You know when you have a really bad cut or scar and you can't stop staring at it, desptite the fact that it nauseates you? That's sort of what our tv selection has been like this morning. We just spent an hour of time, we will never get back (mind you), watching When Beaches Attack. It was entertaining. Apparently, I should never go on a beach vacation again, due to the potential sea lice infestation waiting to pepper my bathing suit area with embarassing spots, or the rip tide lurking just offshore.
The show was entertaining. From the man who talked about drowning in deadpan monotone, to the guy who described a jellyfish sting as a "jack-in-the-box which, instead of holding a fun little puppet, holds and surprises with a venom-filled harpoon." (I'm paraphrasing here) He actually mimed spinning the handle on the side of the jack-in-the-box and sang the song...doo, doo, doot, doo, doo, doo, doo, doot, doo, doot, doo, doot, doo, doot, doo, doo, doot. It was great.
My favorite part of the show, though, was the expert who was featured giving his opinion on every hazard. He was the voice of gloom and doom, mixed with a firm mastery of the obvious. He cracked me up. First, he was so boring. How can you take someone seriously when they are talking about how beach pollution can kill?
I found I spent the whole time imagining how little fun all these experts would be on a "beach vacation." Can you imagine the scene with their families? I can imagine being the wife..."OK hon, that is ENOUGH about the damn e coli! You're scaring the kids!!"