Moving Back into the old Place.

Some thoughts while the vacuum I'm pushing sucks up the dust that's gathered around this dump...the door creaked when I unlocked it and it smells musty in here, been a while.

...it's strange to realize the business you spent (maybe wasted?) your life in is irrelevant. If I could start over again, would I do something else? Damn right I would.

...I feel bad for the parents of the Navy Seal killed when that Chinook was brought down, but getting hooked up with a grifter like Larry Klayman and suing the President for your son's death? Your kid was a Navy Seal, he knew what he signed up for, even if you didn't. You won't win, but Larry Klayman will. BTW there is no record, written or recorded of any of the people being sued uttered the words "SEAL TEAM 6"

...ever wonder about those web ads asking "SHOULD WE FIGHT OBAMA ON GUN CONTROL?" or "IMPEACH OBAMA?" Here's what happens when you click on them: if you agree with the message you'll be asked for your name, address and e-mail. The next thing you know you'll start getting all kinds of "important news" from "important" groups. You'll think you're smart, popular and your opinion is very, very important. You're not, you've been sold. The grifters need as many "like minded" people's names as possible, hundreds and hundreds of thousands of them. What they want after you give them your name is your money.

...how long before a Border Patrol Agent shoots and kills one of those militia men on the border in Texas? The Border Patrol doesn't want them there nor do the local cops.

...wonder when the accountants who run Clear Channel Communications will have the meeting where somebody says, "why the hell are we still paying Rush Limbaugh all this money?"

...seems interesting that Navy Seals really love to talk about Seal Team Six and members of the similar Special Operations organization Delta Force say little or nothing about what they do for a living. A friend of mine, a Colonel in the Army, says the Seals are cowboys. That statement could start a fist fight in a bar in San Diego.

...Americans go nuts when ISIS or what ever they are calling themselves today publicize the beheading of an American journalist. For a little perspective, our good friends and allies the Saudis have beheaded 19 people since August of 2013.

...speaking of the Saudis do they have any actually plans to use their large well equipped military against the enormous threats the King spoke so eloquently of last week?

That's it, I have to change the bag on the vacuum. As Charles P. Pierce always sez..."play nice yah bastids.

The Christmas 'Tacks"

 

My old man had a heart attack the summer I was 14. In those days they had no clue how to handle a 39 year old man who’d had a massive heart attack. The old man damned near died. Dr. Graham took a drag on his cigarette and told Dad to “stay in bed for a year, oh yeah and quit smoking” so he did. The result he was bored, pissed and didn’t make any money. Zero. It was a tough time for all of us.

I grew from 5 foot 8 to 5’11’’ from the end of 8^th grade to the start of 9^th. All my pants were too short, my shoes didn’t fit and worst of all my size 8 skates didn’t fit my brand new size ten feet. Mom told me new skates were out of the question. I needed clothes, badly. That was what I getting for Christmas.

We had a helluva Junior A hockey team, we’d all played together since 6^th grade. My pals and I knew we could win it all this season. Gary, Don, John, Dick, Roger and I believed it. I knew I needed new skates. I needed CCM Pro-Lites with the Tackaberry boot. They cost 125.00 in those days. Things, due to inflation over the years are about 7 times more expensive today and if you multiply 125 by 7 comparable skates today cost over $800. Get the picture?

My sister Margo came to me after Thanksgiving, she led me into mom and dad’s room and pointed out a CCM box on the top shelf of Mom’s closet. I took it down and there were my dream skates, the same skates the Pros wore, that the Sioux wore. I couldn’t believe it. We were broke! I tried them on, perfect fit.

The season started in early December with practices on the Central park ice. I suffered through the first one wearing my old skates. Thin socks didn’t help; my new feet were too big. The next day I put my old skates in the new CCM box and put the Tacks with my gear. I started wearing them. I could skate like the wind.
The first game, I blocked a shot, my new Tacks got a dent in the right front post. The 2^nd game I got in a battle for the puck in the corner and the toe of my left skate lost a chunk of leather. I was wearing my Christmas present to three practices a week plus two games. I played pick up hockey on Saturdays and Sundays and at least one night a week went to public skating at the old rink at UND. The 3^rd game, I blocked another shot and dented the post on the left skate. I had the skates rockered and sharpened at least twice a week. By Christmas the Christmas Tacks were well broken in and roughed up. The tree was up and the CCM box was wrapped and it had my name on it.

