This post seems to mesh nicely–if sadly–with the previous remarks about remaking our sad and ragtag Salt Lake City Main Street.

A City Weekly reader, Jeanne Allein, just sent me this e-mail:

Emilie Segil Martin left us on July 2nd at the age of 87. Do you know the history of this remarkable Salt Lake woman? In the 1960’s I worked at Adrien ‘n Emilie’s boutique with other young and naïve women . . . seven of us are still living in the SLC area and we spent a delightful afternoon with Emilie at a bridal shower several years ago. Emilie was our mentor and friend and she shared all of her worldly knowledge with us. She helped change the face of downtown Salt Lake, along with her brother, Adrien.

I immediately wrote back to Jeanne. I told her about my first-ever pair of bell bottom pants. Purchased at the Cottonwood Mall Adrien ‘n Emilie store in 1970, they were pumpkin orange, fine-wale corduroy with the widest bell legs you could imagine! My mother even sprung for a cotton knit “body shirt” — purple with orange stripes and a little scalloped edge at the neck and hems of the long sleeves.

What an ensemble! I was 13, in the eighth-grade at Olympus Junior High and HOT.

I know that Adrien Segil was killed some years ago while riding his bicycle in town. That was tragic. And I know that Emilie–who skied regularly at Alta into her hearty eighth decade–was a pioneer along with her brother in Utah’s fashion circles in the ’60s and ’70s. Their shop was on upper Main Street. Very cool place.

I’m sorry to hear of Emilie’s passing. Does anyone else remember their great store?

I am sitting at my office keyboard at City Weekly in the historic David Keith building. The address is 248 S. Main Street. I have two 8-foot high picture windows (which desperately need cleaning) looking eastward and straight down at the Gallivan Plaza TRAX stop. Sometimes I look down at that zany KUTV news crew doing live reports with barbecue chefs or some such fun on the sidewalk right across the street.

It’s 4:39 p.m. Before human beings started working around the clock and from home offices, this used to be known as “rush hour.” In Salt Lake City’s downtown golden age–50 years ago or more–it meant people moving on the sidewalks, cars idling at traffic lights. Men and women in hats and pressed suits.

There was life here.

Now there is scarcely any life at all.

The TRAX trains fill up nicely. A good thing, certainly. But they come into town and go home to the suburbs. Nothing on lower Main Street draws a crowd.

I think we are supposed to be patient, wait for another five years while the LDS Church builds its City Creek Center three blocks to the north. We keep hearing about the trickle-down theory of marketing and commerce. We’re told the new mall will wake up everything down here, and great throngs will find their way to Second, Third and Fourth South.

One of the most important questions we can ask the field of mayoral candidates is what are their plans for this sad, decaying, shuttered-up downtown. I’m not willing to give up to The Gateway–just to throw up my hands and admit priorities have shifted to chain stores and beige stucco.

If you were the architect, what would you do to kick the real downtown SLC into gear? One suggestion will do. Post it here, on the blog. Or am I just wrong? Maybe I live in one of those filmy, TV dream montages, where the downtown of my youth shows up and keeps me in a constant state of wishing for more. Maybe downtown is just dead; its resurrection just a pipe dream. Geez, Holly. Just get over it.

I think any downtown resurgence hangs on more than simply changing the liquor laws, though that would help. I’d love to hear your thoughts. And maybe the people running for Salt Lake mayor would, too. Most of them read this blog.

Just got an e-mail from a relative noting some great gossip from her friend’s Mormon ward: A 56-year-old member just announced her engagement to a 21-year-old male (he’s a friend of her youngest son).

I’m 18 years younger than my hubby.

But this?

What say y’all?

Running across the Burnside Street Bridge in Portland last week, I came upon this graffiti message spray-painted in purple, letters a foot high, on the sidewalk bordering the vast Willamette River:

CALL YOUR DEADBEAT DAD. HE STILL LOVES YOU.

It was Father’s Day weekend. My mind started whirling. Did a specific dad write it to a long-lost child? Or was it more universal? A manifesto of sorts for all neglectful kids who haven’t stayed in touch with their dads? And did the suggestion tug hard enough to result in any action?

Couldn’t say. All I knew is this was Portland and the public call to action fit this city perfectly.

