Previous month:
April 2008
Next month:
June 2008

May 2008

Taking Aim at A Stupid Proposal for National Parks

Near-iceberg-lake-glacier-national-park-montana You have got to be kidding me. The federal government is thinking about letting visitors to our national parks carry loaded, concealed weapons. (The same proposal would allow these good-to-go guns at wildlife refuges and monuments.

The Weatherman and I love to visit national parks. In fact, there was a period when our children felt deeply deprived, because we'd never taken them to Disney World. Instead, the poor kids were exposed to the wonder and beauty of Glacier National Park (pictured here), Yellowstone, Bryce, Zion and several other parks.

There have only been two times I have ever felt scared or threatened in a national park. One wasSw38 when a huge line of motor homes were heading our way on a narrow road. The other was when we were hiking in some of the more remote parts of Glacier, where there are grizzly bears. As park rangers will tell you, these bears are plenty frightened of you, too, and if you don't surprise them, you're ok. (We were the ones loudly singing the soundtrack from "The Sound of Music" before we rounded corners. Talk about scary!)

Anyway, here is a quote from the National Rifle Association, which of course supports the proposal: "You read stories about people attacked by animals or who stumble upon meth labs or women who are raped in a national park."

Yeah, those meth labs are plentiful in the parks, I've noticed that. I don't know about you, but as a nature lover and as a woman,  I'm sure I'll feel a lot safer knowing that hundreds of strangers are wandering the parks toting loaded concealed weapons. Not.

Spinning Out of Control

Spin About twice a week, I take a spinning class at my gym. It's a challenging 50 minutes, you work up quite a sweat and burn up a good amount of calories. (And there's no impact on aging joints, another bonus.)

Anyway, there is one guy in the class that I always keep my distance from. He looks to be about 60, and he insists on doing the class at triple the speed as the rest of us. If we are told to peddle at a moderate rate, his legs are pumping fast. If we're told to pump fast, he is like a maniac, spokes flying. He is always beet red and I live in fear that one of these days he's going to have a heart attack smack  in the middle of class.

But the real reason I avoid  Speedy is because of the sweat issue. This guy sweats something fierce. And as the class goes on, and he gets more worked up, the sweat starts to fly. You definitely don't want to be on the bike behind him. But sometimes he is so agitated that his stationery bike starts to migrate across the floor. The sweat comes with him, so you really can't be next to him or behind him on the left or right, either. Just to compound the insult, when we stretch out after class, he takes his shoes off. Yuck.

I will, however, say this for Sweaty, Speedy, Stinky Guy  - he is quiet. I am thinking about him today because I just read about
an assault case in a spinning class in Manhattan. Evidently the offensive spinner in this class grunted and shouted out things like "Feel the Burn!" and "You Go Girl!" Finally another spinner had enough, and walked over to this guy's bike, picked it up, pushed it against a wall (mind you Yelling Guy was still on it) and then dropped the bike. Yelling Guy was hospitalized with neck and back problems and Angry Guy was charged with assault.

I was sharing all this just now with The Boy, and he said, "That's why I don't exercise in groups." He has a point.

School Stories - the Ying and the Yang

Class_kids2 Been working on a lot of school stories lately. Last week, I was in Mt. Vernon, in a second grade classroom, where the children were learning Mandarin. The principal described the school as "99 percent African-American and African- Carribean," and the majority of kids there qualify for subsidized lunches. Every student from kindergarten through fifth grade was being taught Chinese. I've sat in a lot of classrooms in my day, but I was lost in this one - the kids were actually conversing in Mandarin. They were introducing themselves to the teacher, and then introducing the child next to them to the teacher. They sang in Mandarin. The counted in Mandarin. It impressed the heck out of me.753f975750cf0ec62f4d59371dd27593

This morning - at the ungodly hour of 7:30 a.m., I interviewed the two co-valedictorians at Horace Greeley High School in Chappaqua, a highly competitive district in an upscale suburb, where most of the kids can afford cars, let alone their lunch. I was really hoping the two high achievers would be ready to scratch each other's eyes out in competitive glee - it would have made for a far more interesting story. But it turns out the girls are good friends and seem to be genuinely pleased to share the honor.

Well, I'll probably never speak Chinese and it's certain that I will never be a valedictorian - that train left the station decades ago. But hey - at least I'm still learning things in school.

