Living The Dream

In coming up with a name for this blog post, I thought "As Good As It Gets?"might be appropriate, but I thought that was too pessimistic. "Living The Dream" is more fitting as it has been a dream of mine to perform music for people for a long time.

This Fourth of July I played percussion with the Greensboro Concert Band at Grimsley High School in which we played for more than two hours, including music to accompany a wonderful fireworks show. During this performance, I was thinking about what it was I was doing, how the person I most admire is doing the same thing, although on a different level, and the feelings those thoughts gave me.

Since it's release in January, 1976, Peter Frampton's best-selling album, (and the best-selling album of the year) "Frampton Comes Alive" was the catalyst in getting my dream started. When I heard that live album--especially the track, "Do You Feel Like We Do", I was hooked. Not only did I love the band's ability to rock, but they way the band connected to the audience was electric and powerfully magical for me. Every time I listened to that track, I would pick up more details of the performance and want to be on that stage with the band. Specifically, I wanted to be the drummer, keeping the steady pulse for the rest of the band to color the performance.

Through the years, I kept alive that drive to perform, but Frampton would not be the guide. A few years later, in 1980, I was listening to the radio (as I did a lot.) I heard "Tom Sawyer" by Rush, and was hooked on a new band. Peter Frampton and his band gave me the spark, but it would be drummer and lyricist, Neil Peart (pronounced, Peert), and his band who would guide me from that point on.

Everyone has someone they greatly admire, and may even like to live vicariously through. Neil Peart is that person for me. In the late 1990's, when he made an instructional drum video, he addressed those who wish to live in the limelight as a rock star, saying not to try and shoot right for the top, rather, begin by performing at the local level. I thought that was good, and if I got good enough, and got the courage to believe I could make a living at it, it would eventually work.

I have been performing at the local level since I heard Frampton's live performance and was moved to play the drums. I have performed with concert bands, orchestras, and jazz groups for the last 33 years, and I am having a blast. Ever since hearing "Do You Feel Like We Do", I have wanted to be on stage playing the drums, and entertaining the audience. Since I lacked the confidence of having the ability, and the courage to save enough money, go out, buy a set of drums, and become good enough to be in a rock band, I settled for performing at the local level, with music that has more wide appeal than my taste in rock music.

So during the performance of the fourth of July celebration, I thought about how I had set up all these percussion instruments, played them, and was getting a charge out of it, I also thought about how wonderful it was to have my idol doing the same thing at his level. He is currently on tour with his band. Still doing what they love for more than 36 years! Those warm feelings gave me a charge to make sure I was playing my best and to get the greatest satisfaction out of doing it. It didn't matter to me that I wasn't in a rock band, I was living the dream.

A Blustery Blurr

We'll see what tomorrow brings. Yeah, right. Thank you sir, may I have another!?

I knew there would be a lot of wind, but I didn't expect so much to happen. All weather outlets told us the wind  would knock over trees that had been weakened by all the water that has fallen thus far. What we got was a lot more. This pine tree fell in Lucille Piggott's Greensboro backyard, but it did not hit her house! A couple of small Dogwoods, a Pink Azalea, and her gas grill got taken out. Lucky Lucille.

This steeple on Centenary Methodist Church in Greensboro got pushed over, but didn't come down.

The sign at the Downtown Greensboro Hardee's took a hit too.

I also spent time at the PTI airport where many flights in and out of GSO were cancelled.

This sign, one of many hanging along the road outside the airport terminal advertising an upcoming skating competition got slashed by the sheer of the winds.

On my way back to the station I saw this set of traffic lights swinging in the wind at Hwy 68 and Thorndike Road. Some drivers were not sure how to handle that. A dangerous situation on a major intersection.

Then it was off to Guilford College for some basketball. The #1 3A school last year hosted the Mennonite Royals. The only team that can beat the Quakers. And tonight they did it again in a big way, by about 30 points.

So, yet another action-packed swing shift is over. I'm exhausted. For the first five hours of my shift I did not stop. I had a break for refueling me and my news assault vehicle, then it was on again.

