2001-10-31 - 12:16 p.m.
AMERICA UNDER ATTACK
AMERICA�S NEW WAR
AMERICA STRIKES BACK
AMERICA BOMBS THE SHIT OUT OF A BUNCH OF PEOPLE OVER THERE SOMEPLACE
AMERICA GETS ALL PUSSY ABOUT OPENING ITS MAIL
AMERICA TELLS THE FBI, "STOP IT, YOU�RE SCARING ME!"
AMERICA STARTS WHINING, "ISN�T THE WAR OVER YET??"
AMERICA JUST WANTS TO GO BACK TO IGNORING THE REST OF THE WORLD AGAIN--IS THAT SO WRONG?
This episode of "History in CNN Bumpers" has been brought to you by MigCorp. MigCorp--"Where the customer does what he�s told." (Not available in Canada.)
***
So last week there was an earthquake in New York which measured a whopping 2.6 on the Richter scale. That�s nothing, trust me--that�s not even an air fart, seismologically speaking--and yet CNN managed to take some time off from AMERICA�S NEW WAR: THE PHANTOM MENACE to splash the news all over the place as if an asteroid the size of Texas had just hit the earth. Then last night there was a 5.1 shaker out in the desert--not huge, but big enough to wake me up 60 miles away--and I can�t find a damn thing about it on CNN, MSN, UPN or N-ywhere else. Manhattanocentric much?
Though to be even-handed, apparently police departments from here to Santa Barbara were inundated with phone calls last night from people thinking a terrorist attack had just happened. Uh-huh. And just how long have you lived in California?
***
I love my parents--in a healthy, non-melodramatic, non-dysfunctional way that is the envy of all my friends--but they�ve got me worried lately. During my visit to L.A. this past weekend I got my first look at their new obsession. Their last expensive hobby was dog shows, and they went through obsessive phases with that one twice--once when I was a kid, and then again just a few years ago. They bred dogs, drew meticulously convoluted flowcharts depicting the family lineage of their dogs, paid wads of cash on special food for their dogs, shelled out even more moolah on groomers, trainers and handlers for their dogs, spent countless Sundays in city parks all over the country hanging out with other Dog People and their dogs and trotting them (the dogs, not the people) around a ring, and filling up one wall after another in their house with ribbons, trophies, plaques, and other prizes brought home from such events.
Ever seen Best in Show? That movie barely scratched the surface.
Fortunately my folks were, and are, well-grounded enough to recognize when the whole scene began to get too freaky, and they retreated before getting sucked in too far. Even if they did go back to the edge of the void a second time.
So what�s their obsession now? Doll houses.
On their vacation last summer they saw some exhibit of antique dollhouses at a museum in Chicago, and from that point on they were obsessed. Not with collecting them--with building them. Now they spend every evening painting little strips of wood and assembling teeny-weeny pieces of furniture from kits they bought at the miniature furniture store, something I never even knew existed until now. Last week they spent over a hundred bucks there.
Now granted, that�s less than they used to spend on dog food in an average week, and at least 1:12-scale Louis XIV chests of drawers don�t bark incessantly at night or shit on the carpet. And I can�t fault my parents for having fun doing something together that they enjoy. It beats watching each other�s hair turn gray.
My main problem with it is that they�ve taken over my old bedroom to use as their Dollhouse Construction HQ--so every time I come to visit I have to suppress the urge to stomp around the room shouting, "I�m the god! I�M THE GOD!!!!"
***
So Halloween is tonight and I�m going to the Casbah�s big bash dressed as an Oompa-Loompa. But not just any Oompa-Loompa--an Oompa-Loompa who grew tired of being exploited at the Wonka factory, moved to the big city and discovered Punk Rock but still can�t help handing out candy everywhere he goes. It�s higher-concept than last year�s Timmy costume but I know at least a few people who�ll get the joke immediately. Hope I get some pictures.
Halloween tends to bring out the bad-taste connoisseur in me. Unhappily, it doesn�t also give me the courage to bring my most tasteless visions to fruition. Although I suppose that�s a good thing in these paranoid times; this year, wearing an Anthrax T-shirt and sprinking myself with talcum powder is likely to get me arrested.
Still, I hope someone out there has the low-hangers to do it. Or maybe a couple will be at this party dressed as Osama Bin Laden and Bert. That would rock.
***
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