The Best TV Show You're Not Watching

You have to love a guy who successfully worked stand-up in Europe billing himself as Bing Hitler.

Scottish wackjob Craig Ferguson, after a brief career as a punk rock drummer, did just that.  He got away with it because he's FUNNY, maybe too funny for network TV.   CBS figured that out about ten years ago and gave him a shot as host of their Late Late Show which follows Dave Letterman on affiliated stations each weeknight. The show is produced by Letterman's World Wide Pants company and it was long thought by many that Ferguson was the natural  "go to" for Dave's chair when the grouchy Hoosier decided to call it a career.  Naturally, show business being the snake pit that it is, CBS honchos decided that Craig was, in his early 50's, too old for the demographic they were seeking in late night programming.  One more stupid decision made by humorless vice presidents and typical management drones that will prove idiotic in hindsight.

Neil Patrick Harris and Craig Ferguson

Little did the CBS suits know that they would be doing viewers a favor as they allowed "the Fergster" to work out the final few months of his contract after giving him $5 million "we're sorry" bucks for their slight.  The man is having a blast at their expense.  Seldom--damn near never--does anyone in broadcasting get to go out in this sort of all flags flying glory. Most often talent is dispatched with little notice or fanfare.  The general method of disposal is to invite a performer in for "a chat" after he or she is off the air.  Within roughly five minutes the subject of "the chat" is being escorted to the parking lot clutching a box containing their personal possessions and a final check.  No goodbye to the audience; no see ya later on another station or in a different city, just…GONE.

Ferguson is taking full advantage of having a couple of months to run his show ANY WAY HE WANTS and it is a scream.  He already offered the best monologue in late night television--never using cue cards--and presided over some of the most bizarre interviews of celebrities ever seen on TV.  But now, without fear of being fired or locked down by management, he is balls out, damn straight hilarious.  I know the show airs late but do yourself a favor and record it for playback at a time more to your liking.  I promise The Late Late Show will be better than 90% of other fare in prime time.  Where else can you find a show with a gay robot skeleton as co-host,  or an invisible band conducted by the "shyest band leader in television" and two guys with degrees from bigtme colleges sharing a horse costume?

Robot skeleton sidekick Geoff Peterson

It might be a good idea to save a few of Ferguson's shows for posterity as the continual unrelenting cancer that is political correctness insinuates its foul stench on what's left of the beautifully creative concept of comedy.  The Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson, featuring truly outrageous and courageous no holds barred, no sacred cows laughter runs only until December and then, like much of American creativity, it's gone.

Thinking Out Loud

The thought that occurs to me as we continue to unpack from our move is this:  Where did we get all this crap and why did we bring it with us?  You'd think that people who have moved as often as my wife and I would be much better at discarding items we no longer need.  As I packed for the move there was an ever present "maybe we'll need this one day" regarding much of the garage paraphernalia.  Now I find myself with garage shelving plans from my newest dependant, the cabinet guy.  The good news is that the floor of my office is finally visible and my desk is only weeks away from being useful.

Yesterday we both passed our tests for Idaho drivers licenses and got new plates for both cars.  The cost was roughly 25% of what we had been paying for registration in California and our insurance has been cut in half.  We may actually be making money on this deal.  There was NO wait at the DMV either and a couple of sweet ladies to say, "Welcome to Idaho".

In the paper a couple of days ago there was a story regarding the human brain and a GPS-like function that enables people to produce mental maps to navigate the world.  A husband and wife team, Ed and May-Britt Moser won the Nobel Prize for their findings.  I find myself anxious to check out some of their work as I am fairly certain that this human GPS system has a glitch or two in the female brain.  It has been my observation that most guys can find their way around places much faster and more efficiently than the majority of women.  Granted I base this on a very small sample of empirical evidence observed by listening to my wife ask me multiple times what street we're on and which direction we are headed.  I also am father to at least one daughter who needs to drop bread crumbs to find her way home from her job as an attorney.  I think women have a defective gyroscope.  

And, since I have wondered into ditzy dame land…A BIG "Happy Birthday" to my longtime radio partner in crime, Cynthia Heath-Kerrigan.  She was, and still is, not only daffy and delightful as ever but since retiring from radio has found her bliss lending an able hand to the marketing department of a San Diego winery.  In the words of her husband, Sgt. Rock, " The rabbit truly has entered the lettuce patch."  Cynthia made showing up for work at an ungodly hour more fun than it should have been and she always made me laugh.  I think our bosses hated us for having real fun while we collected a paycheck.  

