I feel much better now.

After I published this rant, things got a lot better.

I downloaded MySQL and installed an instance on my local machine. By pointing Django there, I was able to get the connection and things started clicking. So I'm pretty confident that it was Tribune blocking the port, not me being an idiot. At least this time.

It's the small things that piss me off.

So I've embarked on learning Django. Again. But this time with gusto.

However, just like any other language, it's the small things that trip you up.

I spent a decent portion of today trying to figure out why I could not get Django to talk with a DBMs of some sort. First up was SQL Server.

The Django Book appears to indicate you can use ado_mssql. But after numerous trips in Chapter 5, particularly with the following:

>>> from django.db import connection
>>> cursor = connection.cursor()

I kept getting getting an error message. Best I could tell, the SQL Server part isn't really supported yet. But I could be wrong.

Then I decided to move on to MySQL, considering that's what everyone is using anyhoo. I could absolutely not get a connection. I was trying to use a MySQL install on my A Small Orange account...But no luck. I couldn't figure out the problem --- I checked my settings over and over, even e-mailed tech support.

Still no luck.

Best I can tell, it's because of Tribune's block of port 3306. Knowing we had an MySQL install here on one of our CAR boxes, I tried to get that working. That would seemingly show whether it was Tribune blocking the port or my idiocy.

So we'll try again tonight when I get home. But I've got my money on the port being blocked.

Frameworks!

So far, I've played around with Django here at home. But I've done nothing more than display the date and time. What can I say? I got sidetracked.

But I see IRE is going to offer a Web frameworks bootcamp during the conference in Miami. Yay!

Back from Tempe....

Well, I actually made it back from Tempe. But more important than getting back, I survived my time in Tempe.

We spent mucho time learning about regression, correlation and several other social science methods useful in journalism.

That all got me thinking.

My friend Allison is a Ph.D sociology student at the University of Colorado in Hippieville. We've spent a few e-mails talking about social science and journalism. The other day, I whined that if newspapers fail, who else is going to do this kind of work?

Her response:

"A lot of people do this kind of work. It just doesn't go as public as a story the Dallas News does. So, we start making it MORE of a priority to get research out to the public. There's definitely a movement towards this right now, but it's more
towards getting research about a particular issue to the practitioners
who work in that area, not the whole general public."

To me, this is the very problem. Social scientists write for other social scientists. Academics write for academics. It doesn't matter if academia starts trying to find more ways to publicize their work --- it's still going to be written for other academics.

During the camp, Steve Doig told of a story where a journalist presented his findings to an academic, who was astounded. "I never knew newspapers could do work like this," he said. As I remember the story, and forgive me if I'm a little off, the academic was planning to do the same work, but was going to take a year to apply for grant, start figuring out a framework, on and on and on.

Journalists can do social science-type work and make it palatable to the general public. But this kind of work dies in a compressing newsroom environment.

So this is my depressing thought for the day. I guess I really don't have a point to all of this, other than my hope we can find a way out of this current environment.

In Tempe...

Well, I made it to Tempe in one piece aboard Delta. Given the recent stories about the FAA getting nice and cozy with airlines, it wasn't a given, I suppose.

Anyways, I'm here for IRE's advanced statistics boot camp, which has me stoked. I feel like it could help shore up one of my weaknesses.

I was supposed to meet up with other students and the two teachers, Steve Doig and Jen LaFleur, for food and adult beverages...but the bed kept calling. Or something like that.

I had to leave Ft. Lauderdale on an 8 a.m. flight, which meant I had to get to the airport about 6:45 a.m. So I woke up at 5 a.m. after getting to bed somewhere around midnight.

Got to the desert fabulous Twin Palms, which features peach doors, parrots, and dogs in the lobby, about 2:30 p.m. Set the clock for 4:30 p.m. to meet them at 6 p.m. Next thing I know, it's 10 p.m.

Too bad. Oh well, it means I'm up early and ready to go this morning.

So it's off to do some journalism learning.

Another personal post...

You'll have to excuse me. I'm going to use this space for another post personal in nature.

Mark Hutchison, a mentor of mine from The Oklahoman, was appointed online news editor for the company's online operations. So why is this a big deal?

Hutch has shown unbelievable courage in the last few months. Not too long before I left The Oklahoman in October, Mark suffered a tragic injury while fishing in southeastern Oklahoma. He fell down an embankment, leaving Hutch paralyzed from the chest down.

Mark's been to hell and back since that accident. He's suffered illnesses that landed him back in the hospital for weeks on end. I've been told most who suffer such an accident rarely return to work --- and if they do, it's only after a year.

Hutch will return about six months or so after his accident.

Mark hired me the first time as a metro editor. After his appointment as city editor, Mark gave me the opportunity to cover the Legislature in my mid-20s. I owe a lot to Mark Hutchison.

Much of what I learned about journalism, ethics and raising hell came from MULK, as we liked to call him.

You see, Mark is not a small man. He's probably 6'3" or so and about 250 --- all solid. We would play basketball during lunch at The Oklahoman's courts and sometimes I thought Mark was confusing football with basketball. He would get a look on his face that let you know he was driving for the hoop, and people just got out of the way or risk losing a tooth.

His editing style was about the same. If your story sucked, he let you know. He pushed you to be the best.

"Bend over and grab your ankles," he once shouted to a reporter who hadn't turned in a story to his liking.

Now you know why we called this old school journalist "The Incredible Mulk."

Mark also taught this city boy a little about fishing.

I'm proud to not only consider Mark a mentor, but a friend.

Welcome back, Hutch.

Sorry for the quiet...

I know the posts are few and far between. You see, I'm getting married.

I proposed back in September or so when Tribune flew Kathryn and I down here for a house-hunting trip. Since then, it's been kind of a logistical balancing act.



Kathryn has flown here and I've been back home to Oklahoma. For those of you who don't know me, I grew up in Tulsa. I went to Oklahoma State University and then took a job at The Oklahoman, the state's largest metro daily based in Oklahoma City.

It was weird leaving Oklahoma City. It's a metro of more than 1 million people that's rapidly growing. Just 20 years ago, it was a dusty cow town where no one wanted to live. Fast forward a couple decades and hundreds of millions of dollars in public and private capital investments and it's a different city with an NBA team on the way.



But it was time to leave. It was time to do something --- and live somewhere --- different.

So tomorrow, she's loading up her remaining things --- most of them are already here --- and her mom's friend is driving the truck down here. Kathryn will fly down on Thursday night. The truck will arrive Saturday.

A bit of an exclamation point on the relocation of my life.

She'll fly back for a couple weeks and then I'll join her before our March 1 wedding.

So the posts may be few and far between until then. So stick with me. Sooner or later I'll think of something interesting to say.