I'm having trouble sleeping. I'm haveing trouble focusing. I'm not enjoying thime with my friends. I'm smoking too much, eating too much, and smiling too little. It's been a rough patch, with tall weeds, and I'm ill-equiped to forge a path. I think I'm getting lost.
Case in point : My big, long, story about campaign finance.
I worked for the better part of Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday to research, shoot and write a story about the funds involved in the race for Strom Thurmond's job. Honestly, I worked my ass of on it, most days I stayed very late.
I worked with a great shooter, a dedicated producer, and a talented production staff.
The story sucked.
Last night I couldn't sleep (which in itself is not a new phenomenon) because I couldn't stop feeling bad about the story. We were planning on something big and I was trusted to pull it off. Instead I dropped the ball. Part of the story were ill concieved, others just badly prepared. I had a good idea for telling the stroy, but it quickly fizzled into a long boring lecture.
I suppose this points to a bigger problem. I may not have the chops to be a "real" reporter. I am a pretty good writer and storyteller and I can usually come up with creative devices for my pack, but I don't cut it when I need to research a hard news story. I don't want to anymore. I've always felt like I did more features because that's just what I prefered, but now I think it's simply my strength. I used to get upset by the LONG running newsroom joke "THERE'S A FACT IN YOUR STORY...OH GOD !!!".... perhaps the truth just hurts.
I DID take the backdoor into this job and I guess I always assumed it was easy. I won some stupid award from a group of people I don't know...and that only heightened my arogance. The people who were trained and schooled in professional reporting still have the edge. They should handle news. I'll do entertainment. I'm still an imposter. It proves the silliness of awards.
NOTE::::
Apparently, the blog phenomenon is, for me, tied to mood. I haven't felt like posting in awhile. But now, I really need to vent. Fortunately, nobody checks this page anymore... which is probably good. The BLOG is best as a journal. And nobody deserves to know just how dark the diseased mind is.
Still, I feel bad about my disinterest in the anniversarry of the terrorist attacks. I didn't watch the hours of breathless network ad-lib that replaced the daytime soaps. I ignored the vast majority of our evening news. I turned the TV off during the "network nightly". I never turned it back on for our 30 minute mid-evening special. I made a special effort to ignore the whole damn thing.
It's not that I don't care about September 11th. How could I not? I cried last year. The stories are heartbreaking and the images unforgettable. Still, I don't see the need to relive it.
I suppose the argument in favor of this media circus is simple. A one-year "anniversarry" is always a signifigant event. That's certainly true in this case. But I felt like my media compatriots were taking advantage. Screw them.
The TODAY show is famous for that kind of garbage. If your kid is kidnapped, they'll have you on live the next day. ZOOM IN FOR TEARS. It's sick, it's gripping, and it's ratings GOLD. Screw them.
So am I insensitive? I don't think so... even in the larger context dear reader... which has likely made you smirk as you read. I just hate my own profession sometimes. Perhaps that's how I'll remember 9/11 next year. A total media boycott. I'll just have to get out of work that day. This year 2 minutes of the nonsense were mine.
Crap... gotta go... my interview for the therapy dog that's also starring in Annie is calling... ITS A DOG... thank god for my normal beat.
A big thank you to the University of Georgia for it's hard work. They've now turned out the "2001 Annual Survey of Journalism and Mass Communication Graduates".
You'll love the findings. Here are some highlights :
** The percentage of graduates from a journalism or mass communitactions program with a bachelor's degree who found full-time employment by October was 12 points lower than the previous year
** The unemployment rate for those graduates was higher than the rate of overall unemployment. It was lower in all previous studys.
** The salaries were down from the previous year by an average of about $1,000.00
** 2001 graduates recieved fewer benefits than in previous years
** Job satisfaction if those who found full-time jobs declined from the previous year.
** A higher percentage reported that they regretted the decision to study journalism
** Fewer expect to remain in the field of journalism until retirement
On the one hand, I've got a few new rants. On the other, they aren't that new. I may be a pretty simple person.
First. I was cut off in traffic by a guy in an older model ratty rust pickup. The official pace car of the redneck olympics. This likely participant tore accross a yellow-lighted school zone intersection at 7:15 this morning, just as I was about to make a right turn. He was going at least 55. I stopped, he passed, and the children we witness to nothing. Perhaps a little cursing, but my windows were rolled up.
It really really really pissed me off. This YAY-hoo was headed the same direction as me so when I made the right turn he was right in front of me. I saw him turn into his apartment complex, get out, and go inside. That's it. His last two blocks before getting home COULD NOT take an extra two minutes. Instead, he felt it better to risk the lives of elementary school children lining up for school. Gotta have priorities. Two kids got hit on the way to the bus yesterday, but hey, those drivers probably had somewhere important to be.
Clearly, this totally pissed me off. I believe I called him a "selfish prick".
Back to the tired and true rant now : I do the same thing. Not, speed like that through a school intersection, but I DO speed. Almost always really. I also tear through yellow lights. I totalled a car that way. I'm a selfish prick too. I just hate seeing someone else do the same thing. Thus, ROAD RAGE. I suspect most people who deal with "road rage" are just like that. People who know they don't do everything right in the car reacting violently, partly out of misdirected guilt, at the first bastard to deserve the ire.
Second. I spend too much time at work. This week, as of 9:10 AM on Friday, I've put in 52 hours. It's been a bitch. (this usually leads me to a gripe about producers but, really, whats the point?) The real bummer is, I haven't done really great work. Pretty mediocre at best. I'm also working this Saturday... 12 more hours and a drive to Atlanta and back. The bright side is that this will be an award entry for me. I'll skip the incest committe and submit it myself. Saves the stress.
