Lenslinger Alert!

I'd love to be able to do this story, but since I'm nowhere near Greensboro, I guess I'll give it to the 'Slinger to pitch.

UNC Greensboro's ECON 201 is actually a video game that counts for 3 credit hours.

Gamepolitics has the story.

You can thank me for the Emmy later.

Father's Day

It's my first Father's Day, but it's nothing like I imagined.

On May 19, 2007, I became the proud papa of Chloe Anne and Claire Michelle Sellers.

Having these two beautiful children enter our lives is a blessing and a joy I didn't know was possible. Finally being able to hold them brought the stupidest grin to my face, but I couldn't help it. These are my girls, and I'd do anything for them. Most of you have already read my musings on the subject of parenthood, so I'll not go into that again. How could two little babies enter the world and be so perfect?

The work began the first night. Erica was confined to the bed after the C-section, and the medicines she was on kept her out of commission for the first couple days. This meant that I was the one not getting any sleep, because the slightest sound from any of them had me instantly awake and ready to tend to their needs.

A couple of days later we brought them home, and the next couple of weeks passed rather uneventfully. Diapers were changed, bottles were filled, emptied, washed, and filled again. It was a hectic schedule, but my mother-in-law stayed with us, so I got to avoid most of that, because I was going to work. We looked ahead to the future, anticipating the day when they would begin smiling at us and laughing, crawling and rolling around on the floor with us, and all of the things that parents take joy in seeing their children do.

Our lives had changed forever, and the worry of the past 36 weeks was behind us. Our girls were healthy and more beautiful than I could believe. They were about to change again.

June 8, 2007 is one day I will never forget. I had called in sick, because my eyelid was bulging with a still growing stye, and I wasn't feeling too well, either. I figured a day at home with some rest and warm compresses would clear things up by Monday, and I'd be headed back to work. My wife and her mother were worrying about Chloe, because they couldn't wake her up for her six a.m. feeding, and she's not one to miss those. When they began to get her ready to go to the pediatrician, I knew that I had to go. She was pale and breathing shallowly, not moving much. We rushed to the office to get the diagnosis.

Our doctor checked her over and told us that we needed to get her to the PICU quickly. She called an ambulance for transport, in case something happened on the way. While waiting for the EMTs, I was trying to comfort Chloe. She grasped my forefinger in her tiny hand, rested her cheek against the back of my hand and looked me right in the eyes. I told her that she'd be better soon, and not to be scared.

That was pretty much the last time she looked directly at me. I wish I could say the next four days are a blur, but I can remember them quite clearly. Chloe was immediately given IV antibiotics and put on a ventilator. She could breathe on her own, but this let her rest and fight the infection. That infection turned out to be bacterial meningitis, caused by Group B Strep. By Sunday she was looking better, and though she had suffered some seizures, the outlook was ok. Her body seemed to be getting healthier, but full neurological diagnosis would have to wait.

Monday was a bad day in which Chloe got worse before our eyes. That evening we got the talk that nearly caused me to pass out. The swelling had gotten worse, and so had the EEGs measuring her brain activity. That night we called our priest and he came to the hospital and baptised both girls. Claire was already in the hospital receiving the same antibiotics, but only as a precaution, since her tests were negative for the germ.

Tuesday, June 12, 2007 is the day we let our baby go. I read to her for the first and last time that morning. That afternoon, we all got to hold her and tell her goodbye, one by one. Finally Erica and I held her as the IVs and ventilator were disconnected, and she drifted peacefully out of our arms and into God's loving embrace.

Claire is fine. She's healthy and home with us, which helps ease the pain, but even she seems to miss her sister. Suddenly I find myself revising the dreams I had, and instead of two beautiful smiling faces playing in the yard, kissing me goodnight, and graduating together, I only see one. We have vowed that Claire will have a normal life, and that we won't let Chloe's loss cripple us. The prayers that have been given up for us have given us strength to face this, and we wholeheartedly thank each and every one of you for those.

So here I sit, on Father's Day, and contemplate what's next. Tomorrow I will go back to work. In my profile I say that I'm trying to grow up as slowly as possible. It was forced on me this past week. Thank all of you for thinking about us. We'll be ok, eventually.

Chloe and Claire

Chloe and Claire
Originally uploaded by lothoreo

Well, here they are. This is the picture I wanted to get up in the earlier post.

