The Tiger Woods Saga; Hoocies Gone Bad

Sadly, the Tiger Woods saga continues. Enough mistresses have come forward to almost field a lingerie football team. A lot has been said about Tiger's tarnished image. But wait! I have the same feeling about mistresses. It used to be if you compensated and treated them well they remained loyal and kept quiet. But alas, hoocies have lost their integrity.
I suppose you can't blame them in today's world of the hungry media monster that constantly needs to be fed. With instant fame knocking at the door they're all to willing to say:
"Oh yes. Here I am. I was with Tiger. I did him. How could he resist? Look at this. Look at me."
I suppose you can't blame them. There's famous for nothing money to be made in the form of selling your story to tabloids, photo spreads in men's magazines, and maybe an appearance on a dumb-assed reality show.
Down the line, if they go on to have a family, they can show their kids the DVD of news and magazine show reports about their proudest moment.
Well, maybe not.

Hoocies be squawking
Hoocies be talking
Hoocies used to have class
But that's in the past
I'm a bad poet
And I know it

Super Bowl Half Time Show; More Old White Men

Am I the only one to notice that since the infamous Janet Jackson wardrobe malfunction incident, the half time Super Bowl acts have been all about, well, old white men more likely to have a bowel malfunction that one of the wardrobe variety?
Let’s see, there was Tom Petty, Paul McCarthy, and Bruce Springsteen. I’m getting old myself, I may have missed somebody. I suppose they all met the criteria for half time acts. Long term success, and millions of loyal fans. But then again, so does Janet Jackson, and several other female singers under the age of sixty.
I suppose the NFL can tolerate large sweaty angry men knocking the crap out of each other for three hours white attempting to move an oblong leather ball up and down a hundred yard field. But they draw the line at condoning anything overtly sexual sullying their good family entertainment game. Well, other than hot young women in skimpy outfits cheering their hearts out for their favorite home team. Not to mention their big boobs and shapely butts.
It’s the sexism of the choices that bothers me most. If the acts have to be over sixty, why can’t they be female? Cher is someone that comes to mind. Although in her younger days she had a penchant for wearing outrageous outfits to award shows. I suppose she could be talked into wearing a non-malfunctioning outfit like a zip up leather jacket, leather pants, and boots.
Tina Turner is another act that would fit the bill. She still had great legs, so we shouldn’t ask her to cover them, but she could wear a strait jacket type top to guard against malfunctions.
Tina has such a raspy hard-edged speaking voice I think she could do a good job narrating for NFL Films. Couldn’t you just hear her saying:
“It was a warm 72 degrees inside the noisy domed stadium when the Green Bay Packers met the New England Patriots with the NFL championship hanging in the balance.”

About President Obama & The Nobel Prize

Early in the morning I had a revelation concerning the furor over President Obama winning the Nobel Peace Prize. Loud voices from all over proclaimed him not worthy of the honor. I say even if he doesn't deserve it and won anyway, so damn what about it. Being a black man, not wanting to bring up race, but doing it anyway, I say white people get stuff they don't deserve all the time, and nobody makes a big deal out of it. But let a black person, or any minority do it, then there's a big hue and cry against it. People yell and scream, point fingers, call for rule changes, want to form a committee to study whether to form a investigating commission. I say stop it. Stop it! Stop it!
One of the beauties of American is that by hard work, luck, or circumstance you can acquire stuff you don't really deserve. In the 21st century, if we are truly striving towards equality, then all races, creeds, and colors should be entitled to stuff they don't deserve.
And for you people that constantly bitch and moan about what somebody else is getting, direct they energy toward something you want, and you too might get stuff you don't deserve.
Enough said. I'm out.

Can We Call A Dumb-ass A Dumb-ass?

Can We Call A Dumb-Ass A Dumb-Ass?



In the world of news stories that fly at us at a rapid fire pace, two stick in my mind. The most recent deals with grade school kids singing a revamped song in praise of President Obama. Some parents were concerned that this could be seen as brain washing. This story comes on the heals of parents being concerned about President Obama’s broadcast message to school children. They were worried about it being political in nature.
I know everyone is entitled to their opinion, but folks, these parents baffle me. The tie in between songs and brainwashing. Don’t see it. Makes no sense to me. Dumb-assed.
Having qualms about the president’s message to school children without having prior knowledge of its content, also dumb-assed.
It could be possible that these “concerned” parents are of the ultra conservative persuasion, and just wanted to throw stones into the public discourse.
Anyway, the dumb-assed syndrome is hardly new. Decades ago when the Equal Rights Amendment was being proposed its opponents threw out warning that its passage would result in women being drafted into the military and being expected to engage in front line combat. And worst yet, be mandated to use co-ed bathrooms. At the time there was no indication that any of those measures would result from the passage of the ERA. Yet there were guests on news and talk shows who insisted this would be the case. I can’t recall a host or anchor ever saying the insinuations were stupid and outlandish, and yes, dumb-assed.
Why the silence by the media? Well, it could be because they feel the need to stay impartial during their hosting and anchoring duties. Or better yet, there is so much air time needed to be filled, that if they began offending the stupid and dumb-assed they may be left scrambling for guests and content to put on the air.
Ah, but my fellow Americans, I have a solution to this monumental problem. A dumb-assed alert. We have TV weather warnings. Parental discretion warnings for mature content. We need the same thing when an obvious dumb-assed story is about to be reported. A buzzer could go off, and a flashing superimposed “dumb-assed story” crawl could be positioned at the bottom of the screen. This would ease my, and many other people’s minds.
Mass media. Are you listening?

