Hallowed Halls and Unlimited Long Distance....

First let me say that I will always be a devotee of the "Peacock". In June of 1971 it was the best network and the best place to work. Add that to the best weather imaginable you had me, about to turn 22, having the best time. I'd moved into another Lakeside Apartment - my mother used to say "she moves when the oven gets dirty", like the oven ever got dirty. I'd really moved because I was tired of thinking of the earthquake and tired of the furniture. All the apartments looked alike but some were better furnished. Having befriended one of the rental agents I had my choice of the available one-bedrooms and, once again, packed up the Triumph Spitfire for a move around the block. I'd outgrown the daisy decals and cork board and purchased several framed posters with my first charge card. My pay had now increased to a huge $750 a month pre-tax, so it was still tight paying that $175 a month rent. Luckily, Kraft Mystery Dinners were only 19 cents each. And, "Happy Hour" at El Torrito became a weekly supplement to my diet. What I'd give for that metabolism today!

The people at KNBC Sales were fun. Salesmen, all, enjoying the perks of their lucrative positions. It was pre-women doing much of anything work-wise other than being "assistants" and the occasional on-air weather girl. Yes, they did call her the "weather girl". Tom Brokaw did the 6:00PM local news and had a speech impediment like Barbara Walters. What they wouldn't have given for different names. But, he sure was cute.

Our offices were in the Administration Building but we were in the same building as the commissary and across the "midway" parking area from the studios.

My NBC ID card gave me access to the entire lot. I was a kid in a candy store sampling never before seen sweets. This was incredible. Rowan and Martin's Laugh-In taped in one of the studios and the cast, including Goldie Hawn, could often be seen moving through the cafeteria style line at the commissary. Rowan was a funny, nice man. Martin, not so much. He always looked, and acted, like he was in a bad mood, except on television.

My job as "sales assistant" was typing (uh huh, typing) sales proposals, contracts and the like for my two bosses. They sold commercial time on the station, I was the back-up. I begged often for a shot at a "junior" sales position but was told "no" emphatically. But I was allowed to help prepare proposals...silly girl, that was the major part of the job. Creatively managing demographic points into the desire formula to get the "buy". The guys brought my proposals - after careful checking, but c'mon all you had to do was read a ratings book to pull up the numbers - and took the buyers out to very long, liquid lunches. The most creative part of my job was putting together their weekly expense reports. Before the day of mandatory credit card receipts, the bottom of restaurant bills were purposely left blank for just this purpose. I'd be handed a stack of "bottoms" and fill them in with names and numbers. Goal: $70 a week. Their expense accounts could have paid for my apartment and car insurance. But, the "tie-lines", phone lines were accessible to all. You'd pick up a phone, give the operator a number and be connected, no questions asked. So, I saved quite a bit on phone bills. Considering that was a major expense in my youth - a very good thing!

I loved working there. At lunch time my girlfriends and I would roam the halls of the studios, peeking into rehearsal stores and un-locked studios. The crew members were friendly guys. I dated a camera man briefly and then discovered his divorce wasn't really final - in fact, the papers hadn't been filed. In fact, he was moving back home. Ouch! Six months went by very quickly.

Holiday time in Burbank was special. Big trees, fully decorated. The same at NBC. The holiday spirit had to be decorating-ly enhanced because the weather was always a glorious 72 degrees then. With sunny, blue skies. A winter coat was a distant memory. My family had planned to return again for Christmas and I hoped for a better dinner at Sorrentino's. Surely, Big Joe would approve of my life now.

It was the week before Christmas and I was walking down the halls between studios 1 and 3 heading for a destination I can't remember right now. A vaguely familiar man passed me walking in the opposite directions. We both did a double take, stopped and turned around.

The man looked at me with a question mark in his eyes. I knew who he was but wasn't going to speak first. After what seemed minutes, it clicked and he said "Janet? What are you doing here?". "Working", I replied and started to continue along my way. "Wait, let's talk", he said.

Surely you must know, it was Jake.