It was Animal-Tastic
When doing live television, I think it best to fortify for the show with malt liquor.
As in a 24-ounce Old English 800 (the “Crazy 8”).
“So, Gabbo, what are you doing at, say, six o’clock?” my friend C-Lo asked as she strode up to my desk at 4 p.m. Wednesday.
(Remember, kids play dumb when it comes to questions like this.)
“Uhhhhh, I dunno. I think I’m going for a ride. What’s up?”
C-Lo hosts a 30-minute cable access channel show called Animal-Tastic. It’s live. It’s got animals. It’s 15 minutes of an interview and call-in questions, then 15 minutes of animals up for adoption at the two local shelters.
“Our guest crapped out,” she said. “You wanna do it?”
What the hell.
We’d talk about hiking and backpacking with your dog. I’d bring Trinity and her backpack. We’d talk about my book.
I’d still be at the pub by 7:45 p.m.
I went home to shower and get Trin ready.
“Uhh, how imperative is it that I bring Trin?” I called C-Lo at 5:30 p.m.
“Not at all, why?”
“She’s just puked for the second time today, and I don’t think that makes really good television.”
Fifteen minutes later – I’m just out of the shower with a half a Crazy 8 in me – C-Lo called back.
“Bring me a shot. Of anything.”
“What’s up?”
“The animals cancelled. It’s you and me. For 30 minutes.”
I can see this really going straight to hell.
So I stopped at the gas-and-sip on the way to the studio and bought another malt liquor, and a Smirnoff Ice for the host with the most, C-Lo.
We got replacement animals.
A woman who has an exotic bird rescue. She was to bring in a cockatoo and a mccaw.
I called everyone I could get on the phone and told them to witness what could be huge carnage.
And we were on.
Thirty minutes, no commercial breaks (this is, after all, cable access).
And it went great.
Until the woman with the birds came on.
First thing the cockatoo did was turn and shit down the arm of the chair.
Which made the cameramen laugh.
She handed the cockatoo to me, and she sat very nicely on my arm – and only went after my earring once.
Oh, and people kept calling my mobile all through the show. I had it on vibrate and it kept bizzing in my cargos.
“That’s a wrap,” the producer said and the cell bizzed again.
“I think we doubled the audience, we were all watching at work,” Airnboy said. “It was going great until the bird shit on the set.”
I disagree.
It was exactly the kind of thing you want to see on an animal program.
Maybe I should have brought Trin.
As in a 24-ounce Old English 800 (the “Crazy 8”).
“So, Gabbo, what are you doing at, say, six o’clock?” my friend C-Lo asked as she strode up to my desk at 4 p.m. Wednesday.
(Remember, kids play dumb when it comes to questions like this.)
“Uhhhhh, I dunno. I think I’m going for a ride. What’s up?”
C-Lo hosts a 30-minute cable access channel show called Animal-Tastic. It’s live. It’s got animals. It’s 15 minutes of an interview and call-in questions, then 15 minutes of animals up for adoption at the two local shelters.
“Our guest crapped out,” she said. “You wanna do it?”
What the hell.
We’d talk about hiking and backpacking with your dog. I’d bring Trinity and her backpack. We’d talk about my book.
I’d still be at the pub by 7:45 p.m.
I went home to shower and get Trin ready.
“Uhh, how imperative is it that I bring Trin?” I called C-Lo at 5:30 p.m.
“Not at all, why?”
“She’s just puked for the second time today, and I don’t think that makes really good television.”
Fifteen minutes later – I’m just out of the shower with a half a Crazy 8 in me – C-Lo called back.
“Bring me a shot. Of anything.”
“What’s up?”
“The animals cancelled. It’s you and me. For 30 minutes.”
I can see this really going straight to hell.
So I stopped at the gas-and-sip on the way to the studio and bought another malt liquor, and a Smirnoff Ice for the host with the most, C-Lo.
We got replacement animals.
A woman who has an exotic bird rescue. She was to bring in a cockatoo and a mccaw.
I called everyone I could get on the phone and told them to witness what could be huge carnage.
And we were on.
Thirty minutes, no commercial breaks (this is, after all, cable access).
And it went great.
Until the woman with the birds came on.
First thing the cockatoo did was turn and shit down the arm of the chair.
Which made the cameramen laugh.
She handed the cockatoo to me, and she sat very nicely on my arm – and only went after my earring once.
Oh, and people kept calling my mobile all through the show. I had it on vibrate and it kept bizzing in my cargos.
“That’s a wrap,” the producer said and the cell bizzed again.
“I think we doubled the audience, we were all watching at work,” Airnboy said. “It was going great until the bird shit on the set.”
I disagree.
It was exactly the kind of thing you want to see on an animal program.
Maybe I should have brought Trin.
Comments
Seriously, Thom, you saved the day. This TV stuff isn't for wimps. (Shoulda seen the dog brawl on the show last week...) Hope Trin's feeling better. I was about with her yesterday.
Next show is just a week away... Calgon!
CLo