Friday, August 29, 2008
I didn't get to Invesco field because of my work schedule. The overnight reporter recaps for morning and midday news shows what happened the night before. So unless you stay up 24/7 for a week, we miss the evening events. I watched them on TV, like you, from my hotel.
That scene at Invesco was beyond words. It WAS like a concert, except that you knew people were there for more than just fun. They were looking for inspiration. Some of them found it in Obama.
The lines to get into the stadium were incredible. I was headed OUT of the area six hours before Obama was to speak and saw lines several blocks long, two and three deep, waiting for shuttle buses to take them over. It was HOT! It amazed me the sacrifices people were making to see him in action.
If you've never seen what the "media village" looks like at one of these large events... well... it's incredible. Tents, equipment, satellite trucks, platforms 2 and 3 stories high, miles and miles of cable, people everywhere, food (we're trapped for days - they have to feed us!) - a real controlled chaos.
Our media tent is in the parking lot of the Pepsi center. We call it our "workspace." It's 6,000 square feet, carpeted with astroturf and tables, phones, computers and editing equipment everywhere for us and our affiliates. You can't go anywhere without a credential, and if you don't have the right TYPE of credential, you may get stopped.
The catering tent is next door. We get four meals a day. The theory is that people are working such odd schedules, they offer meals at times so everyone can get at least one or two. The food's been great.
Now that it's over, security's pretty much gone - but there's a MASSIVE cleanup job here. My division alone filled a 58-foot trailer with equipment. Black cases are everywhere, packed and stacked on flats to head to St. Paul for hte RNC next week.
If I had to miss the first week of school, this was worth it.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
My commute's about an hour a day driving, almost two if I use public transit (which I actually prefer). It's always interesting when I visit friends in small towns, where 20 minutes is considered a REALLY long commute! I envy all the extra family time they have, getting off work at 5 and being home by 515.
I was recently in Atlanta, and for all I've heard about the horrible traffic there, we got from downtown to everywhere we wanted to go in under 30 minutes - much less in some cases. I guess it's all a matter of perspective.
Monday, August 11, 2008
- Are teens not getting breakfast, leaving them super-hungry by lunch? If so, why no breakfast? Are their families unable to afford it? Have they not been convinced of the importance of good nutrition?
- Are teens snagging a snack for later, because they don't have enough money to buy something to eat after school, or because there's nothing available between noon lunch and the end of football practice at 5:30?
- Are portion sizes appropriate for growing teens? Are we giving them skimpy meals, leaving them with growling stomachs during 5th and 6th period? Does the district need to revisit its lunch servings and perhaps shell out more to keep these 17 and 18 year olds nourished?
- Are prices too high for kids who are hungry to buy a second sandwich?
I am NOT making an excuse for stealing. It's flat out wrong. But when people are stealing food, you've gotta assume it's because they're hungry, and deal with that issue.
I've been on the hunt for a Princess backpack for my second-grader. OMG - I've been to 10 stores! There are plenty of backpacks, but they're too small or thin for the THREE INCH BINDER on my 7-year-old's school supply list! She's like a "baby tween" - old enough to need a big kid backpack -- but young enough to still want the cute (and tiny) character ones.
I finally settled on an American Princess backpack that she can pull if that huge binder gets too heavy in 3 months when it's full. Took me forever to find a once that's cute, sturdy and roomy. There's a butterfly on it - no Cinderella or Snow White - but it says princess, so I'm hoping she'll buy it.
If not, too bad - I am NOT going back out into that school shopping madness!!!
Saturday, August 09, 2008
Monday, August 04, 2008
Friday, August 01, 2008
It's all in the image.
I'm going to optimistically consider mine a "moderate" case. :)
Years ago at a seminar called "How to Improve Your On Air Look," I heard a news manager explain how excited she was when a big story broke in a remote location and only her station had a live report. Her excitement turned to horror when she saw the reporter. It was raining, and her hair was a mess. That manager's advice? Always carry a wig!! She said the reporter's bad hair day ruined the whole effort.
Crazy, huh? Welcome to my world.
Never afraid of a challenge, I'm actually looking forward to giving myself a facelift. But it made me think: how far do you go? How will I know if I've gone overboard creating the "new me?" Sure, I could lose a few pounds, get a consultant, buy a new wardrobe - and 'Hello, Success." But when I look in the mirror, who would I see?
I thought long and hard about it all and surprised myself. Turns out, I like "ME" a lot more than I realized. ME with the hair that's hard to tame. ME with the super-conservative wardrobe. ME with the jewelry that was purchased.... well, you don't wanna know!
In short, I LIKE less-than-perfect ME. I guess we've been together so long, that the thought of completely parting ways made me really sad in ways that success alone can't compensate.
So be on the lookout for "new" ME. And if you see a few hairs out of place in my new do, or a great outfit with a pair of "where did she get THOSE?" earrings, just know that's ME - the old one - just peeking out to say:
"Hi everyone - I'm still here!"'
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
In the grocery store, I heard - before I saw - number 2: whining, screaming, kicking the grocery cart. This boy looked about four and was not about to do ANYTHING remotely close to what his mother asked. His sister just sat in the cart quietly sucking her thumb, watching this war of wills.
Now understand, I'm not judging: as the mother of a 4-year-old son myself, I've certainly had those days when you want to scream in public: "No, I really DO teach my kids good behavior!!!"
Hours later, I picked up a friend's son for Vacation Bible School and was truly impressed by this 11-year old. He opened doors for me, carried my bags without being asked and engaged in interesting conversation - as charming as could be.
But it was the story he told me about his mom that put a lump in my throat.
Throughout the hour or so I spent with him, he probably mentioned 5 or 6 times how much he loved his mother. Finally he said: "Do you know WHY I love my mom? Because she plays football with me. Other mothers say 'I don't have time' or 'I don't want to mess up my hair.' But my mom always plays football with me and we have a lot of fun.'"
Wow - I'd love for my 4-year-old to turn into THAT kid! Guess I'd better figure out where the 50-yard line is.
Monday, July 28, 2008
9 months - did I have a baby, you ask? I WISH it were that simple to explain.
I stopped blogging for the same reason I started. I wanted to share my world, but I found my world was too busy. Blogging was taking away from the mom/family time I was writing about.
But this summer, my kids are out of town with grandparents, so I have newfound time. I feel both lost and free. It's like: "Yeah - I don't have to pick up toys and make dinner tonight!" And: "Wow, there's no one to pick up after or make dinner for."
So what did I do? I booked my summer with projects, trips, plans and commitments. After the fact, I think it was my subconcious way of being to busy to miss my kids!!
I've been to LA, Buffalo, South Carolina, Baltimore, and I'm organizing Vacation Bible School and the fall Spelling Bee.
And I still miss my kids!!!
There's nothing like a half-sleepy little person cuddling up for a bedtime story. Or that half-exciting, half-scary shout from downstairs: "Mommy - look what I did!"
I want them BACK!
I'll see them in three weeks. I can't wait.