Whistlestop
[aidan_mutou gets a gig as a "real reporter" while yugi_mutou gathers further evidence for his Theory of Grandpa.
Backdated to Sept. 19th through Sept. 28th, 2008.]
~~~
"This whistle stop tour the Greens are doing sounds like a great way to see the country," Aidan said, sounding a little wistful despite himself. "I don't think my 'journalist' credentials would get me in, though."
Yugi leaned over his shoulder to read the article. "You could always pretend to be from the National Post," he teased. "'Oh, you thought the Post wasn't sending anyone? Oh, well, they changed their minds. What's that? Draconian dress code? It doesn't apply to train travel.'"
Aidan laughed. "Yeah, that wouldn't work for five minutes and you know it." His brother just grinned at him. They both knew full well that Aidan would never stoop so low as to pass himself off as one of the right-wing ultra-conservative paper's reporters just to get near a story. "I just need to sneak in with the pack of CBC reporters, like Geri Hall did."
"I bet Grandpa knows someone at the CBC," Yugi offered.
"I'm sure he does," Aidan replied drily. "But it's kinda short notice -- both to get to Vancouver, and for them to hire me to do election coverage in the next three days."
"Wouldn't hurt to call him."
Exchanging glances with his brother, Aidan raised an eyebrow. His gaze fell back to the screen, without really seeing the words. "Yeah," he said. A long pause followed while he mulled over the idea. "Especially if he knows someone at The Hour. I would love to work with George. ... Even if he is married, alas." Realizing he'd actually vocalized the last thought, he looked up at his brother with a sheepish grin.
"Should I buy you a 'Mrs. Stroumboulopoulos' t-shirt?" Yugi inquired.
Aidan gave the idea a moment's serious consideration. "Maybe? But the joke's gotten old; shouldn't wear it to work."
"True -- if you do get to work with him. But first you need to call Grandpa."
Two phone calls, one email exchange, and an hour later, Aidan had an appointment booked at the CBC office in Toronto for later that afternoon, and a reminder that the rest was 'up to him'. Not that he was likely to forget that.
Yugi had new evidence for a long-suspected Theory of Grandpa: that the old man somehow managed to be only two degrees of separation from any key contact, always knowing someone who knew someone important enough to let him -- or those few he would vouch for -- simply bypass mythical amounts of red tape and social hierarchy. It was almost scary in a "what if this power was used for the wrong reasons" sense, perhaps in the same vein as (if maybe not on the order of) teleportation and time-travel. Perhaps it was more dangerous, in that it was far more insidious, and probably a lot more energy-efficient than bending the laws of physics.
~*~*~
"We weren't going to send anyone. I mean, the ceeb has a couple of second-stringers going already."
"But this is The Hour. You're supposed to be more in touch with Canadian interests, and the Greens are by far the most interesting party in this election," Aidan argued. The Hour's initial cool factor had been largely dependent on the charisma of the man he was talking to, but it had taken on a life of its own, much like the Mercer Report or 22 Minutes.
"My hands are tied. The budget is what it is."
It wasn't that the door was being slammed in his face, Aidan realized. It was a challenge -- an invitation to debate the issue -- that made him respect the 'talkshow host' all the more. With a thoughtful sound, he mentally reviewed his finances. Money wasn't an issue: he and Yugi had done very well at the casinos over the summer. Neither of them would need to find paying work for months. "Then I'll pay for the ticket, and meals, and you can pay me for the story, if you can use it."
"So what do you get out of it?"
"A press badge." Aidan smiled. "And a chance to be part of something that calls to the mythic resonances of our national identity."
Aidan could almost see the wheels turning, connections forming, as the other man grasped the idea and ran with it, turning and spinning it and considering how to play it for his show. It was that impressively quick thinking on his feet that made him such an effective interviewer with a TV camera (or six) lurking over his shoulder. There was a lot Aidan could learn from him -- more so than he'd realized just from watching the show.
"You're good. Get me something I can spin off the Time Capsule and I'll make sure the story gets heard."
"I promise it'll be an angle no one else can offer," Aidan replied. And told himself firmly to set aside the less-than-professional aspects of his interest in his new 'boss'.
~*~*~
Google turned up an archived PDF excerpt from Peter C. Newman's Here Be Dragons -- a chapter entitled Whistle-stopping with the Chief: Diefenbaker's last stand. Aidan printed a copy before he left and read it while he sat waiting for the plane to Vancouver. Five pages gave a clear picture of the last great political train journey, and left him somehow melancholy. The prose, the style -- it was incredibly effective.
He read it again on the plane, bent over the table tray, marking the printout with highlighter and small notes jotted in pen. Connections whirled and danced at his fingertips. One article alone was not sufficient research, but it was such rich ground he was loathe to look beyond it too soon. Newman had captured the essence of the myth. It remained to be seen how much of it Elizabeth May would be able to recreate, especially given the vast ideological differences between a Conservative leader fighting to stay in the House and an Environmentalist fighting to get in the door.
