Mourning with the Schwarz

This weekend I had my second encounter with the governor of the great state of California. He took some time out of his busy day to be present at the annual California Firefighters Memorial Service, which took place at the capitol.

While he didn't make any speeches during the event, Arnold sat in the front row and did an excellent job of looking important.

Flags were presented to the families of 24 firefighters who had died in the line of duty this past year, including two who died in a house fire down in San Pablo, which I covered a few months back. Sad story.

Unfortunately, Schwarzenegger has thwarted my wrath once again, as I would feel guilty to make fun of him at an event like this. Our first encounter was at the CHP Memorial Service back in May, where I was unable to mock the fact that Schwarzenegger is our governor without being riddled with guilt. You may have won round 2, but at least I never did anything as ridiculous as this:

Schwarzenegger: 2
Photocalypse: 0

High School Transpirings

Yesterday I was able to check off another "major news story genre"from my list: The School Shooting.

Obviously this isn't a topic worthy of mockery, so I'll keep it clean, but let me start off by saying that no one was hurt. Here's how it went down...

So I'm hanging out at my condo, fresh off the motocross circuit and enjoying a fine brunch with three... let's make it four... beautiful women. Out of nowhere, my manservant informs me that my work cell phone (AKA The Batphone) is ringing. After excusing myself, to the disappointment of my adoring company, I was alerted that there was a hostage situation in Oroville, a small town near Chico. Grabbing the keys to my Royce (the gold one, I only use the silver one on weekends and non-secular holidays), I sped off to work, as my photog skills were disparately needed.

Actually was sleeping when they called, at around 10:30 AM. The call interrupted a dream similar to the events stated above.

So my trusty reporter and I headed up highway 99 for a good buck fifty (one hour and thirty minutes) to find that the situation had been resolved peacefully. Which, of course, is the best possible outcome.

So I'll keep this brief in order to get to the point of my story. Boy dates girl (for two weeks). Boy loses girl. Boy gets mad, takes a .22 and heads to school looking for the boy that girl is now dating. Boy finds that other boy just happens to be absent from school that day. Boy walks into a drama class and decides to wield the gun and smoke a cigarette. Standoff ensues.

From the students we talked to, it didn't sound like he had any intention of hurting anyone. He actually told them that anybody who was scared could leave, but for some reason only about half the students (and the teacher!!!) left. Once the cops arrived, he got scared and shot the wall a few times, but was eventually talked out by a negotiator.

I could go on about our experience interviewing high school girls (remember how often people said "like" in high school? Well things have gotten substantially worse), but because you and I are both very busy and important, I'll cut to the chase...

So I'm at the sat truck, waiting around while my reporter writes the story, when this guy from the school (I'm not sure exactly what his position was) calls me over, looking very serious and upset. He started to explain to me that he was not pleased with the way we were covering the story (even though he had no idea how we had covered it, as it had not yet been fully covered). He started grilling me...

Guy: "Why was it that no one was harmed today?"
Me: "Well, the principal told us that the plan for events like this went perfectly and fortunately no one was harmed."
Guy: "No no, I mean how was it that everyone got away from this safely?"
Me: "Um, well we spoke to some of the hostages and they said that the boy didn't really want to hurt anyone, and that the hostage negotiator was able to talk him into coming out."
Guy: "You're completely missing the point! That's what's wrong with you media folk. The reason that this ended the way it did was because of prayer. Everyone prayed for this result, and that's why it came to be. But you guys never bother to mention that, now do you?"

Rather than fire back with a number of defensive counterarguments (e.g. why didn't anyone try that at the other school shootings that didn't end peacefully?) I thanked him for his input and reminded him to watch the new season of Bones, Wednesdays at 9:00. Well, the Bones part isn't true, but it would have been sweet.

So after a good ol' fashioned 12 hour workday, I was once again left befuddled. After last week's encounter with a religious nut and my life altering dance with a little periodical known as Awake! I have to say that I am unsure where to go from here.

Guess I should quit listening to that rap music while playing violent video games and drinking Mountain Dew. Meh, I'll quit next week.

