12 August 2011
441
R. Linda:
Well, I be not sure if the Dragon's overlong stay made me have a nightmare or what, or maybe it was a combination of that and work. Not sure, but it was a strange dream I had and I thought to share it with me dream interpreter YOU.
So here it is.
Last night I dreamt I was sitting at a desk in a brightly lit studio. Me hands were folded in front of me and there were sheets of copy under them. I was clearing me throat to read them aloud, I do know that, but me focus was on me folded hands and the papers. There seemed to be some bustle around me but I was not fully aware of what, just busy people a red light somewhere to me right and another off on me left and bright lights over me and darkness in front.
It was not much later I realised I was in a telly studio about to give the news on the live broadcast. GULP! It was then me heart seemed to start pounding and I looked around and there were cameras aimed at yours truly. I looked to me right and there was a control booth and someone familiar was counting down, but I couldn't make her out. I took a double take to me left because I was anchoring the ABC Nightly News with DIANE SAWYER! NIGHTMARE, NIGHTMARE, NIGHTMARE!
"Tonight . . . we have joining us for the first time . . . Gabriel O'Sullivan. Welcome . . . Gabriel," Diane was saying as I snapped back from utter fright to hyper fright. I blinked at the camera and cleared me throat.
"Uhhh, nice to be here," I said trying to smile and not look too stupid doing it. Me smiling while frightened makes me look kinda dumb, and this I knew.
"Gabriel is from KNSD our ABC affiliate in Indiana . . ." Sawyer was saying and I was wondering how the hell I had got to Indiana and when? AND KNSD? Never heard of it. Sawyer smiled indulgently at me and continued, "With a story about a trio of suspicious juveniles in the Peterborough, New Hampshire area, Gabe . . ." She handed it off to me.
"Uhhh," I cleared me throat again, "Yes Diane, it was reported that three juveniles were walking along together in a Peterborough residential area when the police were notified."
"Oh my . . . what did the police find . . . Gabriel?"
"Uhhh," more throat clearing, "they found the subjects were walking to one of their residences. Seems the person who called the police didn't recognise the one chappy with his new haircut. Em . . . he got one after ten years of wearing it long and . . . loose." I said not sure if I should flash the sparkling white choppers or just look as serious as Diane was, looking at me.
"So . . . you are saying this lead-off story," she laughed ruefully, "was just a case of mistaken identity?" This asked with such incredulous I looked behind me for the writer but of course, he wasn't anywhere to be seen.
"Uhhh, I think so Diane," I said as chipper as I could and I did flash the choppers with a huge smile.
She blinked (probably from the stunning white teeth I was flashing) looked down at her notes (probably to get away from the glare), turned a page and tried again, yes she did.
"Well Gabe," she looked at me intently like don't mess this one up, "I see you have a report on a beating taking place in Wilton, New Hampshire . . . "
"Uhhh, I do Diane, it seems that law enforcement was called, actually the swat team, because the beating was loud, noisy, and severe AND the victim wasn't moving, they appeared to be dead."
"Wasn't moving . . . appeared to be dead," Diane gave those words a punch. "And who was the victim Gabe?"
"Uhhh . . . "I hesitated, then I just blurted it out, yes I did, "seems it was one John Deere."
Silence, she looked at me and I knew, yes I did, she was not happy. Then reluctantly she said, "John . . . Deere."
"Uhhh . . . yes it seems the lawn tractor stopped running with just a patch to go and the man operating it, got mad and starting beating on the tractor . . . with a hammer . . . and a chain saw." I smiled.
Nothing from Sawyer. She just looked at me. So before she could say anything I stumbled on.
"Uhhh, Mrs. Angela Cramer also of Wilton, New Hampshire had a bit of a scare Diane, it seems someone in a white car kept taking pictures of her house. So she called the police on them, and as they were in the area sent the swat team over to her house but they couldn't locate the driver or the white car." I smiled at her.
"Really?" She looked mad.
"Uhhh, did I mention Mrs. Cramer's house got the Cutest Little Cottage In Wilton Award? I think between you, me, and our viewers that was why her house was being photo . . ." I stopped in mid-sentence as Diane was looking down at her papers, but then her eyes were focused up on me, in such a way I knew to shut me gob.
