Two Hours, eh?

For the record, I didn't just wake up. I just wanted to no longer be angry when I wrote this, and apparently a 14 hour sleep didn't calm me down enough. Luckily blowing mother fuckers up in EVE took care of it.

There really isn't any problem that can't be solved by blowing shit up, middle eastern politics aside.

Wednesday was an interesting night. I knew for a fact that it would turn out being all fucked up when I asked myself "How long can I stay at my house and listen to my scanners here before anyone notices I haven't dropped by the station yet?" It was going to be an attempt to see if there would be no news and I could camp out here and catch up on writing and resume making until four when I would have to go fetch a live truck.

Of course at 10:30 I get woke up and instructed that I would need to come right in at midnight as Kyla and I would be heading out to San Bernardino county to cover the wildfires. Normally we wouldn't as that's in LA's market, but the smoke from the fires had totally blanketed Vegas.

I was told that where we were going was going to be a two hour drive. I'm still half asleep (and it was a poor sleep at that, seeing as I fell asleep in my recliner catching up on TiVo) so I mumbled some sort of acknowledgment and went back to sleep.

I woke back up at 11:15, showered, changed and stopped by Walgreen’s to pick up some traveling supplies. Once I arrived at the station, things went from fine to 'ah, fuck'.

No one had bothered to actually see where our destination was. In fact I had to actually ask 'Are we going anywhere in particular, or am I just expected to drive till I see a fire?' I was told we were going to Pioneertown, CA, a two hour drive from Vegas.

I Google Map the directions.

"ARE YOU ALL FUCKING INSANE?!?!?! THIS IS A FIVE FUCKING HOUR DRIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Mapquest quickly agreed with Google and confirmed that via interstate, we were looking at a five hour trek that would take us to within 5 feet of Palm Springs. Of course, we didn't have a single paper map of California anywhere to be seen, so I had to devise a back road plan that, at least on the monitor, looked shorter.

Then suddenly; "OH NO! WE DIDN'T CALL IN A PHOTOGRAPHER!!!"

I roll my eyes. I wanted to get on the road, so I tell them that I could do both the truck and the photog part, but our EP is pretty by the book (when he wants to be, *heh*) and said that a photog HAD to go. They got a hold of Joseph, who said that it would be an hour before he could get to the station.

Kyla and I were told to go, and Joseph would have to catch up with us.

I load up into trusty Unit 22 and we head out. For the record, there are some really steep climbs along I-15 and a DSNG van - a vehicle with a cargo van engine that's loaded down with 4,000 pounds of electronics including a big ass satellite dish - has a hard time going up them.

It's weird when a big fatass like myself is standing on the gas and we're still decelerating...

Anyway, we make it to Barstow, CA (140 miles) in two hours, thanks to my liberal interpretation of the speed limit. I get gas and purchase a So. Cal. map. It's determined that SR-247 will get us down near 29 Palms and close to the fire.

One of the fun things about a DSNG truck is steep downgrades. They tend to follow steep climbs. I tell you, 247 was a fuckin' roller coaster ride. Somehow Kyla managed to sleep through most of it, despite my constant 'WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!'

We finally arrive at SR-62 in Yucca Valley, CA. It's wild, as you can see the fires by now. It looks like the entire side of a mountain is on fire. We drive down to Pioneertown Road, which is closed off by a CHP trooper.

I hop out of the truck and walk up to him.

Erin: Hi there!
Trooper: Hello. (looks at truck) Where are you from?
Erin: Las Vegas, sir. They sent us down here 'cause the smoke is totally covering the city.
Trooper: Yeah, I heard that. What can I do for you?
Erin: Well, I'm wondering where I can go to get some great video of the fires.
Trooper: (looks at Erin like he's the biggest moron on the face of the Earth) Uh, why don't you just drive up into Pioneertown?
Erin: Well, you're blocking the road. It's closed, isn't it?
Trooper: (laughs) Well, media can go up there!
Erin: (falls on face) WHAT?!?! You're going to let us past?!?!
Trooper: Uh, yeah.
Erin: I apologize sir. Back in Nevada a police car blocking the road means 'turn around and go back 16 blocks to the media staging area'.
Trooper: You're in California now boy!