Our family routine at Christmas was Christmas Eve at my Dad’s parents, open our presents at home on Christmas morning and then Christmas Day at Moms’ parents. When we got home on Christmas Eve, I stayed awake until well after one. I razored open the CCM box and put the new Tacks in it and wrapped it back up. I had polished them the best I could. We opened our presents on Christmas morning, I waited as long as I could. I got new pants, shirts and sox. I had pants that fit for the first time in months. The last present, the CCM box wrapped in red foil paper was glowing like it was radioactive. I finally had to open it. I did an acting job that warranted an Oscar. My Dad asked to see my new skates, he looked them over and then said to my Mom, “Janice, I thought we got him new skates? These look like they’re used.” I confessed. My mother knew all along, she always knew everything.

It was a very good Christmas at a difficult time for our family. My grandparents helped make the new Tacks happen, mom had scrimped and saved.

Our team won Junior A that season.

Get a Grip People!

My conservative friends need to get a dose of reality. Phil Robertson of Duck Dynasty is no more of a hillbilly redneck than Buddy Ebson was Jed Clampett. I’m sure his comments in GQ were a marketing ploy and if he is anything, he is a brilliant marketing man. The Robertson Family enjoying Martha's Vineyard

 

After the recall of Gray Davis here in California we elected Arnold Schwarzenegger governor. Too many people (mostly conservatives) thought we were electing Conan the Barbarian and he would swing his mighty sword and straighten out Sacramento overnight. It didn’t happen. Arnold even hung Conan’s sword on the wall of his office. It was a movie prop.

 

Some conservatives are excited by another strong man (I guess) Chris Christie the governor of New Jersey. He’s cut school budgets, bullied teachers, public employees and strong armed reporters. He’s rough, tough and ready to push around all those soft liberals. He’s also got the highest unemployment in the North East, he’s given tax breaks to money losing casino operations, he was charged by the US Attorney’s office for exceeding his travel and entertainment budget guidelines when he was  US Attorney for New Jersey and now the bridge scandal. Ever think he is maybe just another fat pant bully politician from New Jersey?

 

John Wayne was and is another conservative hero. Tough Marine hero, western cowboy hero, all around bad ass. Never served in the military, lived in Newport Beach California not on a ranch like you’d think Rooster Cogburn would. The worst thing you could hear in Basic training was “Cut that John Wayne shit out trooper.” He was a guy who made movies.

 

Ronald Reagan made training films during WWII, never left Hollywood. Nancy broke up his marriage to Jane Wyman. Go to the RR museum and gaze on pure un-adulterated fantasy land. Rough and tough Ronnie used an English saddle when he rode around his Santa Barbara Ranch all dressed up in his cowboy costume. He also lost 249 Marines in Lebanon (after being warned security wasn't any good) and got the hell out over night and then kicked ass in Grenada right?

Prep school cheer leader George W. Bush bought his ranch shortly before he ran for President, somebody taught him how to operate a chainsaw and he basically cut brush for 8 years.  The ranch was on the market and sold after he left office. Presumably his Ford F-150 and the chainsaw were part of the deal.

Roy Rogers was born in Chicago, Gabby Hayes was an Englishman and perennial virgin Doris Day was a big band singer. As Artie Shaw once said, “I knew Doris day before she was a virgin.” Charlton Heston wasn’t Moses, kids.

Your uncritical, magical thinking leads you to believe Obama is fascist-socialist-communist-Muslim-born in Kenya-weakest president ever who is stronger than Hitler. Get a grip people.

Whoops, I almost forgot you thought Mitt Romney was a guy who built businesses with his own hands and ingenuity.

Now some conservative “thought leaders” are championing Russia’s Vladimir Putin for his conservative values.   If Putin thought it would garner him support he’d take off his shirt, put his foot in the middle of Phil Robertson’s chest and rip that idiot beard out by the handful!

 

You people need to grow the fuck up! Check out Putin being the manly. conservative man before being photo shopped into the great outdoors.

 He could run for President and some of you'd vote for him. Probably win South Carolina hands down after he wrestles a couple of the other candidates into submission right on Fox News Live!

