THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, July 31, 1994 TAG: 9407280205
SECTION: CAROLINA COAST PAGE: 03 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: Ford Reid
LENGTH: Medium: 63 lines
I've never been particularly tolerant of people on television.
When I hear a baseball announcer say ``That's the hardest ball I've ever seen hit,'' I shout at the screen, ``No, you idiot! That ball is no harder than any other.''
When I hear a network newscaster say that something is ``very unique,'' I yell ``Hold it, bub! Something is either unique or it isn't. Period. There can be no very about it.''
When I hear a weatherman talking about ``a rain event'' or a ``hard-freeze situation,'' I simply groan, loudly.
My wife, either because she likes to defend the attacked or because she likes to disagree with me, tries to calm me down.
``It isn't easy,'' she always says, ``to stand in front of a camera and talk. Have a little sympathy for these people. They are all doing the very best that they can.''
I grumble about all of the money they are paid and argue that the least they could do is try not to mangle the English language. Is that too much to ask?
Then, a few weeks ago, I reluctantly became the subject of a television interview. I didn't want to do it, but the person asking was a friend of a friend and I didn't want to be rude, either.
Finally, I said yes, mostly to avoid feeling like a horrible hypocrite. I have spent most of my adult life as a newspaperman and much of that time has been devoted to convincing unfortunate people who have been swept into the news that they ought to tell me their stories.
Now, I was on the other side. Someone was asking me to tell my story. How could I say no without feeling like a jerk? How could I refuse without being haunted by all of those that I had convinced to talk?
I had a pretty good idea of what I would be asked and I gave a lot of thought to my answers.
But when the camera started to roll, I just opened my mouth and words came out. Lots and lots of words. I rambled on and on and on. I think I was making sense, but I cannot be sure of that. At least no one told me to shut up.
I certainly can't be sure that my grammar, my syntax and my pronunciation were always perfect. Who knows what I might have said, not to mention how I might have said it.
All I can do is hope.
After the television crew had left, I began to think about what I had said. More to the point, I tried to remember what I had said.
I drew a blank.
I could recall, vaguely, the subjects that I talked about. But I had no idea what I had said. I might have been brilliant. On the other hand, I might have made a complete fool of myself.
As I write this, the interview has not yet been broadcast. I don't know whether I will be able to watch it or not. I will probably stand in a doorway, in an effort to make a quick exit and hide from myself if any really stupid words come out of my mouth.
Maybe I will learn some tolerance from this.
Probably not.
I'll have to wait and see how dumb I sound. by CNB