As promised way back on February 1st's entry, an update to the elusive job search for that TV job I know I should be at.
Positions I had bookmarked at Monster.com were already filled, so I turned to current listings. They have one for a news station in Cedar Rapids, IA, that doesn't even require previous experience. Just think what my experience could generate for me from an initial low position; previous experience could prove invaluable! (There's also a job that I saved doing set-up and production in Valley Forge, PA.)
I am also trying to network with others like me through MySpace. I added one of the Fox Sports Net producers as a friend, and finally found long-time associate Alan on MySpace. He's about my best bet right now in trying to master the digital technology that has changed the field since I was last active. I would only hope he'd know that I'm serious on this one.
You can't beat a group of like-minded individuals who want to help the others succeed. That's just part of what my many jobs in the field were like, and one of the main reasons it was so enjoyable to do.
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Tuesday, March 6, 2007
Objectivity or equal time
Nice quote in today's paper attributable to Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas, about why he doesn't do interviews:
"In the past, the media often have their own script... (They) have been universally untrustworthy because they have their own notions..."
I actually say "nice" in an ironic, somewhat sarcastic tone, because we all know how difficult & controversial the Clarence Thomas confirmation proceedings went nearly 15 years ago. Sometimes, the subject will bring the controversies, issues & questions on his/herself.
But it is still the goal of the news media to promote unbiased stories (though "sweeps week" in TV broadcast media blemishes that idea) wherever possible. This is the ultimate goal of a TV interviewer who decides not to go the Jerry Springer route. People may witness emotions in interviews, but they tune in mostly to get factual information about issues.
I actually found it hard to watch a few local public affairs shows two years ago during election season, where the mayoral candidate of my old hometown was interviewed by a show host who had done business with her before. He was promoting a forum on a hotly-contested mayoral race. Were they younger, I'm sure they would have high-fived each other through the interview.
What kept him from getting the Clarence Thomas stigma is that he granted equal time to the remaining candidates; each received their own half-hour forum. The host could afford to be "biased" for one half-hour; provided he return the favor for the other candidates.
Half my later years in TV production were on interview shows like this one. So, for interviewers who want to give the medium a better name than it has now (print as well as electronic journalism), show objectivity, even if you've done your field research and may find some issues.
If not, then be sure your program is not a "one-time special", and be prepared to host differing points of view. My best friend's mother years ago taught me there were two sides to every story, and the complete person heard both sides.
If you want to avoid Supreme Court intervention (lol), you'll take the objective route.
"In the past, the media often have their own script... (They) have been universally untrustworthy because they have their own notions..."
I actually say "nice" in an ironic, somewhat sarcastic tone, because we all know how difficult & controversial the Clarence Thomas confirmation proceedings went nearly 15 years ago. Sometimes, the subject will bring the controversies, issues & questions on his/herself.
But it is still the goal of the news media to promote unbiased stories (though "sweeps week" in TV broadcast media blemishes that idea) wherever possible. This is the ultimate goal of a TV interviewer who decides not to go the Jerry Springer route. People may witness emotions in interviews, but they tune in mostly to get factual information about issues.
I actually found it hard to watch a few local public affairs shows two years ago during election season, where the mayoral candidate of my old hometown was interviewed by a show host who had done business with her before. He was promoting a forum on a hotly-contested mayoral race. Were they younger, I'm sure they would have high-fived each other through the interview.
What kept him from getting the Clarence Thomas stigma is that he granted equal time to the remaining candidates; each received their own half-hour forum. The host could afford to be "biased" for one half-hour; provided he return the favor for the other candidates.
Half my later years in TV production were on interview shows like this one. So, for interviewers who want to give the medium a better name than it has now (print as well as electronic journalism), show objectivity, even if you've done your field research and may find some issues.
If not, then be sure your program is not a "one-time special", and be prepared to host differing points of view. My best friend's mother years ago taught me there were two sides to every story, and the complete person heard both sides.
If you want to avoid Supreme Court intervention (lol), you'll take the objective route.
Friday, March 2, 2007
The fifth grader got me
Game shows, as you've probably guessed by now, are one of my favorite genre of TV programs. Yet in today's American Idol-filled world, the quality of those shows plays toward the dramatic element only. Lost in the steep production values are the value of the quiz itself. I tend to look for substance over flash.
Something rose above the horizon last night that I actually enjoyed: Are You Smarter Than A Fifth Grader?
I enjoyed this show right from the start. It was screamingly funny to me to see grown-ups struggle to answer questions that would be posed from first to fifth-graders, who make up part of the "panel". You even see graphics superimposed underneath a nervous adult contestant, struggling with a third-grade topic, declaring "She had a 3.87 high school GPA!" Good natured jabs, for sure.
What a glorious look at role reversal: the grown-ups depending on the kids for the answers. When proven correct, they high-five the kids as if they were high-fiving people their own age.
And these kids were marvelous. Total naturals, very enthusiastic, rooting for the adults, knowledgable of their subjects... and completely unnervous in front of the cameras. Grown-ups appearing on game shows will often tell the host they're nervous. You don't see any of these kids intimidated by the audience, the lights and the cameras; they go on their merry old way as if they were with their friends on the playground. Amazing that they handle the pressures better than our own peers do!
Plus, I'll admit I'm a Johnny-Come-Lately to warming to Jeff Foxworthy, who until yesterday I branded a Martin Mull-lookalike who knew nothing but the "redneck style". He has untapped skills as a game show host, and he looked great in the role; keeping the contestants on edge without overdoing it, as Regis & Meredith did with Millionaire.
The fifth grader did get me on one: I don't know my third grade measurements. It's fifteen teaspoons to five tablespoons - not ten!
No wonder none of my baking recipes ever turned out.
Something rose above the horizon last night that I actually enjoyed: Are You Smarter Than A Fifth Grader?
I enjoyed this show right from the start. It was screamingly funny to me to see grown-ups struggle to answer questions that would be posed from first to fifth-graders, who make up part of the "panel". You even see graphics superimposed underneath a nervous adult contestant, struggling with a third-grade topic, declaring "She had a 3.87 high school GPA!" Good natured jabs, for sure.
What a glorious look at role reversal: the grown-ups depending on the kids for the answers. When proven correct, they high-five the kids as if they were high-fiving people their own age.
And these kids were marvelous. Total naturals, very enthusiastic, rooting for the adults, knowledgable of their subjects... and completely unnervous in front of the cameras. Grown-ups appearing on game shows will often tell the host they're nervous. You don't see any of these kids intimidated by the audience, the lights and the cameras; they go on their merry old way as if they were with their friends on the playground. Amazing that they handle the pressures better than our own peers do!
