TV...

[Ripopgodazippa]

HURRICANE JOURNALISM
> On the beach, waiting for Ivan
> Excerpts from The Handbook for Roving Hurricane Correspondents:
>
> Welcome to the exciting world of hurricane journalism!
>
> While your highly paid colleagues on the anchor desk are broadcasting from
> the dry safety of a heavily fortified television studio, you and your
> camera crew will be out in the maw of the storm, risking your lives for no
> good reason.
>
> * What you should wear: Always choose the flimsiest rain jacket available,
> to visually dramatize the effect of strong winds. All foul-weather gear
> should be brightly colored in the event you're swept out to sea or sucked
> down a drainage culvert, and someone actually goes searching for you.
>
> * What you should televise: The first rule of hurricane coverage is that
> every broadcast must begin with palm trees bending in the wind. Never mind
> that the puniest summer squall can send a coconut palm into convulsions,
> your producer will demand this meaningless shot.
>
> Once the storm begins, you can forget about swaying palm trees and
> concentrate on ficus, banyans, oaks and Austrialian pines -- the ones that
> actually go down.
>
> Fallen-tree video is absolutely essential to hurricane broadcasts. The
> most sought-after footage is, in order of ratings:
>
> 1. Big tree on strip mall.
>
> 2. Big tree on house.
>
> 3. Big tree on car.
>
> 4. Small tree on car.
>
> 5. Assorted shrubbery on car.
>
> Note: The Hurricane Broadcasters Code of Ethics forbids correspondents
> from purposely knocking down any native vegetation with a TV satellite
> truck to simulate weather damage.
>
> * Where you should go: The days before a hurricane are the most
> challenging for roving correspondents, because not much is happening.
> Needless to say, if you've got a choice between hanging out at the local
> Home Depot or cruising the beach, head immediately for the surf.
>
> When the storm finally comes ashore, always stand dangerously near the
> rough water and position yourself so that the spray hits you directly in
> the face. If it's not raining yet, take off your hood and let the wind
> mess up your hair.
>
> Remember: A wet, tired and weather-beaten appearance is crucial to your
> credibility as a hurricane journalist.
>
> * What you should say: When covering a hurricane, there's no such thing as
> overstating the obvious. And, let's face it, how many different ways can
> you say it's rainy, windy and miserable?
>
> To break the monotony, you might take a guess at how high the ''storm
> surge'' will be, even though you won't have a clue. Tedious lulls in the
> action will also offer the opportunity to ramble on about ''feeder
> bands,'' which is the slick new term for squall lines.
>
> And when the dry, well-fed anchorfolks back in the air-conditioned studio
> ask you to sum up the situation in your location, always say the
> following:
>
> ``Conditions are deteriorating, Dwight.''
>
> * Whom should you interview: As a hurricane advances, it's standard
> procedure to chat with evacuees, hotel owners, utility workers and
> disappointed tourists.
>
> The two mandatory video loops are (a) worried residents boarding up and
> (b) harried residents standing in long lines to purchase water, batteries
> and other supplies.
>
> Once the storm is imminent and the coastlines are evacuated, your
> interview possibilities will be reduced to:
>
> 1. Police and emergency personnel who are out on the streets because it's
> their job.
>
> 2. Amateur ''storm chasers'' and other wandering dolts who wish to
> experience the force of a hurricane up-close and personal.
>
> 3. Surfers.
>
> Of these, surfers are by far the most entertaining interview subjects for
> TV. Unfortunately, you could easily die trying to talk them out of the
> water.
>
> * What to do when the hurricane actually strikes: Obviously the sensible
> move is to broadcast from the protected lee of a strong building, but for
> that you could get fired.
>
> Your producer will instead order you to step into the teeth of the storm,
> where you risk being clobbered by flying glass, coconuts, shingles, patio
> furniture or surfboards.
>
> This is an act of utter derangement, but it makes for amusing television.
> If you survive, your next mission will be to find and film a major piece
> of hurricane debris -- the money shot.
>
> Remember, your viewers' expectations are high. They've watched that big
> slow mother whorling across the Doppler for a week, and they've been
> primed for devastation on a biblical scale.
>
> Take no chances. Proceed immediately to the nearest trailer park, being
> extra careful not to crash into other TV crews on the way.
>
> * What to do when the worst is over: A friendly reminder -- The Hurricane
> Broadcasters Code of Ethics strictly prohibits drinking on the air.
> However, only you and your camera crew need know what goes on in the
> privacy of the satellite truck. If anybody asks, you know what to say:
> ``Conditions are deteriorating, Dwight.''

[yzerfan]

If anyone passes that one along, it was written by Carl Hiaasen. The one responsible for a good chuckle should get proper credit.

[Ripopgodazippa]

Agreed... Good point!

[Metalman]

[Brent]