About

The news that Michael Vick would be re-instated into the NFL didn’t come as a shock to me. I always had the feeling he would be allowed to play again if he showed any true signs of genuine remorse. I’m stuck in the middle of the equation because I’m a dog lover and a big NFL fan.
On the other hand, the NFL is the biggest straight out meat market in sports when it comes to acquiring and discarding players. It has to be due to the high attrition rate related to wear and tear and career ending injuries. Consequently, anybody showing any genuine talent will probably be given a chance to line up and give it a go. Michael Vick certainly fits into that category.
In general, the NFL always exits in a paradox. On one hand they are extremely popular, especially on television, and loves to promote itself as an all American sport for the whole family. But in reality, football is a pretty violent, highly mean-spirited game played by hard-nosed men that relish shouting obscenities at each other.
It should be no surprise that such a game would attract young men with highly aggressive hard-nosed personalities, a plus for players that play some positions. A side bar to this is that some players find it hard to turn off their aggressive no holds bared nature outside of the playing field, which has sometimes led to problems with the law.
NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell has instituted what you could call a no nonsense policy for players who step out of line and get convicted of high crimes and misdemeanors. He seems to be the sole authority on when or if the offending players will be suspended and for how long. The approach seems credible enough but probably won’t be 100% successful just due to the nature of the game and the type of people it takes to field a competitive team.


This brings me to the Jetsons, a 1960s animated TV show that was the opposite of the Flintstones. It had a futuristic premise that featured all the space age advancements that should have occurred by now, but haven’t exactly come to be. The show featured things like flying cars that folded up into a briefcase, talking robot house keepers, and food machines that deliver a cooked meal in a couple seconds. I’m glad the flying cars haven’t happened .As bad as some people drive I would not want to have to be constantly looking upward in anticipation of two crashed cars landing on my head.
I recall an episode of the Jetsons that included a football game. It wasn’t played by humans, but by robots that were controlled by the team’s coaches. What a boom this would be for the NFL. No dealing with humans and their petty frailties and problems. No injuries, no criminal behavior by players, no annoying flamboyant wide receivers, no agents wanting big contracts for their star players. Just robots or androids you wheel out of a box and send out to play in the games. And if a player should malfunction or break down, you would just haul out an equally skilled replacement and keep playing.
The only people who would probably object would be actual human beings with the skills to play professional football. They could start an alternative old school league but it wouldn’t have the juice of the NFL behind them.
But on the other hand, how long would it be before some overzealous owner got nailed for illegal programming or assembling the team’s robots, resulting in scandalous headlines.
Oh well. Never mind.

Reality TV Heaven and Hell

At this point I suppose it’s safe to say that reality TV shows are here to stay, for better or worst, heaven or hell. I’m not a particularly big fan of reality television, although there are shows I do watch. Like all other television shows they exist in varying degrees of quality, and survive varying amounts of time.
However, I’m beginning to notice something uniquely insidious about reality shows. Even if there’s a show you don’t like, and have no interest in whatsoever, you may not be able to escape the people featured in the show unless you completely give up viewing television. I had never heard of the Jon and Kate show until stories of their crumbling marriage surfaced. As far as I can tell the dissolution of their marriage is probably for the good of mankind. What I strongly object to is the constant reports and updates on these annoying people. They pop up on magazine shows, morning shows like Today, and even local news broadcasts.
The Hills is another show I’ve never watched. But I have seen way too much coverage of the stars of the show, especially Heidi and Spencer, apparently the most annoying people in their age group in America, if not the world.
Somebody tell me how this travesty can be put to a stop

Good people, if I do say so myself, I sometimes come up with brilliant ideas. This one is for the ultimate reality show called House on a Steep Hill. I’m positive it will be a guaranteed ratings winner. It will be a one time broadcast live and unedited.
The premise of the show will be to gather together a group of the most annoying and unlikeable reality show participants on a false promise, and fly them by helicopter to a luxury house located on a steep hill.
Once the group has gathered inside the house, Boom , a dynamite charge will, to say the least, put a shock into the group. The blast won’t be strong enough to wipe out all the participants. But think of the thrill of seeing your most hated reality show star bite the dust in a big way.
A broadcast announcement will tell the survivors weather conditions won’t allow a helicopter rescue, but if they journey to the bottom of the hill they will be saved.
Now here comes the next twist. Sprinkled around the slope of the hill will be mean and hungry wild animals; lions and tigers and bears, oh my. The prospect of seeing one or more alleged stars being ripped to shreds, and eaten for lunch by a wild animal has to be just what the doctor ordered for the dedicated reality show fan.
Not to be totally unfair, there will also be weapons placed along the path going down the hill. Everything from primitive spears and bows and arrows to hand guns and Uzis. The trick for the stars will be to acquire the best weapon possible before being attacked by one or more animals.
I’ll tell you folks, the suspense will be amazing. Either all the pesky reality stars will become wild animal appetizers, or some will actually survive, and win our respect, if not admiration. A ratings winner for sure. Call me, networks. Call me.

About Power Groupies & Power Guys

The Governor Sanford affair is the latest in the saga of
political sex scandals. In some ways it’s fairly typical. In
others, not so much. I mean he didn’t just trek across town, or
even across country to hook up with his mistress. He went all the
way to South America with no back up story to really explain his
disappearance. Plus once he confessed he couldn’t stop talking
and cataloguing his sins. This at least spared us the spectacle
of the loyal political wife bravely standing by her man.
I have often been skeptical about these public displays of
support. In private I picture the wife pounding the offending
husband up side the head with a frying pan. And having this kind of
response to any request by the husband.
“Get you a beer. You want me to get you a beer. Why don’t you
ask the slutty little bitch to come get you a beer?”

