Hello Readers and Happy blah blah blah. 2013, woop-dee-do! Let's do this. Getting older and more cynical so it's hard to look at the change of the year with hope and ambition. There is still a glimmer of hope deep down inside. Like the last ember in the fireplace that has yet to burn out. The year is only two days old but I am fairly certain this ordinary man will not be having any extraordinary things happen to him. My list of things to do this year are: Get a job that I will like, write more, and clean my shower before May. I don't like to clean much and our bathroom is not ventilated well so cleaning fumes build up after awhile and I soon wonder if it's safe to breath in there. But, I'll get around to it.
What I won't get around to doing is catching some reality TV. Some of it okay. I like "Top Chef" but don't call it reality, it's a game show slickly produced. Same with "Survivor". It's a game show. They have elimination games and voting around camp fires. When it first was announced back in 2000 or whatever that this new show called "Survivor" is going to be awesome and it's this thing called "reality TV". Reality TV was created to put TV writers out of work. Anyway, I thought it would be where people would be left in the wild to fend for themselves, to "survive". I watched and it was people in the tropics trying to "survive" by running obstacle courses in the mud or eating the most larvae without vomiting. Put ten people in the high Rocky Mountains with minimal tools and who survives gets the Pontiac Aztec.
Most exposure I get to reality TV is through the promos. Every promo I see for "The Bachelor" makes me sort of homicidal. There has been what, one marriage from this show? What has me scratching my head is that there are shows called "Amish Mafia", "Double Divas", and something called "Xtreme Taxidermy" which is on Animal Planet for some reason. I have not watched an episode of "Amish Mafia" so if I seem as if I don't know what I'm ranting about, I really don't. That said, please allow me to summarize the show from the thirty second promo: Amish youngsters seem to have gone beyond barn-raisings to organized crime against other Amish. One person seems to fear for his life in an interview snippet. His wife or girlfriend or sister or cousin, I don't know her relation to him cause I won't watch to find out, fears he may be dead soon. There were various quick shots of the gangster Amish guys making threats and stroking assault weapons. The promo ended with a slow-mo shot of the four toughs posing in front of the camera, one holding a rifle of some sort. I saw it and I furrowed my brow and thought, "Is that a joke? It has to be. Are there really Mafia in Amish country? This is a fucking show?" I am not familiar with the Amish, but I thought they shunned modern technology. My guess is some of them caught some "Sopranos" reruns on A&E and thought it might be fun. I don't know what you would extort from other Amish folk other than extra preserves or making sure the shoes don't come off the horse or it's curtains for you, Jebidiah. What does an Amish kid have to do to make other Amish guys want to kill him? Most of my knowledge about the Amish comes from the movie "Witness" so forgive me if I seem ignorant.
On Lifetime, you can find "Double Divas". From this promo, it's about bra fitters. Bra fitters that turn the lives of women around for the good by providing them with correct fitting bras. Interesting, I thought. But, I didn't see any girls under age forty-five or any ladies who haven't had fried foods getting fitted so I probably will not check this out.
Still scratching my head why Animal Planet airs a show called "Xtreme Taxidermy". I thought it was a channel to see the beauty of the animal world, to learn about beasts you may not have ever seen, to see shows about cute puppies and kitties. Now see them frozen after death and meet those who mount them on logs. This promo wasn't even ten seconds long and I won't venture further. But just how in the hell does taxidermy get extreme? What would be cool is to stuff some dogs to resemble them playing poker. A life size display of a Bulldog, a Border Collie, a St. Bernard, and a Golden Lab flash-frozen in time playing Five Card Draw. That would be freakin' awesome. And maybe a Rottweiler and a Boston Terrier dressed as old Irish cops holding batons busting up the card game. An ace card in the foot of the Border Collie. You got to put a cigar in the Bulldog's mouth. Got to.
For me, football is the only reality TV. Speaking of football, thank God for Peyton Manning. Go Broncos!! Here's to a new year that hopefully will be a good one for you.
P.S.- I have a great idea for a reality show. Xtreme Paint Drying. I'll sit back now and wait for producers to call me.
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
The End Is Here....
Not the end of the world. Just my career in TV news. Never thought I would get laid off, they call it "not transitioning to the new format". Whatever. My last day at work is today, Halloween. Fitting? Maybe. It's definitely not a horror story for me. I've often thought I work at the Mad Hatter's Tea Party. On the 31st, Alice is leaving Wonderland.
What has been enjoyable in this line of work is I've gotten to do things that I never would have in another line of work. The surprise of not knowing what I will do until I step into the newsroom was something I liked. Sometimes seeing what I would be doing for the day made me frown, usually it's been that I would have to spend the day in a courtroom. Cue Homer Simpson: "Boring". Like every job, it has moments that are exciting and moments where the clock is not moving fast enough. I've worked with a variety of people and it's taught me how do handle the difficult as well as the not so difficult ones. I've made friends and had some good times outside of work. More so in Abilene and Wichita. Dallas is so big and people live spread out it's not always easy to meet up after work. But now the Tea Party is running out of tea and I reflect on the things I've experienced.
It all began in Abilene. Not a whole lot going in Abilene, TX. Abilenians shouldn't get a burr in their butt because I said that, they live there, they know it's a bit slow there. 2002 did have some exciting stories happen. A large flood caused home damage and got the network news reporter in town. It was my first big weather event. The first time seeing how weather can effect hundreds of people is something that stuck with me. The second event was during what seemed like "The Summer of the Child Abduction" and one happened in the Walmart parking lot. A woman nabbed a baby out of the grocery cart as mom was putting groceries away. Happened fast. Take notice new moms out there. This one had a happy ending. The baby was found alive and well with the abductor a few counties north of Abilene. She was passing the baby off as her own, but her relatives weren't buying her story. They called authorities and the child was brought back to Abilene. The day before the baby was returned it was just photographers and reporters from the three stations in town. I drove to the police station the next morning to see nine satellite trucks parked all over the police station parking lot. My first media circus.
