Diecation

On Tuesday, Mrs. Apron and I are leaving Pennsylvania for Ireland. It's kind of like leaving Joan Plowright for Halle Berry. While I feel kind of badly for Pennsylvania, it's not like we're not coming back. Halle Berry's just a fling (that'll MAKE ME FEEL GOOD!) but we all know that my heart and soul belong to Dame Plowright.

In short, in spite of the fact that we're going to a historically-significant, lush, beautiful, cultured part of the word where it's approximately 60 degrees during the day: we'll be back.

In case you lack certain powers of observation, due to some cognitive disorder, Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, or the fact that you're half Betta fish: I'm pretty excited about the fact that we're going on vacation. We haven't been overseas since our honeymoon to Bali, and that was.... wow.... four years ago. We've been to Maine twice since then, but this here trip coming up is the real deal. The dollar against the euro sucks lumpy walrus nippies, and I'm kind of disappointed by that. In Bali, we were able to live like early 19th century plantation owners-- staying in five-star hotels for approximately twenty-two American dollars a night. In Ireland, it's not going to be that way. Of course, I haven't lowered my standards any to accommodate for the poor exchange rate; we're just going to basically go broke.

But that's okay, because it's not like we're saving up for anything important and supremely expensive coming up on the horizon. You know, like twins.

But, really, we know that we need this. This last opportunity to see strange sights without little knuckleheads screaming in the not-so-distant background, to have quiet meals, to have casual, kind of loud sex in another time-zone, to viciously judge (and not be) the annoying couple with ferociously wailing children on the airplane.

We need this. We need Ireland. And we're taking it by its sweet, pale, freckled titties.

I just hope we don't die.

There's lots of ways to die on vacation.

Don't look at me like that. If you think about it, you'll agree with me, because it's true. I won't even go into the airplane ride, which I am dreading. I'm really trying to not talk about it too much, but, obviously, I'm failing at that. I know all 136 people just survived that Guyana plane crash, and that's great for them, but two people were just killed in the Wright brothers replica plane crash. And these things happen in threes.

N'yah mean?

Seriously, though, it would be so cliché if we died on this plane. The "Today Show" and everything would make a huge deal about it, because we'd be two of the annoying Americans who died, and, of course, they would elevate our otherwise relatively meaningless deaths beyond any and all reasonable proportion because we're pregnant-- WITH TWINS!

Oh, God, I can't stand thinking about Matt Lauer's carefully creased brow and Ann Curry's empathic hand-wringing on the desk next to her "Today Show" coffee mug. Of course, we'd get lots of media coverage because we're white, but we're not blonde and/or hot, so maybe the coverage wouldn't be as extensive as it otherwise would be. You know, if we were hot and/or blonde. But we're definitely white, and definitely pregnant (WITH TWINS!) so that would get us on at the 7 o'clock hour for sure for realsies.

Aside from the obvious possibility of perishing in an air disaster, there are tons of ways to die once in Ireland. While provisional violence has calmed down recently, there's always the chance that some IRA lunatic will blow up a department store or a café that we happen to be walking past. Our tour bus could hit a suicide sheep rigged with explosives. We could be mugged and killed so some red-headed thug can make away with the waterproof shoes I just bought at Salvation Army for $5.99 in preparation for our trip. An inebriated pub patron could fall into us, causing us all to tumble down like dominoes, causing fatal noggin injuries on the curb.

Sorry, "kerb".

Weirdos.

We could fall to our deaths at the Cliffs of Moher. It happens. Apparently, in 2007, two people died there, though the Garda Síochána ruled it a murder/suicide, probably to keep the tourism trade humming along.

All this is to say that my wife deserves a shitload of props, because traveling with a neurotic asshole can't be all that much fun. This is also to say that, of course, having sex with Halle Berry might be extraordinarily jubilant, but it's probably safer to ball Joan Plowright.

By-Ass

If I hear one more thing about the bias of the media, I think I'm going to eat a container of sour cream with a whole bunch of overripe bananas mixed in there and then throw up on some old lady at a bus stop.

