Editors Note:


EDITOR'S NOTE: Fresh off a three year managerial stint, your friendly neighborhood lenslinger is back on the street and under heavy deadline. As the numbing effects of his self-imposed containment wear off, vexing reflections and pithy epistles are sure to follow...

Sunday, September 30, 2007

Knocking Down Sunlight

I've not worked a nightshift in many a moon, but from what I recall, they can be laborious. See, the freaks do come out at night. They like to light protest candles, stab their baby's mama and hold county commisioner meetings - usually at the most inconvenient times... Sure, there are some perks. Parking improves when the suits leave for the day and the hassle-factor plummets. Not that the average shooter spends alot of time in the newsroom. More likely, they're crisscrossing the Tri-County Metroplex, dashing from the home-schooler's prom to that wicked curve out by the dashboard factory, from the Inner City fish fry to the old lady axe murder. "Just chop-chop, wouldya? We need you to swing by the airport for the Balloon Glow. Starts at eight. I'm sure it won't take long. Hey, have fun with it!"

And so it goes for the nightsider. Sure, some evenings are spent with reporters, hammering out a singular piece and finding the perfect empty building to drench with light at ten o clock. But many more dusks are schizophrenic; sunlight fading over scribbled directions as lone photogs gather up the flotsam and jetsam of the evening newscast. It's all enough to make one feel like an outsider, albeit one with an 'in' all over town. Like the midnight cab driver and the third shift traffic cop, the folks who work the late shows traffic in happenstance and pageantry. I'm not saying it's easier on days, but if a flying saucer crashes into Lake Lookie-Loo in broad daylight, I know I'm not the only logo on the clock. The nocturnal set, not so much...

All of which brings me to the old warehouse fire on the edge of town. No, it wasn't on the rundown, but it seems some kids thought it would be a good idea to fire bottle-rockets into the dry cotton storage bins, so could you roll on it? I know it's half past midnight and all your batteries are dead, but Lenny's not answering his pager again and we heard on the scanner that The Deuce''s sat truck just pulled up. They're probably gonna stay for their morning show but we don't need you to. Just get some flames on tape, milk a few gawkers for some on-camera sound, give the cops your business card and maybe do a phoner or two. C'mon, that onion burger combo you got riding shotgun will wait just a few counties longer. Hmm? I hear the industrial park is lovely this time of night...

(Thanks to Cadencefilm for use of his excellent photos)

1 comment:

turdpolisher said...

Who says you've forgotten what it's like to work the darkside?

You boiled it down to it's very essence.

Can you get the tape back for the end of the show?