Tag Archives: life

You should care more about the Nexstar/Tegna merger than you do

You should care more about the Nexstar/Tegna merger than you do because it will have an impact on you — and it won’t be good.

A friend who still works in news texted me this morning after the Nexstar/Tegna merger news: “You got out at the right time.”

I had already been talking with two other friends about the merger — one who works in news and one who also got out — when she messaged that.

Her words really struck me. Leaving journalism is something I wrestle with far too often.

I miss following stories that actually affected people’s lives — directly and indirectly, and in ways they did not even realize.

I miss knowing more than the average person about what was happening in local government, in schools, in neighborhoods, on roads people drive every day.

I miss asking elected officials very basic questions and watching them get annoyed that someone was paying attention.

I miss all of what news was.

I left full-time journalism at the end of 2022.

At the time, I was working for a television news company, but none of this happened overnight. I had seen the shift starting years earlier — even a decade earlier — as people became more hostile toward local news and as newsrooms slowly started prioritizing things other than the news itself. For me, 2020 felt like a tipping point. That is when everything already in motion seemed to move into overdrive.

Important news was still getting covered. Real journalism was still happening.

But as attention spans waned and eyeballs wandered to other forms of media (like TikTok, Instagram, YouTube), the draw to make headlines more sensational, videos shorter with less information and more gimmicks only intensified.

And it was not just happening in TV. It was happening everywhere.

There appeared to be less emphasis on actually informing people and more emphasis on feeding the machine.

More and more news outlets were referring to news as “content.” And that “content” included links to Amazon products, useless user-submitted photo galleries, rewritten news releases and archived video made to look like something new.

And, I need to note, good journalism is still out there. People are still fighting to do quality journalism every day.

But too much of it is buried under junk, largely driven by the powers that be (typically, people who just have money to buy a news outlet or a few and have no actual concern about the news — or people being driven by those demands).

Maybe my friend is right. Maybe I did get out at the right time.

But I still go back and forth. Some days, I feel like I let news down by leaving. Other days, I know I was protecting myself by stepping away from a fight that already felt lost.

Hourglass / Image by Eduin Escobar from Pixabay

60 years of sands through the hourglass on ‘Days of our Lives’

It was 60 years ago today, Nov. 8, 1965, “Days of our Lives” premiered, and the sands began slipping through the hourglass.

For some, that hourglass wasn’t just a symbol of a daytime drama—it was part of the rhythm of our lives. I grew up with this show. I grew up in Salem, in a way. The Bradys, the Hortons, the DiMeras—they’re not just fictional families. They feel like part of mine.

For decades, “Days” has been a constant. Through school days, college years, life changes, heartbreaks, illnesses, summer breaks and holidays. It’s been there.

And not just as background noise, but as a thread—a familiar presence that grew and changed with me. Every dramatic twist, every outlandish plot (every baby stolen, DNA switched, elevator shaft “death”) is a moment of real emotion that made its mark. And still does.

I remember Marlena’s first possession storyline like it happened yesterday. The absolute audacity of it. I’d never seen anything like that on daytime TV. The levitation. The eyes. The chapel scenes. It was over-the-top and absolutely unforgettable.

During a medical recovery years ago, I found the storyline pieced together on YouTube and relived every moment.

Then, years later, they “Days” did it again. And somehow, it worked—again. Marlena, the heart of Salem, taken over by the devil—not once but twice. Deidre Hall carried those storylines with elegance and fire, grounding even the wildest scenes in something deeply human.

And then came Will Horton’s coming-out story. The way it unfolded felt real, complicated, emotional. It didn’t just check a box—it honored a journey. Watching Will wrestle with his truth, watching Marlena support him, seeing that story handled with such depth—it meant something. For a lot of people, it was the first time they saw a version of themselves on daytime TV. For others, it was a master class in empathy. I remember watching those scenes and thinking: this show, for all its outlandishness, has never been afraid of telling human stories.

Then this year, we lost John Black, as Drake Hogestyn died in 2024. And for longtime viewers, that was a gut punch. John Black wasn’t just another leading man. He was the rogue, the anchor, the protector, the lover. His chemistry with Marlena was lightning in a bottle. When the show said goodbye to him, it was heartbreak on top of heartbreak. But it was also beautiful. Thoughtful. You could feel the love behind every scene, both from the cast and the fans. That’s what this show does best—it honors its own history and the people who helped build it.

Even the move to Peacock—controversial at first—ended up feeling like an evolution. There was frustration, sure. Watching a show that had been free and broadcast for decades shift to a streaming service felt like a loss, like something being taken away. But there was something gained, too. Freedom. Flexibility. The show could push boundaries again, try new things, be a little bolder. And somehow, “Days” found a second wind there. A new generation found it. Longtime fans stayed. We adapted—because that’s what fans of this show have always done.

And still, through all of it, nothing gets me like the Horton Christmases. The tree. The ornaments. The way each family member carefully hangs a name, a memory, a legacy. It’s a small moment, but it hits deep every single year. It always has. Because “Days” has never just been about love triangles and evil twins and wild plot twists. It’s been about connection. Family. Resilience. The way we carry on.

It’s also something I love sharing. One of the best parts of being a “Days” fan is connecting with friends who watch, too. Whether it’s texting after a Friday cliffhanger, swapping theories about who’s behind the latest drama or just laughing about a classic Sami move, those conversations add another layer of joy. We speak the same Salem shorthand. We notice things the other missed. We catch up, fill in gaps, revisit old storylines and carry the show together. It’s more than just watching—it’s a shared habit. A language. A bond.

Sixty years. And somehow, it feels both like forever and like no time at all. I think about all the people who’ve come and gone—on screen and off. The ones who’ve grown up, grown older, left the show, returned again. The ones we’ve lost. And the fans, too—the ones who’ve been watching since day one, and the ones who just started. We’re all part of this story now.

So today, I celebrate not just a show, but a legacy. A lifeline. A constant companion. “Days of our Lives” isn’t just television. It’s memory. It’s comfort. It’s home.

And I’m grateful—for every melodramatic moment, every ornament on that tree, every hour that passed through the hourglass.