Sunday Sundries

Have you watched any of the Sunday news programs today?

B-O-R-I-N-G. Talk-talk-talk. Justify, justify, justify. Blame, blame, blame. Shame, shame, shame on all of them for being so very predictable, lightweight, basically not terribly informative. Granted, what can most of the pundits and guests say about Libya without appearing to be in agreement with Gaddafi’s military tactics against “his” people?

What more can be said regarding nuclear reactors other than any country using them is endangering their populace and/or behaving with responsibility by conducting routine checks on their safety, willingly shutting down reactors that aren’t reacting very efficiently. Or that Fukushima Dai-Ichi will be shuttered when it has ceased to burp its last radioactive gasp? Wow. Such a decision must have been painful.

Not that I expected brilliant commentary on either subjects. In fact, I didn’t expect anything and that is precisely what I received as a viewer = nothing.

Why watch those programs, then? Well, I do try to be aware of the news and views of those in authority (or the last-minute replacements when a touted guest suddenly cancels). If you watched any of the programs and learned something new, then good for you. Otherwise, many of you may have avoided the morning sleeping pills and chose, instead, to watch guys in funny-looking outfits skate around ice-covered rinks with their little sticks digging ditches into the ice via their dangerously sharp skating spikes.

Or, it’s all about basketball for others. Now that’s a sport to which I can relate. Bounce the ball, toss it to a team member, dodge and duck and toss it up into the air in hopes it will land inside the knitted layer of the hoop in a gratifying whoosh. Instant gratification! My kind of game. I’m an American, after all, and getting a result within minutes is what we’re all about these days, isn’t it?

Heaven forbid any of us have to wait for more than a few minutes in a line anywhere for any reason without pouting. The “End of Days” won’t be fun over here, I tell ya’. Modern America isn’t used to standing in lines for bread – only for heavily hyped blockbuster films and concerts. In truth, I’m one of the worst offenders and have always been so. But then, I don’t like to stand still for very long because I become very cranky. Just ask my mother about my temper tantrum's when we would go shopping for clothes when I was young.

Standing at a clothing rack for longer than a minute would make me very tired and irritable and she would have to take me to a lovely lunch in the store’s linen-covered tabled tea rooms to shut me up. Perhaps all I wanted was the food rather than the blazer…..

But I digress – again. And will continue to do so.

It’s raining in California today. Heavy at times. Unusual for the season. The forecast is that the damp weather will carry on for a while. And it’s all my fault if you ask my cat. That’s correct. I am the responsible party for what happens outside on the balcony.

My little friend looks out the glass door where strange beads of water land in grand splatters across her playground and turns to me with a very irked expression in her yellow eyes, then bellows at me in a whine that is accusing.

If she could talk, she’d be saying “Why are you doing this to me? Don’t you know I need my morning stroll? Cut it out – NOW!”

I shrug and respond, “Yes, sweetie. It’s raining and I have nothing to do with it.”

“Oh yes you do” her next yowl implies. Then she rolls over and looks up at me with pleading eyes. “Then pet me and I’ll be quiet,” she “tells” me. And I do. And she is quiet. For a moment.

The next request from my feline friend is to turn up the heat so that she may roll over on the floor heating vent and block all heat from reaching me on the other side of the room.

And so it goes.

At least we have heat, a home, and no aircraft firing missiles into our neighborhood. Or a shattered city in ruins with radiation infesting the food supply.

We are blessed – for now – and will enjoy our Sunday while it lasts.