Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Roger Clark: Whirling Dervish
Roger makes my head spin. One day I find myself laughing at/with him as I did on Friday when he attended a Pilates convention and was repeatedly assaulted by a wigged out old instructor with one name who kept bending him over a horse to stretch out his back. Poor Clark, bright red and sweaty, pointed at his substantial belly and tried to make small talk about reducing his gut, only to find himself being bent over the horse again. One-Name didn't want to chat, she wanted to stretch and Rog had no choice but to comply.
Monday rolls around and I turn on NY1 with a smile already plastered on my face anticipating a morning kick-off of pure Roger. What gaffs did he have in store for us? I could hardly wait. The second I saw the suit...and tie...I knew I was in for something serious. Tragically, a pet store had caught fire and many animals had been killed. Roger, and his heart and belly full of gold, almost cried on camera. Wet kittens wrapped in towels being comforted by locals was a horrible sight to behold and our man Roger covered the story with gravity. Ed Murrow in the midst of the Blitz couldn't have done it better.
This morning, I kept one eye closed as I turned on the tube. Tuesday is a grim enough day without having the one news guy you turn to for levity near tears. It's like watching Santa Claus cry or drink himself to death. But Roger didn't let me down today. Today he was covering the 10th anniversary of Pokemon at Bryant Park and kicked off the piece making some poor sap in a life-sized Pikechu costume wiggle its ears before diving into its chest and murmuring "I love you." He could have wrapped up right there, but the best was yet to come. After a brief chat with a guy who teaches kids how to score at Pokemon (sadly I don't think I ever realized it was an actual game), he interviewed a boy who looked not unlike Nicholas from "Eight Is Enough." When Roger asked him where he was from and the kid told him Forest Hills, Roger practically had a heart attack and whacked the kid Elaine Bennis-from-"Seinfeld"-style in solidarity (Clark is from Forest Hills). The kid, not knowing what other bizarre things the lunatic with the microphone might do, just shifted his eyes perhaps waiting for Child Services to show up. Roger excitedly asked if the boy goes to P.S. 175. He monotoned"P.S. 174" in response and shifted his eyes again (where are the cops when you need them). Clark knew that bonding time, at least with a human, was over so he signed off with his head buried in big Pikechu's shoulder. Mascots don't argue.
Monday rolls around and I turn on NY1 with a smile already plastered on my face anticipating a morning kick-off of pure Roger. What gaffs did he have in store for us? I could hardly wait. The second I saw the suit...and tie...I knew I was in for something serious. Tragically, a pet store had caught fire and many animals had been killed. Roger, and his heart and belly full of gold, almost cried on camera. Wet kittens wrapped in towels being comforted by locals was a horrible sight to behold and our man Roger covered the story with gravity. Ed Murrow in the midst of the Blitz couldn't have done it better.
This morning, I kept one eye closed as I turned on the tube. Tuesday is a grim enough day without having the one news guy you turn to for levity near tears. It's like watching Santa Claus cry or drink himself to death. But Roger didn't let me down today. Today he was covering the 10th anniversary of Pokemon at Bryant Park and kicked off the piece making some poor sap in a life-sized Pikechu costume wiggle its ears before diving into its chest and murmuring "I love you." He could have wrapped up right there, but the best was yet to come. After a brief chat with a guy who teaches kids how to score at Pokemon (sadly I don't think I ever realized it was an actual game), he interviewed a boy who looked not unlike Nicholas from "Eight Is Enough." When Roger asked him where he was from and the kid told him Forest Hills, Roger practically had a heart attack and whacked the kid Elaine Bennis-from-"Seinfeld"-style in solidarity (Clark is from Forest Hills). The kid, not knowing what other bizarre things the lunatic with the microphone might do, just shifted his eyes perhaps waiting for Child Services to show up. Roger excitedly asked if the boy goes to P.S. 175. He monotoned"P.S. 174" in response and shifted his eyes again (where are the cops when you need them). Clark knew that bonding time, at least with a human, was over so he signed off with his head buried in big Pikechu's shoulder. Mascots don't argue.
# posted by Unknown @ 8:44 AM 
