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I ggot gscrewed gin gthe gspelling gbee.
May 24, 2007I'm getting ready to go on vacation and wont' be back blogging with you again until Tuesday, June 5.
With the national spelling bee coming up, I am repeating a blog I wrote last year. It is one of my favorites.
If you need a Nick Fix from now until June 5, just click on one of my old blogs. There are almost 250 out there now.
See you on June 5.
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Although you probably can't tell it by reading 21st Century Nicky, I used to be a pretty good speller.
No, I never made it to the big dance in Washington, D.C., but I made it to the study hall stage at Reagan Junior High School. In the spring of 1960, I was second place in the Reagan spelling bee.
Some Barbie doll won it.
I remember at the end, when it came down to Nicky vs. Barbie, she tried to distract me by crossing her legs and giving me a small glimpse of adorable flesh.
I sat there trying to go over all the possible hard words in my mind, but what kept popping into my mind would not be found in my little Scripps spelling book.
No, Iwantolickyouallover was not in the book.
Neither was Pleaseletmeseeyourunderwear.
I became so distracted that I missed on a four-letter word.
Now, most teen-age boys are very affluent in four-letter word spellings.
But Barbie won when I spelled "gnat" -- "nat."
Heck, I could have spelled Antidisestablishmentarianism that day, but the little blonde teaser beat me because I missed "gnat."
Why the hell is a "g" in "gnat?"
I mean we don't spell "cat" "gcat."
We don't spell "rat" "grat."
"It's a silent letter," my teacher told me.
I know about silent letters.
I have one in my last name -- the "h" in "Gholson" -- and it has haunted me all my life.
"How do you pronounce your name," I am always asked.
"Just leave out the 'h,' " I always answer.
Why didn't the people who came up with our name leave out the stupid "h?"
Although I was almost a champion speller in my day, I'm not going to watch the spelling bee finals on TV tonight.
Just don't think my old gheart can take such excitement.
P.S.: Thanks to Frances Tate for helping me with the spelling of "Antidisestablishmentarianism" in this blog. I couldn't even get close enough to google it.
Posted by at 7:40 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
"24'" un-grand finale was lame
May 23, 2007The on-line poll quizzed “24� fans on “What was your favorite part in the season finale?�
(A.) Jack saying goodbye to Audrey.
(B.) Karen and Buchanan are pardoned.
(C.) Chloe tells Morris she is pregnant.
(D.) Jack stands alone overlooking the ocean not knowing what’s next.
My answer:
(A.) Are you kidding?
(B.) Who gives a rat’s ass?
(C.) Just what the world needs -- another alcoholic daddy.
(D.) If Season 7 is not going to be any better than Season 6 -- JUMP.
The two-hour season finale of my favorite TV show was lame.
It was a like a combination of Spiderman, West Wing and Sleeping Beauty.
Remember Season 1 when they killed Jack’s wife at the end? Now that’s a big-time finish.
The grand finale has been slowly going downhill since them, but this was the absolute worst.
We all knew that Jack was going to save the U.S. from World War III and also save his nephew from his daddy. That’s just what Jack does.
In hindsight, I wish they had not killed off daddy.
He was a really good villain and added to a bad plot this season.
But we didn’t see him actually die -- did we?
Bill Buchanan came out a hero in the end. Good for him.
He deserves a happy ending after having a bitch for a wife.
Chloe is pregnant. But who is the daddy?
Jack was in China. Couldn’t be him. (although that would really be cool)
Wasn’t me. I had a vasectomy.
Morris?
Do you really want cool Chloe to have a baby that looks like Morris?
But the worst part of this un-grand finale was Jack sitting at Audrey’s bedside.
Puke!
When did he fall for this chick?
Wasn’t she married and still in love with her husband and just about ready to get back with him WHEN JACK KILLED HIM?
And who would want James Heller for a daddy-in-law?
Forget Audrey. Go find Marilyn.
We know these two did the nasty sometime in the past.
Maybe Josh is not Jack’s nephew after all.
Maybe Josh is Jack Jr.
And that final scene by the ocean.
They must have had two minutes to kill.
The countdown to January 2008 has begun.
That’s when Season 7 premiers on Fox.
Hopefully, it will be a lot better than 6.
Posted by at 8:20 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
There's an answer for pessimism; But you may be too pessimistic to believe it
May 21, 2007“Pessimism at record high in U.S.�
The banner headline on Page 1 of the paper today is an attention-getter.
A recent Associated Press poll indicates that only 25 percent of Americans surveyed believe out country is headed in the right direction.
Personally, I am surprised that the number is that high.
Even though we are blessed to live in the greatest country in the world, it is gloom and doom almost anywhere you look.
Just look at the first three pages of this paper.
Right under the pessimism story is a headline that says “Vernon man killed in Iraq.�
Then under that is a photo of price signs at a gas station in Chicago reading “$3.71; $3.81 and $3.91.� Under it is a story telling us that there is no relief in sight at the gas pump.
Turn to page 3 and the top story is about how a birth father put his 2-month-old daughter in a microwave.
The birth mother says it is not his fault.
