But it ain't all manhunts and catnaps. There's the peril of office politics in between... Finicky equipment, predatory competitors and the soul-eroding grind of a 24/7 news cycle: just a few of the other reasons we photogs age like sitting Presidents. It's also why most news shooters would rather babysit a grave-exhumation in the pouring rain than answer a single ringing telephone on the assignment desk. See, for all our gruff facades and bulging utiliy vests, television news photographers are passionate storytellers. The good ones, anyway. Unlike producers, who get high-fived by management whenever the overnight tea-leaves claim them a winner or the reporters, who regularly star in their own slow-motion promos, there ain't alot of glory for the sore shoulder set. Instead, there's the grind; the constant feeling that the miracle you pulled off yesterday is already ancient history. Or as the Turdpolisher himself so succintly puts it:
This business with its constant deadlines, multiple stories a day, live shots, unreasonable demands from the suits, has a way of beating a man down. Completing this task invariably takes time and quality away from that task. And I'm the kind of guy that hates to let the story down. For me, it ain't about the reporter, the station, the newscast, or even the person in front of my lens. It's about the story. And when I know a story ain't gonna be all that it can because of the everyday demands to feed the beast, it eats me up inside.Do me a favor, Rick. When it stops eating you up inside, walk away. We could both make a fine living writing greeting cards for the terminally depressed.