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| Behold the awesomeness of my ride... and some squished bugs |
Have you seen the Newsroom?
Not OUR newsroom. I mean the TV show. It's my new favourite programme, but I'm careful about who I recommend it to. It's very in-house. If you're not directly involved with the media, or an obsessive news junkie, I'm really not sure if you'd get anything out of it.
Sure, the writing is switchblade-sharp and the cast performances are the best I've seen since Boston Legal, but if you're not into current affairs, I think the major plot lines would leave you cold.
To be really, really honest, I probably like it so much because it's about my job. If you HAVE seen it, I can confirm it is a very accurate recreation of a working newsroom.
For the uninitiated, you may find it hard to believe things could be quite so dramatic, high pressure and downright chaotic on such a regular basis. All I can tell you is there is a genuine adrenaline rush associated with the quest to be the first to report the next big story.
People often ask me how I can work in such a pressure-cooker situation, especially at 4 in the morning. Like anything, you just get used to functioning at that level. You keep reminding yourself it's only radio and it's not like you're running a country or operating on somebody's brain for a living.
In saying that, things get exponentially more challenging when my host is broadcasting the show from another hemisphere.
Just the mere fact I can't make eye-contact with him is a pain, and not because I particularly enjoy gazing into the Hosk's piercing baby blues. (Or whatever the hell colour they are) As Big Mike's chief button pusher, it's my responsibility to convey balanced skepticism when he bleats on about how wonderful everything is. I usually do this via a series of eyebrow raises, shoulder shrugs and forehead slaps I can no longer communicate when he's rabbiting on on the other side of the globe.
Oh, and it helps to know if Mike is actually in the studio or not. You know, when it's time to talk on the radio.
There are certain technical difficulties an international OB throws up as well. I don't know if you've ever tried to get hold of an author in London via her agent in Christchurch so we can pre-record an interview with my host in San Francisco, but it's not quite as easy as it sounds. (This is while trying to broadcast live commentary of an America's Cup race at the same time, of course)
I never feel like I can go to the toilet or make a coffee in case somebody needs me for something. Luckily, less coffee means less loo stops, so that sort of balances itself out.
And there's always the vague paranoia the line connecting us is about to fall over leaving me with no host whatsoever. Don't laugh. It's happened before.
No, it's not fun. Especially when I have to spend the entire show being told what an awesome time everyone's having where I'm not. By everyone, I mean everyone. Mike, Mrs. Staino (the producer) and even my boss. They're all there and I'm here. I never get to go, because someone has to stay and push the buttons. My other colleagues all sympathise. In fact, they keep coming into the studio to tell me how sorry they are for me. Not helping guys. Not helping at all.
But...
At least I get to use Hosko's car park. I now no longer care what the weather conditions are because I can drive directly from my house to the Radio Network garage. I can't express how awesome and wankerishly important that makes me feel. (Tempered only slightly by the knowledge that's the way Mike gets to feel every day. He's not driving a majestic Corolla like me though)
So, in spite of everything, it's not all bad. I stole Hosking's tickets to the rugby too. Boom.
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| It may not look like much, but it is much |
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