Mad Cow...and just plain COWS!

DON'T LET MAD COW TAKE THIS GREAT AMERICAN!






I was astounded to see that the Bush administration said yesterday that it will fight to keep meatpackers from testing all of their animals for mad cow disease.
How can this be??!!!
Those of us who are faithful viewers of TV's Boston Legal know that famed Boston attorney Denny Crane suffers from this hideous malady. We watch his deterioration on a weekly basis and frankly...well, actually we find his behavior pretty damned amusing. So, never mind. Rant over; on to another subject.


As long as we're talking Boston...The associated press has a story on the wires today about a new catalog called: "Living XL". The print and online business was launched this month by the parent company of Casual Male XL, the nation's largest chain of men's plus-sized clothing and apparel stores. (I thought apparel was clothing, but that's what the news release says.) The story goes on to say that an estimated two-thirds of American adults are overweight or obese and that "Living XL" is attempting to reach out to these people. (More likely reaching out for their wallets.)
If you're a "plus-size", you may be tempted to order one of the company's lawn chairs. According to the catalog, it "supports up to 800 lbs." and only costs $139.95. Flip deeper into "Living XL" and you'll find the "Big John" toilet seat with a 1,200-pound capacity---"larger than any other toilet seat in the world", and priced at a reasonable $124.95.

Here's a thought...

If you find yourself in need of a 1,200 pound capacity toilet seat, try this:

Have a salad!










"My doctor says that it's my glands."

A Long Weekend of random thoughts....

"Nothing quite like the 19th hole."




According to a recent study of golfers' health, some interesting statistics have emerged:

80% of golfers suffer from pain, injury or illness. (No wonder it's so damn much fun!)

27% have back pain. (I wonder if this includes cart related ass ache.)

66% are overweight. (Mind if I play through fatso?)

30% have played with a hangover. (99% seems more believable.)

If we assume that this study is on the up and up, why would anybody play this idiotic sadomasochistic game?! I gave it up years ago and suggest that you do the same. AND...don't delude yourself by claiming that it's good exercise. I know you use a cart!

In other news...

I was sorry to see that the family of St. Louis Cardinal pitcher Josh Hancock is suing anybody and everybody connected with his tragic death. Hancock was killed when his rented SUV slammed into a parked flat bed tow trailer on April 29. The suit names a St. Louis restaurant that served Hancock drinks, the driver of the tow trailer and the driver of the car stalled on the highway as co-defendants.
It's apparent that lawyers have sold the family on the argument that it is always somebody else's fault. How horrible to take advantage of their grief this way. The sad truth is that Hancock was drunk...real drunk. He was also speeding and talking on a cell phone, not to mention the fact that he wasn't wearing his seat belt.
Drunk driving is a choice and we are responsible for our actions. Somebody needs to tell the lawyers.

I hope you had a nice Memorial weekend and took at least a moment or two to reflect on those Americans who picked-up the check when the bill for our freedom hit the table.

But can Shamu do THIS???

"Honey, I'm Home."








There was proof positive in today's paper!
We males are being manipulated by the women in our lives. Frankly, I had been suspicious. But, there it was in the local section of the San Diego Union/Tribune... a story about Amy Southerland who is a featured speaker at the Association for Behavior Analysis International Convention which began today in San Diego. "News flash for married women: You can indeed train your husband. The secret lies at Sea World and, no, it's not at the park's Beer School. Instead, watch how trainers handle Shamu. They reward good behavior. They don't nag. And, most importantly, they don't expect miracles from the big guy." It is Ms. Sutherland's contention that these techniques will work on husbands. For example, she says that her husband had a tendency to hover over her while she cooked. Her solution? She learned from an animal trainer how it is best sometimes to teach an animal a new behavior to replace the unwanted one.

Instead of telling her husband to buzz off, she placed a bowl of chips and salsa across the room.

Or she put out cheese for him to grate a short distance from her. Her husband naturally zeroed in on those instead.

I don't know about the rest of you guys, but I am starting to feel used by this kind of treatment. I also want to know how long this has been going on! Is this something that is passed on from mother to daughter? (If so, I have sons-in-law to warn!) Or, is it something that came up in committee while the women were having one of those secret meetings we're never invited to attend?
I have a feeling that this is why we always seem to be on DOUBLE SECRET PROBATION!!!!!!! It certainly can't be that pesky "you always leave the seat up" thing. Can it???

