Crimes Against Suspension of Disbelief

Forgive me, Twitter followers, for I have sinned. I have become utterly and completely obsessed with the #hemyneumantrial, and have subjected you to weeks of endless prattling on about it, though the vast majority of you probably didn't give a crap. But now the trial is over, which means that you won't have to hear about it anymore. Unless there's an appeal. Or unless more information comes out. Or unless you keep reading this post, because I'm about to give you...

My Review of "EVERYBODY Has to Stand Up: the #hemyneumantrial" brought to you by Nyquil: the trial time sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, stuffy head, fever, so you can snooze right through relevant testimony before deciding a man's fate medicine!

by Kimberly Welsh, Exaggeratress in Chief

February 2012 saw the beginning of one of the most gripping dramatic web series murder trials in recent memory. Hemy Neuman was being tried for the November 18, 2010 murder of Rusty Sneiderman, a shooting which took place in the parking lot of Dunwoody Day Care just after Rusty had dropped his son off for the day. In the intervening year and a half, the community at large had learned that Neuman was Sneiderman's wife's boss (draw a diagram if you need to), and that he and Mrs. Sneiderman were potentially having an affair. Now that you're caught up on the background, let's look at the trial itself...

Leaving aside necessarily poor production values and disappointingly conservative camera work, the biggest obstacle between this trial and greatness was its inconsistency. Indeed, I believe this will be held up for generations to come as an example of what happens when two conflicting production teams are left to bicker over the same project, though we must give credit where credit is due - Judge Gregory Adams' direction was a valiant attempt at fluidity and effective pacing. District Attorney James and Assistant DA Geary handled Act I ("State's Evidence") and Act III, Scene 1 ("Prosecution's Rebuttal: the Revenge") with dignity and aplomb, giving them the feel of an expertly edited documentary. I attribute this to the fact that, by and large, they took the courageous risk of using real people who were telling the truth to tell their story. The notable exception here is, of course, Andrea Sneiderman (née Greenberg and hereafter referred to as such because it irritates me to use the same name for her and the innocent victim) with her scenery-chewing Bobble-Headed Unsympathetic Confrontational Sarcasm™ approach to her role, but the DA made even this dramatic abomination fit, through a graceful and seamless mise-en-abîme, by which the very fact that she was acting paradoxically added to the realism of the other testimony. Honestly, the only other fault I find with this portion was the ham-handed advertisement for Coldwell Banker on the witness stand - highly incongruous, in an otherwise very serious scene.

But in Act II ("Defense Evidence"), viewers were subjected to a jarring shift in tone, from the world of the sober, truthful documentary to a parade of spinning pyrotechnics and flashing lasers, framing a tale of passion, 12-foot demons in the guise of 80s pop culture icons, domestic violence, globe-trotting, and the sordid story of two people who made the perverse decision to watch "The Goodbye Girl" voluntarily! At times, I wondered if this was indeed the same mini-series murder trial! At best it was confusing, and for most viewers it proved downright disorienting. In addition to the lack of continuity, a remarkably inept casting made this portion all but unwatchable! I must've heard acting teachers say it a hundred times: if you cannot actually make tears come out of your eyes, DO NOT ATTEMPT A FAKE CRY ON STAGE! And if I ever doubted the wisdom in that, there was no shortage of poorly-acted defense witness testimony to drive home its point. Meanwhile, the majority of the witnesses called to testify on behalf of the defense came across as confrontational, indignant, arrogant, and (in some applicable cases) utterly biased and unprofessional. Overall, it was a disappointing mishmash that meandered aimlessly, though I would be remiss if I failed to acknowledge Dr. Marx's brilliant comic turn in Scene Two ("Cross Examination"). Well done, Dr. Marx!

What we saw in Act III was largely more of the same - gritty, believable reality from the Prosecution and an imaginatively written but poorly acted psychological thriller from the Defense. Act IV brought significantly more drama as the action mounted to its climax. The monologue of Attorney Doug Peters was difficult to watch, owing to the frustration of seeing a clearly accomplished performer with great potential so harshly constrained by the gaping holes in the plot he must advance. Thus it was ultimately District Attorney Robert James who stole what was left of the show after Andrea Greenberg's jaw-dropping performance. His speech, and his visual aids, were set to reveal the surprise ending: this was not a psychological thriller or a true-crime reality show, but an honest-to-God murder trial.

