Live at 10!
Under normal circumstances I won't have anything to do with Fox News. But these, you'll have to admit, are pretty extraordinary circumstances.
Let us back up. Rewind to yesterday about sundown, say 8 or so at night. That magical hour of the evening known as the witching hour. I am in my room eating dinner, a light meal of tuna pasta and diet coke, when I hear an explosion out side my house. And not the regular exploding noise of the metal back door of the restaurant behind me being slammed to the ground. Oh no, this was bigger and much much closer. So like any person hearing a giant potentially dangerous noise, I had to get closer so as to investigate the scene. I went to the back window opened it and poked my head outside. And a few seconds later a giant pyrotechnic bomb went off maybe 20 feet from my face.
"Cool!" I thought to myself, "someone has scored some seriously illegal fireworks." I shut the window and settled in to watch a bit of the show. At first, I was impressed, because well... big scary fireworks tend to be very impressive. Nor were we the only neighborhood to have such a display. As I looked out the window it was clear this type of unlawful behavior was happening all over South Philly. On the same token however, I couldn't totally feel at ease with giant flames continuing to drift nearer and nearer towards my fire-trap dwelling, especially as the fireworks seemed to only grow in size and perceived level of danger to those in the surrounding area as time passed. It would seem Johnny McSingedm'self and his pals Dan Toastyhand and Pete Kidsburntup had amassed a veritable Disneyland of 4th of July treats. This was the real, licensed pyrotechnicians only, kind of deal going on in my back alley. And soon I realized the whole "nearly launching a missile-like object into my house" thing was not a one time fluke.
In fact, the relatively large crowd gathered to watch the display seemed to enjoy more the "mistake" set offs than the real ones. The twenty or so people, about half of whom were little kids, got a big kick out of seeing a real live firework go off within mere feet of themselves. The applause for a ground level release always seemed to be a bigger response than those for an airborne one... So much so that it almost appeared, at least to this untrained eye, that the "accidents" were beginning to outweigh the successes.
Granted I'm a person who gets nervous leaving a candle burning in my room while I go take a shower. I don't like unguided fire. I think burning to death and/or smoke inhalation would be one of the worst ways to go. Good thing I didn't live in Puritanical times, I'd so have been burned as a witch. Suffice to say, I get nervous when people who I don't place high on the Darwinian "I've got the survival instinct to make it" scale handle things that could set me or my home ablaze. So maybe I'm the wrong person to talk to. But when a firework launched directly into the crowd of people and the small children scattered in blood curdling screams, I found it a little disturbing. I toyed with calling the police but figured it wasn't my place. If you want to ignite your offspring, well, maybe those genes shouldn't be passed on. But, whether or not I felt like it was my place to spoil the "festivities" of the block, I didn't want to upset myself any more by watching a hand or face get burned. So I just went in the other room. I watched a movie, cleaned my room a bit, read for a while and at some point went into the kitchen to get a glass of water.
I saw the flickering first. Not the pretty colored kind that appears for an instant in purple, green or magenta but the orangey, dull lapping kind that one tends to see from a campfire or a log in the old chimney. I was sort of puzzled really... I could see no source for the light to be coming from, at which point I realized that it was probably from the ground below where the guys had been lighting things on fire.
It was then I heard the gas tank explode.
I didn't see it for myself. No, though live action reporters may have prompted me to say otherwise, I wasn't watching directly when it happened. But it was loud. I went over to the window and saw a van in the lot behind my house, ablaze. I guess one of the "accidents" really caused an accident. Sadly, the van didn't even belong to the stupid people who obviously caused the whole incident. They all ran for cover as soon as they realized they'd fucked up big time. The police and fire department followed quickly. The fire was soon out and this morning I was treated to a lovely view of a very burnt back end of a car. But you know, these things happen. At least in my neighborhood they do. So I went to work, did some errands, and made my way back home like any other day.
As I approached my house I saw the prettiest man I've ever seen outside my door. And when I say pretty I don't mean attractive. He wasn't attractive, he was too soft, too shiny for that. His hair was coiffed and stayed perfectly in place despite the slight rain and occasional gusts of wind that would pass. His perfectly pressed light blue shirt and satin tie were almost hypnotic, only slightly less so than his twinkly eyelined eyes. He spoke in a soft soothing voice and introduced himself, Chip or John or Walt, some monosyllabic strong American name. Chip/Walt/John was with "The News" and wanted to know if he could ask me a few questions.