I provide this information as a public service to all members of the human race who are in possession of a Y chromosome and I will also continue to monitor additonal information coming out of the aforementioned convention.

Right now I must excuse myself.
Linda has hinted of cookie treats if I do a reasonably good job of cleaning up the pool room.
I also have a plan that could possibly rate some ice cream.
It involves ending that "put the seat down" problem forever.






"Check this out Shamu!"

It's VEGAS BABY!

Not everything that happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.
Take my cousin Bill, for example...

Bill Copper just left my house in San Diego this morning. He had been staying with my wife and I for a few days while he took care of some business in the area, but around 8 AM he pointed the Jaguar toward the East and returned to the world's largest sandtrap...Las Vegas. Bill has lived there for almost thirty years now and doesn't see himself ever leaving. Why should he? It really is a great place to live.

I should point out that I do have some expertise on the very subjective choice of great places to live. The radio business took me to many cities over the years and I developed definite opinions on the desirability of each one. Some I loved...and others still retain signs of the smoking patch of rubber I laid leaving their corporate limits. Las Vegas is one that I arrived in accidentally and grew to love. Before we packed up the kids, dogs and cats to move there I think we had visited the place a grand total of once and hadn't been that impressed with it. It's funny how you can grow to love a place for reasons unimagined before you arrived.

Most folks only experience the Las Vegas strip and, maybe, Glitter Gulch , as downtown is referred to by the Chamber of Commerce. But, Las Vegas is so much more. It has wonderful parks, good schools, Lake Mead, Mt. Charleston and like New York...ANYTHING you want twenty-four hours a day. Also, typical of the West, it's loaded with residents bearing great stories of how they arrived. Our family spent almost four years there and would have stayed longer if my partners and I hadn't sold the radio station we owned for a handsome profit.

Sure, it's growing too fast. (When we left in 1986 the population was around 600,000 and today it's over 1,600,000.) However, there is no state income tax and the price of a house is still reasonable. Oh yeah, it's hotter than seven hundred hells from June through September, but like a microwave oven, it's a dry heat.

Next time you have a little time, give Las Vegas some consideration...Rent a car and get away from the Strip.

It's VEGAS BABY!

Why Won't He Go Away?!

This man could screw up a two car funeral.




I remember feeling lucky to get a home loan with only a 14% interest rate during the Carter administration.

I recall runaway inflation.

Who could forget his betrayal of the Shah of Iran and the nightmare of militant Islam ushered in by that wretched foreign policy ?

Remember our fellow countrymen held hostage for over 400 days?

How about the parade of inept gap-toothed goobers from Georgia installed in important positions in this man's cabinet?

Still have your case of Billy Beer?

I also remember most of us sending him a message in November of 1980...
Get out and STAY OUT!!

The only thing we need out of the peanut plantin' pantload from Plaines is SILENCE!

Okay...You're right! I forgot a few...

Food fight!!!!!







I know I'm hard to reach via this blog. For whatever reason, I'm told that it is difficult to make comments regarding content. Something about needing a password and other hoops you need to jump through in order to leave your thoughts... I apologize for that. Perhaps that is the price of having a "free" blog.
Anyway...I did get the following e-mail in response to my blog on favorite movies:

I see a lot of "Animal House" celebs on your site. Was it so great that you forgot that all time classic? Also, "Vacation", "Trains, Planes and Automobiles", and anything by "The Duke"...especially "True Grit".
Don't forget "Christmas Story" which we can relate to, wearing our snow suits and looking like penguins and dealing with bullies. One of my favorites was "Lake Boat" due to the fact that I was in the Merchant Marine and saw how he caught the true character of the fugitives from the fool farm. They don't need insane asylums, just get them jobs on Merchant ships. Some great actors in that obscure movie; some well known and unknown.
I don't fault you for this. After all you said it was off the top of your balding head. Great site. Keep up the good work.

Anonymous in NH

Absolutely! I did miss lots of great movies and hoped to hear from some of you about your own favorites. Another one that occurs to me right now is: "My Favorite Year" which featured Peter O'Toole in a role modeled after Errol Flynn. It was a wonderfully funny movie which I would recommend to anybody.