"Deep in the Heart of Texas"

 

Greg Abbot is the Texas Attorney General and since Rick Perry announced that he isn’t going to run again, Abbot is the Republican front runner and is he is a Texas sized asshole!

Exhibit 1.

Abbot brags “I go into the office in the morning, sue President Obama and then I go home.”

He’s a horse shit lawyer, he’s sued the feds 27 times and won 5 times, costing Texans millions and millions in court fees.

Exhibit 2.

Abbot had a tree fall on him in 2004, he sued and won 10 million dollars. He is in a wheelchair for life. Immediately after he won his judgment, he led a fight in Texas for Tort Reform (from his wheelchair) to lower settlements like the one he won in court. If the fucking tree fell on him today, the maximum he’d get is $250,000.

Exhibit 3.

Abbot is now suing the feds over the Americans with Disabilities Act. (Championed by Bob Dole and signed into law by George H. W. Bush) It’s the law that makes public buildings handicapped accessible, prevents discriminatory hiring practices, etc. Abbot must have a magic flying wheelchair (or plenty of burly Teas Rangers to haul his ass around) that doesn’t need curb cuts, he doesn’t need handicapped urinals to piss in or since I’m sure as Attorney General and probably down the road as Governor he’ll have drivers so he won’t need to worry about handicapped parking spots.

Sick bastard.

I think we’d be much better off, as Rick Perry once hinted, if Texas would just secede from the Union. Then we could take all our military bases, the Johnson Space Center, cut them out of FAA airport controls and every other piece of the federal government that they obviously despise and then move that border fence to the Oklahoma border. Maybe we’d get really lucky and Oklahoma would join Texas.

Best part is Texas college football teams would have to play themselves, over and over and over.

As my old friend JB, a true “blue” Texan says, “The Republicans in Texas have turned the state into Mississippi with good roads and if they fuck up the schools any more than they have, smart parents will be sending their kids to school in Nuevo Laredo.”

 

The Long View on Life's Oddities and Weird Moments

At my birthday party last night, a friend asked "What's the weirdest thing you've experienced over the years?"

The first thing that popped into my mind was an incident with one of my German Shepherds. We were hiking in northern Maine on a little used trail, we were miles from civilization. This was bear, moose, deer and black fly country. The dog was off leash, ranging ahead of me and he came trotting back with a pink thong in his mouth. You can imagine what kind of thoughts ran through my head!

Another weird thing took place in the Bugaboos in Canada. I was at the end of a 4 day climbing trip and we were staying in the climbers hut.

The first floor of the hut has tables, chairs a small library and a kitchen. The second floor has sleeping spaces marked on the floor. They fit a sleeping pad and a sleeping bag, they are about 6 inches apart.
After 3 nights of sleeping next to a fart master from Vancouver, the spot next to me was taken by a big, strong, gorgeous female climber from Poland. She and her partner had climbed every big mountain in Europe and South America and were planning a climb on K-2 and Everest. My climbing partner Lance and I shared a drop or two of whisky with the Polish girls after our freeze dried dinners. We went to bed at 10 or so and I zipped into my bag next to her. I was almost asleep when she rolled over and said. "Boob, ven you go home?" I said, we were hiking out in the morning. She said, "Too bat, I vas gonna take you up the small hut on de ice and ve make luf tomorrow night." She gave me a kiss on the cheek, rolled over and went to sleep. I was wide awake all night.

When I was the program director of WVBF in Boston, my afternoon drive guy, Magic Christian had a listener record the following: "Hi, this is Patti Hearst and whenever I'm hiding out in Boston, I always listen to the Magic Christian on 105.7 WVBF" the next day I was talking to three FBI agents.

When I was working with the amazing Chuck Riley, (you may remember him as Chuck Dann on CKY and KQWB) he bought an Avanti from the company that retained the rights to build the car after Studebaker went out of business. The cars were highly customized as far as paint and interior décor. Chuck ordered a chocolate brown with brown suede interior. One day in the parking lot he was yelling for help, he couldn't get out of the car! He had worn a suede top coat and it interacted with the seats like Velcro.

At WVBF we had 3 black women on staff, Choice Joyce our receptionist, Claudette, a sales secretary and I hired Pam Hamilton to do the all night show. Pam was from Long Island, an Emerson graduate, she played the violin and wasn't exactly soulful at the time. I overheard Joyce and Claudette talking one day about Pam. Claudette said to Joyce, "That sistah don't know she's a sistah!"

