Still Too Naive

A few months ago, as I drove to USC, I listened to the DJs at KROQ discussing the Olympic Figure Skating competition from the night before, and one of the DJs talked about how "that foreigner" had won the Gold. The other DJ pointed out that the girl who won, Michelle Kwan, was American.

"I've seen her, she's no American," said the first DJ.

I was pretty shocked. DJs on the radio in LA, who must have noticed the multicultural city around them. Once or twice seen that not everyone in this city is white. Maybe have gotten a clue that there are lots and lots of Americans.

Then I thought, He can't be serious. I had the feeling he was, though. I felt vaguely unclean listening to that station, and I changed channels very quickly. I didn't listen to that station for several weeks after that, and I certainly won't listen to their morning show.

This morning I heard on Star 98.7 (I don't know what the call letters are) that Phil Hartman was dead. That in and of itself is not that shocking--it's incredibly sad, because he was very talented and could always crack me up; I just think of him saying, "This is Troy McClure, star of such promotional videos as..." and I start to smile.

What was surprising was how he died: something about a shooting at his house--he and a woman were found dead.

One of the DJs piped up with, "We think it was an affair. There was something going on there!" (They had to put off their drawing for the Bug-a-day-in-the-month-of-May because of the news, because the drawing was too jocular of an event.)

And I felt really unclean.

This woman was making jokes about what sounded like a murder-suicide. I felt so sick that I turned off the radio.

Don't get me wrong, I'm all for making jokes about celebrities. I laughed at the Bill and Monica jokes. I think Charlie Sheen should be made fun of a lot for being such a dork. I'm even all for black humor, trying to make light of a terrible situation. God knows I'm always coming out with jokes about my depressions.

But this woman was neither insightful or funny. She was just tossing off something stupid about someone's death. Death and a trivial topic like fashion sense--not equivalent. This is the famed insensitivity we always hear so much about, put out on the airwaves for all of us to enjoy.

Maybe LA is as bad as it's been made out to be. We're all trying so hard to be cool and jaded and hip that it's really tacky to be respectful. To be just a little horrified that a woman shot her husband, no matter what the reason. That anybody shoots anybody.

Maybe I should blame myself--hey, I have violence in my stories. It's all fake, nobody really gets hurt. And it's not that important, right?

I don't have any way to sum this up. I just keep hearing that stupid twit DJ's voice in my head, over and over.

(In case you haven't heard, evidently Phil Hartman's wife shot him, and then shot herself as the police came to investigate the sounds of gunfire. Their two children were apparently in the house at the time but are unharmed.)

Career Notes

Lies, Damn Lies, and Statistics