Award-winning writer Jennifer Davidson helped launch our Green Days section last April and her dedication, organizational skills and expertise (she has a biological-sciences degree from CSU Sacramento) kept our sustainability section humming until her real job and motherhood got in the way. We reduced her role—and unchained her—once she promised to write more when she could. Her first byline in forever runs on “Weather, water and wetlands: Is Sacramento the next New Orleans?” in Green Days today. Then tonight, September 20, between 5 and 6, she debuts as our eco-correspondent on Douglas Everett’s “Radio Parallax” on KDVS, 90.3 FM. The topic? Her Green Days piece, of course.
Confidential to Kenneth Allen of Sacramento, Ann Garcia of Elk Grove, Cori Grimsman of Fair Oaks and the other 44 local yokels who e-mailed their outrage over the new Carl’s Jr. TV ad that finds a sexy teacher gyrating as two white-rapper students spit about “Flat Buns”: your offense would seem genuine had you not all sent the exact same form letter. Since Carl’s covers the west and its sister burger company, Hardees, serves the east, you presumably would not have known both run the same commercials and would not have made “Hardees/Carl’s Jr. hit new lows with ads” your e-mail subject lines. Better to personalize à la Sacramento’s Jill Mahurin, who changed her title to “We don’t want our 6-year-old boys watching Carl’s Jr.’s newest ads.” As Jack Lute of Placerville, Greg Phelps of Rancho Cordova and Lynda Vargas of West Sacramento did, you should have removed “Dear local television manager” directly under “Dear Sacramento News & Review.” As for your conclusion—“As required by law, please place a copy of this e-mail letter in your station’s public file, to be readily available to FCC representatives, specifically during the license renewal period for your station.”—we ignore that law, have no station, have no public file, do not answer to the FCC nor need no stinkin’ license, except literary.
Like campaigns against Carl’s Jr. ads with a barely clad Paris Hilton, men in suits probing a chicken and the rednecky guy they could’ve plucked from Loomis slapping a cow, the most your robotic efforts will produce is more publicity for Carl’s—just like writing about all this will. D’oh!