Fancy terrible

Right behind the smell of hazelnut coffee and citing Infowars or Occupy Democrats as a news source, my biggest pet peeve is weathermen and women who feel they must stand in the torrential rains that follow a hurricane in order to adequately portray the seriousness of it.

In my day I’ve seen one guy hang on to a pole in gale force winds while screaming incoherently into a shock-proof microphone to earn his paycheck. As Ma Ma Thelma used to say, “There’s just no reason for that kind of nonsense.”

I spent Sunday night with that kind of performative reporting, which I might add, is unnecessary.

Do they let us know that the heat index is 118 degrees by reporting in the blazing sun in a speedo or bikini slathered up in baby oil and egg whites? No. But I’d still believe it’s hotter than a $10 gun out there.

When did this proof of valor by hurricane thing begin? If I have any meteorologist friends out there, please advise.

And to the more important subject, our prayers and help should be going to Louisiana right now as they clean up from Hurricane Ida while their hospitals are already filled to capacity from COVID-19. This really is a huge crisis.

I ran across a quote last week from one of my favorite quotables, Dorothy Parker, that speaks perfectly to this, “This wasn’t just plain terrible, this was fancy terrible. This was terrible with raisins in it.”

We all need a break these days, but this week, Louisiana needs an extra fancy break.