I’m a bad Buddhist

I have an Italian temper that I’ve worked my whole life to transmute from lead to gold, but I’m so mad I could scream like they do in those horror films.

My sweetie and I have tended to variety of trees planted against the back yard fence – Cypress, Pear, Lavatara, Sambuca, beautiful and full, providing a sanctuary of greenery and flowers — and a practical screen for the ugliness of some neighbors’ backyards.

The neighbor who lives behind us, a landscape architect who should know better, just hacked down all of our beautiful trees on his side of the fence.

Granted, some of the branches were hanging into his yard. But now, the privacy that has taken us, and the previous owners, years to cultivate, is gone. Poof.

Today we can easily see right into his house and backyard. Worse still, now we have a clear view of his ratty shed and all the crap he keeps in his backyard that is strewn about like a junkyard.

We called the city to find out our rights and it turns out we have none. There is no recourse whatsoever even if he has irrevocably damaged our mature trees. Even if they die or fall over, because now they are lopsided and hacked up, we would have to retain a lawyer and sue to get them back.

I had just done a long meditation this morning and was thinking thoughts of peace and love and light — which have now turned to dark revenge fantasies.

Can you relate?

This is often people’s experience not just with neighbors, but with the media. They cultivate their business (garden) for years, tending to it carefully, only to have their message hacked up by the media either through careless reporting, inaccurate editing, or a perspective skewed for the sake of their story. Years of building a reputable business can be torn down in a two minute TV segment or a page in a magazine or newspaper.

Do you sue the reporter, host or producer? No. You rebuild and tend your garden ever more carefully and — eventually — maybe, let it go. Years ago I spent a good hour and half with a New York Times reporter thrilled that I was going to be in this prestigious paper. Days later, when the piece came out I found my words quoted by someone else whose credentials better suited the story. They were my words, but my name didn’t appear anywhere in the piece.

Did I call him up and give him a taste of my Italian temper? No. Have I let it go? Not really. It still peeves me. But I will. Eventually. I think. But you can bet I won’t forget. This is the nature of the media, and our lives.

And while I don’t yet have a solution to deal with my Italian temper or my reckless and inconsiderate neighbor, I do have one for managing the media.

Media coaching.

It’s not a guarantee that nothing you say will be misquoted, taken out of context or misrepresented, but it will help you feel like you’re in control of your own words, business, sanity and destiny. It’s the missing link that helps insure that your story will get told accurately, as you envisioned it. Not as the media envisioned it for you.

If this is something that resonates for you at this time, summer is a wonderful season to appear on the media. Go here.  It’s a slow time for them so there is more latitude for stories that get left on the cutting room floor for breaking news, holidays and pressing matters.

As for me and my feisty spirit. Pray for me, will you?

The photo you see here our trellis pre hacking. You can see our garden which was featured in the June issue of Better Homes & Gardens on page 108. I think I’ll go out and sniff some of our flowers to help me calm down.

What’s your worst media experience?