I've been doing some thinking about the balloon family in Colorado. I'm not sure it was a pre-planned hoax. But, if it wasn't planned, they sure were quick to milk it, and then to throw it up. Maybe the balloon flight wasn't staged, but I feel pretty sure the vomiting was.
It's a sure fire way to get an interviewer to stop asking embarrassing questions. I'm guessing it's something we'll see politicans add to their repetoire of evasive measures. They'll probably have to start wrapping the President's teleprompter in some sort of plastic wrap.
Actually when you consider the absurd accusations politicans hurl at one another, it would be less offensive if they were just hurling at one another. Watch closely in the future and see if Sean Hannity doesn't have little bottles of Ipecac available for his guests.
But, once you get beyond the regurgitation, there's something else that's been bothering me about this whole event. Here's my thinking...the father and mother are pretty darn fortunate that it was just their kid that could have gotten in the balloon and not the family pet.
If a dog had been endangered, you can bet your life that that couple would have their showboating butts in jail. Every animal rights group in the country would have been up in arms.
But thankfully it was just a child. And, really what's so bad about a runaway balloon that can climb to 10,000 feet and, evidently, carry a child along. It's not like the father left the keys in the pickup, or left the gun cabinet open. Really, let's be honest. Haven't we all left our spacecraft loosely tethered to the barn door once in awhile. It happens. Big deal.
Of course, it can't be overlooked that the boy is, from everything I can see, a bratty, obnoxious kid. When you first hear that a child may be floating wildly through the atmosphere, you immediately feel shock and sadness. I guess it's not human nature to allow yourself to think that there are some kids whom you'd like to see lost in space. Or, am I just too jaded?
I hear the dad has been pitching a reality show to the networks. Here's an idea for him, and I'll give it to him free of charge. How about a series entitled Parent Gone Stupid? Must see TV, if you ask me.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Friday, October 9, 2009
FEAR OF CHECKING IN
I’m in Nashville. It’s a great city and I would come here again, for vacation. I’m surprised at how much it has to offer. But, since I’m very uncomfortable when I am not complaining, I’ll move on and tell you about my trip down or out or over or whatever.
I have no fear of flying, but I have a tremendous fear of checking in at the airport. For starters, I’m so afraid that I’ll forget my drivers license that I check my wallet about every fifteen minutes to make sure that it hasn’t gone anywhere.
But there’s a lot more that frightens me and I think the airlines are to blame for that. This trip is the worst yet from that aspect, because as soon as I got in the ticket line at the airport, some nice lady from Delta told me that I had to use one of their computer kiosks to get my boarding pass. I know that doesn’t sound so bad, but it gets worse. As I’m entering the information, I’m asked if I’m checking in luggage. I push a button to show I am checking one bag. Then this computer has the audacity to tell me I have to pay it twenty bucks. “Twenty bucks,” I scream to no one in particular, but that nice lady comes over and explains that even one bag costs extra.
“How about the use of the restroom?” I ask.
“Well, you can pay five dollars a visit, or fifteen dollars for unlimited use,” she explains.
“Suppose I don’t pay, but then I get on the plane and I have to go?”
“It’s six dollars at the door,” she tells me.
I decide to forego the restroom, and proceed to finish up the computer stuff and get my ticket. I’m afraid I’ll be asked if I was interested in paying for a seat on the plane, but happily, that’s still included in the airfare. Although they were measuring passengers’ derrieres to see if we needed to pay additionally for being over endowed.
Next I go to security to get screened and analyzed in order to get to the gate. There are two signs. One tells me that the security threat is high. They tell me it’s orange, but there’s no orange light or anything. Why just call it a color if you’re not going to show me the color?
Then there’s another sign warning me to be on guard for anyone who looks like they have swine flu. I listen for any oinking sounds. Then I get to the check in person and I’m asked if I have any flu-like symptoms.
“I’m surprised you didn’t ask me about hemorrhoids,” I say in my typically very hilarious manner.
“Wait until you get to the next guard,” the woman tells me. “We won’t need to ask.”
Ouch
I swear within a year airport check in will be a totally nude procedure. Maybe then I’ll qualify for some sort of discount.
I finally get on the plane. I’m still fuming over the baggage charge, so when the flight attendant is handing another passenger a hot drink, I try and tip her arm. I’m figuring if she scalds me, I can ask for my twenty back. She doesn’t. But she does give me a bag of peanuts. Now I know how they’re spending that twenty. No, not for the eight peanuts in the bag, but for the spaceage material that houses the peanuts. I break three teeth just trying to rip it open.