Most of that day was spent outside the doors to the police station waiting for the police who had custody of the baby. A lot of waiting. Two long lines of photographers, video and still, paralleled the sidewalk to the entrance. It was agreed upon to not get in each others way so we could get our shot of the police carrying the baby inside. That agreement seemed to have been forgotten when the baby did arrive as most of my video was photogs in the foreground and the police holding the baby walking by.
Not much else happened in Abilene. Oh, I did meet my wife there.
My next stop and where I had the most enjoyment was in Wichita, KS. Never thought I'd live in Kansas but I spent just over four years there. It was there that I improved in my work and I had to. News there was a faster pace than in Abilene. I had to learn how to edit on Avid, a nonlinear editing system on a computer. I resisted for a while, but learned. One of the first things I remember shooting was video of a MiG-17 that Red Bull had painted up in their colors of red, blue, and silver. It was in town for an air show and aircraft are one of my favorite things to get video of. But the really cool thing about the shoot was that I was going to get air to air footage shooting from Bob Hope's airplane. Red Bull had bought it after he passed away and used it as a support plane. It was a Lockheed Jetstar and they haven't made those in a long time. The interior was a typical of a private aircraft, wood paneling, large leather seats, and had Bob Hope's golf handicap as its ID number:18. Quite an experience. But, one story has everything else beat. A serial killer who terrorized Wichita came back into the spotlight.
He went by BTK. Bind, Torture, Kill. His name was Dennis Rader. He was a code enforcement officer in Park City, Kansas. A glorified dog catcher to some. If I recall, he made friends in town by bothering people on the height of the grass on their front lawns. In 2004, the newspaper ran a story on the thirtieth anniversary of BTK's first murder, he killed a family of four in their home. The oldest son returned home to find his father, mother, brother, and sister murdered. He killed many others between 1974 and 1991. Then he disappeared. No one heard from him. As it happened, my station received mailings from BTK at the height of his grip on Wichita. The Chief of Police at the time came onto the news talking to him, pleading for him to turn himself in.
I came into work one morning in a reporter had said to me, "We got a letter". I figured it was from an angry viewer but she said it was BTK himself who sent the letter. He was back and he wanted the spotlight again. He sent more letters from him and that sent the station into Strategic Air Command-type readiness. Photographers were in their vehicles, ready to head out to where ever BTK had said he had left a "gift". The "gift" was usually some sort of clue that we had to decode. He liked making word search puzzles and other types of brain teasers. Some of the "gifts" were more sinister.
My wife was the morning show producer at this time and received a phone call late at night from a man who found a box at a park propped up against a tree. He took the box home, opened it, and found a Barbie doll that was bound and gagged. And a drivers license. My wife pondered if this was legit and made a call to the news director, who went ape-poop whenever we got a letter. I shot video of him carrying a letter into his office wearing rubber gloves. Can't contaminate evidence. Anyway, the on-call photographer was sent to the house to shoot video before police arrived. He shot the creepy doll and the driver license which belonged to a woman murdered in 1986 and originally was not attributed to BTK. There was a memorable morning when the Chief of Police and lead detective on the case came by the chat with the news director. The doors were closed and we could not hear what was going on in there, but the detective was not very pleased with the media.
BTK's downfall came by a mistake by him. He sent a mailing to the Fox station. He had written it on a computer and it was being analyzed to find the computers location. BTK had written the words "en case" instead of using "in case". There was a software called Encase and it was used to find the computer's location. Where, do you ask? A church. A church! BTK was president of the congregation at his church. Police and FBI conducted their hunt and nabbed Dennis Rader on his way home for lunch. Was he brilliant? No. Not having a good grasp at spelling lead to him being arrested and now sitting in a prison for life. The media rolled into town, thirteen satellite trucks were parked outside the courthouse. It surpassed the number of sat trucks for President Bush's visit to Manhattan, KS by one truck.
In 2007, our station began a 4 pm newscast and my wife was tabbed to produce. A few months into it she told me of a meeting with the news director, another one, not the one during BTK. Anyhoo, she mentioned that the idea of a movie segment came up and my name was thrown out to do it. I had always thought of just staying behind the camera and I was not a reporter. I thought about it and decided it could be fun. Matt at the Movies was born. I planned all week on how to let people know what would be showing on Fridays. The format was usually movie clips and movie goer reactions bookended by me attempting to do something funny. I don't like the sound of my voice or seeing myself on TV, but it was a good learning experience. I did ten or so of them before leaving Wichita for my news career's graveyard of Dallas, TX.
My wife had gotten a job at the ABC affiliate in Dallas, so off we went. It was actually harder to leave Wichita than I thought it would. I mostly missed the people there and I still do. Wichita wasn't a bad town when you got used to it. In Big D I needed a job. The sports director in Wichita was friends with a sports reporter in Dallas, who told him of a photographer opening. I met with the chief photographer and news director and was hired. If Wichita news was fast, Dallas was the Autobahn. It took awhile to find my way around the Metroplex and what highway lead to what town. I had experienced tornadoes in Kansas, here I experienced two hurricanes in two weeks.
In 2008, Hurricane Gustav looked like it would hit New Orleans. I was chosen to go with a reporter to the Crescent City for storm coverage. We drove from Dallas to New Orleans the day before the hurricane was to make landfall. Hurricane Katrina still fresh in the minds of the locals, most people left town. The streets were empty of cars and people except for the National Guard and police. We checked into the Crown Plaza on Bourbon and Canal streets where the media was staying. It was then off to our sister station to meet with the news director there to get our marching orders. We were to shoot a package for the network. With the city to ourselves, we went by local hospitals and the tourist areas to see how prepared they were for the storm. With the package shot and edited, it was fed by satellite to the other stations to air that night followed by live shots of what Bourbon street looks like with no people there. We went to sleep and the next day Gustav made landfall. New Orleans didn't get the full brunt of it, but it got plenty of wind and rain. I remember the wind blowing through downtown New Orleans making a howling sound. Quite eerie. My reporter, Jim, had hurricane experience and he mostly told me to watch for flying debris. Kinda hard to shoot your reporter in the driving wind while watching out for your skull. But, we did it. A side note, it was suggested to protect the wireless microphone transmitter with the use of a condom to keep water out. Insert your own joke here. Anyway, I had put the condom over the microphone instead, and all the people we talked to who stayed in town spoke onto a condom covered mic. Always practice safe interviewing.