Plus, I'll admit I'm a Johnny-Come-Lately to warming to Jeff Foxworthy, who until yesterday I branded a Martin Mull-lookalike who knew nothing but the "redneck style". He has untapped skills as a game show host, and he looked great in the role; keeping the contestants on edge without overdoing it, as Regis & Meredith did with Millionaire.
The fifth grader did get me on one: I don't know my third grade measurements. It's fifteen teaspoons to five tablespoons - not ten!
No wonder none of my baking recipes ever turned out.
Was I nervous?
Citing what I just wrote above, the question begs to be asked: Was I ever nervous in front of a camera?
Realisitically, no from the beginning. Technically, no after the first time (reading cue cards killed me at first). This may seem to be an unfair judgement, because I never had to perform before an audience.
Still, I back up my stance: though there was no audience, I knew that the cameras were rolling and your show was going live on the air. How did I manage to go through as if I were born to be in front of a camera?
Simple: I blocked out the camera. It helped that the lights were shining right in my face to where I was literally blinded from seeing the camera. I was able to see my script on the board in front of me, and not much else.
But I only told myself the camera wasn't on me. My mind was used to that thought. The camera is not "on" 95% of the time as I keep going into the studio to make technical adjustments. I just assumed my tapings were further technical adjustments that would be corrected so I would be "ready for the live shot." And by the time my "adjustments" were finished, so in essence was the live shoot! There was nothing for me to worry about.
Psychological ploys can get you through anything, including facing a camera. The body is easily fooled into thinking of other conditions if you can convince yourself those false conditions are true. Whether the kids on the game show thought that is not my knowledge.
But, like me, they blocked out all nervousness -- and shone like stars. They were fantastic.
Realisitically, no from the beginning. Technically, no after the first time (reading cue cards killed me at first). This may seem to be an unfair judgement, because I never had to perform before an audience.
Still, I back up my stance: though there was no audience, I knew that the cameras were rolling and your show was going live on the air. How did I manage to go through as if I were born to be in front of a camera?
Simple: I blocked out the camera. It helped that the lights were shining right in my face to where I was literally blinded from seeing the camera. I was able to see my script on the board in front of me, and not much else.
But I only told myself the camera wasn't on me. My mind was used to that thought. The camera is not "on" 95% of the time as I keep going into the studio to make technical adjustments. I just assumed my tapings were further technical adjustments that would be corrected so I would be "ready for the live shot." And by the time my "adjustments" were finished, so in essence was the live shoot! There was nothing for me to worry about.
Psychological ploys can get you through anything, including facing a camera. The body is easily fooled into thinking of other conditions if you can convince yourself those false conditions are true. Whether the kids on the game show thought that is not my knowledge.
But, like me, they blocked out all nervousness -- and shone like stars. They were fantastic.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Article on ex-hometown operations
The drama is not close to ending for that Michigan House Bill that would eliminate franchise fees going to cities & townships for cable television operations, thereby sorely limiting a community's ability for its residence to produce their own local programming, sports spots, and so forth.
Though this article doesn't specifically focus on the pending bill, it does deal with the gradual rises in cable TV rates, and does imply that the department responsible for telecasting local events is operating at a loss. A loss of community programming ability is a loss of ability to express views and be known on a local basis. As has been said before, people actually do like to see themselves on TV, even if not on a grandstanding scale.
The last quote of the article just kills me, though: "On a sunny day you could go down to the river, watch the boats and take your laptop." Wyandotte: a city known for great parks and an excellent waterfront... and you want to take a laptop despite the surroundings? Great chuckle for the day.
Though this article doesn't specifically focus on the pending bill, it does deal with the gradual rises in cable TV rates, and does imply that the department responsible for telecasting local events is operating at a loss. A loss of community programming ability is a loss of ability to express views and be known on a local basis. As has been said before, people actually do like to see themselves on TV, even if not on a grandstanding scale.
The last quote of the article just kills me, though: "On a sunny day you could go down to the river, watch the boats and take your laptop." Wyandotte: a city known for great parks and an excellent waterfront... and you want to take a laptop despite the surroundings? Great chuckle for the day.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Script props can be bloopers
Especially while going through sheer boredom the past week or so, I long for some of those old cable access programs I produced & hosted in from a decade ago, so I can laugh at what I was like back then.
I always made sure to compose a tape of bloopers/mistakes, which always turn out to be funnier than the finished product. Thinking back on the Four-Pro Forum sports show I used to host, it came to mind that 95% of those miscues came from reading a script, fastened together as a prop either on the table in front of me, or on an easel underneath the camera lens.
Of the four on-screen hosts, I was the only one that required a written script; even though the bulk of the show was impromptu sports discussion. Perhaps I didn't do my research until the last minute, as many shows saw me out in the hallway thumbing through sports magazines and writing down highlights.
I knew that once we got to my segment of the show, the conversation would flow normally. But when we would preview our subject material at the talk of the show, it did seem staged, especially my portion. And yet, this is where the bulk of the bloopers came from: in an urge for perfection in pronounciation, I would stumble over a word, and need to re-take the shot. I'm sure I exhausted my director's patience on more than one occassion.
One show, which was set in a classroom because the college studio wasn't available that day, was the most obvious. It took sixteen takes to get the forty-five second opening montage on film. I couldn't even bear to look at myself, as I had the worst case of the "giggles" ever (a prelude to bronchitis I would get two days later). I had to stick to the script because I thought, without printed words to guide me, I would be clueless and look froze on camera.
Turns out that speaking from the heart, and not from a prop, would have gotten us out of the classroom a bit quicker than it ended up being.
This is proof positive you need to do your research if you want a presentable program. Any script you follow should be committed to memory before the cameras roll. You should be able to talk freely about the subject matter without having to worry about sentence structure. I still can't say why it didn't jell with me, since there are many TV shows and movies I've seen over & over to where I have all the script lines memorized, with unlimited retainment.
Script props, as a result, can contain a block of their own, in spite of their obvious purpose to help the reader through his or her task. Don't rely on this art exculsively, especially if you need to compile a second full tape of blooper openings. Though looking at them was funny in itself, it also showed that a better system had to be in place for the show to look reputable.
Commit your scripts to memory, and look like you're the self-proclaimed expert on your subject matter before going "live". For if not, your act will look anything BUT "live".
I always made sure to compose a tape of bloopers/mistakes, which always turn out to be funnier than the finished product. Thinking back on the Four-Pro Forum sports show I used to host, it came to mind that 95% of those miscues came from reading a script, fastened together as a prop either on the table in front of me, or on an easel underneath the camera lens.
Of the four on-screen hosts, I was the only one that required a written script; even though the bulk of the show was impromptu sports discussion. Perhaps I didn't do my research until the last minute, as many shows saw me out in the hallway thumbing through sports magazines and writing down highlights.