But I couldn't do that. So upset was I to do this right I ran me gob again with this, "As the police left the scene . . ."
"There's more?" She asked incredulously.
"Uhhh . . . yes Diane, it seems they came upon a car pulled over to the side of the road. When they got out and asked the driver his business he told them he was merely being a good Do-Bee and using his cell phone by doing the proper thing, pulling over to the side of the road so as not to cause an accident." I smiled grandly at her, but she just looked at me like I was a moron.
"Well, going on with tonight's news," she said facing the camera, "it seems someone dialled 911 and hung up. This in Petersborough," She glanced at me maliciously and I knew where she was going with THAT story, but I didn't know how to stop her. "Last night the local police responded to a town residence and police found that a young child by the name of Guido O'Sullivan . . ." Here she paused to look at me, "had just learned to dial 911 and was playing with the phone. Police explained to the child and his FATHER that he should not practice on the phone if there was no real emergency." She finished looking smugly at me. "Any relation Gabriel?"
"Uhhh, no," I said too quickly. But we all know he IS. Oi!
"I know this next story will surprise our viewers," Sawyer said looking at the camera, with me still smarting over her Guido piece, I could not be outdone. "We have a story that is at once disturbing . . . but not without hope." She smiled at the camera.
Oh yeah we did, I got meself ready to take it from her and I did.
"Yes, Diane, it seems ABC News has discovered a plot," I said smartly. She looked a little taken aback but then that self-satisfied look came over her face that I was about to make an arse out of meself AGAIN, so she said, "A plot Gabe?"
"Yes, I single-handedly without the help of investigative journalist Brian Ross have uncovered a plot to shut down CBS Evening News with Scott Pelley!" There I got it out to Diane's taking an intake of breath, but she recovered nicely and said, "Really Gabe? Scott . . . Pelley?"
I had her I knew it, so on I went. "Yes Diane, it seems someone made several break-ins to Mr. Pelley's office to fill the CBS news content with sad pieces in order to make Mr. Pelley appear off the news mark, incapable of delivering a story with any enthusiasm, making him appear like a news undertaker of gloom and doom!" I said flourishing me finger in the air for emphasis.
"Really . . . tell us what more you know . . . Gabe." She said staring me down, daring me to do it.
"Well," I said looking directly into the camera, "we have never before seen footage of a woman dressed in black, much like yourself Diane, climbing up the outside of the CBS building and cutting a hole in the glass window of Mr. Pelley's office and entering with a sheaf of papers." The camera went to video and I narrated, "The woman is blond, in her sixties, but doesn't look it from a lot face work, and appears to be very agile for her age to climb up a 38-story building on a cable. As you see she is very nimble and even checks her makeup before she cuts that glass."
The camera left the video and came back to the desk with only me sitting there. I looked to my left and noticed Ms. Sawyer on the floor under her desk.
"Uhhh . . . the woman looks very much like a competing network anchor from an evening news station . . . uh . . ." I looked around, Sawyer was not moving from beneath the desk.
"I guess the viewer as well as I can see she looks like . . ." That was as far as I got before she popped up and said something about a lost contact lens.
"Diane Sawyer," I said with a huge smug smile as I looked directly at her.
"So . . . Gabe . . ." she said leaning on an elbow in me direction, "Diane Sawyer you say?"
Now was me turn to be mute.
"Uhhh . . . yes," I said brandishing the smile again, but not sure where she was going with this questioning.
"So . . . Gabriel," She said looking at me with an equally large smile, "What is being done to thwart this Diane Sawyer look-alike?"
OHHH GOT ME. I was stunned.
"Uh . . . . look-alike?" I muttered.
She looked at me very hard like what be wrong with you Gabriel Big Mouth O'Sullivan? Quickly I panicked and changed the subject as I shuffled through me copy. I said, "I have a story about a domestic disturbance . . . "
And she rifled through hers, muttering, "I have something on a missing person . . . " she said glancing at me.
"A suspicious man looking in a bedroom window of a high rise (how is that possible?)," I mumbled to her looking back.
