a point. Where am I gonna go? There's only one major paper in the market. I can't get delivery of the Register or the Daily News or the Press-Telegram, and the Daily Breeze is just the local paper. The Times is a monopoly. I have no choice...

...except for hundreds, even thousands, of web sites. The news is fresher, I can get opinion columns without having to face Robert Scheer's absurdity, I can get "Get Fuzzy" delivered to my e-mail in-box, I get the TV listings and movie times on my PDA phone. I can even get the entire content of the Times without the quarter-page cell phone ads. Epiphany! I don't need the Los Angeles Times! I'm free! Free, I tell you!

But I still like the hard copy paper. I LIKE the ads, the portability, the feel. I want it. So it's either put up with lousy monopoly service or do without. And I can't do without. Don't tell the Times- I don't want them to take advantage of me. Not that they aren't already.

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Can't post much tonight- took Fran to the theater, which is where I am right now, waiting for "The Producers" to start. Later.

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