Shaddup, Shaddup, Shaddup!!!

Feet up on the ottoman, laptop perched upon the new padded lap desk I got this past Christmas (thanks, Sue), and a cold beer on the end table. I figured that I'd surf a bit and maybe even get some writing done. Normally, I'd put on some music, but for some reason this time I just put on the T.V., possibly to catch up on things after an excellent week on the California coast and Sideways wine country.

I flipped a bit and decided upon Fox News' Hannity and Colmes, if only because they had on a gaggle of talking heads about the recently found kidnapped boys from the creepy pizza parlour manager. I ventured out into cyberspace to check my old favorite haunts (mostly geeky music stuff) and found myself looking up to see a teaser banner going into commercial about child actress Dakota Fanning involved in a rape scene in an upcoming film. Oooh, this should be juicy, I thought. I was a fool to believe that any discussion of this would be civil.

I kept darting about on the web while looking up occasionally to see if the Fanning thing had come up yet. I kept hearing what sounded like the din at a typical mall food court. Too many fucking people talking at one time. I paused at the keyboard once to look at a four way split screen with the quartet of hosts and "experts" all blathering away in a cacophonous racket that made no sense to anyone for about a minute and a half. It was the talk show equivalent to pro wrestling.

Finally, the Dakota Fanning story came up. Hannity and Colmes had on someone from a Christian film panel (blah blah blah) and a UCLA film professor (yak, yak, yak). So, it seems that little miss Fanning has appeared in a film in which her character is raped, not implicitly, but onscreen. This truly has a shocking value, but the details are sketchy. My first thought was that this will be an issue far before anyone has actually seen the film and I was so right that I wanted to high five myself.

Hannity asked a question of the Christian Whatever Group For Family Whatever and this guy got a few seconds to make an admittedly good point about the possible dangers of a depiction of pedophilia. I listened and could not disagree at all with his first salvo. Then, Hannity changes his tone and angles his question to the UCLA guy like a spear to a fish in shallow water. The Prof listens and starts to answer when he's interrupted four words in, not by his "opponent", but by Hannity. I was so fucking pissed that I yelled at the box of wires and tubes, forgetting that my wife was asleep down the hall.

"Shut up, fucker! Shut Up!!! Let him fucking answer the question! Motherfucker. He's not even letting this guy answer the goddamned question. Oh, you fucking bastard." I collected myself and sucked air through my teeth wondering if I'd woken the little woman. No stirring sounds from the bedroom, so I turned back to the fray on the screen.

Now the UCLA guy had gotten a couple more questions thrown his way worded like "So, you're in full support of child porn?" and "What you're saying is, that the depiction of a child being raped can possibly be considered art?". Nice, level playing field that Hannity gives his guests. The Christian Family Values For Americans That Believe In God In Heaven guy got open ended questions like, "What do you make of all this?" and "Does this seem like something that Americans need to see?".

My favorite part was when the UCLA guy asked the Holy Americans For What God Told Us To Watch On T.V. guy if he'd actually seen the movie. (To be fair, it's not out yet and I don't know when it's coming out, but if the news has been leaked, I imagine there are screening versions out there for review). The Divine Patriots Of Godly Movie Censors guy made every move in his repertoire to not answer one simple question.

I'm going to take a thousand liberties with this recreation of the exchange.

UCLA guy: Answer me this, did you actually see the movie?

Godly McChristian: What is important here is that we have to be concerned....

"Did you see the movie?"

"The fact that the scene is depicted on screen......."

"But have you seen the movie? Or the scene for that matter?"

"What we have to focus on here......"

"Sir, have you seen the movie?"

"What America should be concerned with is the value system that is failing us now...."

"That's fine. What I want to know is, have you or has anyone from your organization seen the movie?"

"I think what is important is that we as a nation....."

"Have you seen the movie? It's a one word answer"

Pause.

"Well, I'll say this. I personally have not seen the movie, but...."

"There you go. Now can we discuss this from the same perspective. No one talking here has actually seen the movie, but we can talk about the possible ramifications of a child rape scene in a movie in what must actually be a hypothetical sense because it doesn't exist yet on the cultural horizon."

