Her Ladyship and I were watching baseball’s All-Star Game earlier this week, and I noticed a new feature of the game. Not only has sports media taken over the game – I guess because they’re paying for most of it, but presumably the networks feel that their overexposure sells airtime maybe they’re right. Anyway, the latest hairbrained scheme, in addition to providing commentators, color commentators, special experts and former players, is to start putting microphones on the players while the game is going on. I know, right? Do we need this?
It started a few years ago, when football players and coaches wore mics so we could hear the calls being made. (Wouldn’t this be a bonanza for the opposing team?) Maybe I’m missing something here, but when baseball pitchers and catchers put their gloves over their mouths so lipreaders won’t know what they’re saying, but quarterbacks are broadcasting to the world seems to me a bit of a contradiction. Anyway, so we were listening in on football for a while now, but baseball’s taken it to the next level. The broadcast team and the players on the field were actually chatting brightly about what was happening down there. Again, maybe I’m missing something, but isn’t this the sports version of distracted driving? Were I a coach or a manager, would I want my team’s second baseman carrying on a conversation with the booth while the game is in progress? Here’s a conversation I don’t what to hear:
“You’re getting awfully close to the wall out there. What are your feelings about that?” Crash, string of profanity, groans of pain. As the crew is loading the outfielder onto a stretcher, “So, what hurts the most? Any bleeding we should train the cameras on? Can you see me in the booth – how many fingers am I holding up? Don’t hold up that finger – we’re on national television. Do you think that missed catch will affect your free agency next year by a couple of million?” We switch you now to the dugout, where the manager will tell us how long Bill will be on the DL, from his casual observations and mindless speculation.”
Talking to athletes on camera has become what the phrase, “breaking news” is to news anchors. Remember when that phrase only came across the screen when something important was happening? Richard Nixon was resigning, a hurricane was making landfall on the Gulf coast, Donald Trump was tweeting something stupid or offensive – ok, that last one is a poor example because it wasn’t infrequent. But usually, as “breaking news” was flashing across the television, it was accompanied by the announcement, “we interrupt this broadcast . . . . .” And it didn’t cover something like, “A car ran off the road on route 495 by the Lowell Connector.” Or “A bear was sighted in Arlington. Tranquilizer guns are being aimed as we speak.”
Getting back to the world of stupidity, let’s have a cheer for that macaroni and cheese commercial. Love that one, when mother says that “we’re not leaving the table until . ..” followed by that delightful young lady that responds, “Then we’ll be here all night.” Here’s a child that demands a time-out rather than a mac and cheese reward, with the voice-over, “It’s a win-win!” Only for the child’s inappropriate assertiveness and “giving in” as a parenting style. One of the other commercials around which I’ll never wrap my head is the insurance ad proclaiming “Wet Teddy Bears.” Another instance where I’d like a few minutes with the ad person that came up with that one, just to explain how he or she came up with the concept, and why it shouldn’t have been deep-sixed early on – certainly before it ever reached production. Yet another example of advertisers being overpaid, in comparison to, say, first responders, nurses, firefighters, school teachers, roofing installers, and paving crews.
Several months ago, the Princess was returning to our house from dinner out with her friend. She was pulled over by the local constabulary, and the first question he asked, and rather innocuously, was “Do you know why I stopped you?” It turned out that one of the rear license plate lights (not even a tail light) was out. I know. Does one ever check those before leaving the house after dark? Does one ever do a complete safety check, other than when a warning light comes on. That’s what state inspections are for. In the event that a driver is weaving back and forth across the road, narrowly missing telephone poles, or someone is driving at 65 in a 30mph zone in an unregistered car that’s 20 years old and the fenders are flapping in the breeze, creating a wind tunnel, then “Do you know why I stopped you?” is a completely appropriate conversation starter. In the above situation, a simple, “I stopped you because you have a light out” would have been the way to go.
In the interests of providing the essential public service for which I’m known far and wide, I’ll include here a list of the acts of stupidity that could get one selected to the Hall of Fame. We don’t, of course, actually have one because, quite honestly, we’d need a separate planet to house the trophies and plaques.
#1. The people taking infants and toddlers to professional sporting events. What is with these people? Don’t they know that an evening at Fenway Park is neither bonding or quality family time for a newborn? Those of us seeing them cradling an infant in one hand and a beer in the other aren’t warmed by the picture. Walters Law #16 – If you can’t afford a babysitter, you can’t afford the event.
#2. Those people that park in a handicapped parking space when they’re not. Public shaming is too good for these people. So too, the ones that don’t want their vehicles damaged, so they park across two spaces, either in the middle or diagonally. If your car or truck is that valuable, leave it in the garage, and only take it for a ride on Sunday afternoons, like the rest of the senior population.
#3. Where we live is a condo complex surrounded by open land. We have in residence several flocks of wild turkeys, and one of our residents called both the condo management and the animal control officers, demanding that “something be done about them.” A smile came to my face as I envisioned these turkeys, feet and wings in handcuffs, being led away to the local lock-up.
#4. Sexual predators and pedophiles setting up meetings with their potential victims online, only to find that they’ve been communicating with the police. Really, how stupid are they? We read about them weekly in the newspapers, and they always look a bit stunned and perplexed by what’s happened to them.
#5. Those that go out jogging on a 110 degree day. They usually have been declared in perfect health shortly before their collapse. If they really need exercise that badly, join a gym or buy a Peloton. In this same category are those that venture out for a vigorous hike in the wilderness only to be mauled by a mountain lion or a bear. They forgot the pepper spray and taser, but they did have one or two Evian bottles in case they need to hydrate.
#6. One of the always fun Trump brothers – I forget which, on a big game hunt in Mongolia – shot an animal on the endangered species list. And we, the lucky taxpayers, got to fund his security detail.
#7. In a Dear Abby letter this week, a lady wrote that she’s very worried about her son and his family. The young family is attempting to rent a house for their growing brood. One child and another on the way. They also have six cats and a python. Maybe I’m going to the dark side, but I have this macabre image of a snake with the outline of small child about halfway down its body.
Finally, in the category of true Profiles in Stupidity, a shout-out to those refusing to be vaccinated or wear a mask, or even stay home in a major pandemic. These, surprisingly, are also out in public a great deal, attending large gatherings, eating regularly in restaurants and going to nightclubs. They’re the same folks that refuse any types of preventive medicines, don’t have regular check-ups, don’t have medical insurance because it’s a violation of their rights, and will ultimately become disease super-spreaders.
To all of my faithful, highly intelligent readers, be safe and well this summer.
I'm Thinking...No! 