The female groupie personality type is hardly new. Especially
in high profile professions like acting, music, and athletics. In
the case of politicians power is the great allure. For every JFK
or John Edwards there could be an aging, balding, not so hot
looking politician scoring with a hot babe solely because of his
position of power.
For the power guys, it could be several reasons why they become
players in the game. From believing they are entitled because of
the exalted position they hold, or being thrilled at the chance
of hooking up with a woman they considered to be way out of their
league.
In the past, a sex scandal almost always spelled doom for the
elected official. These days it’s an iffy situation. It could
depend on how the story is spun, what the circumstances are, or
believe it or not, how good a job the office holder is doing in
representing his constituency.
Also in the past, the press looked the other way in the case of
Marilyn Monroe and JFK. In today’s world of overblown media
outlets and instant internet coverage, it would seem to be
virtually impossible for a major female entertainment personality
to carry on an affair with the President of the United States.
Thus, we had a chubby intern becoming an instant infamous
celebrity, and a president going through impeachment hearings.
To me, I almost wish some newly elected official would say
something like:
“I must say, I’m a horny type guy. I might succumb to lust in
my heart. I may screw the wrong girl. But I won’t screw you, my
loyal voting public.”
Of course, this will never happen. But as for sex scandals, I
suspect they’ll stay around for awhile. You can count on it. Stay
tuned.

Random Thoughts About Michael Jackson

I have to say I grew up in Gary so I was a witness to seeing the Jackson Five evolve from talent show sensations to playing local clubs to being signed by Motown. On the every day side the house where they lived happened to be situated directly behind a little league baseball field where I and the older Jackson brothers played. I remember many a foul ball landing in the Jackson’s yard. Seeing the van they used to transport themselves and their equipment to gigs. Or passing by seeing little kids like Janet running about in baby clothes.
I keep thinking that Michael’s life was the ultimate contradiction. What made him highly popular and successful also kept him from finding a delicate balance between his private and public life. It was if his celebrity burned so white hot he became like an alien from another planet. He could be admired to the point of frenzy, but not really completely understood by his fans. He could look for a place to fit in, but would find it difficult to find someone that could completely relate to his unique position in the world.
At the time Michael married Lisa Marie Pressley I wondered why he picked her out of all the women in the world. But on the other hand, with Michael reputed to be an astute student of show business, he knew Elvis was the one rock and roll era entertainer that mirrored his own career the most.
The parallels between Elvis and Michael are obvious. The rare triple threat of top notch vocals, unique dancing and movement, combined with irresistable charisma. In their own ways both were ground breaking. Elvis drove white teenagers crazy in the sexually repressed 1950s. He also scared the crap out of parents, drew the ire of religious conservatives, and as a by product, probably caused white kids to gravitate more to black entertainers with styles that Elvis emulated. With the sheer force of his talent Michael became a world wide sensation. He also broke down barriers like the practice of black acts having to break out big on the R&B charts before ever getting airplay on top 40 stations. Not to mention making MTV revamp their early practice of not broadcasting videos by black artists.
The classic TV appearance by Elvis was his stint on the Ed Sullivan in which they blocked out the bottom half of his body because his movements were considered too sexually suggestive. Instead of protecting their children, the action probably made them even more attracted to Elvis.
Michael solidified his position as the undisputed man of the times with his dazzling performance of Billy Jean on the Motown 25th television special. Anybody would be hard pressed to find a more electrifying and right on point piece of video of the same length on any subject, let alone a musical performance.
I’m hardly an expert, and could be off base, but I can’t help but wonder what would have happened had Michael had under gone a type of theraphy that would have helped him separate his performing self from his real life existence. If he could have been his on Clark Kent and put his Superman suit in a closet to be pulled out at appropriate times. I suppose we’ll never know.
I’m sure that, like Elvis, Michael’s music and video contributions will live on and prosper, and will be embraced by a new crop of fans who didn’t get the chance to see him perform in person or on a live broadcast. Such are the things legends are made of.

A Plea For a Beach Dress Code

Well folks, it’s close to summer time, and the living may be easy. It’s that time of year, especially in places where they have traditionally cool, or cold winters, when many people will be flocking to the beach.
This is my area of grave concern. Most people feel free to dress in the manner that is comfortable to them. On the surface nothing is wrong with this. But in reality, it can be a harry situation for the eyes to see. This is why I think a beach dress code is badly needed. The code doesn’t have to be formal or enforceable by law, it would just be something people would adhere to naturally.
In a business office setting women are not going to show up in a halter and a micro mini dress. Men don’t come to work wearing a suit coat and no shirt. We need the same kind of responsible behavior when it comes to visiting the beach.
Now I have nothing against plus sized women enjoying the beach. But let’s face it, is any kind of two piece bathing suit a great look for you? I think not.
Full figure men. Do you really need to be shirtless at the beach, especially if you have man boobs so large you can make Pamela Anderson envious? My answer would be no.
I know some places have ordinances against women wearing thong or G-string bottoms. Apparently parents are concerned about their children seeing female butts. But let’s face it, we’re in the age of the internet, cable TV, texting, and Girls Gone Wild. If kids really want to see bare buns, they’ll find someplace to see them. What might be more disturbing to kids is to see a well-boobed man with a pregnant belly. Can you imagine a kid saying:
"Mama, that man has breasts like you. Is he pregnant? I thought only women can have babies."
Full figure types are hardly the only offenders. For all you large boobed women that wear bikini tops a couple sizes too small, don’t be surprised when all male eyes are upon you in anticipation of a major wardrobe malfunction.
I can’t leave out the guys. Especially the roided up, oiled up, hunks with their so-called perfect bodies. Do we need to see you in your too tight speedos showing off your ballet dancer style packages? I don’t think so.
My fellow Americans, we must have a beach dress code! Please think about it.

