That's the sound of a live truck in reverse, situating itself just right so that it can hoist a 50-ft. mast in the air with blinking lights, engine running, generator huffing and puffing, powering lights for the reporter who's putting on makeup, spritzing hair spray, setting up for the live shot... IN YOUR FRONT YARD.
It's OBNOXIOUS. Oh, believe me. I am aware.
I am never more aware than when that *oh so subtle* circus wagon pulls up and plops square in the middle of someone's tragic life crisis.
It happens all the time.
Assignment desk: "Hey E! Someone's just died/nearly died/lost a home/lost a child/suffers from a (fill in favorite fatal disease here). E, we need you LIVE from the home in an hour."
AWESOME. I'll just get on the horn and let our victims of the day know that we'll be all NEWS TEAM ASSEMBLE on their front porch, with a BEEP BEEP BEEP to remind them just how much life sucks right now.
Yesterday, it happened again.
A few tornados went to town on some neighborhoods around here, chewing up and spitting out a few homes along the way.
In our search for storm damage, we (in our big fat fatty obnoxious bright NEWS live truck) rolled up to this home.... what's left of it.
This picture gives you an idea, but my photography skills are limited. You get a better idea if you just picture a three story home, put it in a blender and then shake it out over about three miles of land.
The guy who lives here is 50 years old. This was his dream home. He lived here with his son.
This happened less than 24 hours before our live truck rolled up and was all, "Don't mind if we do" in his front yard to broadcast live for our 5 o'clock newscast.
Of course, we ask first. Please. We're not rude, just uninvited.
And surprisingly, most times, people like this poor homeowner couldn't be nicer, more welcoming, and even agree to interviews describing his heart-wrenching loss.
Maybe folks are so taken aback by our unabashed "we belong here" kind of attitude that they just assume, hey, the sky is blue, the grass is green and live trucks belong in front yards.
Whatever the reason, I guess I'd just like to use this opportunity to say Thank You. Thank you to all those folks who've resisted the urge to open fire, (God knows I would) and given a warm handshake instead. Why you do it, I have no idea. Meeting this homeowner who barely held it together during an interview was heartbreaking. Walking around his yard and finding it nearly impossible to step on kids' toys, old family photos, etc... just horrible.
I just want to say, I am aware. I am aware that as much as I try to be sensitive to what's happened, and conscious of what someone has been through, no truckload of sympathy could possibly overcome the atrocious abuse of personal space that our brutally hideous live truck brings with it.
I am aware, we may come across like asses who think they own the world, yours included. But please know, we know (Ok, I'll speak for myself), I know, we don't. If you ever wanna start throwing things or even point a gun our way because you really don't want us there, please do. Seriously. We'll take the hint and get the hell out of Dodge. (Just don't pull the trigger. We don't know any better).
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