Don't judge me-- it's how I feel, so I can't be wrong.

NPR is liberal. Fox News is conservative. Mainstream media-- like "The Today Show" and "ABC World News Tonight" and all those annoying shows with John Stossel have routinely been accused of having a "liberal bias". That Andrew Breitbart (who, you know, has a few more followers than me, but whatever) went on "The Today Show" on Tuesday and repeated the oft-repeated line about the mainstream media's liberal bias when discussing his role in bringing down Weinermobile. Really, I think we talk so much about bias in the media that, after a while, we don't even know what the fuck we're talking about.

Not that this stops anyone, of course, nor should it. This is America, after all, where the less we know, the more we talk. And God Bless Us, everyone. Except that Tiny Tim, who hardly ever says shit, so fuck him.

If you've taken any 100-level journalism course, you of course know that journalism is supposed to be objective. What does that really mean, though? You're supposed to report a story, give both sides, let the reader make up his or her mind. Ja, Mein Fuhrer? Sounds simple, no? Well, it's not. If you ever listen to news on the radio, you can tell by an announcer's inflection what he or she thinks of the story, or what the news organization's parent organization would like the announcer to reflect in his/her recitation of the news item. Oh, Knight Ridder: stop telling David Hasselhoff how to drive.

I don't think it's anything revolutionary or anything that will have Dianne Sawyer taking off her top to say that there is no such thing as true journalistic objectivity. "The News" is always trying to get us to think a certain thing. For example, "The News" wants us to sympathize with people who "Overcome Adversity." Remember the homeless guy with the golden voice that every asshole from here to Omaha was Tweeting out their tuchuses about? Oh, yeah, remember when "The News" lionized him until he was given a job or two and some respectability?

Oh, yeah-- remember when he relapsed because he was given money but no counseling, support, or life skills to assist him with his new, improbable circumstances?

Oops!

Which was more reported? The YouTube sensation of finding him panhandling, or his (most recent) fall from grace?

Right.

The unfortunate latest turn of events in this story created what is known as cognitive dissonance, that is to say, it didn't fit with the "packaged" news item that "The News" wanted to feed you. It was like finding a sprig of cilantro in your chocolate mousse. And nobody wants that. Except food pervs.

I was thinking about this tonight because I just happened to spy a story that piqued my interest on Yahoo! News. (Can you really trust any "news" source that ends in an Exclamation Mark?[!])

"Cop Fired After Helping Fellow Officers in Distress"

From the opening sentence that follows this clever hook of a headline (hey, got me[!]), it is abundantly clear what this 'news' organization wants you to feel: that this officer was fired unjustly.

"It was a Saturday on campus when David Sedmak, a Rice University police officer, heard "Officer down, officer down!" on his scanner: Two members of the Houston Police Department had been shot downtown. Sedmak rushed to the scene to help his fellow officers."

"Wow! That guy's a hero!" Yahoo! News wants you to say, either out loud or in your head. The article picks up right where this statement you just made ends with:

"But Rice [University!] didn't see Sedmak as a hero. Instead, the university fired him, citing "dereliction of duty."

*GASP!* They "didn't!" you're supposed to say.

Oh, but they did. And, call me a contrarian, but I think they were right to do so.

See, the only reason Officer Sedmak heard that two Houston Police Officers were shot was because he had a scanner in his car. Had he just had his Rice University Police Department issued radio on him, he would not have known, because this Officer Down call would not have been broadcast over that frequency. Sedmak's response was unnecessary, seeing as half the Houston Police Department was flying to the scene of this double shooting (both wounded officers survived, by the way).

So, Sedmak responded to a call for help from another department, which might have been okay had he radioed his dispatcher to tell him/her that he was doing so. But Sedmak didn't make radio contact with his dispatcher, or his supervisor. He just sped off into the night to assist the officers. Which is an unfortunate error, because Rice University dispatch had no idea where Officer Sedmak was for around an hour, during which time they probably thought he was lying dead somewhere, and who knows what frantic efforts went on to raise him and/or search for him. When a police officer doesn't respond to dispatch over the radio for an hour, that's a crisis, because he's usually either incapacitated or dead.