Because it still drives me to profane language, I will leave out the part of the trip where our satellite truck was moved from Bourbon street without our knowing. It was moved to some levee where the water was high. It was like a freaking monsoon. All wind and forty-five degree rain. And at night. We tried to feed out of the truck but the operator couldn't get a signal established due the rain. We hauled ass to the station to feed the package out to the network. Didn't happen for the east and central time zones. Was I mad, yes. Miraculously, the sat truck, my reporter, and myself made it back to Bourbon street to do our live shots with about five to ten minutes until news time. Every time I saw the bonehead who moved the truck without telling us, I grit my teeth. But, I'll leave that part out.
Two weeks later, Hurricane Ike was bound for Houston. Another reporter and I, it seems I was a hurricane veteran, made the five hour drive south. We checked into our motel and rested for the next day. Our assignment was to go to the coastal town of Freeport for hurricane preps. Ike wasn't due to make landfall for several hours, but the winds and high waves proceeding it were foreboding. That night, we did our live shots at a high school where the reporter stands in the wind to show people at home that, yes, the winds were high. I was out of the elements with the camera and lights strapped to a railing to ensure that they didn't blow away. I tried to sleep that night inside the sat truck but only got a few hours worth. The winds were shaking the large truck too much to get any rest. Galveston took a direct hit and Ike tore up that town and others pretty good. We spent two more days there to cover the damaged areas. Seeing hurricane damage on TV is far different from seeing it firsthand.
Sorry, this is longer than I thought, my apologies. This is just a tiny fraction of what I've been through.
Today, on Halloween, it is over. I turned in my laptop and work badge. I have yet to line up another job. The five years I worked in Dallas are a bit of a blur. I said "see ya" to those who remained in the newsroom and lit a small cigar as I drove off. Those of my coworkers left with some sadness, me, it was probably time for me to go do something else. I guess being let go is an opportunity to do something that I find more fulfilling. What that is, I don't know. I have time to think about what the near future holds in store. There is trepidation mixed with hope as I stare into the dark cloud of the future. Wow, that sounded melodramatic.
P.S.- For those interested, Matt at the Movies can be found on youtube. Search Matt at the Movies.
What has been enjoyable in this line of work is I've gotten to do things that I never would have in another line of work. The surprise of not knowing what I will do until I step into the newsroom was something I liked. Sometimes seeing what I would be doing for the day made me frown, usually it's been that I would have to spend the day in a courtroom. Cue Homer Simpson: "Boring". Like every job, it has moments that are exciting and moments where the clock is not moving fast enough. I've worked with a variety of people and it's taught me how do handle the difficult as well as the not so difficult ones. I've made friends and had some good times outside of work. More so in Abilene and Wichita. Dallas is so big and people live spread out it's not always easy to meet up after work. But now the Tea Party is running out of tea and I reflect on the things I've experienced.
It all began in Abilene. Not a whole lot going in Abilene, TX. Abilenians shouldn't get a burr in their butt because I said that, they live there, they know it's a bit slow there. 2002 did have some exciting stories happen. A large flood caused home damage and got the network news reporter in town. It was my first big weather event. The first time seeing how weather can effect hundreds of people is something that stuck with me. The second event was during what seemed like "The Summer of the Child Abduction" and one happened in the Walmart parking lot. A woman nabbed a baby out of the grocery cart as mom was putting groceries away. Happened fast. Take notice new moms out there. This one had a happy ending. The baby was found alive and well with the abductor a few counties north of Abilene. She was passing the baby off as her own, but her relatives weren't buying her story. They called authorities and the child was brought back to Abilene. The day before the baby was returned it was just photographers and reporters from the three stations in town. I drove to the police station the next morning to see nine satellite trucks parked all over the police station parking lot. My first media circus.
Most of that day was spent outside the doors to the police station waiting for the police who had custody of the baby. A lot of waiting. Two long lines of photographers, video and still, paralleled the sidewalk to the entrance. It was agreed upon to not get in each others way so we could get our shot of the police carrying the baby inside. That agreement seemed to have been forgotten when the baby did arrive as most of my video was photogs in the foreground and the police holding the baby walking by.
Not much else happened in Abilene. Oh, I did meet my wife there.
My next stop and where I had the most enjoyment was in Wichita, KS. Never thought I'd live in Kansas but I spent just over four years there. It was there that I improved in my work and I had to. News there was a faster pace than in Abilene. I had to learn how to edit on Avid, a nonlinear editing system on a computer. I resisted for a while, but learned. One of the first things I remember shooting was video of a MiG-17 that Red Bull had painted up in their colors of red, blue, and silver. It was in town for an air show and aircraft are one of my favorite things to get video of. But the really cool thing about the shoot was that I was going to get air to air footage shooting from Bob Hope's airplane. Red Bull had bought it after he passed away and used it as a support plane. It was a Lockheed Jetstar and they haven't made those in a long time. The interior was a typical of a private aircraft, wood paneling, large leather seats, and had Bob Hope's golf handicap as its ID number:18. Quite an experience. But, one story has everything else beat. A serial killer who terrorized Wichita came back into the spotlight.
He went by BTK. Bind, Torture, Kill. His name was Dennis Rader. He was a code enforcement officer in Park City, Kansas. A glorified dog catcher to some. If I recall, he made friends in town by bothering people on the height of the grass on their front lawns. In 2004, the newspaper ran a story on the thirtieth anniversary of BTK's first murder, he killed a family of four in their home. The oldest son returned home to find his father, mother, brother, and sister murdered. He killed many others between 1974 and 1991. Then he disappeared. No one heard from him. As it happened, my station received mailings from BTK at the height of his grip on Wichita. The Chief of Police at the time came onto the news talking to him, pleading for him to turn himself in.