They had one thing in common: both were trying to reach the people. Both were trying to make a connection with those who believed they were largely ignored by Ottawa.
~*~*~
Twitter was the modern solution to the telegram, Aidan quickly realized. As long as there was a cellular signal, he tweeted short notes and commentary. Often it was quicker and easier than tracking down pen, Post-it, and flat surface for scrawling on.
It lacked the steam-punkish flair of holding an envelope at arm's length on the caboose platform, waiting for a telegraph operator to pluck it from his fingers with "pincer-like gizmos", but that was hardly an option any more.
You could tell a lot of story in 140 characters or less, if you were careful with words.
~~~
~*~*~
When the Green's tour ended in Halifax, Aidan disappeared into the local CBC studios. With storyboard and narrative done, he hashed out the details of his vision with the AV teams. Video clips had to be seamed together; archive footage and stills combined with fresh coverage of Ms. May's speeches. The voiceover had to be recorded and rerecorded, clipped and tweaked and edited until the timing was perfect. Hours flew by unnoticed: it had to be done fast, and it had to be done right. Aidan owed a lot of people favours by the time he was done, given that he had no official budget and no guarantee that the short documentary would even air. His passion for the topic inspired them. Together they crafted a Thing of Beauty. It would do The Hour proud.
In the end, it wouldn't influence the election, but it was an amazing piece of journalism.
~*~*~
"Much as I'd like to, I can't put you on staff."
Aidan nodded. "I understand." Not that he wasn't a little disappointed, but he hadn't really expected more. Getting the one story had been a stroke of luck and timing.
"CBC Radio is looking for new content for their podcasts, though. I can put in a word for you if you're interested."
"Thanks," Aidan replied, switching quickly from surprise to curiosity. "I hadn't considered radio before, but it could be interesting."
"You've got a good voice for it. And your media instincts are pretty damn sharp."
He couldn't ask for a much higher compliment than that, given who it came from. With a warm smile, Aidan thanked him again, managing (barely) not to be too much of a fanboy.
Walking out the door didn't feel like an ending; there were new threads to follow.
###
References, for the curious (and for Aidan's archive)
Green Party Whistle Stop Tour coverage:
Globe & Mail: Sept 15
The Star: Sept 16
CTV: Sept 21
Metro: Sept 22 (5am)
The Star: Sept 22 (2pm)
Macleans: round-up
###
Backdated to Sept. 19th through Sept. 28th, 2008.]
~~~
"This whistle stop tour the Greens are doing sounds like a great way to see the country," Aidan said, sounding a little wistful despite himself. "I don't think my 'journalist' credentials would get me in, though."
Yugi leaned over his shoulder to read the article. "You could always pretend to be from the National Post," he teased. "'Oh, you thought the Post wasn't sending anyone? Oh, well, they changed their minds. What's that? Draconian dress code? It doesn't apply to train travel.'"
Aidan laughed. "Yeah, that wouldn't work for five minutes and you know it." His brother just grinned at him. They both knew full well that Aidan would never stoop so low as to pass himself off as one of the right-wing ultra-conservative paper's reporters just to get near a story. "I just need to sneak in with the pack of CBC reporters, like Geri Hall did."
"I bet Grandpa knows someone at the CBC," Yugi offered.
"I'm sure he does," Aidan replied drily. "But it's kinda short notice -- both to get to Vancouver, and for them to hire me to do election coverage in the next three days."
"Wouldn't hurt to call him."
Exchanging glances with his brother, Aidan raised an eyebrow. His gaze fell back to the screen, without really seeing the words. "Yeah," he said. A long pause followed while he mulled over the idea. "Especially if he knows someone at The Hour. I would love to work with George. ... Even if he is married, alas." Realizing he'd actually vocalized the last thought, he looked up at his brother with a sheepish grin.
"Should I buy you a 'Mrs. Stroumboulopoulos' t-shirt?" Yugi inquired.
Aidan gave the idea a moment's serious consideration. "Maybe? But the joke's gotten old; shouldn't wear it to work."
"True -- if you do get to work with him. But first you need to call Grandpa."
Two phone calls, one email exchange, and an hour later, Aidan had an appointment booked at the CBC office in Toronto for later that afternoon, and a reminder that the rest was 'up to him'. Not that he was likely to forget that.
Yugi had new evidence for a long-suspected Theory of Grandpa: that the old man somehow managed to be only two degrees of separation from any key contact, always knowing someone who knew someone important enough to let him -- or those few he would vouch for -- simply bypass mythical amounts of red tape and social hierarchy. It was almost scary in a "what if this power was used for the wrong reasons" sense, perhaps in the same vein as (if maybe not on the order of) teleportation and time-travel. Perhaps it was more dangerous, in that it was far more insidious, and probably a lot more energy-efficient than bending the laws of physics.
