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Live Paradox

A journeyman’s ramblings: He is no everyman, but one who turns a carefully focused eye on the events of the madcap world around him. He aims to point out what others miss and draw attention to the patterns that exist amongst the chaos. 

Friday, June 25, 2004

8:53 PM -

WAG - No film at Eleven


Note: This post was started Monday. It was finished Tuesday morning. Somehow, it was deleted Tuesday afternoon (at least when viewed through Microsoft Explorer; it could still be seen using Netscape). Here's a re-posting for those of you who want the complete story:

So the call comes to the Missourian newsdesk Monday asking to talk to interview a reporter.

Is there a specific reporter, the J-306 receptionist for the day asks.

No, any reporter will do, is the reply.

Who wants to talk about being a reporter is the general question that sweeps the computer terminals close enough to the front desk to hear the quasi-secretary's question.

Way too quickly for my taste, people start to home in on me.

Can you do it Caleb, I am asked.

The disparaging phrases I use in place of obscenities softly spill from my lips.

I try to pass the buck.

I ask another reporter, more experienced than me in the profession, if she is doing anything important.

The look I receive in turn quickly informs me, yes, she is and how dare I take up her time to insinuate otherwise...

I come to the realization I cannot gracefully pass the buck any farther down the line and agree to do the video.

It won't be shown on TV, the girl over the phone tells me.

I get the vibe it is for a class project as I jot down details and agree to show up an hour later.

Time passes and I show up in the old media lab control room. I know it quite well from all the time I spent helping film "JC Rocks," the local Christian TV show on campus, which used the same location. People are scrambling around. Someone tells me I’ll be next after they finish this interview and I pick a corner as far removed from the bustle as I can and read a book.

The interview ends and everyone starts swapping stations. The producer comes up to me, introduces herself, and gives me a list of questions. I am brought onto the stage and I am reminded how life beneath the blazing lights is always warm.

I soon realize this is a class of Communications majors. I learn they do about 12 different snippet programs a week all while working with different jobs in the process. The interviewer shows up, I would guess he was changing into his snazzy outfit after his last task was completed, and we have a pre-interview.

We have a good rapport and the three camera operators tell us we did well; and I trust that since camera workers are typically brutally honest when they decide to say something (though when they remain silent about your performance, that speaks volumes as well).

The countdown comes and we do the same thing while the cameras are rolling. I have quick concise answers filled with colorful vocabulary but still sounding somewhat intelligent. I am proud of myself.

Then we do the interview twice more, both to tweak some minor things and just because there is time.

The following times are a bit harder, for one wants to keep answers short and not ramble on a tangent for fear of going over the allotted three minute time. Also, trying to remember the witty answers you’ve given already, and still trying to make them sound off-the-cuff, is especially hard.

I did blank out on a single question during the last run through.

How do I bring information to my readers and ensure it is accurate? We do a series lectures on that topic, and I’m now asked to give an answer in 18 seconds or less? Oh well… I didn’t let that get me too flustered. Though I turned a shade of pink, I still spoke slowly and clearly and kept going (despite desperate wishes to turn to the camera and go “Can we do that again,” for I knew the answer would be no).

I had a good time; even if I messed up once. It was nice being back in the old studio and having no other responsibility than sitting in a chair and answering questions.

When it was all over, I unclipped my microphone and let myself out. I heard a few final compliments, more for my first two interviews, before I slipped out the building.

I know the segment will be more graded on the performance of the production values than of the interviewee. I hope I did them justice. I also hope I’m a bit farther away from the newsdesk and working on something important myself the next time a call comes through looking for someone to talk about journalism in an interview that will only be seen by a communications instructor.

'That’s_a_wrap'


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