The devil made him do it.
Then below that is a story on how former President Jimmy Carter is calling George W. Bush’s administration the worst in history.
Only a few years ago, this old peanut farmer was considered the worst president of my lifetime.
Bush is so bad that even Carter can point fingers at him -- and nobody can really disagree.
So what do we do?
Elect a new president in 2008.
That may end the pessimism for a while, but will it end the problem?
So who has the answer?
May I suggest the Old Testament?
2 Chronicles: 7:14.
.
“If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.�
Don’t believe that?
Then you will always be a pessimist.
Posted by at 8:51 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Hell can't be too hot for this guy
May 18, 2007I would like to be at the Pearly Gate when Christopher Hitchens arrives.
I’d like to see the look in his eyes when this idiot stares into the eyes of God Almighty.
The conversation might go something like this:
GOD: AREN’T YOU THE PERSON WHO WROTE THE BOOK “GOD IS NOT GREAT?�
Hitchens: uh, uh, uh, uh, well, well, yes, buuuut……
GOD: AND AREN’T YOU THE GUY WHO ONCE CALLED MOTHER TERESA “THE GHOUL OF CALCUTTA?�
Hitchens: well, I uh, well, uh, uh, uh
GOD; WAS IT NOT YOU WHO SAID WHEN JERRY FALWELL DIED THAT “IT’S A PITY THERE ISN’T A HELL FOR HIM TO GO TO.�
Hitchens: uh, what I really meant was………….
GOD: WELL, GUESS WHAT MR. HITCHENS. YOU WERE WRONG.
Waving goodbye, God points to the elevator.
Personally, I was not the biggest fan of Jerry Falwell.
I believed his message but thought the messenger got in the way of the message.
I think all preachers of the Gospel should often step back and examine whether they are getting too big for their britches. If you catching yourself signing autographs -- you probably are.
Jerry Falwell got too big for his britches, and I am not just talking about the fact that he weighed about 600 pounds.
But I still believe Falwell hated the sin and loved the sinner.
I think people like Hitchens just hate.
On the day that Falwell died, CNN put this idiot on the air to get the atheistic reaction.
Hitchens called Falwell “an ugly little charlatan� and “a little toad.�
He said that people like Falwell “should be out in the street, shouting and hollering with a cardboard sign and selling pencils from a cup.�
Ain’t freedom of speech great?
This dumb ass Englishman has only been a naturalized citizen of the United States now for about a month -- yet he can go on CNN and spout out hate against a man who preached the Gospel for more than 50 years.
Back at the Pearly Gate, Hitchens gets inside the elevator and notices the smiling elevator operator looks a whole lot like Jerry Falwell. A whole lot skinnier, but there is quite a resemblance.
“GOING DOWN,’ God orders. “GIVE HIM THE FURNACE NEXT TO MADALYN MURRAY O’HAIR.�
“OR MR. HITCHENS, WOULD YOU PRFER THE ONE NEXT TO MR. HITLER?�
Posted by at 8:26 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
If you don't know Bo, you don't know Diddley
May 17, 2007You can’t judge an apple by looking at a tree.
You can’t judge honey by looking at the bee.
You can’t judge a daughter by looking at the mother.
You can’t judge a book by looking at the cover.
Those are lyrics from my favorite Bo Diddley song.
If you don’t know Bo Diddley, then you don’t know diddley.
He was the singer my daddy wouldn’t let me listen to.
He was rhythm and blues before the white man could spell R&B.
He was Elvis before Elvis.
He was rock and roll before there was rock and roll.
Oh can’t you see.
Oh you misjudge me.
I look like a farmer,
But I’m a lover.
You can’t judge a book by looking at the cover.
Bo Diddley was also the first black man to ever be asked to perform at a prom here in Wichita Falls.
The Senior Class of 1963 at Wichita Falls High School had him play its senior dance.
That was five years before the integration of our schools.
You can’t judge sugar by looking at the cane.
You can’t judge a woman by looking at her man.
You can’t judge a sister by looking at her brother.
You can’t judge a book by looking at the cover.
One of the really influential performers in the rise of rock and roll music, Bo Diddley was the first black man to ever appear on the popular “Ed Sullivan Show.�
He was supposed to just come out and sing “16 Tons,� a hit song by Tennessee Ernie Ford.
But Bo added a little “soul� before “soul� was allowed on television.
He sang his R&B hit “Bo Diddley�
It really pissed Ed Sullivan off
“He said I was one of first colored boys to ever double cross him,� Bo once said. “He said that I wouldn’t last six months.�
Wrong Ed.
Bo Diddley has outlasted the Ed Sullivan Show 36 years and has outlasted Ed himself 33 years.
Right now Bo is in bad shape.
The 78-year-old singer/songwriter had a stroke while putting on a concert in Iowa this past weekend and is now in ICU at an Omaha, Neb., hospital.
Tests reportedly indicated that the stroke affected the left side of his brain, impairing his speech and speech recognition.
You can’t judge a fish by lookin’ in the pond.
You can’t judge right from looking at the wrong.
You can’t judge one by looking at the other.
