Hokum

The Show got beat in TV ratings earlier this month by the Olympics — a stunner, considering it has led the ratings since, oh, the Clinton administration. And with Dick Dastardly stepping away at the end of the season, it’s easy to assume that the Juggernaut Days of The Show are coming to an end.

It was against that backdrop that I settled in this week to watch the beginning of the real competition — the point where anyone can pick up The Show, forget about the past episodes of the season and watch as the Darwinian antics kick in. And I’ve got to tell you: I want those two nights of my life back.

Twenty-four people went out and gave about 20 forgettable performances, heavy on self-indulgence and painfully short on the Wow Factor. We certainly learned that the survivors love the Beatles (a shocker, that), and that they are indeed very very very very sensitive people. A harmonica appeared and was sawed upon — have these people learned nothing from his downward spiral after the Harp Incident of 2008? — and a few other folks strummed guitars badly. You could immediately recognize the people who have spent a lot of time on stage and those who have not, and some of those unaccustomed to the spotlight are already en route back to the deep fryer station.

But overall, it was surprisingly bad television. Nobody made me say, “Holy crap!” Nobody even really made me say, “Hmm,” except perhaps her, and that was mostly for being a near-perfect generic representation of the Modern Pop Diva, with lots of obvious talent and very little originality.

And the guys? Wow, that was bad. Tens of thousands of applicants and these were the best? It might be a very long season.

The tree service finished its work Friday, feeding hundreds of branches into a wood chipper. The snow in the yard is now below my knees and, with a couple of sunny days in the 40s coming up, I might see a few bare spots by Sunday evening. The bent-over evergreens have miraculously sprung back up after being contorted (and in some cases snapping off) in ways I had never seen before. The truck has been dug out and the big limb that had helped entomb it has been chainsawed away. Big front-end loaders came through the neighborhood the other day and cleared away the giant piles of snow at the corners that had blocked visibility and created a traffic hazard. Unfortunately, for people whose houses are on a corner (like me), this snow was unceremoneously dumped into their yards by the ton (see the nighttime visit I got, at left).

And Snowmageddon passes. I have a big evergreen bush out front that is probably doomed, and the tree work cost some serious change (but far less than I feared), and I may have to replace some front gutters that needed to go anyway, but that’s about it. There’s a fresh storm coming Monday but it is of the classic late February variety: A little snow, a little sleet, a little rain, not much accumulation. The average high for this time of year is 48 degrees and it will soon move into the 50s; snow doesn’t stand much of a chance against that.

Ten days ago, I thought I might lose a dozen trees and be $20K out of pocket for repairs. Actually, I feared that a random hardwood limb or the unprecedented amount of wet, heavy snow would simply collapse the roof of my house. Instead, what I got was some serious pruning. There are a couple of trees that are leaning at steeper angles than I remember, but that’s it.

I also got some serious memories. When the heaviest snowstorm of my life is followed four days later by the most intense blizzard of my life, that’s a lottery-odds combination that hopefully won’t be repeated. I never want to shovel my roof again, or kennel my dog for his own safety, or climb into waterproof pants so I can trudge around the yard and dig out the downspouts, or have my vehicles serve as targets for dart-like tree limbs. I’ve had quite enough of that, thank you.

The tree service came today and cleaned out my broken evergreen branches. However, it’s too dangerous to haul a wood chipper in yet, so that part of the job will have to wait. Here are the results:

Today I finally dug out the pickup truck and got rid of the huge post-Snowmageddon limb that was leaning against it. The tool I used for the latter task was a Black and Decker Alligator Lopper. Imagine a big lopper with a chainsaw replacing one tine and you get a picture of what this can do. You won’t take down any substantial trees with this thing but it will absolutely chew up big branches — and it will do it in a vastly more safe manner than a chainsaw.

I’ve used a lot of power tools over the years but I’ve never liked using a chainsaw. They are inherently dangerous and there is really no way to make them safe — especially gas-powered chainsaws, which are heavy and clumsy. The first time you experience chainsaw kickback, you’ll ask yourself why this thing is in your hands.  But the lopper takes most of the danger out of chainsaw use — and it doesn’t really throw wood chips and has multiple safety features. I highly recommend it.

The Who’s performance at the Super Bowl got me to thinking about great, powerful rock ‘n’ roll lyric lines. “Won’t Get Fooled Again” has a line so fabulous that it gets a verse all to itself: “Meet the new boss, same as the old boss.”  Some other great lines that pop into my head:

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I was born in a crossfire hurricane.
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I walked 47 miles of barbed wire.
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Whose barn? What barn? My barn!
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But if you go carryin’ pictures of Chairman Mao/You ain’t gonna make it with anyone, anyhow.
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Got a wife and kids in Baltimore, Jack/I went out for a ride and I never went back.
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I’ve been a miner for a heart of gold.
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Another industrial ugly morning.
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Sometimes I feel like I’ve been tied to the whippin’ post.
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A drunkard’s dream if I ever did see one.
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Here we are now. Entertain us.
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You can check out any time you like/But you can never leave.
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You feelin’ all right? I’m not feelin’ too good myself.
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If you disrespect anybody that you run into/How in the world do you think anybody’s s’posed to respect you?
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People are strange when you’re a stranger.
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Ain’t too proud to beg, sweet darlin’
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And finally: Excuse me while I kiss the sky.