2006mar23. I am in the grips of The Ill. Pancakes + Napoleon (the dessert) + sun + crowds – water = The Ill. My travelling partner also got The Ill. We have: The Ill. Before The Ill, I was listening to the radio and it was some “news” about a family who took their SUV into some remote snowy area. The vehicle became lodged in fluffy white stuff or died or rolled over. Then the rescue operation commenced. Then the media coverage of the rescue operation commenced. And the family got to watch the coverage of the rescue operation on their in-vehicle TV. I couldn’t stop laughing, but in a confused, poignant way. My laughing was poignant. It’s sort of like those people on JetBlue watching coverage of their plane’s twisted landing gear as they were about to “touch down.” Would you feel happy or sad seeing rescuers on the television talking about finding you? “Okay, that’s good, just try harder ... starting ... now.”
“The rescuers have given up finding the Anderson family.
We now return you to ‘American Idol.’”
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!”
”Dad, are you ‘NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO’ing the aborted rescue effort, or ‘American
Idol’?”
“I’m not really sure. I sort of have mixed feelings,
here. Give me a few minutes. It will filter out.”
“You got
it. I’m going to be back here gnawing on my leg.”
“That’s the
Anderson can-do spirit, son. ACDS, for short.”
The Andersons sort of creep me out because really, I wouldn’t get excited about my son eating his own leg for sustenance.