Coeur d' Alene continues to amaze Linda and me.  As we settle in it feels more right every day.  I can think of no place I'd rather be at this time of life.  I miss old friends and family but we have a couple of guest rooms and a sunset or two that will make you want to find a realtor.  Should that be the case, we have one next door.

Sunset on Lakeshore Drive Coeur D Alene, Idaho

Something's Missing

I feel uninformed.
For the past ten days or so I have had limited access to newspapers.  Oh, they're around but I have had little time for them.  Unpacking has occupied most of my days and,  though I have planned to at least scan a newspaper daily, it just hasn't happened.  I have checked email and glanced at a few websites but sitting down to read a paper has not been in my 24 hour job description lately.

In place of looking at newspapers I have attempted to keep myself informed via the Internet as so many of my friends and certainly my children claim to do.  It doesn't work.  Anyone who tells you they "read the news on line" is yanking your chain.  Sure, you can pick up a smattering of important information but you're kidding yourself if you think you have a clue as to what is really going on.  The Internet and electronic journalism in general is geared to exceedingly low attention spans and, more often than not, is driven by an "if it bleeds it leads" agenda.  Also, there is no doubt in my mind that most of what passes for reporting, whether intentional or not, leans to the left politically.  I spent forty years in the broadcast business and witnessed it firsthand.

Today I started getting my newspaper fix anew.  My copy of the Spokane Spokesman Review landed on the deck of our new home in Coeur d' Alene, Idaho and I read it from front to back.  Most of the local stories had no meaning for me but it's good to once again be in the know with regard to national and international events.  The written word still reins supreme when it comes to comprehension.  The Spokesman-Review's Op/Ed page is, in keeping with most of American journalism, decidedly liberal but my Wall Street Journal and Investors Business Daily will be here tomorrow to balance out the equation.

Too many cities have local papers that are dying or are merely a shadow of what they once were.  It's tragic.  For keeping well informed, nothing beats the printed word.

The Road Home

Leaving California traffic.  Yeah, I'll miss this. 

Eastern Oregon…gateway to zzzzzzz.

It's soggy in eastern Washington.

At home at last in the panhandle of Idaho

New Beginings

     Dear Michael & Stacey,

Congratulations on your new home.  You're going to like living here.  It will be a terrific place to start your family.  Linda and I have loved this place and find it almost impossible to believe we've spent nearly ten years enjoying its cozy confines.  It's warm in the winter--well, what passes for winter in San Diego--and comfortably cool in the summer months.  We've never had to run the air conditioning more than a couple of weeks in either August or September.  The neighbors are nice and we'll miss them but it's time for us to go.  In 46 years we've packed and hit the road 17 times and this has been a longer than usual stay.  Southern California can be seductive that way.

Our kids are grown and it's time for us to go ride bikes, play in boats and--who knows--maybe even mess around with the old game of golf after an extended layoff.  We'll come back to San Diego often since our youngest daughter and her family live here.  It would be impossible to stay away from our one and only grandson for very long.  (Who else but grandpa can pull candy from his ears?)  Grandchildren are the icing on the cake of a lucky and very blessed life.  You'll see what I mean in another twenty or thirty years.

I wish you many happy years in the home that will now only exist for us in old photos and misty memories.   As we now embark on what is no doubt our "senior tour" I invite you to stop and see us if you should find yourselves in the Lake Coeur D' Alene area of the Gem State of Idaho.  We should be settled in before the year has ended and unpacked sometime in 2016.

Al, Padre fan and genuine alligator lizard

Pay no attention to the psychotic barking of the mutt next door.  You'll get used to it after awhile and the little bastard will no doubt head for that big bone yard in the sky in a couple of years.  Oh, while you're at it, please say hello to my little pal Al the alligator lizard who lives on the west side of the patio.  Al is, like me, a longtime Padre fan (see, Cub fan of the western U.S.) and will commiserate with you throughout the many sad and gone bad seasons waiting to be endured.  Toss him a spider or grub if you get the chance.  Unlike most of us wearing Padre gear, he can catch.