Sorry for the difficulty in adding your comments. If you would like to e-mail me for any reason, the address is: reppoc@pacbell.net.

Thanks California...No chair for Phil

It has come to my attention that it will be impossible to fry Phil Spector.
Apparently we don't have the electric chair in the state of California. I had forgotten that our dirtbags get to take the slide to hell via the more comfortable lethal injection method of extermination.
Too bad.
I'm now wondering what the state's take would be regarding an idea I had last night.
Hear me out. If I can get hold of two guys from my old Army outfit, 2nd platoon B Company 121st Signal Battalion/1st Infantry Division, we could take care of puss bag Phil in short order. I have left messages for Sgt. Rudy and Spec/4 Murphy and await their reply. It has been almost forty years since I have been in contact with them; so this may take awhile.

Should they agree, Phil could be dispatched swiftly though painfully by being confined to my garage with Rudy, Murphy and a case of Watties baked beans. Duct tape around the doors should insure Phil's speedy expiration.



Hey Phil...here's your wall of sound!

Ride the Lightning PHIL!

Phil Spector





End this idiotic trial right now!
Anybody who looks like Phil Spector should get the CHAIR! It's an automatic.

This rant has nothing to do with my not having yet received my "co-operation" and appreciation check from the Philster for helping push "Be My Baby" and other top 40 delights up the charts way back when. No, this is all about him looking like a damn doofus...and incidentally also being a murdering bastard.

About 50 kilowatts should do it.

Next....

Off the top of my head...Here is my list

One of the great old movie palaces somewhere in the wilds of New Jersey








You didn't ask, but I was thinking about some of my favorite movies. Actually, what prodded my reverie was a conversation with a friend of mine. We started naming movies that we loved and wouldn't mind seeing again real soon.

Here, with brief explanation, are the films that immediately made the cut. I'm sure I'll think of more just as soon as I finish this but, for now, this is it:

(In no particular order)

1. "The Fisher King"... This one does a great job of capturing the "ridin' high in April; shot down in May" aspect of the radio business and it's a great story.

2. " Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?"...A movie with an outstanding cast that made me laugh out loud throughout.

3. "Shakes the Clown"...The "Gone with the Wind" of alcoholic clown movies!

4. "Blazing Saddles"...The funniest of all Mel Brooks movies.

5. "Parenthood"...A fun movie that all parents can enjoy. The best line belongs to Jason Robards who, when asked when parenthood officially ends, says: "It's like your aunt Edna's ass...it goes on forever and it's just as frightening."

6. "A Thousand Clowns"...My all time favorite movie! I completely identify with Murray Burns and, like him, have often been unable to cope with the harness of regular employment.

7. "Father Goose"...Cary Grant as a malcontent who has retired to the South Seas to escape humanity. He's a lot like Murray Burns. Am I hitting on a theme here?

8. "Good Morning Vietnam"... Yep, it's a theme! Another wise ass malcontent...but he's damn funny.

9. "Wonder Boys"... A feel good movie that is also very funny.

10. "Scent of a Woman"...Great cast; wonderful story with a terrific message.

11. "Kingpin"...How many screamingly funny bowling movies are there?? They have got to have this one running in a continuous loop at the Bowling Hall of Fame.

12. "Radio Days"...I love all of Woody Allen's movies, but this one is a valentine to the golden age of radio.

13. "Prairie Home Companion"...Another great tribute movie to the radio business.

14. "Saving Private Ryan"...A must see for all of us who live in a free America because of the sacrifice of the brave men and women who won World War II.

15. Anything from W. C. Fields or the Marx Brothers. If they don't make you laugh, it's time to check in to the Mahogany Hilton.

INFLATION? What inflation????

"I tell ya boy, it was just a couple of years back that you could get a whole meal in a fancy restaurant for 49 cents...AND get change back..."

I used to cringe when I would hear crap like that from my grandpa and other geezers when they would start to bellyache about how the world was going to hell in a hand basket..blah, blah, blah. (They smelled funny too!)
Now, I can't wait to have a grandkid or two of my own to serve as ground zero for the fifty mega tons of angst I want to unload regarding TODAY'S prices. As it is I nearly reach for my 45 every time some clown on TV relates that inflation is in line. In line with what?! I don't know about you, but lately it seems like just about everything is WAY out of line with the price that it ought to be.