A man is dead. And all the belligerent witnesses, fanciful demons, and friendly Coldwell Banker agents in the world can't change that fact. I honestly think most of the people who watched this trial so obsessively (like me) did so because we were so appalled that anyone would expect Neuman's story to be taken seriously - that's what was funny. The death of Rusty Sneiderman wasn't funny. At all.

In his statement at sentencing, Hemy Neuman began by saying that no one had won; "everybody lost". I can certainly see where he was going with that, and there's no doubt he was standing in a room full of sad people, all of whom had lost something. But Rusty had lost more than anyone else, and there was only one thing anyone could still offer him: justice. And his family, with the help of the DA and his team, got that for him. It's a hollow victory, to be sure. But actually, Hemy: Rusty won.

So rest in peace, Rusty. And rest in peace, #hemyneumantrial hashtag. And rest in peace, this horrible, horrible story.

Unless...

You Turn Right at the WHAT Now?

For years, I've driven through Midtown Atlanta for a variety of reasons, and more often than not, I exit the freeway and enter the city via 17th Street. And in the course of these years, I've seen this one landmark at least 200 times. And each time I see it, I think the exact same thing.

It's part of the exterior design of a restaurant, you see. And this restaurant is always busy, it's been there for years, and I just googled it to find that every review site shows it having an average of 4-5 stars. It appears on numerous "Best Of..." lists as well. For these reasons, I am absolutely certain that the food is wonderful, the service is friendly and helpful, and the ambience is unbeatable. I don't know that firsthand, because I've never eaten there. I doubt I ever will. This is partly due to my being a massive cheapskate, partly due to my not especially loving Thai food, but mostly due to this landmark they've erected. Actually, I may be the only person in the world who would call it a "landmark", but it's so unique! So unignorable! So far in the forefront of my mind! Because people are always eating there, and it is always busy and I don't know how that can be, because

COME ON, MAN! HOW IS THAT NOT A GIANT BRONZE GORILLA TURD?

Image shamelessly yoinked from the in-depth (and very complimentary) review at Atlanta Restaurant Reviews

Wii're Not Gonna Take It.

Fun fact about me: I like to ask for awesome things for my birthday, receive them, then tell myself I'm not allowed to open them until I do some God-forsaken chore. As a result, I don't start raving about birthday gifts til months after the fact.  Personal record: the Neato XV-11 I received in early January and finally unboxed IN JULY. (The chore was cleaning my room. I still hadn't done it, but more than 7 months just seemed ridiculous.) (Also: the Neato XV-11 is highly recommended.) Anyway! This year I asked for a Wii! And I got it! In January!

Naturally, I did not open the box until 2 days ago (when I finally got rid of the chest of drawers which had substituted for an entertainment center for the past five years).

The Wii is part of my Master Plan for Living Room Domination, which is exactly what it sounds like: my personal mission to reclaim my living room from all the crap and junk mail that buries me over and over again. Sometimes I look back at the pictures I took of this place while I was still trying to decide whether to make an offer, and I sigh wistfully at all the space, the shiny floors, the unobstructed windows... It is my dream that someday I might show those pictures to someone else, tell them "that's my condo", and have them actually believe me. So in anticipation of opening the Wii, I culled my electronics collection. I donated my DVD player and my VHS player (yes I still had one, though I hadn't touched it in 10 years), and gifted my Xbox 360 to my brother. My reasoning was as follows:
1. There is not a single Xbox game I have any interest in playing. I was just using the Xbox for Netflix, Hulu+ and DVDs. But...
2. I don't need the Xbox for DVDs, because I have a PS2. And obviously I won't be getting rid of the PS2. I lived 19 long, boring, tedious, joy-deprived years without Crash Bandicoot. I don't intend to lose him again now.
3. The Wii could do Netflix and Hulu+ and do it wirelessly ("Xbox 360: because everybody loves having ethernet cords running all over the damn place"), and there are quite a few Wii games I quite like. And it can play some old Nintendo games from my childhood! And the menu screens play soothing elevator music, which I also quite like! And if - God forbid - my PS2 should someday go on to a better place, the Wii could be THE home base for internet-based TV, games, and DVDs!

EXCEPT OH WAIT A MINUTE WHAT?