You can’t judge a book by looking at the cover.
Get well soon, Bo.
Posted by at 8:27 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Two more years! But not for you, Daddy Dearest
May 16, 2007With only two hours left in the longest day ever, “24� is making news.
First of all, my favorite TV show will be around for at least two more years.
Although the show seems to be losing its edge here in its sixth season, Kiefer Sutherland’s contract runs through 2009 and it has been reported that FOX has ordered season 7 and a season 8.
But, to quote the great Dave Barry:
“Did they also order a plot?�
Also, if you watched the Republican debate last night -- and God, I hope you had better things to do -- you may have heard Jack Bauer’s name mentioned.
When one of the candidates whom I have never heard of and a guy who has no chance --- Tom Tancredo -- was asked what he would do if he was president and there was a nuclear attack on our country.
The Colorado representative answered with something like: “I’d like to call Jack Bauer.�
Well, “Tom Who?� Jack is too busy to take your call.
He has to save his nephew -- even if it means starting World War III.
Personally, I don’t think the kid is worth it, but you know how those Bauers are -- blood is thicker than water with them.
Just a few hours ago, Jack was torturing his brother. Then his Daddy killed the brother.
Then Daddy kidnapped his grandson and put a gun to his head. Then Daddy has Jack on his knees with a gun pointed at his head.
Wonder what Thanksgiving is like with this family.
In the first few minutes of this week’s episode, Jack and his CTU friends kill all of the Chinese gang that took over their building last week -- well, all except the ones who took Josh away.
Then Jack and his pals track down Cheng and Josh, kill a bunch of other Chinese guys and rescue the kid. But Cheng gets away.
Meanwhile back in Lisa’s bed, the Russian spy/boyfriend is taking his time getting his jollies.
Finally ------ and I mean FINALLY -- he rolls off Lisa.
Then those two go from making whoopee to Ali-Frazier.
Lisa starts picking up stuff -- including a lamp -- and hitting him with it. But the guy can take a punch. He wrestles her to the ground and is choking the crap out of her when the good guys FINALLY arrive.
Lisa goes to the hospital with brain damage.
Spy/boyfriend calls his Russian friends and lies to them, but they are smarter than that and tell the VP that they’re going to start shooting in two hours if he doesn’t get that all-important circuit board from the Chinese.
But the Chinese no longer have it. Daddy Bauer does. And he negotiates a deal with the VP to give it back if he can have his grandson.
The show ends with Doyle grabbing Josh and flying off with him in a helicopter while other CTU agents hold back Jack.
That sets up the final 2-hour conclusion next Monday night.
I’m betting the season ends with Jack killing his old man.
Didn’t this day start with Jack killing his good friend Curtis to save some terrorist’s ass?
Well, now I think he will kill Daddy Dearest to save little Josh.
The kid loses his daddy and his granddaddy in the same day, but gains a loving, mama-humping uncle.
Tell me this ain’t great FAMILY entertainment.
Jack, Marilyn and Josh. Bring back daughter Kim, and we've got a 21st century version of "Father Knows Best."
Posted by at 8:24 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Grand Funk in the Falls; How cool is that?
May 15, 2007When I saw who is coming to FallsFest this year, my first reaction was:
“Are they still alive?�
I first heard Grand Funk Railroad in my hippy days -- at the Texas International Pop Festival in 1969.
It was a Woodstock-like event at a race track in Lewisville that was put on just two weeks after Woodstock.
The headliners were Janis Joplin and a virtually unknown British band named Led Zeppelin.
They were paid the most -- $10,000 each.
Santana. B.B. King, Chicago Transit Authority, Ten Years After, B.B. King and others were paid a whole lot less.
A band from Michigan calling itself Grand Funk Railroad got nothing.
But the people putting on the festival told them they could perform if they did it for free and paid their own expenses.
They stole the show.
They were better than Joplin.
A heck of a lot better than Zeppelin.
Not long after Texas, the rest of the world discovered Grand Funk Railroad.
Although never a favorite of the critics who called them “the loudest rock and rock band in the world,� Grand Funk Railroad sold more than 25 million records and played to sold-out arenas all over the world.
In 1971, they sold out Shea Stadium in New York in less than 72 hours -- breaking the Beatles’ record.
I last saw them in 1970 or 1971 in Houston, doing a tour with Bloodrock.
And now I get to see them again, right here in Hooterville Falls.
This is a pretty big deal because the band now only does about 30 concerts a year and still plays to crowds of 20,000-plus.
Two original band members -- Don Brewer (vocals; drums) and Mel Schacher (bass) -- are still there. And they have added former Kiss led guitarist Bruce Kulick; former .38 Special vocalist Max Carl and keyboard player Timothy Cashion.
Mark Sept. 29 on your calendar.
Grand Funk in the Falls.
I will most certainly be there.
Posted by at 8:42 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)
Superman wasn't the weirdest newspaper reporter
May 14, 2007While being interviewed by Channel 6 last week, the reporter asked why I chose the newspaper business as a career.
