* Thanks, Kim. I hadn’t thought of that.
* Today was another uphill battle. We’re running on the fumes of old stories. And then we were thwarted by technical issues. A computer we needed to operate for a certain story locked us out and one of our writers was unable to make graphics due to a technical glitch. It’s been a while since I had a smooth newscast build.
* Another thing that caused me to trip up today was the 15-minute argument Zoraida and I got into involving Crocs. Sales of the hideous shoe are falling and the company’s CEO blames a late start to spring and “tough economic times.” I blame the fact that the fad has passed and people have woken up to the fact that they look like Mickey Mouse’s slower, dumber twin when they wear them. I defy you to show me a picture of anyone looking cool in Crocs. They’re the footwear equivalent of M.C. Hammer pants.
Never before have we had a longstanding fashion statement that screams, “I’m an old lady who just got done gardening. My azaleas look fantastic this year! Now pass the Centrum and let’s watch an old episode of ‘Ma & Pa Kettle’ while eating Werther’s Originals.”
Wearing Crocs is tantamount to wearing a sandwich board that says, “Please lock me into a subprime mortgage” or, “The Bears QBs look GREAT this year” or, “Sell me your old Zubaz pants so I can add them to my rainbow Mork suspenders and complete this ridiculous look.”
In my script about Crocs’ slumping sales, I argued that people have stopped buying them because they are ugly and make you look like a clown. Zoraida was hesitant to read this because her four-year-old daughter owns two pair.
But when I was four, my favorite car was the Pontiac Fiero GT, a vehicle predominantly known for bursting into flame. Clearly four-year-olds know nothing. They must be excused for wearing stupid shoes or fairy wings or Underoos and they must never, ever be consulted on vehicular purchases.
Z also said most of her neighbors roam around in Crocs, and she was afraid of alienating them. I argue that you should want to alienate people with ridiculous taste. If you befriend them, they might buy you a revolting Christmas present someday. And really, how many rubber testicles do you need for your car bumper? (I would argue zero, which is the same number of friends I have who wear Crocs in public.)
* Looking to get drunk without all the hassle of swallowing? Enjoy liquor inhalers. (Sorry, Kentucky. Party’s over.)
* Last night I watched the MTV show “The Paper.” It’s reality show about a Florida high school newspaper staff. Ah, memories. When I wrote for my high school paper, I used to sit back and make up articles that required little-to-no reporting. Kinda like what I do now. Except now I get paid to sit around and type this stuff. Dream big, kids!
* This morning I looked up at the TV to see my network running a show called “Poker After Dark.” It featured Gabe Kaplan in a cowboy hat trash-talking some other guy across a poker table. Raise your hand if you thought Mr. Kotter was dead. Everybody? That’s what I thought.
* We’ve gotten nearly three trillion e-mails asking where Dick Johnson went. Dick is now reporting and Rob Elgas is in the morning anchor chair. For those of you wondering who’s going where and why, Robert Feder covers all the local TV moves almost daily in the Sun-Times.
Staff shakeups are a frequent occupational hazard in the news business. The only way to get tenure is to deliver the ratings the bosses want. My show gets beaten nearly every morning by “Andy Griffith” reruns, so I probably have a month left before I’m back in Kalamazoo, Michigan, leading my newscasts with the daily Walk to Eradicate Disease X. (Rent, don’t buy, young journalists.)
* On Friday, Arch Nemesis Producer Jim informed us he’s engaged to be married. Is this true or part of his psychological war to break me down further? I congratulated him, of course. I’ll play along with his little game… for now.
* Germany is now exporting its unemployed citizens. Gee, Germany, what is it with you shipping people off to other countries? That never works out for you guys.
* For those of you looking to help the poor Germans, start by renting one.
* Station management still hasn’t given in to our demands, but the Pizza or Revolution crusade carries on. (Come on, guys. You never treat the morning crew…)