Sign #431 we watch way too much C.S.I. around here

While drying my hair yesterday, I managed to bang the back of my hand into the corner of the vanity in my bathroom. It hurt. I stood there, feeling it throb and watching the blood pool under the skin, a pale bluish dome with a small bloody scrape on top.

Me: "Leah, come and look. I've got a hematoma!"

Leah: "Cool! Subdural?"

Me: "Nope. Not a head injury, just a regular hematoma."

*comes into bathroom*

*looks at my hand*

*makes appraising face*

Leah: "Nice."

Me: "I know, right?"

According to Rachel: Ladies of the Evening edition

Friday night in Carp. Early summer. Ten p.m. or so.

I am lolling on my bed, glass of red in hand, enjoying the breeze blowing through the window, and watching the beginning of a C.S.I. episode on DVD. Leah is at my desk, which is right beside my bed, playing spider solitaire on the computer. Rae wanders in unexpectedly from her bedroom, where I'd assumed she was asleep, since I'd tucked her in earlier. As it's Friday night, there is no set bedtime.

Onscreen, two hookers are strutting around and leaning over into cars.  Rachel catches sight of the TV screen. It's too late to turn it off.

Rae: What are those girls doing?
Me (mentally girding my loins for one of *those* conversations): Well... [pause to collect thoughts] Those girls are prostitutes.
Rae: What are prostitutes?
Me (remembering my vow not to lie to my kids but to explain things in simple terms and not go into too much detail): A prostitute is a woman who makes a living by having sex with men.
Rae (nonchalantly): Oh. You mean a hooker.
Me (mildly shocked and quite amused): Where did you learn that word?
Rae: From Leah.
We both turn and look at Leah, who has a bit of a deer-in-the-headlights expression on her face.
Me: Leah, where did you learn about hookers?
Leah: From Ellie and Grace.
[The daughters of a friend of mine whom I *know* will find this very funny when I tell her about it.]
Me: *Loud guffaws.* And how did that conversation happen?
Leah: We were listening to a Lady Gaga song, and I was all, "what is this song about?" and Grace explained it to me.
Me: Oh. OK.
Rae: Is there any ice cream?

Question answered.  Crisis averted.  Ice cream consumed.

10 signs that I might be watching too much C.S.I.

OK, I'll admit it. I have a slightly disturbing obsession with the C.S.I. franchises. And maybe I've been watching too much. The signs? I mean besides making up my own hometown version: C.S.I. Carp?

1. I'm seriously considering wearing latex gloves to do the housework around here.

Like the laundry.


And cleaning the kitchen.


2. I've also thought that figuring out who left the half-full glass of milk on the kitchen counter that was knocked over by Max would be so easy if I only had a fingerprint kit. Because both girls deny it was them.



3. I've been looking around online for those special flashlights. Not because I need one, but because I want one.



4. I've been considering incorporating vests and lab coats into my wardrobe.

I think I could totally rock a vest.





5. I find myself wondering what the Windex budget for the C.S.I. Miami and C.S.I. New York labs is, seeing as they are composed almost entirely of glass.










6. I was using a pumice stone the other day on very dry, scaly feet and caught myself thinking, "Ooooo! Epithelials!"

(There's no picture for this one.)

(You're welcome.)


7. I've taken to standing with my hands on my hips a lot.



And taking my sunglasses off very, very dramatically.


8. I sometimes wish I had tweezers and an evidence envelope when cleaning underneath the dining room table.




9. I really like C.S.I. humour.


Really like.

Really, really like.

10. The clincher, when I realized that perhaps really do watch too much C.S.I., was a couple of days after I let Leah stay up and watch an episode of C.S.I. with me on DVD. I went down in the basement and saw a Barbie crime scene laid out on the floor.

Crap. What have I done?

CSI: Carp -- "Mask of Death"-- episode one recap

XUP made this comment in response to my last post, CSI: Carp --

"Does Alex brush the lint dirt out of the corpse's eyes and then gaze lustily at him like she wants to climb on top of him then and there and do the nasty? Does Callie find some reason to shoot a gun and compare bullets? Does Horatio find some reason to shoot a gun and kill at least one person? Does the hot latino guy stand around looking hot and latino making the gorgeous blond suspect swoon and give up all her secrets which he will then use against her? I need closure here."

Who am I to deny my few legions of fans? (This is where I wait while you go back and read part one of this post if you missed it. No, go on, I've got a drink and a comfy chair, I'll be fine.)

