THE MORE THINGS CHANGE

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (08-05-21)- Please remember small business in your town during this coronavirus pandemic

     This August marks my anniversary at the company I started my career with 41 years ago. I could have been a brain surgeontist, or a rocket scientologist, or a quantum physician- In America I could be anything I wanted to be. All I needed was the will to do it and hundreds of thousands of dollars in tuition costs. And a brain transplant. But instead, I've been a part of bringing you your favorite shows for over half the period of time that my television network has been in existence. When a show says, "brought to you by so-and-so," I'm actually the so-and-so they're talking about. They say it's unheard of for people to spend this many years at one company. I don't know where I heard that, but it's true I had to listen very closely. These days, employees want to leave their jobs after a short time and move on. I'd like to leave at about 2PM myself, but I guess I'll stick it out.

     In some ways working for a major television network today bears little resemblence to what it was like 41 years ago. In other respects, not much has changed. "60 Minutes" is still on the air, for instance, but back when I started you could only watch it through the "air," received on a television set through an antenna. Now only butterflies have antennas, so they can watch TV whenever they want.

     To give you an idea of how long I've been there, my first job was to sit in front of the screen for an entire eight-hour shift and write down the start and end time for each commercial, as a legal record that the spot aired as scheduled. Most people would have folded under the demands of such a job, but TV and me were made for each other. I know the words to every jingle that aired in the year 1980, and I'll sing them for you just before you hit me over the head with a ball-peen hammer. In 1981 the company discovered the VCR and I moved on down the hall. Every year or so I moved down the hall to a different position, and all of a sudden I was at the end of the hall. And that's where I've been ever since. 

     People often ask me if I'm in "production," and I usually say yes, since it's harder to describe what I actually do. My job is to help compile the Operations Schedule, an assemblage of every element that airs during the day across the broadcast network. Programs, promos, interstitials and most importantly, commercials, are all filtered through facilities that my department schedules. And when football season rolls around, I create a document that tells everyone in the building the outgoing paths for each game, and what the facilities are used for the programming that follows it. It may sound complicated, but I usually describe my work as something that a monkey could do, provided he's been in the position for 40 years or so and can type just a little bit.

     Maybe the thing that's changed the most since I started is me. Back then I was known for roaming the Broadcast Center after hours with my shoes off, and wearing my glasses askew on my nose so that I could read close up. When I walked into my first NFL meeting and the Vice President of Sports Operations took a look at the long-haired, non-corporate-looking specimen who was taking over the network switching, he looked vaguely suicidal, and then vaguely homicidal. But we soon bonded at the diner over our love of pancakes. I guess when I graduated from communications school with a degree in television, I thought I might land in an industry where I could be myself, and when they hired me they probably were hoping myself was somebody else. Maybe I only assumed I've changed because so much time has passed. After all, the new Vice President of Sports Operations refers to me as "Darth," convinced I came from the "dark side."

      I'm aware that what I do doesn't save lives or discover new galaxies. But being part of a team that brings the work of talented people to the public is good enough for me, and during a pandemic when people can't get out a whole lot, maybe a little "Price is Right" can save a life here and there. I've had a long and satisfying career, and it ain't over yet. I'm not a great fan of change, but it's the reality of my industry. In 1980, who would have guessed that the world would come this far, only to wish it was back where it was then. But then again in those days the phrase, "Do you accept cookies?" would have been just another dumb question.