(A little something I wrote about working in the newsroom on Christmas Eve)
‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the newsroom
We were fishing for stories, absent of doom & gloom
The reporters were preparing their pieces with care
In hopes of a looklive so they could get out of there.
The anchors reading their scripts in their best Christmas reds
While visions of spiked egg nog danced in their heads.
The assignment editor in his jeans, and the producer in his sweater
Were planning a night of leading with weather.
When out of the scanner, there arose such a clatter
They sprang from their desks to hear all the chatter
Quickly to twitter, they flew like a flash
To check for pictures of what was apparently a big crash.
The reports sounded bad, blaming it on the snow.
They looked at each other and said “Josh should go”
He and his photog grabbed their gear
And hopped into the livetruck and adjusted the mirrors.
The photog, he had a beard like St. Nick
And with his driving skills, they’d get there quick.
To Brooklyn they were headed, they’d take the Belt.
This was the fastest route to Bay Ridge everyone felt.
Down to Columbus! 66th!
The West Side Highway to the Tunnel!
Down 478 Up 278!
Check that seat buckle!
To the scene of the crash
To the scene of the crash
Just past the police lights.
Get video, get sound
For your package tonight!
The crash scene was hectic, “talk to me!” someone did cry
Perhaps they could get sound from this random guy?
Over to the eyewitness they did make their way.
A camera and a microphone to record what he had to say.
He started to talk and it became very clear
This man has had way too much beer.
His words made no sense, he started to curse
As far as MOS goes, it could not have been worse.
He wore a tight ugly sweater, and a hat like Cousin Eddie
His plump wife stood beside him donning only a teddy.
A six pack of Coors he had in a sack
And as we interviewed him, he began to knock them back.
His eyes were glazed over. His nose and cheeks rosey red.
His breath smelled like a brewery with every word he said.
His mouth dripped with drool and he slurred his speech
Every now and then he let out a screech.
He pulled out a cigarette and tucked it between his teeth.
So much smoke our crew couldn’t breathe.
His expression went blank, and he looked at his tummy.
“All the sudden,” he said “I’m starting to feel funny.”
Off to the bushes he ran to empty his belly.
There is no way we are putting this guy on the telly.
He winked his eyes, twisted his head.
Soon he let them know it was probably time for bed.
Back at the crash scene, there was a police spokesman
No serious injuries, just a couple bones were broken
A lead story this wasn't and for that all were glad
On Christmas Eve no one wants the news to be sad.
Back to the live truck they walked back together
It looked like the show would indeed lead with weather.
As they pulled back into the station the show came to an end.
That’s our newscast tonight! Thanks for tuning in!