Scenes from a Pot-Pull

As marijuana eradications go, it was pretty weak. An armful of spindly plants, some overheated deputies and a far higher 'slog to weed' ration than I found logical... But truthfully, it was a buzz just being there. That's because it was 1992 and I'd yet to overdose on the thrill of the hunt. It wasn't my first pot-pull (please - no jokes!), but it was an early one and my field training was far from complete. When I noticed Photog Elder Woody Spencer pointing his camera at the the media pack, I looked forward to seeing what magic he'd craft from it. I just didn't know that nearly two decades would pass before I got a peek...

Seems Woody sold The Suits on a story about news crews themselves. His weekly features, Woody's World, were brilliant and I learned something from them every Friday evening. Still, I was a little surprised his bosses let him turn his camera on his office mates. But by doing so, they commissioned a rolling thesis on my biggest mentors, starting with this guy: Paul Dunn. Part good ole boy, part car salesman, ALL photog, Paul didn't teach me how to use a camera. He taught me how to take it to interesting places. I could write books on our many adventures, but for now, know this: TV News became a less interesting place the day he left the business.

But even swashbucklers have better halves. In Paul's case, it was his then girlfriend/now wife: Carolyn Kusbit. A forthright young woman from Pennsylvania, Carolyn was the kind of person my Father might call a Yankee. Watching her assimilate into the not so deep South was always a kick - until she started kicking ass and taking names. As a local reporter she was exacting, relentless and annoyingly committed to the truth. Our many, many crime scene conversations were the very basis for my humble blog and yellow tape billowing in the breeze still brings her cackle to mind. In Woody's piece, she comes off as Holly Hunter's character in 'Broadcast News'. That's no act - but it was a limited appearance. A full blown educator now, she was recently spotted defending her dissertation. You go, Dr. Dunn!

As talented as we deeply believed ourselves to be, nobody held a candle to this cat: Andy Cordan. A whirling dervish of lenses and machismo, Andy perfected the cop-car ride-a-long well before Bertram Van Munster pioneered COPS. Though I never could quite fully emulate his chutzpah, his balls-out approach to news-gathering left deep, deep imprints on my neophyte psyche.I still have a fond memory of Andy shoving a lens into a freshly shackled bank robber’s face and ’suggesting’ he show more emotion. Unlike Paul, Carolyn or even Woody, Andy Cordan is still at it, pounding the means streets of Nashville. If you see him down there, say 'Hi' for me. Then get the hell out of his way.

But enough of my rambling; just watch Woody's piece below. If memory serves me correct, it never aired, as Woody's bosses decided it was too 'self-serving'. (Pfft! What must they think of reality show contestants cluttering up newscasts now?) Thus I had to wait nearly 20 years to see just what my elder was up to. I should have known it would feature me floundering...

The Doctors Will See You Now...

In the latest episode of 'SCHLUBS', things get hinky on the surgery wing as a few visiting news crews slip away from a prostate operation photo-op and begin terrorizing both patients and staff. It's all harmless grab-ass at first, but when the rogue photogs towel-pop the wrong proctologist, a fist-fight ensues that threatens to quarantine the entire hospital. Special Guest Star Lou Ferigno as the overzealous security guard who restores order by tasering the trio until they shriek like little girls, soil their purloined scrubs and offer to shoot ANYONE'S daughter's wedding if only the big green guy will lay off the zapper. Viewer Discretion Advised.

Three Men and a BabyCam

Okay, so we TV News Photogs may not take the most elaborate trips - but our vacation videos are OFF THE CHAIN! At least that's the case with this latest moving picture opus featuring our Vegas adventure. Minutes after landing back in Raleigh, Chris Weaver began whittling away at all the footage we'd brought back - on a brand new editing system, no less! (Final Cut Pro, if you must know. Did I mention there's a gleaming new Mac in Team Slinger's future?) Anyway, the resulting clip has EVERYTHING: Bad Acting, Simulated 3-D and enough shots of my thinning hair to make me finally blow some coin on that bottle of Rogaine. But enough about me - how about that Weaver? and Rick? And Adam? And the soon to be featured Amanda Emily? Without any of them, none of these indulgent videos would have ever seen the light of day and you'd have no real idea what a goober I am in person. Come to think of it - whose idea was this anyway? I just wanted a quiet few days in Vegas: play a few slots, maybe take in a show... Now I gotta defend myself to the Photog Nation just 'cause we broke an axis or three, ditched our light kit and stuffed a rather large Californian in a rented sub-compact! Pfft! Like you don't do any of that on YOUR vacation...