I came into work one morning in a reporter had said to me, "We got a letter". I figured it was from an angry viewer but she said it was BTK himself who sent the letter. He was back and he wanted the spotlight again. He sent more letters from him and that sent the station into Strategic Air Command-type readiness. Photographers were in their vehicles, ready to head out to where ever BTK had said he had left a "gift". The "gift" was usually some sort of clue that we had to decode. He liked making word search puzzles and other types of brain teasers. Some of the "gifts" were more sinister.
My wife was the morning show producer at this time and received a phone call late at night from a man who found a box at a park propped up against a tree. He took the box home, opened it, and found a Barbie doll that was bound and gagged. And a drivers license. My wife pondered if this was legit and made a call to the news director, who went ape-poop whenever we got a letter. I shot video of him carrying a letter into his office wearing rubber gloves. Can't contaminate evidence. Anyway, the on-call photographer was sent to the house to shoot video before police arrived. He shot the creepy doll and the driver license which belonged to a woman murdered in 1986 and originally was not attributed to BTK. There was a memorable morning when the Chief of Police and lead detective on the case came by the chat with the news director. The doors were closed and we could not hear what was going on in there, but the detective was not very pleased with the media.
BTK's downfall came by a mistake by him. He sent a mailing to the Fox station. He had written it on a computer and it was being analyzed to find the computers location. BTK had written the words "en case" instead of using "in case". There was a software called Encase and it was used to find the computer's location. Where, do you ask? A church. A church! BTK was president of the congregation at his church. Police and FBI conducted their hunt and nabbed Dennis Rader on his way home for lunch. Was he brilliant? No. Not having a good grasp at spelling lead to him being arrested and now sitting in a prison for life. The media rolled into town, thirteen satellite trucks were parked outside the courthouse. It surpassed the number of sat trucks for President Bush's visit to Manhattan, KS by one truck.
In 2007, our station began a 4 pm newscast and my wife was tabbed to produce. A few months into it she told me of a meeting with the news director, another one, not the one during BTK. Anyhoo, she mentioned that the idea of a movie segment came up and my name was thrown out to do it. I had always thought of just staying behind the camera and I was not a reporter. I thought about it and decided it could be fun. Matt at the Movies was born. I planned all week on how to let people know what would be showing on Fridays. The format was usually movie clips and movie goer reactions bookended by me attempting to do something funny. I don't like the sound of my voice or seeing myself on TV, but it was a good learning experience. I did ten or so of them before leaving Wichita for my news career's graveyard of Dallas, TX.
My wife had gotten a job at the ABC affiliate in Dallas, so off we went. It was actually harder to leave Wichita than I thought it would. I mostly missed the people there and I still do. Wichita wasn't a bad town when you got used to it. In Big D I needed a job. The sports director in Wichita was friends with a sports reporter in Dallas, who told him of a photographer opening. I met with the chief photographer and news director and was hired. If Wichita news was fast, Dallas was the Autobahn. It took awhile to find my way around the Metroplex and what highway lead to what town. I had experienced tornadoes in Kansas, here I experienced two hurricanes in two weeks.
In 2008, Hurricane Gustav looked like it would hit New Orleans. I was chosen to go with a reporter to the Crescent City for storm coverage. We drove from Dallas to New Orleans the day before the hurricane was to make landfall. Hurricane Katrina still fresh in the minds of the locals, most people left town. The streets were empty of cars and people except for the National Guard and police. We checked into the Crown Plaza on Bourbon and Canal streets where the media was staying. It was then off to our sister station to meet with the news director there to get our marching orders. We were to shoot a package for the network. With the city to ourselves, we went by local hospitals and the tourist areas to see how prepared they were for the storm. With the package shot and edited, it was fed by satellite to the other stations to air that night followed by live shots of what Bourbon street looks like with no people there. We went to sleep and the next day Gustav made landfall. New Orleans didn't get the full brunt of it, but it got plenty of wind and rain. I remember the wind blowing through downtown New Orleans making a howling sound. Quite eerie. My reporter, Jim, had hurricane experience and he mostly told me to watch for flying debris. Kinda hard to shoot your reporter in the driving wind while watching out for your skull. But, we did it. A side note, it was suggested to protect the wireless microphone transmitter with the use of a condom to keep water out. Insert your own joke here. Anyway, I had put the condom over the microphone instead, and all the people we talked to who stayed in town spoke onto a condom covered mic. Always practice safe interviewing.
Because it still drives me to profane language, I will leave out the part of the trip where our satellite truck was moved from Bourbon street without our knowing. It was moved to some levee where the water was high. It was like a freaking monsoon. All wind and forty-five degree rain. And at night. We tried to feed out of the truck but the operator couldn't get a signal established due the rain. We hauled ass to the station to feed the package out to the network. Didn't happen for the east and central time zones. Was I mad, yes. Miraculously, the sat truck, my reporter, and myself made it back to Bourbon street to do our live shots with about five to ten minutes until news time. Every time I saw the bonehead who moved the truck without telling us, I grit my teeth. But, I'll leave that part out.
Two weeks later, Hurricane Ike was bound for Houston. Another reporter and I, it seems I was a hurricane veteran, made the five hour drive south. We checked into our motel and rested for the next day. Our assignment was to go to the coastal town of Freeport for hurricane preps. Ike wasn't due to make landfall for several hours, but the winds and high waves proceeding it were foreboding. That night, we did our live shots at a high school where the reporter stands in the wind to show people at home that, yes, the winds were high. I was out of the elements with the camera and lights strapped to a railing to ensure that they didn't blow away. I tried to sleep that night inside the sat truck but only got a few hours worth. The winds were shaking the large truck too much to get any rest. Galveston took a direct hit and Ike tore up that town and others pretty good. We spent two more days there to cover the damaged areas. Seeing hurricane damage on TV is far different from seeing it firsthand.
