Fear and Loathing on the Weather Channel

The Weather Channel people are nuts. Hurricane season will convince you they’re crazed if you don’t already think so. Watch them for spell. Once in awhile one of the weatherpersons slips and says something like, “Yes! We think this one will make it to a Category 3 and it has a great chance of making landfall!” Then later on you hear, “Well, as you see, Carmella didn’t make it- fell apart in the Caribbean, but we still have hopes for Dexter.” I find it whoppingly strange that the directors don’t give the weathercasters hell when they give it up about how much they root for disasters, but what do I know about keeping a 24/7 weather channel going? Did you know they have a daytime show called, “It Could Happen Tomorrow!” Yeah. They make stuff up.

Ah, “daytime.” I now sometimes watch daytime. ( Oh by the way, in the U.S., if you mention “daytime,” you’re talking about TV. We all agree on that, at least.) For most of my life I easily avoided TV before the 6 pm news. Way too busy to sit down in the middle of the day to listen to talk, follow a soap, sleep to the sports channel. My ex-husband watched golf on weekends when he wasn’t playing golf, but I was excused from either misery. When my dad was still alive and pretty much confined to his armchair, he’d have one sport or another on TV, sound muted. Tennis was his thing, but he’d watch them all, even bowling if there were no other choices. Damn if I didn’t get drawn into the Tour de France every year for the last five years. The scenery! Oh,God.

Just lately, while lurking about on my own, I’ve become a Turner Classic Movies fan. Not every day, mind you, but if my heart keeps me going slow or the Florida heat keeps me in the house, I may indulge. That’s how I happened to watch “The Cobweb,” starring Lauren Bacall, Richard Widmark, Charles Boyer, Gloria Grahame and Lillian Gish. Some cast, huh? Vincente Minelli directed it, and John Houseman produced it. The film was about who was going to pick the new drapes for the library of an upscale mental hospital. All those talented, smart people spent considerable time and energy on this amazingly dumb movie. There’s a scene in it where Gloria Grahame, eyes blazing and in a fit of jealous, defiant, and yet somehow sexy rage, climbs a handy ladder with an enormous curtain rod and hangs her curtains, damn him!

Anyways, between the nutjobs on the Weather Channel and the general freakiness of some of the stuff on TCM and its ilk, I don’t think I’ll take over Dad’s armchair and watch “daytime” too often yet. Maybe only when James Franco decides to do a spin on General Hospital. Now that was cool.

What's New With Y'all?

Roberta’s husband had a stroke and has an aneurysm in his brain that's gotta be seen to. Means a trip to Shands over in Gainsville. Her thyroid’s acting up again. Sondra broke her back turns out. She fell and went to the ER because she knew she’d done something bad to her knee, but the broken back was a surprise. Now the poor woman is in a back brace and a leg cast. Art hasn’t had a binge in a year, but he’s got pain pills now for his back, and who knows where he’ll go with them. He’s done that before, you know. Gone from pills to beer to whiskey.

Business is down ‘cause of the spill. Not that you’d notice right off. You have to know what this place is like in a normal July to ‘preciate how empty the beach is. This is one tourist season when locals aren’t complaining ‘bout the damn traffic. It’s a sneaky thing. Even Debbie and Matt’s plumbing jobs are off. Places ain’t getting rented so there’s a lot less calls from property managers.

One thing though-we’ve had rain. So even if it’s 109 out there ‘cording to the heat index, the yards ain’t turned brown yet. Still green which is something I enjoy. Between the heat and the fleas, the neighborhood dogs are miserable. For dogs, I mean. Can’t get a dog down too bad unless you’re one of those cruel fuckers.

So, what are you gonna do? There’s good stuff, too, that’s for damn sure. Lindy and Mike’s baby was born over 8 lbs. and he’s eating like he wants to double that by the time he’s a month old. Hard on Lindy, though. Breast feeding. Carl’s working on a clean-up crew. Don’t know how they do it. On the beach in those boiler suits in this mess a heat. They say the oil stinks, too. Don’t know ‘cause I’ve stayed the hell away from it. BP station on Front Beach is gonna close, I’ll betchu. Ain’t a soul crying for them. Well. There’s local people owning the place that’ll have to get ‘nother line of business. Good luck to ‘em.

So, I got the word on heart failure. So? Doesn’t mean I’ll keel over tomorrow. Least I’m not out in that sun. House is cool and I got General Hospital, (James Franco’s been on it, you know) Dr. Oz, Ellen and when I need to, I get out. Maybe not like I used to, but what the hell anyway. Ain’t none of us is getting any younger. Dog and cat are doing good. God bless ‘em.