I answered: “If it’s good enough for Superman, it’s good enough for me.�
I’m not sure what kind of reporter Clark Kent was, but even his habit of changing clothes in a telephone booth wouldn’t make him stranger than some of the characters I have worked with here at the Times Record News the past 35 years.
We once had a guy who never changed clothes.
This reporter came to work every day wearing what I swear were the same white shirt and black slacks.
He lived in a small trailer parked on a vacant lot between 8th and 9th on Ohio Street -- what was Skid row when I was a kid. Every day when he came to work, he stopped off in the men’s restroom right beside the back door and shaved and washed up.
When the reporter replaced him moved into his desk, he found one large drawer full of half pint whiskey bottles.
And then there was this big-breasted girl that we once hired to work the police beat.
Some guy invited her to join the co-ed softball team, and she agreed to play.
“What’s your best position,� he asked.
“Missionary,� she answered.
Most reporters live from paycheck to paycheck -- that’s just a way of life in my business.
But there are some who can’t quite make to the next paycheck.
One guy had a habit of borrowing money from a comrade about two to three days before pay day so he could buy a couple six-packs.
He always paid back the loans, but it was still rather annoying.
One week, a guy told him he didn’t have any cash but would lend him the money if he could take a check.
He took the check and cashed it at a nearby liquor store, where the guy behind the counter got a real belly laugh. In the bottom left corner of the check marked “For,� the lender had written “sexual services.�
It didn’t stop the guy from asking for loans.
Finally, there was a sports writer that became a newsroom legend.
He was sent to Austin one year to cover the state track meet but never filed a story.
Nobody knew what happened to him until about a week later when he showed up back at the office.
He had cashed his expense check and gone to Nuevo Laredo instead of Austin.
He never worked here as a sports writer again, but guess what?
Later he came back and worked on the news desk.
One night, he got really angry about a key sticking on his typewriter.
So he picked up the typewriter over his head and threw it into the trash can.
The next morning, the managing editor was on his knees in front of the trash can trying to find all of the parts and put the typewriter back together again.
He would rather do that than have to tell Rhea Howard he needed money to buy a new typewriter.
Posted by at 8:44 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Hug your mama, I wish I could hug mine
May 10, 2007I always get kind of sentimental at this time of year.
That’s because I have always been a Mama’s boy.
And, boy, do I miss my Mama.
She has been gone for almost 44 years.
I was only 16 – a month before the start of my senior year in high school – when Mama was killed.
She was only 35.
Mama wasn’t the June Cleaver type mother.
She was young and liked to party.
She drank cold beer and sometimes gin and tonic.
She loved to go dancing on Saturday night.
She wore short shorts back when the churches told us that all women who wore short shorts were headed straight to hell.
Mama always had a job, something most women didn’t do back in those days.
She was the best damn waitress in Wichita Falls. Don’t believe me, go out to Pioneer on Southwest Parkway and ask Mary Peeler what kind of waitress her old friend Freddie used to be.
Mary and Mama worked together at the old Marchman Hotel coffee shop. They were also really good friends.
Mama also liked sports, especially baseball and football.
She also introduced me to my first love – Marilyn Monroe.
I was a really young kid when she took me to see the movie “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes.�
I fell in love with Marilyn that night.
Marilyn died young.
Mama and I cried.
A year later Mama died.
I cried alone.
I’m not for sure, but Mama had probably been drinking the night she died. I told you she liked to party, and one of her friends had a wedding shower out at Lake Kickapoo. Doubt if those girls were drinking Kool Aid.
Driving home late that night on Highway 79, two cars crashed head on.
The driver of the 1961 Chevy Impala – my Mama -- died instantly. I was told the sudden impact slammed her head into the windshield and broke her neck.
I never got to say goodbye.
Mama never got to see her two grandchildren or her great grandson.
I believe there’s a Heaven and one day we will see each other again. And Tommy, Christy and Nicholas will see the grandma they never knew.
But on this Sunday, once again, I will have to wear a white rose again on Mother’s Day.
Then sometime that afternoon, I will drive to Hope Cemetery in Henrietta and stand by the small marble tombstone and stare at the words I have stared at so many times before.
Freda Gresham
Born: Sept. 5, 1927
Died: Aug. 2, 1963
Give your mama a big hug on Sunday.
I sure wish I could hug mine.
Nick G
Posted by at 3:02 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
One 'mother' who's not worth celebrating
When I was a kid, it was a custom to wear a rose at church on Mother’s Day.
If you mama was alive, you wore a red rose.
If she was dead, you wore a white one.
I’m not sure if anyone does that any more.
But if they did, I wonder what kind of rose my kids would wear.
\
Do they make black roses?
What if you just wore the thorns?
There must be some way to tell everyone you have a really crappy mother.
My kids certainly did.
Now I know I have caught hell in these blogs for calling my ex-wives bad names.
So today I want to let you know that of the three exes that I have, two are wonderful mothers.
The other one is a selfish bitch.
And the really bad thing about that is that one is the birth mother of my two kids.
She deserted them when my son was 13 and my daughter was 10.
I was in Oklahoma City covering the Olympic Festival on July 29 when she lied to them, left them with strangers and ran off to Oregon to live with an old boyfriend.
