Lifestyle

Take Comfort Where You Can

A family of talking heads

I never thought I’d be the type of person addicted to a media giant, but the TV — specifically CNN — is playing a big role in my life more and more.

If I don’t turn it on early in the morning, I feel lonely and anxious even if my spouse or someone else is present. And it’s not as if the newscasters have much positive news to report nowadays considering the pandemic takes up the majority of the content. But just watching their faces and learning how different personalities react to the news of the day brings comfort to me. It’s the feeling of “you’re not alone,” and as trite as it sounds, that “we’re all in this together” feeling provides succor as well as team spirit.

It doesn’t make me happy, however, listening to the disasters of the day, especially when I learn that, for instance, 1,000 people died today of COVID. But I need this information to ground me and make me realize I’m not the only person who recognizes the magnitude and fearsomeness of this virus. I don’t want to be that one person in the crowd who calls “fire” and sees flames while others sigh and say nothing. Too often you begin to doubt yourself if that happens. I need the confirmation of others.

Of course I have my favorites among newscasters, and I critique them silently on a regular basis just the way I would evaluate the people who make up my circle of friends. Some newscasters are more upbeat than others, some smile too damn much, and others are so articulate that I find myself comparing their vocabulary with mine (one graduated UC Berkeley so it follows she’s a walking encyclopedia).

And although the pandemic plays a big role in my relationship with the reporters on CNN, I do enjoy noticing their appearances. One newscaster, whom I had an antipathy for (at least in the beginning) must have gone through a period of “what should I do with my hair?” It seemed like every day for at least two weeks, her shade of hair was changing from dark brown to a lighter color to reddish tints to what it is now: a pleasant auburn. Even though she’s attractive I get the feeling she’s not overly consumed by her looks. Maybe her producers thought she needed a new look after two pregnancies. She speaks in rapid-fire fashion, and sometimes I lose her words completely because she drops her voice and often seems dismissive of whatever subject or interviewee she currently is covering. She’s a little schoolmarmish but there’s also a hard core she hides within a facade of politeness.

Some reporters are more expressive than others. One sometimes seems on the brink of tears after an especially emotional interview with a pandemic victim’s relative. Another reporter, who likes to commemorate COVID victims at the end of his segment, does this in a unique and special way. It’s in direct contrast to an hour or so of straight news reporting, when he maintains a monotonous, almost angst-free demeanor that I find somewhat disturbing. He’s like a Johnny-One-Note in his delivery. What would it take for him to lose his composure just once? The release of a nuclear missile that destroys an East Coast city? A tsunami that wipes out 400 miles of California coastline? I don’t think I want to find out what would discombobulate him.

Of course, most reporters are probably schooled in the philosophy of journalism in which you remain objective and removed from the subject at hand. So that probably accounts for part of the even-handed tone. But sometimes it comes across as too nonjudgmental.

However later in the evening CNN a definite undergoes a change in attitude. It boasts several reporters who insinuate themselves into most of their news reportage. When, for example, Anderson Cooper had to cope on air with the death of his ninety-year-old mother, you could see the tears just waiting to fall. And his delivery on most topics was noncommittal, bland as befits a person in serious mourning. I felt sorry for him and rejoiced with him when he seemed to emerge from his private grief to the wider grief of the pandemic.

I also celebrated his adoption of a beautiful baby boy. He flashed a few photos and we shared the joy that only a newborn infant can deliver. Now I can feel his growing disgust and enmity at POTUS and the way he’s mishandled the pandemic and lied to the country. I know he wonders what the world will be like when his little boy starts to talk and ask questions.

In contrast, Chris Cuomo, the brother of the New York State Governor, wrestles with tough issues during his reportage. It’s more like a debate than news. Despite coping with his own case of COVID, he reported from his home every day, and I admire his bravery and high tolerance for the negative symptoms he had to deal with. He said he ran a pretty high fever for some time, and although he conceals it quite well, he still suffers from some depression and brain fog — cognitive deficits left over from his siege with the virus. It takes courage to admit you’re not 100 percent. Stigma seems to permeate everything, even COVID.

My CNN viewing day ends with Cuomo, whose performance most resembles the litigious lawyer that he must have been at one point. He knows how to put people on the defensive and ask the hard questions. But he appears to be the most outwardly caring and sympathetic of the reporters. Expressive at least on air, he perpetuates the stereotype of the gregarious Italian family. His on-air conversations with his brother were both caring and charismatic. He always thanks guests profusely for coming on the show and sincerely wishes them and their families good health.

As a group, the reporters are like a family to me. With their different personalities — I even like the weekend anchors, who are a change of pace but just as professional as the regulars — they give me what I never had: a close family that is dependable, responsible, and tells me the truth.

For me, they are as important as my animal family, which now includes five miniature schnauzers and two ginger cats. Just the way I miss and mourn my long-gone pets, so I miss my CNN bunch if I don’t turn on the TV. The silence scares me — the aloneness dispirits me. Whether the news is awful or a little uplifting, I see composed faces and sober demeanors and feel a surge of comfort. Sometimes their pursuit of objectivity annoys me because I’ve already made up my mind on certain subjects and have an opinion, but I still admire their ability to report information on both sides of the issue.

And their tolerance for repetition seems amazing. I ask myself, how can they keep repeating the same news, health warnings, and statistics so much? Do they ever feel like throwing caution to the wind and saying, It’s the same as yesterday only a little bit worse!

I appreciate my TV friends, who even in the midst of a crumbling health infrastructure are polite and poised. Now that I’ve befriended them, the pandemic seems a little less horrible, and I’m a little less terrified of the outcome. Thanks, guys!