Wild Life

Red_fox On Monday, in the early evening, I was lounging in our family room and chatting on the phone with my brother-in-law, Frank. Suddenly, I saw a horrible sight out the window. There was my youngest cat, Maddy, streaking across the backyard. Not three feet behind her was a red fox, about three times her size, in hot pursuit. The fox chased her into the woods behind our house, and then I lost sight of them.

I dropped the phone and ran outside, along with my son. We gave chase ourselves, but to no avail. After about 10 minutes, my son and I returned to the house. He retrieved a golf club (don't ask me - it was the first threatening potential weapon he saw) and I manned the door, in case Maddy came running back home. My son was gone for 45 minutes. Eventually, he came upon the fox in the woods. He made some threatening noises, flailed the golf club, the the fox high-tailed it. But no sign of Maddy, and an ominous circling of hawks in the sky nearby.Maddy on lap

Well, this story has a happy ending. Herself came sauntering back home a few minutes later, without a scratch on her. Later we learned that foxes tend not to pursue cats, unless the cat has happened upon a nest of fox babies. I can easily picture this having happened, because Maddy gets excited by any small movement, let alone novel smell.

When Maddy was missing and I was trying not to let my mind go to what had become of her, and fox teeth and all, I was berating myself about how I always make fun of the kitty's seeming lack of brains. I believe I have blogged before about Maddy's steep, steep learning curve. I was so delighted to have her home safe and sound that  I swore I would never bad mouth her stupidity again.

And then, 10 minute after she returned home from her fox ordeal, Maddy went over to the door and cried to be let out. Is it possible she had already forgotten? I love her, but that cat is riding the short bus.

Going Back in Time

Cartoon_calendar1 I got a challenge from Riogringa, a fellow blogger, not to mention the daughter of TivoLady.

She had complied a round-up of what she was up to at certain points in her life, plus some top 5 lists. She asked a few other bloggers to do the same. Can't do it all, Rachel, but here is a partial attempt:

What I was doing 10 years ago: Living in the suburbs, with the Weatherman, a 12 year old daughter in middle school and a 9 year old son who was crazy about soccer and hockey. Writing for the NYT Westchester section and this week in 1998, published
an article about program to prevent teen pregnancies, in which teens had to carry around dolls called "Baby Think It Over," which, as I recall, howled, mimicked bathroom activities, vomited and did other distasteful things which were meant to make early parenthood look as distasteful as possible.

What I was doing 5 years ago: Living in the suburbs, with a 17 year old daughter who was a  high school senior, already accepted to college and anticipating prom, her birthday, and graduation, and a 14 year old son who was crazy about soccer and hockey. This week in 2003, I published a NYT column called "
When Senioritis Strikes." Enough said on that. I also interviewed Bill Clinton that week for an article that would run the following week on the ex-president's new life in Chappaqua.

What I was doing one year ago: Living in the suburbs, with the Weatherman, daughter, 21, who had graduated from college and was looking for a job and an apartment in NYC. Son, 18, was about to graduate from high school and go to college. He was crazy about soccer and hockey. This week in 2007, I published a NYT column on whether there should be
a Sing Sing Prison museum built in Ossining.

What I was doing yesterday: Living in the suburbs with the Weatherman. But this weekend, both my kids are visiting home. My daughter, 22, who now lives and works in Manhattan, arrived yesterday and my son, 19, came home from college after finishing his freshman year, the day before. He is still crazy about hockey, probably less passionate about soccer. Yesterday a lot of the day was spent cooking, because today I was hosting a birthday party for my Dad. So yesterday I prepared chicken wings and birthday cake - today was burgers, salad, corn and tomatoes. I didn't publish anything this week in the NYT, but next week will have a front page article (in the Regional section) on the popularity of Mandarin language instruction in the schools.

5 Things I Will Never Wear: thong underwear, leather pants, anything with feathers, any shoe higher than a 3 inch heel, a string bikini.

College Boy Returns

He's home. The boy is finally home from college. Boy, have I missed him. The Weatherman drove up to Maine to get him, and they arrived last night. This is what the back hall looked like this morning.
DSCN9092 Here's a close-up:
DSCN9106 But that's ok. Because there was also a note, on top of all these piles:
DSCN9098 See why I'm glad to have this boy home?

Excuse me, have you seen my $Billions?

Pentagon   OK - This isn't some crazy critic of the government making up these figures. This comes from an audit by the Pentagon. A whopping $8.2 billion of American tax payer money (that's our hard-earned bucks, folks) that the US Army paid to contractors was doled out without following federal rules, and because of that, we have no record of what millions and millions of dollars actually paid for.

