Society has its organ grinders still. Few in number, they are generally to be found selling sheet music from a plastic stand at railway stations. The mighty organ, however, playing each song piano or fortissimo according to its political orientation, is remote from these humble purveyors.
The white haired editor of a million daily song sheets was in angry mood that Monday morning. News had gone into limbo. Staples of scandal had failed to occur, promotions by Parliament of foreign madnesses had gone stale, the economic mess was old hat, accidents had unfortunately lacked severity and the weekend’s indiscretions had been disappointingly banal. Too much reliance was being placed on the usual sources of meaty news. He needed an attention grabbing leader for his front page and had found none. The building hummed only with staff anecdotes of their weekend.
His anger increased. The industry had become complacent. There was a perception that with so much stupidity and immoral fibre in high places, salacious news would fall daily into their lap. It was time for something different, time to shake the tree for its coconuts and not just wait for them to fall on newsroom skulls. Something with a local rather than a national context would show the human touch to his faceless readership. A ‘local touch’ was the hereditary refuge for an editor out of ideas, so if he was to tread that path his pace would have to be swift and sure.
He pulled at the colourful braces which were an affectation in memory of Larry King whom he had admired, snapped them back into his chest, and picked up his desk phone.
Word flashed around news desks, sports desks, financial desks, and desks scouting both powerful international and humble provincial organs of the press for anything of interest. An opportunistic journalist from each desk was interviewed without generating any editorial enthusiasm, until, at the nadir of hope he heard about a forest fire in Lochaber. Rival newspapers were giving the matter zero coverage.
“Where in Lochaber?” he had asked impatiently. “Do give me a clue. Name the nearest settlement and tell me it is Spean Bridge. I like the commando memorial. It photographs well.”
“Actually, it’s Strontian.”
“Not Spean Bridge? Never mind, with a bit of luck the fire will get out of hand. It’s been a while since we gave a local story the treatment. So we’ll give your rabbit a run. It might grow into a hare.”
His employee attempted to convey to the white hair and braces a sense of gratitude, and failed. The editor eyed the junior with some distaste before leaning back and fiddling with a ballpoint pen. “You may go,” he said, “secure in the knowledge that you have influenced a great newspaper.”
Visibly disappointed, the young reporter rose to leave. An upraised palm restrained him. “Oh, what the hell,” Nic said, “my best photographer can look after you. Get going. Cover the wildfire in Lochaber. This better be bloody good.”
Known to the industry as ‘Nic’, a reference either to Niccolo Machiavelli or to the ‘Auld Nick’ of Burns and Scotland (almost certainly the former) he mused for a while before deciding upon a strategy and imparting it to Head of News.
“Contact the Lochaber rag covering this fire…collaboration only with us meantime…I’ll phone their editor first, he’s a decent old type, know him well…I’m sending a team up there, this morning. They should have seen you by now to confirm. I need back-up aerial shots, spectacular overhead kicks…give me rugged mountains blazing… this is going out as a major news story. Read up on Lochaber for context. Make it look like we know the area well. I want the full treatment. Right, get everybody moving.”
He depressed a button on the desk consol and contacted his secretary. “I need to speak to the Commission’s Assistant Director. I understand that he holds sway over many a herd, or thinks that he does. Try to be very respectful, then put him through.”
Within minutes he was expounding, very respectfully, on his newspaper’s forthcoming and sympathetic coverage of the Commission battle against conflagration in the north.