95: A New Era

We interviewed four candidates for our audience development position before New Year's. We hired two.

Barbara Jenkins was a real surprise. She didn't come from the Media School, nor was she a student. She was the box office manager for the university theater. And she was nearly thirty years old. She'd graduated from the School of Public and Environmental Affairs (SPEA), which is where the triplets had graduated, as well. You can learn just about anything in that school. For Barbara, it was where she got her BS in Arts Management and Administration. She liked her position at the theater, but felt it was time for her to move into something she could grow with. The position at the theater often involved evening work and she had a five-year-old and a seven-year-old at home. And a husband.

She was a gem. She'd focused on event marketing as a minor and the theater had often had very successful promotions tying productions in with events going on in the community. We all felt that someone with a little of the professional experience that so many of us lacked would be a big boost for us. She understood college-age audiences and entertainment. Our new audience development manager could start in mid-January with two weeks' notice to her current employer. Hired!

We didn't set out to hire the second position, but we all knew we needed him. Randy Johnson came to us from the Kelly School of Business. He didn't have a degree yet and was only attending part time. He worked part time in a law office in Bloomington as a secretary. Not a legal secretary by definition, but just a general office person who did typing and filing and scheduling.

Since Samantha had started taking on the role of a producer, our office management had gone downhill steadily. She just didn't have time to keep all our schedules, messages, phone calls, and paperwork caught up while she was trying to create a new television show. It was showing.

"This place is a disaster," Randy said frankly as he looked around. "Don't you have an office manager? Does everyone work in this little room? How do you get anything done?"

"What would you do first if you were the office manager here, Randy?" Rose asked.

"Get you an office! I count eight of you here in the interview and you are hiring another. I don't suppose that even begins to account for the people you have on productions. Who even does your filing? You get, what, two hundred releases a week? Planning to grow? I'd have to get a temp in here for two weeks just to get caught up on what you are currently behind on."

"I thought you were interested in the audience development position," Rhonda said.

"Not now," he said. "That poor person will have to borrow a phone in order to even make calls. How is he ever going to handle contracts and schedules and ticket sales. This office needs me to organize it."

Well, that was true. We called his current employer and got a glowing review. He was the go-to guy for anything that needed done in the law office. They were sad to see him go, but he'd start for us on January 17. Hired!

My precious little girl took a step on her first birthday! It wasn't entirely unassisted. She pulled herself up on my hands and then stepped forward. She had my hand, but she was still making the steps by herself. Everyone in the house cheered. Xan was so startled that she sat back down.

She was still tiny. Dr. Jan said her growth was within norm for her birth weight, but said she might never be as tall as her mother. Probably not even as tall as her father. When Jan met Xan's grandmother, Sylvia, she said not to worry. We had the genetics for a small child. When she met Bart she was speechless.

We decided New Year's Day would just be Babies' Day from now on and had all the kids at the ranch over to the big house to play in the family room. We pushed all the furniture back to the walls and just made a big play space. The five babies were happy, though Leann and Sarah were still in arms or just lying on the blankets. Leslie, Xan, and C-Rae were scooting, crawling, or cruising all over the place. Ellie, Matthew, and Leon were building some incredibly complex structure out of Legos. We'd been on the ranch for four years and had eight kids.

Wow!

I made love to Dani that night—kind of a celebration of our family. Xan was no longer nursing. Moving together and feeling her warmth envelop me was as sweet as it always was. Her breasts had never stretched full, like Doreen's had, so they were still firm and round and sensitive. I fell asleep with my lips on her nipple.

When I awoke, Liz was spooned up against me. I simply rolled over and found her as calm and loving as Dani. And as wet and warm when I sank into her. I was simply flooded with feelings of love from all around me.

Nicki's book didn't hit the bookstores before Christmas. She was a little pissed at her publisher. They'd held it back because they had too many releases for the holiday and 'didn't want it to get lost in the crowd.'

"They fucking didn't want to put in any effort," she fumed. "Cora Bradley's book was all they wanted to promote, so suddenly she's got another best seller and I'm going to be in the remainders bin before they actually ship it!"

Nonetheless, when we received the first release copies on January fifth, we had a big fucking celebration. Every person on the ranch bought a copy at her release party. We couldn't draw a big enough crowd at the ranch, so the party was held at B. Dalton in Indianapolis. We weren't the only ones there. I think the bookstore made a mint that night.