Also on the waterfront, scores of names of dead service men and women who died in Iraq were scrawled in chalk. “The Names Project,” said the message chalked on the sidewalk at the start of the long list.

Portlanders seem to live their lives out loud — at least many of those who reside in and around the city limits. I saw two anti-war protests on city sidewalks while there, and people gathering petition signatures downtown for an open space initiative, membership in Greenpeace and lord knows what else. I’ve visited there at least a half-dozen times in 10 years, usually for business, so I seldom get out to the suburbs. I’m pretty sure the Portland suburbs are like anywhere else, though — a gone-to-shit wasteland of chain restaurants and car lots. So I choose to stay in my little comfy urban bubble and it serves me just fine.

A group of City Weekly staff members attended the Association of Alternative Newspapers there. We worked during the day but played hard at night. The second night in, I’d had enough of crowds and loudmouths bragging on their newspapers, so I lit off on my own to Northwest Portland, AKA the Alphabet District. I walked from downtown for about 1 1/2 miles until I ran into a series of great bars, sidewalk cafes, coffee houses and nightlife like I never see in Salt Lake City. The host at the little Italian place where I chose to eat and sip Oregon pinot noir gave me the history of the district: a one-time working class area populated by longshoremen and their families. “It’s got the distinction of being the most densely populated neighborhood between San Francisco and Seattle,” he said, obviously proud of that little tidbit.

It’s easy to dismiss downtown Salt Lake as a decaying, even dead place because of its prehistoric liquor laws and clunky approach to nightlife. But it’s more than that. We cling to a culture here that a thriving nightlife is a little too much, a bit too excessive, showy and inappropriate. You see this even among those restaurant and club owners who are trying here: With the exception of the bigger, successful private clubs, too many bars are dark and dank, buried in basements with little or no light. Dirty.

It’s like going there makes you feel criminal, and I can’t believe city leaders want to put that message across.

And then there are the politics of Portland. I always get the distinct sensation when visiting there that speaking out is a public duty. People have opinions and they don’t shrink at sharing them. It’s a stark contrast to my hometown here, where so many people back into a position, or feign politeness or silence at the risk of offending or alienating someone else.

And of course, I do love the green and the clean air. We live in a high desert here in Salt Lake and I love that for its own exceptional qualities. But clean air? Now that is our challenge. I feel certain the next 10 years and the way we go about working on air quality will make or break Salt Lake as a livable and enticing city. I hope we haven’t started too late.

I’m here, bloggers. I’ve been in Portland, Ore., since last Thursday, attending the annual convention of the Association of Alternative Newspapers. More about that later. I went to a panel discussion led by three behemoth bloggers and/or journalists: Arianna Huffington, Matt Taibbi, and Jane Hamsher.

Of the three, I would highly recommend Taibbi, a political editor for Rolling Stone who made his name with deeply insightful (and hysterically funny) coverage of the 2004 Bush/Kerry presidential race. Not to mention that Taibbi came off with a couple of ounces of humility about himself and his work, which honestly, the other two did not.

Anyway, the topic was how bloggers and other alternative media might bring a little Tabasco to the 2008 presidential election. I asked the three of them a question about Mitt Romney and that Mormon thing. I told the crowd that here in Utah, mainstream reporters have lost all bladder control about Mitt and the possibility that a guy who spent six minutes in our state might become president (yeah, when H-E-double hockey sticks freezes over). I mentioned how his Mormonism crops up in every story, from Newsweek to The Salt Lake Tribune, and did these experts think religion would play a big role in the upcoming race?

Hamsher pushed her bangs out of her eyes a couple of times and said she isn’t interested in religion in politics and that a person’s faith shouldn’t matter. Huffington encouraged all the altie journalists at the convention to take up that topic in their own papers. Taibbi appeared to want to weigh in, but didn’t get a chance before the next question.

What I found most intriguing, what actually bugged me, was Huffington’s description of a new feature she’ll be offering soon on The Huffington Post. Teaming with New York University journalism professor and blogger Jay Rosen, Huffington will start “Off The Bus” on her site in mid-July. The plan is to round up 100 or so bloggers around the country who can post comments and coverage of the presidential race from a fresh (that is to say non-mainstream media) perspective. “Off The Bus,” as opposed to the official “On The Bus” press corps of the major outlets who get spoonfed everything from campaign operatives, get it?