I knew that once we got to my segment of the show, the conversation would flow normally. But when we would preview our subject material at the talk of the show, it did seem staged, especially my portion. And yet, this is where the bulk of the bloopers came from: in an urge for perfection in pronounciation, I would stumble over a word, and need to re-take the shot. I'm sure I exhausted my director's patience on more than one occassion.
One show, which was set in a classroom because the college studio wasn't available that day, was the most obvious. It took sixteen takes to get the forty-five second opening montage on film. I couldn't even bear to look at myself, as I had the worst case of the "giggles" ever (a prelude to bronchitis I would get two days later). I had to stick to the script because I thought, without printed words to guide me, I would be clueless and look froze on camera.
Turns out that speaking from the heart, and not from a prop, would have gotten us out of the classroom a bit quicker than it ended up being.
This is proof positive you need to do your research if you want a presentable program. Any script you follow should be committed to memory before the cameras roll. You should be able to talk freely about the subject matter without having to worry about sentence structure. I still can't say why it didn't jell with me, since there are many TV shows and movies I've seen over & over to where I have all the script lines memorized, with unlimited retainment.
Script props, as a result, can contain a block of their own, in spite of their obvious purpose to help the reader through his or her task. Don't rely on this art exculsively, especially if you need to compile a second full tape of blooper openings. Though looking at them was funny in itself, it also showed that a better system had to be in place for the show to look reputable.
Commit your scripts to memory, and look like you're the self-proclaimed expert on your subject matter before going "live". For if not, your act will look anything BUT "live".
Monday, February 19, 2007
Colorization has improved
Today I watched two colorized clips of The Three Stooges on SpikeTV, and I came away very impressed.
Old movie series and older television series are re-issued every so often with the claim "remastered". But with this, as well as last week's entry about the 1960s Star Trek getting dazzling (for it) special effects, I think those in charge of remastering have finally mastered the art - no pun intended.
I had to look twice before I could verify it was an actual Stooges flick (and with Curly & Shemp, no less). I remember about twelve years ago, when Alan Thicke hosted a Stooges retrospective, complete with the first-ever colorized feature film from them. The tint of the overall video was blue, and it looked very grainy. You could tell it was a color-up job.
Yesterday's airing on Spike made it look as if the episode was originally produced in color in the 1930s. There were no defining color tints; everything was in balance. Even better, the sound was remastered, meaning you didn't hear any of that audio garbage the old films of the 30s and 40s are known for.
This was a nice treat, although I may be the first to say that I won't lose my nostalgic feeling over the old quality of those films. Sometimes, seeing them in black & white, with audio noise and bad splicing, only add to the flavor of those films.
I would never hope to see these colorized, restored versions become the rule completely. They are nice, they show how advanced the art of restoration has become, and it can be used as a selling point to get the attention of new generations, who have seen nothing but color and heard nothing but Dolby sound.
But for those of us who remember a different era; the one classically defined as Hollywood's "Golden Age", a return to the old quality doesn't hurt our viewing pleasure; in fact, it enhances it.
Old movie series and older television series are re-issued every so often with the claim "remastered". But with this, as well as last week's entry about the 1960s Star Trek getting dazzling (for it) special effects, I think those in charge of remastering have finally mastered the art - no pun intended.
I had to look twice before I could verify it was an actual Stooges flick (and with Curly & Shemp, no less). I remember about twelve years ago, when Alan Thicke hosted a Stooges retrospective, complete with the first-ever colorized feature film from them. The tint of the overall video was blue, and it looked very grainy. You could tell it was a color-up job.
Yesterday's airing on Spike made it look as if the episode was originally produced in color in the 1930s. There were no defining color tints; everything was in balance. Even better, the sound was remastered, meaning you didn't hear any of that audio garbage the old films of the 30s and 40s are known for.
This was a nice treat, although I may be the first to say that I won't lose my nostalgic feeling over the old quality of those films. Sometimes, seeing them in black & white, with audio noise and bad splicing, only add to the flavor of those films.
I would never hope to see these colorized, restored versions become the rule completely. They are nice, they show how advanced the art of restoration has become, and it can be used as a selling point to get the attention of new generations, who have seen nothing but color and heard nothing but Dolby sound.
But for those of us who remember a different era; the one classically defined as Hollywood's "Golden Age", a return to the old quality doesn't hurt our viewing pleasure; in fact, it enhances it.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
No outlets for exposure
The theme of my household changing cable companies/satellite providers is nothing new. In four years, this is about the fourth switchover we've made. Each time we get frustrated with the cable company, we switch the service over to the competitor.
Comcast doesn't have the best customer service reputation in these parts, but at least they provide much more of a local influence as far as local cable access goes. Their access channel serving this area provides over 35 hours of programming per week, and really gives the average Joe a voice over the airwaves.
WOW, however, provides the channel space, but in ten years of existence in this area, has not made one move towards providing facilites for the community. Equipment for cities, maybe. But that's only for use by city personnel. The average Joe sits at home, shouting at his set at any local garbage tossed his way, but where's his say? WOW does not provide the ability for a community forum, so indirectly, they really don't cater to the customer in every regard.
Cable access is a dying art, even though it is a right for a company to provide space, equipment, and personnel for the community to use. That's how I got involved in television in the first place. I can say firsthand that it is a rewarding experience, and when a production goes flawlessly, it is a true testament to true teamwork, a great character builder.
Now the Legislature is trying to pass that bill which would cut cable funds drastically for those purposes. I'm sure WOW is probably reading the papers and laughing, saying they're glad they never got involved in providing the community an outlet.
If only they knew what they're missing. Cable access is another realm away from what movies such as Wayne's World portrayed. You wouldn't believe how many local city politicians use access to get their point across, outside of the council chambers. For those who care about their cities, this is a welcome sight, because it shows those politicians as locals, and human - when it comes to addressing the issues honestly.
I miss that with the system we have now. If only I knew the magic formula and had the magic cash to get my own operation going, I could help put respect for the local medium back into place, and make it a little more fun. People love to see themselves on TV. It'd put a smile on my face to feed off that happiness.
Comcast doesn't have the best customer service reputation in these parts, but at least they provide much more of a local influence as far as local cable access goes. Their access channel serving this area provides over 35 hours of programming per week, and really gives the average Joe a voice over the airwaves.
WOW, however, provides the channel space, but in ten years of existence in this area, has not made one move towards providing facilites for the community. Equipment for cities, maybe. But that's only for use by city personnel. The average Joe sits at home, shouting at his set at any local garbage tossed his way, but where's his say? WOW does not provide the ability for a community forum, so indirectly, they really don't cater to the customer in every regard.
Cable access is a dying art, even though it is a right for a company to provide space, equipment, and personnel for the community to use. That's how I got involved in television in the first place. I can say firsthand that it is a rewarding experience, and when a production goes flawlessly, it is a true testament to true teamwork, a great character builder.
