I found myself in Las Vegas a few weeks later, sitting on the makeshift "Site" set. One of their crew guys was putting a wireless mike on me. "Pam's coming out," he said. "Pam's the stage director. She'll be leading the show." And then I met Pam. To say that Pam was not in a good mood is to say that Attila the Hun was grumpy from not enough sleep. Now, I'm not trying to say that Pam was Attila the Hun. Pam did not, for instance, try to exterminate vast portions of ancient Rome. She saved that honor for me. Pam did not smile ONCE during my hour-long audition. "What are you going to do?" were her first words to me. Not a "Pleased to meet you," or "I love your stuff," as you might expect. "Ah, well, I have two editorial bits, then an interview, then my grand finale." For my first two pieces, I had just repurposed old ZUG stuff: Emotigone and Goodbye, Cool World. "Fine. Let's begin." Her face was hard as sheetrock. The cameraman pointed the camera at me and signaled that I was to begin.
"STOP," commanded Pam. "What's your name?" "John Hargrave," I said, licking dry lips. "You have to begin with your name and the name of the show." "Righty-ho." I waited for the cameraman to point at me again. "Hello, I'm John Hargrave, for 'The Site'. It's time to lose the smileys, people." "STOP," asserted Pam. "Where are you?" "COMDEX." "You have to tell people where you are." At this point, I reasoned that Pam was employing a psych-out technique they must use for television auditions. They wanted to see how I would perform under pressure. So I vowed to remain as chipper as possible. "Great!" I said sprightly. The cameraman gave me the signal. "I'm John Hargrave for The Site, reporting live from COMDEX/Fall 96. It's time..." "STOP." She glared at me. "You're not reporting live." "WELL, EXCUSE THE FUCK OUT OF ME!" I didn't scream. "CLEARLY, MY 22 YEARS OF BROADCAST JOURNALISM EXPERIENCE AREN'T COMING BACK TO ME!" I didn't say these things, because I had no broadcast journalism experience. A point that, apparently, had been lost on Pam. When I got the signal once more, I did a flawless intro. And I did the rest of my piece (memorized, I might add) flawlessly. The cameraman was even chuckling. When I finished, Pam issued: "Fine. What's next?" Pam was trying to kill me. My next bit also went perfectly. At one point, Pam began to smile, and the foundation of the convention center belched forth a mighty rumble. I knew I was winning her over. "Pam, you know what I think you guys should have on 'The Site'?" I asked between takes. "Aerobics. You know, get those computer nerds off their fat asses. Just like, five minutes of leg lifts. Will you do some aerobics with me on-camera?" See, I was keeping my sense of humor. Fat lot of good it did me. Pam was a nut I could not crack. "No, I only work behind the camera," she said, cold as the Alaskan tundra. "You wanted to do an interview?" So next, I did an interview with Steve Kremer, creator of the Joke Wallpaper site. Steve was very funny. "A lot of companies are throwing out free stuff from their booths, like T-shirts or mouse pads," he said. "America Online was actually throwing out laid-off employees. It was very interesting. They'd yell out, 'Here's Lisa from Accounting!' and chuck her into the crowd."
At this point, Bob the producer strolled out. "John, love your stuff," he said. "Been watching it on the backstage monitors. Very funny stuff." I imagined him on his cellular phone, sipping a fruit cocktail, oblivious to my performance. "You've got my card?" "Yes," I assured him. "Great. We'll be in touch." He strolled off. "All right, it's time for my final bit," I said to Pam. "I'll need a remote camera for this one."  |