It’s a great idea, and worthy. And I expect if it’s done well, if the goal is for the “uncovered” story, it will take some interviews and leg work from the bloggers. So here’s the part that bugs me: Huffington was quite clear and proud of the fact that these “citizen bloggers” will get no financial compensation for their efforts. None. See, the way she explained it is it’s a privilege to be part of this big electronic neighborhood and that writers like Jamie Lee Curtis and Nora Ephron, who contribute regularly to The Huffington Post, don’t do it for the money anyway. Well of course not. But if the Off The Bus crew is supposed to be average citizens, doesn’t that mean people like your kid’s third grade teacher, your grocery store checker and the guy who comes to fix your plugged-up sink?

Hey, Arianna! How about walking the walk of the good leftie who talks the need to raise the minimum wage and health care for all and throwing these folks $50 a post? Or $100?

She’s a multi-millionaire, after all, with best-selling books, assorted talk show appearances and a wildly successful blog. Honestly, it just seemed a bit hypocritical to me. If you ask me, it’s downright mainstream newspaper mentality — asking for more but paying less (or in this case, nothing at all).

I’ll post some impressions of the beautiful city of Portland later, including my thoughts — and I hope yours, too — on what Salt Lake City could do to poach a little piece of that grand city to make ours more livable.

I’ve spent more time than I should admit publicly reading day-after stories on-line about “The Sopranos” damn fine final episode.

Here is a fairly pedestrian story from the Associated Press, which in the best wire story style tracks down the usual “expert quote” to sum up the existential ending to the HBO gangsters-doing-life series.

I’d say that ending the show the way creator David Chase did was masterful, and a lot of the critics agree. We Tivo-ed the show last night because we had evening plans, so we watched it after 10 p.m. Sunday. I went to bed with that last image of Tony Soprano’s face and then the blast-to-black image on the TV screen that ended it all for us. I tossed and turned and kept replaying Steve Perry’s voice on Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing” in my mind every time I woke up.

This is what good television does. It keeps you replaying it all, summarizing it all, thinking it over and trying to make sense of it. If TV could produce a great American novel, I’d say it came in the form of “The Sopranos.” That’s just how powerfully it affected me and obviously, millions of other viewers who pay premium prices to zoom in weekly on the human condition–however violent and deeply touching it might be in the very same episode.

This is the best analysis of the long-running show I’ve read. Remnick never writes a bad column, and this is one of his finer pieces.

So now it’s on to–yeehaw–”Big Love.” City Weekly TV god Bill Frost says this, in its own charming way, is the replacement for “The Sopranos.” A great season is in store, Bill says. Don’t hang your hats on “John From Cinncinatti,” which seems very strange and takes too long to explain to us why strange is a good thing. (Bill has seen the first few episodes and says the strangeness won’t be explained quickly enough to keep people interested in a whole season.)

Let me and the rest of mullentown readers know what you think of “The Sopranos” arrivederci episode. And if you love “Big Love” as many of we mullentown readers do, what did you think of the season premiere?

I quit the The Salt Lake Tribune last December after nine years of full-time employment as a news reporter, then sports editor, then metro columnist. Naturally, I still hear tidbits of gossip through the local media grapevine. And now that I edit the city’s best alternative newspaper, gossip from my former colleagues flows to me like spring runoff from the Wasatch Mountains.

In the past month, editorial staffers have been leaving the Trib in greater numbers than anyone can remember. In the month of May alone, business writers Carrie Hamilton and Linda Fantin tendered their resignations. Set to leave the paper as well are Michael Westley, a police and justice reporter; Michael Yount, editor of In Utah This Week, the newspaper’s cynical version of an alternative weekly; and Nicole Stricker, an education reporter.

All have given various and fascinating reasons for jumping ship. Fantin is joining her partner, Phil Miller, who quit the Trib’s NBA beat this spring and took a job at the St. Paul Pioneer Press in Minnesota to cover the Twins and major league baseball. Westley has decided to devote full time to a side business he’s built brokering used cars. Yount, a talented graphic designer who has been badly miscast at In Utah, says he will be leaving to be a full-time dad to a toddler and a new baby due in October. Stricker is returning to Idaho Falls to get married, but will likely leave newspaper work altogether.

