Tactician. Quartermaster. Guide. A good satellite truck operator is all that and more. They have to be - for pitching a dish on the edge of happenstance doesn’t come without some forethought. Almost anybody can drive a truck. But not everyone can wedge it into a motel courtyard in driving rain, bleed cable up three flights of stairs and turn a seaside balcony into a hurricane studio. Nor can everyone ‘fly casual’ in a screaming billboard, penetrate the heart of a packed coliseum lot, or nurse that puppy up Grandfather Mountain. Everyone can’t spout coordinates like nursery rhymes, spot dry a misted lens with two wire coat hangers and even pack a few stale munchies for the crew. Just watch how you roll up their stuff at the end of the shift, for this particular breed of gear-hound is dangerously anal. Hell, I know one Irishman who can browbeat rent-a-cops through a dirty windshield, make grown cameramen cry at the loss of a single coax cable and recite from memory the daily specials of a thousand greasy spoons.
You won't get that from a laptop.