(photo: The Today show's "surburban correspondent" would uncover controversial slices of suburbia like this nail-biter of a pinata bashing somewhere in middle America)
In its search for a surburban correspondent, the Today show is asking suburbanites to submit a videotape detailing the "dish" going down in their neighborhoods -- be it the poignancy of a lawn tractor or a couple of soccer moms kicking the crap out of each other. Since it's unlikely neighbors will willingly air their dirty laundry on national television to satisfy somone else's narcissistic aspirations, this endeavor is the equivalent of upskirting your cul-de-sac with a camera phone. The suburban dweller chosen as the Today show correspondent will likely be exiled from the community by an angry mob of neighbors wielding pitch forks and flaming bags of dog poo.
Personally, I'd enjoy a fly-on-the-wall peek into some of the quietly-twisted neighborhoods out there, ones like Lisa K's whose residents include a relentless trash picker and cat leasher, as well some aberrant casserole enthusiasts under age 30.
In my neighborhood, it's unlikely I'd find any clandestine key parties or dog brothels. We do have Lou and Nancy who go out EVERY SINGLE NIGHT but that's about it. I've come to the realization that if someone in our neighborhood tries out for this Today show gig, my family will be central casting. Our neighbors who live a few doors down passed our house in their green SUV three times today, growing more perplexed with each drive by. The first time, Caroline and I were doing jumping jacks on the front lawn, warming up for extreme, high-impact Ring around the Rosie. The second time they drove by, Caroline was wailing and pointing at the mailman's truck. She'd mistaken him for the ice cream man and had come up empty after requesting a Hoodsie. The third time, I was walking back and forth across the electric fence boundary with Vito's PetSafe collar in my hand. I wanted to make sure James hadn't cranked it up unnecessarily. James, in turn, asked me if I was auditioning for Jackass. The neighbors pretended not to see us.
7 comments:
admitting defeat. i cannot add anything to what SB's already outlined. well...other than hoodsie cups are the greatest and well worth crying over.
smoking is looking pretty good right now
So much to say here. First off...I think we WILL start up Jacksonass...SB. Henceforth, any stupidity that occurs will be registeredo on the blog as "Jacksonass." Could be an hourly occurrence.
Second, wmd..I agree that hoodsies are to be wept over and you'll be happy to know I drove to the store and bought a whole pack of 'em (one has your name on it).
Third, JAL. Yes, yes and yes. Let's shoot for 9/2.
hopefully you'll forgive me if i jam a fork in the bottom, peel the sides and eat it like a banana. I've found that's the fastest way.
wmd-I look forward to witnessing that. I hope it lives up to the vision I just had.
i eat a sleeve of fig newtons like a woodchipper.*
*brian regan
My not-so-suburban cul de sac includes three caged children who are released out to their filthy cement pen of a yard (which my bedroom window overlooks) at 6:45 a.m. to whine, scream and abuse one another until their WT parents or grandparents emerge grumpily from the sweaty double-deckah they inhabit to bark out obscenities to one another. My other neighbor was once the Embassador to the Vatican.
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