"Uh, I guess so. About what exactly?"
Walt or Chip or John explained that several men had been arrested and charged with 4 felonies in conjunction with the car explosion from the previous night. His already bright eyes became almost iridescent when I admitted I'd seen some of the events. He looked ready to weep as I related the plight of the poor children involved, looked inquiringly as I explained my concern about my own home potentially being under threat, and winked knowingly when I said it was probably not up to fire code.
Chip and/or Walt and/or John and his camera man went up into my apartment to see the lot from behind and then made their way down to street level and asked me to follow them. They then made the Asian owner of the restaurant open the gate to his burned van several times in a row, directing him to look a little sadder and do so a little slower as they zoomed in. Then they got a shot of a police car that randomly happened to pass by. They took extensive footage of the burned vehicle itself and then it was my time to stand in the spotlight. My starry eyed guy then asked me to answer his questions just as I had before.
"Oh and, can you start with the line, 'It was totally nuts out here' please."
"Ok, I don't think I said that though."
"Can you start with it anyway?"
"Sure, John/Walt/Chip, [thrusts microphone with Fox insignia in front of me and points at me to go] It was, uh, totally... nuts out here."
I didn't know if he wanted me to look at him, given that he was staring me down rather intently and holding the mic in my face or look directly at the camera and plead with the masses to learn the plight of the fire safety impaired. I sort of vaulted back and forth between the two, although I also spent a lot of time looking at neither, gesturing to things in retrospect I realize the TV audience won't be able to see. Not to mention I was thrown off by the fact that it was Fox News. They hadn't previously identified themselves and I had assumed they were a real news station. But once I had started talking on camera it was a little late to stop and say, "Hey wait, your corporation is evil. No car fire info for you!!"
The interview followed pretty much as before with some leading questions like, "And why were you concerned for your safety?" and "Can you tell me more about the children?" I knew what he wanted me to say, and yeah I'm a sellout, I pretty much described it as he wanted me to. It was, after all, true and who am I to stand in the way of some old fashioned American sensationalism? In any event, like most bewildered non-camera ready bystanders I will go down in action news history as looking slightly deranged. You can watch at 10 tonight on Fox. My TV persona will let you know exactly how it all happened.
Let us back up. Rewind to yesterday about sundown, say 8 or so at night. That magical hour of the evening known as the witching hour. I am in my room eating dinner, a light meal of tuna pasta and diet coke, when I hear an explosion out side my house. And not the regular exploding noise of the metal back door of the restaurant behind me being slammed to the ground. Oh no, this was bigger and much much closer. So like any person hearing a giant potentially dangerous noise, I had to get closer so as to investigate the scene. I went to the back window opened it and poked my head outside. And a few seconds later a giant pyrotechnic bomb went off maybe 20 feet from my face.
"Cool!" I thought to myself, "someone has scored some seriously illegal fireworks." I shut the window and settled in to watch a bit of the show. At first, I was impressed, because well... big scary fireworks tend to be very impressive. Nor were we the only neighborhood to have such a display. As I looked out the window it was clear this type of unlawful behavior was happening all over South Philly. On the same token however, I couldn't totally feel at ease with giant flames continuing to drift nearer and nearer towards my fire-trap dwelling, especially as the fireworks seemed to only grow in size and perceived level of danger to those in the surrounding area as time passed. It would seem Johnny McSingedm'self and his pals Dan Toastyhand and Pete Kidsburntup had amassed a veritable Disneyland of 4th of July treats. This was the real, licensed pyrotechnicians only, kind of deal going on in my back alley. And soon I realized the whole "nearly launching a missile-like object into my house" thing was not a one time fluke.
In fact, the relatively large crowd gathered to watch the display seemed to enjoy more the "mistake" set offs than the real ones. The twenty or so people, about half of whom were little kids, got a big kick out of seeing a real live firework go off within mere feet of themselves. The applause for a ground level release always seemed to be a bigger response than those for an airborne one... So much so that it almost appeared, at least to this untrained eye, that the "accidents" were beginning to outweigh the successes.
