Hungry For Overkill
I don't have much time to watch television. Being the lazy
person that I am, I usually let other people in the family do my
watching for me.
But some events are just so important that I have to watch them
myself. Such was the case with the finals of this year's
American Idol. The space shuttle Columbia crash in Texas earlier
in the year was another event that (sadly) I just had to watch.
And I certainly did not want to miss the thrill of seeing the
America's Cup sail into Switzerland.
Of course, I regularly turn on the tube whenever a George Bush
invades Iraq. Hopefully, this one will soon finish invading; my
electricity bill is suffering.
The latest must-see event is the Michael Jackson arrest, an
event of such momentous importance that all news shows, gossip
shows, comedy shows and just about everybody else is offering
wall-to-wall coverage. It has been estimated that 37% of the
American population has been interviewed by the media for their
inside-knowledge of "the pop superstar's" personal life.
So I was most shocked when I flipped to a channel that was not
helping me track down the most fascinating intimate details and
most intriguing and succulent minutiae of all things Michael
"What?!" I demanded. "This is impossible. What is this trash?"
"That's Touched by an Angel," my wife offered. "It's one of your
"That's no excuse," I blustered. "The network should be hot on
the Jackson case. How could this be? I'm calling the cable
company to complain."
"But dear ..." my wife tried to interrupt.
"It's no use," I insisted as I dialed. "My mind is made up.
Don't try to stop me."
"But dear ..." my wife tried to interrupt me again.
"I am sorry. There is simply no excuse for airing pure
entertainment when there are important details about Michael
Jackson to be uncovered."
"But dear ..." my wife tried once more.
"Hello? Cable Company? I want to lodge a most serious complaint."
"But we don't get cable out here," my wife broke in. "We have
"Look. There are some 395 channels, and at least 70% of them are
airing Michael Jackson stories. Don't you think that's at least,
oh, let's say, 70% overkill?" my wife asked.
"You don't understand. This is important. The whole world is
watching. This man has changed the face of music."
"Yes, that's what some of his celebrity colleagues are saying",
my wife rolled her eyes. "As if people who change the face of
music have all been vaccinated against child-molesting."
"That's not the point. There are so many details to uncover. We
know he likes Kentucky Fried Chicken, but does he eat quiche?
Everybody knows that real men don't eat quiche. Could that be
"Let it go, Happy Guy," my wife advised. "It just doesn't pay to
get so caught up in all the TV drama. Besides, this is a serious
investigation with a serious charge and it should be left to the
I sank down into the couch. My wife was finally starting to make
sense. "What are you going to do now?" she asked.
"I think I'll watch Touched by an Angel."
"Ah, that's the husband I know and love."
"Right now Michael Jackson could use an angel, and so could all
those kids. I mean, what can one little district attorney do?" I
My wife moaned, too. I was amazed that she would suddenly show
"I know," I said, lighting up. "Never mind the cable company.
I'll call Tess. She can set Michael Jackson straight."