I guess we all have certain prices in mind for various items based on our childhood or some reference point that seems logical to us. For example: when it was time for school to start in the Fall, mom would buy us a couple of nice "school" shirts for $2 each and a pair of new pants which the clerk would ring up for around $5. And now, here we are a couple of years later and I'm thrilled to find a pair of jeans at Costco that are on sale for $13. (They must be good too, they're made in China!) If I actually wanted to dress nicely, I might have to pony up a little more. But, in my mind a shirt should be $2 or $2.50 tops and a pair of nice pants...$5.

Groceries are another story. My reference for grocery items is from the early 60's when I was stocking shelves and bagging groceries for Oscar "The Watermelon King" at Swanson's Super Store in Spencer, Iowa. I'm cursed with the knowledge of what damn near every canned good, baked good, meat department item, and produce product sold for in those days and it makes me crazy, (okay, crazier) to make a trip to the market today. It's nuts! Up until a couple of months ago I was operating on a system where I'd look at what I had in the grocery cart and then take the amount I thought it would cost when the clerk scanned all of my selections and I would double it to estimate what I was going to have to pay. Now, that doesn't work. I'm usually off by 25 to 50%! It's just a damn good thing that all those places take credit cards now. Normal folks can't carry enough cash to function in today's marketplace!

Gasoline...well, I may now officially be a codger. I can remember getting 50 cents worth of regular for a Friday night date. Maybe this isn't a good example...I was always looking to "run out of gas" on a lonely country road in Iowa.

I don't know why I'm going on like this. Maybe I'm channeling grandpa. All I do know is that today I ordered this really cool cardboard stand-up of "The Duke" that I will be taking with me on my next trip to ANY store. When it come time to pay up, I'll point to big John and say, "He's got it."


"Ya wanna run those figures again for me, Pilgrim..."

Put them all together...they better not spell MA!

"Don't ever call me Ma!"
If my brother and I wanted to get our mother going all we had to do was call her "Ma" and it was an instant pass to the doghouse. She hated that word. I'm not sure why, but I think she somehow associated that appellation with being an ancient toothless hillbilly. It was bad enough that we were both usually "on notice" to await the return of dad from work to mete out sufficient punishment for our latest transgressions. We didn't need to add the "Ma" cherry to the top of the "whupass sundae" already in store.

Other than the "Ma" burr under her saddle, our mother was always supportive and loving to Steve and me. She encouraged us in most everything we tried...(well, maybe not the smoking and drinking), but the important life changing things like getting grades just good enough to make it through high school and out of the house. If only she had been able to talk the Army out of wanting me for cannon fodder it would have been a damn near perfect upbringing. As they say in the Midwest, "We were fetched up right!" Though, now that I consider it from a distance, she could have been a little more helpful in cluing us in on women. (On further consideration, I take that back. On the job training is BEST.)

Let's see... Where was I?
Oh yes, I was thinking about mom because this Sunday is Mother's Day. And, I do have a thought or two. First of all, I am grateful that my mom is still alive. She'll be 86 this August and though her mind isn't what it once was...Who's is? She still knows who I am and I think would still take me in if I needed a place to crash. Well, maybe not after getting a load of the snoring thing. She would probably even loan me money. Now that's LOVE!

I will call my mom on Sunday and be appreciative of the fact that most of my contemporaries are no longer able to do the same. I will send flowers too, even though I know this is a completely lame gesture. What are ya gonna do? It's MOTHER'S DAY! I'll even forgive her all the "Wait 'til your father gets home" stool pigeon crap she pulled on me. At least it gave me quality time with dad's belt. (If only he had lasted longer maybe we could have enjoyed some different belts together.)

My daughters will, I'm sure, do something nice for their mother this Sunday; probably a more classy gesture than flowers. (Hey, they're chicks.) I know that they're aware.... they got a good one too.

"He likes us...he REALLY likes us!!"

Nicolas Sarkozy




It's hard to believe, but apparently France has elected a president who actually likes the United States. This is so refreshing that there must be something more to it. Maybe the guy had parents who perhaps mentioned to him that there would be no France if it hadn't been for the price paid by American soldiers in WW II. Whatever the reason, let's savor the moment and hope that this is the beginning of a "new and improved!" France. For many years I have despaired over the guilt of loving their food while hating their politics.