"A complaint of a trespasser leaving harassing messages on a glass storm door in lipstick . . . " Diane said to me as she feigned looking through her copy.
"A man going postal with a broken chair leg in an office of a high rise . . ." I said directly at her.
"A mailbox being crushed by a logging truck in Peterborough, New Hampshire!" She shouted back at me.
OH NO, NOT ME MAILBOX!
"You've gone too far, Diane Sawyer!" I sprung up copy flying.
"You think so GABRIEL?" She flew up and faced me.
Then before the whole of telly land, we flung what copy we could get a hold of at each other before it became a hair-pulling contest, kicking each other in the shins and then I woke up!
Me heart was pounding out of me chest it was so real. I must have been muttering in me sleep because the light was on and me wife was sitting up in bed looking at me, her arms crossed over her chest and THAT be never a good posture.
"WHAT the hell?" She said to me.
"Nothing. Only a bad nightmare." I stammered blinking in the glare.
"Diane Sawyer? Scott Pelley? Brian Ross? AND YOU?" She accused. "Just what were you all doing?"
"Uhhh . . . " I cleared me throat.
"Lipstick, mailboxes . . . ? Diane stop it, that hurts? Just WHAT was she doing?" Tonya stared at me.
"Was a bad dream Ton, just a dream and I can't remember it," I turned over away from the glare of the wife and her bedside light. Luckily, she switched it off and went back to sleep. But -- I lied, I could remember it all, it was so real R. Linda. Took me a lot of tossing and turning and it wasn't until dawn I finally fell asleep. With the sun up and the nightmare fading, I realise I can't watch Sawyer that's for sure, I can't even watch Pelley now, that I won't get the jitters and the wife won't be watching me like a hawk. I guess that leaves Brian Williams. It could have been worse I suppose, I could have dreamed Dragon was writing the copy, hum . . . maybe she WAS in me dream doing just that and getting me arse in trouble. YES, THAT'S IT, it was the Dragon's fault! I remember it now, she was sitting in that dimly lit control booth, it was HER counting me down to the news! Oi! I knew it. That woman MUST go home TODAY! SIGH.
Gabe
Copyright © 2011 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
Well, I be not sure if the Dragon's overlong stay made me have a nightmare or what, or maybe it was a combination of that and work. Not sure, but it was a strange dream I had and I thought to share it with me dream interpreter YOU.
So here it is.
Last night I dreamt I was sitting at a desk in a brightly lit studio. Me hands were folded in front of me and there were sheets of copy under them. I was clearing me throat to read them aloud, I do know that, but me focus was on me folded hands and the papers. There seemed to be some bustle around me but I was not fully aware of what, just busy people a red light somewhere to me right and another off on me left and bright lights over me and darkness in front.
It was not much later I realised I was in a telly studio about to give the news on the live broadcast. GULP! It was then me heart seemed to start pounding and I looked around and there were cameras aimed at yours truly. I looked to me right and there was a control booth and someone familiar was counting down, but I couldn't make her out. I took a double take to me left because I was anchoring the ABC Nightly News with DIANE SAWYER! NIGHTMARE, NIGHTMARE, NIGHTMARE!
"Tonight . . . we have joining us for the first time . . . Gabriel O'Sullivan. Welcome . . . Gabriel," Diane was saying as I snapped back from utter fright to hyper fright. I blinked at the camera and cleared me throat.
"Uhhh, nice to be here," I said trying to smile and not look too stupid doing it. Me smiling while frightened makes me look kinda dumb, and this I knew.
"Gabriel is from KNSD our ABC affiliate in Indiana . . ." Sawyer was saying and I was wondering how the hell I had got to Indiana and when? AND KNSD? Never heard of it. Sawyer smiled indulgently at me and continued, "With a story about a trio of suspicious juveniles in the Peterborough, New Hampshire area, Gabe . . ." She handed it off to me.
"Uhhh," I cleared me throat again, "Yes Diane, it was reported that three juveniles were walking along together in a Peterborough residential area when the police were notified."
"Oh my . . . what did the police find . . . Gabriel?"