I don't know about your household, but each month, when The Weatherman and I go over the bills - especially the Master Card bill - we review what every charge was for, and then put it in a budget category - heath, household, whatever. It wouldn't really fly if I say, "Huh? That  $20,000? Gee, I can't remember where it went. Receipt? Nope, didn't think to get one."

Here are some examples from the Pentagon audit: A cash payment of $320.8 million in Iraqi money was authorized on the basis of a single signature. What was it for? Well, scribbled on the back was "Iraqi Salary Payment." Another $11.1 million (keep in mind this is OUR money) was paid to an American contractor, with no record of what  services were delivered. Then there were payments to other countries - like $45.3 million to Poland and $21.3 million to South Korea. The Pentagon said they were unable to determine why the payments were made.

But hey, I guess we shouldn't complain because the war is going so well, and the Iraqis are so happy we are fighting for them. Like yesterday, when  an American helicopter strike killed 8 civilians, including two children. Those deaths came a few days after Iraqis were enraged after an American soldier admitted that he had used a Koran for target practice near Baghdad. What a debacle.

Who Is Ryan Seacrest?

Ryan-seacrest-300a100606 I consider myself fairly culturally attuned. I read a lot, and even if I haven't seen a particular movie or read the latest novel, I usually at least know about it. Except for TV. When I tell people I don't watch TV, they don't really grasp it. They think I mean I don't watch much TV.

Don't get me wrong. We own a TV set. And sometimes, after there has been a buzz about a show, I Netflix it. So I've seen Sex and the City (Sex In the City?) and Gray's Anatomy. Also, I've watched re-runs of Seinfeld. Once, when I was laid up in bed, I watched the Oprah Winfrey show and I can't for the life of me figure out what the fuss is about.

Anyway, in general, I don't like TV and I don't spend my time in front of it. So I'm working on my book proposal (no comment on the topic until after the book is sold) and it turns out there is a tangential relationship between the topic and a new show being produced by someone named Ryan Seacrest. I have never heard of this person. Evidently he is on the reality show "American Idol" which I have heard of, but have never seen.

You can't imagine the reaction of people around me when I said, "Who is Ryan Seacrest?" Oh come on! How could you be so out of it? Such an imbecile! You're kidding, right?

You would think I had asked, "Who is William Shakespeare?" or "Have you ever heard of this book called 'The Bible?'"

So here's my new question: "Why should I care who Ryan Seacrest is?"

Hillary's Vision

Hillary26 I was going to begin this post by comparing Hillary Clinton to George W. Bush. The parallel is in their refusing to acknowledge the reality around them. No matter how clear it is to the rest of the Democratic party that the nomination is no longer in her grasp, Hillary perseveres. She is, she tells us, "no quitter."  Kind of reminds me of Bush and Iraq. In spite of overwhelming evidence of failure, she believes in her mission and she's sticking to it.

I also take issue with Hillary saying that it was sexism that held her back. I believe racism is far more powerful then sexism, though God knows in this country both are plenty powerful. Still, studies have shown that  when a person meets another,  the first thing they register is race, not gender.

Anyway, while I stick to everything I wrote above, before I blog each morning I search for images on the web to illustrate the post. When I searched photos of Hillary this morning, I came across so many nasty images - Hillary's face photo-shopped onto a man's body, and onto a bikini -clad body, and onto an animal's body, and standing at a urinal and on and on. All kinds of stupid, sexist, nasty stuff.

I'm sure I could find similar images of Obama if I cared to, but the whole exercise was depressing. Sexism is rampant. Racism is rampant. And mean-spiritedness is everywhere. 

The Glamorous Writing Life

Crazywriter Oh the life of a writer! You know how fabulous it is - off to exotic locales, inspiration striking, adoring editors waiting patiently for your next brilliant dispatch.

Yeah, right. So last night I was out with a fellow journalist, bemoaning the state of the newspaper industry and second-guessing our career choices. It was the usual uplifting spirit when two writers get together.

Actually we did have fun and I learned an important new word - "newzheimer's." This is for us overloaded reporters who can no longer remember what we ourselves have written. This happens more and more lately. I come across a topic and I wonder - didn't I cover that once? Did I read about this or write about this? I just checked the NYT archives, and my byline comes up 712 times, so it's no wonder that I sometimes forget what I've done.

