All Summer Long
I can still hear the twangy rock notes of “All Summer Long” sitting in the back of a van obnoxiously wrapped in the call letters of the CBS affiliate that I worked for.
It was 2007 or 2008 when I was fresh out of college and I worked on an all-male marketing team.
Fortunately, they were some of the coolest, funniest, talented people I could have asked for at such an early point in my career. They never made me feel like the kid sister.
We took this death-trap-on-wheels news van all over town on multiple assignments, coffee breaks and long lunches for Sonoran hot dogs.
And Kid Rock’s summer anthem was on the radio more often than not. The van and our phones were pre-Bluetooth and Spotify, so we were stuck with a steady radio rotation.
One assignment was out at the Biosphere 2 (think that Pauly Shore movie, but the real thing). We were driving along the highway and hit a wall of angry bees, some of which made their way through the A/C vents.
Another assignment had us on the tarmac of the Tucson airport in the middle of July, heat searing through our shoes as we got beauty promo shots of the anchors while a monsoon storm brewed closely in the background
A documentary assignment took us dozens of feet underground next to a decommissioned Cold War missile-turned-museum thanks to a German Count benefactor (not kidding about the Count part).
Sales client assignments had us going to countless mom-and-pop businesses, where we were expected to turn something like a shitty used car lot commercial into a cinematic masterpiece.
It was a ridiculously low-paying job with odd hours, but I learned more than I ever thought I would alongside some awesome people.
Like Kid Rock sang, I “thought those days would never end.” News van—thanks for the memories, it was a fun ride after all.