As for the socialist loser of the election, wouldn't it be grand if Ms. Royal used some of her new free time to get to know some of our boys who still reside at Normandy.

"Take Him Fishin'...if you want him for a friend"

"Take him fishin', take him fishin', if you want him for a friend"...goes the old Tex Ritter Classic. And that is exactly what we decided to do.

I should probably preface this tale with the acknowledgement that I haven't had a drink in almost eight years. It wasn't my idea, but was strongly suggested by...let me see...nearly everyone around me. I can live with this promise if I tell myself that I am merely "laying off the sauce" during odd numbered centuries. This allows me to look forward to a reunion with my pal Jack Daniels sometime in the year 2100. Now, having said that, return with me to the summer of 1968 and another radio tale that amazingly...I survived.


I am still in college and working at the radio station, KVRA, and having the time of my life. The money was good and I hadn't yet been drafted. (Yes, youngsters there was once a military draft!) My whole adult life lay ahead and the possibilities seemed exciting. My pal, Metcalf, had been sweating the draft too while he attended law school and worked a reduced shift at the station. He had cut a deal with the Marines to go to their OCS program if they would wait for him to complete his law degree. They were willing and he was to be on his way to boot camp in a couple of months. He had put in a good word for me with the owners of the station and I was now the program director at the ripe old age of 19.

Metcalf had also recently married...SUZY. He and his bride were residing in a little love nest in her hometown of Yankton the town immediately west of Vermillion for those of you not familiar with the greater Eastern South Dakota "metro". Yankton boasted a population large enough to have something besides Velveeta in the gourmet section of the local supermarket. It was also home to some regional bus company that was owned by Suzy's father, thus qualifying her as a desirable monied "catch" for one Mr. James Metcalf. I don't know what her old man's bottom line looked like but apparently it was enough to have the Met looking completely "whipped". The guy could hardly utter anything more robust than, "Yes dear" in her presence. To Metcalf, however, it was all worth it. He was now driving a new Mustang and rumor had it that Suzy's dad was footing the bill for his law school education. Dum de dum dum!

One Saturday in late July...Dave Walker, who also worked at the radio station, and I decided that we couldn't stand what was happening to the Met. We knew we had to get him away from Suzy for at least a little while just to make sure he didn't turn into a capon. To us he had taken on the personality of a once great hunting dog whose trip to the vet had lanced not only his "man marbles" but his "old hunting dog" personality as well. A fishing trip!!! That was it! We, along with some other college reprobate buddies, John Hall and Roger Boyd would take the Met on a fishing trip to the nearby Big Sioux River.

It was set. When the big day arrived, Metcalf had actually lied to Suzy and told her he was going to the laundromat to do their laundry. He even piled the baskets of clothes into the "thanks Dad" Mustang and headed for Vermillion. Sneaky bastard that he always was, he had "borrowed" his father-in-law's expensive fishing tackle and was ready for an outing that even he knew he needed.

We gathered for the big fishing safari at the radio station where we stashed all but one basket of the laundry that Met would take care of after we returned with prize fish, sunburns and a new outlook on life for our buddy. Probably the die was cast for this misadventure when, instead of the bait shop, we stopped at the state liquor store. "Just a little something to slake our thirst on a hot July day" was the rational. Each of us provisioned a case of 16 ounce Budweiser's and a fifth of our favorite "bust head" whiskey...and it was off to the Big Sioux.

My recall of that day is a little hazy...I know it was hot and that we may have been over served.
I do know that at some point we all wound up wearing nothing but our underwear as we frolicked and splashed in the river. Our clothes, with the exception of the aforementioned drawers, all wound up somewhere downstream. Omaha would be my guess. The expensive purloined fishing gear including a custom made tackle box had floated away fairly early in the outing. We were covered in mud as a mud fight had commenced over...I don't recall what. I do remember Hall standing on a large rock in the middle of the river waving at passing cars on an Interstate 29 bridge as he answered nature's call. (Did I mention this was all transpiring within shouting distance of the major north/south highway of the region?)