Sorry, this is longer than I thought, my apologies. This is just a tiny fraction of what I've been through.
Today, on Halloween, it is over. I turned in my laptop and work badge. I have yet to line up another job. The five years I worked in Dallas are a bit of a blur. I said "see ya" to those who remained in the newsroom and lit a small cigar as I drove off. Those of my coworkers left with some sadness, me, it was probably time for me to go do something else. I guess being let go is an opportunity to do something that I find more fulfilling. What that is, I don't know. I have time to think about what the near future holds in store. There is trepidation mixed with hope as I stare into the dark cloud of the future. Wow, that sounded melodramatic.
P.S.- For those interested, Matt at the Movies can be found on youtube. Search Matt at the Movies.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Episode 3
Why did I call this Episode 3? Not sure, sounded good at the time of writing this. Cause I'm a Star Wars fan, I guess. Revenge of the Sith was also the last theatrical film released. I guess this blog will be about my Star Wars fandom. I know, not very exciting or riveting to read. On a side note, I tried to make this blog a weekly thing at first, but events recently have my mind occupied on other things, such making sure I make my mortgage payments. It has to do with an agreement concerning my severance package. Anyway, Star Wars.
I was three years old if I recall correctly. My parents, my sister, and myself were living in Ogden, Utah. My brother had yet yet to arrive yet. My memories of Ogden are good. I could see mountains from the backyard of the house, I rode my bike up and down the street, and I played in the snow in the winter. Warnings to be aware of pedophiles and stranger danger was not the norm. It was a happy time for me. But, I was a little kid without a care in the world, so of course I was happy. I can remember walking down to the corner 7-11 for a Slurpee. I remember my dad building a swing set for me and my sister and man, what a day that was. I would try to get as high as I could swing and then jump off the seat and see if I could land on my feet. I thought I was a daredevil. Not sure if my mom saw me do this, she may have yelled at me to stop or I'll get hurt. And it was in Ogden that I have my first memory of movies.
It was spring time. The sky was blue, the grass was green, and dad was washing the Chevy Nova in the driveway. I was playing in the front yard and dad had said, "Do you want to see Darth Vader tonight?" I didn't know who that was. Darth sounded like a weird name. It sounded to me like Dorothy, which is why Dorothy from Wizard of Oz popped in my head. I didn't think much of it and continued playing. Later that night, I found out who Darth Vader was.
Let me set the scene for any younger folks reading this. People used to go to what were called Drive-In Theatres. What they were was a movie screen set up outside and you drove your car to a huge lot, parked, and put a speaker onto the door of your car to hear the movie. There was no Dolby surround sound, stadium seating, and you had to leave the car for concessions which were in a separate building. Apparently, they were a popular place for teens to clumsily fondle each other.
My parents would take my sister and me to the drive-in dressed in our pajamas. Without fail, we would fall asleep somewhere in the second act. I remember seeing four movies at the drive-in. The Apple Dumpling Gang, 101 Dalmatians, Grease (not my choice), and of course, Star Wars. Like most Star Wars fans around my age, I was hooked from the very beginning. The movie had action right off the top. Mostly, I recall snippets of the opening battle in the Blockade Runner and the Stormtroopers busting their way into the corridor and opening fire. Then Darth Vader entered the ship and, holy cow, he was awesome. I could tell as a three years old, he was someone who others answered to. Authority and black armor. I don't remember his artificial breathing and it's probably because the little drive-in theatre speaker was known for audio supremacy. After seeing R2-D2 and C-3PO being caught by Jawas and the cantina scene, I fell asleep.
Star Wars was on my brain ever since. My dad got my sister and I an action figure, me C-3PO and her R2-D2. For Christmas I got an X-Wing Fighter. Everything Star Wars related on TV my mom made sure I was watching it. Especially the infamous Holiday Special in 1978. To my knowledge, it has never been released for purchase to the public. Bootleg copies are out but Lucasfilm has done its best to make sure this show never gets out. Why? They say it's bad. Embarrassingly bad. Bea Arthur and Art Carney were in it and I don't think they ever spoke about it. The only seemingly good quality was the animated segment, mostly because it was the first appearance of Boba Fett. That's what I remember the most.
Among my friends and schoolmates growing up, Star Wars was what we talked about. It was almost like it was normal that they had Star Wars figures in their room. The first kid to get a VCR no doubt had kids over to watch Star Wars on video. A vast toy collection was a bit of a status symbol. If you had the Millenium Falcon or an AT-AT, you had the crown jewels of Star Wars vehicles. All good times, but alas, a boy does grow up.
I haven't really grown up that much. My hair is gray in parts and falling out in others. Star Wars has been with me since I was three. I've lost count at how many times I've seen the movies. I've got the soundtracks, books, and posters. I am a huge fan despite the fact that I haven't dressed up in character to see the movies. My son will be born in about two weeks. I have thought of Star Wars as something I can introduce him to when he becomes a toddler. He already has a Darth Vader radio waiting for him to use. I just hope it doesn't freak him out. I looked at some Star Wars Fatheads and thought that Darth Maul with his red and black head and horns glaring down on him from the wall might be a bit much. Passing on something I have enjoyed for years is something I look forward to.
Of course, if he becomes a Trekkie, I will disown him.
P.S.- Disowning a child over Star Trek is an exaggeration. I would not do that. You know that's an attempt at humor, right? I just can hear my sister saying, "You would do that?" The internet is full of stories of people doing bad things for horrible reasons. I like to think I'm a bit more balanced and normal, though a life size functioning AT-AT is something I still want.
P.P.S.- Hell, yeah! That would be awesome.
I was three years old if I recall correctly. My parents, my sister, and myself were living in Ogden, Utah. My brother had yet yet to arrive yet. My memories of Ogden are good. I could see mountains from the backyard of the house, I rode my bike up and down the street, and I played in the snow in the winter. Warnings to be aware of pedophiles and stranger danger was not the norm. It was a happy time for me. But, I was a little kid without a care in the world, so of course I was happy. I can remember walking down to the corner 7-11 for a Slurpee. I remember my dad building a swing set for me and my sister and man, what a day that was. I would try to get as high as I could swing and then jump off the seat and see if I could land on my feet. I thought I was a daredevil. Not sure if my mom saw me do this, she may have yelled at me to stop or I'll get hurt. And it was in Ogden that I have my first memory of movies.
