I just cleaned out my e-mail inbox.

An hour ago I had 397 unread e-mails. Right now? I have zero.

The e-mail notifier at the top of my screen is grayed out. None of the e-mails in my inbox are in bold. For the first time in at least a year, I have no unread e-mails to attend to when I have time. You have no idea how liberating this feels.

Although I still have 2,364 messages in my inbox, I have set up some new filters and labels to help manage the incoming mail. Over the next few days, I’m going to try and archive most of the mail, sort it, delete what’s unnecessary, reduce the number of items in my inbox and generally wipe the inbox clean.

The problem with having essentially unlimited e-mail space courtesy of GMail is that there is no incentive to keep it tidy. I want to reverse this and keep it even more organized than I do now (which with about 20 filters is still pretty organized). Perhaps my new years resolution can be keeping my inbox organized. Of course, not receiving about 100 e-mails a day from Stater listservs, editors, reporters, sources, etc. should help a bit.

Of course, there is also something depressing about having an empty inbox.

I was reading an article on NYTimes.com when I noticed something at the end that piqued my interest:

The PD public editor discusses some of the uncalled for comments readers leave him and other reporters in his column today (as seen on Romenesko).

I will never forget the first time I took one of these calls. I didn’t even know what to say except to thank the caller. They teach you a lot of things in j-school, but dealing with angry callers is not one of them.

It was the summer between sophomore and junior year, which I spent as managing editor of the Stater while taking feature writing to justify my not taking an internship. I was in the newsroom at the ungodly hour of 8 a.m. (it was summer and I commuted 20 minutes) polishing my feature writing story before our 8:30 a.m. class. That’s when the call came in… 8 a.m. on a Wednesday.

The entire purpose of the call was to inform me that we had misspelled received in a headline. Yeah. She called just to tell us we misspelled a word. Then she admonished me, “FIFTH graders know how to spell received,” and went on to ask “Don’t you have spell check?” I explained yes, and headlines are among the last steps in the design process before spell check. And she went on, “Well, OBVIOUSLY, someone didn’t do their job.” *dies* What do you say to that? I put on my most professional voice and demeanor and said simply, “Thank for bringing it to my attention. I’ll look into it.”

While embarassing to have a misspelled word let alone a headline, I have to wonder if it was necessary to call first thing in the morning to point it out? I still don’t know why someone would feel the need to call about it in the first place. It’s not like we’re going to run a correction for a misspelled word.

But still, as far as I know, nobody ever called and left ridiculous messages about people’s headshots (a la Kim Crow at the PD). Although, there are a few “I hate thus&so from the Daily Kent Stater” facebook groups aimed at columnists, etc. Mostly, I guess we’re just developing our thick skin, and sometimes it is kind of funny the things that set people off.

… and you better believe we never misspelled received again under my watch.

As an “up-and-coming” journalist, I often look at the media world today and am in awe of the amazing things happening out there. I’m always struck by how people end up where they do, how hard work pays off and how much things have changed just in my lifetime. I’m also impressed by the variety of different methods people and news organizations are taking to try and keep up with the Internet revolution.

They say that things are changing now faster than ever. It’s true. A decade ago, the Internet was for nerds and businessmen. In high school, I was the weird one because I had an e-mail address and AIM when none of my friends did. I was one of the first with my own cell phone, which didn’t even have a color screen. By college, that had mostly changed and most people I knew had computers, cell phones, etc. Now, many of my peers have laptops, camera phones with the Internet and video iPods. This is all in a few years.

I often joke that I majored in something that won’t exist in a decade. It’s true. Newspapers on paper are on their way out. Will they entirely disappear? I’m not ready to make that prediction. I hope not. But even if they do, there’s always going to be a need for people to connect the dots, for someone with courage and know-how to uncover wrongs or share inspiring triumphs with the world. There will ALWAYS be a need for journalists committed to finding and producing the stories that matter. There’s always going to be a need to know by the public. That’s what our job is, right? Getting the information people want and need to live a healthy, happy, productive life. Getting them the facts about their world so they can make informed decisions and draw their own conclusions. Newspapers as a medium may become irrelevant, but reporters and editors with solid reputations and ethics will only be more necessary as the public tries to wade fact from fiction and sort through the ever-growing expanse of information available.

The challenge today isn’t getting that information. The challenge is finding out how people want to retrieve it and providing them with it in engaging ways that make the story matter to them. I don’t look at the Internet, cell phones, iPods, etc. as competitors. I think they’re opportunities to tell stories in ways we never imagined before.

Who knows what method will be in vogue in a year or a decade? Certainly I don’t. But I know who I’m going to watch for hints. It’s going to be the 20 under 40 on this list, who have already proven themselves adaptable and innovative, who are committed to excellence and not afraid of a challenge. Maybe, if I’m lucky, I’ll be one of those who gets to help shape and sort out the industry’s future. That future, after all, is my future.

