Armed To The Teeth

Last night I was struck by a TV ad from a local gun dealer. They proudly proclaimed, "Over 7,000 guns in stock!" 7,000? That got my brain to thinking, if a single gun dealer in a mid-sized American city has 7,000 guns in stock, how many frigging guns are there in America? The answer is, too damned many! Years ago, I finally figured out that the Cold War wasn't about war and deadly enemies at all, but about selling arms. The economy. Money. This realization didn't come about through a flash of economic/political brilliance, but through a flash of reality as I thought, while watching a pickup load of hunters head off into the woods, "There ain't no way the Russians, or anybody else, could ever invade this country. They'd get their asses shot off." Don’t get me wrong, I’m not opposed to people owning a firearm, I’ve got one myself. But how far is too far? Check this out: I’m confident that the readers of this blog would agree that things like machine guns and assault rifles should be outlawed. But those things aren’t the problem. They’re merely the symptom. The problem is, the all consuming American “rugged individualist” fantasy. “Here come ole Flat-top, he come moving up slowly…” It’s manifested in nearly every aspect of the American culture. Fat-ass clerks, dressed like bad-ass cowboys, on their Harleys. Football and everything about it. Home boys coping a ‘tude while tugging at their trousers. Skin-heads and all their tattoos and piercings. “He got ju ju eyeballs, he one spinal cracker. He say,I know you, you know me. One thing I can tell you is you got to be free. Come together, right now, over me.” Not one of these fuck-ups could make it as individualist, even if their lives depended on it. The scary thing is, unless we can somehow pull ourselves together as a society, we haven’t got a prayer. The question is, how can we do that?

The Art of Photography

I know, like me, many of you are photographers, or graphic artists, or simply appreciators of photography. Either way, you will enjoy this clip found at the NY Times. Video caption: The Times's Adam B. Ellick stumbles across an antique camera on the streets of Jalalabad, Afghanistan. The result is a passport photo in five minutes. Couldn't figure out how to embed this video but here's the link: http://video.nytimes.com/video/2009/09/18/world/1247464676793/the-ultimate-old-media.html

You Can't Make This Shit Up ... #3

Nepal Hit By Severe Goat Shortage! reports the BBC. The authorities in Nepal have ordered officials to find more goats for ritual slaughter ahead of the country's biggest religious festival of the year.

Officials say that there is a severe shortage of goats to offer as sacrifice in the capital Kathmandu.

The reason for the shortage is unclear, but experts say it is mostly due to demand outstripping supply.

They say that it may be because China has this year exported fewer goats to Nepal, resulting in far higher prices.

The Nepal Food Corporation has now ordered officials to travel to the countryside and buy goats to be brought to Kathmandu ahead of the festival of Dashain on 19 September.

Goats are traditionally slaughtered during the 15-day event to appease Durga, an important Hindu goddess. Isn't Nepal one of those spiritually enlightened countries we're supposed to admire and feel sorry for?

7 Most Inappropriate Children's Toys

I ran across these on the Huffington Post this morning and decided to share them. No doubt, of all the Great Satans out there, money remains the worldwide king.

I think I'll give one of these to my granddaughters. I want to be sure they can always get a job.

Spanish toymaker Berjuan released a doll that allows children to "breast-feed" their babies. A girl wears a special halter top with flowers instead of nipples that cause the baby to make sucking sounds and move its mouth. The tagline for the toy reads, "Because you shouldn't have to wait until you have breasts before you start breastfeeding your baby."

This one is so grotesque I don't even know where to start.

"My child has herpes!" If that's something you'd like to yell without your child actually being infected with a venereal disease then these plushies are for you...you weirdo.

Another one of those job security things.

Finally! Baby stilettos have hit the market to give those unsightly flab-filled baby calves some lift. They will be useful for the girls who loved the pole-dancing doll and moved on to this.

The GR8 TaT2 Maker by Spin Master Toys promises an "easy-to-use tattoo maker kit...[that] creates realistic, washable designs with dramatic effects." If only there was a plushy for Hepatitis.