It was spring time. The sky was blue, the grass was green, and dad was washing the Chevy Nova in the driveway. I was playing in the front yard and dad had said, "Do you want to see Darth Vader tonight?" I didn't know who that was. Darth sounded like a weird name. It sounded to me like Dorothy, which is why Dorothy from Wizard of Oz popped in my head. I didn't think much of it and continued playing. Later that night, I found out who Darth Vader was.
Let me set the scene for any younger folks reading this. People used to go to what were called Drive-In Theatres. What they were was a movie screen set up outside and you drove your car to a huge lot, parked, and put a speaker onto the door of your car to hear the movie. There was no Dolby surround sound, stadium seating, and you had to leave the car for concessions which were in a separate building. Apparently, they were a popular place for teens to clumsily fondle each other.
My parents would take my sister and me to the drive-in dressed in our pajamas. Without fail, we would fall asleep somewhere in the second act. I remember seeing four movies at the drive-in. The Apple Dumpling Gang, 101 Dalmatians, Grease (not my choice), and of course, Star Wars. Like most Star Wars fans around my age, I was hooked from the very beginning. The movie had action right off the top. Mostly, I recall snippets of the opening battle in the Blockade Runner and the Stormtroopers busting their way into the corridor and opening fire. Then Darth Vader entered the ship and, holy cow, he was awesome. I could tell as a three years old, he was someone who others answered to. Authority and black armor. I don't remember his artificial breathing and it's probably because the little drive-in theatre speaker was known for audio supremacy. After seeing R2-D2 and C-3PO being caught by Jawas and the cantina scene, I fell asleep.
Star Wars was on my brain ever since. My dad got my sister and I an action figure, me C-3PO and her R2-D2. For Christmas I got an X-Wing Fighter. Everything Star Wars related on TV my mom made sure I was watching it. Especially the infamous Holiday Special in 1978. To my knowledge, it has never been released for purchase to the public. Bootleg copies are out but Lucasfilm has done its best to make sure this show never gets out. Why? They say it's bad. Embarrassingly bad. Bea Arthur and Art Carney were in it and I don't think they ever spoke about it. The only seemingly good quality was the animated segment, mostly because it was the first appearance of Boba Fett. That's what I remember the most.
Among my friends and schoolmates growing up, Star Wars was what we talked about. It was almost like it was normal that they had Star Wars figures in their room. The first kid to get a VCR no doubt had kids over to watch Star Wars on video. A vast toy collection was a bit of a status symbol. If you had the Millenium Falcon or an AT-AT, you had the crown jewels of Star Wars vehicles. All good times, but alas, a boy does grow up.
I haven't really grown up that much. My hair is gray in parts and falling out in others. Star Wars has been with me since I was three. I've lost count at how many times I've seen the movies. I've got the soundtracks, books, and posters. I am a huge fan despite the fact that I haven't dressed up in character to see the movies. My son will be born in about two weeks. I have thought of Star Wars as something I can introduce him to when he becomes a toddler. He already has a Darth Vader radio waiting for him to use. I just hope it doesn't freak him out. I looked at some Star Wars Fatheads and thought that Darth Maul with his red and black head and horns glaring down on him from the wall might be a bit much. Passing on something I have enjoyed for years is something I look forward to.
Of course, if he becomes a Trekkie, I will disown him.
P.S.- Disowning a child over Star Trek is an exaggeration. I would not do that. You know that's an attempt at humor, right? I just can hear my sister saying, "You would do that?" The internet is full of stories of people doing bad things for horrible reasons. I like to think I'm a bit more balanced and normal, though a life size functioning AT-AT is something I still want.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Two Parental Concerns
I have been a parent for over two and a half years. Our daughter is wonderful, she makes me laugh and she also tests what little patience I have. When she was born, I experienced what every new parent experiences. The awe of witnessing your child entering the world and taking its first breath. And if you're a dad, trying not to stare at the afterbirth. I don't have the stomach for seeing what is inside the body outside of it. I know that stuff falls out, it's natural, I just cringe a bit. And I tried not to see the doctor sewing up my wife after her episiotomy. Holding my daughter was plenty of distraction. A whole new experience was before me as were the questions I asked myself. "Am I ready for this? What do her cries mean? How often do I feed her?"
And another question, "What if she can see ghosts?"
Being closer to age forty than thirty, I am somewhat surprised I still have a fairly active imagination. Yes, the thought passed in my brain about spirits being drawn to my baby. Was there any reason to think that this was reality. No, of course not, I came to the conclusion. There was no supernatural or paranormal activity of any sort in the house the two years before our daughter arrived. I never walked into a bedroom to find our dog staring intently in a corner, growling lowly at nothing. No weird knocks or disembodied voices. Lights in other room did not come back on after I turned them off.
The logic of my mind was broken by the thought of "Aren't ghosts attracted to children?" They hide in closets and attics, right? Only to appear when mommy and daddy are in another room. Nothing had happened when we brought her home. Any fears of ghostly activity were put to the grave. Until my wife mentioned a few things.
She mentioned three things in fact. The first, voices in the baby monitor. Not just from our daughter, but someone she said was having a chat with her. Hmm, I said. Interesting. A bit spooky. The sound from a baby monitor sounds like white noise mixed with a little static. But very not very loud. If any ghost voices were to be heard, they would have to talk loudly. While the monitor was on I listened. No, nothing ghostly. That was written off.
Second, and this is what kind of gave me a chill, my wife said, from the corner of her eye, she saw a shadow run quickly behind her and into the kitchen. It was late at night and she was in the living room feeding the baby. When she told what she saw. I paused in my tracks and said something like, "That's awesome" and went into the kitchen. No shadow there. Now the third incident.
