You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy.™
Election Night.
OBAMA V ROMNEY
Election night in the news business is like a natural disaster. It is one of those days that you just resign yourself to long hours in crowded campaign watching rooms.
If you are lucky, you are with the winners. Everyone is drunk and happy and balloons fill the hall.
If you are covering a loser, the mood more somber, more sparse, you get to hear concession speeches. Then, crickets, the hall is empty and it’s news people and hotel staff cleaning up.
Today was a strange day for me. It was like the X files. The Truth is out there.
Everyone at the station seemed to be working on an election story. The stories quite frankly were ubiquitous, predictable, and boring. They consisted of stagnant live shots featuring Long lines and no lines and lines that might be when people got off from work
I saw stories on companies that gave away donuts colored red for Republicans and blue for Democrats.
Yawn.
What election story did I cover?
None.
I covered a story of a small town police department getting a new police dog.
A police dog? It wasn’t a dog named Obama or a dog that Romney’s homework.
Just a new police dog. A nice story, but on election day? Crazy.
All the other reporters told me that I was lucky. That meant I wouldn’t have to do any late night live shots or work as long as my co-workers from some stanky campaign headquarters.
I guess that is a good thing, but it makes me wonder.
Early on, there is a need for “other stories” And that is where my new police dog story comes in.
I first heard of this while working a drug investigation.
That’s when the local police chief told me that Pittsburgh Steelers QB Ben Roethlisberger’s foundation was arranging for his department to get its first ever drug dog.
Wow, interesting.
But on election night, arguably the biggest night in this country’s history.
Obama? Romney? Pito the police dog?
Yep. I stayed late, till almost 7:30 pm.
I ate pizza with my co-workers and bitched about the apple pie having terrible crust in the break room.
I worked on other stories and cleaned out my computer and made myself look busy, but as the night progressed, and other crews were out working at Republican and National HQ’s, I was packing up to go home.
I felt like I was an illegal alien sneaking over the border.
I have been at work for almost 12 hours, but still I feel awkward, like a criminal who stole something.
My name is nowhere to be found on the election coverage sheet. I consider myself a main cog in the news wheel, but apparently not on election night.
It’s like the Country Music Awards coverage. Everyone else did a stupid music story.
Not me.
Why?
Don’t they trust me? Do they think I have turret’s or I will go crazy on Reba? Can I not be trusted to talk to Marsha Blackburn? Why is it ok for me knock any perps door who might spit on me, punch me or bust a cap in my ass? Nobody cares about that?
It’s hard to say.
So I did some housekeeping, some desk cleaning, some computer editing, that I had not had time for.
But finally enough is enough. Now I’m heading home, and it’s either 1 more day or 4 more years.
Either way, like you, I guess I will critique the coverage on tv.
Stay tuned.
I am watching abc news. Most of you feel this station like every other has a predetermined point of view, but you know what, tonight it doesn’t matter.
Blue is blue and red is red. The numbers won’t lie.
Soon we will know whether it is 1 more day or four more years.
Wednesday is another day. Crime and investigations will continue and I will do what I do.
Knock on doors and break big stories.
But tonight, I’m home watching your voice your vote and wondering if it’s something I said.
And that is crazy.™