The Fame and Shame Game

The other night after I, for some unknown reason, had just watched my fourth celebrity and entertainment half hour magazine show, it dawned on me that I was watching way too many celebrity and entertainment shows. But the fact that so many shows exist underscores our ever growing obsession with celebrity and fame. Either we hunger for news about this or that celebrity, or we long to become one ourselves. So it's no surprise that an ever growing publication and broadcast industry has exploded centering around the fame game. But the funny thing is no matter how horny, crazed, alcohol and drug addicted, marrying and divorcing celebrities are, they don't seem to do this at a fast enough rate to fill all those publication pages or broadcast time. One solution has been the time-honored practice of fabricating stories based on half truths, or no truth at all. The other is the Orwellian practice of rumor is truth, and truth is rumor, meaning a news source can report an item as rumor, then others will pick it up and report it until those involved in the rumor have to respond as if the rumor was based in fact.
Just at the right moment the reality TV craze came along just in time to feed the celebrity monster. Now you don't have to accomplish anything in areas like the arts or sports over a period of time. You just have to participate in one of these shows that get decent ratings.
And what do you have to do to qualify? Attempt to sing. Attempt being the key word. If you can actually sing you may launch a professional singing career. If you suck to high heaven, you get a one shot dose of national humiliation. The fame game can be cruel. But hey, fame is fame.
Other roads to fame are right there for you if you're willing to grovel for the attention of some semi-desirable bachelor or bachelorette along with a dozen or so other potential permanent suitors. Or you can journey to some godforsaken island where you will be starved to death, eaten alive by exotic insects, and lied to, backstabbed, and double-crossed by just about every other human being present. All for the chance to win a million dollars. And if you want to extent your fifteen minutes of fame you can do like one winner and not pay taxes and hope the IRS won't notice. Of course that won't work, and the press will be right there to cover your trial and conviction for tax evasion. Another venue for the fame-shame game is the TV talk show. When they run out of real celebrities guests, reality stars will have to do. Check out this talk show exchange: "We're back. I'm Blink Nesbie. And my next guest is London Bridges, heir to the Super Ribbed condom empire, and reality TV star. London, it's great to have you hear." "Yeah, like, it's really cool being here with you. You're kinda cute." "Well thank you. You're a lovely young lady. Now let's talk about your career. It began with your appearance on the reality show Let's Eat Some Insects. What was it like eating so many insects?' "Well, you know, it was kind of cool once you got used to it." "What did they taste like?" "Chicken mostly. Some like sunflower seeds." "Of course," smiled the host. "Before the reality show, you had those sex tapes leak out." "Yeah. That was unfortunate. People say they were dirty sex tapes, but they really weren't." "There was the one where your naked butt was spanked by a guy using raw spaghetti sticks." "Oh yeah. Let me explain that. The guy was a chef at a restaurant my family owns. He had been in a down mood. It was a therapy thing." "But what about the tape of the guy licking chocolate syrup off your nude body?" "I was helping a friend get over an eating disorder." "Really." "Yeah. For sure. I'm not a freaky hoocie. I'm really not."

Star Trek Old School Style

The new Star Trek movie is out, and a big hit, even with reviewers. The saga continues in a unique show business success story. The original show ran three years and was only a moderate hit. But of course, it developed such a cult following that it spawned movies, spin off TV shows, books, and even a Saturday morning cartoon show that was voiced by the original show’s cast.
I’m not an obsessed trekkie, but I was a fan of the original show. For the 1960s it was a pretty innovative. I’m sure it was one of the first shows of that era to cast a black woman in a major co-starring role. In the guise of sci-fi the show dealt with topical issues, something network TV was just beginning to do in any form.
I recall a show in which the Enterprise was invaded by beings that were on the opposite sides of a warring planet. The beings looked human except that half of their bodies were white and black. Color hatred was a major factor in the character’s motivation, the twist being one character was black on the right side of his face and the other was black on the left. By the end of the show the being’s planet had destroyed itself, pointing out the absurdity of the color conflict; a comment on the racial strife that existed in America at the time.


Even William Shatner’s Captain Kirk was innovative. He pioneered the hesitation style of TV acting. Instead of saying a line like:
“Spock, is there sign of life on the planet?”
He would say:
“Spock...............Any sign of life..........on the planet.”
For some reason in the 1960s you could repeat plot points and character lines and nobody seemed to be bothered by it. My favorite repeaters on Star Trek were Kirk and Bones.
Kirk was always challenging alien beings, even those that could wave their arms and send you flying across the room.
Kirk would say lines like:
“You can’t do that I represent the Federation. And that’s not acceptable.”
I always wanted the alien to say:
“Oh, you represent the Federation. Ooooh, I’m scared. F the Federation. And F you. ”
The alien would wave his arm and Kirk would be sent flying across the room. Undaunted, Captain Kirk would get up, brush himself off, and say:
“That’s a nice trick. But I still represent the Federation. And you’re still wrong.”
Throughout the entire series run Bones seemed to have two major dialogue themes. Declaring that he was a doctor and dogging out Spock.
Kirk would say:
“Bones, I want you to beam down with our party.”
Bones reply. “Dammit Jim. I’m a doctor Not a beamer downer ”
Bones always lit into the unemotional, logical Spock. I always wanted him to go completely off.
“Spock, you pointed-eared, green bloodied, emotionless, biscuit eating, dog breathed, no deodorant wearing piece of scum. F you and your logic ”
Old school Star Trek. You have to love it.

