Looking at a map, Florida kinda looks dirty.

I worked as a television cameraman for 7 and a half years. It was a profession I never would have imagined myself doing. News photographers are the meat & potatoes of the TV business, and for anyone who has ever known me - "meat" is not anywhere in my definition at all. There are eunuchs who out "meat" me!

While I went to school for broadcasting, I stumbled into this crazy business because of my wife. She had a job as a reporter at the time. On weekends, there was no photographer, so she would have shoot and report at the same time.

One weekend she got this assignment on a dude who held cross country skiing poetry readings. He'd take a group out, ski for a while, and then stop recite original poetry.

It's difficult to shoot a video camera and cross country ski at the same time, so Kristin asked me to come and shoot video while she and a group full of avid cross country skiers/poetry lovers.

I was the only person without skis! Unfortunately, it meant I had to run thru snow drifts to keep up these people.

When they would stop, I would have to catch up and film everybody while they listened intently. I was a pack and a half smoker at the time, and already out of shape. You could hear me huffing and puffing all over the natural sound on the camera.

From there, I was hooked. When Kristin got a job in southwest Florida in 1999, I took a job at a competing station as a photographer.

We spent two entertaining years there, and I have a ton of wild and bizarre stories for the crazy and bizarre folks from all over the world who made their way to the land of sunshine.

Like the time I got accosted inside in a Fort Myers trailer park by an angry old couple who wanted to know why I was there shooting. After I explained to them that we were here to do a story about saving their trailer park, they proceeded to curse and scream at me and the reporter.

The husband wanted to fight me, and at one point, took a step towards me with his fist out. He pointed to a sign that said, "No Soliciting". He said, "See that sign, it says no soliciting ... that means no bullsh*tting around.". (Next time you see a No Soliciting sign, remember that it means "no bullsh*tting around.")

The comedic thing was that we had permission to be there, and we had already finished the story. So, I calmly walked to the news truck, and put my camera away. The entire time, the wife is yelling at me, calling me a "real business man." (I swear to God, it was like David Mamet was writing their material. I half expected the wife to offer to buy me a pack a gum and offer to teach me how to chew it!)

I have this on tape. As a photographer in the middle of an incident, you record everything. Just in case. You never know what's going to happen.

Another time, I was sent to get some "video" of a "house" and "some dogs". These words were important because along with the address, they were the only information I had for the story.

When I showed up to shoot the "house" and "some dogs" - I found myself in the middle of the slum section of Fort Myers, FL. Say what you want about parts of LA or Chicago or Detroit, but from what I've been told, the hood in Fort Myers is just as dangerous and graphic as I've seen on any newscast or any movie.

At night, you don't go there. The NAACP called it the most economically segregated city in the south, and that's frightening when you consider that includes the entire states of Alabama, Louisiana, and Georgia.

Thankfully, this was day time though.

As I got out and set up in front of the house, three very large Doberman pinchers came out into the gated front yard and proceeded to bark incessantly at me. I got my usual shots, and was pretty much finished, when an SUV rolled hard up on the sidewalk.

3 very large men got and started to yell at me, telling me to get the fuck away from their house. One guy grabbed a large cinder block from a nearby yard, and says, "If you don't get the f*ck out of here now, I'm gonna hit you with this.".

At this point, I am getting the f*ck out of here now. As I'm quickly packing up, I say the only thing I can think of, "Hey, I'm on your guys' side, we just wanted to get your side of the story.". (In times of crisis, I'm either stupidly cocky or ridiculously chicken sh*t. That day, chicken sh*t was on the order.)

One of the guys says, "That's fine, come back tomorrow in the afternoon after our court date. Maybe we'll talk to ya' then.".

I head back to the station, and relayed the entire story to the newsroom. Somebody calls the news director, and I got this stern message passed on to me, that "We are never on somebody's side. We are the media.". Funny, I could have sworn something Frank McCahill taught at Minot State University about the role of a journalist, being impartial and on the side of the people. I think later in that chapter he did say, "Unless you may be hit by a concrete cinder block. Then ... the sh*t's off.".

Turns out that the "house" I had shot was a local den of drug dealing and dog fighting. What made this "house" newsworthy was that undercover police chased a suspect into this yard, the suspects friends decided unleash five large German Doberman pincher's onto the pursuing cops. One dog was shot and killed, and another was seriously injured and later put down. This would have been nice to have known before I got into a discussion with the accused unleashers. (Obviously, Mr. Chicken Sh*t made the right choice.)

The follow up to the story is that I got sent back to the area the next day. This time, I went with a reporter, James Irby.

I miss James. Whenever we were short on time, he'd volunteer to drive. Imagine going down the road at 85 MPH, trying to edit in backseat of a Ford conversion van/TV Live Truck while James blasted DMX's Up in Here. I swear we took one bump once on Del Prado Blvd and the truck was airborne. (It was like that scene in Ferris Bueller's Day off where the valet parkers take off with Cameron's dad's car.)

Anyway, James and I went to the "house" and sure enough, the same group of guys were hanging around outside. They came over to the news truck, and started to talking with James. When they recognized me, one of guys said , "It's motherf*ckin' Stone Cold Steve Austin!" --- I guess in reference to my shaved head and goatee. Or my fat gut. Or both.

Lots of time in news, it's waiting. Waiting for somebody to decide if they are willing to do an interview. Sometimes, you and the reporter sit in the truck and wait.

