Leave that firm grasp of global trade policies at home, what you really need to cover a Presidential Election is a good step-stool. Just ask Joel Wade, New Hampshire news shooter and Senior Fellow of The Lenslinger Institute. That’s him, wedged in the corner between Old Glory and Whats-His-Nuts. He didn’t get there by accident. No, he’d driven ninety minutes, fought his way onto the riser and jacked his sticks just as high as they would go. And still that wasn’t enough to see Democracy in action! You know, watching my colleague claw his way to the top of the scrum like that fills me with pride and turns my stomach. I abhor politics and having been stuck in small rooms with a various world leaders over the years, I got good reason. But more than the megalomaniacs themselves, it’s the process that leaves me so deflated. Back in 2008, North Carolina was a battleground state. Jumpin’ John McCain, all the Clintons and some cat named Barack swung (swang?) through the Piedmont so many times, I began to frisk myself just to save the Secret Service some time. If that weren’t enough, I never once saw anything come from these summits but empty posturing, kind of like the acting you’ve come to expect from Saturday morning infomercials. Even with Mr. Hope and Change, the theatrics were rehearsed down to the pensive head tilt struck every three and a half minutes from any one podium. Of course, had I not come prepared, I wouldn’t have take away any impressions, other than the neck size of the network goob who invariably shows up at the last second and blocks my shot. Not Joel Wade…
When I got outside and saw the two-deep crowd along the cattle fence, I asked the reporter, Jenn Gannon to run back in and grab my stepstool so I could get above the crowd. That’s why you can see me in that shot. I was about two feet above everyone’s head.
Ahh, the lowly step-stool; once again making America safe for stagecraft and pageantry! To be fair though, these household ladders are good for more than eyeballing the future leader of the free world. I took one to an American Idol red carpet event in Hollywood once and could see clear over Simon Cowell’s ego and directly into Paula Abdul’s narcotic-induced haze.
Scary in there.
