Wheel of Weather

Cable television sure sounded like a good idea. Give the people more choices. But what was once a blessing is now an oozing and crusted open sore upon our most sensitive of body parts. I have over 300 channels at my house and I swear most of the time there is nothing on. But one thing I can generally settle on is the Discovery Channel in high-definition. Nothing is more soothing to me. The deep blues of the ocean. The windswept ripples of the desert expanse. The bloody lump that once was a sickly gazelle being gnawed upon by starving-mad hyenas. I feel like I gain an insight into the culture of another land that is completely foreign to me, like Siberia or New Jersey. Just like the Discovery Channel, today’s blog will teach you about a peculiar routine in a foreign land: Washington, DC.

Winter happens every year, and in DC you never know what you are going to get. Some years we get slammed by snow storms, some years we get no snow at all, and some years we are completely overwhelmed by our underground carnivorous neighbors, the Morlocks. They spend a week harvesting the young and sickly, egg a few houses and vanish back into the ground. I don’t care much for them. The point is, Washington weather cannot be predicted. And yet we have weathermen, and people watch them and base decisions on what they say.

In some cities, satellites are used to forecast weather patterns for up to a week in the future. In Washington, DC weathermen have the Wheel of Weather. It is back stage at the CBS affiliate. Channel 9 weather guru Topper Shut gives it a good spin and patiently waits with pencil in hand. Click-click-click-click goes the wheel as it spins through its options: SUN/ SNOW/ RAIN/ WINTRY MIX/ MORLOCK/ ICE/ SUN/ SNOW/ RAIN/ WINTRY MIX/ MORLOCK/ ICE. And then they have their answer: MORLOCKS.

So then the news comes on.

ANCHOR WOMAN (“Mary”): …and now that Bunny and Panda our best friends. Isn’t that great Bob.
ANCHOR MAN (“Bob”): It sure is Mary. Much greater than our weather I hear. Let’s go to Topper in STORM CENTER 6 and find out what we can expect for tomorrow’s rush hour.

Topper: Thanks Bob. Well, you got it right. Today we had some sun and saw temperatures in the high fifties. Tomorrow a cold front will be rolling through and that’s going to lower temperatures to below seasonal averages, possibly stir up some flurries and usher in a Class 5 Morlock invasion. They will most likely emerge from man holes and subterranean metro stops and select some humans for consumption. After that, we’re looking at a, hold on a sec…
click-click-click-click, we’re looking at a wintry mix.

MARY: Thanks Topper, looks like Old Man Winter isn’t done with us yet. All schools have reported closing for tomorrow because of the wintry mix predictions. And the red and yellow lines will be closed due to the oncoming Morlock armies.

BOB: When we come back we’ll unveil a new hazard. Should H-2-O become H-2- “NO”. Scientists say water is now more deadly than fire. We’ll be right back.

Now in DC, when these ridiculous forecasts are made, citizens flock to the grocery store to load up on milk, bread and eggs. I guess we get a hankering for French Toast or something. If we get three inches of snow, schools will be cancelled for days, grocery stores will be empty and accidents will litter the beltway (even if the road was plowed). And because we’re so hyper-sensitive to snow, these forecasts are big news and can shape our lives for days. And the weathermen seriously have no idea. But because they're generally wrong, we know what isn’t going to happen. They’re calling for sun tomorrow here, so it may be a good idea to stay off the yellow and red lines. Trust me.

Jose Canseco: A Rhinoceros-Sized Heart Full of Love

Do you know what a pink elephant is? Most of you have heard that expression but for those of you who have not, a pink elephant is a poker hand in which the player has a full house of aces over kings. Upon revealing this hand it is customary for the player to mimic elephant trumpeting sounds and slowly sway from left to right as the other players rhythmically chant “pink elephant”. What a game. The term pink elephant is also, and more often, used to describe something that everyone knows exists but is afraid to confront.

