A fellow broadcaster and I were swapping texts the other day. Superficial stuff. Hi. How are you? What are you up to? The messages turned into future assignments.
This person was questioning the desire to go back out on the campaign presidential cycle for the third time. This person was already a veteran of 2016 and 2020. I was surprised. I know the travel, the deadlines, and the logistics are tough. I will add the hostility of the crowds, and the iron fists of the candidate handlers. They do their best to limit access, and have their candidates give the same, tired, old scripted answers. It's not as much fun as it used to be.
I offered that it's tough to turn your back on having a front row to history. Every campaign is unique in its own way. This person realizes that, but is still on the fence. This person has the gift. For your sake, for the viewers' sake, I hope this person soon packs a suitcase and gets out there.
On a similar note, I was on my way to cover the annual Solemn Novena to St. Ann last week in Scranton.
I've covered more than two dozen novenas over the years, probably closer to thirty. I had a knot in my stomach as we drove north on Main and made the turn on to St. Ann's Street. What could I say that I haven't said before? Can I make this interesting? Relatable? I grabbed the microphone and with photographer Tim at my side, we simply started talking to people. Everyone has a story, and people attending the novena are happy to share theirs. I didn't have to do the heavy lifting, or the heavy thinking. Let the people talk. Let the story breathe.
When it was over, I had a pretty good story, and I walked out of the office that afternoon with my head held high.
St Ann's, I hope to see you again next year.