Perhaps it’s because my family is so big (my parents both have lots of siblings and lots of children), or maybe it’s because we all like to talk — a lot… But we have some interesting and hilarious discussions. To hit a few points of conversation at last night’s Christmas Eve gathering and tonight’s Christmas gathering:

• Internet dating tips from my 40-something uncles, including “Don’t even consider anyone without a picture,” “If they’re obstructed by a peice of furniture, don’t waste your time,” “There’s something wrong if they’re waaaaay in the background, and you just see a tiny dot,” “Always meet for coffee or drinks during the day… Meeting for dinner is just asking for trouble,” “Anyone with like 20 photos of themselves thinks they’re hot stuff…,” “Everybody lies,” and more.
• Spanish lessons for the whole family from Brandiann, including apparently saying “Yo” as in “Yo tengo” or “Yo necessito” or “Yo anything” only serves to emphasis the “I”. It’s redundant/unnecessary. It also makes you sound self-centered.
• The finer points of Spanish insults from Brandiann and my dad (who picked up some terminology during his stint many years ago driving cab in Southern California). Since you couldn’t be there, I’ll point you to the comment left by my sister a few weeks back.
• The trade secrets of selling meat from a truck, courtesy of my little brother. Need I say more?
• My younger cousin telling us that apparently if you shoplift from Wal-Mart and the value of the items is less than $25, you get to keep it. I don’t think I’d take my chances, but the discussion prompted by this kept us laughing.
• Now that the youngest “kid” among the cousins is well into high school, we have resigned ourselves to the kitchen kids table, leaving — for once — empty seats at the adults table in the dining room.

That’s just a sampling of the random conversations that occurred. Also, much discussion focused on my career/job prospects, my cousin’s new camera (which I literally spotted from across the room with my innate “new technology sensor”), and teaching my grandpa to use his new DVD player.

Tomorrow is our annual “Christmas Dinner” at Papa Joe’s in the valley. That means three consecutive nights with the extended family. But it’s fun, especially this year as I realize soon I won’t be able to attend our regular Sunday night dinners. (Not that I made many this year because I worked from about noon to 2 a.m. on Sunday’s supervising the Stater.) Nor will I make it home for every Easter, Mother’s Day, Thanksgiving, etc. holiday to see them as often as I do now. So it’s nice to kind of round out the year spending lots of time with them.

I just hope I don’t make a repeat of the year before last, when I had to leave to go to the emergency room for stitches because I, apparently, can’t cut a roll. I still have the scar on my finger.

The cutest thing happened last night/this morning.

I got up to go to the bathroom at about 5 a.m. I walked past my nephews’ room and noticed the light was on. I chuckled but walked on. Then, my 11-year-old nephew (who claims to be too big to believe in Santa) cracks the door and in the cutest, most innocent voice goes: “Santa?!” It was adorable.

Apparently, he and my 7-year-old nephew had both been up since 3 a.m. Now, my little brother used to wake every one of us kids up bright and early on Christmas, but we usually at least waited until dawn.

As a side note, it doesn’t even feel like Christmas when there’s no snow on the ground. This is Ohio. Where’s the snow? The weather gods couldn’t even humor me enough to have snowflakes fall and melt on impact. Nope, it’s just any other dreary December day outside. I may be the only person, but I happen to like the snow. So this is a major bummer.

My nephews, who both received shiny new bikes this morning, would probably disagree. Most years, when you get a bike for Christmas, you have to wait four months to use it. Not today. Within half an hour they were out riding around. (That was before they lost interest in it and moved on to another new toy.)

As for me, I have a few gift cards and several new books. I now have at least two dozen books waiting to be read. (Mostly they were from this semester when I bought them but didn’t have time to read anything, but I’ve added at least half a dozen in the last week.) Oh, and one of those gift cards is to Borders, where I’m sure I’ll promptly add more books to my queue.

Merry Christmas.

I came across an article, A Primer on Electronic Communication, at Inside Higher Ed that discusses basically the way you should approach professors when making first contact with them. From some stories I did this summer where I needed expert advice from academia, I don’t think I did too bad following the general guidelines. Also, I think these guidlines are worth remembering for anyone you contact:

• Write a clear and descriptive subject line.
• Address the person politely.
• State your reason for contact.
• Introduce yourself.
• Explain what you have already done.
• Restate your question, elaborate if necessary.
• Say thank you and sign off with a formal signature.
• Read your letter.
• Get in touch again in a week if you receive no response.
• Think about the larger context.

Seems like a few universals for e-mail professionalism, especially when contacting potential sources.

So, as some may recall, I previously posted about why nobody would buy an MXZ saw because nobody sits around thinking, “If only I could cut through that cinderblock.”

Well, apparently, I’m wrong.

I checked the stats on this site today and saw one of my refers was a Google search. The words entered? how to cut cinderblock. LOL.

What would you think if you were driving down the street and saw this guy hunched over a few inches off the ground, moving his head across the pavement while spewing water on the ground?

You’d probably think, “What the hell? This is why I live in the suburbs.”

Or, you could think, wow, it’s a cool new trend called “spit art.” Somehow, I don’t think it will catch on. But even so, you do have to admit, though gross, it is kind of impressive.

So, as I previously blogged about the NY Times ongoing series American Album, this MSNBC multimedia project (Vanishing Americana) is another reminder of the power journalists have to tell the untold or un-thought about stories. Seriously, when was the last time you considered the average age of barbers? (It’s 57.) And did you even know that milkmen still exist? (I didn’t.)

It’s something to think about. I like the idea behind this package/series in that MSNBC is taking a look at cultural icons everyone knows and many identify with and holding up a mirror to ask, well, whatever happened to?

It could be an interesting project for any newsroom. Either a quick and dirty 10-inch ditty on the topic/person or something more. (It seems MSNBC did both. Though, there’s no real explaination why.) Maybe a day-in-the-life-of for several different jobs or people or places? (Full disclosure: For feature writing a few summers back, I spent 12 hours riding around in 90+ degree weather on an ice cream truck. It sucked. But the story turned out to be pretty humorous and the reporting experience was something worth doing. Would I do it again? Probably, but I’d rather take on the day in the life of something entirely new.)