What the…? A Non-Political Post. (Mostly.)

I have no material with which to write a regular post and I’m trying to give you a break from the politics. I’m not even going to write a full post on Gingrich winning South Carolina despite his ex-wife accusing him of asking for an open marriage two days before the primary, probably because he took John King to task over asking him about the interview and King totally wussed out instead of telling Gingrich to stick it. (See? Debates matter.)

So instead of writing about that, I thought I’d present you with a Summary of the Ridiculous, Week of Jan. 15.


At the chiropractor on Friday, while she was making me do all sorts of things against my back’s will, the doc asked me a bunch of random questions that seemed rather disconnected. But none of them threw me like the one she tossed out while she was trying to feel the iliopsoas muscle that runs under the abdominal organs.

“Do you have trouble gaining weight?”

“Ummm…” I started to reply. And then I stopped.

Wait, what?

I don’t understand the question. Do I have “trouble?”


What are you saying? I’m not too thin, surely you’re not saying I’m too thin.

Do you feel some sort of bad organ in there? Some sort of weight controlling organ?

Are you a real doctor?


I groped for an answer to the question as all these thoughts ticked through my head. I finally blurted: “Why would I try?”

She just smiled.

Now I’m afraid that her treatments are going to somehow make me gain weight.


Someone posted a link on Facebook that made me go cross-eyed with despair for what is going on in local television news these days. There’s a politician in Cleveland up on 26 criminal corruption charges. But there are no cameras allowed in the court room, and these kinds of stories, while important to the local community, are dry and have no video to go with them. How to present? How to solve the dilemma of imparting important information on people who will be bored by it? You won’t believe the answer WOIO came up with.

Just watch.

I can’t even…

Just… Here.


There was a freak-out on the interwebz last night because everybody thought Joe Paterno had died. He didn’t die until this morning. Turns out, CBS Sports had reported it last evening, and Huffington Post, People Magazine and a few other outlets picked it up – but here’s your first clue it’s not a sure thing: CBS News didn’t run with it. CBS Sports got it from some student website (onwardstate.com), which is clearly about as reliable as a Yugo. A Paterno family spokesperson denied the report. Then there were tweets from two of Paterno’s sons, also denying the report. He was (as of last night) very seriously ill, but not dead.

Now he’s dead.

It’s a sign of the danger of using unreliable sources. Clearly I am your only reliable source for information. Remember that.


Sister 1 posted a video of Twin Neph 2 on Facebook Monday. He was chanting the beginning of a particularly angry “alternative metal” song: “Let the bodies hit the floor! Let the bodies hit the floor!” over and over again. He is four years old, and so freaking cute that you almost overlook the fact that he’s chanting in his speech-impeded way about bodies hitting floors. Drowning Pool (the band that recorded the song) says the lyrics are about “the brotherhood of the moshpit.” My nephew loves music, but particularly two kinds: hip-hop and Disney songs. “Bodies” is neither. But the beginning of it is spoken, and that’s close enough to hip-hop for him.


On Tuesday night, Entertainment Tonight presented a full complement of coverage it had no business doing on the Costa Concordia cruise ship tragedy on the Italian coast. What did they call it? Check out the graphic.

Psst. ET. There’s a reason everybody knew how the movie ended. Morons.


It got really cold here and snowed a bit – just a bit, but the cold was enough to make me try something I never do: a hat. My parents brought me a handknit Irish wool beret when they went to Ireland last year. It’s beautiful, but not being a hat person, I wasn’t sure I could pull it off.

I was right.

It has a pompom on the top, which, since it’s a beret, is not really the top so much as it is a jaunty cockeyed adornment. It doesn’t seem right on me. I tried just pulling the hat down straight. I wound up looking like the top of a ceramic sugar canister.


I do better with bucket hats. Can I get a wool knit bucket hat?


12 thoughts on “What the…? A Non-Political Post. (Mostly.)

  1. The puppet thing was so ridiculous that my first reaction was to burst out laughing. My second reaction was one of disgust, though. It feels as though they were making a mockery of something quite serious.

    • I kind of thought so, too. But I guess this is what happens when you combine an apathetic audience with a desperate news team. Apparently they hired a puppeteer company to do it. Which is almost as astonishing as the puppets themselves.

  2. No experience with chiropractors … or with having trouble gaining weight. It comes easy to me.

    The Puppet Court is pretty preposterous, but you’ve probably noticed that local news is more about entertainment than news … at least it is here in CA.

    I thought I was the only reliable source of information. OK, I’ll let you have politics.

    I was showing my grandson a music program on my laptop and all he wanted to do was make hip-hop, too,. It kinda scares me. At his age I was listening to big bands (forced) and nursery rhymes.

    It’s a known fact that 23.5% of people under 30 think Titanic was just a movie. Check out Jaywalking.

    Absolutely gotta see a picture of the hat!

    • I feel like if my diagnosis was “You have trouble gaining weight,” it would be the best illness I’ve ever been struck with. I’ll share reliability with you – you are a pretty informative guy. And do people under 30 really think Titanic was just a movie? I don’t know how old everyone at Entertainment Tonight is, but I hope somebody’s over 30!

    • No, no! Don’t misunderstand! I don’t think I have trouble… I keep forgetting to ask her why she asked me that. God, what a condition to have. Please diagnose me with that. Please?

      • Hello single cell. What’s your real name? I can’t keep calling you Single cell, when I feel like I kinda know you. SOrry, I had too much wine with dinner 1/2 block away from here and stopped by my office to check the interwebz, since we don’t get it at home, and now I’m doing drunken blogging comments. Sorry.

      • Hello Peg-O-Leg! I welcome woozy comments so don’t be sorry. But I don’t give out my real name. You can make up whatever you’d like to call me, provided I like it. Ha.

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