Happy Trails

Goodbye and good luck, Kenny P.

Last Friday was Ken Pastorick's last day at the Deuce. It is with some small amount of sadness that I salute you, sir, for all the laughs, tense moments, high blood pressure, and tight deadlines you have given me.

Ken is one of the most loyal people I know. His television career started here as an intern, and he came full circle, 20 years later. In the time that I have known him, he bled whatever colors the mic flag bore, be it purple and gold, silver and blue, or blue, black gold and purple. You'd be hard pressed to find an employee who backed his station with such fierce determination.

He's also an excellent reporter, who sinks his teeth into a story like a rabid pit bull, and then shakes it back and forth until it finally succumbs to his quill.

We shared some great times, sleeping in news units, staring down Category 5 hurricanes, or playing kick the seagull. It was dead, so no PETA threats, please. Of course Ken just missed it with Mobile 16 before I planted it squarely in the grill of Mobile 30.

I find it only fitting that he spent his last day assigned with me, heading to Port Sulphur, to seek out a former Deucer on which to do a story. That person is Russell Drewry, who had come back to Louisiana on a mission trip.

We had a good time catching up, and putting together a great story, and Russell even carried my tripod! As my gift to Kenny, as he moved on to his Gub-mint job as a PIO, I sent him out with a bang. You could even say we nailed this story. Have I hammered the point home enough?

Port Sulphur Pilgrimage

They're Heeeeere!

Announcing the newest branches of the family tree, Chloe and Claire!

These two healthy girls were born at 2:28 p.m. and 2:29 p.m., weighing in at 5 lbs., 15 oz. and 5 lbs, 10 oz., and measuring 19 in. and 18 in., respectively.

Wish us luck with these two handfuls, as they are our first children.

I was gonna link a couple of photos, but apparently you can't do that from Snapfish. Guess I'll have to try another site.

Getting Close

This could be a big weekend for our family.

Tonight the wife and I are staying at the Hotel Baton Rouge General. She's being kept overnight for observation, with a possible C-section tomorrow at noon. Everything is ok, so far, with the exception of a slightly high blood pressure, which is was spurred the visit.

Updates to follow when possible.

Gaming Parents

With my twins almost here, I find myself thinking of what kind of parent I'll be to them.

I've been told I'll make a great parent, probably because I haven't given up that last fingerhold on my childhood. I keep wondering what I'll do to make sure they know they're loved and cared for, and hope that they'll turn out to be well-adjusted, productive members of society.

One of my plans is to get them into video games as early as possible. Not only does it give me an excuse to keep playing, but it gives me an excellent opportunity to share a part of their lives with them.

This article gives me hope that I can do just that, and start an open and honest line of communication with them.

Water, Water...

What could the cost of a few drops of rain be to a city like Baton Rouge?

For my second sweeps offering, I present a two part series on rain.

What's the Cost?

What Can We Do?

An interesting note: I couldn't help but think of the Ol 'Polisher when we were shooting at the Wastewater Treatment Plant. Surprisingly, it smelled much better than New Orleans on Mardi Gras.

More Awards

I'd like to give thanks to the Ol 'Polisher for the shout out on our accolades, and to return the favor. Not many people get to be on both teams during the big game.

It is nice to know that someone recognizes the hard work, even if it's only second place. Don't get me wrong; something is better than nothing, but who could respect me for being content with anything less than first.

For the backstory on what it took to place, check out this crumb that may have fallen through the cracks.

Address: Atchafalya

Sweeps has begun! My first offering to the ratings gods aired Sunday night. I shot it, but JP edited it. I think it came out really well.

Watch it here.

Joor Road

Kenny: "What do you think?"
Me: "It's a story about a road."

Such was the deeply intellectual conversation in which we engaged after I read the script. For the record it was a pretty good day, and Kenny had some good ideas.

Check it out.

Oh, and here's a link to the piece about LSU's Bowl Prospects. The standup is one of my better sequences.

Bowl Hopes.

Birthday...huh.

"Doing anything special for your birthday?"
"Define 'special'."

My birthday was last week, so here's a quick rundown of how I spent it:

12:00 - 4:30 AM Sleeping, more or less.

4:30 - 5:00 AM Wake up, stumble into clothes, brush teeth, etc.