I did my best as a single parent to raise them, but it’s tough with the job I have.
Tommy is now 31 and Christy is 28.
I am so proud of the people they became.
Not perfect -- but Dad wasn’t either.
Over the last 18 years, they have both tried to love their birth mom, but she has done everything she could to make that impossible.
So they understandably still have scars from being abandoned by the woman who should have loved them more than anything on this earth.
My daughter let her feelings out in a MySpace blog this week.
She is pissed off, and she should be.
She tried to keep in contact with her birth mom, even though the bitch quit sending them cards or gifts many years ago.
Then two Christmases ago, she and her brother sent Christmas cards to the woman, who got angry because they did not write “Love� on them and left this response on the answering machine.
"If you do not love me then I have no time for you. I only have what time in my life that is left for people that love me. If you do not love me then do not bother calling me back.�
Now, remember this is a “mother� talking to the two kids she deserted.
In her blog, Christy said:
“This was one of many cards and presents I had sent her for several years. Every year I put my brother's name on everything I sent. I did not forget a birthday or Mother's Day or anything dating back to when I was 16 and able to do these things. She seemed to begin to drown in financial misery when I was 18. No cards or gifts as well expected when you are broke. I never questioned that. I never cried about that. I only got upset the first birthday she did not call.�
My daughter has gone through some tough times recently, but she came out of it really well and I am so proud of her for that.
But though it all, she had no real mother to talk to.
So you can see as Mother’s Day is approaching why she might be bitter.
Heck, I’m bitter for her.
But we will celebrate motherhood together on Sunday.
My almost 4-year-old grandson -- whom his paternal grandmother has never seen -- has a great mother.
Posted by at 8:43 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Death is too high a price to pay for sex
May 9, 2007Chivalry is dead.
And so is Milo.
I am a guy, so I know what stupid things a guy will do to get a girl.
But die?
Don’t you think that’s a bit much?
Milo has been wanting to get into Nadia’s pants for the past 20 hours.
And, last night as the clock ticked down to 3 a.m. on the sixth season of “24,� he paid the ultimate price for his lust.
He took a bullet right between the eyes.
“Who’s in charge here?� Zhou -- the leader of Cheng’s Chinese street gang -- asks after the gang takes over CTU.
At that time, I would have been pointing 10 fingers toward Nadia.
But what does Milo do?
He raises his hand and steps forward.
Zhou shoots him right in the forehead.
Milo drops dead.
Later on Zhou discovers that Nadia is really the person in charge.
But, he, too must want inside her pants.
Instead of putting a bullet in her head, he lets her walk away.
Back in Washington, we are given another bra and belly shot of lusty Lisa.
Too bad it wasn’t her that Milo had a crush on.
Lisa is easy.
Before I stop this sex talk, there was also a scene this week where Marilyn Bauer -- Jack’s sister-in-law -- promises Jack she will always be there for him when this is all over.
Wouldn’t all of us guys be so lucky to have such a wonderful family!
Back to Los Angeles.
We learn that Cheng has taken over the CTU command center in order to get Josh Bauer -- Jack’s nephew.
That’s because Daddy Bauer has returned to the show.
We learn that Philip Bauer -- aka Stretch Cunningham from “All in the Family� -- is repairing the circuit board for the nuclear trigger than the Chinese got from Jack.
Daddy Dearest tells Cheng that he will give it to him when he gets his grandson.
Now not many hours ago, Grandpa -- who had already killed one of his sons today -- had a gun pointed at his grandson’s head.
What could he possibly want with this kid?
I doubt he wants to take him to a Dodgers game.
Stay tuned. We’re down to the three final hours.
Posted by at 8:28 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Calvin and the Queen: An odd couple
May 8, 2007It was a white-tie dinner, and Calvin Borrel didn’t own a white tie.
Will white socks do?
The Cajun who grew up in the sugar cane fields of Louisiana was the most unlikeliest guest at the White House last night.
But the eighth-grade dropout and a girlfriend named Funk sat there at one of the 13 tables in the State Dining Room.
There were 134 at the dinner -- mostly diplomats, business men and women and members of Congress. The women were expected to wear ball gowns and tiaras; the men were in tail coats, white waistcoats and bow ties.
The dinner was in honor of Queen Elizabeth and His Royal Highness Prince Philip.
The host and hostess were, of course, President Bush and First Lady Laura.
Somehow Arnold Palmer got an invitation. Even stranger, so did Peyton Manning.
But the strangest of all was Calvin and Miss Funk.
Most of the guests were probably sitting there thinking:
“Who’s the goofy looking little guy with the big ears?�
He just won the biggest horse race of all, coming from 19th down the stretch.
Calvin Borrel -- winning his first Kentucky Derby -- is a great story.
But he doesn’t belong in a snooty place like this.
What do you say to these high-falooting people?
Hi, I’m Calvin from St. Martin Parrish in Louisiana. I ride horses.�
“Pleased to meet you, Calvin. I’m Condoleezza Rice.�
“What do you do, Miss Rice�
“Proud to meet ya, Queen. You, too, Prince..
