Free Suburgatory by Linda Keenan Page A

of “Oh gross!” “He’s at it again!” and “Is he done yet?” in the control room.

    Question #2. This person was nicknamed “Cranky Pants” by his caretakers. Toddler or Anchor?
    Answer: Anchor. As in, “Watch out, Cranky Pants hit traffic, his BlackBerry crashed, he just saw that we tanked in the last quarter-hour ratings, and he’s on the fucking warpath.”

    Question #3. This person was a huge admirer of the sober, thoughtful reporting of NewsHour with Jim Lehrer and watched it religiously. Toddler or Anchor?
    Answer: Toddler. My toddler loved when Jim “Ware” used to “wee-cap” the news at the end. When the show would list servicemen and women killed in Iraq and Afghanistan, Frank would say “Jim Ware is sad now.” He also loved substitute anchor Gwin Eye-full, and analysis by David Bwooks from the New York Times. He’s really mad Jim Ware retired. Crazy-mad.

    Question #4. This person’s caretaker had to remove carrot shreds from his lunch because he “hates orange food—no orange food!” Toddler or Anchor?
    Answer: Anchor. Though, to be fair, Frank didn’t like orange food either.

    Question #5. This person was inconsolable when told he couldn’t have a monkey as a pet. Toddler or Anchor?
    Answer: Toddler. OK, you guessed it; that was my three-year-old. Most anchors care a tad more about their crucial demographics than they do any living creature, other than themselves.

    Question #6. This person struggled mightily with language development. Toddler or Anchor?
    Answer: Anchor(s). One of my proudest moments while driving around suburbia was when Frank heard a public radio anchor say rapprochement, and he repeated it flawlessly. But with reporters and anchors? Some have left us writers and producers awestruck at their ignorance. It’s also a very delicate dance as a writer, whether to spell out a word phonetically for the “talent,” because if it’s a word or name they know, that’s you effectively telling them, “Hey, boss, I think you’re a moron!” But if you didn’t put the “prono” in, and then they prove themselves to be morons on live television, then you, the writer, get ripped a new one, and a big new one at that. I polled TV friends for favorite prono mistakes. Here’s a sampling: Remember the Alamo: “Remember the a-LAMB-o.” Fidel Castro: “Feye-dell (like Fido) Castro.” Mao : “Mayo.” Pneumonia: “Puh-numonia.”

    Question #7. This person turned a very angry red, balled up his fists, and screamed when he was read something he didn’t like. Toddler or Anchor?
    Answer: Anchor. My toddler had things he didn’t like to read, but at least he didn’t crumple up the offending material and throw it at me. He also didn’t know how to say “Who the FUCK wrote this?”

    Question #8. This person has trouble looking into people’s eyes. Toddler or Anchor?
    Answer: Anchor(s). When the camera is on? No problem. With the staff? Not so great on the eye contact. Thank goodness this wasn’t my toddler, because I definitely would have worried about autism.

    Question #9. This person whipped out his penis any chance he got. Toddler or Anchor?
    Answer: Toddler and Anchor(s). With apologies to my sweet boy for violating his privacy, my toddler son loved showing us his “nudie rudy.” (Blame entirely his baby-talking mama. When he was streaking around the house, I started calling him a “nudie rudy.” He eventually decided that his penis was actually called a “nudie rudy.”) As for the anchors, well, their nudy rudies were deployed in far less innocent circumstances, and just like the maids and the butlers in a secretly steamy English manor, we, the news-servants of the all-powerful, knew a lot more than our masters ever suspected.

    Question #10. This person just up and ran away from his