Well, the rest of the episode goes something like this. Alexx, despite the wholly unnecessary extra 'x' in her name and all it implies, does draw the line at beastiality, and merely caresses the little furry head before tenderly closing up the body bag and wistfully trailing the back of her hand along the zipper while the paramedics cart it off across the dandelion-infested lawn.

Calleigh does not need to shoot a gun and compare bullets, but does drop by the Canadian Tire in Kanata to pick up an assortment of rakes and then spends some time bashing a raccoon-shaped homicide dummy and comparing the resulting tine marks to the marks on the raccoon's body (the amazingly detailed CSI remote rake database being down due a tractor with a load of hay taking out a hydro pole on Carp Road).

She eventually comes up with a match to (collective gasp from audience) the same brand of rake missing from Alison's garage. When asked by Horatio where the rake is, Alison stammers (gorgeously) and answers that it was right there next to the shovel.

Meanwhile, hot latin guy (aka Eric) spends much time dusting things for fingerprints while wearing a tank top and glistening in the sun.

A nameless uniform guy shouts from further down the road. They've found a rake in the bushes on a neighbour's property. There is fur caught in the tines.

Horatio: "I think we have... [puts on sunglasses] ...our murder weapon." [he then pauses for Roger Daltrey's signature scream, but realizes that it isn't the beginning of the show anymore, and walks away]

Eric dusts the rake for fingerprints (in slow motion, muscles rippling) and announces that the only prints on the rake are Alison's, but there are suspicious blank patches where the rake has been wiped clean. Then he and Calleigh decide that it's a long shot, but during a short musical interlude with jumpy photography, they dust the shovel that was next to the rake in the garage. Bingo! Prints that don't match Alison's.

Using the computer in the hummer parked in the driveway, they manage to patch into the CSI ultracool Database of Everyone in the Whole Wide World (complete with flattering head shots) and the prints from the shovel match up with.... Mr. Chalmers, Alison's retired neighbour behind her house.

Horatio pays him a visit, surprising him in his garage. While Horatio takes off his sunglasses and gazes out over Chalmers' weed-free emerald lawn, Chalmers surreptitiously hides a dandelion removal tool and a box labelled 'GrubsBGone'. The others arrive at the open garage door.

Horatio has figured it out. "You were angry, weren't you... [puts on sunglasses, realizes he's in a garage, takes them off again] ...at the raccoon digging up your lawn. [H reaches past Chalmers and pulls out the dandelion tool and the insecticide]. You came home last night to find it digging up your lawn looking for grubs. You chased it into Alison's yard, and noticed how many dandelions she has. Dandelions that might just colonize your pristine grass. [stands sideways and puts hands on hips] You decided to kill two birds with one stone -- get rid of the raccoon that's been ruining your lawn, and frame Alison for it. Payback for letting so many dandelions grow in her lawn that your lawn was threatened. You broke into her garage and stole her rake, using it to kill the raccoon and leaving her...[puts sunglasses on anyway, garage be damned]... to take the heat.

Nameless uniform cuffs Chalmers and leads him away. Horatio and Calleigh smile reassuringly at Alison, who looks even more gorgeous in her relief. Eric glistens.

End credits.

Stay tuned for scenes from next week's exciting episode of CSI: Carp. Horatio and Calleigh investigate the body of a squirrel found in the middle of Donald B. Munro Drive. Suicide.....or murder?

CSI: Carp

WARNING: This blog post may be disturbing to some viewers. Viewer discretion is advised.

I saw a familiar figure skulking in the hedge that separates the front yard from the back yard tonight when we drove home from soccer practice. A raccoon. You don't usually see raccoons out when it's still daylight, but maybe this guy was getting a jump on all the other raccoons by heading out early to find some grub. Or grubs. (Note to critter: Dig up my lawn again, and you're toast. I don't care how cute and fuzzy you are.)

It reminded me of the last time I'd seen a raccoon up and about in the daytime -- it was a couple of years ago, during the summer....

[Cue wavy scene dissolving to signify going back in time]

There are some things you shouldn't have to deal with before you've had your first coffee in the morning. Like dead raccoons.

The previous night, Rae was in bed but Leah was still up. The sliding glass door in the kitchen was open but the screen was closed. Elvis [Max's predecessor] was hissing at something through the screen so I went and looked and there was a raccoon on the deck. I called to Leah and she got a glimpse of it before it ran off. I figured it could smell Elvis's cat food (I feed him next to the back door) so I closed the glass door. Leah was all excited -- "A raccoon! We can call him Ricky!"