Hannity then pops off with some shot at UCLA guy yet again with the "so I guess child porn sits okay with you?" and sends all of us into a commercial break and another blathering yell-fest about Iraq or Hillary or whatever. I used to listen to Colmes' radio show before the station he was on here went under and what I want to know is, who castrated him? I didn't even know he was on the show until he teased a segment on Obama and Hillary. I want his job; come into work, have make-up put on, get into a suit that you didn't pay for, ask Hannity what tonight's show is about, and basically hang around like a seagull for your opportunity to get a few words in before being shooed away. I would love that. And, he gets his name on the show without actually doing anything. Nice work if you can get it.

I felt unclean after watching that mess. I've seen plenty of it before and usually turn it off a few seconds in. What passes for discourse on television today was derided just a half generation ago as trite daytime talk show hairpulling and chair throwing. Somewhere, years from now, our mindless descendants will erect a statue of Morton Downey Jr. on the Mall in Washington next to Geraldo's, which they paved the Reflecting Pool to build.

Honestly, it turns me off so much that I now see the rantings of sports fans calling in on Monday morning sports talk shows as being rational and concise. No wonder that I watch America's Funniest Home Video reruns instead of this garbage. I used to think that I was polluting my mind and wasting my time by watching TV Land airings of Cheers and The Andy Griffith Show, but now I realize that my conscience rests easier when I laugh at characters written for television than when I laugh at those without character appearing on television.

Last Hurrah By The Sea

Next week at this time, I'll most likely be leaning on the rail of my room's deck, just having seen the sunset over Morro Rock, pulling on a Cohiba and sipping a glass of port. I'll be able to flick my ash on the gangplanks to a number of commercial and recreational vessels without effort. The patrons of the neighboring restaurant who've paid dearly for their view will wonder if I'm on my own deck or if I've doled out a sucker's dollar to take my stance against the darkness that falls on the Western Shore. They'll be wrong on both counts. For I will be claiming Unit B of Grey's Inn as my own. It's likely that their dinner bill came close to a night's stay at this funky old place and I did not pay ten bucks more than the maroons up the street that have to see the water through power lines, trees, and rooftops.

I'll battle with the glitter-sized tobacco bits that stubbornly march their way to the back of my tongue so that I have to rake them forward with my Upper Central Incisors, just to spit them into the Pacific Ocean's rocky shore. I'll give the seagulls as many crackers as they want, so long as we keep certain Poop Treaty clauses in effect;

Law 1, clause 7: at no time will said poop land upon the givers of bread-based sustenance, especially in their hair.

Law 2, clause 9: in the spirit of the aforementioned treaty between humans and flight-gifted shit-rainers, efforts will be made to avoid deck furniture and open containers of alcohol.

The breezes from the bay will chill me to the bone, but I will be warmer than I'd be at home in Fresno's brown haze during the day and misty fog at night. Odds are good that I'll have sunshine at some time each day, but I don't even care if it rains.

A round or two of golf over in Los Osos will sandwich a day of CD shopping in San Luis Obispo's awesome record stores. I usually experience a little serendipity at least once in Boo Boo's and while Cheap Thrills takes a little more patience because of the huge selection, the payoff is usually worth the grief from Mary for taking so much of our trip flipping through musty old records and CDs. Usually a round or two of craft brew from Downtown Brewery or maybe a tall draft of Firestone before shopping keeps her from looking at her watch every few minutes as I frantically scan thousands of CD spines, looking for familiar or interesting bands at rock bottom prices. Maybe this time over, I'll take her wine tasting first. Who could rush a music geek in paradise with a nice and warm glow from dozens of tiny glasses of wine?

We'll probably catch the BCS game Monday night at Legend's, our favorite haunt in downtown Morro Bay, walking distance from the hotel (and anywhere else we need to be). It's a really cool local bar and once Mary found the last drops of a very limited production of Jameson's Irish Whiskey that really rung her bell and she hasn't been able to find a place anywhere else in the world that has even heard of it. Talk about serendipity. The bartender that we usually see reminds me strongly of the late John Entwhistle and I always punch up some Who on the jukebox in his honor, a little inside joke for Mary and me.

When we return to the real world after a few days of slow life on the coast, it will be a new pace for me as I actively looking for work for the first time since I quit last June. I'm anxious to say the least, but I'm excited at the wide open prospect of not even having the slightest idea of what I'll be doing for a living. Months from now, when my new job is not so new anymore, I'll look back to this time and smile, remembering what it felt like to be on the brink of the complete unknown. I'll also probably wonder if I thought I'd ever be doing "this" for a living, whatever "this" is.

But for now, I look forward to that cigar and port. Oh, who am I trying to kid? It'll be a bottle of Firestone Double Barrel Ale. Port! Sheesh....