Moving on is tough

  I started working at WPRI 12 in Providence as, Creative Services Editor, almost 9 years ago.  When I walked in the doors of that oddly shaped triangular building  I didn't know what to expect.  I had interviewed at TV stations in Hartford, a larger market, where the pay is higher and in my home state prior to deciding to go to Providence.  In fact if I torpedoed my final interview at one of those stations because the opportunity in Rhode Island seemed better. I could feel it in my bones, moving to WPRI was the right decision.

  I fit in with the motley crew at the station immediately.  My co-worker Beth and I connected because of our mutual love for music and her magnetic personality.  James, a pro wrestling "mark" like myself were fast friends always discussing the soap opera that is WWE Monday Night Raw.  Matt was for me the Obi Wan of the department.  He taught me a lot, and was a video geek like me.  Ric, the long time videographer, who tells the best stories, and who I had met a few times prior at my old station WWLP just had a way about him.  He was always fun to be around.  Then there's my boss Susan who shared the same bizarre humor, and worked with a friend of mine from college. 

  Through the years, my connection to my co-workers grew.  Some people came and went.  Matt left for Boston.  I still talk with him to this day.  Then Steve started.  He turned into one of my best friends, someone I could share anything with.  We weren't just colleagues.  We were friends.  It made the job something I looked forward to.  There were trials and tribulations along the way, but the love for my co-workers made much of that bearable.  My boss was great.  She was supportive, encouraging, and never afraid to compliment good work. 

  The first big problem at WPRI came the year our corporate owners tweaked our medical coverage.  I'm sure on the corporate level it appeared to be a minimal change, but for me and my wife it was dramatic.  Certain prescriptions my wife had to take for a chronic illness were no longer covered.  That meant our out-of-pocket costs went from $70 co-pays/per month to paying between $200-$350 on a few different medications.  All told it was about a $6000 hit for the year.  I was pissed and immediately started looking for another job.  I didn't want to leave WPRI, but this cut in benefits was going to make it difficult to pay the bills.  Lin Media, the company I had been with for over 10 years, for the first time f**ked me.       

  I told to my boss and the station General Manager, Pat Wholey, my situation.   Both were very sympathetic.  They understood my position, went to bat for me, and made the situation right.  I can't put into words how much that meant.  These are the kind of quality people you want to work for.    

  Despite what my bosses had done for me there were internal workings at the station that were frustrating.  I had put together a promo.  The spot was a departure from what we'd normally done.  It wasn't flashy, but was dynamic.  I had done it on the down low, but felt it really showcased our talent kicking a**.  It was on point.  It was on brand.  My boss didn't agree.  I usually deal with rejection pretty well, but this one for some reason hit me hard.  I was furious.  WHAT WAS WRONG WITH THIS?

  After several months I had gotten over the rejection, or so I thought.  We put together a series of spots to be tested.  One particular script in my view had too much copy.  So I went back to the well and used the same approach to the spot that was rejected.  I let our people, doing their job, tell the story.

  The field test came back.  That spot tested head and shoulders above all the rest.  Why did people like it?  Because it showed our team, "doing their job; looking out for the public."  I was happy to hear that, but it revived the hurt feelings that I thought were gone.  I wanted to scream from the rooftops, "I TOLD YOU SO."

  From then on my instructions were simple, "Make a spot like that one." Every time I heard that was like someone picking at a scab, reminding me of the spot I loved that was tossed aside.  I still don't understand why I harbored so much resentment, my idea was accepted eventually.  My feelings weren't logical, but I felt them.

  The next problem came while putting together another investigative spot.  There was a line, "We hold those in power accountable".  The investigative team had just confronted a very powerful politician.  Our reporter asked this person, "Why won't you answer our questions?"  It was perfect.  Everybody loved it, but one.  Unfortunately that person, who I will not name, had to give final approval.   

  I lobbied and asked why couldn't we use that sound bite.  Then I heard a phrase that I've heard many times in my career, "We don't want to get sued."  I didn't want to get sued either.  In my view we were talking to a public official, in a public place, and asked a generic, but pointed question.  How is that going to get us sued?

  I lost the argument, and was forced to take out the bite, then replace it with a weaker bite from a guy no one knew.  It was at that moment I lost faith in the product I was trying to sell.   

  Beyond that everything was starting to be micro-managed.  It was unbearable.  Things like font color, typeface, sound effects, music selection, flares, flare color, length of dissolve, everything but the kitchen sink was made a big deal.  I was scared if I breathed in the wrong direction that would be ridiculed too.  Why was I even putting forth any creative effort when I knew it would be castrated.  It wasn't that I stopped trying to do a good job, I just stopped being creative. 

