Too Darn Hot, or Get Used To It, Mel, This Is What Your Eternity Will Be Like

It's hot around here these days.

I haven't mentioned this, I don't think, anyway, because I know it's hot around where all of you live, too. When I think about the Regular Betland Gang, I'd say you're all probably really damn hot right now, with the exceptions of maybe Mike the Blogless and Jellybean and Venice up there in the Pacific Northwest, but they balance out LilyG, who's in "Kansas," and I'm sure it's even hotter over there than it is here.

We haven't reached the three figures, yet, anyway, like some of you people have. But we're holding steady in the high two figures, and we have that added special feature of 100% humidity. The South's like that, you know. I'm not sure exactly why, in His infinite wisdom, when God was holding a big handful of humidity on the fifth or so day, he said, "Yeah. There's the perfect place for this."

And so I walk outside from my refrigerated house to get in my car, and the H & H (heat and humidity) grab me around the throat, and I get in my refrigerated car and drive to work, and I get back out to walk into the office and the H & H grab me around the throat again. I walk into the office and it's nice and cool, at least for about 17 minutes, then it seems just as hot as it is outside because the landlord won't let us drop the building temperature below 71 degrees. And this drives me crazy, because the thermostat is right there in my face, I walk past it six or seven times a day, and I look at that 71 degrees on the screen and know I can't touch it and make it 66, which is about where the Poderosa stays. (Yes! I'm an Energy Hog!)

Then after work I walk back outside and realize that 71 degrees isn't such a bad deal, because the H & H grab me around the throat again, and I go back home and grab my stuff to go for a swim. Now, I normally complain when I get in the pool and it's too cold for my liking, but lately, yeah, I know, I'd complain if they hung me with a new rope. Because for about the past week I've hopped into the pool and started my laps, and I feel just a little bit like a noodle thrashing around in a cement pot of boiling water.

Today as I walked out of the office at 1:00, for I took another afternoon off (I'm getting quite bold at work since I threw that guy out of the office), I met with a happy sight. It was starting to rain. I danced all the way down to my car, singing randomly, "It's raining - it's ra-a-a-aining!" And I got in my car and drove home, which takes about 4 minutes, and by the time I reached the Poderosa Driveway the rain had stopped. And I got out of my car, expecting it to be a few degrees cooler, but instead it was about 10 degrees warmer.

But that's summer for you, I guess. I'm just happy I have the refrigerated house and refrigerated car.

Speaking of hot, Mel Gibson seems to be the hot topic lately. Now, I've got to tell you, whenever I blog about the current hot topic of any given day, I normally fail miserably and my blog turns into a big mess. History proves this, my blogs about the Pledge of Allegiance and the Dixie Chicks bashing President Bush (Drinky McDumbass) were crashing bores, but this whole Mel thing has been on my mind and I feel like I should say a few words about it.

And let's get this out of the way right now. I'm no fan of Mel's. I never have been. Those "Lethal Weapon" movies are horrible, and "Braveheart" was right up there with "Dances With Wolves" in the Rotten Movies Directed By Movie Stars Department. And then he did that "Ransom" movie that was filmed with a blue piece of paper over the camera, but I guess that wasn't his fault. "What Women Want" was dumb, as were "Mad Max," "Signs," and "The Man Without A Face," but I guess I'll give credit where it's due for "The Year of Living Dangerously" and "Gallipoli." Cause I'm nice that way.

But then came "Passion of the Christ," which admittedly I've never seen, but that won't stop me from bashing it anyway because when it came out all the brouhaha surrounding it made me want to puke. Then there was the story of the man who saw "Passion" and it moved him to the point where he turned himself in for a murder he'd committed, and the story of Mel's father, Mr Nazi Who Said The Holocaust Never Happened, and, well, you know it all, I won't rehash it here.

And the whole "Passion" thing also revolved around Mel's own passion, for his religion, so he told us, over and over, and he released some nuggets of wisdom like his wife was going to hell because she was of a different religion to his, but I guess maybe his thinking on that was, "Screw eternity, she's fun while I'm on earth." Or is she, because the stories of Mel and his extracirricular marital activities are many, and no, we weren't there in the bedroom so we don't know what did or didn't happen, but I'm just saying, you know?

Then, of course, there were Mel's remarks towards the gay community, which I've found to be so hateful I wouldn't be surprised if there was a picture of him right beside Eminem on the wall of the Gay Union Hall, to be spat upon or a or stuck with a pin upon one's entering.

But then "The Passion" came and went, and Mel was back to being a regular old guy in Hollywood, at least until he decided to drink and drive. And you know, I've never understood this, and I'll admit I'm not famous, but I always thought famous people were surrounded by do-gooders and looker-afters who made sure that things like this didn't happen. But they seem to happen often enough, so maybe I'm wrong on that count.

And so Mr Gibson got all liquored up and decided to hit the gas pedal till his speedometer reached about 87, and it's to his credit he didn't kill anybody along the way, but here's the thing that just astounds me. Here's a drunk man who's just been pulled over for speeding. And what does he decide to go on a tirade about? The Jews! It boggles the mind. No "You fuckin' cops," no "Everybody's on my case because I'm famous," no "Get offa me - I can drive by myself!" He starts with the Jews.

You convince me there's not something there.

Anyway, now that he's been arrested and had a goofy picture made in the lockup (although, admittedly, not nearly as goofy as Nick Nolte's), Mel's asking us all for forgiveness. He's reaching out to Jewish leaders to help him with The Healing.

And you know, forgiveness is a divine thing, and I'd like to be noble and say I'm good at it, but I'm not. And not just towards Mel. To be honest, I wish it was something I was better at. But I'm human, like most of the schlubs out there walking around. I admire those who are, and aspire to be like them one day. But that's not Mel's problem, or anyone else who's wronged me or pissed me off; it's mine.

I just think Mel's maybe not such a nice person. I've thought it for a while, and I think it even more now.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* And for one minute, let's forget our Jewish friends. The man drank and drove, for cryin' out loud. That's certainly not very nice.
* It's still hot, by the way.