Dear Diary

In the business of television there is but one Bible. It’s known as The Book. It’s the comparison of your station's programming versus your competitors, as conducted by research companies, most prominently, Neilsen.

The Book tells broadcasters and their advertisers who is watching what at a certain time. Those ratings determine how much money broadcasters can charge their advertisers. Advertising on a popular show = lot of money. Advertising when few are watching = not much money.
Programs are yanked of the air due to a bad Book. Careers are made, or ended, by a bad Book. News reports become special reports to help get a good Book.

When I was in broadcasting we tailored our programming to get a good Book. High on the agenda of staff meetings were discussions of the previous Book or the upcoming Book. While we always tried to attract viewers, we knew the bean counters upstairs depended on a good Book to keep the lights on and the paychecks from bouncing. Hence, a good Book is important to everyone in broadcasting.

When a Book was good, it was due to our excellent planning and execution. When a Book was bad, it was due to incompetent viewers who couldn’t fill out their survey properly. We knew they watched us, so why did they tell the research company they were watching Oprah when they were watching us? How hard could it be to write down the program you are watching, especially when so much is at stake?
I recently found out.

I got a phone call from Neilsen asking me if I wanted to participate. After agreeing, I was sent what is called a diary. It’s a booklet where I list the people in the household and fill out a form for every day of the week, indicating who is watching what. It seems pretty simple and it is, normally.
Nielsen also sends you five one-dollar bills. Yes, $5 for my week's efforts. Research has shown Neilsen (and they would know) that survey participants appreciate five one-dollar bills more than one five-dollar bill. I guess it’s the new math.

The first thing I noticed about the diary was how little space they give you to write the information (call letters, channel number and name of program). Having ample room to write anything is appreciated since my handwriting is lousy most of the time.
Then, a few days before the survey period was to start I broke my arm. Yes, the right arm that I normally write with. So now I was writing using both hands to hold my pen.
Did I mention that I was in pain for much of the time and taking Tylenol 3? One of the side effects of Tylenol 3 is that you don’t care much about writing down what program you are watching, never mind the call letters or the channel number. You really don't care what you are watching. Hence, a lot of entries for The Family Guy.

Plus, the recent digital conversion means awful reception if the wind is blowing. Or not blowing.
It was hard to take my diary duty seriously.
I did enjoy the power of having the diary. Face it, when you are watching tv you always wonder why some programs remain on the air. “Who watches this crap?”, right? Now, I had some input.
When I would flip through the stations and come across a particular local news program that I disliked, I would pause briefly and laugh. “No ratings for you!”, I said to the anchor on the local Fox affiliate. I said that several times while channel surfing. Then I’d go to the station that I felt like watching, or at least one that was more deserving of my time and comments to Nielsen.
I imagined an anchor losing his job because he annoyed me too much and fell one diary short for the week. That’s show biz, I guess.

It was strange to think that years ago, someone with a diary might have said the exact same thing when they saw my face on their television. Heck, I probably would have said it myself!

When the week was up I put my diary in the mail.
I felt sort of bad that I was in such lousy shape to take my obligation seriously. I mean, the comments to the anchors I hated were deserved, at least in my book, but sometimes I know I didn’t pay attention like I should have. Sometimes I dozed off as soon as I made my diary entry.
Sometimes I woke up and forgot what program I had intended to watch. I was grateful that my friends who are still in the business are not in this market. Had they been, I would have been much more attentive. I promise.
While I may not have been happy with my effort, I did realize that maybe I did as well as anyone else would have.
I’m sure we’ve all wondered how some programs stay on the air. Now we know the truth: it’s because someone with a diary in one hand has a bottle of powerful narcotics in the other.