little lost robot

Most of you have probably have seen it, but I like posting it on Halloween anyway. Back in the day I was a foil covered, cardboard robot and my brother Tater was my martian overlord.

Here’s s snapshot of a lovely Halloween card we got from my mother-in-law this week. I love how robots and zombies are everywhere in pop culture right now (except that I’m kinda getting zombie fatigue at this point) and you can find all kinda of cool stuff like this around the holidays. I swear, man, last year was Robot Christmas.

Anyway, the week has started off with all kinds of non-stop coverage on the local students killed in the Ocean Isle beach house, and it’s the perfect momentum going into November sweeps, which - judging by my schedule - is gonna be rather hectic. Although my key to getting through ratings is pretty simple: I find little things to look forward to, spacing them out by every few days. Like random television shows, or this weekend’s Morrissey concert, for example.

*[The inside of the card translates the phrase as: “That’s Robot Language for Happy Halloween!”]

Valdez and I always seem to draw the fun assignments, and today was no different. We shot a story about the hardships on local cattle farmers and dairy farms due to the long-standing drought. And even though it was raining for a good part of the day, I think we were still able to turn a decent drought story. Thanks, in no small part to the cows. We can’t thank the cows enough. [video]

One of which butted me in the head when I got too close to it during Jennifer’s standup tease. The photo above shows me carefully feeding the cows, as I worried over possibly losing a finger in the process. I later learned that they had no front teeth by which to deform me. Although the cows did have one weapon at their disposal: their awful smell. We were warned by another reporter that we’d come back to the station reeking of cow’s ass, but I had a secret weapon of my own: the can of Febreeze I keep under the seat (so my car doesn’t smell like Chik-Fil-A).

We made sure to spray everything down really well, including my XDCAM. Read more

Our morning meeting kicked off, with a slightly higher attendance, everyone gathering in the newsroom to check out the new boss. Some folks had a chance to meet him a few weeks back, amid a week of whirlwind job candidate visits, but I only was only able to get a meaningful nod in. Today’s meeting began with the current (or is it former?) News Director, Andy Still introducing the new guy and talking a little bit about this week’s transition. He also wanted to let everyone know that there is zero awkwardness about the fact that we have two news directors this week, which in that moment felt kinda awkward. Regardless, we get Andy for another week. Everyone wins.

I had a chance to meet with Justin after the meeting, and he seemed pretty cool - which is in no way influenced by the fact that he mentioned reading my blog. And on that note, I’ll end this entry before I start trading my dignity and future well being by continuing to write more “witty” observations.

Portal - It was packaged as an added value to The Orange Box for Xbox 360, but ends up stealing the show. You play the game as a human lab rat, making your way through deadly mazes armed with a gun that shoots only teleportation portals. Thanks to YouTube, some of the more difficult (and insane) levels now have visual strategy guides. Folks who don’t have a game system can play a really sweet, side scrolling flash version of the game. Can’t get enough portal.

Dexter - I finished reading the third Dexter book last week. It was good, but it definitely wasn’t as strong as the other two novels - maybe it was too different. The cable show is still going strong, but I can’t bear to watch it in anything other than HD.

Thursday morning I rushed down to the Law Enforcement Center to shoot a “perp walk” - one of my favorite things to shoot, for some reason. I love racing against the clock to get there in time, or finally getting the shot after waiting around for hours. And then there’s the off chance the perp will react to one of the random questions you throw out. Although my questions - like today, for example - always seem to be kinda unconfident and forced: “Umm…what do you have to say about the charges and stuff that…you’re being charged with?” He didn’t give an answer.

Anyway, the whole point of this post was just to show the photo on the paper the next day and point out that I’m skulking in the background (left). That never happens. Usually it’s just an arm or my hand. One time a photog friend of mine was shown on the front page of the paper being choked “Darth Vader style” by a cop. Also, I used to have a news director that would reward us with cash if our microphone flag was featured prominently in the newspaper, so we’d all check the paper on the day following a major news story and see if we got lucky.

This afternoon I was the photographer assigned to shoot the live “Geoff on the Road” segments - this week he went to the local Table Tennis Club. I can’t remember what the exact name of their league was, but I do know that they go apeshit on anyone that accidentally calls it “ping pong”, rather than “table tennis.” And, I admit it was fun watching them cringe every time our field producer, Amanda called it by the wrong name.

It was scary how good they all were at the game, and it was kinda awesome how the whole crew seemed like they stepped right out of a movie about ping pong table tennis. Despite their intimidating athletic prowess, Amanda and I decided to face off against two of their more savage players.

After we took the photo, the mini-tennis nerds were quick to point out that we should be immediately disqualified for putting our arms on the table before the serve. Either they didn’t want their children players to face our devastating serve, or they got their little revenge on us for repeatedly saying PING PONG.

For this Vegas vacation, we made Paris our base of operations. I really liked staying there; we got an awesome room in the newer section. Also, in the few places like the Mon Ami Gabi cafe, you get to experience a little slice of France without being hated because you’re an American. Instead, you’re just hated for being a tourist, and I’m okay with that.

Also, I’ve come to realize that I’ve been to Las Vegas so many times since I turned 21 (many years ago) that I’ve seriously lost count, and my wild Vegas stories are all so random and crazy that when I start telling them, I almost sound like I’m lying, but he fact that it’s set in Vegas still gives me the benefit of the doubt. Occasionally I feel like a modern day Chaucer spinning fanciful yarns in my own sleazy, drunken neon-colored version of the Canterbury Tales.

I’ve noticed that the casinos have pretty much given up on discouraging people from taking photos while inside, as ninety-eight percent of the visitors have a digital camera and will stop every few feet to take a snapshot. Another disturbing trend is the increase in the number of non-handicapped people riding around in those supermarket-style scooters everywhere instead of just walking.
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