Alone, in a strange bed
I’m not a panic-prone person. Don’t get me wrong: I can become anxious, it’s just not one of my defaults.
I’m currently enjoying a long weekend in Palm Springs with one of my oldest friends. He has a beautiful home and a well-stocked bar. Last night he hosted a dinner party for a circle of friends celebrating being vaccinated, reclaiming some of halcyon joys of 2019.
After dinner was scotch & cigars. We both clocked out around 10PM. Full bellies, happy hearts, and neither of us with a BAC under .12. I put on WandaVision to drown out his cacophonous snoring and quickly fell asleep.
My ringtone is sort of a White Zombie-meets-questionable tuning thing. Hearing that at 12:40AM is not a happy-making thing. Coming from behind a blocked caller ID, even less so.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Teresi? This is Officer Cruz with the Fresno Police Department. We’re at Radio City……”
I don’t want to misrepresent Officer Cruz, but from my perspective the interval between ‘Police Department’ and ‘…at Radio City’ was L-O-N-G.
Long enough to sober up. Long enough to contemplate a dozen horrible storylines. Long enough to get my heart well away from the resting rate of 45 seconds earlier.
Some well-intentioned soul had called in a welfare check on the host at KMJ. At 12:40 AM on a Sunday morning. Because – and I am quoting here – “it sounds like he’s having a stroke.”
Friends, We’re the home of Red Eye Radio at that time of night. Eric & Gary are working out of the Westwood One studios in Dallas. I assure you that in the event of a medical emergency they would have their team throw on a “Best Of” program while they sought medical intervention.
I told Officer Cruz that unless FPD had a “fly to New York” option (it was late and I wasn’t exactly functioning at 100%) they couldn’t do anything about the hosts, that we were in syndication, and that they were most likely responding to a call about an automation error.
Officer Cruz thanked me for taking his call and we said goodbye. I hope that Officer Cruz and his partner went on to have a peaceful night. I went out to the fountain and spent several minutes breathing deeply.
Everything’s fine, but it took me a few minutes to get back to sleep.
The long weekend in Palm Springs has been restorative (the preceding notwithstanding). We see good people, we contemplate the mysteries of life, and we float around in the pool sipping cocktails and absorbing that sunlight you can only get in Southern California when the weather is perfect.
And I’ve only absorbed as much news as has been at the top of my notifications. I don’t spend time on social media, except to post a few shots to Instagram, and so my belief that we’re better off without it is being reenforced with each passing day.
Finally, as I sit down to review this: is there anything (outside of certain private gymnastic pursuits for consenting adults) that feels quite as good as putting on warm, dry jeans after getting out of the pool?
I’ll be back Tuesday. Maybe.
Stand by: TikTok is apparently “canceling” Eminem.
Lord, give me strength.