Now the Legislature is trying to pass that bill which would cut cable funds drastically for those purposes. I'm sure WOW is probably reading the papers and laughing, saying they're glad they never got involved in providing the community an outlet.
If only they knew what they're missing. Cable access is another realm away from what movies such as Wayne's World portrayed. You wouldn't believe how many local city politicians use access to get their point across, outside of the council chambers. For those who care about their cities, this is a welcome sight, because it shows those politicians as locals, and human - when it comes to addressing the issues honestly.
I miss that with the system we have now. If only I knew the magic formula and had the magic cash to get my own operation going, I could help put respect for the local medium back into place, and make it a little more fun. People love to see themselves on TV. It'd put a smile on my face to feed off that happiness.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
"Sport" versus "Game"
It only took me one day of having cable television in the house again to find one thing I didn't miss skimming past when I didn't have it: the over-proliferation of Poker on TV airwaves.
I am not knocking the game; I know it has a popular following, and I guess it's my fault I'm not a fan. But like other card games, I thought poker was exactly that: a game. Why is it classified as a sport, as it fills critical time slots on networks like ESPN and FOX Sports Net?
I wrote about this in my computer blog about two years ago. Enjoy it for what it's worth, even though it may not fully "stack the deck":
... Never mind the fact that I don't understand the game. It is gathering almost as much airwave coverage these days as professional wrestling.
I tie many things to the term "slow news day." For example, when the CNN ticker says "Today is ___day; there are 'x' days left in the year," you can tell that was a space filler. All informercials today are space filler because the stations cannot find any programming suitable to run (their poor excuse). Poker gets a "filler" grade in my opinion, and it wouldn't bother me so much, but WHY is it getting airtime on ESPN, ESPN2 and FOX Sports Net? When was poker ever considered a sport? Would you even think of considering it a spectator sport as compared to baseball, football, basketball or hockey? Absolutely not! How can you think of possible scenarios in televised poker when you don't get much advance notice by seeing the person's hand?
In baseball, you think of when the hit & run could be employed. Do you go for an on-side kick in football? The pick-and-roll play in hoops? Those games let you become an at-home manager as you decide what should be done and then yell at your TV set when it goes wrong. In Poker... what's the viewer to do, other than repeat the same line over and over: "What's he got next? What's she got next?" Piddling, isn't it?
I am not knocking the game; I know it has a popular following, and I guess it's my fault I'm not a fan. But like other card games, I thought poker was exactly that: a game. Why is it classified as a sport, as it fills critical time slots on networks like ESPN and FOX Sports Net?
I wrote about this in my computer blog about two years ago. Enjoy it for what it's worth, even though it may not fully "stack the deck":
... Never mind the fact that I don't understand the game. It is gathering almost as much airwave coverage these days as professional wrestling.
I tie many things to the term "slow news day." For example, when the CNN ticker says "Today is ___day; there are 'x' days left in the year," you can tell that was a space filler. All informercials today are space filler because the stations cannot find any programming suitable to run (their poor excuse). Poker gets a "filler" grade in my opinion, and it wouldn't bother me so much, but WHY is it getting airtime on ESPN, ESPN2 and FOX Sports Net? When was poker ever considered a sport? Would you even think of considering it a spectator sport as compared to baseball, football, basketball or hockey? Absolutely not! How can you think of possible scenarios in televised poker when you don't get much advance notice by seeing the person's hand?
In baseball, you think of when the hit & run could be employed. Do you go for an on-side kick in football? The pick-and-roll play in hoops? Those games let you become an at-home manager as you decide what should be done and then yell at your TV set when it goes wrong. In Poker... what's the viewer to do, other than repeat the same line over and over: "What's he got next? What's she got next?" Piddling, isn't it?
Re-master of a classic
Obviously, the superinformation highway doesn't pass me at more than an idle speed. This morning, I caught a glimpse of an episode of the original Star Trek series, and it was markedly different than when I've seen then before: the special effects have been improved ten-fold.
"The Doomsday Machine", one of my personal favorite episodes, was the one played (it's the one about the giant planet killer which featured Commodore Decker), and all the outer space effects looked as if they came out of Star Trek: Enterprise, produced 30-plus years later. I saw updated phaser effects and a much-improved shuttlecraft launch sequence, which I always thought was poorly portrayed & laid out in its original incarnation.
The "cliffhanger" of the episode always surrounded the Enterprise transporter malfunctioning while Captain Kirk is trying to beam back aboard. With the improved effects comes another reason to raise the pulse: you really get a birds-eye view of both the shuttlecraft and the disabled starship Constellation veering so close to the planet killer, as if you are really seeing the action from Kirk & Decker's vantage points.
Modern technology has enabled older television series to improve small things like effects and musical backgrounds without destroying the plot or pacing. Yet, an unwritten rule forces me to miss the old effects, even if they are cheesy. People always say that you shouldn't mess with a classic. But I think in this morning's case, change actually is for the better. As well-preserved as the show's picture quality has become, the new scenes fit right over the old footage, as if it were designed to fit in like a glove.
I was very impressed, and also surprised that the show aired on my ABC affiliate in Detroit. I never recall ABC claiming ownership rights to any show in the series. But perhaps that superinformation highway grinds to a halt for me on occasion, too.
Very well done, effects people! Star Trek will always be an important franchise to preserve no matter which series airs. You've done what you wanted to do, and it only added to the quality of the show - I thoroughly enjoyed it and hope my ABC affiliate doesn't do this as a "once-and-done" proposition. I wish I had my VCR set up to tape it.
"The Doomsday Machine", one of my personal favorite episodes, was the one played (it's the one about the giant planet killer which featured Commodore Decker), and all the outer space effects looked as if they came out of Star Trek: Enterprise, produced 30-plus years later. I saw updated phaser effects and a much-improved shuttlecraft launch sequence, which I always thought was poorly portrayed & laid out in its original incarnation.
The "cliffhanger" of the episode always surrounded the Enterprise transporter malfunctioning while Captain Kirk is trying to beam back aboard. With the improved effects comes another reason to raise the pulse: you really get a birds-eye view of both the shuttlecraft and the disabled starship Constellation veering so close to the planet killer, as if you are really seeing the action from Kirk & Decker's vantage points.
Modern technology has enabled older television series to improve small things like effects and musical backgrounds without destroying the plot or pacing. Yet, an unwritten rule forces me to miss the old effects, even if they are cheesy. People always say that you shouldn't mess with a classic. But I think in this morning's case, change actually is for the better. As well-preserved as the show's picture quality has become, the new scenes fit right over the old footage, as if it were designed to fit in like a glove.
I was very impressed, and also surprised that the show aired on my ABC affiliate in Detroit. I never recall ABC claiming ownership rights to any show in the series. But perhaps that superinformation highway grinds to a halt for me on occasion, too.