So, enjoy the house: raise your children and have some laughs.  One day, when the kids are gone and your hair is either gone or gray, I've got a beautiful little place on the shores of Lake Coeur D' Alene I can probably offer you at a bargain price.

Sincerely,

Ken Copper

Getting Too Old For This

Having spent the past couple of weeks in whirling dervish mode as we prepare to leave California for the pristine beauty of Lake Coeur d' Alene, Idaho, I have come to the conclusion that timing truly is everything.  In two or three more years my wife and I wouldn't be able to make a move of this magnitude.  It's just too tough.  What was once a part of our lives as radio gypsies now seems to be overwhelming.  Neither of us has been able to sleep much as we worry about all the little things that go into an interstate relocation.  How did we ever do it when the kids were little?!

This project has reminded me that maybe the most significant reason most of us are only allotted a maximum  eighty to one-hundred years on the planet is that is about all the change we can handle.  Change, increasingly at warp speed for us, becomes more difficult as our people odometer rolls up maximum numbers.  Whoa! Why can't things just hold still for awhile?  It's not only harder and harder to register all the technological change around us but emotionally the transformation of America's social mores seems more difficult to accept as we age.  Embracing my inner (and outer) grumpy old man grows easier every day.

Case in point:  Recently I read a report of a new survey of 2,000 people from  a dating website for singles that smacked me between the eyes with just how different our society is since my dating days in the 1960's.

According to the findings, single girls now wait until the fifth "date" (or whatever it's called today) before having sex.  Even more shocking--at least to a man of my years-- is what makes up their mind about sleeping with a guy.

Here is their list:  1. Two gifts or tokens of affection
                            2.  Five social media messages
                            3.  12 text conversations
                            4.  Five phone calls
                            5.  Three DVDs watched
                            6.  Seven passionate kisses
                            7.  Five heart-to-hearts or meaningful conversations
                            8.  Four meals together
                            9.  One bunch of flowers
That's it!  Really.

I honestly can't imagine what this list will look like in another fifty years.  All I know is I'm getting WAY too old for this stuff and am more grateful than ever that my wife has seen fit to put up with my   ever more irritating personality and painful inadequacies for the past forty plus years.

You see, in my day, boys and girls,  there was a tenth item on the list.  A wedding ring was part of the deal back then.  No token tally of social messages or DVDs in common, just plenty of passionate kisses and ring seemed to work just fine. Well, maybe flowers didn't hurt either.

As I said, I'm getting too old for this b.s., and I'm grateful.
Don't get me started on the designated hitter or political correctness either.

Funny Lady

She didn't need the plastic surgery.

I've often wondered what Joan Rivers would have looked like if she had not fallen in love with plastic surgery.  Better, I think.  Looking at old pictures of her I wonder why she was so afraid of a few wrinkles.  She was an attractive woman whose marvelous sense of humor made her downright beautiful to me.  The broad was FUNNY!

In an age of political correctness, Joan Rivers decidedly was not.  She knew that being funny meant being offensive.  ALL humor is offensive.  If you're not offending someone or something you're not being funny.  Only morons refuse to grasp this and, naturally, they always seem to be offended by nearly  everything.

I interviewed Joan Rivers about ten years ago just prior to a show she was booked to perform at Humphry's in San Diego.  My then radio partner, Cynthia Heath-Kerrigan, and I approached the interview with some trepidation.  Comedians can be some of the worst people on the planet to deal with and both of us thought that Joan might be a bit of a handful.  We were prepared for a hard time.  Boy were we mistaken.  She was not only entertaining but pleasant, considerate,polite and damn funny  for the better part of an hour conversation she really could have skipped.  Her performance was already sold out.  She talked with us like we were old friends and was hilarious throughout the interview.   A class act all the way.  I came away an even bigger fan than I had been before.

I believe it was P.J. O'Rourke who said:  "I've always thought that solemnity was the principal feature of a low I.Q., and that earnestness is just stupidity sent to college. "  A fantastic line.  Joan Rivers was a comedic genius who made the world a better place with humor.

Thanks Joan for lightning the load.  Tell George Burns, Robin Williams, Johnny Winters and the rest of the gang now playing the BIG room hello, and thanks again for all the laughs.