We should, but that doesn't mean me will

I recently made the mistake of taking someone at their word. This was a PR, so yes, I realize that was my first mistake.


However, when I went back to read their previous e-mail supposedly promising me answers to some questions the next day, I saw that the publicist had said "should". Should as in "we should have them to you by tomorrow".


I then realized that top level publicists must be well-versed in the art of dishones-uh, I mean-putting-someone-offishness. Sorry, is there a proper word for this? Or should I hold off looking that up until tomorrow?


This subtle difference is, of course, clear when I tutor ESL and have to explain to my student that when one says "should" it is not definite, but more definite than "may" and certainly more than "could".


So why is it that I took a "should get it to you tomorrow" as definite? Was it because I was desperate to meet my deadline (which, by the way, has passed) or was I projecting my own integrity onto that of the PR? I believe it was the latter. And again, see first graf, that was my first mistake.

Now, I have my problems. I can be impulsive, reacting to people and incidents when I should - that's should mind you - let the profanity/lost keys/burnt toast/Vogue cover (Kim and Kanye--reallllllly?) - just roll off me.


But one thing I never do is mislead people. I wouldn't even know where to start. As it is, when I look at my CV and see "basic French" I think, 'Should I explain what my definition of 'basic' is?"


And is my honesty and transparency the reason I am not as rich as the other person on the end of that "should" e-mail? And will my haughty self-righteousness guarantee me a place in heaven, replete with seven male virgins (not that that would be attractive, but I'm an equal opportunity fantasizer.)


If I, for example, started saying "Should" tomorrow, with whom should I start? I know, my mother. Next time she asks if I am coming for Christmas, I will say, "I should expect so."


Of course that won't be good enough for Mom, a retired fifth grade teacher and now a substitute teacher in Texas.


"Should? You SHOULD choose your words more carefully."


"Okay, I WILL, I WILL come for Christmas."


I could, though, try "Should" on the bus driver. "I should pay the fare."


Eye roll. "Really? I SHOULD kick you off this bus."


"Oh, okay."


"Should" on my cat?


"I SHOULD feed you."


"MEOW".


"Oh, okay...."


...
Let's face it, I'm just not cut out for subterfuge. And it's probably too late for me to start emulating wealthier scribes who obviously have no regard for my time or my feelings. But apparently, what they do have regard for are the nuances of language.


And that is something I can respect.

Hashtag I wonder, hashtag if I am editorializing?

Having just tweeted a story about a promising new AIDS drug cocktail for babies, I was left wondering if I was editorializing. Not by posting the story--though it could be argued that what a journalist chooses to post reflects her judgment and is hence, subjective--but by how I chose to hashtag it. This needs no explanation for anyone even remotely in or aware of the twittersphere; hashtag, notanewsflash.

So what are the rules about tweeting and journalism? If this has been written about somewhere, I am sure I haven't yet seen it. Sure, there are variations on this theme, such as how to add followers or find the right followers, how to create cool hastags and how to teach your dog to tweet.

But what about the hashtag itself?

I ask you, if I post one of my own articles such as I did today, regarding a decision in a New Orleans courthouse that upholds an earlier decision concerning payouts to businesses affected by the BP oil spill, if I hastag it #spillnews, am I editorializing? After all, there are spills every week, somewhere, to some degree, somewhere on the planet (I have not looked this up, but I, hashtag, am guessing.)

If I write #importantstory, that is obviously an editorial slant, but what about posting BP's point of view, linking to their press release?

I bring this up in part because in a recent blog I had published on Muck Rack, I discussed how PRs could win over the journalist. While I received largely flattering and favorable feedback, there was one sad sack on a Linkedin Group who dragged me over hot coals, accusing me of heading into the dark side myself if I wrote about, as I called it, "rogue Republicans".

I never quite did get his message, and I am kidding about the sad sack bit (don't know him), but the effect on me was actually more long lasting than anything the flatterers had to say. Here's why: we have to really keep a close guard on this thing we call journalistic integrity because it's threatening to slip away with every tweet.

I actually heard on John Tesh last night -- and I make no apologies for loving his radio show -- that people cuss more on social media than they do in person. Well, I certainly don't, but that is because I know Big Brother or Sister at my next dream job is watching me. (Also, my swear words aren't that imaginative. If I was a really good cusser like Chelsea Handler or Bill Maher, that might be a different story.)

So if we cuss our way through our tweets and hashtag everything, what's left of our objective journalistic self? Sure, Hunter S. Thompson would have loved the twittersphere and would have been hashtagging his way to the hash. He would have thought up all new swear words to hashtag: #slore (That was one a 20-something shared with me during a jealous rage a few years ago; and if you can't figure out what it means, psst: it's two words in one.)

I urge everyone who tweets and practices journalism, especially professionally, to take a more cautious approach to their next post. If you post a story about the president visiting Connecticut, don't tell me #excitedashell or #gagmewithamicrophone.

Keep your opinions to yourself. Unless, of course, you want to find a job in digital marketing, in which case there are #alotmorelucrativeopportunities.