Pursuing hot stories, newscasters just all wet

Today we will examine the disturbing question …

Why do so many members of the broadcast news profession want to be my mommy?

It’s getting to the point where I can’t flip on my TV without hearing some talking head warning me not to eat this or smoke that and – above all else – don’t even think about yakking on my cell phone or texting while I drive.

This constant assault of noisome nagging is the worst thing a man of my contrarian nature can hear. There’s a reason a recurring comment on my elementary school report cards was “Douglas does not follow instructions.”

So don’t be surprised if one day I try to write a column on my iPhone while driving around Manito Park with my seat belt unbuckled and an unfiltered cigarette dangling from my lower lip.

There’s only one thing stopping me from embarking on such a quest: the thought of what the cops might do with their Tasers, clubs and rubber gloves should I get pulled over or happen to crash while attempting such a death-defying feat of prose.

OFFICER – “It’s finally happened. We’ve got Clark under arrest.”

DISPATCHER – “Fantastic. Need an ambulance?”

OFFICER – “Not yet. But give us a few minutes.”

But as I was saying, what annoys me most about these TV news nannies is how dumb-as-dirt low they will set the bar when it comes to stating the obvious.

Last weekend was a perfect case in point.

My lovely wife, Sherry, and I were relaxing at the family compound on Lake Coeur d’Alene.

The TV in the living room was on loud enough for us to hear the newsbreaks and weather updates during which wide-eyed reporters and news anchors spoke in the grave tones normally reserved for incoming tornadoes or war declarations.

Everybody better drink plenty of liquids and use sunscreen, they warned, because – oh, my gawd – it’s really, really hot outside.

After digesting several of these solar panic attacks, it was all I could do to keep from chucking an empty beer bottle through the television screen and screaming:

“Of course it’s hot outside, you boob-tube simpletons. It’s SUMMMMER!”

Maybe I’m just old-fashioned.

But back when I was in journalism school, my classmates couldn’t wait to get out in the field and expose government corruption like Watergate.

I can’t remember anyone wanting to become a member of the media so they could remind the overheated populace to drink more water.

Hey, I don’t want to sound callous. But I say anyone too dense to drink more H2O during the scorching days of summer deserves to dehydrate. Letting a few morons dry up and blow away now and then is nature’s way of helping the gene pool.

It’s probably useless to complain. But I used to think of broadcast journalism as a shining beacon of truth.

Now it’s more like a nightlight trying to keep nitwits from stubbing their toes in the dark.