Cub Reporter

The Meeting.

By Len Morgan

As a cub reporter, I was expected to accompany a seasoned hack and take photos and movie shots with the Herald's digital camera.  I'd not been trained in its use, the editor just threw it to me together with the manual.

"Here kid, you're a gadgets man, get your mind around that; you're covering the Council meeting with Ted.  So, bring back some content for the website."

I took them as if I knew what I was doing and asked, "what do you have in mind boss?"

"I'll leave that up to you son, ten minutes of video and some stills aught to do it.  I would suggest you shoot thirty minutes then you can edit it and upload the best bits to the website, okay?"

"Okay boss," I said shouldering the camera like a pro.

.-...-.

 I'd been taken on two months earlier as a gofer; favour to my grandpa who in his day was the Herald's ace reporter, he's been retired for five years now but is still highly respected by the older hacks.  I'd been making coffee and running errands for the first three weeks.  So, I offered to help out with IT while the regular computer expert was on holiday.  The older reporters less savvy with the technology would call on me for help.

"Hey boy, can you take a look at my keyboard, it says I have 'sticky keys', but they all seem fine to me."

"Hey kid, my content just vanished can you get it back for me?"

"Gofer!  My mouse isn't working properly, can I have a replacement."

"My screens locked up..."

"It's broke..." 

Get the picture?  When Greg the IT man returned, as a reward for helping out, they sent me out to cover a story with Ray Scott the sports reporter.  

"Meet me at the City ground at 2pm tomorrow kid, here's your press pass.  Take your notepad & Pen and the mobile phone you were issued with, don't forget to charge it up overnight," he said.  "A reporter has to be prepared for anything, just like a boy scout."

So there I was outside the ground when Ray called me up on his mobile.  

"Sorry kid, my car's broke down on the M4, there's nobody else available so you'll have to cover the match for me.  Phone in your report to the main desk, (speed dial 01), as soon as the match is finished.  Do it before leaving the ground, so it makes the late edition!  Best of luck," there was a 'Click' then silence.  

My report must have been acceptable because on Monday morning I was offered the position of cub reporter; that was effectively an apprenticeship.  It meant I would get paid, but I had to attend college three nights a week and shadow the regular newshounds.  I was on cloud nine.

.-...-.

So off I went camera in hand, accompanied by Ted Marshall the local affairs reporter, to cover a routine monthly Council meeting at the town hall.  It was a hot sunny day, Ted drove in silence as I struggled to read the English section of the manual.  I left the manual in the car sure that what I didn't know, I could pick up as I went along.

"This is it, kid," we entered the front entrance and went into the chamber room where the meetings are held. 

The council was already in session, so I took some shots of the councillors.  I hadn't covered the flash section in the manual, but there was a domed glass roof allowing plenty of light to enter from above, and beams of sunlight came through slits in the closed blinds at the windows.  I took my stills and sat with the camera propped on a beanbag so it could be operated with the remote control.  I plugged earphones into the jack to monitor the sound and sat back to observe how Ted operated, as he took out his notebook and pencil.

"Meetings are always boring, nothing much gets done, but they have to justify their attendance fee, so they all say something, just to get into the 'minutes of the meeting' are you recording?" Ted asked.

 I checked "Yep," I said, pressing record.  He was right the meeting was boring, voices droned on and on and...

"Hey kid, you can wake up now, the meeting is over."

"Mmm uh?" I woke with a start.  The camera was tilted at a 45-degree angle, I stopped the recording and we headed back to the office.

"You slept for an hour and a half!  Wish I'd done the same." He grinned "you didn't miss a thing."

.-...-.

Back at the office, I viewed the results of an hour and a half of recording.  I felt sick.  The sound was muffled, I couldn't understand a word, the camera had fallen asleep at about the same time I had.  Dust motes made fascinating patterns as they passed in and out of sunbeams, as the camera slid slowly from vertical to horizontal in answer to gravity's pull.  A disaster!  I was gonna be sacked for sure.  No other self-respecting newspaper would ever employ me, not even as a gofer.  Then I saw Greg approaching and my heart sank even further, ridicule, humiliation, what would grandpa say when he heard how I'd let him down, as he surely would...

"Hi kid, did you get some exciting footage for us?"  I looked at him stricken with terror, ran for the toilets; locking the closet door, close to tears.

"Idiot, idiot, idiot!" I yelled.  Nobody came to see where I was, an hour passed, then I heard the door open.

"Well kid, I just viewed what you got.  It's not as bad as you think, in fact, it's verging on genius with a little judicious editing, from moir of course, come on out of there and give me a hand."  

.-...-.

Three hours later I was called into the editor's office for a debriefing and I wasn't looking forward to it.

"Your only real mistake son was in leaving the earphone jack plugged in.  A seasoned user checks the sound is okay then unplugs it.  If you'd done that the whole boring meeting would have been recorded, meaningless twaddle according to Ted.  Your sound was about as good as it got."  He smiled.  All things considered, you did a damned fine job.

"Let me show you the edited footage," said Greg switching on the video.  

The titles rolled:

Council Meeting 21/10/2014. 

 The picture was upright, showing the council members in landscape, then in panorama as the camera slewed slowly, then gradually the angle changed from 90 to 75 to 60 then 45 degrees.  The Councillors disappeared, stage left, and the sunbeams came into view.  Dust motes crisscrossed meaningfully in slomo, as unintelligible voices droned on and on...   I became aware that the pictures had slowly switched from colour to black & white.  Animated, shadows gesticulated on the floor, as the camera continued its unfettered mobilization.  Muffled voices raised in anger, followed by 'here here's', then more voices, and the camera toppled further, and further...

  

Finally, It stopped.  A voice said clearly.  "No more business?  I, therefore, declare this meeting closed!"

"We can't put that on the website," I gasped, "they'll sue."

"Too late, It's already out there," the editor smiled.  "The Mayor says it's the most entertaining recorded council meeting he's seen in thirty years.  It's a classic!"

As I left the editors office, my fellow workers stood up and applauded, Ted was sporting an especially broad grin as he patted me enthusiastically on the back.

  © Copyright Len Morgan