A Monday in the last century. Watching a mid-morning broadcast on KTNA. The female anchor is reading a story. Reading and reading and reading. And reading. I start to sit up in my director’s chair. Having worked the dawn patrol on a previous broadcast myself, I’m now questioning whether the something on the rocks at 11:34 in the morning has fermented or if something is happening on air. It’s both.

I start to sit up. The female anchor is reading a long and protracted story. No video. No full screen graphic. Just this woman reading and reading and reading when suddenly off-camera you hear the male counterpart also known as the ass component of KTNA say out loud, “Liza Minnelli is dead?!” I jolt up. The female anchor, still reading, jolts up. Her eyes widen and her brow furrows.

She keeps reading.

Finally, finally the story ends and the female anchor turns…