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They Have Struck Again!
April 25, 2008 - Wes Burns
Thursday night. I am not to be talked to, called, or in any other way communicated with while watching television on Thursday night. Mostly between the hours of 8 and 9. This is when The Office is on. This is when 30 Rock is on (I am a recent convert to the show). This is not the time for interruptions.
I have lived in Iowa all my life. (just wait, the transition is going to make sense). I have a lot of the same experiences many of you have: I went to an elementary school were people threw homemade explosives at LP tanks, I never learned how to ride a bike, and I had lunch with a Russian governor. Just like everybody else.
And just like everybody else I experienced the wonder of the springtime storm. As a child I hated thunderstorms. Just the idea of one coming was enough to ruin a good day. Through all of this my parents, who were incredibly patient with me, explained that all you had to do was go inside when it started and that this was just normal for an Iowa spring.
That last line needs special attention. "This is just normal for an Iowa spring". Which brings us back to Thursday night. I'm trying to watch tonight's episode of 30 Rock when the ubiquitous bottom screen scroll leaves, and is replaced by the bespectacled face of one of our local weatherman. The glasses tell me all I need to know; there is a tornado somewhere and its game time.
The scroll is still present and, simultaneously with the weatherman, explaining that I should move indoors. The only way that would be helpful is if I was watching television outdoors and hadn't noticed that it started to rain. At that point in my life maybe the weather isn't my biggest obstacle.
There are about three of you saying to yourself "didn't he already talk about this in another blog?" I touched on this subject in my Bloggy nominated entry "Omega Doppler". The reason I'm still talking about it is because nothing has changed. I have lost yet another television viewing experience to the horrors of local weather.
With that in mind I ask something of my intrepid readers: please, do all that you can to never allow a travesty like this to happen again. Write letters, call your congressmen, control the very weather itself; all of these would be appreciated. Egregiously long weather announcements must be stopped. But please, just please, don't make me lose another of my beloved shows. Together we can stop this menace.
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