Don Imus is now the go-to morning guy of Fox Business Network, so it looks like my star turn as an early morning TV retail analyst has been short-circuited.
Earlier this month “Imus in the Morning” started simulcasting its syndicated radio program on the small but growing Fox Business Network. Imus replaced the “Money for Breakfast” show anchored by Alexis Glick.
Two months ago, on August 19, I made my FBN debut, talking about BJ’s Wholesale Club and its main competitors, Costco and Sam’s. Here’s a link, for those inclined to view it: http://video.foxbusiness.com/8375034/bjs-sees-6-drop-in-july-same-store-sales/?category_id=1292d14d0e3afdcf0b31500afefb92724c08f046.
Appearing on one of the morning talk shows, if my FBN experience can be considered instructional, is more anticipatory than actually rewarding. In exchange for a few, very brief moments of on-camera fame, you spend about 18 hours fraught with tension that you’ll screw up. When they call to secure your availability (I turned them down twice before because of schedule conflicts), it’s always at the last moment, usually the afternoon before the actual broadcast.
Since I no longer worked in Manhattan, they sent a limo to shuttle me back and forth. The driver showed up at 6:30 am. We arrived at the News Corp. building at 47th Street and 6th Avenue by 7:10, sufficiently early to get some powder on my shiny face and to visit the powder room before air time, scheduled for 7:45. I'd be in the New York studio with the anchor and her associate, while the other segment guest would be in Minneapolis.
As anyone who has seen morning talk shows knows, keeping a fast pace is paramount to retaining viewer interest, even if it means abandoning a subject before anything meaningful is said. Segments usually are limited to under five minutes. There's little need to worry you'll be pitched a question out of left field. The show's booking producer had reviewed potential questions with me the day before.
What you do have to worry about is getting sufficient camera time, since there's no tactful way to cut off "Minneapolis Mike" (his name was actually Dan), and that is indeed what happened. He talked. And talked. And talked. At least that's what I felt during the four and a half minute segment. For my part, I tried to keep my answers short and to the point.
If you've ever wondered how they achieve different looks on the set, here's how they did it on Fox Business Network: the anchor sat at a central desk positioned on a rotating core. She'd be swiveled around to change the background for each segment. Off to one side was a platform where they literally tossed together pieces of an orange sectional couch. I sat on one of the sections, the sub-anchor interviewer on the other. The couch was rather deep. To avoid slouching, I had to prop a pillow behind my back.
There's no warm-up chatter. You wait in the wings listening to the prior interview. During the commercial break the couch is set up, they ask how your name is pronounced, you wince privately when they mangle it live on camera, and before you're able to sweat the interview is complete and ready to be downloaded for friends and family to see, because most of your friends and family don't get Fox Business Network from their cable providers.
FBN's limited exposure may change now that Imus is the morning man. I doubt it would have changed for the better had I been brought back for an encore.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Technically Speaking
Being technically challenged, I have yet to figure out how to alert my loyal readers (and believe it or not there are some of you out there who could be classified as loyal readers) about new blog postings.
But there is a way for me to alert you to any new postings. If you send me your email address I will send you an alert each time a new entry is posted. It may be presumptuous of me to assume anyone would want to be so alerted, but if you are so inclined, let me know. My email address is mforseter@gmail.com.
Not all of my technical sleuthing has been for naught. I have been able to make it easier for you to log on, assuming you have not already bookmarked my page. Now you can reach my musings simply by typing nosocksneededanymore.com. No longer must you include “.blogspot” before the .com. You can if you want to, but through the wizardry of technology I don’t pretend to understand, you no longer have to.
But there is a way for me to alert you to any new postings. If you send me your email address I will send you an alert each time a new entry is posted. It may be presumptuous of me to assume anyone would want to be so alerted, but if you are so inclined, let me know. My email address is mforseter@gmail.com.