Spin the Wheel

Tuesdays and Wednesdays my shift is called "Swing Photographer". The term is supposed to mean instead of a morning, day or night shift, you come in an hour before the night shift, and leave an hour early. Also, you never know what kind of day you will have,what kind of variety of stories you will do, or who you will meet. That pretty much goes for any other day in which I team up with a reporter. But on those days, while you still don't know what you'll do, where you'll go, or who you'll meet, you will generally end up doing one story for the day. On "swing" days, you do multiple stories.
Tuesdays and Wednesdays my shift is called "Swing Photographer". The term is supposed to mean instead of a morning, day or night shift, you come in an hour before the night shift, and leave an hour early. Also, you never know what kind of day you will have,what kind of variety of stories you will do, or who you will meet. That pretty much goes for any other day in which I team up with a reporter. But on those days, while you still don't know what you'll do, where you'll go, or who you'll meet, you will generally end up doing one story for the day. On "swing" days, you do multiple stories.
Today, I had five stories, and what a variety. It began with shooting a story with Cindy Farmer about how you can get fit at home using some things you may already have, like stairs or a weight like Cindy's using here. This story involved minimal set up on my part. I go in with Cindy, put a wireless mic on Mark, the fitness trainer, and off we go. No special lighting, not even the tripod I brought in. I just needed to find creative ways to shoot the thing. This story will air in a few days.
After I got back to the station, it was on to something completely different: they needed some exterior shots of the Allen Jay School on Allen Jay Road, next to Allen Jay conveniece store. Mr. Jay was a Quaker minister, an evangelist, and an outstanding educator, according to the school's web site. But, as it is, the Guilford School District has other plans for the mothballed building. So it was, about a minute's worth of shots, and about 20 seconds of air time.
I brought that back to the station so it could run in the 6pm show. Then it was off to Davidson County for two things: a pot hole and a commissioners meeting. WOO-HOO! Can you feel the sarcasm? This whole pot hole patrol is a community service franchise, but being early in the game, it needs some tweaking. We have people call or email us to let us know where there are any alignment shifting craters in the road. The details are, as we like to say, sketchy. For example, the one I was in search of was to be found on Swicegood Road near Hwy 150. Keep in mind I'm searching after 6pm and in the rain. You think it would be as easy as driving on the road and you'd run over it. Well every pot hole I've seen isn't much of a hole. My standard has been set in my home state of Minnesota, where the pot holes can swallow compact cars. So running over a pot hole in North Carolina barely registered. Before I found the offending cavity, I noticed the Northbound lane had all the flaws, the other side looked as if no one had driven South since Winter began. I figured this hub cap sized divot had to be the star as it was the only one of dozens that didn't have any of that gooey asphalt filling. You know, the kind that resembles Rice Krispy marshmallow treat batter. Since Swicegood Road is one of those rural two lane things, there was no place to park except someone's driveway. So I backed into one that opened straight to my target. My headlights were spotting my subject just right, and fortunately every time I set up a shot, a Northbound car would come by and hit the hole. That made for a quick exit out of that driveway.
Then it was on to Lexington proper where the Davidson County Commissioners were meeting. I would be there to find out what kind of carrot the board was to dangle in front of an anonymous company that was looking to expand. The economic development board spokesman told the board how valuable it would be to have this company in their county. The extra income and jobs it would create. Only one person spoke up during public expression, and what he said was so full of numbers and inside information, that he may have been the only person to understand what he was saying. He was the board watchdog. Every board has one.
I got back to the station with the last two items around 8:15 and opened up my lunchbox to have dinner. Shortly after that, I was called out to see what I could get on a fatal accident that happened on I-40 near Winston-Salem. In the photo, a State Highway Patrolman inspects under the hood of the truck involved. It is policy after an accident to give the vehicle a physical and inspect the driver's log book to see when and how often he drives. The accident happened an hour earlier, but sometimes these things take awhile to clean up. It was at the junction of I-40 and Highway 311. Somehow an 18-wheeler struck and killed a pedestrian. Seems like an unlikely place for a pedestrian, but since the investigating State Trooper was in the process of informing the victim's family, I could not get any other information about the accident. And, for the record, while I'm in the business of trying to be the first to report something, I do not ever want to be the first person to broadcast to a victim's family that one of their own has been killed.

Quite a mixed bag of stories. We'll see what tomorrow brings as I "swing" again.