Weekend Edition Sunday

Conceived as a cross between a Sunday newspaper and CBS' Sunday Morning with Charles KuraltWeekend Edition Sunday features interviews with newsmakers, artists, scientists, politicians, musicians, writers, theologians and historians. The program has covered news events from Nelson Mandela's 1990 release from a South African prison to the capture of Saddam Hussein.

Weekend Edition Sunday debuted on January 18, 1987, with host Susan Stamberg. Two years later, Liane Hansen took over the host chair, a position she held for 22 years. In that time, Hansen interviewed movers and shakers in politics, science, business and the arts. Her reporting travels took her from the slums of Cairo to the iron mines of Michigan's Upper Peninsula; from the oyster beds on the bayou in Houma, La., to Old Faithful in Yellowstone National Park; and from the kitchens of Colonial Williamsburg, Va., to the Lorraine Motel in Memphis, where Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated. In the fall of 2011, NPR National Desk Reporter Audie Cornish began hosting the show.

Every week listeners tune in to hear a unique blend of news, features and the regularly scheduled puzzle segment with Puzzlemaster Will Shortz, the crossword puzzle editor of The New York Times.

Weekend Edition Sunday is heard on NPR Member stations across the United States and around the globe via NPR Worldwide. The conversation between the audience and the program staff continues throughout the social media world.

Zynga's former CEO is back, less than two years after leaving the company he founded. The company had a smash hit with Farmville on Facebook, but has struggled to stay current in new markets.

Remember those days of tending rows of virtual soybeans and strawberries on your Facebook page with a game called Farmville? It was a moment, and Zynga, the company that makes the game, cashed in when it went public back in 2011.

Now, Zynga is losing money and its founder is back, to mixed reviews.

When Zynga launched Farmville in 2009, it surprised everyone with its success. It quickly became the most popular game on Facebook.

But people got bored with planting seeds on a desktop. The market had moved to mobile, and Zynga didn't keep up.

That's why founder Mark Pincus stepped down as CEO in July 2013, and Don Mattrick, former head of Microsoft's Interactive Entertainment division, took the helm.

"Don was brought in to put them on the path of what they called 'mobile first,' — So let's build our games to be on mobile platforms before they're on Facebook," says Michael Pachter, an analyst with Wedbush Securities.

Pachter says Mattrick did get some great games in the works. In Empires & Allies, players save the world from a modern-day terrorist organization called the GRA — by dropping bombs, not seeds.

The game looks like a winner to Pachter. He's keen on Pincus, because he thinks he'll get it out faster.

"Pincus is a tech entrepreneur who's coming from an environment where decisions are made in a second," Pachter says. "A week is too long."

But, getting a company that's been losing tens of millions of dollars back on the road to success will require more than speed, says analyst P.J. McNeely. When Pincus left the company 18 months ago, it was a mess. With the announcement on Wednesday of his return, the stock tumbled.

McNeely says Pincus tried a lot of strategies in his previous incarnation as CEO.

"None of that has worked," he says. "So unless Pincus has some magic plan, it's back to Farmville."

Back to Farmville indeed. While Mattrick was running the company, he planted a lot of seeds: he did some restructuring and got new mobile games in the pipeline.

It's possible those games will grow and mature under Pincus, who will get the credit if they bear fruit.

Copyright 2015 NPR. To see more, visit http://www.npr.org/.

One of the two female ospreys that scuffled over the male on the Boulder Cou...
Forget Big Brother and Real Housewives. Local governments and nonprofits are starting to capitalize on our unquenchable thirst for reality programming — in the form of bird nest cams.

Fans of Boulder County's osprey nest cam saw a bit of drama last season.

Two females and a male were living in the nest, when a third female arrived and kicked the original female out. Observers said she bonded with the male.

"People called it ... the 'home-wrecker osprey,' " says Nik Brockman, Boulder County's web specialist.

A romantic slight is the bread-and-butter of reality TV programming, and the storyline plays just as well to nest-cam watchers. Since the osprey cam fired up four years ago, Brockman says it's become the most popular page on the county's web site.

Brockman's not the only web specialist to notice those page views. Just like the producers of Big Brother, Survivor and the Real Housewives franchise, local governments and non-profits around the country are beginning to capitalize on our unquenchable thirst for reality programming — in the form of bird nest cams.

So when the camera got zapped by lightning last year, Boulder spent thousands to re-install it.

"It's a good combination ... using technology to see what's going on that you might not be able to see at the ground level, but also raising issues around open space and wildlife preservation," Brockman says.

Preservation is what drew Bob Anderson and the Raptor Resource Project into nest cams more than a decade ago. Today, the bald eagle camera he set up in Decorah, Iowa, is one of the most-watched in the country.

Anderson says regular viewers gain a sense of ownership of the birds.

"Somewhere between 50 hours and 500 hours of watching whatever bird cam blows your dress up, it becomes your birds," he says.

Anderson says everyone from students in classrooms to people with disabilities who can't get outdoors have been tuning in since eaglets appeared recently. He thinks it's the social components make the Decorah camera so popular — an army of volunteers who post pictures and field questions.