5:00 AM Fire up Mobile 30 and pull out of driveway.

5:10 - 10:10 AM I-12, I-10, I-49, LA Hwy. 167, LA Hwy. 80

10:12 AM Pull into parking lot at Grambling State University

10:20 AM Find Media Room - No food remaining.

10:25 - 10:55 AM Hang out with other Sat. Op.

11:00 AM Return to truck, find Galaxy 11, pull cable and set up tripod, camera, microphone, IFB, and reflector.

11:50 AM Uplink is hot.

12:05 PM Power down.

12:20 PM Cookin' again.

12:35 PM "Clear"

12:40 - 3:50 PM Hang out in truck, watch sat feed of funeral, or whatever else is on the bird.

3:50 - 4:05 PM Live again.

4:25 - 4:40 PM Move truck 1oo yds. and reset.

4:50-4:57 PM Wait on 'the bridge' while one person juggles access for three sats and 30 truck ops before finally accessing the bird.

5:05 PM Standby mode activated.

5:25 PM Call access about previous cluster, have pleasant conversation.

5:45 PM "Press 1 for Galaxy 11." beep "Please enter your 2-digit trans-" beep, beep..beep

6:10 PM HPA to OFF, strike equipment and cables.

6:30 PM Dish is Down, so is the 'hammer.'

10:00 PM Get in line at Wendy's in Lafayette.

10:30 PM Get food and return to truck.

11:40 PM Park Mobile 30 at station.

11:45 PM Eat burger.

12:15 AM Get home.

12:30 AM System log ends.

Goodbye, Coach Rob

This week I paid my respects to Coach Eddie Robinson in the true photog tradition, by covering his memorial service. Monday found me visiting the State Capitol as Coach Rob made his trip to lie in state.

It was one of the most powerful moments I have ever witnessed. Many of his former players were there for the ceremony, and they handed a football from one to another along a line that streched from the doors of the Senate chamber, to the seal in the center of the rotunda, and back, before handing it to his widow, who placed it in the casket with him. Then the band, set up at the other end of the rotunda, near the House Chamber, began to play the Grambling State University alma mater, and nearly everyone in the room began to sing. The players and coaches held one hand aloft, with their index finger extended. Truly a shooter's dream; rich, powerful visuals accomanied by great sound. As the alma mater wound down, the band transitioned smoothly into the GSU fight song, sung with such love, devotion, and energy that a person couldn't help getting swept along in the tide of emotion flooding through the room. I'm getting choked up, even now.

I don't know a lot about Coach Rob. I truly regret that I didn't get to meet him, because I know it would have been one of those moments of being in the presence of true greatness. A humble man whose goal was to lead every young man in his care to be someone he could allow to marry his daughter, and to realize they could take charge of their lives and become whatever they wanted. Some became professional football players, but many became doctors, lawyers, and professionals in many fields other than the gridiron on which they played.

That's one of the great benefits of this job. I may not have ever met the man in life, but I have come to know him through the lives that he has changed. Thank you, Coach Rob.

Breaking Ground

Any shooter will tell you that ribbon cuttings and ground breakings are the bane of their existence. If more of them were like the one last week, we'd all be clamoring for them.

The groundbreaking was a ceremonial affair for work being done on LA Hwy. 1. This road is the true Energy Corridor for the country, through which nearly 18 percent of the country's oil flows, not to mention more than a few tons of fresh gulf shrimp. I was working a nightside schedule, because I was doing uplinks for the early evening shows. I got there with a comfortable amount of time to set up the truck and enjoy the view.

Fourchon (pronounced FOO-shawn) is nearly identical to Cameron. The buzz of whirling helicopter blades never fades from hearing for long as they carry workers and supplies over the marshes and out to the petroleum platforms in the Gulf of Mexico. This was my first time on this part of the coast, and I enjoyed the smell of the sea breeze and the cry of the gulls, especially since I didn't have to pay attention to the drone of the politicos under the tent.

After a couple hours of speeches the time finally came to put shovel to freshly poured dirt, accompanied by the requisite applause and punctuated by the clicks and pops of shutters and flashes, while the silent lenses of the video cameras fed images to hungry CCDs. But the feeding didn't stop there. The band in the corner of the tent struck up and the boiled crawfish and shrimp began to flow. I managed to polish off a couple pounds of mudbugs between satellite windows, and even brought home a pound of peeled tail meat. Unfortunately I could have any of the free beer to wash down this sumptuous smorgasbord, because I was still on the clock, in company logowear, and had a three hour drive back to Baton Rouge in a van worth more than 100 grand.

