Our seats were right next to the press box at Fiddler’s Green yesterday (11-3-2012). We arrived just as John Roberts was collecting gear from his advance work, loading out, bound for Ohio. He was very gracious, though he didn’t like when I said, “So you’re the talent!” Turns out it’s kind of a pejorative reserved for behind-the-lens techs to refer to the “on-airs” as the “talent.” Who knew? We visited with the local crew from Channel 7 just over the wall – very nice gentlemen. For all the crews, it was old guys behind the cameras, younger guys in front, though not that much younger. Denver is a career media market. You don’t start out here. It’s where you might make it after paying your dues out in the provinces somewhere no one has heard of.
The local affiliates had the back, upper level of the press box, the front level,closer to the stage, was reserved for the national press who travel with the campaign. All the press-riser real estate had been lined out and assigned to lessees. The network guys arrived shortly before the Romneys took the stage. It was awesome to see the national guys work. They came in like thoroughbreds, lean, purposeful, conditioned by years of transiting the world to capture the leading edge of media. They didn’t look like family men, these Ronin, Samurai warriors of the press. More than occupy their patches of camera real estate, they consumed their environment in the shadows of the show with the mere power of their presence. The locals had put down gaffers tape to protect their wires, brought chairs, some had picked up food, they had moved in for a time. Not the national network guys. Their only connection to the set was a power cable. Fast in, grab the content, check Blackberries, fast out. Campaign Carl made his exit scrambling over rows of seats. When they decide to go, nothing stops these guys.