This week, I went back to work. I’m joining KRLD, the all-news station across town.
I had been looking forward to some time off, but then The Lord’s all, “Get back to work!” and saw to it another station would contact me the morning after I left my last job. So, I says to The Lord, I says to Him, “I was enjoying the free time. I was thinking of going to visit the family in Ohio!” The Lord replies, “What did I just say?!” [Note from Catholic Diocese of Ft. Worth: The Lord did not actually say any of that.]
This has led to a barrage of texts from associates to show their support. Loyal Scaiaholics know I enjoy recounting my exchanges with friends in a public setting without their knowledge.
One associate wrote, quite reasonably, “You found a way to fail at retirement.”
My original plan was to retire from society and blog about hilarious businesses to start. Another associate expressed concern that I’d be too busy to carry that out. Listen, that can still happen, gang. I’ve been told I’ll now only have to work eight hours a day. What am I going to do with all this free time?! So stay tuned, concerned Scaiaholics, for more information about my breadfruit resort.
I had also considered becoming a health insurance crusader, just not in a productive way. While signing up for COBRA, which doesn’t make health insurance as exciting as it sounds, I was presented with the phrase, “pre-exisiting conditions.” Not only do I not have a pre-existing condition, but pre-existing is redundant! Come on! Just say, “existing condition!” I’m sorry to say I won’t have enough time to parse the language in government forms anymore.
An exchange with another associate led to this week being an elaborate slap in the face of Hurricane Harvey. While the Houston Astros were winning the World Series, I was shedding the drama of my trip to the coast.
I had started tweeting everyone’s response to the Astros winning Game 7. When Fox started playing Tom Petty’s “The Waiting,” I suspect all of Texas had a moment. This associate had responded, leading to a discussion via text about how everyone was telling Harvey off. I explained that I’d refrain from creating some sort of twitter-chain to keep from making the World Series about me.
She said I should make the World Series about me because I’m the POPE [The Lord has been playing a bigger role in the blog, and I can’t imagine a scenario where He’s pleased about that].
Scrolling back now, we had previously texted about how a show about Foghorn J. Leghorn and a Victorian lady would make an excellent sitcom. I’m not entirely sure what story lines that show would follow, but we had established, and I’m not making this up, that a kerchief would be involved.
Now that I work for Les Moonves, I’d like to schedule that meeting. Never mind that I won’t work for Les Moonves very long. That doesn’t matter. You can’t keep a good man down. In an unrelated matter, you also can’t keep Scaia down.
I came out of this much better than a lot of people who were around Houston and Corpus Christi during Harvey. Keep an eye on them, gang.