I settled for a Coke and a smile.

Hurricane Fever

We're about two months away from the start of hurricane season, which means we'll be doing stories about it until the first storm makes landfall. Last week, Kenny P and I made an afternoon journey to Morgan City to localize the Hurricane Conference Forcast. With a heavily compressed shooting schedule, I think it came out alright.

Oh, if you're ever down by the floodwall, don't trust your compass. When I finally found the satellite to feed the story back, I was pointing due West, according to my compass. For the record, Galaxy 11 is almost due South. Next time I'll trust my instincts.

Here's the story.

Congrats?

Though I had little to do with the story, I'm probably gonna be in the promo.

"Didn't you shoot part of the homecoming queen story for Andy?" was the question coming from the other end of the phone. "Yeah, but just the homecoming game and her getting crowned," was my reply. "Why?"

"It won a Murrow."

I said it then, and I'll say it now-the only part I played in this piece was shooting the above mentioned event. I didn't shoot the interviews or the rest of the package, I didn't even edit the story, but I did supply advice on the closing sequence. Since the person responsible for the story has moved on, I guess they needed someone to accept the award, which I will do with all humility.

Congrats to Andy Pepper, though, on his second Murrow in as many years.

Watch the story.

There and Back Again

Please, Tolkien, don't sue for that headline. I have heard clamoring for a new post, and since it's been two months, I'm waaaay overdue.

A couple of weeks ago I made a trip to the Lone Star State. It was a sports trip to cover the LSU Lady Tiger basketball team, but an easy trip wouldn't make the blog, of course.

Since this was an out of town trip, we were going in Mobile 30, the Deuce's satellite uplink truck. I like Mobile 30, but she had just spent a week in the shop for a major oil leak. We got her back the night before we were to leave, so there was no time for a shakedown. This would prove unfortunate.

I had hoped to leave early enough to avoid rush hour traffic in Houston, so I showed up at the station at 11 am, hoping to leave no later than noon. BD had to shoot Syl and the girls leaving, so we didn't leave until 1:30. That's when I realized that the air conditioner wasn't working. A nine hour trip, and we didn't have A/C, but the weather was cool, so it wouldn't be that bad. "If this is the only problem we have this trip, then I'll take it," I said to BD. Almost prophetic, don't you think? Read on.

We got to Houston at 6 pm...awesome. Forty-five minutes later we were on Hwy. 290 and the last third of our drive, which was rather uneventful. The Doubletree was a great hotel; we were a dozen paces from the fitness room, and a score from the pool. It was also sandwiched between a Pappacito's and a Pappadeaux's restaurants. We were definately eating well on this trip. While it wasn't across the street from the venue, it was only 10 minutes away on I-35, which ran right in front of the hotel.

Friday was our first day in the city, and we discovered that we were just in time for the SXSW (South by Southwest) music festival. I haven't seen that many vehicles hauling trailers since Katrina. Everywhere we walked we saw bands unloading, heard them playing, or saw them packing up. Great if we were looking for bands, but instead we were looking for LSU fans. We didn't find any, so we headed to the Erwin Center. Around 4 pm the press conferences were about to begin, so I headed out to the truck to get it set up for our 6 pm sat shot. I fired up the generator, but as my questing finger reached the first switch, it died, never to run for the duration of the trip.

I knew I had a shore power cable in the back, so I wasn't too worried, I just needed to find an outlet, which was nearby, but no electrons were flowing. The question I got from keepers of the power was "Did you order power?" Hmmm, we have our own generator, so...not really. Finally somone showed up about 5:45 pm. The first window opened at 5:50. We didn't make that one.

Why? When I powered up the racks, they tripped the breaker. I was now participating in The Ken Mattingly Experience. It was just like Apollo 13, except no lives were on the line. Once I got my power-up sequence figured out, I thought I was good to go. But why wasn't the HPA powered up? It's because I only had one circuit powered. I thought the A/C was the only thing on the other circuit, but the HPA is on that one as well. Luckily I was able to borrow one from one of the other trucks there, and got the 6:15 shot up in time.