The Wii doesn't play DVDs. I'm sure I'm the last person on the face of the Earth to learn this, but give me a break - it was hard to justify buying one when I still had an Xbox and a PS2, so I'm just now getting around to it. When my beloved Flight of the Conchords Season 1 Disc 1 failed to play after the 3rd try, I sat down at my laptop and, chiding myself for asking such a stupid question, typed "Does Wii play DVDs?" Imagine my astonishment! My consternation! My disappointment! My RAGE! ...when I learned that no, it does not. I did some additional looking around and came across a number of articles claiming that the Nintendo corporation essentially felt that a DVD drive on the Wii would be overkill because "there are already so many other components that play DVDs", citing not only other game consoles and dedicated media players, but laptops, desktops, and...oh wait those are all the things that play DVDs. This is the Dumbest Corporate Decision since Suntory handed Kim Kardashian a Midori bottle and took her picture* (YES I AM STILL MAD ABOUT THAT), and I will give you both reasons why:
1. "We aren't gonna do this because other people already did it" is just bad business. That's like Pepsi saying "Nah, let's not introduce a crappier version of every single product Coca-Cola makes." It's unheard of! And I bet people will read this and say, "Um, I believe it's COKE that copies PEPSI, stupid Atlantan Coke freak." And I will say to them, "Oh GO DRINK SOME PEPSI TOILET WATER!" And they will threateningly brandish a Mountain Dew pop top at me and yell, "DON'T MAKE ME CUT YOU!" And I'll grab a frozen Coke and be all, "You try it and I'll give you a brain freeze you'll NEVER forget!" And then they'll be like, "Did you even see Pepsi's Superbowl commercial? Do you have any idea who you're dealing with?" And then Elton John and Flavor Flav will come running up, and the three of them will start coming at me like a West Side Story dance sequence to kick my ass, but then I'll snap my fingers and a bunch of bloodthirsty polar bears will rush them and when all the screaming dies down, the polar bears and I will sit down with a Coke and they'll put their paws on my shoulder and we'll watch the Northern Lights, BITCH!

What was I talking about? Oh right: the Wii. My point is that businesses are supposed to try for customer loyalty and a cornered market. The [theoretical] ideal Wii consumer is a person who says, "I'm buying a Wii, and I'm not buying any other console or media player, because the Wii can do everything I need!" Then you've got the revenue from the initial purchase and you have that customer cornered for any number of services you can dream up to roll out in the future! Instead, they said, "We won't make our product do all the things it could do, because people can buy someone else's product for that." Thanks man! That's a great idea! I'll just get an Xb...OH WAIT I NO LONGER HAVE ANY USE FOR THE WII WHATSOEVER. Business FAIL.

I guess my other point, to a lesser extent, was that we're supposed to have multiple products that do similar things. The fact that you can say "Mello Yello is Coke's version of Mountain Dew" or "Sierra Mist is Pepsi's version of Sprite" or "Aquafina is Coke's version of Dasani and by the way THEY ARE BOTH 'WATER'" is not "proof of a redundancy in the market". Rather, it is the purest form of American capitalism, tapping into our cultural DNA's tendency toward irrational "My Team is Better Than Your Team and...What Did You Say I WILL KICK YOUR ASS!" behavior and using it to screw all of us out of our money. Just like politics!

2. The Nintendo people are absolutely right - we have a lot of products in our homes that play DVDs. Until 2 days ago, I had a DVD player, an Xbox, a PS2, and 2 laptops, and all of those things could play DVDs. I guess that's probably why my mindset, here in 2012, is: if I see something that has a DVD-sized slot on it and can be connected to a screen, I assume it can play DVDs. Or at least, I used to make that assumption. But the Wii people took a world where one could reasonably say "Everything already plays DVDs!" and used that logic to create a world where we say instead: "Everything plays DVDs...except the Wii." Way to go, guys! Way. To. Go.

*Seriously, are crappy decisions the new "in" thing for Japanese executives?

This is Why I Never Make New Friends

I have a lot of acquaintances and friends, but I need more really good friends, like D and J. But making friends isn't easy once you're out of school and working at a place where you don't really like anyone. I should know. I've tried a lot of things over the years and I've learned the harsh lesson that generally, when you go out to some sort of "meet new people" gathering, you find that 1/3 of the people there want to sell you something, 1/3 of the people there want to get in your pants, and 1/3 of the people there aren't the least bit interested in speaking to you, much less being your friend.

It's far too pricey a road to depression; I could get the same "wish I was dead" feeling by sitting on my couch drinking cheap cider and eating frozen pizza.