I had two more weeks of taping Young Cooking. Fortunately, I no longer had classes to go to, so I could work with my writers as well. We were running repeats on holidays, so the first week of January was a four-day work week. All our new hires were scheduled to start on January 17, the Day after Martin Luther King Jr. Day. We finally hammered out a plan for production of XX/XY that I could live with. I wasn't particularly happy about it, but I'd survive until we got the kinks worked out. It was going to be harder on April and her tech crew, but she was excited about it. They would fly or drive in to the location for filming on Sunday night. First thing Monday morning, they would be setting up to tape. I'd fly in Monday morning, planning to be onsite with Sam and at least one other cónyuge. I knew Dani would be with me a lot. I hoped Liz, Doreen, Rose, and everyone else at one point or another would also join me for a week. We'd do a live show Monday night, run through the editing crew back at the ranch. Joyce had brought on an assistant and expected to turn my show over to her after we'd been operating for a while. The plan was to have the show taped at five for a nine o'clock Eastern time broadcast. On Tuesdays and Wednesdays, we'd tape a show at eleven in the morning, then change over to our 'live show' at five with a second audience. I'd get to fly home Wednesday night, or at the latest first thing Thursday morning. The two taped shows would play on Thursday and Friday nights. That also helped us in terms of trying to actually get a live audience for the Friday night shows. After all, that was date night and none of the young women in our target demographic would want to commit to a women's night then.

Joyce actually managed to cut together portions of both our test audience recordings to make a good, solid pilot for the series. Lockhurst promised to run the show as a one-hour special the second week of January with announcements that we would begin broadcasting on January thirtieth.

"Can I come to work today?" Barbara asked when she showed up Tuesday the third of January. She was at the door when the Tuesday morning audience was leaving the studio.

"Barbara! We weren't expecting you for two weeks yet. How'd you manage to get free today?"

"I turned in my two weeks' notice this morning and my boss told me I needed to take my vacation time. He was actually pretty nice about the whole thing. He talked to Rose when she checked my references, so he knew I'd be going. He didn't fire me, but he said I wasn't really needed this week since there were no shows selling at the moment. So he said I should take a two-week vacation and come in the thirteenth for my last paycheck. If you can use me now, I'm ready to work."

"We can use you," Sam said. "We'll have to go to the Big House to get started, though. Let's go see Lamar and get your paperwork completed."

"Better call the house and make sure everyone is decent if you are taking Barbara over there," I said. Sam waved at me and they were off.

We were at least half a step ahead of Randy's suggestion that we get an office. That had become increasingly clear over the past several months. I walked over to the village square Wednesday to check on the build-out of our new office in the Designed by Leonard building. We were on the second floor of the three story building. The top floor was Leonard's corporate and design offices. The street level was his design showroom.

We'd discussed long and hard how to work out an office space that allowed all of us to get things done. We finally decided on an open floor plan that had sound baffles between individual 'offices' so that phone calls could be made. The open plan, though, meant that people could simply stand up and see through the entire office, including all the windows. The only exception was the screening room where we could shut the door and turn up the volume. Randy had toured the office as soon as he accepted our offer, but he still wasn't happy with the scattered filing plan. We'd have to work on that.

We discovered all kinds of things when it was time to consider telephones. We ended up having to contract with a third party that installed a multi-line PBX system. We even had an 800 number. The cable company was upgrading the fiber optics for the entire village. It wasn't gratis. We were paying them a premium for the service we got, which included faster lines to transfer our broadcasts out to the stations that received them.

Barbara didn't wait any longer than she had to. As soon as she had a telephone in her new cubicle, she was in there with notebooks, college directories, and a computer that Geoff barely got connected to the network before she was opening spreadsheets and databases. She was like one of those bulldogs that you see in pictures of Winston Churchill. She latched on and didn't let go. We needed to get her a desk as quickly as possible.

Classes at IU began the ninth, and for the first time in four and a half years, I didn't go in. My only class, T-800, was my thesis. In our household, only Angela and Courtney were still in class. Dani had elected to hold off one more semester so she and Xan could travel with me before she continued her master's work. Angela was in the last half of her second year of med school and was missing most of the time. She told us that it was just easier for her to go to her mother's house in the village than to risk disturbing us in the big house. I made it a point to know her schedule, though, and to spend as much time as she had available with her. I didn't want her to become so isolated that she forgot us.

