I am not responsible for pre-sliced proteins being put in comprimising positions.

If you, as a young woman, found a note in the box outside your office door that contained only a man's name and phone number (written with my dry erase marker, on paper instead of the board provided for leaving messages when I am away from my office, which RUINED the prettiest color green marker, jerk) would you call it? No explanation, not a name I recognized, not even a name I've ever heard before and only barely legible. No thank you.



So I didnt' call.



Then, maybe a week later, I get a message on my voicemail; "this is" we'll call him "Devo, and my phone number is...". That was it. So really, it was the voicemail version of the nearly creepy note that ruined my favorite dry erase marker, left by a man with the wobbliness that could be old age or the breathlesness of a heavy smoker or a fat man ordering a creamsicle from the man with the ice cream push cart because the bell drew him away from the exercise he was supposed to be getting.



So I didn't call back.





About a week after that incident, I recieved an e-mail from a girl who works down the hall from me. Now, it's important to point out, she doesn't work for the tv station, she works for a small private video production company (you know... wedding videos, local commercials, etc) that is located in the same building. Not a fact that is TOTALLY evident, as it's just the one room, but they do have a sign, etc. and I cant believe that they wouldn't disabuse one of any notions that they are part of the station. So the e-mail tells me that someone from a local non-profit brought them a documentary about the a local river and asked them to produce a small promo for a fund raiser they had coming up for a non-profit that protects local wild game and attach it to the beginning of the movie, and could I play it on the public access station.



All very normal, but we do have a few rules... I mean, when you're going to promote the First Amendment and Free Speach, you also want to make sure that it is the people taking advantage of that, and not the station, who is legally responsible for how they choose to use it.

For instance, when I get a call complaining about a show where they throw cheap lunch meat and pre-sliced american cheese at a woman with her pants down and her shirt pulled up, who then turned around a pulled a piece of said cheese from a place that cheese doesn't belong undigested, (which happened) I want to be able to say with all confidence that no, the station is not responsible for that content. In fact, the person who chose to use their right to freedom of expression in such a manner filled out mulitple pieces of paper work to that effect, and included a disclaimer at the beginning of the show, back just before the sketch of filming eachother doing their business through the bathroom window, that said as much, and any comments could be directed to that person.

I DO NOT want to be responsible for pre-sliced protiens being put in comprimising positions.

So anyone who would like to air anything on our station must fill out the same paperwork as the producer with the toilet humor fixation. And before they fill out that paperwork they need to know what it is and why they're filling it out, and before they can even qualify to fill out the paper work they need to prove that they are a resident of our county, and the list goes on and on. They take a long time to explain, but our requirements for airing are few, and are easy, and none of them had been met.



So I responded to the e-mail of the girl down the hall who doesn't actually work at the tv station with what I needed to be able to air the show, and she did her best to fulfill all of our requirements. (I cant help but add that she seems to the casual observer to be in a situation much like my own... cowerkers the age of her parents who give her all the most 'glamerous' tasks rather than having to do anything but the fun stuff themselves)



Needless to say the movie was given to them by "Devo", who I assume never has figured out that their small production company has nothing to do withour PEG access television organization. He comes from a fairly affluent area, perhaps the concept of people having to share rent costs is new. So I got Devo's contact information again, much to my dismay, and this time,

I did call.

I explained that we cannot include mention of price (which was a part of the promo he had tacked on) in any airing on our station as that is considered 'commercial' even if it's for a non profit. That someone who actually resides in our county (which he did not) must turn in the piece, that they must have previously attended a community orientation (which he had not, or he would have known all of this, which is the whole point of the rule), that they must fill out two specific forms, and that it takes approximately 10 business days from when they have turned it in, following all of those rules, to air it on the station (he wanted it aired immediately).

D: "oh but the girl down the hall is the one who made the part with the price in it"

L: "well the girl down the hall does not work for the television station"

D: "but she said it would be fine and you would air it"

L: "she is not intimately aware of our policies and procedures"

D: "but but but"

L: "dont call me a butt!" Just kidding, but that would have been fun, really more like: "no no no"

you get the idea.



