In my previous quote about panic, I didn’t get around to the event that helped formulate that phrasing. Jeremy Pepper reminded me about the need for the back story, with his comment about remaining stone-faced to the point of annoying his friends.
Location: Somewhere in a news jeep, trolling around the county.
Characters:
- Ike – an idealistic somewhat youthful veteran of television news reporting, being stretched to the limits of human endurance, tolerance, and the time-space continuum.
- Stephanie – an idealistic somewhat youthful veteran of television news videography, being stretched to the limits of human endurance, tolerance, and the time-space continuum.
Scene: We join our protagonists just after they have again been asked to do something, that even if it were feasibly possible, would undoubtedly be not worth the effort, and potentially embarrassing even if successful. Non-newsies have a word for such a situation. They would call it “Thursday.”
I’m not going to pretend to remember the conversation, nor the particulars. Men aren’t very good at remembering what other people say, which dovetails nicely with their inherent inability to remember what comes out of their own mouths. As it happens, I don’t have to recount much of a dialogue, because for several minutes, nothing came from my mouth.
Having been tasked with a futile feat of Sisyphean proportions, Stephanie snapped. Besides being one of the most talented photogs I ever worked with, and a great journalist in her own right, she was known for being opinionated and headstrong on her most ‘open-minded’ day. Yet I was unprepared for the diatribe that was to come. (Disclaimer: Stephanie is alive and well, and like this author, a happy ex-newsie whose fondness for telling old war stories is only matched by her enthusiasm that those days are behind her. She’s happy, working for a church, and has most certainly dropped from her vocabulary many of the words and phrases that came from this scene. But I digress.)
Nothing came from my mouth, including exhaling. That would have caused movement, and I could tell that Stephanie was likely to obliterate the next thing that moved in an unsympathetic manner. (Funny enough, she was driving, and I never had the sense that we were in danger. She always managed to drive well, even when ranting, to the point of using the turn signal… sorry, another digression.)
As I said, I wasn’t moving or saying anything. I was letting her vent. She was obviously building to a climax. We now rejoin that rant, already in progress:
“And do you know what ******* me off the most! You’re not even angry about it!”
I sat up, and calmly said “No, you’re wrong. I’m probably angrier than you are. But if we’re going to survive this day together, one of us is going to have to be rational at all times. Let me know when you are done, and I’ll take over.”
She paused.
She thought.
She thought again, and said “Oh. Okay. I feel better now. Your turn!” and smiled.
I ripped off a nice 30-second diatribe of my own, and we were good to go.
[tags]Ike Pigott, Occam’s RazR, Jeremy Pepper, quotes, rants, journalism[/tags]
I frequently spent my time with my favorite photog Rick Mize dreaming up ways of not returning to the newsroom. We had a phrase for the morons who spent their time sitting at a desk thinking up ways of degrading us when we returned with nothing resembling their “brilliant” morning meeting idea. It was “Kill With Stick.”
That always helped us recover from the morning meeting and look for something worth reporting on.
We also came up with an entire skit revolving around the “Barbeque Party Wagon,” but that’s another story for another time.
Now that was funny. Makes me wonder which stupid thing you were having to do.
Wow! I haven’t laughed this hard in ages!
I must admit, I cannot remember what madness the “Brain Trust” had us chasing that day. I can, however, tell you the exact curve of I-65N where the last quote was uttered… just approaching UAB… The reporter/photog team became friends for life. Day in and day out… After that point, I had a new found respect for my pencil pushing lens meat. (Don’t worry, he loves it when I call him lens meat.)
I’ve been “out” for almost 2 years now. Recently I was asked, “So, would you go back?” My reply: “No. Well, maybe if… No. Well, only if… No. No, not a chance.”
Those days taught me so much… about myself, about humanity, but mostly about my own humanity.
I have a passion for story telling. I have a passion for truth. Those two characteristics cannot co-exist in today’s newsroom. I’m still opinionated and headstrong. I’m just better at keeping my mouth shut. I guess because I don’t use a lot of that language anymore. But I digress.
Now, as Ike has explained… I am alive and well, working for my church, happily titled “ex-newsie”. Funny, all that time in and around newsrooms, cops and crime scenes… really comes in handy working with teenagers!
I would say that I miss the teamwork, the competition and the deadlines. But how could I? I’m on a winning team now. The Sony DigiCam I shoot with now is awesome. I’ve learned Avid editing and I shoot stills almost everyday. The deadlines are fewer, but just as firm. But oh, the creative freedom! Not to mention the trust.
I told someone just the other day… “I live in a bit of a bubble now. But I’ve been in the world. I love my bubble. Nobody lies, yells, curses, or throws anything… And not once have I had to put on a flack jacket.” 😉
I am titled: “Media Specialist”, “Bookstore Manager”, “Director of Research”, and “Youth Worker”. However, never will I relinquish my favorite title: “That Chick Photog”!
Panic? What’s that?