I had my car in the shop Wednesday morning for a while. It was in mainly because earlier in the week my son had dropped by and we were hanging out (my generational characterization) and when I backed the car out of the garage he wanted to know 'how long has it been sounding like that?' I had no idea what he was talking about so he called a friend who is mechanically apted and has access to tools and all the other garage accessories and Wednesday morning I headed over to have a mesh heat guard removed from my catalytic converter where the weld had broken. I have no idea what any of that means--except the sound the car used to make when I started it, under what felt like my seat, is gone. The coffee maker in the kitchen is brighter than I am-why am I surprised that the car is as well?
Siting in the dealership's customer waiting area while the car was worked on I was able to watch one of the network's morning news shows. They're all very similar, to include the sunny and cheerful personalities of the battalion of hosts and hostesses who populate the sets of each one of them (this one had an audience--I've worked in news and don't think I like the idea of folks on bleachers in the studio while I'm reading wire copy. Maybe just me.) and this was a rare morning for me since I'm usually at work and don't really watch the Marconi Mafia too closely at this hour. Between us, don't think I'll be doing too much more.
The big story, more of an extended feature, was on how Steve-O and whatever her name was, are no longer on Dancing with the Stars. Somewhere in the world yesterday morning, people were interested in the ongoing expansion of talks between Iran and some of the major world powers on nuclear power, a topic that has been a source of disquiet for years in the Middle East. Not on the television I was watching. Not sure where the transmitter was located but, with my apologies to Marshall Efron and the Nutrino News Network, there's a field of folly someplace with a metal tower.
In recent weeks, we've all watched and read stories that have caused us to furrow an eyebrow and wrinkle a nose and wonder WhatTimeFootball? (You're right Jeff, that's not offensive at all). Is the news making us stupid or are we making the news stupid? The discussions on applications of the economic stimulus package make my head hurt but reports that Lindsay Lohan is solo and single again opens my sinuses right up.
And even if Southeast Connecticut is a bit out of the mainstream in terms of hoopla and hurly burly, we have newspapers that try to report on issues touching the lives of those who live here, even those NOT named Jack Cochran or who aren't fans of New London (CT) High School Football. Somewhere, oh yeah on the front page of both daily New London County newspapers yesterday, were stories on crime, local budgets, returning military service members from Iraq, but the big ticket item, in terms of on-line reader response and comments was JC--and, sorry to disappoint His Holiness, the Pope, not that JC.
Intending no disrespect--how many teachers do you imagine New London High School (or any high school) has and how much ink do you suppose a daily newspaper devotes to changes in status of any one of them, on average? So what should we deduce from the tumult and turmoil in the Whaling City at the moment? Do those posting and counter-posting positions on this issue not realize that Mel Gibson is getting a divorce? That Kevin F and Britney S have been reportedly swapping more than spit? Who the heck is left on American Idol? And what are these Somali pirates doing on my TV? Is this the next season of Survivor, already? Is there any chance we can teach Paris Hilton to surf off the coast of Yemen? How hot is that?
-bill kenny
Ramblings of a badly aged Baby Boomer who went from Rebel Without a Cause to Bozo Without a Clue in, seemingly, the same afternoon.
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