The Faces of Evil

It seems like every few weeks or so there is a hot crime story that captures a lot of media attention. The latest has been the Craigslist case. A man is accused of allegedly robbing several women, and robbing and killing another woman through contacts he made on the classified internet site.
The constant images and clips you see connected with the story are a photograph of the smiling blonde suspect and his cute fiancee, and clips of the suspect’s family and friends expressing doubt that he is guilty.
This brings me to the question of what is the most sinister form of evil. The evil that you see clearly and can be ready to react against. Or the evil wrapped in a pretty package that catches you off guard.
Part of serial killer Ted Bundy’s M.O was to present himself as a good looking friendly guy in need of help from a stranger. It was too late for his female victims by the time they learned his true intent.
John Wayne Gacy, on the other hand, was hardly dashing and lovable, yet he managed to murder several young men and bury them in the yard and basement of his suburban home without arousing the suspicion of his neighbors.
When it comes to these kinds of cases, there seems to be a universal response by the killer’s neighbors.

INTERVIEWER: Did you suspect anything at all?
NEIGHBOR: No. I really didn’t. He was mostly quiet and kept to himself. You know, he was always out in the yard digging. I’d say hi, you do a lot of digging, don’t you? And he would laugh it off. But I swear. I never knew he was digging graves. Because, you know, he was quiet.
INTERVIEWER: And kept to himself.
NEIGHBOR: Yeah. He was quiet and kept to himself. I never suspected a thing.

It's Coming, Stupid Statement Rehab

In the past few years, it has become a fairly common occurrence to hear stories about well known public figures; actors, singers, TV personalities, and politicians, winding up in rehab due to alcohol and drug addiction. Some of these public figures actually stay in high end rehab facilities long enough to get genuine help. While others may hang around long enough to spin doctor their public image.
In recent times a new twist has entered the fray. A public figure makes a damaging stupid statement, and shortly thereafter enrolls in a rehab clinic for an ongoing addiction. Some of the moves may have been due to a wake up call. Others a part of a cynical spin doctoring scenario. But what of the public figure that makes a stupid statement and has no addiction to fall back on? The answer is stupid statement rehab. Yes my people, it's time. Time for stupid statement rehab.
Imagine this exchange taking place at Oops Inc., the nation's no. 1 stupid statement rehab clinic.
"Come right in and have a seat, sir. I believe I know who you are. But we have to put this on record. Please state your name and occupation."
"I'm Jake Long, and I'm an actor and stand up comedian. I played wacky Uncle Leo on the sit-com Benny's Place."
"Yes. I watched that show. You were great."
"Thank you."
"Now let's get to the nature of your stupid statement."
"Well, I was at a comedy club trying out new material. I made a disparaging remark about a gay black female talk show host. I thought it was funny. But it didn't go over so well. And some sneaky bastard caught it on his cell phone. And then all hell broke loose."
"Oh. That's a three peat. You offended women, blacks, and gay people. That's going to take some work. First, we'll put some writers on your sincere heart felt apology statement. Then it's booking the appearances on the morning news shows and syndicated talk shows where you'll make a tearful apology. In your case, we'll have to book you on black, gay, and women oriented cable talk and magazine shows.
"And of course, there's the de-stupification process, conducted by experts in the field. So. For what we have to do for you it'll initially run you around 72,000 dollars."
"What? Isn't that a bit steep?"
"Mr. Long, stupid statement rehabbing is not an easy task. And it's not cheap. Plus, once all this has died down, and some new scandal takes center stage, your name recognition will be way up. You might land that next big Uncle Leo type role."
"Yeah, I suppose that's true. Who should I make the check out to?"

Baseball Been Very Very Roid to Me

Well, it’s spring time and sports fans are turning their attention to the beginning of the baseball season. Back in the day fans worried about their favorite team’s chances to win the division, make the world series, or at least improve on the previous season. Now fans wonder what high profile superstar will become embroiled in a steroid scandal. Last year it was Roger Clemens, who like Barry Bonds, had remarkable seasons for a player late in his career.
This year it’s A-rod, who is not exactly at the end of his career, more like in his prime years. But considering all the recent tabloid stories about Madonna, strippers, madams, and hookers, he may have needed the steroids just to keep his energy level up.
There are probably only two ways to possibly handle the steroid situation in baseball and remove the stain of scandal. One way would be to come up with an all purpose test that could detect all performance enhancing drugs.
The second solution would be to make steroids and the rest perfectly legal, despite the potential long term health-related consequences.
Of course, if steroids were legal it would be okay for announcers to incorporate roid banter into the broadcast.
Picture this radio broadcast exchange.
"There’s one out, and here comes Billy Breakfast to the plate. He steps in batting at .215. Here’s the first pitch. High for a ball."
"You know, Billy is a prime example of a guy the roids have kept in the majors," the color man said. "He has twenty home runs, and 50 RBIs, but he’s only hitting .215."
"The next pitch is swung on and missed. The catcher must’ve been crossed up on that pitch. He’s going out to talk to his pitcher. Getting back to Billy and the steroids, in half a season he’s struck out 115 times. But boy, when he connects with the ball it really flies."
"Not to mention, he has a huge head. He looks like an alien from a Star Trek movie."
"We’re ready to go again. Here’s the pitch. Billy swings and hits a sky high pop up. That baby is way up there. The third baseman has a bead on it. Oh, the wind’s got it. The catcher and first baseman go after it. The ball drops between them. Breakfast is on second with a wind blown double."
"Now that was really a wind blown steroid hit."