“Damn, Miss Elizabeth. You look just like you did in that movie.
“Heard you guys like horses. Ever muck a stall?�
“President Bush, I’ve always wanted to meet you. My friends call be ‘Bo-Rail’ cause I like hugging that rail when I’m racin’. And by the way, when you are you going to end that stupid ass war you got us in?�
“Pardon me, Laura, ma’am, but which one is the salad fork?�
Pointing to the main course of Dover sole almondine, Calvin utters:
“Damn, Miss Pelosi, I ain’t never caught a fish like that back home. Have you?�
Wonder what he thought of the spring lamb and roasted artichokes or the caviar appetizer and spring pea soup.
Or the violin virtuoso that followed.
“Back home, Queenie, we call that a fiddle.�
Posted by at 9:03 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
My wife is seeing another man, and it ain't funny
May 7, 2007My wife is seeing another man.
Right in our own house.
With me in the next room.
They get together for an hour every day.
Three hours on Wednesday.
No wonder they call it hump day.
His name is Raymond.
Ray Barone.
He, too, is a sports writer.
They say everybody loves him.
I don’t.
My wife gets a lot of laughs out of “Everybody Loves Raymond.�
And she’s not alone. This sit-com ran for nine years on CBS and is now challenging “Sex in the City� for the most syndicated sitcom air time.
But it’s not funny -- at least not to me.
I’m not being a hard-ass here.
My wife converted me over to “Frazier.� I had never watched it before I met her.
She even got me to watch “Third Rock from the Sun� -- an idiotic sitcom, but one at least good for a few laughs.
What Jenee’ finds funny about Raymond, I really don’t know.
Maybe he is the “anti-sports,� the wife’s way of protesting all of the sports I watch on TV.
Funny thing is I really do love sitcoms.
Good ones. Funny ones.
They just quit making them.
So today I am going to give you my 10 top funniest sitcom characters of all time.
Let’s do the Letterman think -- start with No. 10 and work out way to No. 1.
10. Elaine Benes.
Seinfeld’s ex-girlfriend and now only friend was funny and sexy. You wonder why she can’t keep a “sponge worthy� boyfriend. I’ve got a thing for Julia Louis-Dreyfus. I love her in the “New Adventures of Old Christine.�
9. Ralph Kramden.
An underdog who works as a bus driver to make a better life for him and his wife Alice. But his get-rich schemes never work. I loved him as a Raccoon. By far, Jackie Gleason’s best role. No. 2 was Minnesota Fats.
8. Dr. Niles Crane
“Frasier� was a spin-off from “Cheers� to give Kelsey Grammer his own spotlight. But as it turned out, the star was Frasier’s brother. The remarkably funny David Hyde Pierce stole the show.
7. Cosmo Kramer
You got to love a guy without a job but lots of money-making ideas. Seinfeld’s next-door neighbor came up with the idea of a coffee table books about coffee tables; designed a male bra --the “bro;� and proposed a pizza restaurant where customers cook their own pizzas. And don’t’ forget the non-fat yogurt place where everyone gained weight.
6. Lucy Ricardo.
“I Love Lucy� is 50 years old and it still makes me laugh. Lucille Ball had a great cast of characters around her, as well as some really big time guests, but without doubt, she was the star of this show.
5. Archie Bunker.
“Would you like some cream in your eye?� he once asked Sammy Davis Jr.
Giving mouth-to-mouth to a woman -- who turns out to be a transvestite.
Archer called blacks “spades,: Hispanics “spics� and Jewish people “Heebs,� but everyone still loved him.
Might not go over in our world today though. People are much too sensitive.
4. George Costanza.
This overweight, bald best friend of Seinfeld was the star of TV’s funniest sitcom. Jason Alexander played a character that all of us can identify with. In fact, it could be you. If not, someone you know. His honesty gets him in a lot of trouble. But what I always wondered is how to a short, fat, bald guy get some many good looking women in the sack.
3. George “Kingfish� Stevens.
You may never have seen “Amos and Andy.� The TV series was produced from 1951 to 1953 with only 78 episodes. But holy mackerel, it was funnnnnnnnny.
The “Kingfish� -- the leader of the Mystic Knights of the Sea Lodge -- was played by Tim Moore. And although the show was called “Amos and Andy,� it was really “Kingfish and Andy� with the unemployed Kingfish always plotting to take money out of Andrew J. Jones’ back pocket.
2. Jethro Bodine.
“The Beverly Hillbillies� was a funny show and Max Baer Jr. played the funniest character. He had a third grade education, making him the “smartest� of the Clampett clan. His goal in life was to be either a double-aught spy or a street car conductor. Or maybe a soda jerk. His Hollywood name was Beefy Jerky. Baer also played Jethro’s sister Jethrine.
1. Barney Fife.
Nip it in the bud. Nip it. Nip it. Nip it.
With his gun on his hip and one bullet in his pocket, Mayberry’s No. 1 deputy kept things in order at “The Rock.�
I was at the Winter Olympics last year when Don Knotts died.