Courtney was working on her thesis as well, but she was teaching a programming concepts course under the direction of Dr. Hanratty. At least she only had to go in for the class she taught and for office hours. The rest of the time, she was fussing in our studio with her new video editing software. It looked like she might have a winner based on the way Joyce was raving about it. Don Randall, our IP attorney, was meeting with Courtney and Lamar once a week to get the necessary patents and copyrights filed. Courtney said digital video was now a reality and everyone would be in line for her software in a year. Based on Lonnie Phillips's reaction, I didn't think it was going to take that long.

And for my part, I was meeting with Samantha, Cassie, Chuck, Frankie, April, and now Barbara every afternoon while the office equipment leasing company was installing the dividers and desks that we'd need.

"Audience isn't the hard part," Barbara said. "Facilities are. Under the current plan, we have to rent a room and furniture for three days every week. We'll have to move in and secure everything overnight. So many of these places have rooms suitable for ten to twenty people in a business meeting setting. But to get what we need in terms of capacity and ceiling height that April specified, we're into rooms that seat 100-250. You'll disappear in them."

"What's our alternative?" Sam asked. Over the past month, she'd begun to mature into her role as a producer. She ran meetings extremely well.

"We could cut costs and add a real personalized touch by filming at the sorority houses from which we are drawing our audience. The downside is that we'd have to move our equipment from location to location, including tearing down and setting up between performances on the days when there are two," Barbara said.

"Do you think the sororities will agree to that?" April asked. "I think we could make the shift. On most campuses, moving equipment could be next door or across the street. It's not like we'd have to move across town."

"It was actually one of the sororities that suggested it."

"Can we try it here instead of filming in the studio?" Sam asked. "We're already booked for a hotel in Champaign/Urbana for the second week. That would give us time, though, to see if it works and then set things up for the third week."

"Let me get on it," Barbara said. Her part of the meeting was over and she got up and left. She did not mess around where she wasn't needed.

"Wardrobe," Cassie said, reading from her agenda.

"Leonard is right," Frankie said. "Brian needs to look like he just walked off the cover of GQ." I snorted. "Don't knock it, Brian. You're a good looking guy. It's too bad your beard is so light. We could almost make you look gay. But that's not what I'm talking about. We're selling the concept here that you epitomize what these girls want to see in their boyfriends. Donna's research says that they want to be proud to be seen with their boyfriend."

"You know, those guys on GQ—and I mean even Adam—always look aloof and almost disdainful. I don't want to give that impression," I said. "Women should be able to look at their boyfriends and not just say he's pretty as a picture. The pride in the guy has to go deeper than that."

"That's your job," Chuck said. "What Frankie's talking about is simply good grooming and sharp clothes. You can't go with the same look all the time, either. One time a week you can look preppie. Not every day. Suits, jeans, sweaters, even shorts if we get into hot weather. You have to be able to look good in everything."

"I think you should even show up occasionally in house robes," Frankie said. "Again, not every day. Just as one of the options for how men can dress well and look good without necessarily breaking the bank."

I needed to go upstairs and talk to Leonard.

And suddenly, it was my last solo show. Mary and all three triplets were with me Friday as I explained that we were transitioning to a new chef next week.

ME: In celebration of where it all began, I present you with the humble tomato. The first demonstration that I did that got me on The Homemakers' Hour with Miss Polly eight and a half years ago was a demonstration of what to do with tomatoes. At that time, I was truly a young cook at the ripe old age of fourteen. And that was the day that I first met Elaine Frost. [Elaine joins me in kitchen.]

ELAINE: Hello, Chef Brian.

ME: Well, hey, good lookin'!

ELAINE: [Sings] Whatcha got cookin'? [Together.] How about cookin' something up with me?

ME: I wish I had a better voice to sing that with you. Today, we have tomatoes. We're going to stuff them, grill them, and fry them. Want to help?

ELAINE: I'd love to.

It was sweet. And good recipes. Elaine and I remembered several of our favorite recipes that had been on the show and we had some pretty nice dishes to show for our work when we finished. We even talked about how the studio had started as our dormitory common room in college with the kitchen set for the only show we did.

We reset the audience and Elaine led me to her set to be her last interviewee.