FRESH
YARN PRESENTS:
I
Want My RNC
By Betsy Nagler
When
you work freelance in the city that never sleeps, you never know
where the money for your next order of Singapore Mai Fun is going
to come from. That's why when I received a call about a job recording
sound for MTV four years ago, my first answer was "Dude! I'm
so there." Okay, I don't actually talk like that since I don't
work for MTV on a regular basis -- although it was not the first
time I had been asked to work with America's favorite purveyor of
music videos and enlightening programs for young people such as
"Road Rules," "TRL" and "Jackass."
I've helped count down the Top Ten Videos at Hamptons beach houses,
eaten California rolls with Japanese rocker girls, rehearsed with
TLC before the Video Music Awards, and ridden the tour bus with
Linkin Park before attending their MTV Family Values Concert with
fellow family-unfriendly bands Stone Temple Pilots, Staind and Static-X.
And even if a mosh pit of the pre-pubescent isn't my favorite place
to spend a Saturday night (well, not since I turned 35), I have
to admit that MTV jobs have always provided me with a little coolness-by-association,
as well as a pretty good time.
This
job, however, was different, because MTV was calling to ask me to
record something that would split my ears in a completely different
way. They wanted me to work with one of their two camera crews filming
at the 2000 Republican National Convention in Philadelphia.
Upon
learning this, I immediately wanted to change my answer to, "I'd
rather be set on fire." I'm left of center and I come by it
honestly. My paternal grandparents were socialists. My Great Uncle
Isidore was Vice President of the International Ladies' Garment
Workers Union. When my father graduated from law school, my parents
joined the Peace Corps, then he returned to work as the Executive
Director of the New Jersey ACLU for over a decade while my mother
taught public high school in Newark and helped found the Essex County
chapter of N.O.W. During my childhood, I participated in my own
way -- arguing down other third graders whose parents supported
Ford over Carter, making the sacrifice of going Disney Land over
Disney World so we could boycott Florida for not passing the Equal
Rights Amendment. But in the years since, I'd strayed from the fold
by deciding to go to film school over law school and I had enough
healthy, Jewish guilt about it already. Did I now intend to just
go and spit in the eye of that legacy?
But
this job wasn't meant to glorify Republicanism -- or so I was told
by the absurdly young producer at MTV with whom I was to work. MTV
was going to both conventions with its MTV News team as part of
its "Choose or Lose" campaign, to report on the convention,
get young people interested in, and excited about, politics and
get out the youth vote. My activist forbearers would certainly approve
of that. Yes, this was my chance to make good by going in there
and cracking that convention wide open. And for me, personally,
getting to indulge the writer's penchant for voyeurism and the sound-person's
love of eavesdropping behind the scenes at a seminal event in our
political culture? Dude.
The
heat was blistering and sweaty when we arrived at the rambling press
compound outside the First Union Center that we would call home
for the week. Getting there was a challenge in itself. Each time
we entered the compound, via golf cart (no cars allowed), we had
to pass through one checkpoint, where guards would check our passes
and circle our vehicle with dogs and security devices -- that I'm
sure have some fancy name but are basically mirrors on sticks --
used to check for bombs attached to the underside of its diminutive
chassis. Then, every time we went from MTV's barely air-conditioned
hotbox into the convention center itself, our gear, passes and persons
would have to be checked thoroughly again. This was made both more
complicated and hotter by the several pounds of equipment I had
to wear for nearly all of my twelve-hour days as an ENG sound recordist,
attached to the cameraman by an umbilical cord-cable that is practically
guaranteed to get wrapped around your knees when he runs off somewhere
in a hurry, dragging you behind him.
Which
frequently happened, because we spent our days on a tight schedule
-- one, unfortunately, not quite as journalistically hard-hitting
as I had hoped. Twice a day, we did live satellite broadcasts with
John Norris, MTV's main 'info hunk,' but since these were done from
a sky-booth we had to borrow from another network, we had only a
small window in which to set up, make sure everything was working,
and broadcast -- for a minute or two. We also went with John to
various spots around the convention hall to tape MTV News Bulletins!!,
which would generally open with, "We're here at the Republican
National Convention" then proceed to announcing dates for the
Springsteen tour or advance word on Matchbox 20's new album. The
rest of our time was spent chasing around MTV's high energy Street
Team reporters, whose main responsibility was to "cover"
MTV-created media events, like a press conference with pro-wrestler
turned actor The Rock, or a rally at the Hard Rock Cafe in downtown
Philly with John McCain. These generally consisted of a few shouted
words from the MTV host, a few more from the political celeb, some
cheering and lots of loud music, and, if we were lucky, a brief
softball interview. The one time we did go to film and interview
the protesters outside the convention, we didn't stay long because
our producer and reporter seemed flummoxed by the fact that there
was something unplanned -- aka some real news -- going on. Luckily,
at least one member of the Street Team had been hired based on something
besides her telegenicity. Erica Terry, a 28-year-old - geriatric
by MTV standards - with a masters in journalism from Berkeley, had
no problem accosting Newt Gingrich in the hallway to ask him about
how the Republicans were doing with the youth vote, or stopping
Steve Forbes for a few impromptu questions about the flat tax (maybe,
I hate to say it, because she was the only one who knew what it
was). And while it was considerably more stressful running after
somebody shouting "Senator! Senator!" than covering a
scheduled media non-event, I believed these moments were really
the point: we were giving the kids in the MTV heartland something
to think about.
continued...
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