The AIG Bail Out-Bonus Blues

The AIG bonuses after bail out scandal. How could it have happened? How could AIG have the audacity to grant employee bonuses after accepting billions of taxpayer dollars in bail out money? My first thought is, since AIG is a major factor in the bank-housing market collapse, they must have a very low criteria for granting bonuses. Something like if you show up for work fully clothed enough times, you too can collect a bonus.
My second thought is how could they not know there would be a huge backlash if news about the bonuses got out? Are they existing in some type of alternative world? Then it dawned on me. Yes. They are existing in an alternative world. And I know what it is. The world of day time soap operas.
If you’ve ever watched a day time soap you know wealthy business people act with near impunity. They also spend little time working and managing their successful businesses. They usually hang out in their luxurious homes dressed in expensive suits and designer outfits while they spend most of their time meddling in the lives of their spouses, children, and friends. These people of privilege routinely act on the fringes of what’s legal and moral. And if by chance they’re convicted of a major felony, sometimes even murder, they spend a couple months in jail before returning to their lives of constant manipulating and scheming.
Throw in the fact that TV soap operas exist on an accelerated time frame, the couple of months since the government bail out must have seemed like at least a year to the AIG executives, since it usually takes about ten years for a soap opera child to go from an infant to a college student.
So don’t be so mad at AIG. It’s not their fault. They’re just living in a day time soap world. Enough said.

Who Do You Like in the NCAA Tournament?

Who do you like in the NCAA tournament? Those words will be spoken zillions of times in the next two weeks. Office pools and all sorts of sponsored or in formal contests will be taking place all over the country. In today’s college basketball in which parity rules, it’s virtually impossible to correctly fill out all the brackets, although last year there was the rare occurrence when all four number one seeds made it to the final four.
I suppose it can be said that the NCAA’s men’s basketball tournament is second only to the NFL play-offs, cumulating in the unofficial holiday status of the Super Bowl when it comes to capturing the country’s imagination, which consistently translates into big network television ratings.
Looking back forty years, except in regional pockets, college basketball trailed college football in popularity by a large margin.
A turning point was the broadcast of a game between the semi-invincible Lew Alcinder led UCLA team and a Houston team led by Elvin Hayes. In a very well played game, Hayes went on a scoring tear that resulted in a rare loss for UCLA.
That game was broadcast late out of prime time. Eight years later when a Bobby Knight coached Indiana squad became the last team to go undefeated through an entire season, the championship game was broadcast on a Saturday afternoon as a pick up from a non-major network distributor called TVS.
Another big turning point was the 1979 showdown in the championship game between Michigan State and the new to the big time Indiana State. Michigan State was led by Ervin “Magic” Johnson, the uniquely talented six foot nine point guard that had a ‘smiling assassin’ demeanor. Cinderella Indiana State was led by Larry Bird, a sharp shooting country boy who became a hero to many white kids who had serious hoop dreams.
The fact that Johnson’s Spartans won the game wasn’t as important as it was the beginning of many legendary battles that rekindled interest in the NBA. Other players like Michael Jordan and Pat Ewing became long time NBA superstars after winning NCAA titles.
Of course, college basketball has always been a defacto minor league and feeder system for the NBA. The growth of the NCAA tournament the last thirty years makes the system seem all the more perverse. The TV networks pay billions of dollars for the rights to broadcast the games and charge billions of dollars to advertisers. The top coaches can command multi-million dollar contracts. They even get basketball shoe deals. But who gets left out of the big money bonanza? Just the players the fans come out, or tune in to see.
In my fantasy world, big time division one football and basketball would be a separate entity away from the rest of the NCAA. The new class could be what it really is, a big time big money minor league systems for the NBA and NFL. The teams could maintain their conference and school affiliations. There would just be a salary structure involved along with the scholarship.
The chances of this happening any time soon are nil unless some type of major movement presses a change.
So who do you like in the NCAA tournament? Give me your choices and the reasons why if you wish.

To Be Young, Corrupt, and Stupid

Over the last few weeks we have witnessed the sad saga of deposed Illinois governor Rod Blagojevich; nailed in a federal probe for putting President Obama’s vacate senate seat up for auction like an item on Ebay.
Political corruption in Illinois, especially Chicago, is hardly new. If they don’t average at least one major scandal a year something seems wrong and out of place. Illinois is now two for two in terms of recent governors being slam dunked via corruption probes.
Blagojevich may have reached an all time low in blatant audacity. And an all time high for being stupid enough to talk about it on the phone when he knew he was a target of a corruption probe. This was compounded by him making the rounds on all the national morning news shows to plead his case of innocence before and after he was impeached and booted from office. Why he did this, I’m not sure. It could be he actually believed the PR he was putting down. Or he could be laying the foundation for an insanity defense if his case goes to court. What he really succeeded in doing was to make himself an even bigger target for being lampooned on the late night talk shows, and political satire shows. I’m starting to think whatever he used on his hair to get that goofy hair style must have seeped down through his skull and caused serious brain damage.
I’m trying to think if any politician under investigation for corruption could behave more stupid than Blagojevich.

