Breaking News

Okay, so maybe it wasn't breaking news. But it was a big story. A small Cessna aircraft crashed while it was trying to land at the local airport. The pilot was the only one on board. He died on impact.

That's the story I covered today. I guess you could say it was my first big story. I got into work about 9 am and was immediately sent to the scene. Later in the day we found out the plane probably crashed around 6 pm...the previous day. I sat in wonder and thought "how could we only be finding out about this now. It happened yesterday." To be fair to us, the competition didn't know about it either. But still...it was a long time. Whatever, I'm missing my original point.

Breaking news is what I love about being a reporter. I love the excitement of a big story unfolding before your eyes. Part of starting a news career in a small town is to gain experience. Breaking news isn't easy to cover. Everyone involved has to think on their feet. Things happen fast. I may love it but I know I need practice in covering it. I got a little bit of practice today with this story. But it's a little frustrating that "breaking news" means within minutes in most cities. In Montana, it apparently means "within a couple days." Oh well. I suppose things can't be perfect.

On a side note. It was 10 degrees outside while I was covering this story. My hands got cold. Very cold. On the trip back to the station they began to warm up again. I have never felt such pain before. As they warmed up it was a constant, slow, intense throbbing pain. It was horrible. Just thought I'd share.

Oh and while I love Montana, and have spent one winter here, the cold isn't so fun when you don't have a big mountain to snowboard on to look forward to.

Easy Kathryn, that wasn't a slam on Montana. It was a slam on winter.

Eight Days

....that's when I make my debut as co-anchor of the ten o'clock news. I've gotten accustomed to my live reports now. I still get nervous but not as bad as the first time. Anchoring is a bit different though. I'm live for 30 minutes every night. Scary. I've done some practice run throughs and I'll be doing some more this week. To be honest they've been a little rough. I can read the prompter just fine and I sound like a news anchor if I do say so myself. But I get nervous up there and my mind just sort of freezes up when something goes wrong. They've been making things go wrong on purpose to see how I react. It's not pretty. I look like a deer in the headlights. But it's necessary I guess. I suppose I'd rather be more prepared for a disaster when it really happens. Here's an example. I never thought I'd have a problem with all the banter your news anchors like to engage in. Well, when you're nervous and worried about when you're supposed to talk next, and the director is barking demands into your ear, and your co-anchor is talking it's hard to remember what they've even said. So on a practice run through my co-anchor finishes her script, turns to me and says something off the cuff. I have no idea what she's said. All I know is that we're supposed to toss it to weather and she's just asked me a question about the fog or Christmas or little puppies. I have no idea which, because I wasn't really listening. So I stare at her, stare at the prompter and look dazed. It was rather embarrassing. But at least it wasn't live. It's also important to keep the paper script in front of you on the right page. I've got to work on that. They stopped the prompter on me and my script was on the wrong page. So I had no idea what to say. Blah, blah blah. The list goes on an on. All I know is that I'm scared. But I'm excited. I'm excited beyond words. I get to be a news anchor. I smile when I think about it. Sorry for all the news talk. I'm sure it bores whoever reads this. But it's more of a journal to me anyway.

Lincoln

Any old job

I've only been at this news reporter/anchor thing for a week now and already I can see that my job is just like any other job. I don't think people realize that. Sure we all do different things in life. But when it comes down to it, we are all...working. I wake up in the morning, very warm and comfortable in my bed, and think, "ugh..I don't want to go to work today." I'm not complaining. I really do like my job. But it is a job. Given a limitless amount of money to support myself I would choose to be snowboarding or hiking or spending time with friends. Most of us can't do that however. We have to work to support ourselves. That's when it becomes important to like what you do. I guess I'm fortunate in that regard. Like I said, I haven't been at it long but I do enjoy my work. I just don't want people to think it's not...work. Because it is. I've tried to start thinking this way when I picture other jobs. Maybe that actress makes a ton of money and is known the world over. But when she's filming a movie she probably doesn't like working 14-hour days and memorizing script change after script change. Maybe the zookeeper who LOVES animals doesn't want to deal with the attitude coming from the chimps today. Maybe the basketball star doesn't really feel like running around the court tonight trying to throw a ball through a hoop. Maybe the nurse is fed up with all the annoying patients in the hospital. We all have to deal with stuff like this no matter what our job is like. And of course I'm speaking for those who actually like their jobs. If you hate what you do you have a whole different set of issues. I don't know how to address those.

In short I'm making some discoveries about my line of work. Watching from afar I had a certain image in my mind. I'm finding out that things aren't the way I pictured them. But that's okay. I still love it.
On semi-related note we had a major screwup in the newscast tonight. One of our reporters was left live on the air with no clue of what to say or do. It WAS NOT her fault. But of course it looks that way when she's the only thing people at home can see. I felt bad for her. But I am thankful it wasn't me....

