We Ain't One-At-A-Timin' It, We's Mass Communicatin'!

Beyond the obvious blessings – pollution, violent crime, unsanitary public restrooms and vermin plagues, to name a few – one of the greatest reasons to choose life in a big city is the opportunity to enjoy major-market media. Whether your fancy tilts (and I don’t have to tell you how painful a tilted fancy can be) toward print, radio, television, electronic, or a convergence of some or all of these, there’s sure to be a big-city scratch for your need-to-know itch.

Such is not life in small towns. Here in Mayberry, for instance, we take what we can get, sometimes with much chagrin. While our local newspaper continues to gradually and unintentionally remake itself into a product written and designed by preschool ESL students, the real fun comes from our good neighbors at the local television station. (We’ll call this station K9, which is not its actual moniker [but is darned close].)

K9’s ineptitude is legendary. If the on-air “talent” aren’t mispronouncing the commonest of proper nouns – at K9, Ted Koppel’s last name rhymes with Howard Cosell’s, and if you can’t imagine what they do to some of the names and places in Iraq, then you don’t know Shiite – they’re missing their cues in big, often hilarious ways. On a recent broadcast, the anchors went to Champ Sportsanchor (not his real name), who was on location for the local college’s basketball game. Champ stumbled through his script and segued into a commercial break. But before the guys in the booth could botch the commercial break, Champ lit into himself in a diatribe that was broadcast for all of us: “I blew it. I blew it. I completely blew it. Could that have been any worse?”

To the delight of literate viewers everywhere, the answer to Champ’s question is YES! On a recent broadcast, a segment hyping the network’s special on autism ran just before the Dopplerific weather segment. Many viewers were unable to tell when the autism segment ended and the weathercast began. (Clue: The kid who keeps pointing to Utah and calling it Kansas is the chief meteorologist.)

Then there are the local-interest segments, such as the recent “Shoot or Don’t Shoot?” series they ran. Viewers watched dramatic portrayals of situations in which a ne’er-do-well breaks into the home of a single guy who happens to keep a 9mm in every room of his house. Viewers were then invited to jump on the station’s website and vote on whether the gun-happy guy should shoot the intruder or – try to stay with me here -- not shoot the intruder. Keep in mind that this is the deep South and that the intruder was wearing a Texas Longhorns sweatshirt, and you can guess the results.

REPORTER: Though in this instance the suspect was not actually on the property of the homeowner, but was in fact on the sidewalk across the street, and untangling the dog’s leash from the legs of her walker, 93 percent of our viewers said it was OK to shoot in this situation.

And of particular delight is the station’s commitment to its hearing-impaired viewers. Closed captioning should go down as one of the greatest inventions of the last century, but in K9’s hands, it’s an FCC fine in the waiting. Here’s a comparison of a recent broadcast’s transcript and its closed-captioning equivalent.

ANCHOR: The postmaster cautions that letters and packages should be in the mail no later than December 15 to allow them to be delivered in time for Christmas. That’s our broadcast for tonight, we’ll see you at ten.

CLOSED CAPTIONING: Thw pahtnlstmr caohgh th lttoe and pckag ahgos be anal on alter ahn dacbembe 287 ot allw tha eb tob aibng &^$#( cor BRuismtas. Has ru broacyts rbo tbr4oty. Wll sgg u ar5g 1=.

This might be the only time deafness could be considered a blessing.

EDITOR'S NOTE: Due to time constraints, today's entry may not qualify as humorous. Future Wednesday installments should be somewhat funnier, though perhaps not by much. If this proves untrue, e-mail Wednesday Housefly and he will provide you the link to K9's website. You will find plenty to laugh at there.