Very well done, effects people! Star Trek will always be an important franchise to preserve no matter which series airs. You've done what you wanted to do, and it only added to the quality of the show - I thoroughly enjoyed it and hope my ABC affiliate doesn't do this as a "once-and-done" proposition. I wish I had my VCR set up to tape it.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Over one-fourth mumbo-jumbo
It's likely that any critics of this post will mention that I turned on the television at the wrong time of day (5:00 AM in this case), but as biased a time as that may be, the point was still noted by me: Out of 65 channels in my new cable subscription package, eighteen of them were showing "Paid Programming".
It is a sad reality that these are what keep station budgets afloat, and we will never escape or turn back. A local author, Gordon Castelnero, published a very entertaining book in 2006, TV Land Detroit, which chronicle shows of a bygone era: locally produced comedies and interview shows. Dubbed the "golden age" of Detroit television, the age lasted until about 1985, when syndication went the popular route.
Castelnero notes that these paid programs make tasks easier for the local programming station, as they no longer have to budget for sets and crew to fill air time. They simply are given the tape of the infomercial and are paid by the sponsor simply to air it. Sounds like the easy way out to me.
I would understand it to a point, since the goal of local access television (which I worked on) was to end up producing those programs with volunteer staff. But in this area, those channels have been virtually silenced as well by threats of budget and department eliminations.
The advent of mainstream cable television likely demanded that these stations should be on the air twenty-four hours a day. But if the station is unwilling to air reruns of classic local fare, for example, what programming material can they rely on to fill those odd hours of the night? Hence, the informercial.
These days, storage warehouses abound in this area. I'm not one for building up an area, but if we need to have those warehouses around, why can't one of them store tapes of old shows for playback later? What budget would need to be exhausted to re-air what's already there; programs that would bring back memories for the generations my age and older?
With the classic programs, yes, they may seem a bit dated in the technology and content factor, but you see real human TV personalities whose aim at that simpler time was to entertain. Critics of TV today are correct in pointing out that the original purpose of TV, to entertain, has been lost in the shuffle, coining the phrase "idiot box". And just look at the type of people that are feeding life into that phrase: idiots who do informercials.
Also consider what else I found this morning: Four stations were playing the same Donald Trump informercial at the exact same time. And can you believe MSNBC had two more hours of paid programming scheduled after 5:00 AM? With all that is going on in the world with the war, presidential candidates declaring, and everything else, why isn't an information station MSNBC do its job (airing news & viewpoints) 24 hours a day?
Believe it or not, there are sites on YouTube which pay homage to station sign-offs during the days when 24 hour operation was not possible. When people post these clips online with a great wave of nostalgia, you know something's wrong with the 24-hour choice.
Unfortunately, cable television providers would balk at seeing eighteen channels off the air, showing only color bars and that annoying tone. They are thinking of the bottom line, which is live airtime. But when something from Ronco or ITV becomes more ingrained in an insomniac's mind than shows which strive for Nielsen ratings... there renews the "idiot box" phrase time & again.
I was without cable TV from August until yesterday... and it didn't take long to rediscover the one reason why I preferred boredom over late-night viewing.
It is a sad reality that these are what keep station budgets afloat, and we will never escape or turn back. A local author, Gordon Castelnero, published a very entertaining book in 2006, TV Land Detroit, which chronicle shows of a bygone era: locally produced comedies and interview shows. Dubbed the "golden age" of Detroit television, the age lasted until about 1985, when syndication went the popular route.
Castelnero notes that these paid programs make tasks easier for the local programming station, as they no longer have to budget for sets and crew to fill air time. They simply are given the tape of the infomercial and are paid by the sponsor simply to air it. Sounds like the easy way out to me.
I would understand it to a point, since the goal of local access television (which I worked on) was to end up producing those programs with volunteer staff. But in this area, those channels have been virtually silenced as well by threats of budget and department eliminations.
The advent of mainstream cable television likely demanded that these stations should be on the air twenty-four hours a day. But if the station is unwilling to air reruns of classic local fare, for example, what programming material can they rely on to fill those odd hours of the night? Hence, the informercial.
These days, storage warehouses abound in this area. I'm not one for building up an area, but if we need to have those warehouses around, why can't one of them store tapes of old shows for playback later? What budget would need to be exhausted to re-air what's already there; programs that would bring back memories for the generations my age and older?
With the classic programs, yes, they may seem a bit dated in the technology and content factor, but you see real human TV personalities whose aim at that simpler time was to entertain. Critics of TV today are correct in pointing out that the original purpose of TV, to entertain, has been lost in the shuffle, coining the phrase "idiot box". And just look at the type of people that are feeding life into that phrase: idiots who do informercials.
Also consider what else I found this morning: Four stations were playing the same Donald Trump informercial at the exact same time. And can you believe MSNBC had two more hours of paid programming scheduled after 5:00 AM? With all that is going on in the world with the war, presidential candidates declaring, and everything else, why isn't an information station MSNBC do its job (airing news & viewpoints) 24 hours a day?
Believe it or not, there are sites on YouTube which pay homage to station sign-offs during the days when 24 hour operation was not possible. When people post these clips online with a great wave of nostalgia, you know something's wrong with the 24-hour choice.
Unfortunately, cable television providers would balk at seeing eighteen channels off the air, showing only color bars and that annoying tone. They are thinking of the bottom line, which is live airtime. But when something from Ronco or ITV becomes more ingrained in an insomniac's mind than shows which strive for Nielsen ratings... there renews the "idiot box" phrase time & again.
I was without cable TV from August until yesterday... and it didn't take long to rediscover the one reason why I preferred boredom over late-night viewing.
Friday, February 9, 2007
Reflection: Televising Improv
Today, my thoughts went back to my most ambitious creative project that skimmed the ground briefly before running out of gas.
About the same time my sports show Four-Pro Forum was being produced at the college, I met up with a man who was a graduate of Detroit's chapter of Second City comedy club. Jerry was a specialist at improv, a comedy niche I knew something about, but not totally. What I did know was that nothing of that nature was televised before, it had only been staged.
I attempted to break through and produce a variety show, Kaveman's Korner, that would combine Jerry's comedic talents with my take on a Tonight Show / Late Show format.
It was an interesting premise as we devised the script for the first show. I expected interest to come from a lot of the students in the production classes, but either they were unsure, or scared, to see something that major being produced. No one had tried to produce a variety show of that magnitude in the small, cramped studio on campus, and I quickly found this out -- although I was willing to work around it.
"Kaveman" was perhaps the most challenging show I had come up with or worked on. I can't count the re-enactment of Annie Hall that our class did, or the remake of Pulp Fiction that I edited for my final class project. This show would be a one-hour, straight through, with previously-recorded roll-ins introducing various comedy sketches.
