Have Attitude, Will Travel

St. Louis/...
It's 7:00 PM. I'm cranky and surrounded by morons. My wife and I are aboard a shuttle van departing the St. Louis airport. There are six of us: the driver and five passengers.

The driver, about my age, asks if anybody has a problem with him turning on the radio. He professes to need traffic information as we negotiate the final grind of a Tuesday commute. I can tell his actual agenda is something else. Hearing no objections, he snaps on the van's radio. On comes KLOU...the St. Louis oldies outlet.

CHRIST! Haven't I been punished enough?! Not only did I just finish an interminable plane ride, I did hump these "yester-hits" for at least ten years on KCBQ and KBZT in San Diego. (I also plead guilty to having made them hits in the first place back in the 60's and 70's.) I'm not certain that I can endure hearing "Do Wah Diddy" or "The Hustle" one more time without succumbing to dreaded OLDIES POISONING.

Sure enough, each heavy hit rolling out of the van speakers is the equivalent of a size ten steel-toed work boot to my groin. OUCH! The only thing worse than being subjected to this fossilized pop pap is having to listen to the twenty-something no talent jock who incessantly mentions what a Great Time he's having. " I'm glad you're here with me tonight...We're havin' a great time!" I keep remembering that thirty years ago a station in a market the size of St. Louis would have had a person with real talent making good money hosting the show and he or she would have been doing something that really WAS fun.

In today's corporate radio milieu the business plan is to hire somebody for little money and send them lots of memos about making it sound like "fun on the radio".
Pay peanuts...get monkeys. Sad.
The only monkey who was entertaining was J. Fred Muggs who roller skated on the Today Show in the 1950's, and he's dead. Come to think of it, a roller skating monkey (preferably not dead) would be more compelling radio than most of the crap on the air today.

It didn't matter anyway. By the time we cleared the St. Louis city limits, I was the only one paying any attention to the radio. Every other passenger, and the driver, was on their cell phone.

This should send Steve Lawrence screaming into the night!

John? Eydie?






The Doublemint Twins?




I couldn't help but notice the recent publicity shots from the new "Hairspray" movie starring John Travolta as Edna Turnblad.

My eyes aren't what they used to be, but I'm having a hard time distinguishing the difference between the cross dressing Mr. Travolta and Eydie Gorme' circa 1965.

This should only further confuse an aging Steve Lawrence, especially when he's singing "Portrait of My Love".

Who knew?

Al is back...It MUST be Summer

Al catching some rays and some bugs




There he was...right on schedule.
The alligator lizard who lives in my backyard, (I call him Al because he looks like an Al), made his appearance yesterday just like he does every year. It's always late May or early June when the patio achieves that just right temperature that the old veteran reptile shows up by the back door.
He's a little heavier this year. Must have really pigged out prior to that hibernation thing. Well, what's a guy gonna do when the bugs are plentiful and juicy?
We exchange pleasantries. His wife and kids are doing fine, as are mine. He's a little miffed about all this global warming nonsense and wonders just what the hell the big deal is. Frankly, he tells me, he has always been a little chilly.
Al wonders where my woodpile went. He spent some wonderful afternoons in its shade while he scoped out the latest crop of San Elijo bugs. I remind him that the winter was cool enough to require a few fires in the fireplace this year and that, sadly, the wood is no more. He is fine with that, but cautions me to order a cord before summer is over so that I can get a good price. (I wonder if Al was a wallet in a previous life?)
Anyway...It's good to have the old boy back. I know that I can count on him spending time with me most every afternoon from now until late October. We'll enjoy the fact that neither one of us has ever had to put up with a real job, although I would quarrel with him regarding my time in the Army, and we'll bitch about the Padres lack of a "heavy bat" who can drive in some runs. Other than that, we're pretty much into carrying on with our pursuit of perpetual adolescence.

Al is a perfect low maintenance pet. I've had dogs and have endured cats for my daughters, but Al is my favorite. When the day is done and his belly is full of bugs...he goes home. He doesn't come inside. He also doesn't poop on my lawn...
At least he says he doesn't.

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!