Sedmak's heart was in the right place, but his body wasn't. As a law enforcement officer for nearly 17 years, that man should have known enough to contact dispatch and request permission to proceed to the scene of the shooting. But he didn't. And, in a job where following protocol is paramount as a safety issue, there needs to be accountability and consequences. Should he have been fired? I don't know. Maybe he should have received a reprimand. A suspension. Re-education. Or, maybe he should have been fired. Maybe there's other shit in his personnel file that we don't know about, and this was the straw that broke the sergeant's back.

The thing of it is: the Yahoo! News article, and its author, Zachary Roth, is guilty, through tone and text, of telling us what we ought to think and feel. And I don't need them telling me what to think and feel, just like I don't need Tiny Tim blessing me when I don't want to be blessed.

Thanks anyway, though.

Beautiful White Children Are Missing

20somethings amuse me, and I guess, as a twenty-nine-year-old, I can still say that and sound self-aware without sounding crusty. I often balk at the things they say and do-- the vapidity, the insipidity, the shameless vanity and unapologetic trendiness, the egomaniacal self-engorgement.

The overwhelming propensity to treat "The Daily Show" as an actual news source.

Oh, is this what being "counterculture" has become? Lame!

Then again, if you want lame, come join me, my snoozing wife, and the dogs on the couch for a round of "The Today Show." If you only got your news from "The Today Show," you would be convinced that the most pressing issues of import in our world are Tiger Woods' pink-seeking missiledick and Joe Biden proclaiming healthcare to be a "big fucking deal."

Which, by the way, it is.

Also, if all you watched for news was "The Today Show," you would be unalterably convinced that only beautiful white children go missing in America.

While I don't have real, hard-n-fast statistics to back up my claim (I don't need them-- this isn't a scholarly article-- I was never very good at writing those anyway-- far too much passion, you know) I can tell you that my anecdotal observance of "The Today Show" missing child content is overwhelmingly tilted towards photogenic white children. Just this morning, they announced that a girl named "Kayleah" was missing. Now, I admit that this is probably racist of me, but, when I saw the spelling of the name on the screen, I said to my wife, "Oh my God, are they finally profiling a missing black girl?"

My wife, of course, was asleep, her head thrown back on the sofa cushion and her mouth unceremoniously open, trying to catch another few minutes of pre-commute sleep. Needless to say, she didn't respond.

Then, a moment or two later, they showed a picture of the missing girl. White.

Living as I do just a couple of short minutes away from Philadelphia, I know that black children go missing-- because I sometimes watch the local news. The local news cannot possibly get away with singlemindedly promoting and publicizing the plight of grief-stricken Caucasian families whose children have been plucked from their grasp. In Philly-- black kids get abducted all the time: by perverts hanging around playgrounds and schools, by their parents or relatives, by their Baby Daddies, by criminals and by miscreants and by ne'er-do-wells, by, well, kidnappers. Sometimes they're returned safely. Sometimes, they're returned in bodybags.

Somehow, neither event seems to warrant the national spotlight.

There's an old news maxim: "If it bleeds, it leads." I suppose a mantra for the new age of news about abductees, and even murder victims could be: "If it's white, it sees the light."

When I had my old blog, I wrote a post that slammed the "New York Daily News" for repeatedly profiling the murders of young, attractive, white women. One was a former model, slashed to death on the subway, an inglorious end for anyone, one was found tossed in a dumpster like, well, like yesterday's "New York Daily News." One was stuffed between a mattress and a wall, killed by a jealous boyfriend. In the text of these articles, there was almost always some reference to the victim's physical beauty. The references were never in quotation marks, the comments of a family friend or a relative, but they were embedded within the text of the article, presented by the reporter as just another fact-- no different than the location of the crime or the description of the murder weapon. Words like "attractive," "beautiful," "very pretty" were all used liberally. And, after reading the fourth or fifth story like this, I started to think, "do ugly people get murdered in New York City?" and, if they do, do the reporters write:

"Silvio Carnacci, a foul-smelling, unshaven 54-year-old Italian immigrant with three real teeth and one hair-covered mole on his forehead was found dead in his apartment yesterday morning by two patrolmen from the 9th Precinct answering a distress call. One of the officers was 6'2" and handsome in a classic way with a Romanesque nose and broad shoulders, his partner, however, had chin acne and a slight limp."

