Joel Frey

Missing the news cycle

As a PR professional, my cohorts and I are constantly assessing the "news cycle." As it ebbs and flows from important and not-s0-important happenings and events, it factors into our discussions and planning everyday. Weather, politics, war, terrorism, and the economy are just a few of the topics that we compete against in our never-ending efforts to get journalists, news producers, bloggers and social media mavens to consider Travelocity for inclusion in a story, segment, post or Tweet.

As you read the rest of this, note that I've decidedly missed the news cycle on the 10th anniversary of 9/11. My plan was to follow the status quo and share my observations on that Sunday, but other priorities at work, home and church won out. Now, 10 days later,  the seasons are set to change and we have moved on to more pressing matters: taxing millionaires, airshow safety, the 2012 election, conference realignment and the latest iteration of everyone's favorite social network, to name a few. Though in the grand scheme, we likely won't reflect upon any of these topics 10 years from now.

As Sept. 11, 2011 came and went, I was surprised by own memories that surfaced. For example,  I vividly recalled the tennis match I played the evening before the tragedy. It was a long three setter against a guy named Sam who I had never beaten. We played to a third set tiebreak and I had a match point, but couldn't cash it in. When I woke up on 9/11/01, my defeat was the first thought that popped into my head.

I remembered the fall boots my colleague Judy Haveson wore to work and how she paced nervously up and down the hallway as the tragedy unfolded, anxiety covering her face. She was only days away from moving from Texas to New York and, suddenly, all of her plans were in doubt. But a month later, as the nation healed, Judy was in the stands at Yankee Stadium cheering on the Bronx Bombers as they valiantly tried to win the World Series. Today, she's still a proud New Yorker and mother to Jack, her own little Yankee fan.

I thought about Pastor John Koelpin and the special service I attended at Calvary Lutheran Church. For a few weeks after the towers collapsed, worship and prayer were in vogue. Then, predictably, our post modern sensibilites awoke from their slumber and carried on as before.  Today I live in El Paso, a married man. On the 10th anniversary, Heather and I sat in a pew at Trinity Lutheran Lutheran Church while Pastor Koelpin still preached from the pulpit of Calvary. His oldest son, Philip and our daughter Megan are now classmates at Texas A&M. In the fall of 2001, they were innocent kids, probably wondering what their parents were so worried about.

I remembered the first flight I took post 9/11, an hourlong hop from Dallas to Memphis on American Airlines. Not only was I nervous, I found myself sizing up my fellow passengers before we boarded.  After safely arriving to my hometown and having breakfast with my parents, I drove to Oxford, MS and cheered on Middle Tennessee State, my alma mater, as they took the field against the University of Mississippi, led by their All-American quarterback, Eli Manning. Fast forward to the present and he is the quarterback for the New York Giants and commercial airlines have taken me to countless places near and far, including LaGuardia, Newark and JFK.

Thanks for indulging my utter disregard for the 9/11 news cycle. I look forward to writing about more subjects that were yesterday's news as soon as the opportunity presents itself. If you have any thoughts, please share.  Cheers, ya'll.

 

 

Movie review - The King's Speech

First, I can say with conviction that "The King's Speech" is worthy of its Best Picture nomination and that Colin Firth, Geoffrey Rush and Helena Bonham Carter all earned their walks on the red carpet next month.

If you're thinking about seeing it though Heather and I would advise not eating a steak dinner early in the evening and then taking in a later show - especially on a Friday following a draining work week. We were alive and kicking when we arrived to the theatre for the 10:25, but that was still an hour before our normal bedtime and we had each drained a Starbucks after leaving the restaurant. Once the clock crept past midnight, however, our eyes started getting heavy. With about 15 minutes left, Heather asked, "Is it almost over?" I assured her that it was and we rallied for the climactic scene.

So, as is common of any British historical piece, the pace of "The King's Speech" is slow and drawn out in places.  But the storyline - King George VI (Firth) reluctantly taking the throne from his loser brother King Edward VIII (Guy Pearce) and how he overcame his phobia of public speaking thanks to his wife (Bonham Carter) seeking the help of eccentric speech therapist Lionel Loge (Rush) - is solid and fairly easy to follow.

The film is propelled by the outstanding performances of Firth and Rush. The duo's give-and-take was at its finest in Loge's office as therapist and patient worked through not only the King's stammer, but other deep-seeded psychological issues that he had dealt with his entire life. Here the audience is given insights into what it's like bearing the burden of being part of the Royal family, however symbolic their roles may be.

If you're interested in learning more check out this interview with Geoffrey Rush. We saw the video that accompanied it on CBS Sunday Morning.

 

 

1/28/86

Where were you on January 28, 1986? I was a sixth grader attending A.A. Songy Middle School in Luling, La. Shortly after lunch, I was sitting in a portable classroom getting ready for a French lesson when our teacher told us about the Space Shuttle Challenger exploding. As was the case for millions of Americans that day, time froze for a minute or two. Once the harrowing fact she shared sunk in a few of us wondered out loud, "Wasn't the teacher on board?" Eventually, a TV was rolled into the library and we saw the tragedy unfold for the first time before boarding the yellow bus home.

Later that evening, my mom, dad, sister and I gathered in our living room on Bernice Drive and sought reassurance from President Reagan. We watched the countless replays of the disaster over and over and over again. Twenty-five years later, those images - the fireball, the solid rocket boosters flailing away, the horrified crowd in the bleachers below - still resonate, along with the fateful quote "obviously, we have a major malfunction." At some point, way past our regular 9:00 p.m. bedtime, Dad turned the TV off and my sister and I headed upstairs and got ready for bed, knowing that we'd never forget this day.

The next morning, my classmates and I huddled around our science teacher, Mrs. Walker. The floor was open and our inquisitive eleven-year-old minds were fully in motion. "Would the Space Shuttle ever launch again?" "Did the astronauts die right away?" "Will they let another teacher go into space?" were a sampling of the questions that crossed our lips. Mrs. Walker didn't have many concrete answers, but it was reassuring to have her guide us through such a seminal moment.

Those are my Challenger memories. What are yours?