I told the other sports writers there with me that every newspaper in America would have his death on the front page on Sunday morning.
Don Knotts and Barney Fife were an American hero.
One guy from Memphis bet me the “Commercial Appeal� would not lower itself to do it.
He was wrong.
Posted by at 8:57 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
A billion ways to look at a billion; and more
May 4, 2007The $116 billion that George W. has requested for the fiscal year that begins on Sept. 1, would push the total cost of the war in Iraq to $564 billion, according to Congressional Research Service.
$564 billion!
If the 21 richest people in the world all went completely broke, and another 60,000 millionaires agreed to donate all their wealth, we could pay off this war at least until the president asks for more of our tax dollars.
A billion -- for you who don’t know is one thousand million.
Arecent e-mail I received put it this way:
(A.) A billion seconds ago it was 1959.
(B.) A billion minutes ago Jesus was alive.
(C.) A billion hours ago our ancestors were living in the Stone Age.
(D.) A billion dollars ago was only eight hours and 20 minutes at the rate out governor is spending.
A Seattle Times story looked at it this way.
What could $564 million buy?
(A.) A college education — tuition, fees, room and board at a public university — for about half of the nation's 17 million high-school-age teenagers.
(B.) Preschool for every 3- and 4-year-old in the country for the next eight years.
(C.) A year's stay in an assisted-living facility for about half of the 35 million Americans age 65 or older.
I want to share with you a couple of e-mails going around right now.
One tells how at three minutes and four seconds past 2 a.m. this Sunday it will be 02:03:04 on 05-06-07.
Who gives a crap?
Will next year they be telling us that at four minutes and five seconds past 3 a.m. on June 7, it will be 03:04:05 on 06-07-08?
Somebody out there just doesn’t have enough to do.
Finally, there is also an e-mail calling for a gasoline boycott on May 15.
It reads:
“In April 1997, there was a ‘gas out’ conducted nationwide in protest of gas prices. Gasoline prices dropped 30 cents a gallon overnight.
“On May 15, 2007, all internet users are to not go to a gas station in protest of high gas prices.
“There are 73,000,000+ American members currently on the internet network, and the average car takes about 30 to 50 dollars to fill up.
“If all users did not go to the pump on the 15th, it would take $2,292,000,000.00 (that's almost 3 BILLION) out of the oil companies pockets for just one day, so please do not go to the gas station on May 15 and lets try to put a dent in the Middle Eastern oil industry for at least one day.�
That’s a crock. Everybody will gas up on May 14 or on May 16 and those two days will be a boom for the oil industry. A one-day boycott won’t do squat.
If you really want to boycott, park you car and walk everywhere you go.
Posted by at 9:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Maybe this '24" should have been '19'
May 3, 2007Maybe the sixth season of “24� should have been named “19.�
If the 20th hour of this day is a sign of things to come, the next four hours just might be really boring.
Once all the terrorists werekilled off and the nuclear weapons seized, this show turned into crap.
It started with the return of boring Audrey.
And now her stupid daddy is back.
If it hadn’t been for Jack Bauer, daddy’s head would be lying at the feet of some hooded terrorists.
So how does his repay Jack for saving his neck?
Daddy dearest is ordering Jack to stay away from his dumb ass daughter.
“You’re cursed, Jack. Everything you touch, one way or another, ends up dead.�
If that’s true, please touch daddy and daughter.
Kill them off before they kill my favorite TV show.
The best part of hour 20 was the bra scene.
Spy boyfriend tossed Lisa Miller on the bed and starts pulling her clothes off.
All we get is a bra and belly, but it’s the best action of the night.
The vice president -- and acting president -- lost a hot one when we find out Lisa is sleeping with the enemy.
What does a “dirty old man� do now?
Hey, Bill Buchanan is dumping Karen.
She’s no Lisa, but better than nothing, honey.
So what will the final four hours be like?
I would suspect Jack will catch the Chinese guy and kick his ass good.
Still, something tells me before the clock strikes 6 a.m., Jack Bauer will die or at least they will make us all think he is dead until Season 7 begins.
But if this show continues to be like it was this week, we will not see a Season 7.
The final four episodes of the year will be an hour on May 7, an hour on May 14 and the two-hour conclusion on May 21.
Stay tuned. It has to get better.
Posted by at 8:12 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Hope you didn't doze off -- like the Warriors did
May 2, 2007If you’re not yawning a lot more these days, then you’re not a basketball fan.
Because the Dallas Mavericks have become a real after-hours show.
You “kids� out there may not understand.
When the clock strikes midnight, you’ve still got your groove on.
But for old guys like me who often doze off before 10 p.m., these late-night basketball games are wearing me out.
In Game 1 of the Warriors-Mavericks, I decided to go to Dallas and double cover the game with my cohort Andy Newberry. At the time, I made my decision, I thought the game would be shown on a Sunday afternoon by ABC.
Instead, they gave it to TNT at 8:30 p.m. our time.
But like a doctor’s appointment these days, 8:30 doesn’t really mean 8:30.
If you TV Guide says 8:30, that means the tip-off will be at least 8:45.