Not all of my technical sleuthing has been for naught. I have been able to make it easier for you to log on, assuming you have not already bookmarked my page. Now you can reach my musings simply by typing nosocksneededanymore.com. No longer must you include “.blogspot” before the .com. You can if you want to, but through the wizardry of technology I don’t pretend to understand, you no longer have to.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Living and Dying the NRA Way
Watching today's CBS Sunday Morning special edition broadcast dedicated to one subject, how our overweight society is endangering lives while affecting our culture and economic vitality, I couldn't help but notice that in a segment centered on food prepared outside the home, the defender of large portions, portions often laced with too much salt, sugar and fat, was the chairman of the NRA.
"If we're not responding to our customers, we won't be in business very long," said Michael Gibbons.
In other words, it's not guns that are evil. It's the people who use them irresponsibly.
Oops, wrong lobbying group. Gibbons is from the National Restaurant Association, not the National Rifle Association.
But how ironic that the group that has supersized America through humongous fast food and sit-down restaurant portions shares the same initials with the lobbying organization that sees nothing wrong EVER when guns are used to assault and kill innocents.
We are our own worst enemies. Either we kill ourselves quickly and explosively the NRA way, or we slow cook our way to death, the NRA way.
"If we're not responding to our customers, we won't be in business very long," said Michael Gibbons.
In other words, it's not guns that are evil. It's the people who use them irresponsibly.
Oops, wrong lobbying group. Gibbons is from the National Restaurant Association, not the National Rifle Association.
But how ironic that the group that has supersized America through humongous fast food and sit-down restaurant portions shares the same initials with the lobbying organization that sees nothing wrong EVER when guns are used to assault and kill innocents.
We are our own worst enemies. Either we kill ourselves quickly and explosively the NRA way, or we slow cook our way to death, the NRA way.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Who's in Control
As the days trickle by with no word from Cleveland, I’m not sure how I feel.
No, that’s not true. I feel disappointed. It’s not that I desperately wanted this job. No, it’s that I wanted to be in control.
Not being desperate for a job changes the dynamics of a job application. Control would seem to shift to the candidate who can just as easily walk away from an offer as take one for a position that is less than optimal. When you’re unemployed or desperate to leave a current spot, anything may look tempting. When you can be discerning, you have the power.
So it has been with my consideration of a three-month assignment in Cleveland. More than wanting the job, I’ve wanted the power of being in command, the aphrodisiac of knowing they wanted me, that the decision would be mine, not theirs.
The more I reflect on the experience the more I have come to understand that getting the temporary job offer would be affirmation that I am still important, that I beat out the competition (and I am an extremely competitive person).
I wasn’t desperate going into the interview. But I do admit, I want the satisfaction of knowing I’m still wanted.
No, that’s not true. I feel disappointed. It’s not that I desperately wanted this job. No, it’s that I wanted to be in control.
Not being desperate for a job changes the dynamics of a job application. Control would seem to shift to the candidate who can just as easily walk away from an offer as take one for a position that is less than optimal. When you’re unemployed or desperate to leave a current spot, anything may look tempting. When you can be discerning, you have the power.
So it has been with my consideration of a three-month assignment in Cleveland. More than wanting the job, I’ve wanted the power of being in command, the aphrodisiac of knowing they wanted me, that the decision would be mine, not theirs.
The more I reflect on the experience the more I have come to understand that getting the temporary job offer would be affirmation that I am still important, that I beat out the competition (and I am an extremely competitive person).
I wasn’t desperate going into the interview. But I do admit, I want the satisfaction of knowing I’m still wanted.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Yankees Time
I’ve been watching Yankees post-season exploits since the middle 1950s. I can safely say that it’s a lot easier watching the Yankees pursue another championship in retirement, with no school or job to rush home from, or to wake up early for. Games can be watched guilt-free, without a care as to when they start or finish.
The only drawback, aside from when they lose a game or heaven forbid, a series, is that there’s no one around to talk with the next day about the game. Gilda tries to display interest while the game is on, but often she’s asleep before it is over. Yes, I could reach out and call friends to bond over superlative performances or strategies gone astray, or blown calls by umpires, and sometimes I do, but it’s not the same as a face-to-face rehash of the highlights and lowlights of a game.