Improv is the closest I've ever come to success, and the last thing I tried before improv was a French language thingy. The last meeting I attended was in 2006. When I left, I was in possession of five business cards from people offering their translation services - a fact which baffles me to this very day, as I was only at the function because I already spoke French, and therefore had no need of translation services. Maybe they just felt that their French was that much better than mine, which is an insult and a decidedly unfriendly thing to imply. With my purse filled to the brim with unsolicited cards, I sought out my friend and asked if she was ready to leave, but...she had met a Frenchman.

God help us all.

This is how I ended up seated beside her on a couch as she flirted endlessly with "Patrique", leaving me open to the unwanted attentions of Whatshisface From Hell. I kid you not, this is how our conversation unfolded (although the original conversation was in French):
HIM: I've met you before.
ME: I think you've mistaken me for someone else; I've never seen you before.
HIM: No no, I've met you before. I gave you my number.
ME: Did you? Because I don't remember...
HIM: WHY DIDN'T YOU EVER CALL ME?
ME: Um, in all seriousness, I really don't recall ever seeing you before in my life. I'm pretty sure you're yelling at the wrong complete stranger.
HIM: I'm playing in a soccer game this Saturday. You should come watch.
ME: Um, OK, well...I'll have to check my schedule.
HIM: I want to take you to dinner sometime.
ME: That's very nice of you, but I'm very busy...
HIM: You can check your calendar and get back to me.
ME: Great!
HIM: ...only this time I will call you. Because you never called me last time.
ME: Again, that wasn't me.
HIM: What's your number?
ME: (Gives him my home number)
HIM: OK. I'll call you and you'll tell me when we're going to dinner.
ME: Right, well just FYI, that's my home number and sometimes I'm not home but if you leave a message.
HIM: What's your cell number?
ME: You don't need it! You have my home number! I get really crappy reception...
HIM: You HAVE a cell phone - I saw you check the time on it a minute ago. WHY WON'T YOU GIVE ME YOUR CELL NUMBER?
ME: (Getting seriously fed up with this crap) Because you don't need my cell number, because you have my home number.
HIM: Are you just trying to avoid me? Is this why you never called the last time?
ME: OH MY GOD I'VE NEVER MET YOU BEFORE IN MY LIFE, BUT SINCE YOU ASK, YES,  I AM TRYING TO AVOID EVER MEETING YOU AGAIN.

That was the end of French Meetup Group.

But as I say, I've been feeling the need to branch out lately, so I thought it might be worth taking another crack at the meetup site. After all, everyone always says that if you find a group of people doing something you enjoy, you'll find that its members are like-minded individuals you can bond with. And anyway, I really am looking for friends - not some kind of speed dating nonsense. Unfortunately, I had a little trouble finding any meetup activities that really strike my fancy...
- Baby Exercise Time
- Mommies Running Group
- Polyamory Club
- Kink Atlanta (note: Just what the hell is "The Midnight Munch?" *Horrified face*)
- Real Estate Trends and Education
- Various "Boot Camps" around town
- Atlanta Fetish Models

Sooooo yeah. I think I pretty much struck out here. Then again, if I tried to identify my interests, they would mostly involve writing, reading, and watching TV - not very social activities in the first place, unfortunately. And in fairness to meetup, it just helped me discover that Atlanta has a skeeball league(!?!). I might have found my tribe after all...

Random Act of Advertising Kindness

If you don't live in Atlanta, you may well be sick of hearing me go on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on about the Wizometer. I'm sorry. I am. But I was born and raised in this town, and over the years I've watched the traffic get exponentially worse, the city get exponentially more dangerous, the local government get more corrupt...and now this?!?! NOT IN MY NAME.

The pure, unadulterated hatred humanity feels for the Wizometer is also the #1 driver of traffic to this site. Week after week after week, now matter what else I write about, the Wizometer post remains the most-read. And why? Because every day - at least once a day - someone googles something like "wizometer hate" or "what the hell is the wizometer", and ends up on my blog. And tonight I myself googled "wizometer" to see if it's truly specific to Atlanta, or if it's become a nationwide phenomenon. As far as I can tell, it's been contained within the ATL, but that's not the point. The point is that I found this. Sorry I can't embed the video here, but that's how 11Alive rolls - you have to go to their site to watch their awesome video about something they have the audacity to call an "act of kindness".