(I think I actually hit on about 4 old rants with number 2... I'll leave it here)
PS... let's drink to excess tonight. I'd like to stumble.
There are few people who enjoy what they do. Work is work. Fun is fun. Rarely, the twain doth meet.
That's not to say that people are necessarily UNHAPPY at work. Just that, it isn't wrok that makes them happy.
The garbage collector, the firefighter, the salesman (or -woman with all due respect), wake up every day and go to work. Just like everyone else. There are people who dig holes in 100 degree heat. There are those that clean up the backflow of a broken septic tank. Most jobs suck. They still have to get done. They also don't allow much time for online golf games, loading dock small talk, and general goofing around. We've got them all beat in that respect.
Perhaps the biggest illusion of the TV business is that we somehow expect our work to make us happy. It's as if we think that, as pseudo-public servants we should feel some rich reward, only to feel dissappointment at the fourth airing of a story about "A Revolutionalry new health breakthrough", for people with four legs and bad breath.
It's as if we expect work to be fun! It's not but, honestly, isn't it a damn sight more fun than most other jobs.
The reason all these sh+t cleaners and hole diggers can make it through every dull mindless day, is because they don't look to WORK for FUN. They look to the people they work WITH, for companionship and comisseration. They look to friends and family for support. They have hobbies and interests. They have a life and they have a job. Only one of them is SUPPOSED to be fun. That's why employers have to PAY you to show up.
Granted, I'm the king of the workplace bitchers. And Granted, I feel like work often lets me down. But I do enjoy what I do more than any other JOB I've ever had. And for FUN, I go drinking with the guys, or I take Morgan for a tricycle ride, or I teach Anna about her colors, or I hang out with my famliy. I can watch baseball, eat shellfish, and read a good book.
Work is a necessary evil. It ain't supposed to be fun. The best we can do is enjoy the company of good people around us (at work and otherwise) and earn enough to survive.
Just for today, be happy, have fun, and GET TO WORK!
For a long time I've known about my two biggest "issues". (for the record, I have issues with people who have "issues". everybidy has "issues")
For one, I'm confrontational and competitive. Second, I never quite know when to shut-UP.
In high school, I always got into trouble. The classroom variety of that always involved smart talk. Frankly, I could never sit on a good one-liner. There were so many times when I knew I was already on the ropes and a teacher was looking for a knockout, still I just HAD to speak up. It's as if, whenver I knew I had something damn funny, I HAD to spill it. TOTAL LACK OF SELF-CONTROL??? No. It was just pride. I wanted credit for a great spur-of-the-moment line and BY GOD! I was gonna get it.
I still sorta have that problem.
Just yesterday, I got into round 457 with my good friend CO-ANCH. Pride, again, was sorta the issue. I had just hopped onto the IFB for a very important conversation with the technical director. I needed to know if he got those free golf passes. CO-ANCH, after a morning of bickering, hopped on the very same IFB to ask why in the world anyone would spend their free time woth me. Now, before I continue, I should point out that CO-ANCH has been working to save my soul for some time. Just last week she told me she wouldn't talk to me until I turned my life over to Christ. So when she snubbed me yesterday, I promtly asked her, "Is that the Christian way to act?"
Oooops!
She flew into a rage. She indicated that because I am the devil, I didn't need to be treated with Christian kindness. OUCH
That said, I passed her several times during the day with my fingers in my head for horns... and a good evil laugh. OOOPS.
Then there's more.
Later, after I returned from my story, I realized that I was using a "CHRIS" pen that clearly belonged to one of my photog. co-workers. I yelled for him, and tossed it over.
CO-ANCH heard me call to "CHRIS" and wheeled on me. "What were you doing behind my back?!" she asked.
Clearly, I did nothing wrong, but I didn't want to be at a loss for words and was determined to WIN the confrontation so.... I told her I made fun of her. She demanded I stay out of her personal space. YIKES!
Again pride was the culprit. I shoudda said "nothin' honey".
I suck.
...y'know, it's possible that I have some. More on that to come....
Actually, the thing that bothers me is that I seem particularly aware of my flaws in other people. And it's those flaws that most disgust me. I'm aware, I think, that this s going on...but still, I can't avoid or contain the revulsion that they produce.
Perhaps the problem is a failure to address my own problems. Who the F++K knows? Maybe that's why opposites attract. For example:
I can be a very self-centered person. I HATE people who are self-centered.
I can be very vocal about anythin' about which I disagree. I HATE loudmouth bastards.
I like to pick on people. I HATE bullys.
I am very confrontational. I HATE people who like to fight.
Honestly, the people I most enjoy spending time with share very few of my personality traits. My wife and I have hundreds of common interests... but its safe to say that I'm of a different personality type.
In the case of CRIMEGUY and his wife MAIDENNAME... I get along much better with him I suspect because I have more in common with her. She and I actually have fairly similar personalities. That makes for some pretty good fights. I feel sorry for him having to come between.
In fact, I can only think of a VERY few people, who are very like me, that I CAN get along with all the time. FINGERS is a good example. I don't know why but there it is.
Here's one suggestion... perhaps I hate those traits in myself. That could be.
Still, I tend to think that those traits are exactly what make me....ME.
And the really confusing thing is... despite my being defined by traits I clearly don't like.... I'm pretty comfortable with who I am.
It's a HUM-DINGER.
