A Bit of Personal Commentary: Part II

[AdSense-A]

By Seth H. Bramson

Last “issue” we discussed the nonsense regarding the slobbering sycophants who think having the anything but legitimate sportscasters in this town constantly refer to “your Miami Heat” or “your Miami Dolphins” or “your baseball (or hockey) team” is perfectly acceptable, when in truth and fact, it is anything but, and we went into detail in said last issue explaining that the only city in the country that can refer to its team as “our” is Green Bay. Further, I explained why, so I would suggest that, if you are interested or care to, you revisit said piece.

I closed that column with a short paragraph on our plan to—in the next issue, which is this one—express my annoyance/distress/disgust with and about the faux television anything but broadcasters and nothing but talking heads in this town. And that—talking heads—is all they are, and that, dear friends, is nothing but shameful. Nothing but.

If you grew up here in the once magic city then you might remember the greatness of many of our local broadcast personalities, beginning with the greatest of all, Ralph Renick. Others included Del Frank, Noah Tyler, John Hambrick, Wayne Fariss, Ann Bishop and Dwight Lauderdale, but, and unfortunately, the stupidity of the “consultants” (who knew less than nothing about how and the way newscasts should be made) has literally destroyed the concept and idea of putting forth news in a serious—and thereby valid—manner. In other words, if I want an entertainment show I can watch (I don’t, but I can) “Entertainment Tonight” or some other sickening, butt-kissing of celebrities program featuring (as our friend, Adam Rogers likes to say) “professional famous people.”

However, I don’t watch the news to find out what that sickening, revolting, talentless, worthless group of people who have never, ever, in their lives, done anything positive for anybody but themselves, the Kardashians, are doing today or yesterday or any other day.

As noted, I really don’t care if they are on the various entertainment shows but having them featured on the front page of our once but no longer “great metropolitan newspaper,” the local mullet wrapper, is sickening and disgusting. (I would go into other examples [in sports, for example] but don’t want to have my tires flattened or my windows broken and I know what meshugginehs so many of Miami’s sportsholes are) Of course, having news programs on the various Miami local stations, whether English or Espanol, telling us who is divorcing who and/or who is having an affair with who or who broke up or who is pregnant is (to me—remember, this is my column on the great Mr. Berkwitt’s blog) nauseating, distressing and disgusting.

But, and as the great expression goes, “whaddo I know?” I only grew up with some of the greatest broadcasters of all time, they here in Miami and at the level of New York’s Chuck Scarborough and Pia Lindstrom. Ms. Lindstrom, incidentally, for those of you who are not aware, is Ingrid Bergman’s daughter, and a woman who was (I used to watch here when I ran the New York Gaslight Club in the mid-1970s) nothing short of stunning. Most importantly, she was a newscaster, totally opposite of what we have today in America as local talking heads on most (all?) of America’s local television stations.

And, shamefully, what do we have today on many, too many stations, including the local outlets, 4/6/7/10/51? For the most part, not all, but most, with even Laurie Jennings having fallen into the trap, a bunch of giggling, cackling, shrieking, near hysterical and totally shameful broadcast journalism (they are anything but “journalists”) anything but professionals.

The back and forth silliness, with the disgusting and meaningless banter, along with the guffawing and totally gnarishkeit (Yiddish: silly; stupid; inane; moronic) comments having nothing to do with—nothing at all—the news make me want to hurl. (Which I would do but then I would have to clean it up myself.)

Now, of course, you are prepared to chastise me, and ask me if I could do better, and the answer, of course and unquestionably I, “absolutely, positootly.” If any of you have ever been present at any of my thirteen different talks on South Florida local and Florida transportation history you well know that I have “the voice.”

And just so you don’t think that I have a self-inflated impression of myself I will share with you that, after Channel Two here in Myamuh did their one hour special in 2012 for the Centennial of the Florida East Coast Railway’s Key West Extension (the greatest railroad engineering and construction feat in U. S.—and, possibly, world—history), which was titled “Henry Flagler and The Florida Keys Oversea Railroad” which mostly used memorabilia from The Bramson Archive as background and on which I was the single most frequent on-air personality, I was told by a good few people that, “Seth, you know, it really is true…you really do have a face…that’s made for…radio!”

And so with that dear friends, we will conclude this exciting discussion, promising you that, shortly, we will return to history although it is possible, if not likely that, in the next round, we will lay out a scathing—utterly scathing but totally factual—denunciation of the total stupidity, moronocity and totally ridiculous and completely nonsensical idea of building an amusement park device—called a monorail—from Miami to Miami Beach or, even worse, to connect Dade and Broward Counties. (But I can see the politicos eyes—even at this distance—gleaming over the hugeness of the payoffs, at least at the level of, if not more than what they got from the destruction of our beloved Orange Bowl and the building of the monstrosity that replaced it.)

Till then, my friends, mi amigos, mes amis, and as we would say in Monaco, “arrivederci.” Stay well, be good to each other, avoid the sun as best you can and until we meet again shortly, “hasta la bye-bye!”

[si-contact-form form=’2′]