Sometimes I think back to the night when Barack Obama got elected President of this country. At that time, my wife and I lived in the Germantown section of Philadelphia, and people were blaring their car horns all goddamn night, even banging on kitchen pots and pans with spoons in the middle of the street. I think maybe some of those people were heralding Obama's election as the beginning of the end of racism in America.

I don't know. I still only see pictures of missing white children on TV.

Inside the O.R.

There's a great scene in the bail-bondsman/white-collar-criminal buddy movie "Midnight Run," starring Robert DeNiro and Charles Grodin. And, no, I'm not talking about the scene on the freight train where Grodin asks DeNiro if he's ever "had sex with an animal."

It's a scene where Grodin and DeNiro discuss the finer points of "living in denial." DeNiro is eating a piece of disgustingly greasy fried chicken while Grodin stares at him in deadpan disgust. Grodin goes on to elucidate all the various reasons why eating fried chicken isn't good for you.

"I'm aware of that," responds DeNiro.

"Oh, so you're aware of all your behavior and still you continue to do things that aren't good for you."

"That's right."

"Well that's living in denial," Grodin's slightly pedantic character accurately surmises, a smug smile spreading across his thin lips.

This, in very short order, is how I feel about my relationship with "The Today Show."

If you've been one of the happy, frequently returning customers of this blog you know that I struggle dearly with my "Today Show" habit, and that it is inextricably linked to early morning cuddle sessions with my wife before she has to depart for work. On Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays, we wolf down breakfast so that we can watch "The Today Show" together on the sofa from 7:06-8:00. On Wednesdays and Fridays, our sessions are abbreviated, and we are able to watch until 7:31. All married couples get into routines. Some couples' routines revolve around night clubbing or seal clubbing, ours revolve around "The Today Show," antiquing, the occasional breakfast sandwich, Skip-Bo, and Victorian operetta.

I suppose I'm living in denial where my relationship with "The Today Show" is concerned. I know very well that it isn't good for me, and yet I continue my behavior in spite of this knowledge. And, really, it isn't good for me. It isn't good for anyone, frankly.

Why could it possibly be good for anyone to have to sit through a meticulous recounting of the tawdry details of the death of some perpetually intoxicated lesbian heiress who wasn't talented or attractive in any way? Why do I, in suburban Pennsylvania need to know about some kidnapped and I'm sure by now very dead toddler in Arkansas or whatever?

And why do I have to see some 81-year-old motherfucker getting his head cracked open by neurosurgeons in an operating room at Mt. Siani Hospital?

At eight-o-fucking-clock in the morning?

I mean, if you think that's good for you in any way, shape, or form, then you're living in denial, too.

It's all part of the series "Inside the O.R." with Dr. Nancy Snyderman, who just happens to be my least favorite post-menopausal woman in the world after-- whodathunkit-- Meredith Vieira! Dr. Snyderman is the Today Show's "Chief Medical Editor" though I'm not quite sure exactly what it is that she "edits" or what exactly she is "Chief" of. If she's the Chief Medical Editor, does that then infer that there are "Assistant-Chief Editors" or "Deputy-Chief Editors" working under her? Her title kind of reminds me of our supervisors at the private ambulance company I used to work for. They made more money than us, and wore white shirts instead of blue shirts, which was fine, but they had little gold ranking bars on their collars-- like in the military. But this wasn't the military, and they had no official rank. So I used to bust my supervisor's balls by calling him "Lieutenant" or, if I was feeling very frisky, "Two Bars."

I wonder if interns at "The Today Show" call Dr. Snyderman "Chief" and then snicker under their breath.