Our daughter woke up hungry about three a.m. and the routine was for my wife to tend to her as I prepared a milk bottle. The warmed milk would be brought to the baby's room where my wife sat on a rocking chair holding the baby who drank it quickly. I left mother and daughter to lie down for a minute. Upon returning my wife told me that she thought she saw a shadow in the doorway. Not again, I thought. Despite suffering from not much sleep, I quickly debunked her sighting. Across from that room in the hallway is a laundry hamper and linen closet. The doors are not painted white like the walls, but are darkly stained wood. Someone who would be very sleepy would glance up and see what they think is a shadow person watching from the doorway.
I chalked it all up to sleep deprivation. An unrested mind can hallucinate. Casper never paid us a visit and that concern vanished. Besides, I have other things to be scared of: Dallas traffic at rush hour and career politicians.
The other concern I have now, like ghosts, is also heard and unseen. Flatulence. She finds farts downright hilarious. And when are they not? Perhaps in church, court, and maybe during surgery. Nothing makes her laugh quite like ripping a few. The issue is that she does it and proclaims, "Toot!". And in public. The grocery store as well as the waiting room at the pediatrician. It's all very unlady-like and cute at the same time. But, where did she learned this habit?
Obviously, it is learned and perpetuated from the mother. I think that as a father I have a doody, I mean duty, to raise my daughter to be a respectable and well-mannered lady that will treat flatulence as a bodily function, not something to laugh at. Even if the dog does it as he sleeps and inadvertently wakes himself up by doing it. Is that funny? Well yes, because he looks so puzzled at why he was suddenly awake. That look of "What was that?" is awesome.
I can hope that as I change her next diaper and she lets one loose, she will outgrow the giggles. If she is a lost cause, I do have a son that will be born soon and boys never laugh at farts.
P.S.- The idea for the preceeding was probably funnier as an idea. There's always next week.
And another question, "What if she can see ghosts?"
Being closer to age forty than thirty, I am somewhat surprised I still have a fairly active imagination. Yes, the thought passed in my brain about spirits being drawn to my baby. Was there any reason to think that this was reality. No, of course not, I came to the conclusion. There was no supernatural or paranormal activity of any sort in the house the two years before our daughter arrived. I never walked into a bedroom to find our dog staring intently in a corner, growling lowly at nothing. No weird knocks or disembodied voices. Lights in other room did not come back on after I turned them off.
The logic of my mind was broken by the thought of "Aren't ghosts attracted to children?" They hide in closets and attics, right? Only to appear when mommy and daddy are in another room. Nothing had happened when we brought her home. Any fears of ghostly activity were put to the grave. Until my wife mentioned a few things.
She mentioned three things in fact. The first, voices in the baby monitor. Not just from our daughter, but someone she said was having a chat with her. Hmm, I said. Interesting. A bit spooky. The sound from a baby monitor sounds like white noise mixed with a little static. But very not very loud. If any ghost voices were to be heard, they would have to talk loudly. While the monitor was on I listened. No, nothing ghostly. That was written off.
Second, and this is what kind of gave me a chill, my wife said, from the corner of her eye, she saw a shadow run quickly behind her and into the kitchen. It was late at night and she was in the living room feeding the baby. When she told what she saw. I paused in my tracks and said something like, "That's awesome" and went into the kitchen. No shadow there. Now the third incident.
Our daughter woke up hungry about three a.m. and the routine was for my wife to tend to her as I prepared a milk bottle. The warmed milk would be brought to the baby's room where my wife sat on a rocking chair holding the baby who drank it quickly. I left mother and daughter to lie down for a minute. Upon returning my wife told me that she thought she saw a shadow in the doorway. Not again, I thought. Despite suffering from not much sleep, I quickly debunked her sighting. Across from that room in the hallway is a laundry hamper and linen closet. The doors are not painted white like the walls, but are darkly stained wood. Someone who would be very sleepy would glance up and see what they think is a shadow person watching from the doorway.
I chalked it all up to sleep deprivation. An unrested mind can hallucinate. Casper never paid us a visit and that concern vanished. Besides, I have other things to be scared of: Dallas traffic at rush hour and career politicians.
The other concern I have now, like ghosts, is also heard and unseen. Flatulence. She finds farts downright hilarious. And when are they not? Perhaps in church, court, and maybe during surgery. Nothing makes her laugh quite like ripping a few. The issue is that she does it and proclaims, "Toot!". And in public. The grocery store as well as the waiting room at the pediatrician. It's all very unlady-like and cute at the same time. But, where did she learned this habit?
Obviously, it is learned and perpetuated from the mother. I think that as a father I have a doody, I mean duty, to raise my daughter to be a respectable and well-mannered lady that will treat flatulence as a bodily function, not something to laugh at. Even if the dog does it as he sleeps and inadvertently wakes himself up by doing it. Is that funny? Well yes, because he looks so puzzled at why he was suddenly awake. That look of "What was that?" is awesome.
I can hope that as I change her next diaper and she lets one loose, she will outgrow the giggles. If she is a lost cause, I do have a son that will be born soon and boys never laugh at farts.
P.S.- The idea for the preceeding was probably funnier as an idea. There's always next week.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
A Beginning
Thought about doing this for awhile. Or is it a while? I think it's awhile. Anyway, I decided to go ahead and try this. If you choose to read this, let me lay down a couple of rules. The subjects will be completely random and the language may get coarse at times. It depends how cross I am when I write. Apologies to the squeamish.
A brief bio: I am 38 years old. I am a news photographer by occupation. I am married with one child, another on the way. I like movies, sports, and writing. Work often interferes with the last one.
With that out of the way, here we go.
I have been resistant to social media for a long time. Myspace came into being and I heard quite a bit about the site from others at work. People would have their pages up to show me and I wasn't that impressed. I didn't see what the point was. To me, it looked like drunken college pictures and short communications with other people. Was email not good enough? This something that kids did nowadays. Middle schoolers did Myspace is what I had decided. Afterall, I was 31 years old.
