Let's run through some of the peanut gallery in the Introduction to Broadcasting course, shall we?
I've already mentioned Lanna Sexton, one who I liked to refer to as "the loud one" as she frequently announced her presence, her abilities, and her opinion. She was a short, dumpy troll-like girl that really caked on the makeup in those gaudy hues no one had ever seen before. Now that I'm committing her vague memory to text I sort of wish I had paid more attention to what she yammered about all those years ago. She was a bit older than most of us and had worked as a receptionist at a television station "back home." Somewhere along the road of that profession she decided she had what it took to work in front of the camera, though I can only assume this idea was not mutually shared by those in charge of programming. Perhaps she came to college to prove she had what it took? Her overall goal was to get on television and not sit through these classes but while she had "heard" about some of the things discussed in class, she couldn't explain them no matter how hard – or how loud – she tried.
Keith Holland was another person who looked a bit older than most the rest of the class, but not by much. His most recognizable feature was his voice, evidently having picked up a nicotine habit earlier in his life. Like Lanna, he too had worked in the "industry" though his background was actual radio work – he was a weekend DJ at some backwater pop station. While that hands-on experience did give him a certain edge over the rest of us, Keith's major hurdle was unlearning some of the murkier traits he had picked up from his paying job. Instructors such as Dr. Propel and Dr. Schapp tended to teach the fundamentals in the lab practicum courses and they wanted to make sure everyone – even Keith – understood the concept behind a procedure before attempting short cuts.
For most of the year I sat next to the attractive but clinically dense Ivy Rovers. With a pleasant, wide-eyed face that was looked perpetually amazed at every mundane thing that happened, Ivy assumedly signed up for this major because she thought it would be easy. I got the impression on more than one occasion she found herself wrong for that initial thought and was now in way over her head with radio wave diagrams and lighting technique theories. However she had nothing to fear: her sorority sisters would be bailing her out of any mishap.
There was also Stephen Cornell, a sort-of flamboyant kid with a flair for dramatics and who looked like singer Rick Astley's twin brother. Sitting in class, listening, Cornell would nod slowly with exaggerated motions at whatever was being said. More often than not this would then be followed by what I think Stephen perceived as questions, but were usually smart-ass reinterpretations of what Dr. Propel had just said.
(This conversation didn't happen but it gives you the idea of those that did.)
Propel lectures about the cardioid pickup pattern of a type of microphone.
Cornell raises his arm, extending his index finger to signal he requests the chance to speak.
Cornell: So you're saying the microphone picks up sound in a heart-shape pattern?
Propel answers yes without much fanfare, presumably masking his disdain.
I've never cared much for people who act over-interested in what's being said. It comes across as fake, or being sincerely insincere. Even with this penchant for overacting, Cornell never seemed to me to grasp a lot of what was going on – or he convincingly played dumb a lot during the practicum lab.
Finally, th’ Faith Healers were a underground pop act out of England in the early 1990s that featured musicians Tom Cullinan, Joe Dilworth, Ben Hopkin, and Roxanne Stephen. While they had class, none were in the class with me or the other four people I’ve mentioned above. The only real similarity is that, like the group of not so-imaginary people (none really friends), we’ve all broken up and gone our separate ways.
And what weird, wonderful journey it’s been.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
The People
(Tom Cullinan)
Th' Faith Healers
From the album Imaginary Friend
1994
Mother cries
when the people dies
I understand
I hold her hand
The puppet cries
when the people dies
I understand
I hold his hand
The people cries
when the people dies
I understand
I hold their hands
The people cry
when the people die
I understand
I hold their hands
Don't want a conscience, give me a reason
Don't want a conscience, give me a reason
Don't want a conscience, give me a reason
Don't want a conscience, give me a reason