I'll break it down for you, in case you don't want to click the link (and really, who could blame you?): At some point in the evening news, they'd done a story about a local high school that has implemented some sort of fitness program. And the reporter who visited the school committed a random act of publicity kindness by distributing wristbands featuring the Wizometer. My favorite part is when she holds them up and says, "These are Wizometers," then corrects her minor error by pointing out that they are actually wristbands with pictures of the Wizometer on them. Personally, I think it's splitting hairs. A Wizometer, a picture of a Wizometer - they're both overwrought graphics with meaningless, contextless numbers all over them. As for the alleged "kindness" involved, the only kind act I saw was the gracious acceptance of those things, when you know everyone in the room wanted to burn them in effigy.

Stop trying to make the Wizometer happen, 11Alive. And if you insist on continuing to force feed us Wizometer promotional items, at least have the decency to slap that logo on a roll of toilet paper where it belongs.

THAT'S YOU TOLD.

I am Happy. I am Sorry.

OK, so I guess I'm making this up but I thought that title was stolen from a tweet which was tweeted by one of my favorite UK comedian/blogger types, Michael Legge. But I can't find it in his timeline now, so clearly I invented it out of thin air, along with the story of how he tweeted it while he was in Edinburgh, as well as my own inference that what he meant was that he didn't have anything funny to say, because he wasn't mad about anything, because he was happy.

But that whole paragraph is apparently a mixture of fiction and fantasy. I hope you enjoyed it.

ANYWAY! If it had been true, then I would know exactly how he hypothetically felt! Because I've been struggling with my own blog for the past week, and not because I'm so depressed I want to drink myself into a coma and then slowly die in a puddle of my own vomit, which was the previous reason I was having trouble blogging. Now I'm just too damn happy and I don't have anything to say!

I mean, I could tell you about how happy I am, but that would be boring. It's not like I even have any news to share. I didn't meet any great guys or win a million dollars or anything like that. I managed to enjoy a vacation, which is a pretty major personal victory, but there's only so much you can say about that.

And now it is very cold outside (remembering of course that I am from the South, and anything below 80 degrees is "very cold" to me), which makes me simultaneously happy and sad. I mean let's face it, those three-digit temperatures weren't doing anybody any favors, and probably contributed to what I can only describe as "mass insanity" in August, which led to rioting in England, Rick Perry being taken seriously in the US, and me trying to give up booze and chocolate at the same time. WHAT WERE WE THINKING, YOU GUYS? LOL!

So yeah. Here's this incredibly boring blog post. I couldn't even work up enough snark to write a half-assed Top Ten list or some shit. Here's hoping something makes me miserable again soon!

Too Easy

This morning, I finally got the digital antenna lined up so I could watch something other than Netflix. First order of business was to check out the WPBA schedule because I'm a Masterpiece Mystery junkie and couldn't remember when it aired (I've been without TV for a loooooooong time). Imagine my surprise when I saw this:

10 points for the awesome title, but I think the concept is a little lazy. I've never met a sandwich I didn't like. Somebody at WPBA is phoning it in. 

Also A Good Plan if You Insist on Paying $7 for Junior Mints

As I sat sipping coffee outside a movie theater last week, I saw one of the most wonderful things I’ve ever seen.

An old, half-wrecked car pulled up to the curb in front of the theater between showtimes, and a woman in a t-shirt and shorts got out.

She went directly into the theater without buying a ticket.

The car pulled away.

Two minutes later, she reemerged carrying a ginormous tub of popcorn.

The car reappeared, she got in, and they drove away.

I only wish I’d had the presence of mind to stand and applaud, because I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat down to watch a DVD with some of that crappy low-fat air-popped fake-butter nonsense they sell at the grocery store, thinking, “This is pretty good, but it’s not as good as real popcorn.” And in all my years of half-enjoying movie night, I’ve never thought to get in my car, drive to a movie theater, buy some properly fatted-up popcorn, and bring it back home. What a disappointing failure of imagination on my part.

But Will They Water the Plants?

I spotted this on my way to work earlier this week:

Fuzzy picture courtesy of photography-while-driving

I appreciate the direct, no-nonsense approach. I also enjoy the way the slogan looks like something they got tired of saying over the phone, so they plastered it on the van and hoped people would stop asking dumb questions. It's not "YES! We can monitor your alarm!" It's "Yes, we can monitor your alarm." Never before has a full stop carried with it so much apathy and world-weariness. "Yes, we can monitor your alarm. No, we can't let your dog out to widdle. LOOK DO YOU WANT YOUR ALARM MONITORED OR NOT?"

