No doubt about it, my very first fancycam was the size of a fridge - and about as mobile. One didn't operate it so much as molest it. With a rickety middle and sticky wheels, proper cameratology was damn near impossible. Today's studio cameras can be whisked across the room with the whim of a fingertip. Pushing the above puppy into place was like slow-dancing with a drunken robot. For more than a year though, ole Number Two and I waltzed five time a week, sashaying over a studio floor tattooed with a generation of skidmarks - the footprints of a hundred thousand newscasts. Still, I consider it an honor to have worked on one of the longest running morning news shows yet, Carolina Today. From 1959 to 1998, Slim Short and a host of cohorts broadcast a low budget hoke-fest that pioneered many facets of morning news infotainment. I stumbled onto the set in 1989, one more wash-out in a long line of troubled camera handlers. Before I abandoned the insides for the open road, I ate countless free biscuits, knocked back bad coffee with local legends I grew up watching and became clinically addicted to committing television. Too bad my back was never the same.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Escorting Slobot
No doubt about it, my very first fancycam was the size of a fridge - and about as mobile. One didn't operate it so much as molest it. With a rickety middle and sticky wheels, proper cameratology was damn near impossible. Today's studio cameras can be whisked across the room with the whim of a fingertip. Pushing the above puppy into place was like slow-dancing with a drunken robot. For more than a year though, ole Number Two and I waltzed five time a week, sashaying over a studio floor tattooed with a generation of skidmarks - the footprints of a hundred thousand newscasts. Still, I consider it an honor to have worked on one of the longest running morning news shows yet, Carolina Today. From 1959 to 1998, Slim Short and a host of cohorts broadcast a low budget hoke-fest that pioneered many facets of morning news infotainment. I stumbled onto the set in 1989, one more wash-out in a long line of troubled camera handlers. Before I abandoned the insides for the open road, I ate countless free biscuits, knocked back bad coffee with local legends I grew up watching and became clinically addicted to committing television. Too bad my back was never the same.
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1 comment:
..."like slow-dancing with a drunken robot"...Your prose is good enough to eat!
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