Anyway, to make a long story a little longer, I finally get to Nashville. As I said, it’s a great city. I’ll tell you more later, but I just wanted to share.
I have no fear of flying, but I have a tremendous fear of checking in at the airport. For starters, I’m so afraid that I’ll forget my drivers license that I check my wallet about every fifteen minutes to make sure that it hasn’t gone anywhere.
But there’s a lot more that frightens me and I think the airlines are to blame for that. This trip is the worst yet from that aspect, because as soon as I got in the ticket line at the airport, some nice lady from Delta told me that I had to use one of their computer kiosks to get my boarding pass. I know that doesn’t sound so bad, but it gets worse. As I’m entering the information, I’m asked if I’m checking in luggage. I push a button to show I am checking one bag. Then this computer has the audacity to tell me I have to pay it twenty bucks. “Twenty bucks,” I scream to no one in particular, but that nice lady comes over and explains that even one bag costs extra.
“How about the use of the restroom?” I ask.
“Well, you can pay five dollars a visit, or fifteen dollars for unlimited use,” she explains.
“Suppose I don’t pay, but then I get on the plane and I have to go?”
“It’s six dollars at the door,” she tells me.
I decide to forego the restroom, and proceed to finish up the computer stuff and get my ticket. I’m afraid I’ll be asked if I was interested in paying for a seat on the plane, but happily, that’s still included in the airfare. Although they were measuring passengers’ derrieres to see if we needed to pay additionally for being over endowed.
Next I go to security to get screened and analyzed in order to get to the gate. There are two signs. One tells me that the security threat is high. They tell me it’s orange, but there’s no orange light or anything. Why just call it a color if you’re not going to show me the color?
Then there’s another sign warning me to be on guard for anyone who looks like they have swine flu. I listen for any oinking sounds. Then I get to the check in person and I’m asked if I have any flu-like symptoms.
“I’m surprised you didn’t ask me about hemorrhoids,” I say in my typically very hilarious manner.
“Wait until you get to the next guard,” the woman tells me. “We won’t need to ask.”
Ouch
I swear within a year airport check in will be a totally nude procedure. Maybe then I’ll qualify for some sort of discount.
I finally get on the plane. I’m still fuming over the baggage charge, so when the flight attendant is handing another passenger a hot drink, I try and tip her arm. I’m figuring if she scalds me, I can ask for my twenty back. She doesn’t. But she does give me a bag of peanuts. Now I know how they’re spending that twenty. No, not for the eight peanuts in the bag, but for the spaceage material that houses the peanuts. I break three teeth just trying to rip it open.
Anyway, to make a long story a little longer, I finally get to Nashville. As I said, it’s a great city. I’ll tell you more later, but I just wanted to share.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
WHERE ARE HUNTLEY AND BRINKLEY WHEN YOU NEED THEM?
I've come to a painful realization. Basically, I've concluded, and I believe correctly so, that the world I grew up in has changed dramatically. "Duh," you might be saying, and I would applaud your having said that. I suppose there have been so many dramatic changes that my statement is somewhat of a no-brainer, but I'm referring to one particular aspect of the world.
Having worked for newspapers, magazines, and radio stations, I've always been particularly interested in news and news gathering. I was never a Pulitzer winning type of guy, but I think I recognize true journalism when I see it. The problem is, I rarely see it anymore.
What we have today is a National Enquirer world of journalism, and, in saying that, I may be doing a disservice to the National Enquirer. I'm guessing that there are some so-called journalists (sometimes pronounced "bloggers" or simply "morons) who probably think the National Enquirer is one of the nation's most erudite publications.
But, what used to be laughed at as inane, asanine, and imbecilic, is, today, the stuff of Fox News Alerts. I'm not picking on Fox, all of the news networks do it. Just look at the hours and hours of coverage CNN devoted to the death of Michael Jackson.
Sensationalism is the order of the day. Remember the old adage (or whatever you call those things) that "Dog bites man" is not a story, but "man bites dog" would be? Today it's not a story unless either the man or the dog chewed the other's leg off, and then disgourged it whole on camera. And then the victim, man or dog, would have a camera shoved in front of his/its face and he would proceed to weep bitterly about how losing his leg was such a crime and evidence of discrimination of some sort or another. I've even seen hurricanes and tornadoes accused of bigotry.
The only good story these days is one that can completely humiliate at least one person, even if that person (or maybe, especially if that person) is too stupid to realize that he/she has been humiliated. Today's journalists are really more opinion givers, and 99% of the time their opinion is centered around how horrible someone else is.