  Adding to the problem, were tensions between myself and another person in my department.  I earned a new title, but heard through the grapevine that this person was upset about it.  This person I considered a friend.  Shouldn't a friend be happy when I get a promotion?  I wasn't trying to take anyone's spot, but it's obvious that person thought that I was.  I remained friendly, civil, and professional.  Those courtesies weren't always extended back to me.  I often received short irritated responses to questions, or was just plain ignored.   I didn't and still don't understand the pettiness.       

  Job applications went out to everywhere under the sun: colleges, travel agencies, commercial agencies, TV stations, financial firms, and design studios.  I interviewed  several times and came close to landing a couple jobs, but for one reason or another I didn't get them.  

  It was around this time I started to try to find different ways to re-invigorate my creative mojo.  So I bought a bunch of video equipment and started producing my own stuff.  I put together a video for a woman who overcame cancer, commercials for Redd's Apple Ale, Nutri Ninja, PSAs for things important to me, and a long form piece for those suffering from rare diseases.  The work was different in the best way possible.  It rekindled the creative fire within me.  

  I labored on at the station and had my yearly review.  When asked if there were any problems, I told my boss point blank, "I don't feel like we're Creative Services anymore, we're just Services."  I'd been thinking it for a long time, but never said it.  I should've said something sooner, but I had told myself the issues were temporary and would eventually work themselves out.  My slug like reaction turned a source of frustration into a major issue. 

    The dialog with my boss started a conversation within the station.  Soon the level of micro-management de-escalated dramatically.  It seemed like we were living the brand again.  My level of creative engagement started coming back.  I stopped actively searching for jobs.  Things were good.  I was producing some of the best work of my career. 

  Then winter 2014-2015 hit.   It was the worst winter I can recall.  The picture below is from Seekonk, Massachusetts the morning after a blizzard blanketed the region with over 2 feet of snow.  For the next month and a half it seemed like we had a storm every other day.  By mid-March I was done.  

  My wife and I had discussed for several years moving to a warmer spot near the beach.  The winter of 2014-2015 convinced us now was the time.   I started looking for jobs, but needed the perfect situation.  I was working for a great station, with many friends, that I'd been with for many years.  I wasn't going to leave for just anything. 

  I went on LinkedIn and saw that WAVY 10, in the Virginia Beach area, had an opening.  WAVY is WPRI's sister station.  If I could make this happen I would keep my seniority, my benefits, be somewhere warmer, and be near the beach.

  I contacted the WAVY's Creative Services Director, Kristen Joyal-Pinto.  She had worked at WPRI, but left right before I started.  We had a lot friends in common.  So I talked with them and heard how great she was to work with.  

  I had a phone interview with Kristen a few days later.  Shortly after, she wanted to have a face-to-face interview.  Because of the connection between the two stations I felt I had to tell my boss, Susan, what was going on.  For those that don't know me, I hate feeling like I'm letting someone down, and I hate confrontations.  This felt like both.  I talked with Susan before my co-workers arrived and said, "WAVY has a Promotions Producer opening.  I've applied for it.  Kristen and I have talked.  She wants to interview me next Friday.  I'm not saying I'm leaving, but I'd like to hear what she has to say."  We talked for a few more minutes, but I could tell Susan was disappointed.  I'd be lying if I told you my heart didn't sink a bit.  A couple hours later I talked with Pat, WPRI's General Manger about my thought process and why I wanted to take this interview.  He gave me his best pitch why I should stay.  He had a lot of good points, but I wanted to see this through. 

  I flew into Norfolk, Va. for the interview.  Kristen picked me up, we had a quick chat in the airport's Starbucks, then proceeded to WAVY.  The station had high/bright ceilings, long hallways, lots of doors, and a really good vibe.  The Creative Services department seemed like a tightknit group, which was very important to me.  They operated a little differently than WPRI, and had an assortment of fun video production "toys" that made the video production geek in me jump for joy.  I left WAVY feeling really good about my chances of getting a job offer, and liked what the station had to offer.  Something about this felt right.

  I met with Susan and Pat separately and told them about the experience.  I told them I hadn't made a decision, but In my mind if I was offered the job and the money was in the ballpark of what I wanted, I was leaving. 

  The call from Kristen came in 5 weeks later.  I accepted WAVY's offer and told Susan. 

  Years before when I contemplated leaving WPRI I was angry about something.  This time I wasn't angry it was just time for a new adventure. 

  The last few weeks in Providence were some of the best and worst of my life.  I tried to see absolutely everyone before the big move south.  I made a lot great memories in those waning days, but those were made tougher living with the realization that there were friends that I won't see face-to-face ever again.  It sucks when the right move brings so much sadness.   

  The station had a great sendoff party for me.  Pat and Susan said a lot of very kind things to and about me in front of all the station's employees.  I got choked up but composed myself enough to tell everyone how much they meant to me and say goodbye.