What Do I Miss?

I ran into an old media acquaintance recently. He’s one of those for whom the idea of walking away from TV is still incomprehensible. He asked me, “So, do you miss it? I answered, “Not yet.” I started thinking about the question, as well as my response. What is it that I do not miss?
I don’t miss working the assignments desk and trying to get the people who answer the phones at various law enforcement agencies to answer simple, straightforward questions. I don’t miss calling families of soldiers who have been killed or injured and convincing them to talk to a reporter. I don’t miss chasing information on every fire alarm and 911 call that involve a gun, a knife or a pit bull.
I don’t miss trying to convince sales people that news people absolutely do not, will not and should not ever make editorial decisions based on who bought a schedule or who might buy a schedule some day. My God, the ancient conflict of sales versus news is just exhausting. Sales people don’t understand how news people think and news people are trained, taught, and expected to philosophically run like hell the other direction when the sales people start down that preposterous path they seem so hell-bent on dragging others onto.
I don’t miss the pressure of Friday night football. To be honest, that surprises me, because for a couple of decades Friday nights in the fall were the highlight of my professional life. I love going to football games. I just got to the point where trying to please everyone from DeQueen to Natchitoches and from Ruston to Longview wore me out.
I don’t miss the phone calls at 4:00am about morning show live shots or the phone calls at 11:00pm about overnight breaking news.
I don’t miss cold sandwiches at my desk which I “enjoyed” while watching the competition’s mid-day news. I don’t miss planning election coverage.
I miss what a local sportscaster used to be all about: covering games and telling stories of success, achievement and triumph. I don’t miss a lot of what local sports reporting has become: gimmicks, games, and manufactured honors. I miss standing on the sidelines at LSU games. I miss covering Dallas Cowboys games. I miss the Shreveport Captains. Since I wasn’t doing those things any more, this does not translate into missing the job.
I miss the freedom of expression that came with my radio talk show. I don’t miss making people angry because my radio persona was, by design, that of an agitator. I miss laughing hard with all of my sports media buddies at yet another lunch to talk about Demon football or Mudbugs hockey. I don’t miss competing with them on stories that are of no real consequence, like national signing day.
I don’t miss the mean-spirited culture that sometimes is cultivated in a newsroom. I do miss the collective sense of humor that develops when creative people with liberal arts degrees spend a lot of time together.
I don’t miss the unrelenting deadline pressure that comes with managing a young, eager but out-gunned staff. I don’t miss the turnover that is a direct result of having a young, eager but out-gunned staff.
I don’t miss being recognized in public, because it still happens all the time. In fact, it even happens when I’m not actually there. I got this e-mail from another long-time local TV news personality who now works in the “private sector:” Honest story. Thursday, I'm in line at Subway. The "Sandwich Artist" looks up at me and says, "Good afternoon, Mr. Rebouche, what kind of sandwich would you like today?"

18 years on TV, and they still don't know who I am? :)

I wonder if he misses it?

I don’t miss being asked how the weather will be, since I was never a weather man. Come to think of it, I don’t miss the puzzling emphasis placed on the weather reports in every single local newscast. I’ve never understood why three or four minutes of precious news time has to be dedicated to telling us it will probably rain tomorrow, and it will be about sixty degrees. It takes about thirty seconds to say that, even if you elaborate.

Speaking of elaborating, I suppose I’ve gone on a bit about all this. I guess it’s okay to be gone but not forgotten.

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