Anyway, Snyderman has a cloying, sychophantic presentation on the air, an obnoxious, self-important, authoratative air. She speaks and doles out opinions that are presented as categoric on everything, from Swine Flu to breast cancer, but, according to her bio, she's an Ear-Nose-and-Throat Specialist. After graduating medical school, she joined the surgery staff at the University of Arkansas and "began her broadcasting career shortly after."

How the hell does that happen?

In any event, this new series, "Inside the O.R." shines the spotlight on the media-hungry Snyderman (she appears on "The Today Show," "NBC Nightly News," "Dateline NBC," MSNBC, msnbc.com and hosts "Dr. Nancy" weekdays at noon, which leaves me to wonder how she's "on staff at the University of Pennsylvania Hospital and how tricky it must be to get an appointment in between all her various television and internet engagements) as she turns the camera on poor sick people having operations all week.

Monday was the cardiac surgery "for a person whose heart isn't working very well."

Tuesday was the C-section "for a baby who is just too big to come out the normal way."

Today? Fucking brain surgery, "and the subject is AWAKE!"

I can't wait till tomorrow. Maybe they'll be amputating some poverty-stricken diabetic's gangrene-ridden foot! Too bad they haven't yet invented Smellovision! Perhaps Friday, for the grand finale, they can surgically close Dr. Nancy Snyderman's mouth.

I'd watch that.

I'm sorry, but surgery is, I don't know, kind of private. I realize that, in this modern society, there is very little that is private anymore-- with celebrities and amateurs alike making weird sex tapes of themselves and people being able to see through your windows using Google Earth, but can't we just let these poor motherfuckers get operated on in private? Yeah, I know, they signed the release forms so they're just as guilty as "The Today Show" people who shoved the papers, and probably the money, in front of them, but what does this say about us as a society?

And, let's face it, the only reason the cameras are in there in the first place is because, secretly, it's the hope of "The Today Show" executives that something will go wrong-- because, let's face it, that's good fucking television. That's why auto races are filmed, for Christ's sake-- every drunk, trailer-trash person who cares enough to watch it is already there, peeing on someone else's R.V. The rest of us just want to see wreckage. The only reason film crews gathered to film the first take-off of the Airbus A380 in 2007 is because they were all hoping it would crash, and that they would have that beautiful bean footage.

Because, basically, we're all perverts who can't wait to see someone flatline in a New York O.R. while we're eating our "Smart Start" just before work.

And, even though we know it's true, that's living in denial.

Newsbites

This is, unfortunately, going to be a very quick and short post, because I am due at my sister's apartment soon. I am to bring coffee and breakfast for both of us. This is the price we uncles pay for wanting to see our cute, new nephews. Remember that.

While I'm not generally in favor of restrictions on the media, I do think it should be illegal for any television news organization to report on a story that features a video clip shorter than three seconds-- five when played in slow-motion.

My wife and I this morning suffered through a four-minute interview piece (and two 10 second teasers) about the baby carriage falling under the train (and miraculously, no one got hurt!) and the clip was played, honest-to-God, approximately twelve to fourteen times. I wish I could say exactly how many times it was aired, but it was a little difficult to keep track. It was played while the mom was talking, because we can't possibly be asked to look at a static image of some non-airbrushed, non-celebrity talking for fifteen seconds without being shown grainy video of her running after her child's carriage twice in seven seconds. And we certainly can't listen to Matt & Meredith banter about it together after the interview's conclusion without seeing the video again.

Twice.

The long and short of it is: news organizations, if you can even call them that, should be banned from reporting these non-stories that would never have made the news in the first place if they weren't caught on video tape to begin with. If they can't use the video clips responsibly (i.e., maybe showing it once, for Christ's sake) then they shouldn't be permitted to report on them at all.

And, for the love of God-- no more cars-driving-into-peoples-houses stories either, please. And no more bungee-cord jumps gone awry, or "routine traffic stops" gone awry, no more wild animals attacking people, no more celebrity nip-slips, no more children falling down wells, no more dogs falling down wells, no more children catching baseballs and throwing them back onto the field, and no more fucking Hfucking1 Nmotherhump1.

Please.

No more.