One Inch of Snow, Richmond Paralyzed

January 27, 2015

By Cole

It’s noon and I’m sitting on my cozy kitty perch watching snowflakes meander down, even though our local weather gurus said the snowfall would end by 9-10 a.m., tops.

Their inaccuracy aside, I’m kind of embarrassed to be a Southern domestic shorthair today.

Richmond must have really, really, REALLY wanted to be part of the “big snow event” that just whumped the Northeast. When we woke up this morning, local meteorologists on the 3 major networks (ABC, CBS, NBC) refused to cede to the national morning shows, which were, presumably, discussing actual blizzard conditions north of here.

Instead, our guys stood steadfastly in front of maps showing puny and fast-dwindling snowstorms across the area, trying to whip us all into a frenzy that there was something life-threatening afoot.

They had reporters in thick parkas and knit caps posted all over town with little rulers, futilely trying to find somewhere to measure an inch of snow.

Even the school districts embraced the madness and canceled school at the last minute so the little darlings could stay curled up with their toasty Xboxes, rather than battle “treacherous conditions” in some feckless pursuit of an education.

Richmond “International” Airport canceled some flights. Morning commuters were urged to stay off the roads unless they absolutely had to go out, so many vacation days were probably called in for nothing.

I say “nothing” because, by 11 a.m., our residential backstreet had no trace of snow. Karen didn’t shovel because the driveway was already clean, too.

People, get a grip. We got less than an inch. OK, maybe an inch in some spots. But a blizzard?

Adele calls this a classic “head up our own ass” moment. There’s nothing more embarrassing than watching fellow Southerners throw a hissy fit over a mere dusting, while those who are seriously butt-deep in snow aren’t whining.

Advertisements

Afterthoughts on “The Taste” Season 3

January 26, 2015

By Karen

Yes, I swore off Anthony Bourdain’s cooking competition, The Taste, after Season 2, but it pulled me back in. But I’m no Bourdainiac like Vanessa, that creepy fan girl on his team who cooked only to please her Tony.

Season 3 wrapped up last week, and I saw it all. Bourdain was a contender, but his last team member, Eric, got knocked out just before the grand finale, leaving it to Ludo and Marcus.

The premise is still ridiculous, but ABC’s pumping the hyperbole, calling Bourdain a “culinary legend” and the show an “international juggernaut.”

Bourdain’s too young to be legendary, but I’ll give him juggernaut. The Taste format is being reproduced worldwide. I hope Tony and Nigella get a nice slice of all that franchising.

What I liked…

  • Bourdain as host. He comes across as reasonable, likable, caring, the perfect foil for tantrum-throwing, trashcan-kicking Ludo.
  • The person who does Tony’s hair deserves an Emmy for confiscating his hair gel and ending the wet, mangy dog look.
  • Marcus Samuelsson. What’s not to like? He’s a cordial, articulate guy with an interesting background who knows his stuff.
  • Gabe as winner. He had the skills and the most favorite spoons. It was a nice touch that the judges allegedly didn’t know the winner themselves until they pushed the last button for their favorite.
  • They let us get to know the cooks better, although I felt like I knew Jen, Ludo’s token home cook, too well. At times I wanted to slap her even more than he did.

What left me wondering…

  • Where’s Bourdain’s wedding ring? He never wore it once, and it’s been missing elsewhere I’ve seen him. I hope it’s just a jiu jitsu thing, now that he’s in training.
  • Why doesn’t Nigella look in a mirror and kill the person who dresses her? In one early episode, her neckline was so low, her bra hung out. By mid-season when she was plumping up, she wore big horizontal stripes. And for the finale, they dressed her in full-on Morticia Addams. Nigella’s got a beautiful face, but she’s voluptuous all over and looks like haggis on legs poured into tight dresses she can hardly walk or sit in.
  • Why is every episode 2 hours long, even after they’re down to a few cooks? Didn’t ABC learn anything from over-milking Dancing with the Stars?

What I still don’t like…

  • Ludo, the once and future douche. He was more dickish than ever.
  • Home cooks pitted against professionals. Once again, Nigella was rendered moot almost immediately because her team of home cooks got creamed. No home cook has ever won.
  • A finale that dragged on for three rounds. Two would have been plenty.

So, I ended this season OK with The Taste, and I’d watch Season 4, although I don’t think it’s renewed yet. But I’ve got a new favorite: Master Chef Junior.

Stay tuned…


ENOUGH About the Footballs Already!

January 23, 2015

By Adele

Here we go again with another big “scandal” in football. The New England Patriots won a game playing with soft balls. Oh, the horror, the stain on humanity!

It was the top story last night on NBC’s Nightly News with Brian Williams. It was the top story this morning on the Today Show and CBS This Morning.

If the United States’ shameful absence from the recent mass demonstration in Paris wasn’t a clear enough signal to the world how far up our own asses our heads are these days, then anyone tuning in to what’s passing for “news” here right now would see it.

While Americans agonize over whether beloved Patriots quarterback Tom Brady knew his balls were soft, here’s what else we’re largely ignoring…

  • Netanhayu’s in cahoots with Boehner to make Obama seem out of the loop on foreign relations (as if Obama needs any help)
  • Islamic terrorists are about to behead 2 Japanese hostages
  • Measles are making a comeback because we allow idiot parents to not get their kids vaccinated

Yeah, yeah, I know. “Deflategate,” “Air of Deception,” or whatever cutesy name you want to call it, has big implications for the upcoming — oh, gasp, swoon! — SUPERBOWL!!!

And once again I’m going to remind you that football is a GAME, people. It’s not real. Never has been. Anyone who makes a living off football is one lucky SOB and a leech whose “job” is sucking bucks out of fools willing to pour money into it (i.e., fans).

There’s NOTHING about football that has any business dominating the news — ever.

Fine, anyone who must waste time on sports nonsense, go ahead and hash out with your ilk your burning “issues” on the sports pages of newspapers or in online forums. Discuss it all you want on ESPN. But the mainstream media needs to STOP rubbing the rest of our noses in this crap.

Any country that inflates men in tight little pants who prance around a field carrying soft balls into a national crisis is a country that’s going downhill fast.


%d bloggers like this: