Retirement: I Am Not Yet Sure What That Means.
But it doesn’t mean sitting on my tail
Note: You can click on the underlined words for more detail.
I was six years old when I first appeared on live TV. I was enamored with puppets, and a friend of the family was a puppeteer on the after-school kids show at a local TV station in Ft. Worth, Texas. I was thrilled when she invited me to bring one of my own puppets to appear on the show with hers. I’ll never forget that day, not because I did anything to wow the TV audience, but because of the way the TV station environment wowed me. Fascinated by the cameras, the lights and the excitement of the live broadcast, enthralled with how the staff members worked as a team to create an engaging program, I decided then and there that television was for me.
Now, after a 44-year-long career in broadcasting, I am saying goodbye to the profession that has continued to wow me—a profession that supported my family, and one that gave me some of my best memories. But to be truthful, it also at times gave me enormous anxiety and probably more than a few of my many white hairs. Please allow me to reminisce.
It was at a small radio station in Denton, Texas where I first got paid to talk on the airwaves. I was a junior in college, spinning country records for minimum wage. It wasn’t my favorite music, but I came to appreciate it more in the two years I worked there, and at $2.30 an hour, it paid at least for some of my rent and textbooks. (The rest came from my other job at a commercial laundry which also paid minimum wage.) I have already shared some of my favorite memories about how I got that job by working for free in this blog.
After I graduated from college I headed out to West Texas where I took a job as a TV news reporter in San Angelo earning $125 a week. After three months I got a raise which finally provided enough money to afford air conditioning and heat in my apartment. In one month on the job I learned more about TV news than in four years of studying it in college, and I have shared a couple of those learning experiences, such as scaring the wits out of the future King of England and accidentally doing an entire half-hour TV newscast without a single image.
After less than a year at that job, I moved to Austin, Texas to anchor the evening news at a local TV station there. Six months into that stint, a news executive vacationing in Texas saw me on his hotel TV, called me at my workplace and offered me twice my meager salary to work at his station in Wichita, Kansas. Two weeks later I was there. I have written about some of my most embarrassing moments at that job and the low-tech lengths we went to get a story.
After three years in Wichita I accepted a post at a TV station in Seattle, WA. It was there that I stumbled into meteorology. (And, you guessed it, I wrote about that too, which you can read here.) After fourteen years I was laid off from that job after receiving a “voicemail from God” and got a similar position at another Seattle station. A few years later that station eliminated its news department and I was laid off again. That’s when I had the opportunity to move to Atlanta and The Weather Channel, providing weather information to the entire nation. (I recently chronicled my favorite parts of my 20+ year stint at TWC which you can read here.)
So as I head into this enigmatic season of unknowns called “retirement,” I have made two lists of memories—one of positive and fun times that I will certainly miss, and another list of memories that I gladly put in my rear-view mirror. These are not exhaustive lists, but represent some of the highlights (and lowlights) of my career.
What I won't miss
Overnight shifts (They call them “morning shifts,” but waking up at 2 AM seems more like overnight to me.)
The inevitable accidental misspeaks or word jumbles on live television that you can never take back…ever.
The social media haters who spend a surprising amount of their time and energy brutally critiquing TV folks for their accidental misspeaks (and anything else they deem to be less than perfect).
The “joke” that I'm “wrong 50% of the time” from the same people who'll pay good money for lottery tickets, or to cheer until they’re hoarse for baseball players with a .200 batting average.
Holding my tongue while someone lectures me on meteorology or climate based on some pseudo-scientific internet article of dubious origin.
Working the majority of Christmas Eves, Christmas Days, Thanksgivings and New Years Days over the past 44 years.
Okay, now that I’ve gotten that off my chest, here are some things I will miss:
Working with some of the smartest people I have ever known.
Answering questions from genuinely inquisitive people who want to learn.
Knowing I played at least a small role in keeping people out of harm’s way.
Meeting new and interesting people and having an immediate conversation starter with them.
When I could impress my kids no other way, at least having them think I had a cool job.
The adrenaline rush that occurs when that red light comes on the camera and I start talking.
Being the butt of jokes from some of the funniest people on the planet (Letterman, Colbert, Kimmel).
Answering a child’s question of "Are you famous?" with the joke "Apparently not!"
Getting paid for being wrong 50% of the time. (Just kidding! I am very proud to tell folks that studies show that most forecasts five days out have a 90% accuracy rate. The rate is even better 2-3 days out.)
Being constantly amazed at the power and mystery of our atmosphere and by the bravery and resilience of people adversely affected by it.
For those wondering what I plan to do with my life from this day forward, I’ll confess I’m not the kind of guy who is going to spend hours hitting golf balls or trout fishing. For now I plan on becoming more involved in the lives of my grandchildren, especially since their parents are adopting a deaf child from an orphanage in China. (A crash course in sign language is in my immediate future.) I plan to continue pursuing voiceover work for commercials and other broadcast media. I’ll continue making educational appearances as “The Weather Dude” and maintaining my weather web site for young people. And I will continue to write here about TV and anything else that pops into my mind. I hope to increase my output of both stories and songs, record more of my music, and incorporate more of my stories into podcasts. I also hope to spend more time doing volunteer storm cleanup in the wake of damaging hurricanes and tornadoes, and participating in various ministries at my church.
Of course I’ll still watch the changes in the weather and continue to be fascinated by nature, getting out in it as much as possible. But on a daily basis I’ll be more of an observer than an announcer, except to point out (to anyone who’ll listen) some of the natural phenomena and discoveries continuing to surface in the wide and fascinating world of weather. I hope you’ll check back here with me every couple of weeks on my “Tales from a Weathered Man” blog for a glimpse of what might be going on with me.
In the meantime, I think I’ll go play puppets with my grandkids.
© Nick Walker 2020
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