Those side sketches, called "wrap-arounds" in the business, were the easiest to produce, and were very naturally funny. The actual studio segments, though, were quite hard. We had to squeeze a curtained stage, interview desk, and platform for a four-piece live band into a 150-square foot area, then strike the set when finished. There was action in all corners of the studio, but as I found later, not enough lighting and not enough microphones. My friend Alan always salivated at the prospect of assisting on major productions, but even he became frustrated with the lack of mobility, and frustrating him was something that was not easy to do.
But what became the most tedious was the reaction to Jerry's material. I found out that improv does not produce the same type of pacing as regular comedy or interview spots do. On the first show, he opened with a two-minute explanation of what improv really was. To say I wasn't shaking my head to myself would be a lie, but I was hoping for the best. I didn't think for one moment I was in over my head, but I guess the lack of interest from staff members may have dictated otherwise, though I would never have admitted it.
All good comedians will tell you that audience reaction is do-or-die; they thrive off positive reaction and are encouraged to become funnier off-the-cuff if the reception is warm. We had no room for an audience, so I had to insert a laugh track in post-production. But in presenting material before the cameras, he had to rely on banter with his bandleader and nothing else. This disappointed him more than anything. I wasn't keen about shooting on location, and to make a long story short, it contributed to the premature ending of this idea and the parting of ways.
I regret all partings that happen before their time, and I do wish that I had put forth a little more effort into being more flexible. That's part of who I am as a producer: I will admit faux pas, even though they may come late. Would this be a show I would do now? I would definitely try again, given better facilities, and a better understanding of how the genre of improv works.
Apparently, improv is not at its best when staged deliberately. If the natural aura is killed, so must be the enthusiasm. I only wish I knew - it would have been a very interesting & unique pedigree on my record if it had gone through.
About the same time my sports show Four-Pro Forum was being produced at the college, I met up with a man who was a graduate of Detroit's chapter of Second City comedy club. Jerry was a specialist at improv, a comedy niche I knew something about, but not totally. What I did know was that nothing of that nature was televised before, it had only been staged.
I attempted to break through and produce a variety show, Kaveman's Korner, that would combine Jerry's comedic talents with my take on a Tonight Show / Late Show format.
It was an interesting premise as we devised the script for the first show. I expected interest to come from a lot of the students in the production classes, but either they were unsure, or scared, to see something that major being produced. No one had tried to produce a variety show of that magnitude in the small, cramped studio on campus, and I quickly found this out -- although I was willing to work around it.
"Kaveman" was perhaps the most challenging show I had come up with or worked on. I can't count the re-enactment of Annie Hall that our class did, or the remake of Pulp Fiction that I edited for my final class project. This show would be a one-hour, straight through, with previously-recorded roll-ins introducing various comedy sketches.
Those side sketches, called "wrap-arounds" in the business, were the easiest to produce, and were very naturally funny. The actual studio segments, though, were quite hard. We had to squeeze a curtained stage, interview desk, and platform for a four-piece live band into a 150-square foot area, then strike the set when finished. There was action in all corners of the studio, but as I found later, not enough lighting and not enough microphones. My friend Alan always salivated at the prospect of assisting on major productions, but even he became frustrated with the lack of mobility, and frustrating him was something that was not easy to do.
But what became the most tedious was the reaction to Jerry's material. I found out that improv does not produce the same type of pacing as regular comedy or interview spots do. On the first show, he opened with a two-minute explanation of what improv really was. To say I wasn't shaking my head to myself would be a lie, but I was hoping for the best. I didn't think for one moment I was in over my head, but I guess the lack of interest from staff members may have dictated otherwise, though I would never have admitted it.
All good comedians will tell you that audience reaction is do-or-die; they thrive off positive reaction and are encouraged to become funnier off-the-cuff if the reception is warm. We had no room for an audience, so I had to insert a laugh track in post-production. But in presenting material before the cameras, he had to rely on banter with his bandleader and nothing else. This disappointed him more than anything. I wasn't keen about shooting on location, and to make a long story short, it contributed to the premature ending of this idea and the parting of ways.
I regret all partings that happen before their time, and I do wish that I had put forth a little more effort into being more flexible. That's part of who I am as a producer: I will admit faux pas, even though they may come late. Would this be a show I would do now? I would definitely try again, given better facilities, and a better understanding of how the genre of improv works.
Apparently, improv is not at its best when staged deliberately. If the natural aura is killed, so must be the enthusiasm. I only wish I knew - it would have been a very interesting & unique pedigree on my record if it had gone through.
Thursday, February 1, 2007
Read about forward progress
On my sister blog, Through The Passive Mind Of One (which I will link to on this one), I began detailing about my job searches to resurrect my career. On January 26th, I was looking into three possible out-of-town jobs that would get me back into a career I love.
Fine time for the internet to go down, however... and with it, a recurrence of an old back injury I suffered at my current job some time ago, which won't help the search process.
The internet should be reconnected at the house by the 9th of February, at which time I will resume and expand my job search. This forum will now detail those attempts to get back to where my mind knows I need to be.
Keep reading... and keep them fingers crossed.
Fine time for the internet to go down, however... and with it, a recurrence of an old back injury I suffered at my current job some time ago, which won't help the search process.
The internet should be reconnected at the house by the 9th of February, at which time I will resume and expand my job search. This forum will now detail those attempts to get back to where my mind knows I need to be.
Keep reading... and keep them fingers crossed.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
The unassembled finale
I realized one of my more immediate goals early on in my TV production career by producing & hosting a local history show, Pages Of Time. I had thought of the idea while doing a mini-cam remote in Grosse Ile on the history of trolleys, trains, and inter-urban transportation in Michigan.
I was so engrossed by that presentation that I wondered why suburbia's history wasn't presented more often. Detroit is obviously the focal point of all documentaries, but the suburbs had a rich history as well that wasn't just all about riverfront industry. I decided to fill that hole by immersing myself into detailed research that was a pleasure to do, was well-received by many older locals, and nearly won myself a production award in doing so.
Time constraints on my part limited its run to one season only. I shot much footage for the final show, but I never ended up putting it together.
When I was active in the field, I never had anything less than 100% motivation behind my efforts. If I was lagging, I knew something was wrong. It was extremely difficult (and ultimately proved impossible) for me to gather the footage I shot to detail the history of the Wyandotte Car Company, a major toy-maker during World War II.
Part of the reason, I hate to admit, was my discomfort of dealing with a museum manager who will remain nameless here. He eyed me suspiciously throughout the taping, as though I had a motive. I had no motive, unless you count the desire to publicize history as an instance. I could not be faulted for that, and yet here I was, anxious to just pack up the camera mid-way through the shoot while saying "Thanks, anyway." My professionalism carried me through that long afternoon, although I came home wondering why I made the trek there.