Picture if you will, Senator Billy Bob Jobobson, of the great state of Somewhere in the South, rushing his rotund figure into a ritzy Washington hotel suite accompanied by April Mayes, a shapely and comely young woman, who is also a undercover government operative.
“I feel great,” April beams. “I feel like dancing.”
She opens her large purse and pulls out a small camcorder.
“Tape me while I’m dancing, baby.”
“Sure darling.”
April hands the camcorder to Billy Bob. He sits on the edge of the bed and aims the camera at his date. April begins to dance about in a flirty manner. She shakes her hips wildly and raises the hem of her dress.
“I like it I like it ” shouts the senator.
April stops dancing. “Wooh. Now you have to dance for me while I film you.”
She moves over and takes the camera from Billy Bob.
“Little darling, you got me so worked up, I’ll have to catch my breath before I can try to do anything.”
“That’s okay. We can talk some. Let me cut the camera off.”
April places the camera on the dresser at an angle where the lense is facing Billy Boy. She pretends to cut it off, but really doesn’t.
“Baby, I’ve been reading in the paper about you being under investigation over taking gifts from lobbyists. Why are they saying all those awful, terrible things about you?”
“I’m a victim of a conspiracy. Calculating evil doers are trying to silence me.”
“That’s terrible. So terrible. Then you didn’t do what they said?”
“Well. I didn’t do anything wrong, little darling. It’s what politics are all about. You have to give something to get something. If a lobbyist gives me a few tickets to major events that doesn’t mean my vote on something would change. And if a lobbyist introduces me to a couple hot babes, before I met you of course, that doesn’t mean I would change my vote on a piece of legislation. And just because a lobbyist might steer me into a great real estate deal doesn’t mean I would vote against my constituents best interests.”
“Wow. You’re so smart. How did you get that way?”
“Oh, I don’t know, darling. It’s just the way I roll.”

It's Good to Be Worth Billions (especially if you need a bail out)

In this era of billion dollar bail outs of the banking industry, and the auto industry looking for such a deal, one thing is starting to be blatantly obvious to me. It’s good to have a billion dollar business. Forget the fact that the fearless leaders of your business have made bad decision after bad decision for a number of years, finally throwing the company deep into the red, and hopelessly unable to pay back any debt.
Such a scenario would surely drive a mere multi-million dollar business in bankruptcy, or doom a pitiful, only a gross in the thousands business, into complete close down.
Oh, but we can’t allow a bedrock industry to go under, so the government must step in and bail them out to the tune of even more billions of dollars.

Can you imagine Joe Businessman, CEO of a struggling right at a billion dollars company, on a busy big city street in route to a big bail out presentation. He uses his cell phone to check his company’s funds and makes a startling discovery. There is only 999,999,999 dollars in the account, one short of the highly coveted billion dollars.
Panic instantly sets in. If the company isn’t worth at least a billion the chances of obtaining a bail out drops like a rock. Joe checks all his pockets looking for a single dollar bill he could use to deposit in a nearby bank and get the company account up to a billion in time for the meeting. He has no such luck. He has only twenty-three cents in his pocket.
He figures he can get help from somebody on the street. Anybody on the street. He moves to a kindly looking elderly lady with white hair.
“Excuse me, ma’m. Do you have a dollar bill to spare?”
“A dollar bill. Hell no. I’m retired on a fixed income. I have to choose between eating and medicine. A well-dressed young buck like you should be offering me money. Say a hundred bucks.”
“I don’t. I don’t have that now.”
“Well I don’t have a damn dollar. So get lost, Armani boy ”
Joe couldn’t believe her reaction. Undaunted, he moves along the street until he spots a well-dressed man in his thirties leaving a cab carrying a briefcase. He heads toward an office building. Joe sees him as a sure donor. He approaches him.
“Excuse me, sir. Do you have a single dollar bill I can borrow from you. It’s a real emergency.”
The man stops, and then suddenly glares at Joe.
“It’s you. It’s you Is this a sick joke? After what you did to me.”
“Excuse me?”
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
“Should I?”
“I worked for your company. In accounting. You laid me off. I’ve been unemployed for six months. And you have the nerve to ask me for a dollar. I could strangle your ass.”
The man charges after his ex-boss. Joe turns and races away with the man hot on his heels. He is fearing for his life until the man trips and falls flat on his face.
Joe races around a corner and stops near an alley. That’s when he spots an unshaven homeless man, dressed in several shirts and winter boots, leaning against a building wall.
“What are you looking at?” snaps the homeless man.
“Nothing buddy. But I could use your help. If you have what I want.”
“And what do you want from a lowly homeless man like me?”
Joe moves in closer. “Just a single dollar bill. That’s all I need. One dollar bill.”
“I know times are tough. But why does a Armani wearing fool need a dollar bill?”
“I can’t go into that. But uh. I can make it worth your while. Look uh. Look uh.” Joe takes off his Rolex watch. “If you have a dollar bill I will give you my watch for it. A real Rolex.”
Joe holds the watch out so the homeless man can examine it.
“One dollar for this watch. You’re giving me a Rolex watch for one dollar. Is that it?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. We can do this.”
The homeless man searches about in his pockets until he locates a very wrinkled one dollar bill. He smooths it out and hands it to Joe.
A big smile comes to Joe’s face. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I appreciate it. I appreciate it so much.”
He gives the Rolex to the homeless man and then dances happily back up the street.
The homeless man looks closer at the Rolex.
“Is this a reality show? Or real life gone crazy? You can’t tell any more here in America.”

