The Really Ugly American Returns

I'm baaaack. It is good to be home, back in the U.S.A., where I don't have to worry about crossing the street without being hit by a runaway rickshaw. True, I do have to worry about being mugged on the sidewalk, but once I'm in the middle of the highway, my worries are behind me...til I get to the other side, anyway.
I'm having a problem with jet lag, so I'm just now waking up enough to write this. Plus, I came back with some sort of a cold. My co-workers have assured me that it's probably just a mild case of bird flue. There was this woman sitting in the back of the plane on the flight home who hacked and coughed and wheezed the entire 14 hours. I would have suggested she cover her mouth, but I don't know any Viet Namese. One thing I did notice in China, is that the people don't seem to mind spitting, sneezing, coughing, and whatever with no regard to where their bodily fluids may fly. Anyway, now I'm hacking and coughing. But, at least I'm covering my mouth.
I had to go get my blood pressure checked this morning...not that I'm not a picture of perfect health, but I'm in some sort of national research thing, testing a cholesterol medicine...or else I'm gagging on a huge placebo every day; I'm not sure which. My blood pressure was a little high, and the lady there asked me if I'd put on any weight while I was in China. I don't think so. Dodging automobiles is good exercise.
I do think I know why my pressure is high though. I'm watching the local TV news again. I'd forgotten how bad it is. At least when all the programming is in Chinese, you can't tell how inane it is, unless, of course, you speak Chinese.
Is it just me, or did Gene Cox have a frontal lobotomy while I was gone? Probably just me. I watched him last night, and he breathlessly (I think it's his age, not his excitement level) said, "We're following a breaking story out of Detroit. Rosa Parks has died." Now, Rosa Parks died yesterday afternoon, but at 11:00 last night it was a "breaking story." And, just how do you follow this story? She's not going to do much of anything else at this point. She's dead. I'm sorry she's dead, but pretty much that's a done deal. Gene said he'd keep us updated. I'll have to call him this afternoon and see if she's still dead.
And, then on channel eight, the brainiac newscaster used that line this morning that drives me straight up a wall, and probably elevates my blood pressure. The news anchor said that the police had caught a guy who beat up a Chesterfield man and his dog. But, he put it this way, "You'll never guess where police captured the assailant...." First of all, why would I try to guess. It's not some sort of a game. And, since I imagine he (he, being the newscaster) will tell us right after a commercial break, I don't really need to guess. And, thirdly, if you're keeping count here, it's not like they caught the guy on the moon, or hidden in some cave in Morocco. They caught him in New Jersey. Whoop De Doo!
I guess I never would guess, because the answer is too boring. That "you'll never guess" thing is so stupid. It's the very thing that causes my blood presssure to go up. If I have a stroke, I'm suing Gene Cox and that guy at WRIC.
The results of this medicine/placebo test, of which I'm an integral part (one of about 3,000 testees), could be skewed by my blood pressure being artifically elevated by TV newscasters. This test continues until several hundred of us die. I guess they figure the people being tested are in such poor health, that they'll have no trouble with enough of us buying the farm within the next few years. But, if I die, I want it be because of what I'm eating, not because of watching the news. That would be a really bland way to go.
How did your husband die, Mrs. Cook?
Oh, it was an overdose of Gene Cox.
You see what I mean. That would truly be a senseless death.
But, keep an eye out for me. If you see my name in the obituary, please let Gene Cox know he's partly responsbible.