Then Facebook popped up. "What's that?", I asked.
"It's like Myspace", was the reply.
"Huh?", I said.
"Do you have a Myspace page?"
"No, I'm not a fourteen year old girl", I responded.
"Well, everybody has one", said the other person.
"Everybody in the eighth grade", I said, getting slightly irritated. "Why is it different from Myspace?".
Some explanation was given to me and I never set up a page. Shortly, the rest of America got one. I resisted. An old friend of mine sent me an email inviting me to join Facebook. I clicked over to the facebook.com and stared at it. Naw, not doing it. I felt it was a tool of a narcicist. I am relatively introverted and generally don't draw much attention, which would make me a great super villain. Weeks and months went by and I bit the Facebook bullet. I don't know how many "friends" I have and I never made it a point to have hundreds. I don't know hundreds of people and the fact that there are no prizes for having a ton of friends, I'm okay. It is nice to see what old friends are up to. It seems to have reduced the need for high school reunions. I glance at my Facebook page once, twice a week. When my daughter was born, I had to feed her and not be on the computer so much. Dad stuff. Now companies want me to check them out on Facebook. It's become a handy marketing tool I assume companies use to see how many people know they exist. Doritos, I know what you are. I know where I can obtain you. I am not going to "Like" you on Facebook (please bring the Four Cheese flavor back).
Some time later, in the Dallas, TX newsroom I call "where I work", a reporter brought up in a meeting that there is some thing called Twitter that is like Facebook, but more immediate. Instead of writing a message on your Facebook wall, you write it on Twitter. But, you can only use 140 characters. I furrowed my brow and sipped my coffee and had an internal dialogue.
"What practical purpose do Tweets serve?"
"I'm not sure. But the reporter says Jay-Z is on it."
"Hmmm, he still hasn't friended me on Facebook yet."
"Should we do it?"
"No!"
Twitter has become rather popular. As I thought, celebrities use it to tell everyone practically nothing. Athletes use it to say dumb things. Apologies are usually tweeted afterwards. Twitter does have a practical use. News reporters use it because local governments will send tweets out if there is vital information that needs to be passed on. I drank the Twitter Kool-Aid sometime last year. I use it to follow comedians I like and news. That's about it. I think I have four followers. I don't tweet much, don't have anything vital to say.
So now I have started a blog. The final phase of accepting social media. I still bristle a bit when I hear the term 'social media'. As I said, I am a bit introverted and I guess writing about stuff on a blog is odd. More of that later perhaps.
It's 1:41 am as of the time of this writing. Time for sleep. Not sure who will read this and I guess you can leave comments. I might read them, but in case, respectability will be met with respectability, insolence will be met with insolence.
P.S. -Watching America's Best Sandwich is not a good idea after a workout.
A brief bio: I am 38 years old. I am a news photographer by occupation. I am married with one child, another on the way. I like movies, sports, and writing. Work often interferes with the last one.
With that out of the way, here we go.
I have been resistant to social media for a long time. Myspace came into being and I heard quite a bit about the site from others at work. People would have their pages up to show me and I wasn't that impressed. I didn't see what the point was. To me, it looked like drunken college pictures and short communications with other people. Was email not good enough? This something that kids did nowadays. Middle schoolers did Myspace is what I had decided. Afterall, I was 31 years old.
Then Facebook popped up. "What's that?", I asked.
"It's like Myspace", was the reply.
"Huh?", I said.
"Do you have a Myspace page?"
"No, I'm not a fourteen year old girl", I responded.
"Well, everybody has one", said the other person.
"Everybody in the eighth grade", I said, getting slightly irritated. "Why is it different from Myspace?".
Some explanation was given to me and I never set up a page. Shortly, the rest of America got one. I resisted. An old friend of mine sent me an email inviting me to join Facebook. I clicked over to the facebook.com and stared at it. Naw, not doing it. I felt it was a tool of a narcicist. I am relatively introverted and generally don't draw much attention, which would make me a great super villain. Weeks and months went by and I bit the Facebook bullet. I don't know how many "friends" I have and I never made it a point to have hundreds. I don't know hundreds of people and the fact that there are no prizes for having a ton of friends, I'm okay. It is nice to see what old friends are up to. It seems to have reduced the need for high school reunions. I glance at my Facebook page once, twice a week. When my daughter was born, I had to feed her and not be on the computer so much. Dad stuff. Now companies want me to check them out on Facebook. It's become a handy marketing tool I assume companies use to see how many people know they exist. Doritos, I know what you are. I know where I can obtain you. I am not going to "Like" you on Facebook (please bring the Four Cheese flavor back).
Some time later, in the Dallas, TX newsroom I call "where I work", a reporter brought up in a meeting that there is some thing called Twitter that is like Facebook, but more immediate. Instead of writing a message on your Facebook wall, you write it on Twitter. But, you can only use 140 characters. I furrowed my brow and sipped my coffee and had an internal dialogue.
"What practical purpose do Tweets serve?"
"I'm not sure. But the reporter says Jay-Z is on it."
"Hmmm, he still hasn't friended me on Facebook yet."
"Should we do it?"
"No!"
Twitter has become rather popular. As I thought, celebrities use it to tell everyone practically nothing. Athletes use it to say dumb things. Apologies are usually tweeted afterwards. Twitter does have a practical use. News reporters use it because local governments will send tweets out if there is vital information that needs to be passed on. I drank the Twitter Kool-Aid sometime last year. I use it to follow comedians I like and news. That's about it. I think I have four followers. I don't tweet much, don't have anything vital to say.
So now I have started a blog. The final phase of accepting social media. I still bristle a bit when I hear the term 'social media'. As I said, I am a bit introverted and I guess writing about stuff on a blog is odd. More of that later perhaps.
It's 1:41 am as of the time of this writing. Time for sleep. Not sure who will read this and I guess you can leave comments. I might read them, but in case, respectability will be met with respectability, insolence will be met with insolence.
P.S. -Watching America's Best Sandwich is not a good idea after a workout.
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