Ask any photog... you've got your good days at the office, and then you've got your snow days. That's when you get the dreaded "come in early... and bring your long underwear" phone call. Ask around... every photog in The Biz hates these days (except for perhaps a few wannabe reporter divas).
Me? I hate 'em, and I've been complaining about it for years. But when it comes down to it, it's (literally) your job, so you just gotta suck it up and brace for a 12 hour day of cutting your hands on snow chains, sliding into embankments and losing feeling in your smaller fingers.
Today was no exception, as we headed over the mountain for the annual snow survey at Lake Tahoe. This was one of those special snow stories, where you had to use snow shoes just to get to the action. I tried to make the best of it by convincing myself that usually people have to pay to go snow shoeing... but I would have much rather spent the day doing something cooler. Oh well.
So this is how you play the game: You get out. You shoot what you need. You get back in the truck. You think happy thoughts. You repeat. Not quite what I had pictured when I was a young buck in Journalism school, but I guess I'm stuck now.
So, back to the story... snow survey is shot, ski resort folks are interviewed, package is done. Everybody's happy. Day turns to night, snow continues to pound the live truck, and I wish that time could fly faster so that I didn't have to dig out the truck after our live shot. Ah yes, livin' the dream.
But to be fair, everything had gone smoothly. Our satellite shot was established, our story was edited, and we were ready to go live! I threw up a light, so that the good folks at home could see the snow, and the show began.
So the show started with the weather gal talking about the crazy storm (and how you shouldn't go out in it... always my favorite part), and then it was coming to our story. But somebody started shouting behind me, which was odd because we were on the side of a freeway in the middle of nowhere. He was not only shouting, but violently cussing. This wasn't good, as we were moments away from our live hit.
I turn to find a grizzled man in a cowboy hat, mad as all hell that our light is spilling into his yard and lighting up one of his trees. I try to quickly explain that we are about to go live and will be done within minutes... but he's having none of it. He has to get up at midnight for work (it is 5:30 PM), and if we don't turn off that light, there's gonna be problems (an abundance of expletives were removed, for our younger readers sake). I reiterated that we'd be done in moments and to just hang on, thinking we were going to be live any second. He stormed off, allowing me to grab only a brief silhouette of the beast:
So just as they come to our story, I hear the director in my ear squawking: "We lost your shot! We lost your shot!" In a panic, I run back to the truck, only to discover that our new friend had been pulling at cables, until he finally found the one connected to the light. "If you plug that motherf'ing cable back in, it's gonna be the last thing you do, you sorry piece of s___." Now, there comes a time in every journalist's life when he (or she) has to ask him (or her) self what he (she) is willing to do for his (her) job (it is exhausting being politically correct). Perhaps some are willing to take a bowie knife to the abdomen, but I decided it was time to cut my losses, especially since our story was already running without our live shot. It was a wasted evening, but at least I didn't end up in some backwoods hick's stew.
Just when you think you've seen it all... Two days later, I returned to the snow (grobble grobble) and realized that, despite it being another awful 12-hour day, at least I didn't have to deal with the Abominable Redneck, and that makes for an ok shift.
Oh, and I later found out that another crew had to deal with this guy last year, and that time he came out screaming without a shirt on. Guess I should consider myself lucky?
Surrounding this RV were minions armed with pamphlets (mightier than the sword), kindly informing people that they shouldn't bother making plans for 2012, because it ain't happening. Good thing they're telling me now, I got a lotta stuff I wanna cram in before the world ends!
They informed me that the end of the world is right around the corner, and the kick-off party is on May 21 of 2011. (At least it's not on 
So don't bother with any plans for 2012. Heck, by June I think you're gonna be plenty busy, what with the fire and brimstone and such. This stuff is so much more depressing than that 
