It's OK to say, 'I don't know.'

A friend of ours is a retired military man. He says, “That’s above my pay grade” when asked to comment on something for which he doesn’t have an answer.  

I’m getting that way and find myself saying, “That’s above my pay grade” quite often these days. Usually when speaking with my wife.  

We were on our way home from church Sunday and she began asking me about a subject which now escapes me. That’s the nice thing about getting older — your memory grows shorter and you discover new things over and over each day.   

In the past, I would have thought about it and tried to give her an answer whether I knew what I was talking about or not. I am the man. I am supposed to know! 

More and more I know less and less and soon I will know nothing about anything! 

It’s OK to say you don’t know.  

At work, I used to think I had to know everything (or try to pretend I knew everything) in order to get ahead. Methinks it didn’t work. I doubt anyone was fooled, at least not for very long.  

It reminds me of one of my first days in college. I was crazy about broadcasting. I hadn’t discovered writing, yet. 

I visited the campus 10-watt radio station that could be heard a mile outside of town on a good day.  

Despite the limited power of the station and that the transmitter sat on a very small library table, the studios were probably as large as half the floor where our newspaper offices are located.  

It was an educational opportunity for students who would volunteer their time instead of going to parties or hanging out. It kept us off the street.  

Eventually I produced several radio series for the station and even a segment for NPR’s “All Things Considered” in 1972.  

Elroy was a year ahead of me in school and the first day I visited the station, even before classes began, Elroy showed me the ropes. He put a 5-inch tape reel on a spindle, threaded it to the take-up reel on the other spindle and played a public service announcement voiced by a man with a deep voice who sounded like the lead vocalist on the “Shaft” theme song.  

“Did you record that here?” I asked.  

“Yes,” he said.  

I was impressed.  

“How did you get a student to sound like that?” 

“Oh, we have filters,” Elroy said.  

The only filter Elroy had was to filter out the truth. I later learned that recording was made i Los Angeles or New York.  

But, he was trying to impress me, a simple freshman.  

One of the nice things about being the oldest person in the building today is that I am no longer trying to build a career.  

Now, I can just come in and do the best job I can each day and answer any questions that come my way, as long as they’re not above my pay grade.  

Frank Phillips is a reporter for The Brazil Times. 

What's the DISH on Distant TV Networks and Satellite TV?

— or — some days they can send my satellite TV DIRECTly to Hartford, Hereford and Hampshire!

In the beginning ...

God created fire and he saw that it was good.

And people sat around their portable fires in their caves or outside their dwellings and talked, telling stories and singing with their families.

Later ...

Man invented the radio. And he thought it was very good. Eventually, the electric box brought Jack Benny, Fibber McGee and Molly, The Lone Ranger and even the NBC Orchestra into his home.

Then, he invented television. And, not sure what to put on it, he filmed Jack Benny, Fibber McGee and Molly and The Lone Ranger. The classical music didn't go over too well, so he played that on Sunday afternoons. But Dick Clark found out that popular music could draw an audience when vivacious teens danced on camera. So, "American Bandstand" and a host of imitators were created.

Americans loved quantity more than quality, so man said, "If half a dozen channels on TV are good, 30 or even 130 channels would be better." (He didn't care what he put on those channels, just as long as there were more and more channels filled with the same stuff and different people.)

So, cables were strung from high towers and even the tops of lofty mountains, down into the valleys so people could receive many more channels. It was the same drivel, but static and snow on the picture were reduced.

Then man saw people would pay a monthly price for their cable-TV and man thought, "Aha! What if we could provide people far out in the country with hundreds of channels and charge them each month for their reception?"

And man invented satellite television.

But there was a problem called the FCC -- the Federal Communications Commission.

One day, in a move to protect local network TV stations and, perhaps, cable TV companies, the FCC passed a ruling (i.e. the same thing as a law for all intents and purposes). The ruling said, "Thou shalt not offer distant networks to people who receive signals from satellite TV."

And DISH satellite customers became very wroth.

People in Brazil, Ind., received conflicting information from DISH network (Direct TV did not carry local channels). Some people were told, "You won't be affected. You will still get ABC-TV from WRTV in Indianapolis." Others were told, "Yes, you will lose your ABC channel from Indianapolis."

Then Dec. 1 came and people in Brazil lost both WRTV-6 (ABC) and WTHR-13 (NBC) from Indianapolis.

And the DISH technical support people promised TV antennas would be installed on their customers' houses free of charge, so those people could receive Indianapolis TV, free of charge. But the DISH people forgot why cable-TV was invented -- that normal antennas don't pull in distant TV stations very well.

So, DISH operators called their customers in Brazil and said, "We'll have to buy better antennas for you -- make an appointment for a few months down the road."

The future hasn't' been written yet, but I would not be surprised if one day I read in The Brazil Times:

"Wife calls 911 when her husband tears out their TV equipment, starts fire in the back yard, and begins singing."

Thank goodness for books and libraries! (and newspapers!)

Frank Phillips is The Times editor. He can be e-mailed at frankphi@hotmail.com — assuming his e-mail is working.