For example, let’s say you’re all watching TV and Aunt Carol walks in from the kitchen with a Doberman attached to her leg. It is clear to everyone watching TV that Aunt Carol could use a little help, but Desperate Housewives is on and for some reason that’s worth watching. For anyone to acknowledge Aunt Carol’s struggles the TV viewing would be interrupted, and so no one says a word or makes a move. Aunt Carol’s valiant struggle with man’s best friend is a pink elephant. It takes a real hero to confront these guys, and luckily such a hero has emerged.

His name is Jose Canseco. He is a former baseball slugger who won an MVP Award, appeared in many All-Star Games, and received the Roids Ragemonger of the Year Award from Reader’s Digest. He knew what was going on in baseball, just like everyone else, only he refused to remain silent. He cared so much that he took the time to write a book exposing the pink elephant and all who helped hide it.

Jose Canseco’s story is much like that of American legend Johnny Appleseed, but instead of spreading apple trees across America, Jose spread the joy of injecting anabolic steroids into the posteriors of baseball players. It allegedly started in Oakland where he injected Mark McGwire and Jason Giambi, then to Texas, where he injected Rafael Palmeiro, Juan Gonzales, and Ivan Rodriguez, and finally to Sesame Street, where he injected Snuffleufflegus and “Big” Bird.

I know what you’re thinking. If Jose Canseco cared so much about baseball, then why did he inject so many players, and why does he continue to tout the benefits of doping? Well, the answer is simple. Jose is a bitter, envious, greedy man whose brain has been reconstructed by years of steroid abuse. His level of reason is in the same range as a hubcap from a 1991 Ford Tempo. Jose even says that one day people will discover that steroids can enable people to live longer lives. Scientist Robert Wilkinson says, “Oh God no, that’s not true at all. This is the most irresponsible thing I’ve seen since that day Aunt Carol stumbled into the TV room.”

But Jose doesn’t just expose the people he allegedly helped use steroids, he also exposes those who may have, and those who didn’t but he still doesn’t like. He says former Oriole great Cal Ripken didn’t do steroids but he was a media darling because his dad played baseball and he was white. Hmm, let’s see, Cal Ripken was Rookie of the Year, been to 20 All-Star games, was the All-Star MVP twice, the American League MVP twice, won two gold gloves, had 3,000 hits, has a world series ring, and oh yeah, smashed the consecutive game streak. He also stayed after games, sometimes for hours signing autographs, funded the Ripken Reading Foundation, and now has invested in a stadium and little league series for children across the nation. What a bum.

The truth is, Jose’s light was a flash in the pan. One moment it was very bright, and then nothing. He wants that limelight back and he wants money. If you can’t do it by talent, then you may be able to do it out of spite and vindictiveness. In this case it looks like it’s going to work for him, as his book is on its way to being a bestseller. Oh well, I leave you with this:

If you see Jose Canseco trying out for your company softball team, make sure you got those titanium underpants on.

Reflections of the Super Bowl

Is there any day more special, more deeply rooted in American culture than the Super Bowl? The answer is a loud and emphatic yes. One day that comes immediately to mind is my birthday. I’m sure many of you feel the same way…about my birthday. But there are some of us who live for the Super Bowl. It becomes the core of our conversations, we throw humongous parties, and I’ve heard of people who actually sold their house so they could go to the Super Bowl.

It is also a beautiful day of self-discovery. Some of you may have discovered a previously unknown gambling addiction. Others of you successfully found your body’s threshold in ingesting fried chicken wings. Congratulations. You are that much closer to completing yourself.

But what of the game itself? What of the courageous Patriots and high-flying Eagles? Many people say that the Patriots have solidified themselves as a legitimate dynasty with this impressive victory. I’m not convinced.