~*~*~
"We weren't going to send anyone. I mean, the ceeb has a couple of second-stringers going already."
"But this is The Hour. You're supposed to be more in touch with Canadian interests, and the Greens are by far the most interesting party in this election," Aidan argued. The Hour's initial cool factor had been largely dependent on the charisma of the man he was talking to, but it had taken on a life of its own, much like the Mercer Report or 22 Minutes.
"My hands are tied. The budget is what it is."
It wasn't that the door was being slammed in his face, Aidan realized. It was a challenge -- an invitation to debate the issue -- that made him respect the 'talkshow host' all the more. With a thoughtful sound, he mentally reviewed his finances. Money wasn't an issue: he and Yugi had done very well at the casinos over the summer. Neither of them would need to find paying work for months. "Then I'll pay for the ticket, and meals, and you can pay me for the story, if you can use it."
"So what do you get out of it?"
"A press badge." Aidan smiled. "And a chance to be part of something that calls to the mythic resonances of our national identity."
Aidan could almost see the wheels turning, connections forming, as the other man grasped the idea and ran with it, turning and spinning it and considering how to play it for his show. It was that impressively quick thinking on his feet that made him such an effective interviewer with a TV camera (or six) lurking over his shoulder. There was a lot Aidan could learn from him -- more so than he'd realized just from watching the show.
"You're good. Get me something I can spin off the Time Capsule and I'll make sure the story gets heard."
"I promise it'll be an angle no one else can offer," Aidan replied. And told himself firmly to set aside the less-than-professional aspects of his interest in his new 'boss'.
~*~*~
Google turned up an archived PDF excerpt from Peter C. Newman's Here Be Dragons -- a chapter entitled Whistle-stopping with the Chief: Diefenbaker's last stand. Aidan printed a copy before he left and read it while he sat waiting for the plane to Vancouver. Five pages gave a clear picture of the last great political train journey, and left him somehow melancholy. The prose, the style -- it was incredibly effective.
He read it again on the plane, bent over the table tray, marking the printout with highlighter and small notes jotted in pen. Connections whirled and danced at his fingertips. One article alone was not sufficient research, but it was such rich ground he was loathe to look beyond it too soon. Newman had captured the essence of the myth. It remained to be seen how much of it Elizabeth May would be able to recreate, especially given the vast ideological differences between a Conservative leader fighting to stay in the House and an Environmentalist fighting to get in the door.
They had one thing in common: both were trying to reach the people. Both were trying to make a connection with those who believed they were largely ignored by Ottawa.
~*~*~
Twitter was the modern solution to the telegram, Aidan quickly realized. As long as there was a cellular signal, he tweeted short notes and commentary. Often it was quicker and easier than tracking down pen, Post-it, and flat surface for scrawling on.
It lacked the steam-punkish flair of holding an envelope at arm's length on the caboose platform, waiting for a telegraph operator to pluck it from his fingers with "pincer-like gizmos", but that was hardly an option any more.
You could tell a lot of story in 140 characters or less, if you were careful with words.
~~~
~*~*~
When the Green's tour ended in Halifax, Aidan disappeared into the local CBC studios. With storyboard and narrative done, he hashed out the details of his vision with the AV teams. Video clips had to be seamed together; archive footage and stills combined with fresh coverage of Ms. May's speeches. The voiceover had to be recorded and rerecorded, clipped and tweaked and edited until the timing was perfect. Hours flew by unnoticed: it had to be done fast, and it had to be done right. Aidan owed a lot of people favours by the time he was done, given that he had no official budget and no guarantee that the short documentary would even air. His passion for the topic inspired them. Together they crafted a Thing of Beauty. It would do The Hour proud.
In the end, it wouldn't influence the election, but it was an amazing piece of journalism.
~*~*~
"Much as I'd like to, I can't put you on staff."
Aidan nodded. "I understand." Not that he wasn't a little disappointed, but he hadn't really expected more. Getting the one story had been a stroke of luck and timing.
"CBC Radio is looking for new content for their podcasts, though. I can put in a word for you if you're interested."
"Thanks," Aidan replied, switching quickly from surprise to curiosity. "I hadn't considered radio before, but it could be interesting."
"You've got a good voice for it. And your media instincts are pretty damn sharp."
He couldn't ask for a much higher compliment than that, given who it came from. With a warm smile, Aidan thanked him again, managing (barely) not to be too much of a fanboy.
Walking out the door didn't feel like an ending; there were new threads to follow.
###
References, for the curious (and for Aidan's archive)
Green Party Whistle Stop Tour coverage:
Globe & Mail: Sept 15
The Star: Sept 16
CTV: Sept 21
Metro: Sept 22 (5am)
The Star: Sept 22 (2pm)
Macleans: round-up
###