"Uhhh," more throat clearing, "they found the subjects were walking to one of their residences. Seems the person who called the police didn't recognise the one chappy with his new haircut. Em . . . he got one after ten years of wearing it long and . . . loose." I said not sure if I should flash the sparkling white choppers or just look as serious as Diane was, looking at me.
"So . . . you are saying this lead-off story," she laughed ruefully, "was just a case of mistaken identity?" This asked with such incredulous I looked behind me for the writer but of course, he wasn't anywhere to be seen.
"Uhhh, I think so Diane," I said as chipper as I could and I did flash the choppers with a huge smile.
She blinked (probably from the stunning white teeth I was flashing) looked down at her notes (probably to get away from the glare), turned a page and tried again, yes she did.
"Well Gabe," she looked at me intently like don't mess this one up, "I see you have a report on a beating taking place in Wilton, New Hampshire . . . "
"Uhhh, I do Diane, it seems that law enforcement was called, actually the swat team, because the beating was loud, noisy, and severe AND the victim wasn't moving, they appeared to be dead."
"Wasn't moving . . . appeared to be dead," Diane gave those words a punch. "And who was the victim Gabe?"
"Uhhh . . . "I hesitated, then I just blurted it out, yes I did, "seems it was one John Deere."
Silence, she looked at me and I knew, yes I did, she was not happy. Then reluctantly she said, "John . . . Deere."
"Uhhh . . . yes it seems the lawn tractor stopped running with just a patch to go and the man operating it, got mad and starting beating on the tractor . . . with a hammer . . . and a chain saw." I smiled.
Nothing from Sawyer. She just looked at me. So before she could say anything I stumbled on.
"Uhhh, Mrs. Angela Cramer also of Wilton, New Hampshire had a bit of a scare Diane, it seems someone in a white car kept taking pictures of her house. So she called the police on them, and as they were in the area sent the swat team over to her house but they couldn't locate the driver or the white car." I smiled at her.
"Really?" She looked mad.
"Uhhh, did I mention Mrs. Cramer's house got the Cutest Little Cottage In Wilton Award? I think between you, me, and our viewers that was why her house was being photo . . ." I stopped in mid-sentence as Diane was looking down at her papers, but then her eyes were focused up on me, in such a way I knew to shut me gob.
But I couldn't do that. So upset was I to do this right I ran me gob again with this, "As the police left the scene . . ."
"There's more?" She asked incredulously.
"Uhhh . . . yes Diane, it seems they came upon a car pulled over to the side of the road. When they got out and asked the driver his business he told them he was merely being a good Do-Bee and using his cell phone by doing the proper thing, pulling over to the side of the road so as not to cause an accident." I smiled grandly at her, but she just looked at me like I was a moron.
"Well, going on with tonight's news," she said facing the camera, "it seems someone dialled 911 and hung up. This in Petersborough," She glanced at me maliciously and I knew where she was going with THAT story, but I didn't know how to stop her. "Last night the local police responded to a town residence and police found that a young child by the name of Guido O'Sullivan . . ." Here she paused to look at me, "had just learned to dial 911 and was playing with the phone. Police explained to the child and his FATHER that he should not practice on the phone if there was no real emergency." She finished looking smugly at me. "Any relation Gabriel?"
"Uhhh, no," I said too quickly. But we all know he IS. Oi!
"I know this next story will surprise our viewers," Sawyer said looking at the camera, with me still smarting over her Guido piece, I could not be outdone. "We have a story that is at once disturbing . . . but not without hope." She smiled at the camera.
Oh yeah we did, I got meself ready to take it from her and I did.
"Yes, Diane, it seems ABC News has discovered a plot," I said smartly. She looked a little taken aback but then that self-satisfied look came over her face that I was about to make an arse out of meself AGAIN, so she said, "A plot Gabe?"
"Yes, I single-handedly without the help of investigative journalist Brian Ross have uncovered a plot to shut down CBS Evening News with Scott Pelley!" There I got it out to Diane's taking an intake of breath, but she recovered nicely and said, "Really Gabe? Scott . . . Pelley?"
I had her I knew it, so on I went. "Yes Diane, it seems someone made several break-ins to Mr. Pelley's office to fill the CBS news content with sad pieces in order to make Mr. Pelley appear off the news mark, incapable of delivering a story with any enthusiasm, making him appear like a news undertaker of gloom and doom!" I said flourishing me finger in the air for emphasis.
