Slow News Days

Many years ago, before I had moved to Maine, I was vacationing in New Hampshire and happened to be watching a TV station based in Portland. We had tuned into the evening news to catch the weather report, and at the end of the broadcast, the anchors had a few minutes to fill with banter. One of the anchors turned to the other and asked, "So, what can we look forward to hearing about on the 11 o'clock report?"

I was living in Boston at the time, and fully expected a rehash of the top stories with all their attendant blood and gore. Instead, the anchor to whom the question was directed looked a bit flustered, as if the question came by complete surprise. He stuttered a bit and then answered, "Not a whole lot."

Thus was my introduction to Maine "news."

It's been about 15 years since that incident, but a couple of recent "news" reports reminded me that things haven't changed all that much in that time. For instance, the other night in one of these news breaks that they slip in between the advertisements during prime-time, the news anchor cheerfully chirped, "Which Scout took the checkered flag at the Pinewood Derby? We'll tell you at 11!"

I don't know about you, but finding out which Boy Scout won a model car race is not quite the motivation I need to stay up until 11 p.m. on a weekday. I suppose the boys themselves and their families were counting the minutes, but that's about it.

The other incident was a similar "teaser" about what was to appear on the 11 p.m. news that night. It seems that the "big" story was about a couple of car thieves that stole a car from an auto dealership and drove it across the street right into the parking lot of the police station during a shift change. Stealing cars, that was news. During this preview, however, they ran a short video on the car theft story that included a close-up of the police station. Much to my amazement and amusement, the police station, and the whole car theft incident, was in Strongsville, Ohio, which is the town where I went to high school. It seems that the Bangor news was so dull that night that they had to resort to a humorous car theft incident 1000 miles away for their top story.

Of course, there are a lot of you out there in other parts of the country that are thinking I should count my blessings. My mother told me that she gave up watching the evening news because she was tired of all the violence night after night. And indeed, when I was last visiting, stories of murders and theft and the like filled the local newscast. I certainly don't long for those things around here. It would be nice, however, if the overenthusiatic TV stations would be more like the anchorman I witnessed 15 years ago and admit when there's not a whole lot of news to report.

Don't get me wrong, we are not crime or tragedy free here in Maine. We, too, have murders - an average of 25 a year. And domestic violence. And drunk drivers. And, more than any place else I've lived, we've got a lot of house fires. Too many faulty wood stoves and kerosene heaters, I suppose. But when you spread it out over the course of a year, you have maybe enough for two weeks worth or so of compelling newscasts. Can't the local stations think of something more interesting to do with the rest of the time?

I suspect that they could fill the full half hour with weather and not too many people would mind. People in Maine love the weather. They love to talk about it and complain about it and cuss at the weather forecasters. And these days, with all the animated weather maps and satellite imagery, watching the weather is almost like playing a video game. The only shortcoming with this plan that I can see is that it would be hard to call such a program "news" since, even with all the high-tech toys, it ends up not being much more than speculation.

Another problem with our local news is that we are in what is known as a small media market. When TV newsfolk look for jobs, they break in in the small media markets and then, if they have even an inkling of talent, they move up the ladder to increasingly larger media markets. As a result of our low media market standing, we tend to get the fresh-faced kids just out of college. Well, I assume they've gone to college - some of them look as if they're still in high school. A large part of the local news budget must go towards makeup to hide the acne on the faces of the youthful anchors.

It's not bad enough that we get the kid anchors, but just when you get used to them, they take off for a bigger market. It's a mind-boggling revolving door of youthful talking heads trying to pretend the Pinewood Derby is serious news. It seems to me that it would be far more efficient, and certainly more entertaining, if they just came up with some muppets to give the news. Not only would we have consistency in news anchors, but the muppets would could open up a whole new world of marketing opportunities. With brilliant ideas like this, it's just a matter of time before my new career as a media advisor takes hold.

Given the choice of watching the snow melt, watching the sap run, or watching the local news, I think I'd probably opt for one of the first two. But, then again, if it ever does get to the point where there is enough news to consistently fill a half hour, it will no doubt be time to move. I wonder who did win that Pinewood Derby?