Malcolm Fleschner: The news goes off script

Like most Americans, I enjoy the occasional offbeat or bizarre news story, the kind TV news programs typically use to burn off the last few minutes of abroadcast. They typically involve some chuckling among the anchors while footage is shown of a cute scene, such as a mother grizzly bear at the zoo playing with a wayward kitten she’s adopted.

The problem is that too often these types of stories wind up being less entertaining or wholesome than originally reported, as when the grizzly decides to get frisky one day and turns the kitten into her personal piñata. That footage tends to inspire noticeably less lighthearted chuckling behind the anchor desk.

One such wacky story turned uncomfortable cautionary tale occurred last year with the case of the real-life Runaway Bride. At first, the nation was captivated by the story of Jennifer Wilbanks, a nervous bride-to-be who disappeared just a few days before her lavish, 600-guest wedding.

Admittedly, the story was not perfect. In the hands of a Hollywood screenwriter, the bride-to-be would have hung on until the actual wedding day, and then, just before the exchange of “I dos,” literally taken flight, perhaps by fashioning two fire extinguishers and a chafing dish into a makeshift jet pack.

Nevertheless, the story was good enough — or at least it was until some of the more sordid details about the case emerged, including Wilbanks’ phony allegations of kidnapping and sexual assault. We discovered that instead of suffering from a bad case of cold feet, the Runaway Bride was actually a woman with severe emotional problems. “Why have a script if no one’s going to send a copy to the story’s main character?” a distressed nation was left wondering.

Two other folks who recently failed to understand their proper role in a national media event were Elbert and Becky Higginbotham, an Oregon couple who disappeared for two weeks in March when their RV got stuck in a snowdrift on a remote logging road. The coverage of their miraculous rescue, including scenes of a tearful reunion with family members, was duly beamed out by the nation’s major cable outlets.

But then, in a shocking twist, the couple disappeared again. What are the odds, right? Wait, before you answer, you should know that among the viewers of the joyous rescue news story were Arizona police officers who were also looking for the couple, if for slightly different reasons. Apparently, the Higginbothams had been purposely keeping a low profile since fleeing drug and weapons charges in Arizona. Whoops! Readers will be relieved to hear that the couple has been located again, and should be safe from snow drifts once their extradition goes through.

Speaking of criminal acts, my faith that some delicious news items may actually live up to their billing was recently restored by the master of illusion himself, David Copperfield. Accosted on a Florida street by armed thieves after a performance, the magician used sleight of hand to trick the would-be muggers into believing that his pockets were empty. Talk about a real-world application of job skills! Experts rate this as Copperfield’s best off-stage magical performance since he tricked supermodel Claudia Schiffer into dating him.

But much as I love the true story of a famous magician using his craft to thwart a robbery, I admit there’s still room for improvement. A better script would have had Copperfield turning the table on one of the thieves by saying, “You’ve got plenty of money. Why look, there’s a quarter right here behind your ear.” Then he would vanish in a puff of smoke. Or maybe the Runaway Bride could grab him up while flying by with her jet pack. Whatever the script calls for.

Examiner columnist Malcolm Fleschner also regularly engages in sleight-of-hand, at least according to a recent audit of his tax returns.

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