I think I'm a blog failure. I only update once a month, and usually there are no pictures in which to ogle at. Yes, that definitely identifies me as a failure as a blogger. I hate blog failures. Why even keep a blog if you aren't going to update it with all the many exciting events in your life that make your life seem way more action-packed than most everyone else you know (that is the point of a blog, btw)? So I'm a hypocrite. I've been called worse. Seriously. Probably by you, the person reading this.
I think this month's blog topic is going to call attention to an issue much in need of such attention. The weather. Not the weather itself, but the weather being broadcasted 6 billion times a day on the news.
First off, I love the news. More specifically, I love the Fox evening News. Probably because I love Hope and Bob, and even Sandy who is looking a little more like a drug-addict than a news reporter. I accept Arrika, even though her name is spelled ridiculously and I have a hard time respecting someone who didn't take the initiative to legally change the spelling of such a horribly derailed attempt of an 'original name.' It's disgusting, really. But I digress.
I digress because I'm missing a key player in the Fox evening news. Brett Benson. The meteorologist. I like Brett. I like that he can laugh at himself and he takes the teasing of the anchors in stride. I like that he played 'college ball' and that I can use phrases like 'college ball.' I like the way he looks, the way he talks, and I like the way he does his hair. He seems like a good guy. The problem I have is not with him as a person, but what he does. And same goes for Jodi, Kevin, and the other local meteorologists for news stations.
See, I cannot stand, I repeat, cannot stand the amount of weather they shove down our throats during the evening news. And aside from it being repetitive, it's minutes upon minutes of satellite radar blurps of wind speeds and forecasts on pressure and humidity. No one cares, no one understands it, and no one wants to spend half their night praying Hope or Bob signs Brett out with, "Thanks Brett. That sounds like a bunch of crap I couldn't care less about. Next time, start and end with the seven day forecast and leave it at that. Let's not get fancy with something no one but God himself can predict." That would be refreshing.
So while I'm trying to find out how to avoid bed bugs aside from never going out in public again, I'm being informed through swishes of color and cycling clouds of mist just what the dewpoint is going to be for that night. Its outrageous! I feel like calling the station and giving them a piece of my mind. And after spending an entire day with a one year old who ultimately has decided to embark on a permanent fast, I have a lot of mind to give (literally, the boy maybe eats 300 calories a day. I'm dumbfounded how he's lasted this long). I just want to watch the news without the endless updates of highs and lows and just keep it to a simple, "Tomorrow is going to be cold. The next day not so cold. See you tomorrow."