And we are LIVE

I went LIVE for the first time in my life today. I've been on TV before. Just not LIVE. What a rush. Yes I was nervous. Yes I was shaking. Yes my voice may have cracked a little bit. But I did surprisingly well for my first time. It went something like this:

Anchor: It's been less than a week since the mayor was arrested for domestic abuse. Now some residents are calling for his resignation.

Me: That's right it was just last wednesday when the mayor was charged with this crime. Court records say he beat his pregnant wife. Well the mayor was missing last night at the city commision meeting.

Sound bite of guy calling for resignation.

Me: Now the city manager says the mayor was planning on being gone for a couple weeks anyway. He also says there is nothing in city law requiring the mayor to step down. We will keep you up to date on any developments that occur in this case.

Exciting huh? Okay maybe not for you. But it was for me. It was quite a relief as well. The first time is over now. I'm sure I'll still be nervous for a while but I don't think it will begin to match this. Oh wait. Maybe it will. My first time anchoring a newscast is only a couple weeks away. That's a whole other ballgame.

Reporting live from my bedroom in Montana, I'm Ron Burgundy. Back to you.

If I could...

....I would live at the Hampton Inn.

Or any other hotel for that matter. I'm lying in my king size bed in your average room at the Bozeman Hampton Inn. I got to town today and immediately checked in to the room that my company is paying for. I have all I need here. Cable TV. Big bed. Free wireless internet access. Access to a heated indoor pool and a hot tub. Free breakfast in the morning. (and none of that continental crap. I get eggs and bacon here). Free newspapers in the morning. Someone to clean my room every day. Unlimited bathroom supplies like shampoo and soap. The list goes on and on. I don't think I've ever realized just how awesome it is to stay in a hotel. I could get used to this.

Unfortunately I can't. I have to start looking for a place to live. Ugh.

Lincoln

Moving on

Wow. I'm really sad right now.

I have lived under the wings of my parents longer than most kids do. Okay, I've traveled to Glacier National Park and New Zealand and ski resorts in two different states. I lived in these places for months at a time. But this was always home. My room was always waiting for me just as I had left it. Mom and Dad were always ready to welcome me back home for a month or two as I prepared for my next adventure.

But this.....

....is different.

I'm really moving out. For good. I'm leaving them and I'm a little distraught. I'm not worried about making it on my own. I'm not afraid of leaving the security they provide. I do, however, love them very much. And I don't necessarily like the idea of coming home every day and not seeing them there. Some parents are hard to live with. Mine aren't. They've fed me. They've clothed me. They've loved me. They've given me everything I've ever needed and often things I've merely wanted. And I love them for it.

I'm not sad because I'm scared to be on my own. I'm sad because I'm going to miss them.

Still this is an exciting time. I'm about to start living my dream of being a broadcast journalist. I'm ready for the challenges and obstacles and highs and lows that lie ahead. I won't be that far away from Mom and Dad. I'll be able to share all of these milestones with them. I know they'll be there for me whenever I need them.

So Mom and Dad:

While I'm not saying goodbye forever, I am saying goodbye. I'm not going to thank you for all that you've done (although I do thank you). I'm not going tell you why you've been good parents (although you've been good parents). I'm just going to say that I will miss you both. I'll miss you because I genuinely love you. I'll miss you because I like being around you.

You'll be fine. I'll be fine. But I just wanted to let you know that the hardest part of this entire transition...is leaving you. You're wonderful parents. I wouldn't hate leaving so much if that wasn't the case.

I love you.

Lincoln

Pain in art

I'm doing a little pre-packing and I've come across some old emails I wrote in late 2001....a bad time for me. There's a lot of poetry contained therein.

And you know what? They were good poems. Which puzzled me because I cannot write poetry. Then I made a realization. So much art (whether it be poetry, drawing, painting, singing, etc.) comes from pain.

Why is it that pain brings out our artistic sides? Think about all the entertainers out there. Their lives are so messed up. But think about it. They need the pain of their shattered lives to stay in the business. Otherwise they'd have no material. Am I wrong about this?

On a completely unrelated note, I spent $1300 on clothes today. Suits and stuff. I have never done that. I feel a little wierd about it. No I can't afford it. Yes I used credit. Yes I'll be mad at myself when the bill comes. But I really needed all of it....okay some of it. :)

Contract

Wow. I just signed my first, real contract. I feel so...so...professional and successful.

Except for the part about how much they're paying me.
We won't talk about that though.
It would make you cry.
And then pity me.

Oh well. Love what you do right?

Now the real work starts

Okay, I didn't go to Dallas. Which, if you read my previous blog and have the power of deductive reasoning, means I got the job in Montana. I've been pretty giddy from the moment I accepted the offer. I don't have much to say....except for one thing.

