FAMILY TIES THAT GRIND

Welcome to my promo. . . .

Here’s a great anecdote that will make you think I’m wonderful! You’ll love this. You’ll love me for telling it. And you’ll love The Times for letting me tell it.

A funny thing happened to me when I was a toddler in Kansas City. Mommy was getting me ready for a bath one morning when she briefly turned her back to test the water. That was long enough for me to lift my potty seat and put my head through the opening. Then I tried to remove the potty seat off my head. And are you ready?

My head was stuck.

Mommy tried and tried to pull my head out, but it wouldn’t budge. So she called the fire department. And are you ready?

About 10 minutes later, a big fire truck arrived at our apartment building and three burly firemen entered our flat. One of them had a saw, and he cut through the potty seat, freeing my head. And are you ready?

He told mommy that in all the years he’d been a fireman, he’d never seen anything like this. Then he and the other firemen laughed.

Isn’t that a swell anecdote? Doesn’t it show that I’m warm, lovable, cuddly, intensely human and worthy of respect as a profound journalist? Wouldn’t you like to have me over for dinner?

Next time, I’ll tell you about the time a dog ate my column.

It’s all part of life.

Excuse the modest production values. If the above was one of those news-anchor promos on KNBC-TV Channel 4, I’d have been sitting in the lush outdoors or in a big comfortable room, warmed by a roaring fire. And my story would have been capped by sweet music or orchestrated spontaneous off-camera laughter from my appreciative colleagues.

Let’s try it the print way:

(Editor’s note: Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, ho-ho-ho-ho-ho .)

Still locked in a competitive news-ratings battle with KABC-TV Channel 7, KNBC’s strategy is to present its anchorcasters as teddy bears. Competence is nice, huggability nicer.

Here’s the pitch: Just as TV series traditionally present America as an assembly line of big, fun-loving, eclectic families, Channel 4 anchors are supposed to be our extended brood, our very own “Family Ties.” They’re cute, cozy and rosy, benign and harmless, compassionate and understanding.

Who says that TV newscasts overdo violence and tumult? Not those lovable softies in the Channel 4 promos:

Click.

There in a forest is 4 p.m. anchorman/lumberjack John Beard talking about the Frasers, who remarried each other nine times. “They’re divorced right now, but they are dating again. Dr. Fraser says that when you have this much china, you oughta be together.”

Dab those eyes. “Well,” says that hopeless romantic Beard, “it’s all part of life.”

Click.

There is Colleen Williams talking about funny names. She reports that a Charlotte Benson joined the Navy and became Ensign Benson. And when she married a man whose family name was Scarlet, “Ensign Benson became Charlotte Scarlet.”

“It’s all a part of life,” adds weekend anchorwoman Williams who, if wed to a Mr. Schmolleen, would be known as Colleen Schmolleen.

Is this irresistible, or what?

What’s really fascinating about this promo is Williams’ euphoria. She’s lit up, simply radiant, as if Ensign Benson were the highlight of her journalistic career. You can almost hear the Channel 4 headline: “Ensign Benson Becomes Charlotte Scarlet, and our Colleen Williams has the exclusive story.”

There are more such news promos, of course, including such yarncasters as 5 p.m./11 p.m. anchorman Keith Morrison and weathercomic Fritz Coleman telling their own man-bites-dog stories.

News promos covered Channel 4 like tinsel during Yuletime, as the station gathered its anchors on a holiday set and had them tell each other anecdotes designed to make them more appealing as newscasters.

Sportscaster Fred Roggin:

“When we were young we would get together with our cousins around Hanukkah time. We would say prayers, we would light menorahs, and all the kids would go running and screaming through the house. . . . There were great memories involved, except for one year. My cousin, Larry, had a bow and arrow, and he shot me with it.”

Reaction off camera: “Ooooooh.”

Roggin: “Maybe that’s why I don’t do many archery stories anymore.”

Reaction: “HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

In another promo, 4 p.m. anchor Kirstie Wilde recalled looking for Christmas cookies. Was her search successful? she was asked by someone off camera.

“No,” Wilde replied.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

Beard was back with a kid-thinks-his-own-clothes-are-Santa Claus tale.

” . . . right there beside the bed, Santa Claus, watching me sleep. So I couldn’t go anywhere . . . My brother and sister downstairs opening up the gifts. Finally, my dad comes in to see what’s wrong. It turns out it’s some clothes over the chair and it looked like Santa in the dim light. If my dad hadn’t come in there, I probably would have been in bed till Easter . . . at least.”

Cute. But what’s the message here, that viewers should tune to Beard the newscaster because he once thought his clothes were Santa Claus? What does all of this have to do with anything?

Everything, unfortunately.

These news promos are the bright lights of celebrity journalism, wherein the message is used as a stage for the messenger.

It’s happening everywhere, from networks to the lowest of local news. I once saw a news promo in a middle-sized city showing an anchorman romping with his white dog. The anchorman was a former network correspondent with lots of experience and smarts, but lacked on-camera warmth. So the station tried to sell him as a man with a dog. A year later, man and dog were working in another city.

In Los Angeles, Channel 7’s news promos are just as sentimental, familial and manipulative as Channel 4’s. Get a gander at those oozy musical spots (“We belong together . . . together we will be this season”) showing such Channel 7 luminaries as Jerry Dunphy sailing and Tawny Little nuzzling and squeezing her little kitty.

Awwwwww . . . .

Newspapers are hardly novices at self promotion. Anyone attending theatrical movies in Los Angeles won’t have missed those ads for The Times singling out individual reporters. The pitch is good journalism, though, not contrived warmth or kitties.

It used to be that local stations advertised their anchors as journalists (as networks still do) trench-coating their way through big stories, which may have been dishonest in most cases, but at least showed a certain purpose and awareness.

The Channel 4 promos represent today’s hotter ticket--geniality to the extreme. The goal is to be pal-like and inoffensive. And no one at Channel 4 fills the role better than 6 p.m. anchor Linda Alvarez, who’s mastered the art of reporting tragedy and disaster in a pleasing way.

Brows lifted like the Golden Arches, a “pleasing” expression on her face, she gives you the same look whether the story is about a shaggy dog or an earthquake. Though disorienting, it does make misery more fun.

And then there is Keith Morrison, the Don Ho of anchors, so relaxed and tranquil that he almost croons the news.

I caught Morrison’s news promo the other day. He seemed to be in a wooded area, too, telling a story that I can’t recall, except that it was seamless and meatless and he said that it was “part of life.”

What nice anchors.

You have to be impressed by the yarn-spinning skill of the Channel 4 affables. They perform so well in these promos. And why not? It’s what most anchors do best. It’s not that they aren’t nice or intelligent or serious about what they do. Most are some of the above, at least. But this--telling stories and being pleasant-- is what they do.

At a time of increased talk about local newscasts usurping the role of network newscasts, it’s helpful to note what local stations see as their most promotable qualities. At Channel 4, it seems to be good feelings over good journalism.

It was a warm night in July--before newsroom computers had replaced typewriters--when a dog ate my column. It was all part of life. Still, I was ticked off.