'I farted at the car.'

Since I left the news racket last July, I’ve had a lot more time on my hands to do the things I love: shear sheep, read romance novels, play with my puppets, and watch local television news. Of my four pastimes, the activity that doesn’t involve alliteration may be my favorite.
Not too long ago, my competitive juices would not have allowed me to be so forthcoming about my love of local television news. When you write for a living, anybody whose newsgathering toolbox includes a hairdryer and a pantsuit is the enemy.
I’m sure my former compatriots in the print media will agree with me that nothing ruins your day on the beat faster than the presence of a television camera crew. People freak out to be on TV. They’ll knock you and your little analog reporter’s notepad to the ground for the chance to catch the camera’s eye. It’s hard to get the attention of a source when the other reporter shows up on the scene in a helicopter with a dual Doppler strapped to his back. It used to hurt my feelings, but I’m over it now that I’ve retired.
The great thing about TV news is that it includes sound and moving images. They will never be able to give you the depth and important background you can get here in the newspaper, but the newspaper can’t give you the real sound of someone’s voice – and sometimes that’s crucial part of the story.
Take for instance a story last week on WYFF about the Anderson County Library security guard who fired a shot at a woman who had made off with a copy of something the library would have allowed her to have for free, assuming she had one of those super-exclusive things they call library cards.
My friends on TV would have video of the whole incident, but the staff forgot to put in a new tape after the library’s security tape had been subpoenaed in another case.
Despite the library being an apparent hot spot of criminal activity in Anderson, shooting at patrons is frowned upon by the sissy liberal higher-ups who run the library. They criticized the security guard for his decision-making, so the guard called the press to defend his actions. He said the woman tried to run him over and that’s when instinct took over.
This is how he was quoted in the Anderson Independent Mail: “She started forward slowly and then she hit me. That’s when I fired my weapon.”
Sounds like a pretty intelligent guy in the newspaper, right? Just your average rented security professional caught in the crossfire on another rough and tumble night on the corner of Reference and New in Large Print.
But on TV, we hear the words straight from the horse’s mouth without the filter of a reporter, an editor or the confines of the stodgy old English language.
“Ah puhled out ma wehpen and farted at the car,” the straight-faced guard told WYFF.
I can’t help but think that quote provides us with an essential piece of story missing from the newspaper’s account. With or without a gun, this guard is dangerous, and I think we can all understand why the woman was trying to flee the scene.