Tobacco Avenue

It was back in high school when I fell in love with television journalism: Mr. Hamilton’s social studies class, where we watched famous newscasts from around the globe.  And it was then that I realized if I ever wanted to rise to the level of the greats - Cronkite, Brokaw, Jennings - it would involve not only a solid news sense, but the journalistic demands of integrity, fairness and a high-grade hair gel.

Call it what you will - gel, product, wax, mousse, whatever.  If you don’t have it, don’t think for a second you’ll be taken seriously the next time someone in this city is murdered and it’s just you, the camera and thousands of Richmonders taking note of how the hair on your head is bound together in beautiful, glistening strands, without feeling heavy. 

Showing your audience and that creepy-looking dead guy a bit of respect starts with good hair.  I got other examples, too.

North Side, late November last year.  House burns to the ground.  Family of five barely escapes, rescued by Good Samaritan just walking by, runs into the house yelling and saves them all - you know the drill.  I’d only been in town a month from NBC9 in Milwaukee, but people here remembered that story because they got it from a single, respectable source: CBS6 and its hot-ass reporter with the tightly slicked hair doing the newscast.

Keyword there being “single.” 

Here’s another instance.  The other day I was out in Carytown to grab a bite with friends.  As soon as I stepped foot in the New York Deli, the questions began.  “Hey, aren’t you that guy from the news?”  “You’re the guy on 6, right?”  “Nice thing you did the other night on how to protect my children on the Internet.”  Nothing about my alcohol-free Fekkai for Men firm-hold hair gel, but I could tell they were thinking it.  How could they not when four ounces of that shit runs for $18.50?

And you thought gas was expensive.

Whenever we go “on the scene,” typically the cameraman looks for the best shots, either for B-roll or a quick standup, should we have time.  His job is making sure the lighting is correct - one, for ensuring that we get every crinkle and crease of some poor bastard’s car wreckage, and two, to guarantee the sun correctly refracts from the top of the perfectly-sculpted bristles protruding from my cranium. 

We’re live at the scene, exclusively from Channel 6, I look frigging fantastic and tune in at 11 for our next tip: how a bit of foundation on the face isn’t just for the ladies.