The rest of the trip was, thankfully, rather uneventful. I saw 'Tim and Eric' who have a show on Cartoon Network, but didn't want to interrupt their meal. The day after we got back, the generator tech showed up to work on it. He got it to start on the first try.

It later died and a faulty fuel pump was found to be the problem. So I wasn't crazy after all.

Scorched Feelings

Scorchy Tawes is a legend. I wish I would have known him.

In watching WBOC's tribute to a man who could find the brilliance in the everyday, I discovered something. I've been trying to pin down a feeling I've been having since the storms, and Scorchy's story finally nailed it. One of his long-time co-workers theorized that his time spent abroad during WWII made him the consummate storyteller that everyone knew, because when he came back to his hometown he was a different person than when he left. One of the people, but with the eyes of an outsider.

That's the feeling I get when I return to Cameron. It's where I grew up, but I couldn't really appreciate it until I left. Being away allowed me to return with a wider vision. I could see more of the beauty of a Cameron Parish sunset, setting fire to the marsh, as the sun touched the western horizon. The peaceful shushing of the waves on the beach, mingled with the drone of boat engines, straining against the current and the drag of heavy nets, filling with gulf shrimp. Most importantly I can better understand what it means to be a resident of Cameron Parish, a people who represent everything that makes the United States of America great.

Some of them have been knocked down twice in their lives, but they just pick up the pieces, put their lives back together, and continue. Most enjoy the simple pleasures of life: family, food, football, and friendship. Hunting and fishing come as naturally as breathing, and I can't think of anywhere in the country where a person can live for one year and not have to drive more that an hour to enjoy fresh- and saltwater fishing, duck and goose hunting, deer, rabbit, squirrel, and alligator hunting, along with the best chance to see rare migratory birds and all of the above mentioned fauna in a huge exhibit.

Even though Scorchy lived his life on the upper east side of the nation, I think he would have enjoyed a visit to this little corner of the world. I know I do.

Still Going

I'm still here, and still going. I've taken a long absence because I've been fairly busy with work, home and other things, and just plain tired.

How 'Bout Dem Saints! I can't believe they are going to the NFC Championship. I'm trying not to get my hopes up, but they keep throwing fuel on the fire. What's a poor guy to do? Should I finally jump in with both feet? I wonder if a trip to Miami is in my future. It's really unfortunate that the NFL decided to ban local video cameras from the sidelines this year. I was going to offer my services to the sports dept. for the year. What a year it would have been.

Otherwise, I haven't had anything that's struck the blogging side of me for a while, and I've only been firing up the computer once a week or less.

If anyone's still reading, thanks for coming, and I'll try to be more regular in my posting this year. I'm sure I'll have a lot to post about in the next six months.

Foggy Bottoms

Look out! It's FOG! It must have been a pretty slow news day, because the dense fog advisory is leading the newscasts for both stations tonight. I know I could be biased, but I've got to tip my hat to the Deuce tonight for cool shots and interesting coverage. Pat S. was actually out in it, while Jay G. was chillin' in the climate controlled confines of the station. Plus News 2 had a great tower cam shot of the State Capitol building poking through the layer of low-lying mist, even if it was a little fuzzy.

Yes, yes, the rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated. Since my last post, sweeps has ended and I finally got to take a long overdue vacation. As the Ole 'Polisher pointed out, I did turn out a majority of the month's media, which left me quite drained. Add to that the amount of time off I've taken this year (two days at the end of June), and I was in the throes of a serious burn-out. Luckily I had already scheduled a good chunk of time off this month, nearly all of it. The only day I've worked this month was the sixth, and I go back to work on Monday.

Whereas the 'Slinger would dedicate this kind of time to some serious soul-searching, I chose to recline in reclusive reticence. Actually that's not exactly accurate, but sounds really good. I spent the first day looking at my future offspring. If I haven't mentioned it before, we're expecting...twins, and everything seems to be going well. The next week was spent editing the yearly blooper tape and readying the homestead for the newsroom christmas party. This was my first chance to use my PC for editing, and I turned out a classic, with an assist from 'Polisher. I'll save the superlatives for others to post, but I do feel the best part is the memorial montage for T-boy Richard. Both the party and the tape seem to have been a success.

Today I spent with a visit to my Grandfather in Abbeville, which also went well. Tomorrow will be a me day.