Whereas I prefer to leave them back at the studio, back in the day the field crews at WNCT always insisted on bringing the station jackass along. Go figure...
Saturday, March 19, 2005
From the Archives. . .
Whereas I prefer to leave them back at the studio, back in the day the field crews at WNCT always insisted on bringing the station jackass along. Go figure...
The Unknown Photog
Attention all Piedmont Camera Jockeys! A good guy to know at the crime scene tape has a special request. Mark Childrey, former Public Information Officer with the Rockingham County Sheriff's Department wants to know who's interviewing him in this photo. I can tell him now that the gentlemen in the middle is none other than my colleague Jeff Kilduff, a fine fellow I've swapped many a live truck with. But the name of the dude to the right escapes me. That's pathetic, as we've both loitered by the same flashing lights a time or two. Is there anyone out there who reveal the identity of this nameless shooter? Anyone? Bueller? If so, drop a comment and be the first on your block to ID the man in the white checkered shirt.
While you're at it, check out Childrey's own broadcasting efforts at "Monday Night Live", the eponymous website of Reidsville's STAR-39's premiere production. Check local listings for showtimes.
Friday, March 18, 2005
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
Suitable for Framing
Normally I wouldn't subject my half dozen readers to this, but look who my friend beFrank ran into at work today. You remember beFrank - that coolest of West Coast news photogs who blogs at the speed of sound. Lately he's been enduring a courtside seat at the trial of the century, er week, er whatever. As with most news assignments, it ain't as fun as it sounds, but today the stars aligned and beFrank got the moniest of shots of the world's most famous alien. Eeeeew...Tuesday, March 15, 2005
People That Matter
Well, there you have it - a peek inside my life far outside the newsroom. Just don't get too used to it. I promise to join you next time with yet another pithy epistle on the madness and magic of TV news. Hey, it's ALL I know...
One of THOSE days
You ever have one of THOSE days?
. . .You know, the kind of day where you wake up feeling like dirt, but aren’t quite sick enough to stay home so you go in hoping for an easy day. But then you get to the office and quickly realize It won’t be an easy day, but another ten hour shift of marathon newsgathering.
You ever have one of THOSE days?
. . .When you find yourself piloting a wobbly live truck all over the Piedmont Triad, watching helplessly as your assignment falls until you and your partner are finally dispatched to a story that’s not going anywhere - a fatal house fire.
You ever have one of THOSE days?
. . .When after popping off the obligatory roadside shots of a gutted Grandmother’s home, time stands still as you and your semi-callous news buddies loiter by the highway for what seems like hours only to be rewarded with fifteen seconds of barely-usable firefighter soundbite.
You ever have one of THOSE days?
. . .When you find yourself being berated by angry family members who are upset at you for standing at the edge of their personal tragedy with fancy cameras and high powered microphones, even if you’re doing so in a quiet, respectful manner as humanly possible.
You ever have one of THOSE days?
. . .When you watch the investigators take down the yellow crime tape and retreat to their favorite greasy spoon while you frantically edit footage, establish a signal and set up lights, tripod and cable - all while inhaling the very finest in Live truck generator fumes.
You ever have one of THOSE days?
. . .When you keep quiet behind the viewfinder and think about your own family as your reporter runs down the details of an elderly couple succumbing to the smoke inhalation in their sleep?
You ever have one of THOSE days?
. . .When at the end of the shift you avoid making eye contact with glaring family members as you roll up cable, take down lights and pack up gear - all the while becoming increasingly convinced you’re wasting your life processing random sadness into easily-digested video morsels for all the Piedmont to ignore over dinner.
You ever have one of THOSE days?
. . .I have, more times than I can count.
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