My Grandma Visits WKRN

Today, I spent the afternoon at WKRN, Channel 2. This was after I almost accidentally picked up a hooker and before I paid ten fucking dollars for four and a half gallons of gas. How is it possible, America, that we should invade and conquer an oil-rich nation and I'm paying $2.16 for a gallon of gas? Why the hell would we conquer an oil-rich nation under false pretenses if not to have some fucking cheap gas? Seriously, pragmatically, you want to see people suddenly be okay about the war in Iraq, start having $.97 gas and most of America will not give a shit about weapons of mass destruction. Karl Rove, you're supposed to be some evil genius. Get me some cheap gas. Anyway, so I'm at WKRN to learn all about how to be a better vernacular news gatherer. Here are the notes I took from the afternoon:

• The handicapped stall is the first one in the women's bathroom. What a genius idea! Why isn't it like that every place?
• "The liberating power of self-expression."
• Hmm... news as reflection of the community. Do I buy that?
• Don't underestimate ambient sound.
• Count to ten for each shot & it seems to give the eye a chance to comprehend it.
• Don't look with the camera.
• Keep the camera on your shot while you look for the next one.
• Remember that your eye sees things static, from scenario to scenario.

[These notes are even funnier when you realize that I don't own a camera. They are completely inapplicable to me and yet, I still took them. I am a giant nerd.]

• Thanks to WKRN, I have discovered that I look exactly like my grandma.
• Tim Morgan is a cutie.

Yes, let's spend a moment on these two. I was sitting there innocently trying to maintain my anonymity when, as they were discussing how to frame shots, they turned the camera towards all us Nashville bloggers and there was Brittney and Blake and Rex Hammock and all these folks and nestled in among them was my grandma D.

Yep, same big round features, same tendency to rest her hands on her boobs for no reason, same flighty way of holding her fingers out at the ends of her arms like little 4th of July sparklers waving in the evening breeze, same laugh same smile, same everything.

And it was me! Christ Jesus. I could not look any more like my grandma if I dressed only in her clothes.

How bad was it? How quickly am I becoming an 85 year old woman?

I spent the afternoon thinking--That Tim Morgan, he's so cute and delightfully funny. I think I'll set him up with one of my granddaughters.