Lost my production virginity last night. Yep, produced my first live show. Sure, it was just cable. But even on cable you can have what I believe gentlemen call a 'clusterfuck'. Consider:

Believing I have all the show elements in place I saunter into the building 75 minutes before the start of the show. I discover someone has given me more promos. Neme probleme, there's ample time! I set about changing the script to accomodate them and then go to cut them in. And discover they're the ones I already used. Can't use 'em. So I go change the script back and redistribute it to the all-new volunteer crew. 30 minutes left now. Whew! Now we're ready.

'Lisa, the script didn't get into the prompter, there's no fucking script for the host'. 'Lisa, what tape are the streeters on?' 20 minutes now. 'Lisa, what's the correct credit for Lorna whatsertoque, the blabla foundation, and the other thing?' 10 minutes now. 'Lisa, is this the right story cued up for this segment?' No it is not. 5 minutes. Now we're fine. Fine.

'Lisa, where's the CD with the theme music?'

'Lisa?'

I tear upstairs and start rifling through the CDs, followed closely by the 'executive producer' (the short, red-faced guy who runs the joint). He calmly reaches up to the highest shelf to pluck a disc and unleashes a torrent of media on our heads. For a blinding moment there's a hailstorm of jewelcases. 'Jesusfuckingarglebarglecrapfuck!' His head is actually bleeding. 2 minutes.

I realize that finding the right CD is no longer a possibility. Any CD will do. How about... this one? Nope, barking dogs. This one? Nope, insanely triumphant rock and roll guitar solo. OK, this one. One minute.

The music I have chosen will be used for everything in the show, including the 'never, ever shake a baby or it will die' bumper. It sounds like a muzak cover of a muzak cover of Peter, Paul and Mary.

All in all, I'd have to say it was a success. Stuff went to air and I'll get a few greasy loonies for it.