Michael Phelps is Pimp Daddy P

If you haven’t been on the planet Venus the last few days you probably know about the latest celeb scandal. The picture of Olympic swimming sensation, and designated all American boy, Michael Phelps, bonging away on some weed.
Besides the usual support or condemnation connected with such stories, the most interesting thing that has come out of it is some companies Phelps is a spokesman for have stood by him. In the world of media, no outlets are more wimpy and afraid of controversy than the major TV networks and corporate advertisers. Remember Magic Johnson losing endorsement when he announced he had the HIV virus, and Kobe Bryant losing out when he was accused of rape.
I suppose it helps Phelps that, although illegal, marijuana use has become quasi mainstream. Jay Leno routinely jokes about his band leader Kevin’s love of weed. A part of rapper Snoop Dogg’s persona is him being a notorious smoker of pot.

Here’s my flight of fancy. Suppose it comes out that Michael Phelps has a much darker side. I present you with Michael Phelps, Pimp Daddy P, an inner city pimp.
Picture if you will a long lanky white guy decked out in retro 1970s gear. A white wide-brimmed fur hat that matches his double- breasted white maxi length fur coat. A grey silk shirt, black bell bottomed pants, and a solid gold medallion complete the ensemble.
On the cold mean inner city streets a silver Caddie with a Rolls Royce grill and hood ornament glides down the street, and then parks near a corner.
Trixie, a shapely young woman in a bright red mini dress, white vinyl boots, and a pink trench coat, moves in the direction of the Caddie.
Michael Phelps, aka, Pimp Daddy P, pokes his head out of the window.
“Hey baby. Have you got something for me?”
“Yeah Daddy.”
Trixie reaches into her cleavage and removes a wad of bills. She hands them to Phelps. He makes a quick count.
“Girl, is this all you have for me?”
“Yeah baby. It was rough out there tonight.”
Phelps becomes instantly agitated. “Rough out there. Rough out there So I guess if it’s rough out there I can’t make my car payments. If it’s rough out there I can’t keep you in fine vines. If it’s rough out there I can’t pay my rent. Bitch, get back on the corner and bring me some money, or I’m putting my foot all the way up your you know what ”
Trixie turns and scurries away.
Phelps slams his hand across the steering wheel. “Damn It’s hard out here for a pimp. Even if you’re a Olympic gold medalist.”
The Caddie zips away into the night air like a silver ghost.

An Obama/ JFK Comparison

As President Barack Obama moves into his second week of being in office, and Caroline Kennedy recently took herself out of the running for senate seat vacated by new Secretary of State Hilary Clinton, I started to think about the similarities between the presidential runs of Barack Obama and John F. Kennedy.
Despite their runs being some forty-eight years apart, there are parallels that can be drawn. Both made their runs when they were in their forties, younger than the usual fifty-sixty range for most presidential candidates. Consequently, they were both young and vibrant with a great deal of charisma. They also had young and attractive wives that quickly became style and fashion icons; and pre-teen children that the country could embrace.
On the potential liability side, Kennedy was a Catholic at a time when all previous presidents had been white Anglo-Saxon Protestants.
Of course, Obama is African American . Jesse Jackson had been the only semi-serious contender for a major party nomination. And there have been only a handful of black senators and governors.
Kennedy was able to overcome partly because he was a member of a very wealthy, celebrated, and well-connected family. He also had the support of powerful Iris Catholic politicians like Chicago’s mayor Richard M. Daley. The element that probably pushed Kennedy over the top was his mastery of the relatively new medium of televison. In a series of television debates he shined above most other politicians due to his charisma and ad lib sense of humor. His Republican opponent, Vice President Richard Nixon, was the direct opposite; uncomfortable, flat, and unconvincing in front of a television camera. Many experts believed Kennedy’s performance in the debates was a major deciding factor in turning the tide of the election in his favor.
Barack Obama was propelled from an early in his term senator to a national figure by his rousing speech at the Democratic Convention. His best-selling books reinforced his message of change and coming together for a common cause. Like Kennedy, Obama took full advantage of an emerging technology. Obama extensively used the internet to get his message across. More importantly, he used the internet to raise millions of dollars to finance his campaign before primary victories gave him greater access to more traditional means of fund raising.
Coming into his presidency, Kennedy was faced with a growing cold war fraught with tensions over the proliferation of nuclear weapons, and their potential use, which escalated into the Cuban Missile Crisis. On the home front there was the more visible than ever civil rights movement that was gaining momentum through television coverage and the emergence in statue of Martin Luther King Jr.
Obama inherits two costly wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, and the ongoing threat of Mideast inspired terrorism. Domestically, there is the economic down turn that has spiraled into the housing market debacle, slumping auto industry, the resulting lay offs and rising unemployment. Not to mention inflated prices and the spending withdrawal by consumers.
Kennedy relied, and Obama will rely on his ability to inspire Americans to keep a positive frame of mind despite the trying times they are facing.
Finally, Kennedy was receptive to the goals of the escalating civil rights movement at a time when some blacks were leery of starting trouble, and a high percentage of whites would have favored a government and law enforcement crack down on civil rights demonstrations.
President Obama serves as a obvious source of pride and inspiration for African Americans of all ages. Even more so for senior citizens past the age of seventy, some who endured through the hard knocks and dangers of being active participants in the civil rights movement. Most suffered daily indignities, and the hovering threat of physical dangers in their efforts to provide for their families. Many never thought they would see the day when an African American would be elected President of the United States.