Cue the hand

Anyone who watches the movie “Carrie” is a liar if they tell you they didn’t wet themselves in the closing scene when the hand shoots up from the soil. Of course, I wet myself when the Law & Order “bum-bum” hits at the opening of the show, so what the hell do I know? In fact, I just wet myself for no reason in particular.


Autumn turned to blah yesterday. The sky took on a dead-fish tone and started spitting random drops of worthlessness onto the ever-slickening asphalt that weaves in and out of this little burg. I hate this time of year. I love the brisk, leaf-changing winds of Fall, but once winter starts messing with my chi, I get a little slurpy in the head.

Yeah, I disappeared for a couple of weeks. Sorry about that. I kept thinking I’d have some important announcement so reveal in a shock headline. I’d started formulating them in my head. The top vote-getters among my committee of one were as follows:





As it turned out, I haven’t quit anything, I feel fairly centered, I’ve been hiding from potential sockers, and I haven’t eaten much in the past few weeks. So, I haven’t had much about which to write.

So, perhaps this little missive is like the hand at the end of “Carrie.” It’s a suprising, yet confounding re-emergence of your lovable anti-hero. Feel free to wet yourself. I just did. Again.

Here in about nine minutes, the jury in the Scott Peterson case will return its guilty verdict. I don’t know whether the dude did it or not, but I know I get really uncomfortable when a judge starts booting jurors who are favorable to either the prosecution or defense. If you didn’t catch the lead line to this paragraph, let me be clear: The verdict will be guilty (I’m guessing it will be second degree murder, which the jury will see as a nice compromise between having actual evidence and really, really wanting to convict the guy). Chances are, I’ll still be spewing forth here when the verdict comes in, so if I’m wrong, I’ll be happy to admit it.

A brief update on the LOO (Life of Otis):

My baby is cute and quite fat. Mrs. Otis is adjusting to motherhood very well. I’ve come to believe my kid hates me for coming home when he’s ready to go to sleep. It could also be that in moments of pure fatigue (mine, not his), I fall asleep with him the crook of my arm, relegating his noggin to my armpit. I didn’t think it was much of a problem until Mrs. Otis pointed out, “Your son’s head smells like your pit funk.”

I haven’t had a day off since the last time I wrote. I’ve become very close with the people who spend their lives in the local courthouse. I thought very briefly yesterday I’d be sent to jail for contempt of court. While a very real possiblity for a couple of seconds (I gotta stand up for my rights, ya see), as it turned out, the attorney was just bluffing. I’ve got a greater chance of going to jail for contempt of my bosses.

On an unrelated but tangentially connected note, I’m getting some good reading done. I just finished Wil Wheaton’s “Just a Geek.” Wheaton was the actor who made his bones as the lead in “Stand by Me” then went on to greater–if geekier–fame as Wesley Crusher in Star Trek the Next Generation. Wheaton is a good egg and has been very kind to me recently. I’d recommend the book to anyone who has struggled with major life decisions and the lack of respect good people find in real life. I’m also re-reading David Sklansky’s “Theory of Poker” and finishing up Bill Bryson’s “A Walk in the Woods.” I’m trying to decide what my next read is going to be. I’m thinking something in the nonfiction realm (I’m on a nonfic kick). Any suggestions would be appreciated. Maybe we could start Otis’ Book Club.

Fuck Oprah.

Peterson update: Hundred of people have gathered outside the courthouse, crowding the streets. I just told a co-worker if I were there I’d be selling funnel cakes and Bloody Marys. I don’t know what those people want. Are they planning to tell their grandchildren they took a Friday off work to stand outside the courthouse in the Scott Peterson case? Scopes monkey trial? Sure. Sam Sheppard case? Probably. O.J.?

I just wet myself again.

Here comes the live audio feed from the courtroom…standby…

Uh-huh. Guilty. Oh…first degree. That’s a little shocking. That’s first degree for his wife, second degree for his baby. Looks like we have a penalty phase coming.

Okay, that’s about as much as I want to think about this case until I hear from the ousted jurors about how the would’ve voted “not guilty.”

So, the nation is about to become void of news. The election is over. Scott Peterson has been found guilty by a California jury. Yassir (no, sir) is dead (seriously, he’s like Franco). The war? Ah, yes, that.

Maybe I’ll have some news for you in the coming days. If so, I promise to allow cameras in my courtroom. And I won’t balk like Yassir.

Cue the hand.

Brad Willis

Brad Willis is a writer based in Greenville, South Carolina. Willis spent a decade as an award-winning broadcast journalist. He has worked as a freelance writer, columnist, and professional blogger since 2005. He has also served as a commentator and guest on a wide variety of television, radio, and internet shows.

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