Wednesday, June 21, 2006

Nighttime Musings

Lots of sirens in our neighborhood lately. Too many sirens. Earlier this week, I looked out the front window at about 10 pm to see an aid car tearing down the hill that runs by our house. The next morning, the Jawa and I left for Zoo Camp, only to find chaos at the main intersection of our little "downtown." A police car was parked halfway out into the intersection. A bunch of people milled around while the cops talked to some young kid. "Look Dad, it's the fuzz," said the Jawa, solemnly. Two fire engines broke up the next night, barreling down the hill while I was watching "Sportscenter."

And a few weeks ago, we left for the taqueria only to notice a helicopter hovering over our street. It seemed to be hovering directly over our house. We stopped and watched it, as I wondered what illegal activity we had participated in without knowing. "It's not a police helicopter," said Sandra Bullock. It was from a local TV station, which was different from the time about a month ago, when the Jawa and I arrived home after school to find a police helicopter hovering over the hills behind our house.

After dinner, we came home and switched on the TV. As if in a movie, our explanation immediately appeared. Speaking live from a park four blocks away, the reporter told us that three people had been shot at around 4:30 in that afternoon, two adults and one 11-year-old. Nobody knew the motive.

Life in the almost-city. I'm not complaining, but too many sirens lately.

Sitting up tonight, switching back and forth between ESPN Wednesday Night Baseball (Mariners 8 Dodgers 5) and various music channels, I noticed that country music singers seem much happier than the people on MTV, BET or even VH-1 Classic. Their videos often resemble picnics or barbecues, with lots of happy people dancing around in shorts.

I was up alone because the Jawa had insisted that S. Bullock go to bed at 9, his bedtime. She's been mostly gone this week, due to work commitments, so he has been given a full dose of me. This means poor meals and televised sports, with some Uno thrown in. So tonight, as he often does when she's been gone, he asked that , rather than staying up with me, she go to bed at 9 so they could lie in our bed and read. It's very cute, but he'd better enjoy it now. I remind him (more and more often with each passing year) that as he gets bigger, I get older. Soon I will not be able to easily hoist the sleeping Jawa up from our bed and carry him into his own. That will be a sad day, full of overwhelming reminders of my own mortality, indeed.

What in the world is wrong with Maury Povich? Several years ago...okay, 25...our local CBS affiliate ran a series of teaser commercials containing the phrase "Who is Maury Povich?" My mother, who, despite her massive determination and drive, often possesses an impish sense of humor, knew who Maury Povich was. Each time the commercial ran, she announced loudly, to whomever else was in the room, "I KNOW WHO MAURY POVICH IS! HE'S MY COUSIN JANIS' HUSBAND'S COUSIN!" Which made him our cousin, or at least that's what I told people.

Mom went so far as to call KCBS and tell them, "I know who Maury Povich is!" only to be met, I am sure, with confused silence. They asked. She answered.

Besides being Don Povich's cousin, Maury was then a news anchor. He came to Los Angeles, lasted awhile, and then disappeared. The Povichs were a journalism family, and included Hall of Fame sportswriter Shirley Povich of the Washington Post, plus my (actual) cousin Elaine, who has worked at many newspapers and the AP.

Maury married Connie Chung, making her every bit our fake cousin as Maury. My mother met them at some cousin's wedding, where my grandmother, who was not known for enthusiastic outbursts, enthusiastically introduced them to everyone.

Since then, I'm afraid, Maury has lost his mind. I see him when I'm at the gym, climbing endless steps on the Precor thing. The hanging TVs often play his show. Maury, seriously. You were once an anchorman. Granted, it was local news, but it was L.A., at least. Now you spend your time sitting around in a v-neck sweater and a white t-shirt, reading the results of paternity tests while overweight teenage girls cry under an assault of profanity from the faux gang sign-flashing losers who told them all along that the baby wasn't theirs.

You get accused of sexual harrasment, Maury. You act all soothing when two sisters prepare themselves to tell their mom that they've been prostituting themselves and darn it, they feel okay about it. You're feeding the beast, Maury. You've sold yourself out. Unlke Jerry Springer, you once had aspirations of respectibility. You married Connie Chung, for crying out loud, the original prototype for the cheery, Asian-American female TV journalist. That's j-o-u-r-n-a-l-i-s-t., Maury. You know, like you used to be.

Thank God my grandmother didn't live to see this.

14 Comments:

Blogger Bud and/or Marsi said...

there were many nights 5 or 6 years ago when i came home from work at 10pm or so and found 6 - 10 police cars in front of my house. that is a horrible feeling turnng the corner and seeing that when you know your wife and newborn baby are home alone. thankfully (for us, anyway) they were always at the house across the street. bad things used to happen there, not so much anymore. one year they took the woman who lives there to jail for the year and let the scottsdale police use it as a training "facility". i would come home and the cops would be out with guns and flashlights drawn screaming "scottsdale police, come out with your hands up!" - when the house was vacant. man i'm glad that is over.

oh yeah - i'll take your maury povich cousin relation and raise you one smothers brother relation.

10:59 PM  
Anonymous flush puppy said...

Well, we have no famous relations that I know of, but certain famous Seattle rockers are known to frequent the Roanoke. And our crazy-in-a-Jeffrey-Dahmer-way neighbor set his half of the duplex on fire with his electric blanket at our last BBQ. Couldn't get out his front door, since - wait for it- he had SCREWED IT SHUT. Lucky for him, he has a back door. Lucky for us, some hot firemen had to come put it out.

