Page 8 of Good Days Bad Days
This mom is funny, friendly, and encouraging. I’ve never experienced this kind of mom. I know today’s Betty may not be the same as tomorrow’s Betty, but I thought I was coming here to face a firing squad, to get closure and to say goodbye forever. What I never expected was to see my mom and actually like her—even if she can’t remember my name.
Chapter 4
Greg
April 9, 1969
WQRX Studios
Janesville, Wisconsin
“Give a warm welcome to Donald Hollinger, our new station manager,” Mark says, standing at the front of the conference room filled with our small cast and crew from WQRX. The employees erupt in aggressive applause, and it takes me a tick to join.
Don Hollinger takes Mark’s spot, hands clasped in front of him in a sign of gratitude. He’s young, a few years older than I am. Not a traditional-looking “bigwig.” Though he wears a suit and fancy silk tie, he also has a dense beard and hair that touches his ears.
We all know Don isn’t our friend. He’s from the new Epistle Broadcasting Network. EBN is a television network that intersperses nationally broadcast content with locally sourced news and programming. EBN bought out WQRX with the promise of taking us into the future of television, but we know this change will inevitably lead to layoffs and replacing the old guard with the new.
Yet, here we all are, cheering him on like he’s a returning hero.
Mr. Hollinger quiets the room before I can get more than a couple of claps in.
“Thank you. Thank you. What a warm welcome. I’m honored to be here officially at the helm of a ship you all have built and captained for a decade. We’d not be where we are at WQRX if it weren’t for the fine work you’ve all done here.” More applause. Don stops us and adds, “Yet more must be done. We are facing a new decade. Ninety-five percent of Americans now have a television in their home and look to their local stations for their news before a newspaper. We, my friends, carry that remarkable responsibility.”
If I were in a private room with Mark, I’d roll my eyes and we’d talk about what a blowhard this guy sounds like, coming from a national news network and lecturing us on our station’s importance. But I keep my head down like always.
Don continues.
“But we aren’t just here for news. We also want to provide entertainment. We’ll start some new special programming. For now, keep doing what you’re doing and keep focused on growth and change. Sound good?” Everyone claps gratefully, again. I join them briefly before Mark excuses us.
I follow my coworkers out of the conference room. Larry Torrence, our head anchor who thinks himself a local celebrity, is chatting with Don like they’re old friends. Mark gives me a brief look that I know means he’s dying to get away from both of them. I nod emphatically, glad that I’m not in a position requiring that I do all that hand shaking and fake friend kind of BS.
“Gosh, this is exciting,” Martha Smith says to me. Martha’s a bright, ambitious production assistant who started here before I did. If she were a man, she’d be at least an associate producer by now. I think Mark keeps assuming she’ll get married and leave the station to have kids, but Martha’s a staunch feminist, determined to have a career even if she has a family one day. I don’t know how we’d get on without her and her level head, so I’m glad she’s avoided Mark’s predictions.
“Uh, yeah,” I say to Martha, tongue-tied as usual.
“I heard Mr. Hollinger is taking pitches for new programming.” Martha’s eyes sparkle with excitement. Though she’s not beautiful in a traditional way like the women Mark drools over, when she’s alive with a new idea, she’s as beautiful as any woman I’ve laid eyes on.
“I ... I heard that, too.”
I push my hands into my pockets and keep walking toward the stairs, where she’ll go up to her office and I’ll go down to the studio where I have my locker.
“I think I’m gonna do it. Pitch, I mean. What do you think? Am I crazy?” I shake my head, confident in her abilities. “Oh, good. ’Cause I’m dying to try something new. To be honest, I was considering applying to KSTP-TV in Minnesota. They have an open producer position there and I was thinking I’d put my hat in the ring ...”
At the door to the stairwell, she stops to face me. I hate the idea of Martha leaving WQRX. Mark used to tell me I should ask her out, that he thought Martha had a “thing” for me, but it felt strange. I’d be asking out my own boss. Besides, what do I have to offer her? What would she see in me? I can’t imagine.
“So, what do ya think?” she asks, looking up at me. All I want to say isI think you should stay,but do I have any right to tell her what to do?
“I think ... I think they’d be lucky to have you.”
Martha’s eyebrow raises, and she tilts her head to the side as if she’s confused and a little hurt. I think she wanted me to tell her to stay. It’s possible Mark was right after all. Maybe I made a big mistake. My mouth goes dry like it always does in tense situations.
“Wait. So, you think I should go for the Minnesota job?”
“No,” I correct myself, stuttering, “I ... I think you’ll be great at whatever you try.”
“Ah. OK. Well, I think I’ll try to pitch a project here first.” She runs the toe of her pointed brown shoe over the lines in the linoleum and then adds, “Would you want to work on it with me? Like, pitch it together?”
“Me?” The question explodes out, unlike most of my responses.
