March 21, 2003
Terror TV? Just Change the Channel
By CLYDE HABERMAN
HE war is on. A lot of people are going to get hurt, and New Yorkers naturally worry that they may find themselves among the casualties before this thing is over. There is nothing remotely funny in any of this.
Still, it was hard to suppress a bleak smile yesterday over police plans to tighten security around television stations in the city. Among the concerns is that terrorists may try to commandeer the cameras and microphones to get their message out and spew anti-American venom.
Now, there is no question that precautions should be taken to preserve the safety of television outlets and, above all, their workers. Even a die-hard newspaper chauvinist recognizes that.
But what are we, some backwater run by army guys in sunglasses and tailored uniforms?
You worry about losing control of the airwaves in a place like Myanmar, the country formerly known as Burma, or in Romania back when its Communist tyrant, Nicolae Ceausescu, was overthrown. We're talking about places where there isn't much more than one camera and one microphone, and he who controls them may have the whole country in his hands.
But this is a city with more television stations than restaurants that can make a decent pastrami sandwich. It isn't Romania under Ceausescu. No one person or group can rule the airwaves.
So let's say that terrorists manage somehow to get past the security posts in Rockefeller Center, grab Chuck Scarborough's chair at WNBC-TV and go live with their talk of holy war and American perfidy. Except for a few bleary-eyed, bleary-brained viewers who may wonder why Chuck suddenly changed his hair color, everybody will understand that something very strange is going on.
The only real issues will be how to regain control of the television studio and make sure that no employees are hurt. What are the chances of many New Yorkers falling under the spell of the terrorists' blather? They are probably slimmer than the Rangers' hopes of winning the Stanley Cup.
Nor is this the only example of New York's fears not meshing fully with reality.
To stick with Rockefeller Center, that is where scores of tourists show up every morning, waving and screaming outside the NBC studios for the benefit of the "Today" cameras.
On Wednesday, mere hours before the war began, the weatherman Al Roker stood on the street, trying to look as serious as he could while reporting the forecast for Baghdad and other Iraqi cities. There he was, talking about the conditions for impending combat, while people behind him shrieked and held up their "Hi Suze" and "Love You, Mom" signs, as if it were just another day in America.
At the very moment that President Bush announced the start of the war late Wednesday, hundreds of people filled the New York State Theater at Lincoln Center, for the New York City Opera production of "A Little Night Music." There was not a hint of anything untoward taking place beyond the reach of Stephen Sondheim's nuanced words and music.
In this week of war, New York magazine devoted its cover to "52 Relaxing Escapes" for "Weekend Getaways." Well, why not? It was almost enough to make one wonder, though, whether it really made more sense to reach for the sunscreen instead of a gas mask.
SOME companies have been giving employees quickie lessons in dealing with possible chemical, biological or radiological attacks. This exercise cannot hurt. But will it actually help? That depends.
For instance, the word at one seminar this week was that certain chemical agents smell like geraniums. If you detect that odor in, say, Grand Central Terminal, take it as a possible warning to clear out. Of course, if you happen to be one of the millions who have no clue what a geranium smells like, you may be out of luck.
Many New Yorkers are comforted that the police now stand guard along 96th Street, inspecting trucks headed south. But one professor at Kingsborough Community College said yesterday that, for him, this reinforced an old reality that 96th Street is a border separating the part of Manhattan that "counts" from the rest of the borough.
The major television stations lie south of the border.
Not to make light of a serious situation, but it is just possible that the people most eager to seize control of the cameras may not be terrorists at all. There are plenty of television watchers who may think there is no other way to put an end to "Joe Millionaire," "Are You Hot?" and the other so-called reality shows.