The Violated Domicile

Yesterday I came across one of the stranger stories I've covered. It was a strange story to begin with, but with each new development, the strange level continued to rise until we reached a level of strangitude that was dangerous to comprehend. It's like one of those things you'd see in a movie or a crappy reality TV show that would lead you to declare, "That could never be real!" After today, I wish I could still believe that.

We were sent to a small town about an hour outside of the city. A quaint suburb where everybody knows everybody and the weather is foretold by an old man in a rocking chair. The peace and quiet that the town has come to know as its own was ravaged early in the morning by the dastardly acts of a clan of vile miscreants.

Along a neighborhood block that stretched a fair distance, one single house was subjected to the wrath of Hell itself. The residents who dwelt within were horrified to discover that their humble abode had been violated several times over. Painted and carved into their house (and boat) were countless vile expressions, including the words "bitch", "fuck" and "dike porn".

According to the residents, this atrocious act was preformed by an evil neighbor, who recruited innocent neighborhood kids to do her ungodly bidding. These minions of the night wreaked havoc on their residence, and were caught doing so by the family's security camera .

While the residents were unable to figure out how to show us the video on their computer, they assured us that it clearly displayed the neighbor's dastardly actions. The neighbor was arrested, along with several neighborhood kids, and was released on bail later that day.

While obtaining footage of the neighbor's house, they just happened to arrive home, fresh from the Big House, and not too pleased to see the good people of the local media outside their home.

After speaking with them about why we were there, they informed us that it was not them who were the deviants, but those living within the defiled house. And they could prove it... because they have a security camera pointed at their house as well!

They showed us several videos displaying the neighbors screaming profanities at neighborhood kids, passers-by and each other. Perhaps this vandalism wasn't simply a random act of satanism preformed by misguided riffraff, as the victims had claimed.

For further information, we were sent down the street to speak to the mother of one of the kids who was arrested as well. We had been told that she was very upset over what her son had done and was very explicit about wanting to express her remorse for his actions. From a sleuth's point of view, this sounded highly promising. However, I was unable to prepare myself for the wild turn that this story was about to take.

As we approached the home, we were greeted by a cryptic and mysterious message:

Wow, this is getting nuts.

So we go to the door and are greeted by an elderly lady in a wheelchair. As she wept, she told us that she'd be happy to explain what happened, but that we wouldn't want to report it. We pressed her to continue, and heard the following as she hid behind her door:

"We are weeping for our eternal souls. The devil has come into our home and possessed our son to do terrible things."

She then shut the door and left us with our mouths agape.

At this point, we decided that we had delved deep enough into this bizarre community. With nearly an hour's worth of footage and interviews, we returned to the station, ready to craft our journalistic masterpiece.

There was just one underlying issue... Remember the vandalism? That little nugget that set off this frightening chain of events? Well we were never able to get our hands on the security camera footage. For this reason, our epic journey into the fog of mystery (and quite possibly the discovery of some sort of cross-dimensional portal) was downgraded from a package in the top of the show to a brief vo/sot in the third block.

Our efforts never led to any conclusive answer to the Mystery of the Defiled House. Who really vandalized this home? Was it vengeful teenagers? Jealous neighbors? Hellspawn? I returned the next day to investigate further, only to discover that the bizarre town had vanished completely.

Not really. But I wouldn't have been surprised if it had.

What a town.

Behind the Scenes: The Musical

For everything that gets aired on television news, there is a whole heck of a lot going on that never gets seen... at least not by many people. It is important to realize that any time you're in front of a camera, there is a possibility that someone is watching/recording it for any number of reasons (including exploitative).

A while back, I had a lot of free time in the evenings at work, which I liked to use in a semi-productive fashion. In addition to building a highly skilled team of nightside production assistants to aide me in my projects...

...I slapped together a few musical compilations of what goes on during live shots when they aren't live on the air. Enjoy!

Fun With Local Commercials

A few years back, during my college days as a wannabe newsie, I worked as an intern for a production company. This primarily consisted of me acting as a grip on various local commercial shoots. Out of this experience, there was one point of knowledge I picked up that still rings true today: Local commercials are hilarious.

