BabyholdHands!

Parents: A question.

Does, or did, your 2-year-old want to hold the hand of other small children? I mean, to the point of actually chasing the other child around the playground?

Sophie and St. Joey share a hug.

I mean to the point of saying "Baby hold hands!" at the mere mention of other children and/or a trip to a location known to be a regular hangout for the under-5 crowd?

Sophie is so cute when she says it. It's like one word to her. "BabyholdHands!" she says with a barely contained blurt of excitement.

Because we know how weird it is to have a random munchkin come up to your kid and try to hold his or her hand, Jen and I have been trying to make sure Soph at least asks the kid.

So, usually, "BabyholdHands!" is followed up by "Axs the baby," completed with a solemn head nod. A "pease" is usually thrown in there, too.

Jen and I are torn over Sophie's love of hand-holding.

Like I said, I know it's weird. And it could prove dangerous if such activities continue with bigger people. Right now, the victims have been those under three feet tall.

But it also shows a very tender side of our 2-year-old as she begins to develop a personality.

It all started when Jen took Sophie to an open gym at the local college a few months ago. A girl, probably about 4 or 5, came up to Sophie and took her hand, sort of like a protector in the sea of rug rats and gymnastics equipment.

Since, she walks right up to someone the same size as her, seeking to hold his or her hand. Sophie can be shy when talking to people she doesn't know or is not around frequently, but with this, she's fearless.

Jen and I appreciate this. It took me becoming a reporter — someone who has to approach people you don't know or you don't eat — before I could overcome the level of shyness Sophie seems to have overcome. At least with little people.

So, I ask you, fellow parents: What, if anything, should we do?

Profane prayer

Foul language should neither offend nor shock a person who has spent any amount of time around a newsroom.

And so, when the night content production manager of The Baltimore Sun used some salty language during a workshop I attended the other day, the word did not surprise me.

But not because the term was one I've heard hundreds of times... and said hundreds of times... while in the daily production of a newspaper.

Cover of "Occupation Foole," on which
George Carlin uses the "bad word"
in a routine called "Filthy Words."

(Because this is a family blog, I won't use the word, but just know that George Carlin once called it "the heavy, the one you save for the end of the argument.")

The word didn't surprise me because I've heard more and more people use it in the same way John McIntyre used it.

The workshop McIntyre, a long-time copy editor, was leading was on skeptical editing. He said the copy editor is one who should come to the prose dispassionately, unlike an assigning editor or reporter, who views the work the same way a proud father watches his son score a touchdown.

No, the copy editor should be the devil's advocate. He or she should be the one to ask the awkward question. When the whole group says, "Yes, this is a great idea," the copy editor is the one who should, however the method, say, "Wait, something's not right here."

Unfortunately, copy editors are no longer viewed as important cogs in the machinations of news.

They're viewed as expensive: Many are older, a benefit to the green reporter learning a beat, but a curse to the budget-conscious media conglomerate that has an ever shrinking profit margin. Besides, the higher-ups think, that college-trained newbie should know how to use an archive and be familiar with proper grammar, style and punctuation.

McIntyre told the workshop that at one time, The Sun had 54 copy editors. Today, including him, there are four.

With this in mind, I asked John how a copy editor, who sometimes also has to fill the role of assigning editor at smaller newspapers, maintains the skeptical view needed to properly edit a story.

He sighed. Hands resting on his cane, he closed his eyes a moment, then looked toward the ceiling of The Sun's first-floor conference room.

He said that once the workshop was over, he would head upstairs to the newsroom and copy edit items for the bulldog edition of the Sunday paper, which is printed early. He then would slot the Saturday newspaper (which means deciding what stories go on what page), as well as copy editing some of those stories.

Along with that, he would be responsible for proofing pages. And as he was also slot for the Sunday paper, he said he'd have to start copy editing and handing out stories for that edition. And when that's completed, proofs of the business section awaited him.

"Then, at 1 o'clock, as I get home to my bourbon, I'll take a sip and pray that I didn't ---- anything up," he said.

As I stated, the way he used the swear is not the first time I've heard someone in the industry mix curse word with prayer.

And that's a sad commentary. For decades, it's been do more with less.

There should be people checking stories for more than just grammar and punctuation, if they even do that. There also should be copy editors to check for context, credibility, chronology and bias.

The wall of The Sun's conference room
contains front pages dating back to the
newspaper's founding in 1837

How many hundreds of people, be they print readers or web readers, are relying on the trustworthiness of your news organization?

Instead, more and more newspapers are slashing copy editing positions and asking reporters to self-edit before the story gets posted online.

Trust is the only real bond you have with the reading public. Journalists of bygone eras knew this, learning it over more than a hundred years of trial and error.

Working without a net can lead to some big losses in trust... and lawsuits.

One would think a copy editor's salary and health care is cheaper in the long run than being hauled into court. It's akin to taking out an insurance policy.

No. Apparently prayer should suffice.