My Torrid Affair With Irene

In this instant, exaggerating world we live in, everything is magnified and blown out of perspective.
Many airplane phobias grow out of the media's spectacular coverage of an airline crash with pictures and graphic descriptions of maimed bodies and terrible destruction.
Stories are repeated over and over to satisfy the hungry, peeping Tom public and fill the newspapers, TVs, computers and radio.
Eddie Murphy once mimicked the assassination attempt of Presidaent Reagan by doing a comic rendition of, "Buckweat has been shot!" He repeated it in various angles, slow motion and normal. It was hysterical burlesque in that it demonstrated the media's handling of current events.
Weather reporting becomes more than just a prediction of what may be. There are graphs and radar and beautiful models and handsome men reporting it. They have Geraldo Rivera standing in a hurricane, his hair blowing in the wind. Cars chasing tornadoes and volcano's and tsunamis and plain old thunder storms.
People rush to buy food and batteries and snow shovels. The mayors and governors use the emergencies to enhance their political presence.
And we all wait in anticipation of the titillating diversion from our daily routines.
The news and weather have become an entertaining medium and an opportunity to advertise products. It is also an opportunity for the various experts to show how erudite they are. I have always been fascinated by the expression, "There will be a thirty five per cent chance of rain" What does that mean? Does it mean there will be a sixty five percent chance it will not rain? That's like saying it will be a nice day if it does not rain.
I wrote the following as an observation of this phenomenon and its impact on our modern day lives.
So here's my response. Hope you find it amusing.
My Torrid Affair With Irene
I can't say I was not warned... "Beware of this one! she is dangerous! She will blow into your life and leave you rung out and in the dark. But she will also bring you danger and exotic excitement."
"Baloney", I thought. She will be an exaggeration like the rest
So I waited with anticipation... nervously looking out the window awaiting her arrival.
Wow! She poured out her heart and her soul and sang with the wind. And indeed I was apprehensive as the darkness enfolded me. The TV was no longer pertinent nor was my trusty computer. Just Irene and me.. It was truly sensual and thrilling.
And then she was gone on her frivolous way. To D' electrify others. To tear into their lives and leave them as she left me..alone and battered...
"Good night Irene... Good night Irene... I'll see you in my dreams... ".

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