Goodness gracious

Nancy Grace.
Has there ever been a more inappropriately named woman?

She is to grace as I am to svelte.
Or tall.
Or easy on the eyes.

For the life of me I do not understand why this walking/talking leach/woman has a nationally-syndicated program on HLN.

An even bigger mystery is why I have HLN as one of the presets on my XM radio.

I don't do a lot of driving these days. My commute is mercifully short. And when I am in the car I'm usually tuned in to the Classic Vinyl Station or BB King's Bluesville. You can't beat some of the nicknames that came out of the Memphis music scene: Pine Top Perkins, Blind Lemon Jefferson, and Eddie Cleanhead Vinson.

But occasionally I'll need a hit of news, so I scan through to CNN. And when they go to commercial to hawk some hemorrhoid cream or Sizzler Early Bird Specials, I switch over to HLN.

That's when she comes on.

I work in advertising, so it's already a given that I have a sado-masochistic streak. But this woman's voice, her mannerisms, and her proclivity to talk over anyone else in the vicinity can only be described as radio journalism's equivalent of waterboarding.

Twenty years ago when the ATF tried to flush David Koresh and his wacky followers out of the Waco compound, they blasted heavy metal music through industrial-sized speakers. An obvious blunder.

Ten minutes of Nancy Grace badgering a defense attorney or pimping the travails of Tot Mom, and those brainwashed Seventh Sealers would have come screaming out the front gate begging for mercy.

I can listen to Nancy Grace in twenty second intervals. By comparison, I can listen to sharpened finishing nails being dragged across a fresh new blackboard in thirty second intervals.

This is not say that Nancy Grace serves no discernible purpose in this world.

On the rare occasion when I get in a fight with my wife, I will often storm out of the house and try to gather myself with a high speed drive along the uncrowded Marina Freeway. When the speedometer creeps past 70, I'll tune in to The Shrill One and find great comfort there.

Because while marriage can often be difficult and test my patience, thankfully, I do not occupy the painful shoes of mister Nancy Grace.

Actually, no one should.