Now it's time to sit down and get inspired for the day to sit down and tackle  two articles and the book proposal. Here is an inspirational quote from yesterday's Times, from the late Ian Fleming, on the writing life: "If I wait for genius to come, it just doesn't arrive."

Weatherman Weekend

Weather_new_logo What a weekend for the Weatherman! Friday started with a thrill - the Weatherman's appearance on the Weather Channel! This completely unbiased reporter thought he did a fabulous job on television and that he is ready for prime time. But you can check it out yourself.

By the way, I appreciated the description of his wife as at first "bemused" and then "confused," given the wide choice of adjectives he could have fairly employed about my initial reaction to his career change.

But if national TV exposure wasn't enough, (along with a couple of localGraduation_ecoli articles that keep mysteriously appearing with quotes, despite the fact that none of these reporters actually interviewed him) there was graduation day on Sunday. The Weatherman did the whole cap and gown thing, and even though I was the only one there from the family, I had befriended people in the stands around me, so by the time he walked across the stage, a lot of people were cheering for him.

Congratulations to My Weatherman on an amazing journey. Stay tuned to find out what's next...

Staying On Track

Dsc00837 I have long marveled at my kids' ability to multi-task. I mean I can balance the big stuff - raising children, running a household and working as a journalist. But I can only manage to do one thing at a time.

My kids - like most people in their generation - can be online, answering emails, instant messaging, listening to music, while on their cel phones (alternately speaking and texting), while at the same time working on a calculus problem.

I can only move linearly - from one project to the next. Right now I have two assignments from the NYT for regional cover stories, and one very large assignment from my agent for my book proposal. This probably doesn't sound complicated - it's just 3 writing projects. But first of all, they are three different topics, and then the news articles require a completely different mind set, not to mention writing style, than the book proposal.Cat_sleeping

So instead of multi-tasking I just try to divide the work day into chunks - two hours here for the NYT; two hours there for the book proposal. Except that I'll be knee-deep in writing the proposal, when someone I've called to interview about an article on Mandarin language instruction will return my call and I get totally derailed.

Well, these are lucky kind of problems to have. I do have work that I love. And as a bonus, a large gray cat curled up at my feet to lend his support. Oops - got distracted again.

The Price of Doing Business

Frustrated300 Today the Weatherman and I had to bring our 1998 Volvo to a repair shop to have its brakes checked. (They've been smoking.) There's a place 7 and a half miles north of here that specializes in old Volvos.

Lord knows what the repairs will set us back, but what struck us today was the cost of just getting to and from the auto repair shop. Trip one: the Weatherman drives the ailing Volvo to the garage, and I follow him in my relatively spanking new 2001 Saab.  Trip two: we leave the Volvo and both drive home in the Saab. Trip 3 - once the brakes are repaired,  we will both drive up in the Saab, and pick up the Volvo. Trip 4 - we drive home both cars.

It adds up to three 15 mile round trips, or 45 miles.
Say both cars get about 25 miles per gallon, and if we are lucky enough find gas for just $4 a gallon,  that means the repair will cost more than $7 in gas. Maybe $7 doesn't sound like that much, but  what gets me is that's just the price of admission.

Struggling to Prevent Suicides at the Tappan Zee Bridge

Published: May 11, 2008

SIGNS on the Tappan Zee Bridge tell motorists, “Life Is Worth Living.” They direct people to suicide hot lines on the span, where above each callbox another sign reads, “When it seems like there is no hope, there is help.”

But since they were installed in August, the four phones have yet to be used by anyone contemplating suicide. Despite the efforts of the New York State Thruway Authority, which manages the Tappan Zee, the bridge continues to be a lure for would-be jumpers. April was the worst month in the recent memory of authority officials. Three people leapt to their deaths from the bridge, two within one hour of each other. A fourth person was talked down from the railing.

The rash of suicides has led the authority to consider whether to take further steps to address the problem. Officials are now considering whether bridge maintenance workers, tow truck operators and others, who are often the first on the scene of a potential suicide, should be trained in how to handle such situations.

“Those are the people who have their eyes and ears on the bridge all the time,” said Ramesh Mehta, a division director of the authority.

Nonetheless, Mr. Mehta said, the authority was unsure whether bridge workers should be counted on to intervene in such situations. He said that the state police and emergency workers, who are called to the scene of potential suicides, already receive such training.

Thirty people have leapt to their deaths from the Tappan Zee Bridge in the last 10 years; others have been talked down, and a handful have been rescued from the water.