And with no overtime, 8:45 games usually end sometime after 11 -- if you’re lucky.
After covering Game 1 in Dallas on Sunday night and then driving home, I got into bed at 3:08 a.m. Monday.
So you should understand why I have passed on covering any more late games.
When I up almost six hours past my bedtime, I feel it for the next week.
But I still can’t say “no� to Warriors-Mavericks on TV.
In the first five games, this series has had more ups and downs than the Bunny Ranch.
The Mavericks are gong to win in five.
Make that six.
They’re dead.
They’re back.
They’re really dead.
Maybe not.
Stick a fork in them, they’re done.
Dirk’s a dud.
No, Dirk’s a stud.
It’s 3-2 going back to California.
They have a chance.
Don’t they?
I mean last night the Mavericks jumped out to a 21-point lead in the first half.
Now you might think it’s time to call Ray Lunn and bury these Warriors.
But 21-point leads never become 42-point leads in the NBA.
Instead, they become 9-point leads. . .then 3-point leads,.. then 1-point leads… then oh crap, we’re behind by 9.
That’s why happened last night.
With 5:20 left in the first half, the Mavs are ahead 53-32 and Austin Croshere has suddenly turned into Michael Jordan.
But with 3:19 left in the game, the Warriors are up 112-103 and Croshere is sitting on the bench next to the DNPs.
(Did not play)
Did you by any chance turn the TV off right then?
Some of you probably did.
If so, you missed one hell of a Mavericks’ comeback and a real MVP performance by Dirk Nowitzki, who up until them had been a real MDP.
(Most disappointing player).
Final:
Mavs 118, Warriors 112.
That’s right, Dallas outscored Golden State 15-0 in the last 3:19.
Now we get a Game 6 back in Oakland on Thursday.
At 9:30 our time of course.
Which means a 9:45 start.
Which means Cinderella’s coach will be a Jack O’Lantern before the game is over.
But I’ll be watching.
I just can’t say “no� to this stuff.
P.S.: I know I usually do my “24� thing on Wednesday, but the Mavs game got in the way last night. I have recorded it though and will watch tonight and blog manana.
Posted by at 8:24 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Remembering Jim Lonergan
May 1, 2007I worked eight years for Rhea Howard and only talked to him twice.
The first time was when he had ordered me and sports editor Ted Buss to get press credentials for the Masters, so he could give them to a country club buddy and his wife.
“You have a girl’s name,� he said, letting me know that the wife would be using “Nicky� Gholson’s credential.
Our next meeting was in his office -- the first time I had ever been allowed through the sacred door.
Mr. Howard sat behind his big desk. I sat down in front of his throne.
He pushed a photo of a softball team in front of me and told me to get it in the paper. His next door neighbor would really be happy seeing his little girl’s picture in the paper.
I told Mr. Howard that we had a rule of not running a photo with more than five people in it.
“I think we can make an exception to the rule this time, don’t you?� he said.
That was it.
My two big moments with Mr. Howard.
I remember right after he died and Harte Hanks brought in a new publisher, our editor told me:
“He’s the antichrist.�
Bull hockey.
The editor at the time was a member of the Howard family and realized that from now on, the family would no longer be getting all those special favors any more.
Jim Lonergan was a big change from Mr. Howard.
He knew my name.
He actually spoke to me.
He invited me to play golf with him.
He invited me to his house.
He let me call him by his first name.
He didn’t fire me when the sports department kept misspelling his name (Lonegan).
As long as we gave Nebraska big headlines and ran Dartmouth basketball scores (his grandson played there), Jim was happy.
Still, I wonder what this old newspaperman would have said if he knew this paper had him both 81 and 82 years old in our obits today.
This morning Joe Brown asked me what my No. 1 memory of Jim was.
I had more than one.
My favorite one was when he lost his cool at a staff meeting.
Harte Hanks made employees take annual attitude surveys, and the previous year had really been a bad one for the TRN.
So when the following year’s attitude survey came back much better, Jim called a meeting to tell everyone and brag a bit. He said he thought one big reason for the improvement was his “open door policy� where employees can feel free to speak their mind.
Then one photographer asked:
“Do you think maybe the real reason for the improvement was that we have a bunch of new employees and they just haven’t been around here long enough to know about all the bull shit?
Jim, at the time, had a can of Coke in front of him.
When he hear that comment, his face turned redder than the can and he started going off about some seeing the glass as being half full and others seeing it as half empty.
So much for feeling free to speak your mind.
Another memory I have of sitting in his office chatting one day when he got a phone call from his banker. Jim was borrowing a pretty big sum of money to buy more Harte Hanks stock.
He was 65 at the time, and I had to ask “Why?�
He told me that he didn’t think he had ever really accomplished anything in his life and this was his chance to do that.
Jim Longeran’s life was filled with accomplishments.
The greatest may have been finding two soul mates.
He married Jean when he was only 21.
They had 40 wonderful years together.
But when Jean Longeran died of cancer, Jim found Nancy.
Another soul mate for almost 20 years.
No amount of money you can borrow will buy that.
Posted by at 9:36 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
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