While digging through my archives, I ran across this gem, a localized version of a McDonald's commercial. In all fairness, it's not a terrible commercial, but there's one part that shall forever live in my memory as being awesome.

Towards the end, there were two lines that needed to be said:

EMPLOYEE 1: It's Track Town USA baby, and McDonald's is proud to support the Ducks' track team.
EMPLOYEE 2: The Ducks are fast, just like the service you'll receive at every local McDonald's restaurant.

No problem.

Or at least there shouldn't have been a problem. However, Employee 1 couldn't memorize her lines and failed to produce a convincing "Track Town USA baby!" She eventually blurted it out, but that wasn't the real problem.

Employee 2, we soon realized, didn't speak much English and had a very thick accent. The solution? Split the line up and bring in Employee 3. Problem solved... except that Employee 3 had an even thicker accent than 2. At this point, the production crew didn't seem to care much anymore, so we went with it.

Here is the final version:

Also, there was one point where the photographer asked an old man to go around so he wouldn't trip on the power cords for the lights. His response? "You, sir, are an asshole. I know where the goddamn counter is!"

Awesome.

Awake!ned

Life comes at you in strange ways. Despite your best efforts to plan it out step by step, there always seems to be a rock that causes you to stumble off that path and onto a new one. These rocks often cannot be foreseen, for they are small and colored like the ground. Also there are many. Plus they're hard to avoid, because you want to see the scenery on the path, and that girl you brought with you won't stop talking about her day. Anyway, what I'm getting at is that something you didn't see coming can change the way you see yourself. Just such an event occurred earlier this evening.

So I was doing my laundry, and I had everything timed out perfectly. 45 minutes for the dryer cycle to complete. I check the time, return 45 minutes later, and find that there are still 12 minutes remaining. Thus, I was left with a hefty conundrum: do I walk all the way back to my apartment, wait a few minutes, then walk back, or kill the time in the laundry room and keep the unburned calories as my own? I decided to wait it out, and while searching for a distraction, I came across this:

It was a small periodical entitled "Awake!" Seeing as how I was "awake" at the time, I figured it was a magazine that I'd be able to relate to. Upon closer inspection, I found that it was a publication of the good people at Watchtower Bible and Tract Society, a publishing company run by those friendly young men with suits and bicycles, who call themselves Jehovah's Witnesses ("But in the Latin alphabet... Jehovah begins with an 'I'!" (Crusade, 1:52). Well, they seem like happy folk, so let's see what this business is all about.

"Television: How Does It Influence Your Life?" the headline asked, to which I replied "Probably about as much as Jehovah's Whitness' pamphlets have!" only to realize I was alone in the laundry room. A shame, I thought, because that was a mighty zinger.

In addition to the TV-related insight into my life, it posed many other ominous queries, including:

Oh man, I was ready to find out.

First I hit up the main article, titled TV: A Thief of Time?

So apparently I have been watching too much television. I really don't watch that much, but according to the article it's still more than I should be, for you see, as King Solomon wrote, "The Eating of too much honey is not good" (Proverbs 25:27). "The same principle applies to TV viewing. Heavy viewing can cut into family time and hinder reading and academic performance," much like the gluttonous consumption of vast quantities of honey. Did you ever see Winnie the Pooh with a family or a book? Didn't think so.

So I'm pretty bummed at this point... I gotta cut back on TV and honey. It goes on to explain that I'm even worse off because of the types of shows that I watch. "They rely on fights, killings, special effects, and sex to hold the attention of the viewer." And you know what? It's true. I watch way too many shows with violence, sex and special effects (sometimes all in the same scene!), and it's starting to corrupt my fragile mind.

But wait! I know what you're thinking, because I was thinking the same thing, and this magazine saw it coming... What about sex and violence in the Bible? Why, "References to sex and violence in the Bible are written to instruct, not to entertain." That makes sense. So I can watch sex and/or violence, so long as it is in an instructional format. And I always thought those videos would get me in trouble with these people.