Anyhoo, that's the last you'll hear about NAB 2010 for a while. It was great fun hanging out under no deadline but our own and to anyone who appeared in our silly little videos, I'd just like to say: Don't sweat it. Dignity is way overrated. Now, go watch these bloopers and be thankful you're not in them. Kinda wish I wasn't.

Have YOU Seen This Man?

MISSING: 30-something Man-Child. Last seen hovering over deviled-egg section of a questionable Las Vegas buffet. Answers to 'Adam', 'News-Hawk' and the occasional "Dude, you're blockin' the shot!" Originally from California; spotted on 4/13 trailing camera crew in seedy casino region surrounding Convention Center. Possesses limited social skills but highly trained in all things video. Supposed high intellect masked by slovenly facade. Known to frequent camera shops, tripod dives and photo shows. Easily dazzled by shiny objects. Information: Contact lenslinger@triad.rr.com NO Reward...

Queen of All Media

We here at the Lenslinger Institute have enjoyed Peggy Phillip's web presence for years, so when she strolled up on on the convention floor Monday, Weaver fired up the looking glass. (Adam even wandered by and snapped a photo before stumbling off toward the Steadicam tent.) Why all the fuss? Peggy's a TV News blogging pioneer and a nice lady to boot. Plus, the newsroom she runs calls its staffers Multi-Media Journalists or MMJ''s. That's a rather unsavory sobriquet in most cameras circles, where many an old school photog wishes the world would begin spinning the other way. It ain't. So while we cling to this heartless orb, let's listen to the lady herself, as Peggy Phillips tells us what color the sky is in her world. Hit it, Weave...

Jokers Eleven

Okay, so we're not the Rat Pack - but the motley photogs who joined me in Vegas have a swagger all their own. It's a loping, cocksure stride forged in heavy glass and crippled sticks. You'll find sexier beasts wandering Sin City, but few pedestrians are quite so street as the battered souls who call themselves Team 'Slinger. We are TV stevedores and our every step is tempered my decades of deadline met. Alright, so mostly we're suburban Dads with questionable backs and creaky knees, but the vagaries of the chase have left us inured to this glittering desert scab, for a career spent bent over a lens won't put too many chips in your pocket, but it will lengthen that thousand yard stare - which comes in damn handy when fending off the absurdities of The Strip. Now let's meet the players:

Anyone who's read this blog more than twice knows I have a deep abiding dependence on one Chris Weaver. What they probably don't know is that we knew each other well before El Ocho or that our Mamas live about a mile apart. That would make us partners from the start - which is just how we approach our little Vegas jaunts. Whereas I'm full of lofty notions and ten dollar words, Weaver possesses the street level sense to get us to the airport on time. That kind of common sense comes in handy - whether you're trying to make a flight or convince a race car driver to take your camera for a ride. Here Weaver can be seen tweaking a JVC for maximum time space continuum sensitivity, solely because I told him it couldn't be done. A good man to have in a scrap -- or anywhere else...


Attention: Should I choke on poker chips or comp tickets, this is the one man who can continue Viewfinder BLUES. Rick Portier (Miss Jackson if you're nasty) may call himself Turdpolisher, but he's selling himself short. Shooter, writer, philosopher; this Louisiana lenslinger is all that and more. Honestly, I shouldn't like the guy so much - as he's a lot like me. But his caustic wit and expansive hand motions win me over every time, 'cause I'm just a sucker for folks deeper than they first appear. Lately, he's even been gracing local airwaves with his stubbly mug and no one's thrown themselves off any tall buildings yet. Oh - ask about his theories on how monkeys and midgets can save local news, but buy a round of cocktails first: it's a lengthy pitch.

Far less familiar to readers is our next operative: a man known only as Adam K. I first met him ages ago - when he called himself 'NewsHawk', chased traffic accidents for a daily wage and regularly slept in his self-appointed news car. But don't let the lumbering facade fool you. There's not a lens he can't manipulate, an edit session he can't improve or a free buffet he cannot lessen. There's only one problem: He's a shadowy cat. Five minutes into the world's largest electronic media show and we all but lost him. That's just how he rolls, I guess, set at his own indecipherable speed, receiving phantom updates only he can hear. I just hope he's careful. A man that dangerous could end up dumped in the desert - or worse yet - babysitting a city council meeting...

But more on that later.

The King and I

Some seek out Elvis when they get to Vegas; I make a beeline for one Kevin Johnson. There I bask in the mellifluous baritone of the b-roll.net founder. We talk shop, hoist a few highballs, maybe close out with a song. Invariably, someone strikes up a lens and before you know it the whole damn thing is documented. So press the PLAY thingie above for more insider TV tech talk than you can probably stomach and know that no photogs were harmed in the making of this tape...