Then, the following e-mail landed in my in box on June 1. Actually, I got four copies of it from staffers who asked not to be identified. I tell you, it isn’t just leaks coming out of the Gateway 7th floor office tower. It’s a regular opening of the floodgates.

The resignation notice is from Ryan Galbraith, a longtime staff photographer who did not make his decision lightly. He gave up medical benefits for his young family and has told co-workers he’ll try to build up a freelancing business. It’s almost unheard of for a photographer to leave a newspaper job like this one. When you read Ryan’s e-mail, you might understand the gravity of the situation many people are living at Utah’s largest daily paper.

Colleagues,

Sincerely,
Ryan Galbraith

A former Trib colleague has been keeping track of the resignations and terminations since Media News, under the leadership of Dean Singleton, bought the newspaper and replaced former editor Jay Shelledy with Nancy Conway in 2003. More than 80 people, full- and part-time, have jumped ship.

Managers argue with those numbers. But I’ve seen the list, and I knew the people. All of them. Hell, it’s probably more than 80.

The paper is becoming increasingly “Singletonized,” which in this industry means cutting drastically on compensation and raises, while requiring more time on the job (e.g. contributing to blogs and zoned neighborhood editions without extra pay or comp time) increasing insurance premiums and/or cutting benefits. Ryan’s disgust at a 3 percent raise is typical of many employees at mid-career there. Actually, under the Conway regime, 3 percent is generous. Two and 2 1/2 percent annual raises (if they come at all) are more typical — not even equal to a cost of living increase.

It took a couple of years for the Singleton model to take hold in Salt Lake City. His modus operandi (I watched him gut daily papers in Dallas and Houston in the ’90s) is to cut staff as deeply as possible while defending his penny pinching as “the industry standard.”

And here is where it leads: To a newspaper that will keep losing its best and most loyal employees, who take with them institutional knowledge of Utah’s political, cultural and business institutions and yes, its important and unique nuances.

It’s scarcely a fun place to work anymore, staffers have told me. And in the newspaper biz — known for long hours and low wages — if it isn’t at least a little about fun, why bother?

No kidding, I’m trying to get back up on the blog again.

It’s delightful to feel loved and needed. I’ve received e-mails and yes, a few very pointed comments here as well about my long hiatus from mullentown. Let it be known that the flames from ttstark had nothing to do with my absence. As I told a couple of my correspondents, I’ve had far worse from others and came through that unscathed.

No, I can only tell you that I got meaningfully distracted. I’ve been a little tired, too. And I know myself well enough to realize that meant something had to give. Also, I got a little pulled in other directions — like fussing over my two kids in psychological ways I’m having trouble understanding. I spent a good bit of time shuttling 16-year-old Sam to summer job interviews and helping him learn how to complete a job application and set up a bank account. I flew to Los Angeles last weekend to visit Kit for her 19th birthday. Besides the fun and glory that is L.A. ( I mean that. For all its grit and excess, I do love that city.), I spent close to a full day in a funk once I had kissed her goodbye and walked away. That’s not my way, really. But this was big and I wanted to figure it out.

I’m still not completely sure what it was/is. I know it has something to do with the absolute realization that Kit only needs me now in a distant way. That is, she loves and values me. (Oh, and she often needs money!!) We are extremely close. But she has achieved a major sense of independence in the past year that I had ever only experienced tangentially through friends who have older children. How do I put my finger on this? It’s positively glorious — realizing that I’ve accomplished my goal of competent parenting by rearing a child who can let go and flourish on her own. But now I move on to other work/play/whatever, while still glancing at her over one shoulder.

Yep, I know. It’s such a universal condition as to be cliche. But this morning, while I listen to the much-welcomed rain drizzling then puddling on the front walk outside my kitchen window, I’m still aching a little. It’s a good ache.

So now I focus a bit more on Sam, who has suffered “second-child syndrome” most of his life. That will be fun. He’s more easy-going than his big sister in some ways; rolls with what comes. He laughs easily and has a wicked sense of humor. We are ski buddies and love to watch baseball together.

And there’s Ted. He’s fully retired these days, though the guy always has some project going. Right now it’s fishing in Gardiner, Montana, bicycling in Yellowstone and climbing Electric Peak with two of his 65-plus buddies. We should all work so hard. Ah, I love him like crazy.