So how does TV influence my life? The article was fairly inconclusive, but it did a good job at making me feel bad for wasting my time laughing at Sanford and Son or crying about all the people that Oprah has helped. Is watching House a sin? According to this magazine: maybe. Better play it safe and steer clear of ever watching it.

In addition to this life-altering revelation, "Awake!" also led me to believe that Halloween is evil and should be avoided at all costs...

...and that I may have an eating disorder...

Guess I'll have to cancel my plan for this year's Halloween costume- a bulimic Optimus Prime (he spews circuit breakers! Hilarious!). Thanks for the eye-openers, "Awake!"!

To complete the story, my laundry was folded without further incident.

Jumping Off Stuff

Working a job that allows you Monday and Tuesday as your days off, times can get a little slow. Pretty much everyone else is working during the day, which is great if you need to go to the grocery store but kinda dull if you don't. The solution? One of our talented reporters and I decided to spend our day in search of adventure. What's the best way to find a quick adrenalin rush? Jump off something!

With that goal in mind, Michelle and I traveled to the town of Lodi, made famous by Creedence as a place you don't want to get stuck in.

We found ourselves a fine little establishment known as the Parachute Center. 13,000 feet above farmland and smoke from nearby forest fires, the adventure began.

An excellent way to spend a Tuesday afternoon. However this wasn't the first time I'd jumped off stuff. Back in my younger days as an adventurer, I jumped off various things. During a brief stint in New Zealand I occupied my time with a 15,000 ft skydive at sunset and a 440 ft bungie jump over a canyon:

Nothin beats jumping off stuff.

Mehlhaf's Last Ride

Last week we lost one of our famed reporters. Nina is returning to the motherland of Oregon to show the city of Bend what real news is all about. A fellow Oregon alumn and former KEZI intern, her presence will be missed, as Jordan and I will be left alone to fend for the Ducks' honor. A few drinks were had in her name before she took off. Good luck, 'Haf!

Oh, and she was kind enough to call into work today, just to make sure that we were all watching the Ducks tear apart Michigan. Awesome.

Rollin' With the CHiPs

For today's adventure, I rode shotgun with the only law enforcement agency in the world that was made famous by a hokey 70's TV series- the CHP!

Rather than ride on two motorcycles in the same lane, as was common in the television show, we traveled up and down I-5 in your standard police cruiser. Our tour guide for the day? A friendly gent named Officer Watt, seen here holding an imaginary teacup:

The mission? Protect the highways (and freeways) from those who have partied too hard in celebration of labor on this holiday weekend (and those who don't signal when switching lanes. I mean, c'mon... why can't you morons figure this out?) Lots of traveling, lots of trouble to be had.

The adventure started by pulling over... someone who wasn't wearing a seatbelt! BUSTED!

Seriously, why don't people wear seatbelts? You get in the car, you put on the seatbelt. Why wouldn't you? What do you have to gain by not wearing it? Mobility? 90% of the time that I'm sent to a fatal car accident, it involves people who weren't wearing seatbelts, and it really isn't a pretty sight. Do you think you'll be thrown clear from the wreckage? I actually heard someone tell me that once. Well I can assure you, you don't want to be thrown through a windshield at 80 mph. Wear your seatbelt, dumbass. TICKET!

Following this atrocious act, we came across... a speeder! BUSTED!!

In addition to traveling above the designated speed limit, he was driving on a suspended license. That's not going to bode well with the good folks at the auto insurance company. However, he was kind enough to give us an interview as he waited for his citations, and since he cooperated with the officer he didn't get his car impounded, so I can't rag on the guy too much. Plus most people drive faster than he was going anyway. Despite that fact... TICKET!!

Our final encounter involved... another speeder! Oooh... BUSTED!!!

Yeah, nothing too exciting here either. She was only going around 80, and cooperated with the officer. No Cops-style shootouts or beatdowns today, just some normal folk who weren't thinking about the consequences of their actions.

At the end of the day, the roads were a little safer and we managed to get this troublemaker off the street:

(That's our reporter, in case you don't know.)

Just another day in the life of the California Highway Patrol!!