HURRICANE, SMURRICANE

I am becoming a cynic, which according to Webster's is "a person who believes selfishness motivates human actions and who disbelieves in disinterested points of view".

And at least so far it is only with regards to the media, not all human actions.


When CNN, MSNBC, Fox News, etc. cannot find:



a) Another SURPRISE SURPRISE Republican candidate to SURPRISE SURPRISE announce their race to the SURPRISE SURPRISE White House,






b) Something more about the American debt to make us panic about being repossessed by China, be convinced that Obama is leading us to the destruction of the Constitution, or dig out the atomic bunkers from the 60's, and/or

c) A relatively minor earthquake in an area inexperienced with tremors but definately prone to panic...







Then the first major hurricane of the annual (i.e. each and every single year) hurricane season becomes

OMGTHISISGOINGTOBETHEWORSENATURALCATASTROPHEEVER.

If Irene does remain a Category 5 and does major damage on the East Coast, killing thousands of residents, flooding Manhattan, and destroying human civilization as we know it, then I will have to eat my words.



But if it causes just some high waves, a lot of rain and not much else, like every other hurricane every other summer on the southern east coast, can we PLEASE learn to not panic about everything that rushes in to fill the news stations vacuum of thirty minutes?!

USED CAR SALESMEN

I might be sexist, but I did expect to find at least one female car salesperson.


I approach car lots with sheer dread, thinly veneered by a bravado of a no-nonsense attitude. I literally tell the first person I see, "Can you find me someone who wants to sell me a pickup today?"


I walked around a lot of lots - I sat inside quite a few cabs - and I drove one truck I may actually end up purchasing, if I can talk them down to a reasonable APR rate (by sheer misfortune, the Toyota Tacoma is selling well enough that they don't need to offer the 0% they have on almost all of their other vehicles).

But why can't they just put them on a shelf (theoretically, of course) with a price, and you pick them up, put them in your cart (still figuratively), and check out? Yes, people make money the way it is done now - and I don't live outside a large-enough town to do the bargin-comparison-who-can-make-me-a-better-deal.
 
Okay, girlfriend, take a deep breath, and just get ready to make the plunge. 

THE SHOE ON THE OTHER FOOT

As a parent, there are times that your heart simply jumps into your throat.

When your child does not get off the school bus you have been waiting for.

The first time they drive off in your car without you.

Their first date, or dance, or year at college.

Having a child is having your heart live outside of your body.

Last night, my son got to experience that sensation.

I had told him I was going to be at a church meeting Thursday evening, and I even had put it on the family calendar.

However, my husband decided at the last moment to also attend this same meeting.

So our son came home to an empty house - no note from us about where we were - and only one car gone (which somehow threw the world every more off balance).

And the dogs refused to tell him where we had gone to.

He called our cell phones (which were both off since we were at the church) - called his sisters - the state highway patrol - he even called the emergency room at the hospital just to make certain we hadn't been in some horrible massacre or terrorist attach (which would have been masochist bliss for his dad, that's for sure).

Poetic justice... at last.