SmackDown LowDown

Professional wrestling is a source of constant amazement to me. I just don’t get it. Anyone can see it’s just a show but the fans are fanatics and will whip you ass if you try to point that out to them. (BTW, if you haven’t seen the film The Wrestler, with Mickey Rourke, check it out. It’s great.)

The one man whom I respect and love as much as anyone in my life is my maternal grandfather. An graduate engineer of Texas A&M University when a college degree really meant something. A senior engineer on the Panama Canal. The man who introduced me to Theosophy. Granddad was a proper gentleman. Always dressed for dinner. Was honest to a fault. He would drive to the store to give back the nickel extra the clerk had mistakenly given him in change.

To my eternal consternation, granddad was a wrestling fan. And so was my maternal grandmother, Nanny. There could not be two people more different than those two. But the two of them would get together and watch wrestling, glued to the tiny 13” black and white TV, and hoot and holler like a couple of kids. You ain’t seen nothing until you’ve seen a pair of 90-year-old wrestling fans.

My dad once tried to point out to them that it was fake and nearly got his head bitten off. From that point forward, we just enjoyed the old folks enjoying themselves.

Now I know the skinny on professional wrestling. In a previous post, I mentioned that I was once the director of a large agricultural festival. As director, I was in charge of booking the entertainment. Throughout the year I would get phone calls from wrestling promoters wanting me to stage a wrestling match. I wanted to do it but the board of directors strictly prohibited it. They had tried it in the past and the result was the wrestling fans spilling out of the arena, into the carnival midway, and starting fights with every carney they could find. The last straw was when they had to call in the state highway patrol to help bring it under control.

But in my conversations with the promoters, I would ask some pointed questions, like, Q: How long does a match last? A: As long as you want. Q: How many matches are there? A: As many as you want. Q: Can I decide who wins? A: Sure, just let me know ahead of time.

When I was working for public television, we produced a nightly news and entertainment show hosted by Monroe (pronounced, Mon-row). Monroe had recently been to a wrestling match and proclaimed, on air, the whole thing a disgusting sham. Just so happened a local wrestler, Dusty Rhodes, heard the broadcast and took great exception to that assessment. Within minutes, Dusty had barged his way into the station and onto the set of a live television broadcast with the proclaimed intent of separating Monroe’s head from the rest of his body.

Dusty charged after Monroe who, naturally, fled his chair and started running around the anchor’s desk with Dusty, screaming at the top of his lungs, in hot pursuit. Someone called the cops and they got there in the nick of time as Monroe was quickly running out of steam. That show got the highest ratings of any other show we ever did.

I don’t know if the whole thing was staged or not. You couldn’t tell from the look on Monroe’s face. If he was faking it, he deserved an Academy Award.

Whatever else it is, pro wrestling is big business. The stars make some serious money. You don’t have to look far online to find tons of action figures and wrestling paraphernalia, including masks and full uniforms of your favorite troglodyte.

People are crazy about it, no doubt. But I still don’t get it.

Never Give A Sucker An Even Break

I have always admired people who are creative enough to pull off a good practical joke. And I never cease to be amazed by how gullible most people are, including myself.