The REAL Zombie Virus

I don't get the fascination with zombies. I just don't. I don't necessarily have anything against zombies; I just don't think they're the greatest thing in the world and there is nothing cooler and there should be zombies in everything and I'm gonna be a zombie for Halloween and I love zombies because OMG ZOMBIES!!!!!

Once upon a time (2006ish), zombies had a certain counter-culture cool to them - the market wasn't oversaturated with zombie movies, being a zombie enthusiast was unique, and zombies were just about the ONLY product of popular imagination that didn't feature in a Harry Potter plot (unless you count Voldemort as a zombie, and who would do that?). But now zombies are EVERYWHERE! There's a new big-budget movie or TV show about zombies every freaking week! Everyone from Wil Wheaton to Charlie Brooker has churned out a zombie-related story, often with the zeal of someone who genuinely loves his subject matter (rather than that of a hanger-on capitalizing on the zeitgeist). The CDC even managed to get its blog to go viral (no pun intended) by disguising a basic list of emergency kit necessities as a "Zombie Preparedness Guide". Be honest: did you know the CDC even had a blog before you heard about that? Of course you didn't. But they were banking on the #1 rule of publicity that I just made up: use the word "zombie" often enough, and you WILL find an audience. That's certainly the theory behind this blog post, anyway.

I have a lot of dear friends who adore the whole zombie culture and genuinely think anything involving zombies is fantastic. I naturally assumed it was because they were single people in their early 30s, and most of us have had days so dark that having their brain eaten right out of their heads sounded downright appealing. But then I discovered that these people don't actually want to be attacked by zombies - they just like the idea.

So I'm lost.

In the end, I figured I didn't need to understand. The zombie takeover of pop culture had no adverse effect on me...until now. You see, in the past week, I've found various so-called "news sites" smattered with headlines like:
"Zombies Headed from North Henry County to Cobb" (Atlanta Journal Constitution)
"Zombies Take Over Henry County Highway" (also AJC)
"Cobb Co. Authorities Warn of Zombie Mayhem" (wsbtv.com)*

Here's the deal: the TV series "Walking Dead" is filming in and around Atlanta. In a hugely original twist, they apparently feature images of highways strewn with cars crashed by zombies or abandoned by survivors. In order to get these shots, they've had to close stretches of highways in the Atlanta suburbs. So really, this is a traffic story about how you have to take alternate routes around certain areas for a day or two. And in a city with a GINORMOUS traffic problem, that has probably been a serious concern for a lot of people, who could use some information on how best to navigate their daily commute in spite of the closures. Instead, they've been treated to a bunch of news editors/headline writers who are over the moon at the idea that they get to write pretend-zombie-apocalypse headlines. The implied dialogue goes something like this:
PUBLIC: I have 45 minutes to get to work and a major highway on my commute is closed. I know! I'll check the local news for information and advice!
NEWS SOURCE: Zombies! *laugh* HA HA! There are ZOMBIES on the road! Oh nooooo! *snort*
PUBLIC: Well, that headline is ridiculous, but maybe there will be some relevant information in the story...
NEWS SOURCE: A zombie alert - that's right: a ZOMBIE alert! *snort* *giggle* - has been issued for...
PUBLIC: Oh for the love of...

Not that I'm surprised; local newsmedia has always had a knack for ruining everything. But now we've reached a point where the local public is so desensitized that we don't even notice the word "zombie" in the headline anymore. We see "Zombie Apocalypse" and think it's either a traffic closure or a publicity stunt by a government agency. So now, when the REAL zombie apocalypse comes, this will happen:
NEWS SOURCE: THIS JUST IN! ZOMBIES ALERTS HAVE BEEN ISSUED FOR THE FOLLOWING COUNTIES:...
PUBLIC: Yeah yeah, zombies blah blah blah. Why do they hire 12-year old boys to write their headlines? Oh well, I guess I'll click through to see which restaurants had their flat screens stolen last night. I don't want to show up at Taco Mac and find I can't watch the game!
NEWS SOURCE: NO SERIOUSLY!!!

And then we all die. Thanks a lot, local news. Thanks. A. Lot.

*NOTE: I'd like to compliment 11Alive on not only not having a zombie-related headline, but also on featuring the headline "Athens Woman Admits to Sexting With Weiner". It almost makes up for the Wizometer.