Late in the afternoon it was decided that maybe it was time to head for town where we stupidly thought Metcalf could still do his laundry and make it home before Suzy realized he had actually participated in some fun. The ride back to Vermillion was memorable. They say that cars depreciate rather rapidly during the first year of ownership. I'd venture that Metcalf's Mustang took about a fifty percent hit in just one afternoon. In our underwear, covered with mud, we all hauled our sorry asses back to town. Metcalf, now aware of the time, was doing 100mph most of the time as the rest of us amused ourselves by dumping the remaining beer into his laundry. (It was mostly Suzy's stuff anyway.)

We pulled up in front of the radio station on Main street in downtown Vermillion just as Country Al Watterson was finishing his "Country Hall of Fame" show. (You may remember Al from a previous blog of mine.) In our underwear we got out of the car. This on a Saturday afternoon in broad daylight. (I'm almost positive the statute of limitations has expired for this caper. Hasn't it?) We proceeded to walk through the front door of the radio station and began chatting with the receptionist who, by the way, was not at all pleased to see us. We, on the other hand, were MOST happy to see anyone of the female persuasion. We graciously invited her to join us at the apartment Walker and I shared...but, she declined. It's a good thing too as I found out later that she was a cousin of my longtime pal the Skipper.

Al was even less happy to see us. As I remember he locked the control room door and told us to go away or he would call the owner. You'd think that a guy who was a purveyor of country music would have been a little more receptive to some fellas who had consumed too much wobble water.

I was never able to extract the whole awful story of Suzy's revenge on the Met from the man himself, but I can only hope that he got his "man parts" back in the divorce settlement; maybe the Mustang too. Yes, they did divorce. And, I no longer drink...but it sure was fun that hot July day in 1968. Maybe now I can catch some fish.

She's weird...you'll like her!

My friend Judy McDonald is coming by tomorrow.
Remember the name.

Judy is one of the funniest people I know and I think you'll be hearing more from her in years to come. I met her at the unemployment office after, (big surprise), getting shown the parking lot by a radio station. She was the only person who actually had been fired from a dumber job than mine. Since that meeting, Linda and I have become friends with her whole family and they are equally delightful and "touched".

Judy was recently doing some shows in Louisiana and recorded some video on the bayou that is worthy of the movie "Deliverance". You can check it out by going to the "links" on the right side of this page and clicking on judymcdonald.net. When you get to her site, click on the BLOG sign and it will transport you to her latest video. It's a little slice of "toothless goober heaven" that will give you and idea of what she is all about.

Enjoy.

Oh, by the way, this plug has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Judy and her mom are bringing cookies to our house tomorrow...nothing at all.

PLANES, no trains, and a RODEO...

I've been traveling.
Getting on a plane used to be fun. DIDN'T IT?

How did we manage to take something that used to be an adventure and turn it into root canal? I'm sure it wasn't that long ago we were able to show up at the airport; board the plane with little pushing and shoving and enjoy a surprisingly comfortable transport to our destination. The food was reasonably good too.

No more. Thanks to cheaper airfares and idiots who want to kill us, a plane ride is the equivalent of Army basic training. Trust me, I've been there. We now wait in ridiculous lines, nearly undergo an enlistment physical, ("turn your head and cough") are shoved into seats designed by the Marque De Sade and told to "buckle up and enjoy your pretzels...we're fifth in line for take-off". Please, just knock me out and wake me when we get there. It's brutal.

Speaking of brutal...I did get to cross off "See a rodeo" from my list of things to accomplish in this lifetime. In fairness, I had been putting it off for over fifty years and now at least I know why.

Thanks to Brokeback Mountain, I was already starting to have my doubts about cowboys, but I had no idea just how kinky they really are. Not only are they into high heels, they also have a thing for tieing up cattle. The rodeo I saw this past Friday night was a non-stop orgy of cattle bondage and leather. Also, and I'm probably being a little picky here, the arena could have used a serious dose of air freshener. Horses and cows are apparently not shy about answering nature's call. Woooooooweeeeee!!! And the goats...you don't even want me to fill you in on their deportment.


The evening wasn't a total loss, however. I did rough out a screen play in my head while watching the various rodeo events. I'm calling it "Rodeo Girls in Bondage" and I've already signed my leading lady...




Miss Helen Heifer!






Helen was right there at the rodeo and is already real well known to the cowboys as the proprietor of Miss Helen's House of Bondage where rodeo fans can earn DOUBLE frequent flyer miles.

Flying and rodeo were made for each other! I should get out more often.