Needless to say what I was telling him was not what he was wanting to hear. So instead of following my advice and doing the few very simple things he needed to do for me to air his documentary, he proceded to dial every extension in the building and try them instead. He of course started each conversation by saying that I didn't call and didn't answer his questions. So several members of the staff were lied to and misinformed about what happened and came to complain and chide, only to realize they had been lied to and misinformed. He proceeded to do this every day for about a week, but never called me again.



So finally my boss decides it's a non-profit and we need to play the piece... I explained to him all of the varieties of ways that Devo was not following our simple rules (which anyone close to my own age, I might add, would be held to quite strictly, and have their validity questioned every step of the way) and he still decided that we "must" play the piece.

To my great dissapointment.

I was rather enjoying watching it sit on my desk and collect dust until he worked up the courage to talk to me again, and follow the simple rules.

So in the end, crotchetiness won out, in my opinion based on age and an unwillingness to stop pestering everyone but the right person.



One thing I've learned, anyone who's rude, mean and bullying to the executive director (espescially if they manage to do it in person) gets all the rules bent and broken to suit them until they get exactly what they want for nothing... while those who come in with a willingness to follow all of the rules, talk to all the right people instead of going to him for a new answer, and do their best to make something they can really be proud of, get a big explosion in the face at even the hint of a mistake (often when no mistake has been made) or special request if he just kind of gets wind of it... like if he's walking down the hall and overhears a part of a conversation out of context and then feels the need to butt in and question everyone and everything about the situation.



Perhaps I can learn to be a bully and get a raise....

The "bars and tone", as it were, of life in public access.

Working in television hasn't turned out to be nearly as exciting as one would expect.
Mostly I sit in front of a computer monitor.

Oh it has it's moments... no speeding to cover fires, earthquakes, national disasters, scandals in public office, and the occasional cat fashion show as a young person at a commercial tv station might; I have the joys of interacting on a daily basis with those that believe people want to watch them, or what they create, on television.

At this very moment I can hear the Lord's Prayer being chanted in a room up the hall called the "ready set" (a room which, despite the very tempting sign, has never been defaced with the obvious "go") by a German man who strongly resembles a Russian nesting doll, the host of a show sponsored by the local Republican Party with emmaculate snow white hair, and whoever this weeks guests are.

Any minute now a jokingly condescending man will come in and spend 45 minutes to an hour whistling, strutting importantly around our studio and control room before his live show with his pants belted somewhere near his third rib. He probably wont do any of the actual technical directing, he generally snares high school students who are impressed by the many monitors, blinking lights, vcrs, and a sound board that never gets used in the studio control room to do that for him; that way he can walk around talking in a too loud voice to todays guests and playing producer without the hassel of doing the work.
He'll crack a few jokes that aren't funny, possibly make a derogetory statement about women, question my ability to do my job, and then wander back across the hall.

I'll try to slip out the back doors shortly after his show starts to avoid a few eccentrics who would keep me snared in conversations on local politics, events, and the production of their shows for at least another half hour... but never in time to escape the shows intro music, an excerpt from "Funky Town".
So I'll probably spend the first 30 minutes to an hour of my evening wanting to "talk about, talk about, talk about moo-oo-ving" despite my best efforts not to.


That about sums up my average afternoon, but it's the extraordinary days that inspired me to start this blog. You never know when a young man is going to run screaming into my office in a jockstrap, gas mask, and cowboy hat with camera man in tow to startle me for his latest episode (yes, that has absolutely happened... twice), or the next time that the guys fromt he weekend creature feature are going to film giving eachother swirlies in the buildings mens room, which i imagine as HIGHLY unsanitary, with enough screaming and giggling to frighten the older ladies across the hallway (that happened on Friday)... but from now on, I'll keep you posted.