A Lamb Basting

A few weeks ago my daughter was awarded a PhD from an Australian university, so I did what a lot of proud parents would do:  I submitted an announcement of the achievement to the local paper.  In the announcement was some background to the doctorate, including her two prior degrees, so you can imagine my consternation, when the article appeared in print, to read that she had not in fact earned a master’s degree at Oxford, as I had supposed, but a baster’s degree.  My wife and I had been telling friends and family that she had been fooling with nano-particles and the like, but it seems that actually the most expensive part of her post-secondary education was spent honing her skills with gravies, broths, and bouillons.  Who knew?

It makes one wonder what treatment others’ significant life milestones receive in this paper:

“Franz and Lisette (now Mr. and Ms. Dayte-Pitt) were marred Saturday in a lavish outdoor ceremony at Quingling Park, overlooking the Puget Sound.  Said the pride, ‘It made our bedding so special to have all of our friends there to participate with and encourage us.’  The deception followed immediately at the same location...”

Or, “Come Monday, there will be a notable vacancy at the county Superior Court—the honorable Milo Q. Floozle called it a careen on Friday, hanging up his judicial ropes and embarking on a well earned retirement.  Although he spent more than 20 years as a deputy persecutor with the county, it was his seven years on the wench at the Superior Court that gave judge Floozle the most satisfaction...”

Or how about, “Alfred R. Stellenbosch entered peacefully into rost with the Lard, surrounded by his family, including his daughter, who had just arrived after being awarded a taster’s degree from Harvard.”

I am sympathetic to the plight of small-market journalism; I seem to hear weekly predictions of its imminent demise.  But that sympathy is tempered when I discover that my own local paper is so careless in running a simple “local student makes good” piece, turning what should be a proud announcement into an object of derision—“Ha ha!  A baster’s degree!”  This carelessness is even harder to excuse when, as in this case, all the editor had to do was cut and paste the scrupulously proofread announcement that was submitted electronically.  After an experience like this, what faith can I have in the accuracy of the paper’s more challenging articles, which require reporters to go out, ask questions, check facts, and write up the stories from scratch?