It's true, celebrities, athletes, and politicians provide enough ammunition for some really juicy stories, but progressively, the news gatherers find new and more interesting ways to juice up even the already pretty juicy stories. And once they get all that juice flowing they keep it flowing for days and days, or until a juicier story comes along.
Here's just one example - Farah Fawcett's battle with cancer and her relationship with Ryan O'Neil and their junkie son were big stories up until a few short hours after she died. I'm sure the media could and would have continued to milk those stories for days afterwards, except for one thing. Michael Jackson died that same day.
Immediately, no one cared about Farah anymore. I'm guessing even Ryan O'Neil was on the phone with Jesse Jackson (the sixth Jackson brother) in an effort to see how he could get some face time at the hospital or the morgue or the eighteen-hour tribute memorial or wherever.
Of course that's just one small example. It's a pattern that could contribute to the eventual, total downfall of life as we know it.
Presidents, and other politicians, have always had their detractors, but today, no human on earth will be able to succeed in office. The media is intent on destroying them. It doesn't matter if it's Bush or Obama or whomever, there will be opponents to tell you how horrible they are and polls to prove how horrible the public thinks they are.
The only thing that can keep the politicians and their scandals and other nefarious deeds off the airwaves is if celebrities keep dying. So with the fodder the politicans are producing, my suggestion is that they come up with a way to kill at least one celebrity a day. That may sound a bit far-fetched, but I'm already wondering if Nancy Grace doesn't have someone on her payroll kidnapping children.
Reporting the news has become dirty business in a dirty world. And mark my word, on the day the world comes to an end, there will be some reporter somewhere telling you that God is a Nazi.
Having worked for newspapers, magazines, and radio stations, I've always been particularly interested in news and news gathering. I was never a Pulitzer winning type of guy, but I think I recognize true journalism when I see it. The problem is, I rarely see it anymore.
What we have today is a National Enquirer world of journalism, and, in saying that, I may be doing a disservice to the National Enquirer. I'm guessing that there are some so-called journalists (sometimes pronounced "bloggers" or simply "morons) who probably think the National Enquirer is one of the nation's most erudite publications.
But, what used to be laughed at as inane, asanine, and imbecilic, is, today, the stuff of Fox News Alerts. I'm not picking on Fox, all of the news networks do it. Just look at the hours and hours of coverage CNN devoted to the death of Michael Jackson.
Sensationalism is the order of the day. Remember the old adage (or whatever you call those things) that "Dog bites man" is not a story, but "man bites dog" would be? Today it's not a story unless either the man or the dog chewed the other's leg off, and then disgourged it whole on camera. And then the victim, man or dog, would have a camera shoved in front of his/its face and he would proceed to weep bitterly about how losing his leg was such a crime and evidence of discrimination of some sort or another. I've even seen hurricanes and tornadoes accused of bigotry.
The only good story these days is one that can completely humiliate at least one person, even if that person (or maybe, especially if that person) is too stupid to realize that he/she has been humiliated. Today's journalists are really more opinion givers, and 99% of the time their opinion is centered around how horrible someone else is.
It's true, celebrities, athletes, and politicians provide enough ammunition for some really juicy stories, but progressively, the news gatherers find new and more interesting ways to juice up even the already pretty juicy stories. And once they get all that juice flowing they keep it flowing for days and days, or until a juicier story comes along.
Here's just one example - Farah Fawcett's battle with cancer and her relationship with Ryan O'Neil and their junkie son were big stories up until a few short hours after she died. I'm sure the media could and would have continued to milk those stories for days afterwards, except for one thing. Michael Jackson died that same day.
Immediately, no one cared about Farah anymore. I'm guessing even Ryan O'Neil was on the phone with Jesse Jackson (the sixth Jackson brother) in an effort to see how he could get some face time at the hospital or the morgue or the eighteen-hour tribute memorial or wherever.
Of course that's just one small example. It's a pattern that could contribute to the eventual, total downfall of life as we know it.
Presidents, and other politicians, have always had their detractors, but today, no human on earth will be able to succeed in office. The media is intent on destroying them. It doesn't matter if it's Bush or Obama or whomever, there will be opponents to tell you how horrible they are and polls to prove how horrible the public thinks they are.
The only thing that can keep the politicians and their scandals and other nefarious deeds off the airwaves is if celebrities keep dying. So with the fodder the politicans are producing, my suggestion is that they come up with a way to kill at least one celebrity a day. That may sound a bit far-fetched, but I'm already wondering if Nancy Grace doesn't have someone on her payroll kidnapping children.
Reporting the news has become dirty business in a dirty world. And mark my word, on the day the world comes to an end, there will be some reporter somewhere telling you that God is a Nazi.
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