Where's my job? Where's my award?

DanO, interesting you mention that. The year I won my state award at Paper A, something like three of the award winners had moved on. The story in Paper A the next day quoted the ME (not the one who wouldn't let me have my plaque) as saying, "We knew these people were rising stars when we hired them so it's no surprise they've gone on to make their mark elsewhere."

Let's see, the photog took a job at his hometown paper for a lateral move, the other sports guy quit to try his hand at freelancing because he got tired of the BS there, and I jumped ship because I was denied the opportunity to interview for an opening within the company but higher on the chain. And yes, BYM, they kept the plaque because the ME at the time felt it was property of the paper.

'Tart, nice shot.

 

I'm interested to find out what's going to happen next Friday when I go to the state award banquet. One of our recently axed editors won for best editorial and I wonder if she'll get her award.

 

I was at a paper that got a brand new press, building, you name it. This was about 10 years ago.

Management had the "awards are property of the newspaper" attitudes. The week we move out, someone finds more than 50 plaques in a dumpster. We asked if this was a mistake ... nope. Management didn't give a shit and tossed them. About 15 of us scavenged. I didn't have any because I was just starting out, but I helped try to put the plaque to the recipient.

 

Based on what ServeItUp noted, I'm thinking that it's OK to keep up plaques of award winners who leaves the paper voluntarily, no matter how the "bigger and better" things they've go on to might be defined. (But please, make sure there are dual plaques, one for the employer, one for the employee, so the staffer keeps a trophy too.)

But if the place lays off or pushes into a buyout an award winner -- no statute of limitations -- it has to take down the plaque. Period. No exceptions, not even for Pulitzers.

(Now, how stupid is it that I spent even a moment thinking about a "process" for handling this sort of thing? Only in newspapering...)

 

Sirs, Madames,

Years back the Globe and Mail's magazine gave a call when a writer bailed out at the last minute on a profile of Tom Henke. (Vintage speaks for itself.) The editor TOM F-CKING HOPKINS made no secret that I was a (very) second choice. Constantly reminded me. Story was nominated for a Canadian national mag award ... I wasn't invited to the dinner, natch. Other writers, etc, had their $125 dollar tkts picked up. Snuck into the event with a buddy, got my four-beer courage on, and stuck around for the announcement. I won and the editor went up on stage, telling the audience I couldn't make it. I then walked up on stage, to the podium (still with beer in my hand ... Molson's sponsored the sports category), took hold of the prize, gave a gentle back-handed push to the editor chest high and, in my speech, thanked everybody I knew 'cept him.

o-<

 

Bravo! But what happened after the dinner? You left us hanging.

 

The stuff dreams are made of.

 

fantastic

 

Sirs, Madames,

Couple of things happened. The host of the show laughed and commented on me walking on stage with a beer (not like I had a table to set it down). The editor avoided me that night. My buddy, a construction worker, lined up a couple of tile jobs and had everybody laughing. I had to explain my casual dress--sweater in a roomful of suits. I got a letter after the event--cheque for a grand. I thought my first-prize cheque had bounced. In fact, the Globe sent a matching cheque for the prize. Some ridiculously generous and now quaint expression of corporate gratitude. I got another mag assignment with the same outfit--I guess the first choice fell through again. But it's the Canadian magazine biz. The magazine folded a couple of months later and I haven't heard nor seen of the editor since.

o-<