Ode to the Pool Guy

I hate to brag, but the fact of the matter is: I live in a way cooler place than you. Like, way WAY cooler. It looks like an Italian villa on the outside, it’s got pretty landscaping…it’s pretty much the best place ever. When I first stepped into the unit I ultimately ended up buying, it was love at first sight. So much natural light! Such lovely dark hardwood floors! Such a pretty view to the pool!

Ah yes. The pool. When I stood in that living room, in February of 2007, I was looking out onto a quiet, pristine, landscaped area with a huge, clean pool in the middle of it. Ahhhh. It was like an oasis. 3 months later, when it was too late to change my mind, the weather got warm and I discovered what the pool really was at various times of the day:

7-8AM: Lap pool for fitness buffs. No real problem there. They’re pretty quiet.

8-10AM: Mommy and me time! Lazy women bring their angry children to scream and yell and splash while they talk on their cell phones. Charming.

10AM-5:30PM: Frat party! No fewer than 3 boomboxes compete to see what’s louder: rap, 80s music, or death metal. (Death metal wins.) Meanwhile drunk guys yell “DUDE!” a lot, and women who can barely manage to stay in their miniscule bikinis prance around and pretend they have any reason to be there other than trying to get laid and land a husband. It’s like watching a National Lampoon movie.

5:30-8PM: Couples swim. Most everyone else has left the pool area to go get some dinner, so whichever couple gets there first ends up having the pool to themselves. Sometimes it’s an older couple, sometimes it’s teenagers, but regardless of their ages, they all do the same thing: make out in the pool for an hour or more. Gross. I HAVE WINDOWS AND I CAN SEE YOU, PEOPLE.

2AM: Drunk assholes wander into the pool area from a party somewhere on the property and proceed to throw each other in, make out, fight, and scream in the sound-amplifying courtyard until…

3AM: Someone calls the cops

So yeah. Living by the pool has not been quite so idyllic as I first imagined.

Until now.

A new guy has moved in. I don’t know who he is, and I doubt I’d recognize him if I saw him dry/wearing a shirt. I call him Pool Guy, and that’s all he ever needs to be. He’s the Grand Master of Ceremonies for the pool, and he. Is. Awesome. Every afternoon at 5, I hear his cannonball break the silence, at which point I go to the window and watch him climb out of the pool, go to his cooler, get a cold Bud Light, and start walking the concrete, whipping his wet hair from his face, swigging from the can, and scanning for new arrivals. Whenever someone enters the courtyard, he makes a beeline for them, shakes their hand, and strikes up a lengthy conversation with them. Sometimes he even offers them a beer. After an hour of this, he has completely dried off and finished his beer, so he runs for the pool, does another cannonball, and thus begins another hour of drinking, hand-shaking and chit-chatting.

It may be the most charming thing I’ve ever seen. He’s the Host of the Pool! Anyone who randomly shows up is automatically an invitee to his Pool Party, and it is amazing! There’s beer! There are regularly scheduled cannonballs! There are no boomboxes (because how would you manage to talk?), and no one gets into a fight. When the Pool Host is on duty, it’s pleasant to be at the pool, or even just to live near it.

I may never know why he does what he does - I actually think I prefer it that way - but regardless of his motivation, he is my hero. The world would be a better place if it had more Pool Guys in it, proffering beer and spreading cannonball-splashes of joy everywhere they went. Thank you, Pool Guy, for making the pool awesome again.

The Meteorologists are Taking the Piss, Literally.

There were about a billion things I loved about London, but my favorite morning pastime was watching the weather reports. Being from the US, I was accustomed to ridiculously detailed, number-intensive forecasts. I expected someone to tell me what the temperature would be at *every* hour throughout the day! I expected precise, localized statistics! Humidity! Highs and lows! Chance of precipitation! Windspeed and maximum anticipated gusts! The exact times I could expect sunrise and sunset! Barometric pressure, even though I have no idea what that is!

The weather reports we got in London were nothing like what I was used to. Obviously the temperatures were given in degrees centigrade, but that's easy enough to work out. What intrigued me were the vague descriptions of clouds - what colour (see what I did there?) they would be, whether or not any of them would rain, and if so, which ones. One morning, while I was visiting with my best friend, we heard a cheerful morning weatherman announce that there would be "some clouds over London [that day], and one of them would rain". I HAVE to believe he misspoke or we misheard him, but either way, we both agreed that this is what the man said. And we enjoyed a lovely day walking around London, pointing to clouds and speculating on whether that was the one that was going to rain. (Spoiler alert: if a cloud rained in London that day, we didn't see it.)

