Monday, 23 August 2010

Please Don't Make Me Go Out There.....

Life's a bitch. I have come to this conclusion having just got around to cleaning up the shithole that passes for my office here at chez ukcameraman. Not only did i find old bits of kit that wouldn't surprise and astound the Lumierre brothers, in amongst the fluff, wires and something that had come to life in a dark recess under the desk, i found a large pile of work diaries from the past 14 years.

Old diaries ... memories of past glories and cock ups.
Wow!! I can hear the cries of astonishment from historians, tv producers and hollywood film makers rushing to my door demanding the film rights to this pot of fluff covered and slightly soiled tv gold. Well, no. It garnered nothing more than a raised eyebrow from me and a slight eagerness to relive days gone by.

So, after finishing the office clean for this decade, i made a coffee and sat down to read about my adventurous life over the last 14 years. And that is why i came to the conclusion that life is a bitch. You see, being a TV News cameraman, and a freelance one at that, i tend to be sent to various places around the South of England where something news worthy has occurred. By news worthy, i mean death, destruction, hard luck stories, violence of one form or another .... and politics.

As i read on, i plunged into a world that i can't believe i live in, let alone gone out with my camera and filmed. Take for example 20th February 2004. I filmed a story about the homeless, quick shots of a war memorial that had been vandalised and a story about a secondary school teacher being assaulted by a student. That was just one day out of the whole pile of 14 years worth of memories. It's a wonder that i didn't go home that night and cry myself to sleep.

Here's one: Thurs 18 May 1998. It simply reads 1430 - 1845 hrs, BBC, Interview. Family of girl killed by drugs and misdiagnosis.

Have i really been able to do this job for the past 14 years and come out the other side having met these people on what seems like a weekly, if not daily basis? It certainly looks like it, for i have forgotten them. I cannot recall their names or see their faces or recount the story to you.

Here's another: Fri 4 Feb 1998. 1300 - 1730 hrs, Fatal road crash M27.

That's it. that's all it said. No name, no how, why or sentiment. I got in the truck, drove to the scene and filmed a piece for the news that night without another thought. It's what i always do and is what i probably always will should i be doing this for another 14 years. But having read through the diaries, I gave a passing thought to the poor souls who's life has took a turn into the path of the blazing lights of the news truck, and consoled myself that the next job could be this......

Tues 10 Oct 2000. 0900 - 1700 hrs, UK Conker championships. Whitchurch.

My life is blessed. Bye.