I got up late the next morning -- summer vacation -- and I opened the curtain over the sliding door to check the temp on the thermometer outside, and there, right on the doormat on the deck outside the door is the raccoon. And it's dead. Paws-in-the-air, no-longer-breathing. Dead. (We can call him Stiffy!)

Oh crap, I hadn't even had coffee yet, and I had to get rid of the body before the girls woke up, I didn't want them to see it. Oh the drama if they saw the cute little forest creature tits-up on the back deck. (Yuck.) And the clock was ticking. The girls don't usually sleep in that late. So I put on some rubber gloves and went outside. It was a lot heavier than it looked. Stiffer, too. I couldn't see any signs of trauma, maybe it had been poisoned or just decided to have a garbage-overdose coronary at my back door. I bagged it up in a couple of garbage bags and an IKEA bag (Dear IKEA, thanks for making such strong plastic bags. Did you know that they are exactly the right size to hold a dead raccoon? I didn't think so. They are truly a superior product. Sincerely, a grateful customer.) and then I threw out the gloves and the mat and washed my hands about 18 times.

Luckily it was garbage pick-up day, so I was spared the awfulness of a raccoon festering in the garbage can in the garage for a week. The day got better from then on...well, really it would have to, wouldn't it?

As I drank my post-raccoon-disposal coffee, I started thinking about the fact that I had found an actual dead body. Sure, it was an animal, but it made me think about all those detective novels that open with some poor peripheral character stumbling over a body. Not to mention the crime dramas on TV. The place I live in is a pretty sleepy little village, so a dead raccoon is about the extent of the excitement we get around here (not that I'm complaining). My freshly caffeinated thoughts started wandering and imagining, yes, you guessed it -- CSI: Carp.

[Cue another wavy dissolve with harp arpeggios to signify imaginary sequence]

From Jerry Bruckheimer, the producer of CSI, CSI: New York, and CSI: Miami, comes an exciting new show, CSI: Carp.

[Show opens with a pounding drum beat accompanying a montage of arial shots of Carp -- the fairgrounds with the iconic red rotunda of the farmer's market building, the soccer field, the cows grazing on the field on top of the Diefenbunker -- ending with Alison's back deck.]

Horatio Caine stands there with Eric Delko and Calleigh Duquesne. Alexx Woods is kneeling down about to lift a dead raccoon onto a gurney. Alison, a tall, willowy, blonde knockout (Shut up. It's my imaginary show, I can look however I want) is leaning against the deck railing, looking distraught. Gorgeous, but distraught.

Horatio [taking off his shades, polishing them, putting them back on, brooding a bit while staring at the body, then turning to Eric and Calleigh]: What do we have here?

Eric: Hi 'H'. Not sure yet. Not a lot of blood at the scene, we think it's a dump job.

Calleigh: The homeowner, Alison, found it this morning when she woke up. [Alison nods wanly, but gorgeously, in response] We're canvassing the neighbours, but the raccoon could have been here overnight.

Horatio [standing sideways and taking off his sunglasses]: Alexx, any ideas on cause of death?

Alexx: Well, there's soil on his paws and a half-eaten grub in his mouth. And there are some marks on his head that look like the tines of a rake. It looks like this poor baby was eating some grubs he'd dug up from the lawn, when someone chased him up on the deck and hit him with a rake. Horatio, who could do this to a poor, sweet raccoon? [Camera pans to Alison, who looks shifty. Gorgeous, but shifty]

Horatio: Well, we'll just have to dig up an answer... [puts on sunglasses] ...the killer won't like.

[Horatio broods for a second and then theme music starts: The Who singing Pinball Wizard -- all the other good and possibly relevant Who songs having already been taken by the other CSI franchises]

***
I don't know. I think it could be must-see TV.

UPDATED: Full episode storyline posted due to one person asking popular demand. Click here for CSI: Carp -- "Mask of Death".

Sunglasses of justice

Horatio Caine cracks me up. The intensity, the staginess, the melodrama of the putting on and taking off and polishing of the sunglasses. And those black suits? In Miami? Can you say sweaty? Ewww.

Anyway, at least one other person finds H as funny as I do:

csi miami - the boy racer (miami style) - horatio from YouTube