#1115 Yoga Bomber

Every now and then, I get blindsided by something that defies expectations.
Here are three examples.
First, the other day I was listening to a radio station from Seattle. On it was a presumably professional newsperson, as the main announcer said, “and here’s the news with so-and-so.”
The so-and-so in question then proceeded to tell a news story, in the course of which she used the term “nuke-ya-lar.” That’s right, a professional newsperson mispronounced the word nuclear as nuke-ya-lar, just as badly as our ex-president.
The newsperson sounded like she was a 20-something, so it’s possible her formative news listening years were during the Bush administration, but still. One of the things they used to teach you in newscasting classes was eliminating your regional accents.
While Bush may have been able to claim that nuke-ya-lar was a Texas colloquialism this gal could not.
Second, the story she was actually reporting on was an expectation violator as well. At the time, Iran had just agreed to ship all the enriched nuclear fuel resulting from its new reactors to, of all places, Russia. And the world appeared to see this as a breakthrough. And further, that the world community saw this as a good thing.
I, of course, thought about how much the world as changed since the cold war. For anybody to be happy about anyone giving Russia enriched bomb-makeable nuclear material shows we have come along way down the path of either peace or total nuclear annihilation.
And it’s not even like Putin is putin’ us on. He’s more belligerent than ever.
The third example, speaking of peace, is the meditation class at my club. Seems they meet upstairs every Tuesday and Thursday morning from 10:30 to 11:30. Our racquetball court down below has been closed during that time. They’re worried the ball will come over the open balcony and disrupt the meditation.
When did meditators get to be such wussies? Isn’t this the art that teaches people how to walk over hot coals? You’d think they could handle an occasional surprise ball in their laps. Test their concentration for gosh sake.
It’s not like a nuke-ya–lar bomb.
America, ya gotta love it.