8:52 AM  
Anonymous kt said...

I agree with you, lefty- maury's show is an embarassment. If it makes you feel any better, at least he doesn't draw maps in the sand like Geraldo.
And, in regards to flush puppy's comment: I miss the Roanoke (only went there a handful times due to the amount of time I was over 21 and living there) and g. lake!! Could do without the crazy, electric blanket weilding, front door nailing neighbor, though.

5:19 PM  
Anonymous Noodle's Mom said...

As you know, when I first went into exile I kept track of all the murders, robberies, carjackings, etc, that occurred in the nearest town (thankfully, at least in this respect, about 40 miles away). The task became so time consuming I had to quit. If there is one good thing about where I live its that at least in the 1950's (which is the decade I live in) it was safe to let your kids roam around, knowing they were safe and if you or your kids a problem, a neighbor or friend would always be there to help. A very comforting thought, especially when the Rocket Scientist may be headed overseas in the fall. And I have to agree with you about faux-cousin Maury. I don't claim him anymore either.

6:31 PM  
Anonymous zelda said...

this post has two interesting themes, to which all previous commenters have responded in their remarks: 1) local crime, 2) famous relatives.

my contributions will come in the form of my usual brain-teasing submissions to the game 'two truths and a lie,' modified to fit the format/content of this post:

1. i once spent new year's eve in jail with my father, the university professor.

2. i have been on the jerry springer show.

3. i was distracted throughout most of this post by the fact that i have no idea what an "aid car" is. some kind of so cal slang, yo? help me out, here.

10:39 PM  
Anonymous flush puppy said...

KT!! If you're in town on the 2nd, S.B. and I will be playing beer pong on the deck!

9:38 AM  
Blogger Lefty said...

my goodness, zelda, what an intriguing character you are! How were we to know?

11:52 AM  
Blogger Lefty said...

oh, and an "aid car" is the thing paramedics drive around.

11:52 AM  
Anonymous zelda said...

i have a secret life the likes of which no one can imagine. that's the thing about being a teacher...your work it all week long as a fine, upstanding, calm, responsible example and then after hours and on the weekends, well--you've got to get it out of your system and no one can be *that* good all the time, can they?!

9:48 AM  
Anonymous zelda said...

wait, so is "aid car" another word for "ambulance" then? wow, i feel dumb. got it, and i appreciate the clarification. i have now re-read the post with greater focus and appreciate the maury thing much more since i am not distracted by unfamiliar vocabulary.

9:49 AM  
Anonymous Zin said...

I also once came home to police cars, with lights flashing, in front of the house. They were going in and out next door. As per the news that evening, turns out our "mild mannered" neighbor blew away his ex-wife and adult step-daughter in an East Bay courtroom!

Just back from Family Camping in Yosemite and a hillbilly wedding in Texas, where my lovely girl child was a flowergirl. She can now cross that off of her life's to do list.

Fun catching up.

6:17 PM  
Anonymous Zin Gal said...

I also once came home to police cars, with lights flashing, in front of the house. They were going in and out next door. As per the news that evening, turns out our "mild mannered" neighbor blew away his ex-wife and adult step-daughter in an East Bay courtroom!

Just back from Family Camping in Yosemite and a hillbilly wedding in Texas, where my lovely girl child was a flowergirl. She can now cross that off of her life's to do list.

Fun catching up.

6:18 PM  
Anonymous Zin Gal said...

I also once came home to police cars, with lights flashing, in front of the house. They were going in and out next door. As per the news that evening, turns out our "mild mannered" neighbor blew away his ex-wife and adult step-daughter in an East Bay courtroom!

Just back from Family Camping in Yosemite and a hillbilly wedding in Texas, where my lovely girl- child was a flowergirl. She can now cross that off of her life's to do list. She was getting a bit long in the tooth, so it was now or never! You know she is almost 9.

One too many reality shifts right after school ended.

Fun catching up.

6:22 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

[p]Instead of going all the way up the calf, short styles, like the Cove and Classic Mini only reach the ankle or bottom of the calf . The [url=http://www.cheapuggboots4sale.co.uk]cheap ugg boots sale uk
[/url] Ugg Tall Whitley Chocolate 5230 are made of sheepskin and wool high Whitley . Having the right material with you and being equipped with the right training is essential [url=http://www.cheapuggboots4sale.co.uk]cheap ugg boots sale[/url] in this case because you never know who you will run into . It is also simple inside adapting temp in accordance with in the [url=http://www.uggbootsuk4outlet.co.uk]ugg boots uk outlet[/url] garden environment which often means the hip space inside popular days and nights . So I suggest you to go with the ugg boots for kids Ugg Boots For Kids Related Articles - ugg, boots, Email [url=http://www.uggbootsuk4outlet.co.uk]ugg boots uk[/url] this Article to a Friend! Receive Articles like this one direct to your email box!Subscribe for free today! . Without [url=http://www.cheapuggboots4sale.co.uk]ugg boots sale[/url] them, today' s people will never get approach to luxurious comfort and warmth in freezing winter days . any with [url=http://www.cheapuggboots4sale.co.uk]ugg boots sale online[/url] mullet haircuts, ridiculous sideburns to not mention ugly meat pies . For [url=http://www.newcheapuggbootsau.co.uk]ugg boots australia[/url] many individuals, UGG boots provide the perfect insulation and comfort for the winter months.[/p]

5:53 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home