Let’s look at the previous most well-known dynasties and do a little comparison. The Shang Dynasty, one of the earliest for which we have written evidence, ushered China well into the Bronze Age and unified nobles and peasants through the ingenious concept of the “well-field” system. However, the Patriots defense exploited a reckless Philadelphia offense coming up with three key interceptions. Only time will tell which dynasty most impacted furthering the advancement of mankind. But c’mon, three interceptions off Donovan McNabb is pretty amazing.

And let’s not forget famous hot-head wide receiver Terrell Owens. His doctor told him not to play with that broken ankle, but T.O. told the world that God himself cleared him to play. Now if this is true, then why did the Eagles lose? That’s a soul-searching question indeed. All I can tell you is that the Lord works in mysterious ways. I’m sure there’s a lesson for T.O. here and I hope he learns it and continues strong in his faith journey.

Did you see the halftime show with Sir Paul McCartney? I was certainly impressed that he still could do a live performance with such energy. Even my friends expressed their surprise, “I thought he died like ten years ago”. But no dead man could play Drive My Car or Hey Jude like that, except perhaps Paul McCartney. Oh wait….

And of course we must discuss the commercials. All year companies give us bland, mind-numbing ads, saving up their magic for the one great ad they put out on this special day. Did you like what you saw? The only one I was excited about was the Batman Begins preview. I sure do love Batman, and I was wondering who the villain in this movie was going to be. The preview gave a brief glimpse, and my prediction proved true. It looks like the Caped Crusader will be going up against the nefarious and necrotic Sir Paul McCartney. I smell Oscar. No I really do, he’s in the cubicle next to me and I don’t know why, but I think he’s putting on nail polish.

It’s so sad that this day only comes once a year. I wish I had a cryogenic chamber. Then I could have my kitty with me forever.

The Big Stomp

Before there were computers, Play Stations, and tetanus shots, children used to think the most fun thing to do was go to a circus. Back then people would go to big tents in some field to see real ferocious animals, goofy clowns, and a whole freak show. Now, thanks to MTV, we can see these things from the comfort of our living room. Don’t get me wrong. This is not a blog about lost innocence. While the circus seems tame and fun, it can be a death trap.

In the past, there have been deadly fires, fatal falls, and the occasional lightning strike. But the real danger is 13 feet high, weighs up to 6 tons, and enjoys peanuts. No, it’s not a fire engine with the ladder up. That’s an amazingly stupid guess. The correct answer is: the elephant.

Today, CNN.com reported yet another elephant-related fatality. Apparently this is a common occurrence. From 1990 to 2003, captive elephants killed 65 people and injured 130, according to Circuses.com (The World’s #1 News Source). These deaths often are a result of trampling or being sat upon, and are always described as accidents. But are they?

Elephants are much smarter and craftier than we give them credit for. Think about the facts: big head to house big brain, excellent familial traits and intercommunication, show memory and mourning for dead family members, can achieve flight simply with enlarged ears, and the rare pink variety are invisible to human eyes. Such a creature certainly doesn’t make “accidents”.

And unsurprisingly, they don’t like being chained up for our entertainment. You think that stench at the zoo is unavoidable? Ha! They know what they’re doing. I use the same tactic at home to drive away salesman or end difficult conversations.

So what are we to do? Some say the offending elephants should be destroyed. Yes, brilliant, give the elephant nation another martyr. No, the key is communication. I propose we have a conference with their leaders and draft a treaty of non-aggression. We give them their freedom and they stop sitting on us. This seems fair to me. But we would need a persuasive negotiator. I would recommend Ozzie Osbourne. He’s fearless, uncompromising, and recognizes the paramount importance of verbal abuse.

Together, we can usher in a new era of human-pachyderm relations. One without fear, stench, or “accidents”. It’s time for the circus to re-define itself anyway. Perhaps if it was on television and the trapeze lady got to pick one clown from a group of 10 to marry. Each episode she would kick one off by throwing a pie to the face. Hold on a sec, my phone is ringing.

Hello? Fox Broadcasting? How did you get my number?