People are so fascinated by monsters I believe we could balance the national budget by charging admission to the "Secret Alien Space Ship Center" somewhere in the Arizona desert. My favorite deception was pulled off by Oscar Hammerstein, Sr. This story comes from a Will Rogers biography, himself no slouch when it comes to tricks, and is true. Over a number of years Hammerstein owned a series of night clubs in New York. In one, he placed a goldfish bowl full of water on a table and charged people $1 to see the Invisible Fish. Believe It Or Not, hundreds of people paid their $1 to see the fish that wasn't there. But here's the real story... Hammerstein thought it would be a good idea during the summer to open a roof-top night club. He thought it would be much cooler up there and as a result, the place would be a hit. He was already heavily invested in the club before he realized that it was actually hotter on the roof than in the street. He knew people would quickly figure that out and he would lose his shirt. His solution? He heated the elevator. That way, people experienced great relief when they stepped out into the "cool" rooftop club. The club was a hit. But my favorite practical joke was played on someone where I used to work. It was really clever, and funny as hell. At the time, I was working for the local public television station which was housed in an old building that was once an automobile dealership. This was back in the days when public television was still primarily inhabited by media outlaws. Needing new digs, the station launched a big capital campaign to build new studios on the riverfront, at the site of some old oil storage tanks. Everything was going just fine, the money was being raised, plans drawn, construction about to begin. The station’s photographer was a big, teddy-bear of a man who loved to gossip and was always poking his nose into other people's business. We called him Mother Foto. Foto was an overweight vegetarian. He’s the only person I’ve ever met who got fat by eating vegetarian junk food. Stuff like baked potatoes smothered in butter, sour cream and cheese, fried cheese sticks, french fries and the like.

Somehow, one of the guys at the station got his hands on some letterhead from Texaco Oil company. How he got this idea I’ll never know, but it was inspirational.

He typed a letter on the letterhead addressed to the station's president, from the Executive Vice President of Texaco Oil. He made a copy of the letter and left the it where he knew nosy Foto would spot it. The gist of the letter was something like this... It's been a pleasure working with you and as a show of our appreciation, we would like to leave one of the oil tanks on the site of your new studio for your use and suggest that since they are light proof, they make excellent dark rooms. Of course, there is always the risk of an explosion. Well, Foto hit the ceiling. How could anyone even consider risking his life in an exploding dark room!? He straight away sent a letter to the Executive Vice President of Texaco, asking how he could even consider such a thing and demanding a full explanation or "you will hear from my attorney." One afternoon the station president, Fred, is sitting at his desk and the phone rings. It was the EVP of Texaco Oil wanting to know what the hell was going on down there. Fred, thinking it was some kind of joke, hung up on him. The phone rang again. This time it was the EVP and the corporate attorney. Of course, Fred immediately called Foto into the office to get to the bottom of this. The out wash was a huge laugh shared by all. The Texaco EVP thought it was the funniest thing he had ever heard. Unfortunately, Foto wasn't as amused, but he took it well, which made it even better.

I still laugh when I think about it. If you have one to share, please do.

Mr. C and Governor Wallace

I have twice met Governor George Wallace. On the occasion of our second meeting, he did something I have never forgotten. My first job right out of college was Assistant Manager of a small city chamber of commerce in south Alabama. It wasn't planned, or even given much thought. It just happened because I needed a job and a friend who happened to be the executive of the Tallahassee chamber turned me on to it. Concurrent with my chamber duties, I was also the executive director of a large agricultural festival held each October. It was peanut country and the harvest was something to celebrate. I say it was a large festival because, it was a large festival. Attracting around 100,000 paid admissions, big parade with floats, televised beauty pageant, national entertainers and a terrific carnival midway. Many good tales came out of that experience which I will share as we go along, but tonight, I want to talk about George Wallace and his amazing ability. Governor Wallace came to town to be the Grand Marshall of our parade. This would have been around '71 or so and he had already made two or three runs at President and was "famous." As all governors do, he arrived with a retinue of followers and body guards and of course, local officialdom all turned out to greet him. The festival threw a luncheon and I, being the Executive Director, got to meet him and even sat at the head table. At the far end of the head table. Almost off of the head table altogether. I emphasize this because it illustrates that basically, I was nobody. Governor Wallace was very cordial and took the time to speak personally with everyone who approached him. The people of Alabama loved him. Not because of his segregationist policies or because he stood up to the "Yankees", but because he was a damned good governor and ran a tight ship. Alabama prospered under George Wallace. About two years later, the citizens of our county got into a pissing match with the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers and resolved to go to Washington to settle the issue. Gov. Wallace offered us his airplane for the trip, a modest turbo-prop that seated about a dozen people. We all piled into a couple of cars and drove up to Montgomery where we were to meet the plane. Governor Wallace invited us all to his office to see us off and to tell us that he had arranged for a meeting in Washington with our congressman, both Alabama U.S. Senators and the commanding general of the Corps of Engineers. (The man could get things done.) Before we left, he personally approached each person in our delegation, shook their hand, and chatted with those he knew, which was everyone but me. When he got to me I took his hand and started to introduce myself but he stopped me. He held up his finger, thought for a moment, smiled, looked me in the eye and said, "Charleston, right?" Now I don't know about you, but I can be introduced to someone and forget their name within thirty seconds. How he remembered mine, or even me for that matter, I'll never know, but it darn sure impressed me. There is no better compliment you can pay a person than to remember their name and it's something I have tried to learn my entire life, with little success. That day, Governor George Wallace made me feel like a million bucks. That's a talent you have to admire. I ran across this video and thought you might enjoy it. Things ain't changed all that much Miss Daisey.