Editing the piece proved impossible. The atmosphere at the taping kept getting to me. And with that, a dragged-out feeling, knowing that not everyone appreciated their history being known. For what purpose, especially from a museum curator, I have no idea. Within two months, the program idea was dead, and it was unfortunate.
What was more unfortunate was the demise of this curator. I respect him enough to not detail what happened, but I will say I wasn't too surprised when I learned of the circumstances. It wasn't out of revenge that resulted in lack of surprise, but I just nodded my head and said, "It figures."
I also figured I saved myself a giant headache -- in spite of the result being that the program itself had died. I appreciate local history as much now as before, but much more so as a casual listener & appreciator, versus a documentarian.
Some things are just better left off for others to tape.
I was so engrossed by that presentation that I wondered why suburbia's history wasn't presented more often. Detroit is obviously the focal point of all documentaries, but the suburbs had a rich history as well that wasn't just all about riverfront industry. I decided to fill that hole by immersing myself into detailed research that was a pleasure to do, was well-received by many older locals, and nearly won myself a production award in doing so.
Time constraints on my part limited its run to one season only. I shot much footage for the final show, but I never ended up putting it together.
When I was active in the field, I never had anything less than 100% motivation behind my efforts. If I was lagging, I knew something was wrong. It was extremely difficult (and ultimately proved impossible) for me to gather the footage I shot to detail the history of the Wyandotte Car Company, a major toy-maker during World War II.
Part of the reason, I hate to admit, was my discomfort of dealing with a museum manager who will remain nameless here. He eyed me suspiciously throughout the taping, as though I had a motive. I had no motive, unless you count the desire to publicize history as an instance. I could not be faulted for that, and yet here I was, anxious to just pack up the camera mid-way through the shoot while saying "Thanks, anyway." My professionalism carried me through that long afternoon, although I came home wondering why I made the trek there.
Editing the piece proved impossible. The atmosphere at the taping kept getting to me. And with that, a dragged-out feeling, knowing that not everyone appreciated their history being known. For what purpose, especially from a museum curator, I have no idea. Within two months, the program idea was dead, and it was unfortunate.
What was more unfortunate was the demise of this curator. I respect him enough to not detail what happened, but I will say I wasn't too surprised when I learned of the circumstances. It wasn't out of revenge that resulted in lack of surprise, but I just nodded my head and said, "It figures."
I also figured I saved myself a giant headache -- in spite of the result being that the program itself had died. I appreciate local history as much now as before, but much more so as a casual listener & appreciator, versus a documentarian.
Some things are just better left off for others to tape.
Saturday, January 13, 2007
When it was about teaching
YouTube has a great library of Sesame Street segments from the past, when I swore I was its number one fan. Sadly, these clips (save for a brief resurgence on the Noggin network in 2001) are ancient history and have never been appreciated by the generations growing up today.
What has Sesame Street been whittled down to today? Mindless junk segments meant only to make noise (and keep the infants awake), versus teaching something. Whoever made Elmo more than a supporting character should be barred from media altogether.
When I watched the show from ages 2-4, the emphasis was on learning letters and numbers. You would learn pronounciations, etc., on The Electric Company, but with time, you could understand the conversations the people on the street or the Muppets would have. Skits were creative, and yet simple for the youngsters to understand. Parents could watch the shows with them and appreciate the teaching tool the show provided.
Now Elmo takes 1/3rd of the show? With his third-person references, as in "Elmo wants, Elmo likes?" I was never told to say "Kevin likes, Kevin dislikes." The NBA has an image problem because so many of its athletes talk in the third person sense. Elmo may not have trained them directly to talk like that, but I'm sure the character influenced them. The emphasis is on visual humor these days, versus learning something.
How come the show still airs on PBS, which prides itself on being a teaching tool, I wonder.
I am grateful for the images YouTube does have, and reviewed some of them last week. I caught a glimpse of some commentary about this segment, which to my dying day I will credit for me learning to count to 20. There were many "far out, psychadelic, 'great' influence for the kids; what drugs were they on" comments, which caused one person to literally say: So it had some psychadelia, so what? People remember it, because the segment TAUGHT something.
How true. I'll never remember an episode of "Super Grover". But I'll remember all the things the show did teach me, and the fun ways the lessons were taught.
Call up YouTube sometime and type in "Sesame Street", looking for the old cartoons and viginettes. You'll see what I mean quite clearly.
What has Sesame Street been whittled down to today? Mindless junk segments meant only to make noise (and keep the infants awake), versus teaching something. Whoever made Elmo more than a supporting character should be barred from media altogether.
When I watched the show from ages 2-4, the emphasis was on learning letters and numbers. You would learn pronounciations, etc., on The Electric Company, but with time, you could understand the conversations the people on the street or the Muppets would have. Skits were creative, and yet simple for the youngsters to understand. Parents could watch the shows with them and appreciate the teaching tool the show provided.
Now Elmo takes 1/3rd of the show? With his third-person references, as in "Elmo wants, Elmo likes?" I was never told to say "Kevin likes, Kevin dislikes." The NBA has an image problem because so many of its athletes talk in the third person sense. Elmo may not have trained them directly to talk like that, but I'm sure the character influenced them. The emphasis is on visual humor these days, versus learning something.
How come the show still airs on PBS, which prides itself on being a teaching tool, I wonder.
I am grateful for the images YouTube does have, and reviewed some of them last week. I caught a glimpse of some commentary about this segment, which to my dying day I will credit for me learning to count to 20. There were many "far out, psychadelic, 'great' influence for the kids; what drugs were they on" comments, which caused one person to literally say: So it had some psychadelia, so what? People remember it, because the segment TAUGHT something.
How true. I'll never remember an episode of "Super Grover". But I'll remember all the things the show did teach me, and the fun ways the lessons were taught.
Call up YouTube sometime and type in "Sesame Street", looking for the old cartoons and viginettes. You'll see what I mean quite clearly.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Wrestling: Two views
This is in relation to the local wrestling show I helped produce in 1994-95, billed as Pro-Wrestling Ringside, and later, Wrestling Hot Seat.
The first point applies not only to this show, but to other shows that went "live" over the cable system. All "live" shows happened to be call-in shows, where viewers could call, comment, and contribute to the proceedings. This was a huge draw to volunteer crewpeople on shows like the previously-mentioned charade show.
But with the wrestling show in particular, I think call-ins were a downfall.
In regular network programming, it's called broadcasting; specifically, you are showing something to a general, broad audience. In local programming, though, you strived for narrowcasting, as each program was tailored for a specific, small group of people. You weren't out to please everyone. Each show was supposed to have its niche, narrow-cast, and therefore be the opposite of what television popularly was.
