Reality TV? I Don't Think So

Viewers of the hit show Desperate Housewives who live in areas prone to tornadoes have been critical of Sunday's episode that featured a tornado hitting Wisteria Lane. They said that the behavior depicted on the show was more in line with an expected hurricane (for which residents generally have lots of notice) than a tornado (which usually strike with just moments' notice, and no one knows in advance where they will hit until that funnel cloud forms).

I think they're right. I didn't grow up in Tornado Alley, but in the concrete jungle of New York. Still, I thought it amusing that characters were making all these preparations, planning to "wait out the storm" in their cellars, were stockpiling water, and - I must have missed this, but several people said they saw it - putting masking tape on their windows. I also thought it odd that objects as heavy as cars were lifted and slammed down on the ground while people standing nearby weren't as much as knocked down.

Defenders of the show say, "It's just TV." Well, people get a lot of their ideas and beliefs from what they see on television. A tornado is a very serious situation, capable of bringing death and destruction to anyone or anything in its path. I do believe that TV shows have a responsibility to try to paint a realistic picture of life-and-death situations. People get blown away or hit by heavy falling objects in tornadoes. While heavy rain from hurricanes can last for days, tornadoes are over in minutes, and taping windows is pointless against this kind of wind.

I've seen plenty of misrepresented situations on TV. An episode of the excellent and now defunct Lifetime series Any Day Now had a would-be author learn at the last minute that she'd signed with a vanity press . . . and she had an attorney representing her interests. Completely off the wall (unless the attorney was a complete charlatan who didn't even attend law school), but not particularly upsetting. No one's life depended on it. But God forbid some fool learns a funnel cloud is headed their way and thinks they have time to run to the store and get a supply of water or to go outside and tape their windows because of what they saw on TV.

"I will never say anything in my lifetime . . .

. . . that will make any of these young women at Rutgers regret or feel foolish that they accepted my apology and forgave me," Don Imus told his audience (both live and in the radiosphere) as he began his first broadcast at his new home, WABC-AM. "And no one else will say anything on my program that will make anyone think I did not deserve a second chance."

It's one thing to say that you'll keep your own mouth zipped, but it's something else to speak for other folks. Considering that the black dude who first referred to the women's basketball team as "hard-core hos" before Imus took the mantel and made his own slur remains at Imus' side, well, I just hope he was listening.

I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that I believe him. He sounds chastened, humbled, and like he's displaying the sensitivity a man of his years should have.

So don't let me down, Big Mouth.

Going Once, Going Twice

All you Luther lovers, get ready! Dawson and Nye Auctioneers will be auctioning the belongings of the late singer next week.

The items to be sold include shoes, suits, housewares, various awards, luggage, artwork, and furniture, including these twin mink-upholstered (yes, mink) armchairs.

After all, is a house really a home without something like these to sink your body into?

Do You Know What Today (okay, tomorrow) Is?

So asks the musical question by Tony! Toni! Toné! The answer: It's our anniversary. Yes, tomorrow is my anniversary, 16 years. We are a little older and a lot heavier. Last year in Chicago it fell on a Friday and we had a foot of snow. I got the day off. Hubby was extremely busy and went in around 2PM, when the roads had been cleared and the electricity was back on at his office.

This year they are again expecting a storm, snow, sleet, real messy stuff. So we'll likely do the same thing we did last year . . . chill out patiently, knowing that in three weeks we'll be leaving for vacation in Florida!

I wonder - as I consider that I might have to cook dinner in rather than go out to eat if it's really slippery - what are the odds of crummy weather on the same date two consecutive years?

This weekend I will be cleaning up some projects in preparation for submission. This is the real grungy part of writing, and I'm giving myself two weeks to get it done. I already know from last year (because If These Walls Could Talk was a May release) that I will likely be dragging galleys along on my vacation (it's a May thing; those galleys are due back in New York right after the first of the year, so, future published writers, avoid May publication dates if you're hosting the holiday dinner, giving a New Year's party or have small children). I see no film classics scheduled, so I'll probably work in some shredding as well. Maybe even get a jump on my tax return and clean up the receipt file. Then again, maybe I'll just read a book.

Wishing a productive weekend to all!

The Atheist and the Bear (a Modern Fable)

An atheist was walking through the woods, exclaiming aloud at the beauty of nature.
"What majestic trees!"
"What powerful rivers!"
"What beautiful animals!"

As he was walking alongside the river, he heard a rustling in the bushes behind him. He turned to look . . . and saw a 7-foot grizzly bear charge toward him.

He ran as fast as he could up the path. He looked over his shoulder and saw that the bear was closing in on him.

He looked over his shoulder again, and the bear was even closer. He tripped and fell on the ground. He rolled over to pick himself up but saw that the bear was right on top of him, reaching for him with his left paw and raising his right paw to strike him.

At that instant the atheist cried out, "Oh, my God!"

Time stopped.

The bear froze.

The forest was silent.

As a bright light shone upon the man, a booming voice came out of the sky. "You deny my existence for all these years, teach others I don't exist and even credit creation to cosmic accident. Do you expect me to help you out of this predicament? Am I to count you as a believer?"

The atheist looked directly into the light, "It would be hypocritical of me to suddenly as! k you to treat me as a Christian now, but perhaps you could make the bear a Christian?"

"Very well," said the voice.

The light went out. The sounds of the forest resumed. And the bear dropped his right paw, brought both paws together, bowed his head and spoke:

"Lord bless this food, which I am about to receive from thy bounty through Christ our Lord. Amen."

Tell me, am I the only one . . . .

Who thinks that heroes and heroines in romance novels who vow to never love again because their heart has been broken need to be, if not retired permanently, at least seriously cut back on?

I read maybe one or two romances a year, and the moment I see this in the text I groan . . . and usually put the book down. (This was Saturday, and I haven't picked it up yet.) Any hints on why this situation is so grossly overused?

Just curious.

Same old lovable me, with a few changes

After I wrote 'til I was empty-headed this weekend (don't know what's gotten into me); I changed the look of my blog. It's something I've wanted to do since my pal Gwyneth Bolton spruced up her blog recently. (Yeah, monkey-see, monkey-do.) It took forever to find a design that a) I liked, and b) that a technically un-savvy person like myself could figure out how to drop into Blogger. I also expanded my links to other blogs, something else I've been meaning to do.

I finally got around to getting the ball in motion to transfer my domain name from my old site to my new one that my husband designed for me. Check me out if you get a minute; I'm at www.bettyegriffin.com . I've still got some work to do on it, but at least it's up. Now I've got to set up my e-mail, which I've lost in the transition.