Missiles Don’t Buy Ad Spots

On a day in which nothing more important was happening in the world except that our country was going to war, the Buffalo Bills and the Dallas Cowboys found their way into the Super Bowl on Sunday.

I had to admire the way NBC kept its priorities straight. They waited for a lull in the action at Miami to bring up the news flash, then held off until halftime of the Dolphins-Bills game to give us Tom Brokaw and the pictures from the bombing of Baghdad. I don’t think we missed a punt.

You have to admire that kind of journalistic integrity. But I fell to thinking, “What if we’d had television in other moments of American history?”

I can see it now in the television offices of the Colonial Broadcasting System. The time is the 18th of April in ‘75--that’s 1775. The vice president in charge of daytime programming, Irving R. Demographics, is at his desk. He is wearing a three-cornered hat and powdered wig as he picks up the ringing phone.

“Hello? Who’s this? Oh, Paulie! Paul Revere. What’s happening, Babe? You been out riding all night? You been warning every Middlesex village and farm the redcoats are coming?

“Oh, you mean those funny-looking Brits with the block hats and buckle shoes? They got stopped by the farmers of Concord and Lexington? You think we should get cameras right up there?

“Paulie! You been following television? Then you know that we have this big Myrt and Marge wedding story today. Everybody in the country will be tuned in. Then, we have the Yale-Harvard canoe race. The ratings will go through the roof! We can’t interrupt programming like that for a little squabble out in the suburbs.

“What? It’s the start of the American Revolution? Paulie, Paulie! They told us that when they threw all the tea in the harbor. We got a lot of film of a lot of oolong floating past Cape Cod. All it meant was we had to have iced coffee the rest of the month.

“What? I know, I know you rode all night. But, Paulie, the only horse race I can sell on Madison Avenue is the Kentucky Derby. I can’t even get polo on ‘Wide World of Sports,’ how am I going to sell a one-horse race? Not even if John Wayne’s in the saddle.

“Tell you what you do, Paulie. You get your Polaroid and you take some shots and I’ll see if I can work them into the 11 o’clock news. Fritz likes to throw a little offbeat stuff in his weather report. Can’t you get the Brits to wait till Tuesday? What? You got this general named Washington coming down? See if you can get him to shorten that name down, Paulie. I mean, it’s too long for a headline. Who’s going to name a town--or even a shopping center--after a name that long?”

We shift now to 1861. As we look in, the chairman of the board of the Mason-Dixon network, J. Sterling Trivia, is on the hot line to the White House.

“Abe? How nice to hear from you! What can I do for you? The Confederates have opened fire on Ft. Sumter? What’s a Confederate, Abe? And, where’s Ft. Sumter. Sounds like a non-story to me, Abe.

“You want to go on network and warn the people that this means war? Abe, sleep on it, will you? I mean, don’t overreact. Just a bunch of hotheads having their fun.

“Abe, what you have to take into account is, we’re booked up solid for the Poughkeepsie Regatta. Let’s not get carried away here. Look at it this way: I give you a spot to mobilize the northern people, I got to give that what’s-his-name? Jefferson Davis? equal time. I mean, we got our Dixie affiliates to think of.

“How about if I get you on ‘The Larry King Show?’ He’s got a spot open next Tuesday. I could try for Monday, but he’s got that actor on that night, fellow by the name of John Wilkes Booth. Abe.

“Abe! I know you think it’s important. But ask yourself--who was it put the Lincoln-Douglas debates on? I know it was tape-delay but, Abe, we took a ratings bath. B-o-o-r-r-i-n-g! I know it was politically correct. I got a network to run, you just got the union to worry about. Trust me. Ten years from now, nobody will remember Ft. Sumter. But the winner of the Poughkeepsie Regatta will be a legend forever. Maybe, he’ll have his own Memorial in the capitol.”

OK, the date now is Dec. 7, 1941, at the network offices of Pyle O’Scrap, news director for the Pox Broadcasting System. As we look in, he is screaming into the phone.

“What do you mean, the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor! You mean they bought it, don’t you? Where in hell is Pearl Harbor? What is it? Wait a minute! You sure you didn’t just tune into one of those Orson Welles ‘War of the Worlds’ broadcasts?

“They’re just shooting a movie out there, is what it is! You’re trying to tell me the Japanese fleet got within a hundred miles of Hawaii without anyone noticing? Gidoudda here! They got surfers go out farther than that.

“Hey! Do you realize we got the Bears-Cardinals game on! Sid Luckman, Bill Osmanski, Norm Standlee. You think I’m going to cut into that to put a little misunderstanding in the Pacific on the air? The Japanese were probably only making a political statement, if what you tell me is true. See what you can find out and maybe I can get it on ‘Nightline.’ Or ‘Phil Donahue.’ Where you been anyway? Sex and sports is selling. Not war.”

Far-fetched? OK, how about this: It’s 1993. We’re in the programming offices of NBC. The man in charge is on the phone.

“What? We’ve launched cruise missiles on Baghdad? Oh, no! Not now! We’ve got the final Super Bowl playoff! We’re paying a billion for the rights to these things and we got all the spots sold! Couldn’t we get them to wait a day? Who’s our man in the Pentagon? What’re we paying him for?

“OK! OK! Here’s what we do: We get them to call a TV timeout at the game in Miami, we cut to commercial. Then, we give Brokaw 90 seconds to bring them the flash. Then, we get right back to the game! Right back! It’s very important we don’t miss a play.

“Then, at the half, we cut away from the dancing girls and the marching bands spelling out God Bless America and we get Brokaw in there with all those pictures of antiaircraft fire and sounds of sirens. We got nine minutes until the teams come back on the field! Synchronize your watches, gentlemen! God! Why do wars have to start on Sundays!”