To be clear, I don't mean to mock our British friends. On the contrary, I effing LOVE the UK and would move there in a second if I could. Ask anyone. I suspect that the wildly different weather reporting is due to a variety of factors, including but not limited to the fact that their island is substantially smaller than our continent, and that the weather there is highly changeable (see: bordered by water on all sides, or "island"). And some of it is just plain cultural, I'm sure. We Americans are conditioned to expect information overload from our TV weathermen, and we will accept nothing less!

Or so I thought.

But sometime in the last year, the most breathtakingly asinine thing EVER happened, and they called it "The Wizometer".

As you can see, they contend that it's called the Wizometer because "WIZ" stands for "Weather Information Zone". I submit that it's actually called the Wizometer because whoever came up with it is taking a huge whiz on the collective brains of everyone in the metro Atlanta area. (NOTE: I realize that this joke is both unoriginal and just plain bad. But if they're going to set the joke up for us, we are morally obliged to keep making it until they end this madness.) This thing makes the "one cloud is gonna rain" approach look like an official NASA weather report. I genuinely thought it was a joke until I actually saw an 11Alive "meteorologist" referring to it with a straight face. Let's break it down, shall we?

What. The hell. Is this?

Point #1: The Wizometer goes up to 11. If this were a wry reference to Spinal Tap, I would say fair enough. But it isn't. It's just because the station is 11Alive, therefore the thing goes up to 11. You know why the whole "goes up to 11" thing was a joke in the first place? Because it is ridiculous to use 11 as the maximum number on any scale. There, I said it. It's even worse for being so blatant. Look at the screenshot above, where the elevens have been replaced with the station logo. Classy! This crap makes me want to kill myself, and I can't even coordinate my own clothes. I don't know how genuinely artsy people have survived looking at this train wreck on their TV screens day after day.

Point #2: These numbers are meaningless. As you can see on the so-called "5 Day Forecast" above, temperatures and chance-of-precipitation percentages are still displayed, albeit grudgingly and in much smaller/less attention-grabbing font than that of the Almighty Wizometer, blessed be its ridiculous name. So if that number doesn't tell me the temperature, or how cloudy the sky will be, why is it even there? My grandmother, who watches more of this crap than I do, said it was meant to be an indication of "how nice a day it will be". So in theory, a 1 on the Wizometer is a terrible day, and an 11 is a beautiful day! But that, too, is absurd. If I want to go ice skating, then below-freezing temperatures and precipitation = a perfect day. But if I want to spend a lazy weekend at the lake, 51/81 (listed as an 11 in the example above) won't be warm enough for my purposes. WHO GETS TO DECIDE WHAT CONSTITUTES A "GREAT" DAY?

Point #3: Atlanta already has a crime and violence problem.
ME: Hey, do you know what the weather's supposed to be like today?
11Alive Viewer: Six.
ME: (grabs 11Alive Viewer's copy of Eat Pray Love and beats her over the head with it)
C'mon 11Alive, be part of the solution.

Point #4: The Wizometer creates division and strife. As demonstrated in Point #3, by inventing their own little proprietary way of reporting what should simply be a dispassionate, objective series of numbers, 11Alive has ensured that their viewers will slowly become a population apart from the rest of the city. No longer able to discuss weather conditions with others, they will be rendered incapable of small talk at parties, or will sound like babbling idiots when they declare that "Tomorrow will be a 6 on the Wizometer!" No doubt some of them will think the proprietary weirdness of this system is a plus, as it means they'll get to explain it to the rest of us! To those people I say: "Do not try to explain the Wizometer to me unless you are wearing a helmet."

Point #5: The Wizometer is utterly superfluous. Who the hell demanded a new system of weather reporting anyway? We all know what the usual stats are, what they mean, and how to complain about them effectively. Was there a segment of the population that was overwhelmed by the quadruple-whammy of hearing the high, the low, the humidity, and the chance of precipitation for the day? Is there a moron somewhere in our fair city who was tearing his or her hair out screaming, "82 degrees...68 degrees...53%... WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN? WHY CAN'T IT ALL BE BOILED DOWN TO ONE UNSCIENTIFIC NONSENSE TRADEMARKED NUMBER?" I mean, I've met some idiots in this city, but I still don't think this is plausible.

I just think we should let the meteorologists deal with the weather and keep the marketing department out of it. I will decide whether I think it'll be a great day or not, thanks.