Who Is Geraldo Rivera?

One of my favorite people actually. But let me give you a little background on this blog. Those of you who know me well know that my ex-husband is one of my best friends. He got a substantial dedication in my book and I really wouldn't be where I am today without him. Period, end of subject.

He is also one of the funniest people I know.

So last night when he started blowing up my phone (this often happens when either one of us gets bored because the rest of the world doesn't seem to see our humor in things), I took it very seriously. Please insert his New Yoke accent here (heea).

Rick: "Oh geeze, hev choos seen Geraldo Rivera tonight on ta news?"
Me: "No, why?" [I'm going to delete " " from this point forward. Too exhausting and it's Sunday.]
R: Becuz he's lost his mine, thas why.
Me: What happened?
R: Oh cheez, he's all over Fox News in his rain slicka soakin wet, that's what. I can't belief choo haven't seen tis.
Me: No, I was playing Words with Friends and refereeing the kids. Hang on. Let me turn it on.
R: Choo betta hurry. Tis is unbeleefable.
Me: [I turn it on and he's right, this is a joke.] Why is Geraldo standing there in the middle of the rain? Why can't he just report from the studio that's one foot behind him?
R: Oh chees, that's ta best part. He talked about that. He said he has to repot from ta middle of ta sitchooation because it helps him bond with his viewers.
Me: What do you mean it helps him bond with his viewers? His viewers aren't smart enough to realize what rain feels like?
R: I guess not. A minute ago tear wasn't enough rain so it looked like someone took a hose and was sprayin it behind him. Unbeweevable.
Me: You mean the news doesn't have anything else to do but spray Geraldo right now?
R: I guess not. He's on 24/7 covwage. A minute ago Juan Williams did a whole montage of his career wit hurricanes.
Me: A montage of whose career with hurricanes?
R: Geraldo's.
Me: Since when is Geraldo a frickin' meteorologist?
R: Exackwy. But according to Juan Williams he is. Juan had all tis footage of Geraldo in storms, back to when Geraldo's hay was black.
Me: A MONTAGE?
R: Yes, this went on an on and his hay was black.
Me: [As I am talking to Rick, Geraldo is stating that he is "reporting live from Midtown Manhattan." He goes on to say that his five daughters (he says this about 10 times, must bond him to the viewers,) and his wife Erica (his 4th? 5th?) are safe up the street in a "Midtown Manhattan" hotel, away from danger and on a low floor." He repeatedly states that he had to request a low floor, no doubt because Manhattan hotels must be just jam packed right now. [I mention this to Rick about Geraldo's kids being safely up the street. This enrages him.]
R: Oh chees, choo shoulda herd him earlia. He was sayin that he needed to decide between bein a fatha and a journalist.
Me: Rick, what are you talking about?
R: I am seewious. Bea wit me a minute. He was tellin people on live tv, with Juan Williams, that he needed to decide between bein a fatha and a journalist so he had to be a fatha and move theyr boats to higher ground.
Me: Who's boats? What are you talking about? Are you ok?
R: I'm seewious. Geraldo's and the five daughtas and the wife, Erica. Theyr boats. He had to move them to Poughkeepsie.
Me: Let me get this straight. [I literally recapped this for him because I was sure I didn't have this right.] Juan Williams is interviewing Geraldo Rivera about Hurricane Irene, displaying a montage of his career in WEATHER (forget about the career with that stupid casket or chest or whatever of that gangster that had nothing in it) and talking about how he had to move his wife, ERICA and FIVE DAUGHTERS and their boats to Poughkeepsie.
R: Yes, I swea on my life. Yes.
Me: Well did he sail them to Poughkeepside himself?
R: Yes, yes he did.
Me: Geraldo, in the eye of the storm, told Fox News, sorry, I need a break because I need to sail my wife ERICA and my FIVE DAUGHTERS' boats up to Poughkeepsie and if I survive I'll be back?
R: Yes, yes he did.
Me: Dude, I've gotta go if I want to save this current marriage of mine. Let me call you back. [Thinking: Now I know that the world has turned into a dark place.]
R: Oh gees, yea, good itea.
Me: [Rick is thinkin' there's no way he wants me back on his doorstep.]

At this point our first born tries to sneak out of the house in an un-collared shirt. Sorry cowboy, turn around and collar yourself. I go back to Word with Friends although clearly all of my friends have been felled by Hurricane Irene because no one is playing very fast. My current husband who is sitting next to me during all of this is asking me why the phone keeps ringing and who I'm talking to. I tell him, Rick. Rick? Yes, Rick. What's going on with him? Is he ok? Oh yeah, he's fine, he's just worried about Geraldo in his puddle.

It is also important for my loyal followers to know that I am in the midst of fighting another flesh eating virus. You remember the one from last year on my hip? (I still have the scar.) This one is on my arm now and I am on massive amounts of antibiotics.

At the end of the day I've decided that I love Geraldo. Who else could report seriously, seriously now from a puddle in Midtown because it's "higher ground" and "safer than Battery Park." Who would even consider a weather montage about themselves? Who the heyllll would tell you ten times that he sailed to Poughkeepsie because he was a father first, above a journalist?

When I woke up this morning I had a call from Rick:

"Did choo hea that Geraldo's kids had a problem wit room service?"

No I did not Dicky Poo. That one I missed. You all have a great sunny Sunday. It seems the worst is over.

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