I kiss the trooper and hop back into 22. I nearly have an orgasm as I drive around his flares, while he did nothing but wave at us as we headed into the breech.

It was already 5:00, and our first window was at 5:55, so we didn't have a lot of time to drive around and explore. We were told there was other media up there, but we couldn't locate them. Apparently the really good fire and video was a bit further down the road, but seeing as it would have been a shame to drive all this way (we left at 1:00 AM and arrived in Yucca Valley at 5:00 AM) just to miss our windows, we set up near the historic wooden 'old west' buildings that were what made Pioneertown the nifty place I assume it is.

Joseph arrived just after our 6:00 hit, making so I had to be paranoid doing both the truck operations and the photography myself. I assume someday I won't care as much, but being as I am new at it, I can believe I've fucked something up and the TOC would be calling me demanding I get off the bird, only to get my voicemail since Kyla was using my cell for IFB.

We did a few more hits and sent back a look live for the noon. After the 7:25 hit and the look live was sent back, Joseph headed back towards Vegas. Kyla and I broke the truck down and were also instructed to head back. However we found out that no b-roll was shot, and being as there were a ton of firefighters roaming around, I went ahead and got some video.

It wasn't that good, since we didn't know where the good flames were (being as we didn't have a map of the area - my SoCal map was just general, not street level in towns of 600), but it was something fresh.

At the road block we found some people who lived up there. The police weren't allowing the civilians in (but they were the media, which made me orgasm again) so they were curious about their homes. We told them that all the houses we saw were intact, but we didn't go very far in. We then got some kick ass sound with the residents.

We call the desk, and they don't even seem to care, being as it took them 20 minutes to book our window for us to feed back some VO and the sound. We got it send back, and went to a small little diner for lunch.

Personally, I think they should have kept us out there for an actual live at noon. But whatever. We ate and started on the four hour journey back to Vegas. On the way back, I get a call and get totally bitched out about how the noon look live looked, even though I didn't shoot it. I apparently should have been out of the truck holding a reflector.

I probably should have. I am sure I could have been more useful, but I was under the impression that I was the TRUCK OPERATOR, not a second photographer. At any rate I accepted blame for the quality of our lives and continued driving, finally arriving back in Vegas about 3:00.

So after our 15 hour day, Kyla and I are slammed with 'thank you’s' and 'great job’s!' Oh wait, no we weren't. Just people making jokes about how it 'looked like' two hours on the map.

NO IT FUCKING DIDN'T!!!!! UNLESS YOU WERE USING A FUCKING GLOBE, THERE WAS NO WAY IT LOOKED LIKE TWO HOURS!!!!!!!

I'm not angry about the drive though. I love going out of town. In fact, I would have been perfectly happy being told to stay out there for a few days. I like to drive and I like to travel. What burns my biscuits is the fact that we went beyond what we were asked to do, what was expected of us by seeking out sound, and - if we had more time - seeking out more video; yet (I) get nothing but bitched at. Other people, for simply doing their standard every day job, get thank you notes and nominated for Employee of the Month (which I wouldn't care about except I want the $$ that you get as a bonus!!! *heh*) This is compounded by the fact that I find out that photographers at the FOX station (#4 while we are #1) are making about $5,000 MORE than me.

Despite all that, tonight when I go in I will do the best I can, as I will not let my dissatisfaction with my job (not the station - KLAS is a wonderful place to work and none of what I have bitched about is localized to them; it's a industry wide thing) and the direction I seem to be going with it effect the quality of work I provide.

I've pondered doing about $5,000 less work, but I really don't know what that would be? Making my white balance off a couple hundred degrees?

I am going to publicly acknowledge that I am sending a resume and tape to a midwestern station that is hiring an overnight photographer.

I've said it before, I hate this city. I'm tired of the crime, of the dust, of the police and of the casinos. I miss weather, and I would love to be close enough to my family to visit them on occasion.

What I do plan to do differently is not to be low-balled. I have a dollar amount in mind and if I am offered a job I will stick to it (with a little wiggle room) and if they won't accept that, then what ever. I am sick and tired of being paid less than what I am worth. I don't like this job enough to continue to be ass raped.

Anyway, I guess I did still have some anger in me. Guess I need to go blow some things up, eh?