The OC Beach Scene

Thanks to the recent dearth of swell here in Southern California, coupled with the generous (those with actual priorities might even say too generous) amount of time off that my employer has given me of late, I have had plenty of time to cultivate my inner political junkie. With a constant stream of campaign updates, Washington rumors, and on-air bickering coming at me in HD from a whole host of cable news networks, on-scene reporters, and quasi-celebrity news anchors, i’ll admit that, at times, it has been hard for me to get away from the TV this past week. From Fannie to Freddy, Wallstreet bailouts to WaMu buyouts, bipartisan deal-making to bicameral division, I have soaked it all in like a sensationalist sponge–and, in the words of synth pop luminaries Depeche Mode, I just can’t get enough.

I know that I am falling for the news media’s ploy–their strategic marketing of dire news events as entertainment, but for some reason, I just can’t help myself. It’s almost like getting sucked into a Real World marathon–one minute you’re laughing at how stupid the whole thing is and the next thing you know its 6 in the evening and you’re still in your pj’s.

However, tonight, as this whole thing finally reaches its long-anticipated, much-questioned climax in the form of the presidential debate, I will be nowhere near a TV set. You see, the waves have once again returned to my hometown, and, as the candidates gear up for what will surely be a historic night of name-dragging and mud-slinging, I will be taking a much needed break from politics down at my local beach. So thank you, John McCain, for your wishy-washy campaign and headline-grabbing faux-heroism, and thank you, Chris Matthews, for your platinum blond hair and unabashed Republican bashing, but tonight, as the sun goes down and the south swell continues to fill in, I will be letting my TiVo do the watching.

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