(editors note: for those who appreciate perpetuating temporal continuity in blog entries, i wrote the "Point" last night and the "Counter Point" today.  thus making the timing of the news referenced consistent with the space time continuum.  

Point.

I see an ironic twist slowly happening.

Twenty years ago we had the weather girl.  She was good looking, and preferably very smart good looking.  And she was fetishized, and underhandedly mocked, and 'less than.'

Today the weather is tossed to the quirky meteorologist.  He or she has thick glasses, a strange voice and/or a not ready for t.v. stage act that is incorporated into their broadcast.  And they are mocked for their misplaced self-importance and for being weirdos and for being less than. 

But their day is coming.  Soon, the weather will be the news.  Hell, the news is the weather today!  Mmf and i briefly turned to the news and it proceeds . . . cut

to Arizona/New Mexico.  fires traveling through the desert eating the dry landscape like it was gasoline.  The smoke plume from the fire is making the air unbreathable and evacuations are ongoing . . . cut

to flooding of both the mississippi (still fun to write, even in tragedy) and missouri rivers.  they showed a damn opening and the town with sandbags braced for impact below.  a town in iowa may soon be underwater . . . cut

to record high temperatures across most of the middle and southeast of the country.  Easily hitting 100 degrees many places.  The wave is headed east tomorrow.  "Can't wait!," says Sarcastic Sam.

there were more cuts.  I think two more.  I can't remember exactly.  I do remember that it was enough cuts that mmf asked, "is this for real?"  This comes after driving through springfield, MA twice this weekend, passed the mangled trees lining the river.  scary stuff folks.

we need to quickly get past the conversation about if global warning is a real thing, and we need to begin solving the problem of how we will be dealing with it's repercussions while we try to reverse the damage we've done.  because they are not "coming," future tense, they are here, present tense.

I've said it before, and i'll say it again, i look around me and all i see is the beginning of the premise of almost every disaster-porn movie we've ever made.  Cept for maybe The Core.  That shit is just silly.  We should be more worried about this.  Weather people, prepare to be serious people very soon.

Counter Point:

This past weekend i had the exhilarating pleasure of officiating my friends wedding.  I married em.  I married em good.

And part of my pleasure in marrying them, besides them being a wonderful example of love to be celebrated, was the task of writing a little wedding talk for them.  On this blog i have the constant luxury of writing about whatever the hell i feel like.  I can talk about my poop or killing osama.  i would say thats a pretty open landscape.  But writing a wedding speech is a much more directed assignment, and i enjoyed delving into both what is meaningful to me, and them, about marriage.

additionally, the whole experience of officiating was nerve-wracking.  In a good way.  I rarely get nervous, and when i do, it's usually because im doing something really worthwhile.  This was no exception,  i road that adrenaline well into the dance party.

And dance i did.  As a former dance major i can, to put it simple, can tear it up.  People throughout my adulthood have giggled at the prospect of my dance background, until they see me dance.  Then i get props.  Which is good and all, but for whatever reason, dance has never been about showing off for me.  As i told a friend recently, "dance is practically the only thing i do in life that i don't want attention for."  Perhaps because i learned it as an art, perhaps because i matured dancing alone on the dance floor of a kibbutz bar in Israel.  I'm not sure.  But, even though getting watched while i dance (socially, not in performance, obviously) makes me a little uncomfortable, it pales in comparison to the elation of dancing it out good every once in awhile.  and mmf and i cut up a mofo rug. 

also, we had a great ass time.  their friends are hilarious and this story happened.  to prove it, i provide pictures.  i have a loose consent to post them, and therefore im going for it.

The brides best friend and homosexual extraordinaire, we'll call him Rupert (hahaa. Yah, we're calling him Rupert).  Rupert is super excited and at least a little very intoxicated.  As mmf and i exit our hotel room into the hallway, Rupert pops out from his room, 2 rooms down on the same side, wearing nothing but bikini briefs, his yarmulke from the wedding, and a huge smile.  This is made all the funnier considering he is a red-headed non-jew who happily proclaims "i'm a goy!" when given the opportunity.

"HEY GUYS!!!!!!!!" *huge smiling wave*

click . . . click . . . bang

 Me:  "The door to your room just closed behind you huh?"

Rupert:  "Uh huh"

Me: "You don't have a key to your room, do you?"

Rupert: "Nope."

Me: "Amazing."

What transpired next mmf and i followed about 4 paces behind.  We were bent at the waist, laughing our faces off and bracing ourselves up with the walls, as we watched as Rupert marched his little bikini clad bottom up to the front desk to get a new key. 

"just happy to be here"

"i'm supposed to meet someone from the JDate?"