Cooking's not my thing. Never has been. Probably never will be. It's not that I mind it, it's that I'm not very good at it. The Little Cuter says that the thought is the father of the deed and that it's all in my attitude. TBG says I ought to slow down and pay attention and take my time -- not behaviors usually considered when those I love think about me.
In order to stay interested, I need music on the radio and a glass of something in my hand. Preferably a refillable something. I can watch the sunset out the window and dance around the kitchen and pretend that I'm having fun. I don't let myself reflect on the fact that I'd rather be sitting on the patio furniture, reading the WSJ's Weekend Journal, which is winking provocatively at me from the newspaper basket. I need distractions. When 92.9 goes to a commercial, I turn to the big tv where TBG is watching the national news.
It's frightening. There's a brief report on a tremendous earthquake in Haiti, a snippet on the financial 9/11 commission which begins tomorrow, and then they hit the real story: Leno and Conan. Personal interviews, clips from the shows, commentators with furrowed brows prognosticating.... c'mon people...... if anyone cared about Jay Leno they'd be watching him whenever he showed up on the screen.
There was more in depth analysis of this non-story than there was of the Financial Crisis Inquiry Commission's mission. The reporter did make me smile, though, when he described the members of the Commission as people who would actually be able to understand the answers they were given. Yes, as the inter-web is screeching, the Commission members have ties to Wall Street. Who else in the world is going to understand what is being discussed? Joe the Plumber? Sarah Palin? The reporter was making the obvious point - no sense in having this Commission if the panel can't understand what's being said.
I just don't like it being an unusual occurrence is all. I think it's kind of brave of NBC to say it out loud.
Went outside to check on the gas grill (I do so love living here ... winter is over, if the warming of the afternoon breeze is any indication.... and it is....) and came back inside to Mark McGwire being insincere. It's not an apology if you don't own up to the underlying offense. Saying you're sorry but you really truly weren't doing anything wrong because you were just trying to be healthy isn't saying you're sorry. It's hoping that people won't read beyond the headlines announcing that you'd admitted steroid use. It's assuming that everyone else buys into your delusion (a great word I heard several times this afternoon). Saying that you called the Maris family to apologize and then saying that the steroids had nothing to do with your 70 home run season is bordering on sociopathy. There's an obvious disconnect between what he wants (Hall of Fame, re-integration into the baseball family, redemption), what needs to happen (telling the truth) and what he is capable of doing.
Honestly, does anyone believe this?
Finally, there's the dead Iranian physicist. The camera had a great time with body bags and ambulances and then the reporter began to speculate. For those of us who were unable to follow his words, there they were, up on the screen in multi-colored squares. His idea was that perhaps the United States killed him, or perhaps Israel killed him, or perhaps Iran killed him for collaborating with the U.S. or perhaps Iran killed him because he sold information to Israel. Huh?
I was really glad to go out and watch the chicken cook.