Narrow-casting, however, can weed out small groups of people who might be profane, as you would undoubtedly find when you are at a wrestling event. It's not just for the kids anymore, anyway. This is what we would be saddled with on any given production. We had to end up screening calls, half of which we couldn't put on the air anyway, because people thought the whole thing was a prank. They weren't shy about spouting profanities on the air, which we couldn't bleep out because a bad word could come without a moment's notice.
No current wrestling show on the air these days has unstaged, live calls. And look how rabidly popular they are with the audience they capture. I think the show could have done better, and many red faces could have been eliminated, if we had just shut the phone lines off and left the talent to do their scripted routines. Some of them were quite funny, and the calls would throw them off.
The second point is about marketing. Detroit has a rabid wrestling fan base, and many of them do go to the local events, where names WWE has never heard of headline as if they were legends. The show host was even a wrestling manager in character, and he had a line of tapes he'd sell to fans documenting past interviews & matches.
Why he never chose to market these tapes better, I'd have no idea. He spent a lot of time thumbing through matches, picking out the best, and providing additional commentary for them. They mean something to the narrow-casted few. It should have been pursued with the same rabid rawness that is the atmosphere for locally-produced matches.
One man's opinion only.
The first point applies not only to this show, but to other shows that went "live" over the cable system. All "live" shows happened to be call-in shows, where viewers could call, comment, and contribute to the proceedings. This was a huge draw to volunteer crewpeople on shows like the previously-mentioned charade show.
But with the wrestling show in particular, I think call-ins were a downfall.
In regular network programming, it's called broadcasting; specifically, you are showing something to a general, broad audience. In local programming, though, you strived for narrowcasting, as each program was tailored for a specific, small group of people. You weren't out to please everyone. Each show was supposed to have its niche, narrow-cast, and therefore be the opposite of what television popularly was.
Narrow-casting, however, can weed out small groups of people who might be profane, as you would undoubtedly find when you are at a wrestling event. It's not just for the kids anymore, anyway. This is what we would be saddled with on any given production. We had to end up screening calls, half of which we couldn't put on the air anyway, because people thought the whole thing was a prank. They weren't shy about spouting profanities on the air, which we couldn't bleep out because a bad word could come without a moment's notice.
No current wrestling show on the air these days has unstaged, live calls. And look how rabidly popular they are with the audience they capture. I think the show could have done better, and many red faces could have been eliminated, if we had just shut the phone lines off and left the talent to do their scripted routines. Some of them were quite funny, and the calls would throw them off.
The second point is about marketing. Detroit has a rabid wrestling fan base, and many of them do go to the local events, where names WWE has never heard of headline as if they were legends. The show host was even a wrestling manager in character, and he had a line of tapes he'd sell to fans documenting past interviews & matches.
Why he never chose to market these tapes better, I'd have no idea. He spent a lot of time thumbing through matches, picking out the best, and providing additional commentary for them. They mean something to the narrow-casted few. It should have been pursued with the same rabid rawness that is the atmosphere for locally-produced matches.
One man's opinion only.
Tuesday, January 2, 2007
Computerizing was tough
Happy New Year! I figured I'd finally act on an undeclared New Year's resolution and start updating this blog every eon or so.
When I think of my television career to this point, the past must be referenced, because there's really been no "present" to speak of. I took the day shift at work to try and pursue volunteer TV efforts in the area. In three months, I've been to one shoot - and the guests were both no-shows. So I often think to a happier time when I surrounded myself with the genre, and many happy times that resulted.
However, I found out I preferred older recording & playing methods barely three years into my experience. In my final year of college, computer systems were installed in the old analog video editing labs, and we were required to get a crash-course on how to use them. Initially, I thought this would take some of the fun out of the old way of editing projects, simply because the old way was the only way I knew how.
But I would never had guessed how the fun would be siphoned out: the computers themselves. The brainy idea to "go digital" was years ahead of its time, but the manufacture of the product was woefully short in planning. I prided myself in editing hour-long and half-hour-long shows. You couldn't do more than about two minutes' material before the computers would run out of memory.
This, provided they even worked at all. My friend John was the TV person at the college, with a great background and a smart television mind. But his resources were under-utilized for a semester, as he was always in the labs, cursing in trying to find a fix to where we could edit projects, while waiting the inevitable wait for new computer chips to be ordered and brought in.
That final semester required that our last three projects be edited digitally. They were edited the old-fashioned way; we had to, in order to actually have a product to show the teacher. He could not deny us our passing grades, because we had made the effort to use the computers as much as John put forth the effort trying to maintain them. I, of course, had little patience for them, and gave up on them quicker than most other people. Like a good technician should, I recognized the technical problem quickly, and devised plans to work around it.
Now I see where digital editing is the only place to go these days, and I do find myself lacking in the requisite computer skills. It wasn't because the college refused to teach it that way. It was because the idea was years ahead of its time, years ago, and we were very slow in accepting it.
Where passing grades mattered, it left forward thinkers like me no other choice.
When I think of my television career to this point, the past must be referenced, because there's really been no "present" to speak of. I took the day shift at work to try and pursue volunteer TV efforts in the area. In three months, I've been to one shoot - and the guests were both no-shows. So I often think to a happier time when I surrounded myself with the genre, and many happy times that resulted.
However, I found out I preferred older recording & playing methods barely three years into my experience. In my final year of college, computer systems were installed in the old analog video editing labs, and we were required to get a crash-course on how to use them. Initially, I thought this would take some of the fun out of the old way of editing projects, simply because the old way was the only way I knew how.
But I would never had guessed how the fun would be siphoned out: the computers themselves. The brainy idea to "go digital" was years ahead of its time, but the manufacture of the product was woefully short in planning. I prided myself in editing hour-long and half-hour-long shows. You couldn't do more than about two minutes' material before the computers would run out of memory.
This, provided they even worked at all. My friend John was the TV person at the college, with a great background and a smart television mind. But his resources were under-utilized for a semester, as he was always in the labs, cursing in trying to find a fix to where we could edit projects, while waiting the inevitable wait for new computer chips to be ordered and brought in.
That final semester required that our last three projects be edited digitally. They were edited the old-fashioned way; we had to, in order to actually have a product to show the teacher. He could not deny us our passing grades, because we had made the effort to use the computers as much as John put forth the effort trying to maintain them. I, of course, had little patience for them, and gave up on them quicker than most other people. Like a good technician should, I recognized the technical problem quickly, and devised plans to work around it.
Now I see where digital editing is the only place to go these days, and I do find myself lacking in the requisite computer skills. It wasn't because the college refused to teach it that way. It was because the idea was years ahead of its time, years ago, and we were very slow in accepting it.
Where passing grades mattered, it left forward thinkers like me no other choice.
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