Bridge workers come across potential suicides in the course of their everyday duties. Sometimes they arrive just in time to grab someone around the waist and pull him or her back to safety. Other times, they try to talk the person down.

On April 24, a Thruway Authority electrician came upon a suicidal man at a railing. The electrician told the man that he had problems of his own, showed him family photos and implored him not to jump. Eventually the man was lifted over the railing and back to safety.

Ernie Feeney, a tow truck operator for the authority, has dealt with four suicidal people in the last four years. He has saved three people, but the man he lost still haunts him. A few years ago, Mr. Feeney said, he approached a man standing in front of his stopped car on the bridge, which at its peak rises about 150 feet above the Hudson River. He assumed that the man had a flat tire or had run out of gas.

“I pulled in front of him, and I asked, ‘What’s wrong with your car?’ ” Mr. Feeney said. “And all he says to me was, ‘Tell my brother the keys are on the front seat.’ And I said, ‘Well, what’s wrong with the car?’ And he went to jump.”

Mr. Feeney grabbed the man but lost his grip when his own arm hit the railing.

Compounding the problem for bridge workers is the fact that the suicide hot lines are positioned at either end of the span, but people tend to jump from the middle of the three-mile-long bridge. But Mr. Mehta said that installing boxes in the middle of the bridge would endanger other motorists.

April and May are the peak months for suicides, said Gary L. Spielmann, former director of suicide prevention for the New York State Office of Mental Health and now a consultant to the New York State Bridge Authority. He said that the Tappan Zee happens to connect two counties with the lowest annual suicide rates in New York State. (Westchester has a suicide rate of 4.0 per 100,000 residents; Rockland’s is 2.6.)

Mr. Spielmann speculated that at this point, “the notoriety of the bridge may be feeding on itself.”

He said that educating people on simple changes in the use of language could sometimes prevent a suicide. For instance, “help is on the way” is far less threatening to a suicidal person than “the police have been called.”

Mr. Spielmann said he had sympathy for Thruway Authority workers and officials.

“Given the situation, I hope they take the opportunity for training,” he said.

Staying Well

J0384859787367_2 Today the NYT published a special section called "Well." It's chock full of articles about maintaining your health, and I read it with interest. Not surprisingly, we are suppose to eat right and exercise and keep our cholesterol and blood pressure under control.

Because I have a significant history of breast cancer in my family, I read "Reducing Your Risk of Breast Cancer" carefully. The author says that lifestyle choices can play a significant role, and that alcohol is a risk factor - "none is best."

OK - now on to the next article about heart health. Heart disease kills more women then breast cancer, so I wanted to check this out too. It says that "large observational studies show that drinking moderate amounts of alcohol can lower the risk of dying in a given year by about 25%, compared with those who never drink."

Oh hell. I'm going to keep doing what I've been doing - exercising, having a nice dinner and a glass of wine. And I'm throwing in the occasional dessert, because life is short and our sense of control over our bodies and fates is to a large part illusionary anyway.

Delivering A Message

Geer_letter_650 Last week I was sorting through a box of old papers, and I came across a group of letters from my late Grandpa Bill. My grandfather, who lived in Texas, was a faithful correspondent and a loving man. He and my grandmother were not well enough to travel to my wedding, though the Weatherman and I did travel to Austin two months afterwards to visit.

On our second wedding anniversary, the Weatherman and I brought home our newborn daughter from the hospital. My grandfather, by then ailing, was particularly proud that we had given his family name to our little girl as a middle name.We sent photos and updates on the baby. My grandpa died a few months after she was born.

Among the letters I found last week was this: "Since we do not get to see that beautiful, precious little Jeanie I can assure you we nearly eat pictures of her on sight. We are very happy and proud that you two young people have found success, happiness and a budding family so early in life. Some of these years after Jeanie is old enough to understand please assure her she had two great grandparents who adored her, even as they love and treasure her parents today."

(Needless to say I get tear-y eyed just typing this.)

I just  belatedly delivered this message to my daughter, nearly 23 years after it was written. And as I write about all this in cyberspace, I realize how grateful I am to have my Grandfather's letters, written on paper, solid, real, lasting and treasured.

Me and My Girl

72502800 I used to never have any patience with women who would say, "My daughter and I are more like best friends than mother and daughter." Huh? It always seemed to me that a girl absolutely needed a Mom, and not another friend, to guide her, love her, and yes - sometimes nag, discipline,and confront her in ways that sometimes made that daughter angry, unhappy and resentful.

