I’m John, and I can’t see you

Katie Couric is good at what she does. As far as I know, it’s as true today as it was six months ago. What’s more, I’ve always liked Katie Couric (even though I don’t watch much weekday morning TV). I say this up front because this entry is yet another example of me being hyper-critical, which is somewhat ironic given my many flaws. Although, isn’t always the worst offenders that are the biggest critics? I say this over and over in these entries, so tonight I’m going to add one more flaw to the list: disingenuous apologist.

Back to Katie. I hear she had a big debut this evening. I’m not a fan of the Network News genre of “newstainment,” so I don’t know this because I was actually watching. No, you have my wife to thank (blame) for this entry. Cheryl had a number of good things to say about the broadcast, but I wasn’t paying attention to any of them, save one: the first one. I was thrust headlong into a state I like to refer to as: “the blank stare of deep thought.” Irony strikes again… the first thing Cheryl had to say about the broadcast was the last thing Katie had to say. Apparently she signed off by saying, “I’m Katie Couric and I hope to see you again tomorrow.”

Cheryl thought it was nice and personal. Not having seen it, I thought it sounded a little too pleading… like she was afraid that after tonight no one would come back. In a way I guess even that is kind of sweet; a refreshing departure from News Anchors with high opinions of themselves. As my blank stare of deep thought persisted (and Cheryl’s voice was a barely heard background mumble wafting through the mists of oblivion) I wondered why I was the only one in the house that knew that our television is not a two-way video conferencing device. If Katie couldn’t see us tonight, how is she going to see us again? Doesn’t “again” suggest a recurrence, a repeat of a previous event? The only people she saw tonight was the production crew at CBS. Baring an extraordinarily bad case of poor judgement by the head’s of the network honchos, it’s a pretty sure bet she’s going to see them again.

As Cheryl was finishing up (unknowingly) talking to herself, a final thought came to me which brought me out of my altered state of consciousness: I wouldn’t have done better. I shared all of this with my wife and she gave me something I like to call “the spousal stare of contempt.”

There’s a somewhat obvious lesson in all of this: never voluntarily admit to your wife that you weren’t listening to her.

Give the gift of words.