In the reporter bullpen on the red carpet, a few correspondents gathered following the entrance of the celebs into the theater we had been positioned outside of. The three reporters, all from major magazines, launched into a quick conversation about how the print industry was dying and how everyone was screwed, opinions delivered with the right amount of insouciance such grand statements require. I wanted to interject but didn’t have the right opportunity to do so.

One of the reporters asked me earlier, “Are you in J-school?” When I said I was, she asked me if I was “freaking out.” When I delivered a mini-sermon about how I was happy to be doing journalism and would find my way no matter what, she didn’t seem to believe me. No - she absolutely did not believe me, her eyes narrowing as she said, “Really?” before turning to some other subject.

I shook Dan Rather’s hand and asked him a few questions, all totally unrelated to anything I might have been supposed to be asking him about, and instead, relating to journalism. Of course. I asked him whether he saw himself quitting, and he said, never. “Never because I love it too much.” That’s why someone like Dan Rather, at his age, continues to do it - not for the money, not for the acclaim, but for the allure of one more story.

When he was talking about the things he’s writing about in his new book, he said something that sums up how I feel: “Objective, truly objective journalism is the heartbeat of democracy.” On one hand, you might think, “Jeez, what a generic thing for an old man to say,” but on the other you would see that Dan Rather has seen enough and covered enough and knows enough that when he says this, it is something he believes in. And more than the format or the medium or the way it is done, good journalism will thrive because it is important. People want to read good stories - they’re just smart enough to know when it’s all bullshit. Convention and habit will not work any more - giving a shit, like Dan Rather does, must undergo a revival in j-school classrooms and red carpet bullpens.

Dan Rather is tall. I had to look up to meet his eye, even though I’m 6’1” (like the Liz Phair song). I told him my name, shook his hand, and wished him well; he told me to have a nice night, then walked away.