internship part 1-ish: Frederick Wiseman.

I have an internship. Not paid, I've got payings coming from elsewheres, you can ask me about that sometime. But this internship: I can't be vague on this–I feel too blessed. I'm a researcher for RadioWest, a regional NPR program produced here. Take a taste of today's show to see how cool it is.

But I want you here with me, so please take part in my journal entry for today.

I wish I could explain the drive through the winterized canyon today, but there's no words for this magical weather event I saw over the reservoir. Someday I hope to go back and film it and know what it was. I got to Park City around 10:15 (when I was told to arrive at about 10:45), paid $6.00 to park because I didn't want to worry about time or parallel parking in the van. I was already nervous enough. My insides were jiggling around, I felt light headed and like I was going to puke–that horrible acid feeling like when I forget to take my antacids for a few days.

I walked in through the Kimball Arts Center's main door per Elaine's dierections and was pointed to some double doors at the far end of the foyer. What it looked like beyond those doors I could not imagine. There it was, my destiny, fifty feet away.

Perhaps I should explain that I hadn't yet met any of these people. I had an impulsive moment a week ago, I sent an email to Doug, and now I was starting my internship by showing up for a live recording of the show today.

It turns out my destiny was in a long room. I was at one end by a chalkboard wall (I cringe!!) and the microphone end of the table. At the other end were people.

"Hi," says a confused young lady, the other intern they've had for a while, just a few years older than me.
"I'm Marge..."
They all look up, it takes a moment, then–
"Marge, I'm Doug" (The host) "And I'm Elaine" (the producer)
"And that's Louis," says Doug pointing to the mustachioed man at the laptop near me.
Someone says (my head was whirling), "You'll have to pardon the mad scramble we're in right now (I was showing up just before the live show today), there might be some swearing."
"You just missed my swearing," says Louis.

Doug is in the zone going through his questions and notes. Elaine is trying to do something with a USB thumb drive and talking about printers, someone is bringing in a fifth laptop, and Louis and Cynthia are taking care of tech things.

"Can I help with anything?"
Another momentary pause as they all look up. "If I need anything you'll be the first to hear about it," says Elaine.

I sit down. A few minutes later I'm asked to adjust the thermostat. I'm at my post adjusting said thermostat when two people walk in. I turn around and see Frederick Wiseman. He's two feet away from me. I've been reading about him for years. He's great. He inspires me. He's two feet away from me. What do I do?

I sit down. So do FW and lady who was later identified as a Salt Lake film person and I can't remember her name at the moment.

I still feel like I could throw up.

Cynthia gets me a water cup so I sip and worry about spilling it over the electrical cords in front of me.

Out of the corner of my eye I keep looking over to FW but I don't think I can say anything. Do I, as a barely intern, merit speaking to him? I don't know what's proper etiquette. And what would I even say? "Hi" obviously doesn't work.....(?!?!?)

As you listen (because I know you will), know that during the last break I finished drinking the last of my water because I thought, "I've made it this far without creating some catastrophe, I should make sure I can't knock my water all over those microphone cords and ruin everything in the last five mintues."

He's so great looking, such a character. His eyes and his hair! I mean:

Now listen to the interview!!!