One night, we were waiting outside a Fort Myers house to see if we could get an interview an this 18 year old kid named Michael, who was accused of sending threatening e-mails to a survivor of the Columbine school shooting.

I was working for WBBH/WZVN at the time, and I was with this reporter named Erik Levine. I feel bad saying this because I am nothing to look at, but Erik looked like Unfrozen Caveman Lawyer. (I liked Erik, but he is forever in my bad books because he didn't stand by the camera like I asked him, while I tuned in a live shot one night. The camera fell and busted in half. I lost a good camera and got a day's suspension.)

Erik could always get the interview. And sure enough, Michael was willing to talk. He met us at the door, and everything was all dramatic and dark in the house. He said that he was misunderstood, and that he was merely acting out a character. We set up and started rolling on the interview when the door burst open.

It was Michael's mother.

In a voice that sounded like George's mother on Seinfeld, she created a catchphrase that stuck with me for years, when she said to her son, "Michael, in my own home!".

Michael's mother had given him explicit instructions not to talk to anybody. Especially not Erik Levine from WBBH.

The next two minutes turned into sitcom, as Michael's mom read him and Erik the riot act. "I told you, Michael," she said, "that I was going to Steak and Shake with Linda, and that you were to not to talk to the TV people!".

Erik's sitting there, apologizing, she starts in on him. "Erik," she said, "I told you. Michael can't talk. He's going to be in court next week. I told you. And you did this ... in my own home!".

Me? I just kept recording.

Some times, it's not so funny the stuff you see. Crashed cars, sick children, bodies with white sheets across them. I look forward to living the next 3/4 of my life never having to watch EMT remove someone from a crushed tractor trailer.

But what's more scary is the stuff underneath. The stuff that eventually surfaces thru either somebody's courage or bullsh*t luck.

The main anchor of WFTX Fox 4 had an assignment for sweeps. Beth Shelburne was her name and she was a lot of fun, and a really good reporter too. We went downtown in Fort Myers one night to do interviews about sex and monogamy in relationships. (Your usual ratings fare.) We interviewed this one couple and asked them all types of questions about their relationship. It was cheesy and fun. (Your usual ratings fare.)

A short while later, a baby's body gets found in the woods outside of town. They eventually traced it back to the couple we interviewed in downtown Fort Myers. It was one of the production assistants, Heather, who discovered it. She had come along on the interviews for experience, and it her who remembers interviewing them.

Both the husband and wife were now suspects, and on the run. Eventually, they tracked the couple down - separately. It was freaky to watch the interview again, under the context of what happened. Last time I remember, they were trying to determine if the husband was competent to stand trial.

Another time, a reporter and I went to cover a fishing tournament for kids with handicaps. It was a weekend story - the type you try to have as much with as possible. The kids were fabulous ... they always are!

But the dude that ran it ind of gave me the creeps. He was an older man, who looked a lot like C. Everett Coop. He was in a wheelchair, but he said he didn't necessarily need it.

Anyway, I put together the story and stayed thru the newscast to run one of the sports cameras. About two minutes after the story aired, the phone rang. I answered it. The person on the other line said, "I just watched that story about the fishing tournament, and the guy who runs it should not be allowed around kids. When I was a child, that son of bitch sexually assaulted me when my mother was with him.".

Holy sh*t.

This opened up a complex, high detailed story that involved the fishing tournament guy and a history of sexual assault with children. How this guy got anywhere near kids is amazing.

By now this had turned into a huge story, and a different reporter got assigned to it. I remember that Mr. Fishing Man met with the reporter and myself in a public place. He brought along his wife and met us at Perkins.

He begged us not to release the story as it would kill his credibility and work in the community. Up until that point in my life, it was twenty of the most intense minutes I've ever spent. All I can say is that I think I have met the devil, or a close proximity.

Me and the reporter left the restaurant and aired the story. I had tons of video of this guy kissing and hugging kids at the fishing tournament and him meeting us at Perkins. I have no clue where he is now. Hopefully in jail.

It wasn't all dark and creepy in SW Florida. I also got to meet Regis Philbin.

It was around the time Who Wants to Be a Millionaire was taking off. Apparently, every market that Regis went, he was indebted to meet with the local ABC affiliate and do a story.

He and Don Rickles came thru on a tour. And we got a chance to watch him rehearse. Afterwards, we did the interview.

The entire time I was dying inside thinking , "I'd love to do Dana Carvey impersonation of him. Cody ... what kind of name is Cody to name a boy!!!"

Thank God I didn't.

At the end of it, he looks at him and says, in that voice, "Jason, how did it look?". I said that he looked great! Regis looks at me and says, "The lighting was terrible, we're gonna have to do it again!!".

It makes me wonder how many times he did that joke to local ABC cameraman all over America.

Kristin and I spent two years there. There were so many great memories. We stood on the beach at ocean on Christmas Day. We saw DisneyWorld and Universal Studios and Seaworld. The kids had a great time, and there were so many wild and crazy people in at that little Fox station in Cape Coral.

Some time I'll tell you about Tim Kinney and the cleanest joke I ever heard. And don't let me forget to mention Mark Current and Jeff Yarlett. If you're lucky, you'll hear about MDA kids hitting on television anchors or going to a nudist colony with Chip McAfee ... and his wife.

Now go to bed.