So many people saw me traveling to Glacier and New Zealand and Colorado and every other place I worked seasonally over the past few years. So many thought I was crazy. I feel a little vindication now. Deep in my heart I know I did it the right way. My way wasn't for everyone. I know that. And there were plenty who went on with there own lives and yet supported mine. I now know the ones who questioned me...were the jealous ones. They didn't have the guts to try something new and exciting and different. I did.

Oh well. Their loss.

The next 48 hours...

....may prove to be interesting.

In my quest to find my first on-air broadcasting job I've somehow set up the following events to occur in the next 48 hours.

First I will end up twiddling my thumbs for a good portion of tomorrow waiting for a news director in Bozeman, Montana to call me back. One of three things will happen. He will call and say I got the job. He will call and say I didn't get the job. He won't call at all.

Meanwhile, I have already purchased a NON-REFUNDABLE plane ticket to Dallas, Texas. That plane leaves on Monday evening at about 7:30. The Bozeman news director has no bearing on this factual information. However...he still plays a vital role in my schedule. I want this job in Montana. I really want it. If he calls to tell me I've landed the position my Texas plans have changed. Since my ticket is non-refundable I will probably still end up flying to Dallas and strolling around the city for the day. Why let a good plane ticket go to waste? But if I don't get the Montana job the whole point of me flying to Texas will come back into focus. I'll arrive in Dallas at approximately 1 a.m. Then I'll rent a car and drive 2 hours north to a town called Wichita Falls. Sometime around 11 a.m. I'll sit down for an interview with a news director there. I want this job too. Just not as much as I want the Montana one. The timing for both these opportunities sucked. I've been forced to work both angles at the same time. Did I want to buy $300 plane ticket even though I may not need it? Of course not. But I couldn't let option B just fall through the cracks while I waited to see how option A turned out.

You still with me?

So assuming I go through with the Texas interview I will drive back to Dallas that same evening and catch a plane back home. I'll have a brief layover in Las Vegas before I land in SLC at 2:30 in the morning...roughly 50 hours from now. Exciting isn't it?

Now let's throw in another wrinkle. Let's say I don't get my Montana job. Let's say I don't get the Texas job. I have another opportunity possibly waiting for me in Bismarck, North Dakota. Not my first choice but I'll take it if I have to. So I guess that's it.

Wish me luck.

The heat of the moment

I was standing in line at Starbucks (inside Barnes & Noble) the other day reading a book. It came from a shelf nearby meant to alleviate the boredom I had to endure while waiting in line because they only had one barista working. It was some little gift book on how to make life simpler. One of it's suggestions: Don't ever write anything down in the heat of the moment.

My opinion: That's stupid.

I'm sure the author didn't want all of us busy little souls to regret something somewhere down the road. She didn't want Mr. Smith to regret the nasty note he sent to Ms. Smith right after he caught her banging the milkman. After all, the words he put to paper were probably pretty hurtful and, had he calmed down before penning his thoughts, something more civil might have appeared. His immediate thoughts would just be too raw.

But isn't that what we want? Isn't that what writing is for? Oh I guess it's not the same for all people. And delving further into the world of logic I'm sure every circumstance is different. Let's say your brother calls you and says he's going to marry Lisa. You think Lisa's a bona fide nutjob. I suppose when you write your little note of congratulation you don't want your initial and instinctive thoughts of Lisa to be put on paper. You support your brother and want him to be happy. So you think for a moment and let the bad thoughts of Lisa slowly drip back into the well of annoyance in your mind where she currently resides.

The result: A perfectly lovely note that comes across as civil because you chose not to write something in the heat of the moment.

Okay, I'm invalidating my own argument. That's not my intent. I was playing devil's advocate for a moment. The words this author doesn't want us to write in the heat of moment usually have something to do with "heated moments." Learning of your brother's pending nuptuals probably doesn't qualify as such. But walking in on Ms. Smith with the milkman certainly does.

Arguments apply too.

As I was waiting in line for my pumpkin spice latte I thought back to some journal entries I had made nearly five years ago. Some were written after heated arguments. I look through them every so often and I see the ramblings of someone who had been severely wronged. Never mind the fact, that with the benefit of hindsight, this victimized soul was a little off-kilter and irrational. I still captured his thoughts. They weren't sanitized. They weren't watered down. They weren't sugar-coated.

They were raw.

Maybe because they were raw...they no longer ring true. But, even if for just a short time, THAT is how I felt. I have a record of my mental state in that instant.

Okay, I get it now. It all depends on what kind of writing you're doing. To me, writing is so often the same as journaling.

Isn't part of keeping a journal recording moments in time?

Sittin', waitin', wishin'

So I'm waiting for someone to call me back.
About a job.
A news anchor/reporter job.
Something I've always wanted.
Well...since I was 5 anyway.
When you are one phone call away from your dream.
It's hard to wait.
I can handle not getting it.
There are other opportunities.
But waiting, I can't do.
Which is ironic.
Because there is NO way around it.
This sucks.