Charles Eldermire is the bird cams project leader at the Cornell Lab of Ornithology in New York. His lab hosts six to 10 cameras, depending on the time of the year.

"It's relatively small investment for what might be a very large amount of web traffic," Eldermire says.

The story doesn't end with the cameras, he explains. The live feed appears on a web page with a timeline, frequently asked questions on the species and Facebook links.

"That gives you a great audience to then talk to, about, at least for us, as a nonprofit, what our mission is," Eldermire says.

It's led to teachable moments for the lab's viewing audience around the perils of plastics for the Laysan Albatross.

But Eldermire says a 24/7 live feed of wild creatures can also create awkward situations, like when one nestling is trying to kill another.

"We don't sugar-coat anything, but what we try and do is provide enough information, and in an engaging enough way, that people aren't surprised by what's going to happen, and they know we are thinking of them, as viewers, when we're crafting the environment that they can watch it in," he says.

Eldermire says volunteers are on call at all hours, so if there's an event like death, viewers are notified before they load the nest cam.

In Boulder County, the osprey nest cam has gotten another dose of drama this year. Brockman says once again the nest is the setting for another home-wrecker scenario — with the same two females from last season scuffling over the male and the nest.

Brockman says thousands of viewers tuned in last year. The county hopes this year's intrigue brings a repeat performance.

"We're just kind of watching and seeing what happens," he says.

Copyright 2015 Colorado Public Radio. To see more, visit http://www.cpr.org.

Sixteen million Americans had at least one major depressive episode in the past year. Of that number, many struggle with whether and how to talk about their depression in the workplace.

When a pilot crashed a Germanwings plane into a mountainside on the south of France last month, one word kept coming up over and over in the media coverage: depression.

What did the airline know about the pilot's mental health and what was he required to tell them? Of course being depressed is a very different thing from wanting to take the lives of others.

But experts we talked with said that an event like this one — a violent act carried out by someone with a mental illness — increases the stigma for everyone with mental illness.

It also becomes more difficult for people with depression to be open about it.

According to the National Institute of Mental Health, 16 million Americans had at least one major depressive episode in the past year. Of that number, many struggle with whether and how to talk about their depression in the workplace.

This week on For The Record: Disclosing depression.

We spoke with two people with different perspectives on the question. (Click on the audio link to hear their full stories.)

Jay Lynch, professor of medicine, the University of Florida

Lynch struggled with acute depression and went years without getting help. Lynch, an oncologist, has helped a lot of people suffering from cancer over many years. Some survive and some do not, and it started to wear on him.

Then a series of events threw him off. First, Sept. 11; two weeks after that, the son of one of his best friends killed himself. Then a patient he was very close to passed away. Lynch's wife hurt her back so it was up to him to manage their four kids.

He started to play a grim kind of mental game that started with a question.

"What if I was going to write a book and have the perfect suicide, what would that look like?" Lynch remembers. "If I can pull it off and it looks like an accident, then everybody's happy."

He never told anyone he was having these kinds of thoughts, not his wife, not his friends and definitely not anyone at work.

"And then one afternoon I was talking to a patient who's a very close friend," he says. "I just broke down talking to him, and I realized, 'OK, I can't hold it together anymore. I need to get the help I need,' and called one of my friends in psychiatry."

Susan Goldberg, assistant professor, Duquesne University

Goldberg, who studies mental illness, says using the word "depression" is tricky.

"The thing with depression," she says, "is that it can range from sort of mild being out-of-sorts that most people experience from time to time, to a very severe situation where people cannot get out of bed and feel lethargic and exhausted and have no reason for living. So the problem with our discourse is that the word depression covers this whole range."

Goldberg has done a lot of research about what happens to people when they tell friends, family or co-workers about their depression. She says it's not good to hide depression, but cautions people to be careful how and to whom they disclose their struggle.

"For some people — for most people I would think — having a friend, someone you can trust, someone you can say, 'Geez, today is a really rough day, I'm just struggling to make it through,' to have that kind of person in your work life would be really important," she says.

The problem is more common than people think, Goldberg says.

"I assure you, people listening to this, you have worked with someone with a mental health condition who has simply chosen not to disclose," she says.

My Three Takeaways

First, we throw around the word depression too much, and it's not specific enough to encompass everything we use it for. Someone who is mildly depressed is far different from someone who is contemplating suicide, yet we use the same word to describe both situations. I know I throw that word "depressed" around a lot very casually and I'm going to think more before using it.

Second, in the reporting for this story, we ended up focusing on someone whose depression was triggered by a lot of external events. But it's important to remember that that's not how depression happens for everyone. Sometimes someone can feel acutely depressed, and it's not connected to something that's happened. They haven't lost a loved one or suffered some kind of tragedy, and that can sometimes make the condition harder to understand, recognize and thus treat.

Third, just because someone is thinking about killing themselves doesn't mean they can't still be effective at their job. This seems a little counterintuitive, because you'd think that someone who was so consumed by such despair couldn't possibly be able to function. But they can, and sometimes, depending on the work, they can fulfill their tasks without raising any red flags, which is why mental illness can be so hard to detect in our loved ones — and in ourselves.

Copyright 2015 NPR. To see more, visit http://www.npr.org/.