We Don't Need No Stinking Recession!

It's true that in hard times people party hardy. Hemlines go up, beer sales go up, the entertainment industry thrives. People want to forget about their troubles and live life to the fullest. To prove that he has true leadership abilities, President Obama sets an example for all of us to follow this holiday weekend. It's Labor Day. The day set aside to recognize and reward those hard working Amerikans who make it all happen. I say we follow the president's example and make it a weekend to remember.

It's the Environment Stupid

How much intelligence does it take to recognize and accept that mankind is destroying the planet? What will it take to seriously get our attention? Will it be too late? If you are a global warming non-believer, try this... Stand on any asphalt parking lot on a hot day. After a couple of minutes, walk onto a nearby grassy area. Quite a difference huh? Now walk from the grassy area to a tree-shaded area. Viola! Even more difference. Apart from carbon dioxide emissions and chlorofluorocarbons and the like, mankind is warming up the planet simply by paving it over and clear-cutting it. Multiply that parking lot by hundreds of millions of parking lots, rooftops, roads and cleared fields world-wide and you get the picture, at least part of it. The earth shivered and caused a tsunami on the other side of the world that killed 200,000 people. Two-thirds of the soldiers the U.S. lost in WWII. It merited about a weeks worth of headlines. But that's OK. It's way the hell over there and who cares about the pygmies in New Guinea anyway. An earthquake in China kills 50,000 people and it's good for two days headlines and a sidebar. So what? We kill that many in traffic accidents every year. Here's the deal, you ain't seen nothing yet. Far and away, the greatest threat to us... you, me, our children, our grandchildren... is environmental degradation. A recent computer model predicting the effects of global warming on the U.S. show the most severe effect will be in the heart of the nation, the Great Plains... Nebraska, Kansas, Oklahoma, Missouri. The bread basket of the world. Scientist predict the ensuing droughts will make the dust bowl of the 30's look like a tropical paradise. That ought to drive the price of bread up a little. But wait, there's more. Nostracharleston Predicts: Contrary to popular belief, the world is not round, at least not perfectly round. It's sort of squat. It bulges in the middle along the Equator, the effects of centrifugal force and billions of tons of ice collected at the north and south poles. The ice is melting. Those billions of tons are being redistributed across the face of the planet. As the weight is removed from the poles, the earth will flex and shed a little of its midriff bulge. That means all of the tectonic plates will have to readjust. Kind of like going to the chiropractor and getting everything moved around a bit. While that's going on, there will be earthquakes and volcanoes the likes of which mankind has never seen. Rising oceans, abetted by tsunamis, will wreak devastation and death on a biblical scale. Apart for blowing the tops off of mountains and reining hellfire on the surrounding inhabitants, volcanic eruptions will spew trillions of tons of sulfuric ash into the atmosphere virtually blocking the sun, causing massive crop failures and turning rain into a sulfuric acid bath. The earth as we know it will be no more. Sounds like fun? Could be it's past time to pay attention.