"Really . . . tell us what more you know . . . Gabe." She said staring me down, daring me to do it.
"Well," I said looking directly into the camera, "we have never before seen footage of a woman dressed in black, much like yourself Diane, climbing up the outside of the CBS building and cutting a hole in the glass window of Mr. Pelley's office and entering with a sheaf of papers." The camera went to video and I narrated, "The woman is blond, in her sixties, but doesn't look it from a lot face work, and appears to be very agile for her age to climb up a 38-story building on a cable. As you see she is very nimble and even checks her makeup before she cuts that glass."
The camera left the video and came back to the desk with only me sitting there. I looked to my left and noticed Ms. Sawyer on the floor under her desk.
"Uhhh . . . the woman looks very much like a competing network anchor from an evening news station . . . uh . . ." I looked around, Sawyer was not moving from beneath the desk.
"I guess the viewer as well as I can see she looks like . . ." That was as far as I got before she popped up and said something about a lost contact lens.
"Diane Sawyer," I said with a huge smug smile as I looked directly at her.
"So . . . Gabe . . ." she said leaning on an elbow in me direction, "Diane Sawyer you say?"
Now was me turn to be mute.
"Uhhh . . . yes," I said brandishing the smile again, but not sure where she was going with this questioning.
"So . . . Gabriel," She said looking at me with an equally large smile, "What is being done to thwart this Diane Sawyer look-alike?"
OHHH GOT ME. I was stunned.
"Uh . . . . look-alike?" I muttered.
She looked at me very hard like what be wrong with you Gabriel Big Mouth O'Sullivan? Quickly I panicked and changed the subject as I shuffled through me copy. I said, "I have a story about a domestic disturbance . . . "
And she rifled through hers, muttering, "I have something on a missing person . . . " she said glancing at me.
"A suspicious man looking in a bedroom window of a high rise (how is that possible?)," I mumbled to her looking back.
"A complaint of a trespasser leaving harassing messages on a glass storm door in lipstick . . . " Diane said to me as she feigned looking through her copy.
"A man going postal with a broken chair leg in an office of a high rise . . ." I said directly at her.
"A mailbox being crushed by a logging truck in Peterborough, New Hampshire!" She shouted back at me.
OH NO, NOT ME MAILBOX!
"You've gone too far, Diane Sawyer!" I sprung up copy flying.
"You think so GABRIEL?" She flew up and faced me.
Then before the whole of telly land, we flung what copy we could get a hold of at each other before it became a hair-pulling contest, kicking each other in the shins and then I woke up!
Me heart was pounding out of me chest it was so real. I must have been muttering in me sleep because the light was on and me wife was sitting up in bed looking at me, her arms crossed over her chest and THAT be never a good posture.
"WHAT the hell?" She said to me.
"Nothing. Only a bad nightmare." I stammered blinking in the glare.
"Diane Sawyer? Scott Pelley? Brian Ross? AND YOU?" She accused. "Just what were you all doing?"
"Uhhh . . . " I cleared me throat.
"Lipstick, mailboxes . . . ? Diane stop it, that hurts? Just WHAT was she doing?" Tonya stared at me.
"Was a bad dream Ton, just a dream and I can't remember it," I turned over away from the glare of the wife and her bedside light. Luckily, she switched it off and went back to sleep. But -- I lied, I could remember it all, it was so real R. Linda. Took me a lot of tossing and turning and it wasn't until dawn I finally fell asleep. With the sun up and the nightmare fading, I realise I can't watch Sawyer that's for sure, I can't even watch Pelley now, that I won't get the jitters and the wife won't be watching me like a hawk. I guess that leaves Brian Williams. It could have been worse I suppose, I could have dreamed Dragon was writing the copy, hum . . . maybe she WAS in me dream doing just that and getting me arse in trouble. YES, THAT'S IT, it was the Dragon's fault! I remember it now, she was sitting in that dimly lit control booth, it was HER counting me down to the news! Oi! I knew it. That woman MUST go home TODAY! SIGH.
Gabe
Copyright © 2011 All rights reserved
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