Yes, Emily, there is a Lockport Monster

A few nights ago, I took the family to Northampton Park in Monroe County. Every year, the county has a light show in the park that you drive through.

At $10 a car load, it was well worth it. I highly suggest making the trip.

Anyway, one of the displays was of the Loch Ness Monster.

My 5-year-old daughter Emily asked what it was and we told her.

"There's a Lockport Monster?" she asked.

At the time, I laughed and said, "No, Emily. Loch Ness Monster."

Then I thought about it some more.

What I should have said follows.

Yes, Emily. There is a Lockport Monster.

He doesn't hide in closets or under beds ... and he doesn't want to scare little girls.

But he does frighten the heck out of adults.

You see, Emily, the Lockport Monster is kind of like the Can't Man.

For some reason, honey, people in Lockport have convinced themselves that certain things just won't work.

"After all, this is Lockport, New York," they often say.

That's their way of saying things work different in Lockport - it's almost their way of saying things don't work as well.

Those people that say that, they've been scared by the Lockport Monster.

Unfortunately, honey, some things in Lockport haven't always gone perfectly. Some businesses have closed and some things that used to be pretty aren't as pretty as they were.

Because of that, people that live in Lockport have convinced themselves that nothing is going to go right ever again.

It's the Can't Man - the Lockport Monster - that convinces them that.

In a sense, though, sweetheart, these people in Lockport are trying to protect themselves. If they think it won't work and then it does, then they're happily surprised. But if they think it will work and then it doesn't, then they're sad.

Think of it this way: If I tell you that we're going to Chucky Cheese and then we don't, you're sad, right? But if I don't tell you that we're going to Chucky Cheese, then you're not sad when we don't, right?

That's the Lockport Monster. That thing that makes you - and everyone else - sad.

What we need is a superhero - or the Ghost Busters - to make it go away.

That way, people in Lockport can believe that things are going to work out right.

Because if they don't believe that things will work out, they won't try to make it work. And then it probably won't.

And we don't want that to happen.

After all, if there was a Northampton Park Monster, you wouldn't be seeing these pretty lights.

What's the value

I've been fortunate enough to meet some pretty nice people, some fairly influential people, and — to be honest — a fair share of absolute jerks.

Anyway, I'm getting off my topic.

Being in the news business, you get a skewed view of the world.

Whether I'm driving down Transit, taking my daughter to school, or watching television, my most frequent thought is, "How can I write a story about this?"

I'm on watch 24-7. If I don't know the answer to something, I want to. If I know the answer and I think someone else may not, I want to get it in the paper — share the wealth, so to speak.

Excellent qualities for a newsman, I must admit.

But it has definite drawbacks.

First of all, the line between work and home is hardly black and white.

For a lot of folks, there's the time card thing. Punch the card, you're working. Punch again, you're not.

For others, its a matter of entering and exiting a building. Work is a place rather than a concept.

For a reporter, though. Being a journalist is a lifestyle.

In a way, since I'm on watch 24-7, I'm working 24-7.

Now, I'm not just saying this so you'll feel bad for me or anything like that. I just think that far too many of our subscribers don't really understand what we do. They just know that we misspell words and pick on poor defenseless politicians.

Most of what we really do, though, is somewhat innocuous. We write about local businesses, local people, local landmarks, etc.

Like I was saying earlier, problems are inherent.

A reporter by nature becomes judgmental of everything.

"Does this have news value?" I ask myself.

News value, for those who don't speak Reportese, is the determination that a good portion of 15,000 strangers will be interested in the topic enough to not call and tell you what an idiot you are for writing about it.

The news value of this column, for example, is pretty darn low, but I'm hoping you'll cut me some slack.

Where the whole news value thing becomes a problem, however, is anywhere that I'm genuinely NOT working. Dinner at home, for example. Or outside the county.

When conversations with friends and loved ones begin to be judged by how interesting 15,000 complete strangers would find them, you know you've got a problem.

Or when you're talking with your five-year-old daughter and you have to stop her to jot yourself a note because she just said something that reminded you that you wanted to write a story about something, you know you've got a problem.

Apparently, I have a problem.

Fortunately, life goes on.

Okay, to switch gears entirely: This is column number 14 for me in my weekly series carried exclusively by Greater Niagara Newspapers. It's my first on page 3 (a new plan by US&J Managing Editor Denise Young to squeeze more into the paper). I'm hoping for syndication because that's where the real money is.

To further explain, this is a column. It's an opinionated-type piece, typically filled with personal notes and flavor and almost always accompanying a photo.

Anything that says "By Scott Leffler, Lockport Journal" is a story. It is fact based and should be void of this writer's opinion. That's rough to do sometimes, but I try as hard as possible.

Anything that is graphic in nature and was likely paid for is an ad (advertisement).

Lastly, the thing on page A8 that says "Editorially Speaking" is an editorial. It is the opinion of this newspaper, or at least the five people on our local editorial board (which you may note I'm on).

Now that we've got that straight, when you call to praise me (or even to complain) about something in the paper, please don't call a story an ad or vice-versa. It makes it much more difficult to figure out what you're talking about if I'm looking for a graphic and you're talking about a story.

So if you can do that for me, I'll try not to judge the news value of our conversation when I bump into you at WalMart or Tops.