Granted I'm a person who gets nervous leaving a candle burning in my room while I go take a shower. I don't like unguided fire. I think burning to death and/or smoke inhalation would be one of the worst ways to go. Good thing I didn't live in Puritanical times, I'd so have been burned as a witch. Suffice to say, I get nervous when people who I don't place high on the Darwinian "I've got the survival instinct to make it" scale handle things that could set me or my home ablaze. So maybe I'm the wrong person to talk to. But when a firework launched directly into the crowd of people and the small children scattered in blood curdling screams, I found it a little disturbing. I toyed with calling the police but figured it wasn't my place. If you want to ignite your offspring, well, maybe those genes shouldn't be passed on. But, whether or not I felt like it was my place to spoil the "festivities" of the block, I didn't want to upset myself any more by watching a hand or face get burned. So I just went in the other room. I watched a movie, cleaned my room a bit, read for a while and at some point went into the kitchen to get a glass of water.
I saw the flickering first. Not the pretty colored kind that appears for an instant in purple, green or magenta but the orangey, dull lapping kind that one tends to see from a campfire or a log in the old chimney. I was sort of puzzled really... I could see no source for the light to be coming from, at which point I realized that it was probably from the ground below where the guys had been lighting things on fire.
It was then I heard the gas tank explode.
I didn't see it for myself. No, though live action reporters may have prompted me to say otherwise, I wasn't watching directly when it happened. But it was loud. I went over to the window and saw a van in the lot behind my house, ablaze. I guess one of the "accidents" really caused an accident. Sadly, the van didn't even belong to the stupid people who obviously caused the whole incident. They all ran for cover as soon as they realized they'd fucked up big time. The police and fire department followed quickly. The fire was soon out and this morning I was treated to a lovely view of a very burnt back end of a car. But you know, these things happen. At least in my neighborhood they do. So I went to work, did some errands, and made my way back home like any other day.
As I approached my house I saw the prettiest man I've ever seen outside my door. And when I say pretty I don't mean attractive. He wasn't attractive, he was too soft, too shiny for that. His hair was coiffed and stayed perfectly in place despite the slight rain and occasional gusts of wind that would pass. His perfectly pressed light blue shirt and satin tie were almost hypnotic, only slightly less so than his twinkly eyelined eyes. He spoke in a soft soothing voice and introduced himself, Chip or John or Walt, some monosyllabic strong American name. Chip/Walt/John was with "The News" and wanted to know if he could ask me a few questions.
"Uh, I guess so. About what exactly?"
Walt or Chip or John explained that several men had been arrested and charged with 4 felonies in conjunction with the car explosion from the previous night. His already bright eyes became almost iridescent when I admitted I'd seen some of the events. He looked ready to weep as I related the plight of the poor children involved, looked inquiringly as I explained my concern about my own home potentially being under threat, and winked knowingly when I said it was probably not up to fire code.
Chip and/or Walt and/or John and his camera man went up into my apartment to see the lot from behind and then made their way down to street level and asked me to follow them. They then made the Asian owner of the restaurant open the gate to his burned van several times in a row, directing him to look a little sadder and do so a little slower as they zoomed in. Then they got a shot of a police car that randomly happened to pass by. They took extensive footage of the burned vehicle itself and then it was my time to stand in the spotlight. My starry eyed guy then asked me to answer his questions just as I had before.
"Oh and, can you start with the line, 'It was totally nuts out here' please."
"Ok, I don't think I said that though."
"Can you start with it anyway?"
"Sure, John/Walt/Chip, [thrusts microphone with Fox insignia in front of me and points at me to go] It was, uh, totally... nuts out here."
I didn't know if he wanted me to look at him, given that he was staring me down rather intently and holding the mic in my face or look directly at the camera and plead with the masses to learn the plight of the fire safety impaired. I sort of vaulted back and forth between the two, although I also spent a lot of time looking at neither, gesturing to things in retrospect I realize the TV audience won't be able to see. Not to mention I was thrown off by the fact that it was Fox News. They hadn't previously identified themselves and I had assumed they were a real news station. But once I had started talking on camera it was a little late to stop and say, "Hey wait, your corporation is evil. No car fire info for you!!"
The interview followed pretty much as before with some leading questions like, "And why were you concerned for your safety?" and "Can you tell me more about the children?" I knew what he wanted me to say, and yeah I'm a sellout, I pretty much described it as he wanted me to. It was, after all, true and who am I to stand in the way of some old fashioned American sensationalism? In any event, like most bewildered non-camera ready bystanders I will go down in action news history as looking slightly deranged. You can watch at 10 tonight on Fox. My TV persona will let you know exactly how it all happened.
posted by A at 8:02 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home