Friday, March 2, 2012

The View From My Ass. My Home State, My Father, My Breibart, My God!!

March is here! And it came in like a...Well it came in closer to lamb than to a lion I'll put it that way. Still the wind kept it from being as nice as a 52 degree sunshiny day can be. And tomorrow it's suppose to rain and maybe drop a flake. SO MAYBE we won't wake up on March 29th to 15 inches of snow. But then again by Tuesday it's suppose to be 62 so maybe we will. Either way this has been an unbelievably mild winter in these parts. Maybe the mildest I can ever remember.

Today...well yesterday now, my state turned 145 years old. I was born in Nebraska, lived all of my life sans 4 years in Nebraska, I suspect I'll die in Nebraska and I know i'll be buried in Nebraska. In fact i think the plot's already there though I'll have to ask about that to be sure. And though i don't agree with the states politics much I love living in Nebraska. Still I never fail to marvel at the constant identity crises this state continues to create for itself and fight at the same time. Nebraskans hate and I mean HATE being labeled hicks yet they've made Larry The Cable Guy The State Symbol. The Largest newspaper in the state, which serves a metropolitan area of 900,000 people gives large spaces in the news and sports sections to a joke teller whose work is about on par with Peggy Hill's musings column in the Arlan Bystander but hey he used to be a joke writer for Jay Leno and he lives in Omaha. His jokes are painfully not funny and it just makes the paper look poor. It's the kind of crap you would expect to find in the York News-Times and not a paper that boasts having "the second-highest percentage of people within a home circulation area compared with other major metropolitan newspapers in the United States" But it's not out a character with either Omaha or Nebraska. This state, and this city in particular loves to hire people whose abilities barely qualify them to do political forums on Monroe Louisiana public access and give them 65 different jobs in the media.

Case in point. Travis Justice. Sportscaster, talks show host on radio, host of late night groovy movie, high school mascot, announcer for Creighton and finally political commentator. And guess what? Travis sucked at EVERYTHING he did. OK maybe did OK hosting late night groovy movie theater but that was it. Today the only job he's got is calling (very poorly) Creighton games. The New Travis Justice is Mike'l (yes that's how his name is spelled) Severe. Severe was a reporter on the morning news, wearing heavy coats on 75 degree mornings, a moderator on a political show where he played a Black Alan Colmes, a sports radio talk show host, a color analyst for Nighthawks games (he never played football) and get this a food critic for the Omaha World Herald. That's right somebody who's "expertize" talking about a sport he never played is the food critic for the largest newspaper in the state. I've never read his work as a food critic though maybe he's finally found a job he's good at. Let's see what the people are saying...

"So this is the new OWH format.  100 monkeys with 100 typewriters.  I guess eventually we will get a decent review.  Not that it even matters.  The Herald has decided that restaurants in Omaha are a joke and don't need any coverage.  This GARBAGE of unqualified jerk offs writing in some meaningless column that the paper can't even fake to care about is intolerably insulting.  STOP READING THE PAPER.  STOP BUYING IT.  STOP ADVERTISING IN IT.  It is obvious to everyone with a brain that the The World Herald is insufferably ill equipped to find writers let alone editors that any more interested in the subject than the readers become disinterested in reading it.  Ugh. What a waste."

Guess not. But welcome to Omaha, Nebraska where we have no clue what is we want to be we just so long as make sure that we suck at being it.

As I write this it is currently 35 degrees outside which is about as cold as it's going to get. A far cry from March 1st 2007. My Father's wish was to have Lara's theme played at his funeral a request my Mother always balked at because "you'll die in the spring and the snow reference will make no sense" Well on the day of his visitation was on a Wednesday and we were suppose to get a Blizzard. It never came. The weathermen said the snow missed us and we dodged a bullet. On Friday morning his funeral the snow came in and it snowed, and snowed and snowed and snowed. He damn well made sure Lara's theme was going to fit. I remember the nearly indescribable feeling I had at his passing, like I was wondering through a dream that I had no control over, everything around me just being a haze. That feeling I guess is what is keeping me from being too vitriolic about the Death of Andrew Breitbart.

I have nothing good to say about the man at all but the feeling a family must have to lose their Husband, Father, friend, suddenly at that young of an age must be awful. I know how I felt losing a Father 25 years older and having seen him cease to be the person he was.
When I lost my Father he was in a state where he wasn't living any more. I had begun to pray for a quick and speedy end. I didn't want to see my Father linger any longer in the form he was in. The last thing I said to him was "Thank You" To this day I have not fully come to terms with no longer wanting my Father to linger in what was his present earthly state. I still feel a quilt for praying for a merciful end to my Fathers life. As hard as it was I had 3 months to ready myself and come to terms with the passing of My Father Andrew Breitbart's children and wife never got that time and that is truly a tragedy. Nothing else about his death, to me at least qualifies or even comes close.

I close with this for my Father...

Count Istvan

No comments:

Total Pageviews