So, that’s a personal update if you can stand it. I’m back and I’ll try to post more regularly in between trying to shake up this town with alternative journalism. Thanks for visiting, and I’ll understand if you’ve given up.

OK. Let’s move on.

I plan on ignoring any further ttstark posts, unless they get so over the top as to cause me a migraine (a malady I’m not given to, so I don’t expect he’ll be much of a future problem). Thanks for all your comments on the topic.

Snarky dweebs like ttstark however, are on my mind of late. City Weekly staff writer Stephen Dark is finishing up a cover story about a cyber-squatter-conman who has a criminal record as long as my arm. The guy has a record as a sex offender (a late 1990s federal conviction for on-line possession of kiddie porn). This little transgression landed the guy on the Utah sex offenders database, so he finds it a challenge to find and keep a regular job. He’s limited to where he can live (restrictions on proximity to schools, child care centers, etc.) so he he resides in his sister’s basement in Utah County. He fills his days with harassing people via the Internet and extorting them by demanding money to clear their names (once he’s tried to destroy them). It’s like the guy has a virtual pen and mucho time on his hands to scrawl insults and threats all over one big bathroom wall.

That’s all I can reveal right now. The story is scheduled to run next issue (May 23). It’s sort of a cautionary tale for people who might not know how closely these creeps operate among us.

If you’re one of the many who read this blog and can’t get a paper copy of CW, you can always bookmark our site: http://www.slweekly.com

If you haven’t read my weekly column in this week’s CW, it’s here. We had a good laugh on Tuesday of this week — the day we run around like crazy chickens to get the paper out. This issue reads like the “All Mitt, All the Time” edition. My main point was to get away from the dominant theme among Utahns these days: that poor Mitt is being persecuted for his LDS membership. I’ll give him that, to a small degree. But as a journalist and something of a social/cultural/political critic, I’m not about to give him a hall pass on his waffling and lukewarm positions.

As I point out in the piece, Americans appreciate flexibility in their president AFTER the election, not BEFORE. A presidential campaign is all about drama. What we want from our candidates during the campaign is guarantee of a spine. And Romney shows nearly every day that he’s in search of his. If he’s found his backbone yet, he really ought to let the voters know.

… That is the way I’ve come to think of “ttstark,” the person who posts flames on this blog that have zero to do with either the topic under consideration or the general tone of mullentown.

I’m probably insulting wolves by saying that. Wolves are known for their strict social order and for being good parents to their young. “ttstark” simply comes across as a boor with a poor upbringing. Also, I have the distinct feeling he’s drunk when he writes these posts. And a bitter drunk at that.

I hadn’t even checked in this weekend, mostly because I took a dream bicycle ride halfway to Big Mountain (at the Salt Lake/Morgan County line) on Saturday and truly enjoyed Mother’s Day on Sunday. My family gave me time — the best gift of all. I planted my tomatoes and then sat on the porch drinking pinot grigio from a box while reading Barbara Kingsolver’s new book. I’ve always been a fan of Kingsolver, and this new non-fiction work is a cross between her fabulous essays and a journalistic foray into how we get the food we eat.

So, I called up mullentown this a.m. and found yet another flame by this character (See “Girl and Fire,” May 9 post). I saw all your kind efforts to defend me. I’ve also received a couple of e-mails from readers encouraging me to somehow shut off his access to the site. I guess that decision is partially up to all of you. What do you think?

I’m naturally anti-censorship. But as my brilliant Webmaster Joey pointed out to me a few minutes ago, I’m paying for this site and I should have some power over who uses it. He compares it to owning a restaurant. My blog is open to the public and it benefits from varied opinions. But I wouldn’t sit by and allow someone to come into the restaurant, throw trash all over and scream insults at me, the proprietor, or at the patrons. Joey suggests if ttstark has a problem with me kicking him off the blog, maybe he should pay to keep the domain name — and all the others costs associated with the site.

Of course, shunning him the way many of you already have might work. I tried ignoring him, but that didn’t work. If you would like to take up this topic on mullentown, go ahead. Right now, I’m inclined to kick him off, but I can be swayed the other way with a good argument.

Peace out.