Haz-Matters

Where oh where did my sense of humour go? I’ve been checking under the bed, in closets, as well as in the refrigerator next to the organic vegetables (too serious) - to no avail. My humour is playing perverse games with me. One minute I feel a quiet chortle slipping out from under the cloak of my furrowed brow, but the sound of laughter fades as it makes an attempt to break through the face mask I’m wearing to stave off the first whiff of radiation we have been told will soon hit the shores on the West Coast of America.

I’m prepared for the onslaught, I tell ya’. A mask may not be necessary in my case. I’m so full of radiation from the hundreds of x-rays my body has been through in my life that the glow once thought to be the inner goodness of my being is simply my personal radiation fallout.

Let’s take a look at those who are in closer range than the West Coast is to the nuclear reactor explosions in Japan. What can be said/written other than caring, empathetic words to all in that lovely country who are affected by the disasters of late? Nothing funny about what they are going through, is there? Nor is there anything to flog beyond the obvious: nuclear power plants.

Where the focus of a bit of wry black humour can be found in the midst of sorrow and deep concern is on the expressions of several reporters on the ground trying to look professional when you know that of all of the disaster's they have covered, they would rather be anywhere else but there - in the vicinity of testy nuclear reactors. Probably another reason why Anderson Cooper decided to evacuate the disaster site on Monday.

Poor Anderson. Wherever he goes to cover the news these days still comes across as if he’s being assaulted by Kathy Griffin on another Times Square New Year’s Eve romp. What is his choice? Watching Kathy toss his $$$$$$ glasses to the crowd and trying to remove his clothes; being whacked upside his silver fox head in Egypt, or now, in Japan, where he might feel vulnerable without Hazmat gear. Manhattan with Kathy may win out. Then again, Kathy can be rather radioactive at times….

Last night while watching local and national news, I noticed a strain on the faces of many seasoned reporters. A well-respected local newsman covering the story was stumbling over his words – completely out of character – and each shot of him with darkness in the distance reminded me of what a kid looks like when they’ve been sent to the corner of the room based on bad behaviour. His body language said “I want to get out of this place, what did I do to deserve this assignment?” Whoa. Such a vision and listen caught my attention. Made me feel really safe and secure, for sure.

But hey, I told myself, he’s not used to this kind of coverage, so it might be best to ignore his obvious fright. Moments later, Ann Curry’s story of the devastation and how she brought a family together via a pleading tweet popped into view. Oh my. Ann’s hair was all awry and she looked a tad jumpy. The smooth tone of her comforting “all is well” reporting voice had gone up several octaves. Gulp.

Surfing around other networks, a similar tone is heard when reporter’s are asked by their news anchors (who are sitting safely in Manhattan studios), “How are you doing? This must be a difficult time filled with tension for all.” Staring through sleep-deprived reporter’s eyes with as much poise as they can present, the answers by many pro's have been fairly consistent:

Words:"We’re doing all we can…”
Visual: Arched eyebrows, strained confidence.
Words: “For now, no one knows what’s next but we’re on safe ground and doing well.”
Visual: Clears throat, briefly looks away from camera to the ground.
Words: “Considering that the aftershocks continue to rattle the nerves of Japanese citizens left homeless from the disaster, people are calm.” 
(Wavering voice, scared-sheetless eyes.)

Bravo to the brave reporters from all countries who dare to walk into the cracks of history. Just try to look a bit more like NBC’s Lester Holt whose on-camera steady tone and fabulous natty garb with stylish scarves conveys a savoir faire attitude as if he’s on his way to a lovely evening at the local sushi bar. Now that’s an encouraging sign.