My daughter is turning 23 at the end of this month, and I'm starting to rethink this. It's not that I think that my mothering days with her are over. I am primarily and forever, my daughter's mother, with all the caring and worrying and loving that implies.

But now that she's really grown up - working, living on her own, managing her own life - the relationship is also transforming into something else. Last night we had dinner together in Manhattan, and we just had so much fun. We talked about our lives, gossiped, laughed, and I realized that she is one of my favorite people in the world to hang out with.

I'm not sure what the right word is to describe it, but even "best friend" doesn't begin to do it justice.


Exercise_2 So I saw my doctor for a follow-up visit after my scare at the gym. After she pronounced me fine, I asked her if perhaps I was working out too much or too hard or wrong. Maybe I shouldn't be doing a lot of cardio classes like kick-boxing or cycling? Maybe I should move into a gentle yoga?

Since my doctor is exactly my age and she is a runner, I should have known better. Her answer was no, no, no! Cardio is critical for calorie burning, not to mention cardio-vascular health. Moreover, she told me, if at my age, I wanted to lose weight, I should be working out AN HOUR AND A HALF SEVEN DAYS A WEEK.

I'm not kidding. She said it wasn't as bad as it sounded - a 45 minute exercise class and a brisk walk in one day. Holy Cow! I thought I was cooking with an hour a day five days a week. She may have also mentioned something about calorie intake, but I was still reeling from the exercise news.

It tires me out just thinking about it.

Speed Racer

D903speedracergangposters So last night, Hillary Clinton told her supporters in Indianapolis, "It's full-speed on to the White House."

Really? That's going to be one rough road, given her overwhelming defeat in North Carolina, and her squeaking-over-the-finish line win in Indiana.

Obama currently leads in pledged delegates and in states won, and he is ahead in the popular vote, if Florida and Michigan are not factored into the equation. (Those states are being penalized for moving their primaries up in violation of party rules. Obama wasn't even on the ballot in Michigan and neither candidate campaigned in Florida.)

Fasten your seat belts folks. This is going to be one bumpy ride.

Weatherman's Interview

Weather_channel_truck Oh the excitement! The Weather Channel sent a reporter and camera crew to interview the Weatherman up at his meteorology program yesterday. They interviewed him, taped him in class and then taped his Internet forecast, a campus program called "The Weather People."

After my Weatherman was done with his forecast, the reporter actually applauded!

She asked him why he made the switch from corporate life and what he would advise others who are considering making such a move. Evidently she also asked how his family reacted, and he told me that he said something like, "My wife was confused and then bemused." I'm not sure "bemused" is quite the right adjective, but - hey - it wasn't my interview. And I'm certainly very proud of him.

Still don't know when the show will air, but you'll hear it here first!

She's A Fighter

Ph2007110101098 I'm surprised I haven't run into Hillary Clinton in kickboxing class. No, wait, New York votes aren't important right now.

Man, I am tired of this fighting imagery. It's not enough she posed with boxing gloves. How about the North Carolina Governor Michael Easley, endorsing her by saying, "She makes Rocky Balboa look like a pansy." Yes, let's throw a little gay-bashing into our praise. And then there was the union leader who highlighted her "testicular fortitude." Oh goody, sexism too. Why, she's so tough, she's must be part man!

Look, I don't support Hillary. I think people are confusing toughness with a willingness to do or say anything to get elected. But John McCain struggled back from what looked like certain defeat, and did they call him "ballsy"? No, he was "The Come Back Kid." This at the age of 71.

And by the way, we already have a belligerent, pugnacious president in power. How's that been working out?

The Democratic primary is getting me depressed. The coverage is getting me depressed. The tone is getting me depressed.

Is it November yet?

Weatherman To Appear on Weather Channel!

Weather_new_logo At least we're pretty sure he will! The other day I got a call from a reporter from the Weather Channel. She has seen the article I had written in the NYT about the Weatherman's career change.

She said that the Weather Channel would themselves like to interview the Weatherman. "A lot of our viewers love the weather," she told me, "but few take it to the extent that your husband has."Weatherchannel

Tell me about it. Anyway, these things are never certain until they actually air, but we do know this: The Weather Channel is sending the reporter and a camera crew to the Weatherman's school on Monday, where he'll be taped in class, doing a forecast and then interviewed.

This is all very exciting. Stay tuned to this channel (that is, this blog) for possible air date and time.....