That’s the thing with retirement, forced or chosen. You miss the physical social interaction with others. For someone who follows sports, or new movies or plays, or anything that is public, like a presidential press conference or a captivating news story, being alone all day is challenging. When I worked, I rarely spent more than 30 or 40 minutes at a given task before requiring a break, a walkabout to gossip with staff or other associates.
This is not about home-alone loneliness. You can be working in a company and lonely just as easily as when you’re home alone. Yes, there are days that run longer than others. But they are thankfully few and far between. As long as the Yankees keep winning, excitement runs high. And when the season is finally over, the championship is won (eternal optimist that I am), there's always the rest of the football and hockey seasons to keep me occupied until next spring's baseball begins anew.
The only drawback, aside from when they lose a game or heaven forbid, a series, is that there’s no one around to talk with the next day about the game. Gilda tries to display interest while the game is on, but often she’s asleep before it is over. Yes, I could reach out and call friends to bond over superlative performances or strategies gone astray, or blown calls by umpires, and sometimes I do, but it’s not the same as a face-to-face rehash of the highlights and lowlights of a game.
That’s the thing with retirement, forced or chosen. You miss the physical social interaction with others. For someone who follows sports, or new movies or plays, or anything that is public, like a presidential press conference or a captivating news story, being alone all day is challenging. When I worked, I rarely spent more than 30 or 40 minutes at a given task before requiring a break, a walkabout to gossip with staff or other associates.
This is not about home-alone loneliness. You can be working in a company and lonely just as easily as when you’re home alone. Yes, there are days that run longer than others. But they are thankfully few and far between. As long as the Yankees keep winning, excitement runs high. And when the season is finally over, the championship is won (eternal optimist that I am), there's always the rest of the football and hockey seasons to keep me occupied until next spring's baseball begins anew.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
The Book Is Better
Just got back from seeing “Where the Wild Things Are.” It is most definitely not like the children’s book, at least not for the same age children for which Maurice Sendak’s classic has been a mainstay.
It’s a dark and foreboding movie. It would be difficult for almost any child under 10 to come away without an almost overwhelming feeling of despair. Sure, Max does return home to his mother at the end of the movie, but that alone is not enough to blot out the depressing themes of loneliness and anxiety that permeate the movie.
Don’t misunderstand. Though it did drag on at times, it is a good movie. Good, not great. Just not for young children.
It’s a dark and foreboding movie. It would be difficult for almost any child under 10 to come away without an almost overwhelming feeling of despair. Sure, Max does return home to his mother at the end of the movie, but that alone is not enough to blot out the depressing themes of loneliness and anxiety that permeate the movie.
Don’t misunderstand. Though it did drag on at times, it is a good movie. Good, not great. Just not for young children.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
For All to See
Apparently, Dan Aykroyd’s Saturday Night Live working man butt crack of 1978 lives on, as far as NBC News is concerned.
On its Sunday evening national newscast, NBC aired footage of cameramen pursuing the Colorado “Balloon Boy” Heene family as they entered their home. It was a flashing moment, but NBC clearly showed a photographer with his pants down low enough to reveal several inches of butt crack.
See for yourself. The revelatory moment comes exactly three minutes into this 3:24 video.
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/21134540/vp/33370273#33370273
(PS: If for some reason this URL doesn't automatically link, just copy it and paste it to your finder.)
On its Sunday evening national newscast, NBC aired footage of cameramen pursuing the Colorado “Balloon Boy” Heene family as they entered their home. It was a flashing moment, but NBC clearly showed a photographer with his pants down low enough to reveal several inches of butt crack.
See for yourself. The revelatory moment comes exactly three minutes into this 3:24 video.
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/21134540/vp/33370273#33370273
(PS: If for some reason this URL doesn't automatically link, just copy it and paste it to your finder.)
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