Learn, Grow, Adjust
"I have a proposition for you," he said, with such a serious look on his face I was positive I must be in trouble.
Three years earlier I had come to this place. A brand new building, all new equipment, lots of space, and it offered some of the most gorgeous views of any building I had ever worked in.
I was asked to come here. After years of working my way through broadcast newsrooms, I received an invitation to join this team. I accepted, because I knew the terms I asked for and received would be part of my next step in my broadcast evolution.
As part of my terms, I wanted to learn television broadcasting. Up to this point, I was a radio guy. I loved radio, and was very passionate about it, but I also knew I wanted to try television. My radio mentor had done television in his past, and had always tried to steer me away from it. So when I finally did get the opportunity to be on television, I thought telling him wouldn't go over well. I was wrong, he was proud.
This building housed both radio stations and a television station. So it seemed a natural place to get the "feel" for TV. My first few years there, I was all radio. Then came the moment described in the opening line.
"When you first came here, we made a deal that we'd teach you television," he continued, still sounding like the other shoe was about to drop...in a not-so-good way.
Then came the unexpected invitation. You see, I had always assumed that when it was time to train in television, I'd naturally begin as a reporter. I had been a reporter and news anchor on the radio, so this seemed like the easiest transition.
"You realize that most people learn television in much smaller markets than Seattle," Jim Tellis, the TV news director informed me. "With the exception of one, the talent here all began in markets the size of Yakima (Washington) or smaller."
He had set me up to expect the worst, then he delivered one of the biggest surprises of my career.
"How do you feel about training as a weather forecaster?" Jim asked sincerely.
I hummed a few a seconds, paused, then it hit me as he continued.
Three years earlier I had come to this place. A brand new building, all new equipment, lots of space, and it offered some of the most gorgeous views of any building I had ever worked in. I was asked to come here. After years of working my way through broadcast newsrooms, I received an invitation to join this team. I accepted, because I knew the terms I asked for and received would be part of my next step in my broadcast evolution.
As part of my terms, I wanted to learn television broadcasting. Up to this point, I was a radio guy. I loved radio, and was very passionate about it, but I also knew I wanted to try television. My radio mentor had done television in his past, and had always tried to steer me away from it. So when I finally did get the opportunity to be on television, I thought telling him wouldn't go over well. I was wrong, he was proud.
This building housed both radio stations and a television station. So it seemed a natural place to get the "feel" for TV. My first few years there, I was all radio. Then came the moment described in the opening line.
"When you first came here, we made a deal that we'd teach you television," he continued, still sounding like the other shoe was about to drop...in a not-so-good way.
Then came the unexpected invitation. You see, I had always assumed that when it was time to train in television, I'd naturally begin as a reporter. I had been a reporter and news anchor on the radio, so this seemed like the easiest transition.
"You realize that most people learn television in much smaller markets than Seattle," Jim Tellis, the TV news director informed me. "With the exception of one, the talent here all began in markets the size of Yakima (Washington) or smaller."
He had set me up to expect the worst, then he delivered one of the biggest surprises of my career.
"How do you feel about training as a weather forecaster?" Jim asked sincerely.
I hummed a few a seconds, paused, then it hit me as he continued.