          I have many, many more...but I have a hockey game to get ready for! Go Broons!

Grandpa John, my Father's Day Thoughts

I started thinking about my Grandpa John. He was a remarkable man. 

John, the oldest of a huge family, was sent from Iowa as a teenager to farm land his father purchased, in North Dakota, He was a teenaged farmer, farming with horses and his strong back. John also had to supervise his younger brothers every summer when they were sent from Iowa to "help" him on the farm. Imagine it, a kid, farming for a long distance, cold and demanding father, who at the end of the year took his share off the top.

John was intelligent, quiet and unassuming, he farmed with allergies I've inherited, he wore a bandana over his nose and mouth and eventually a dust mask, it helped a little but not a lot.

His fields were perfect, the furrows were straight and he wasted nothing.

I remember driving back to the farm from Church one Sunday (he seldom went) we were all dressed in church clothes. Grandpa stopped his Oldsmobile when he spotted a lone, green piece of fire brush in one of his wheat fields. He and I got out of the car and waded through the long wheat waving in the constant North Dakota wind. Grandpa took off his suit jacket, gently pulled the fire brush out of the ground and wrapped it in his jacket. He didn't say a word, he put it in the trunk of the Olds and when we got back he burned it in the burn barrel. His fields never had any of that invasive brush that plagued his neighbors crops.

My abiding memory of him is watching him in his chambray shirt, bib overalls, sunglasses and a big straw hat walking in the field, his hands gently touching the full heads of grain to ascertain if they were dry enough to cut and then harvest.

He died when I was a Junior in high school, I spent some time with him the afternoon he died, but I can't picture him in the hospital, only in his fields. That's where he belonged.

My Dad, his only son, was a pilot in the Army Air Force, after the war, dad flew a Piper Cub out to the farm to give his parent's their first plane ride. When Grandpa John climbed aboard, he said, "Don't go too fast, Bobby." He loved it!

I Love Hockey!

 

When I was a little boy, our next door neighbor Leo Fetig was the goalie for the Amerks a semi-pro hockey team. Leo had three girls. I was the one he taught to skate. I remember Leo after the games with black eyes, bloody noses and his wife Ruth working on his "Charlie horses".

My lifelong pal Gary Como and I were kids who helped Al Purpur with the ice at the University of North Dakota during the Sioux games, we did it for free tickets. We saw some great WCHA Hockey. Gary and I saw the Russian National team play the Sioux on their first US tour. We saw Harvard play UND for the first time on UND home ice. Bill Cleary gave me his stick after the game. Bill and his brother went on to play for the Gold Medal team in the ’60 Olympics. I met Cleary years later in Boston when he was the coach at Harvard, I brought up the stick and he remembered the game and the dumb kid after the game. After that I saw any Harvard game I wanted plus tickets to the Bean Pot. There were some great ones. Gary and I would do our ice scraping and then sit on the scoreboard supports to watch the game, perfect for Junior High boys. I watched Stan Pashcke play for UND and we cried at the sad story of Terry Casey. Later in life I got to know Stan and his eyes lit up when I told him I played at Pashcke Gardens (the rink at Central Park) when I was a kid. The UND play by play guy, Doug Teigmeir would always say when Stan scored a goal, “There’s another light in Pashcke Gardens” I later worked with Doug at KNOX and engineered UND hockey games. The story is always how the coach of the 80' Olympic team was the last cut on the 60 team, Stan was the cut just before Herb Brooks.

With the encouragement of our coach, Bob Peters, we formed a Midget A team and a Jr team at Central Park one year and won both leagues. Plus we played double the games our peers played. Peters later coached UND, then started the program at Bemidji State and won championships in D-3, D-2 and D-1. He was a college goalie drafted by the Redwings, opted to stay in school and to make a career in coaching. My biggest regret is not taking his offer to train me as a goal tender. Shoulda-woulda-coulda.

I played club hockey in college and had some fun. Later, I had a guy working for me whose Mom was in the head office of the North Stars and she got a pair of green and white North Stars skates for me. The next year they became the Dallas Stars.

I feel madly in love with the NHL when I lived in Boston, the Orr-Esposito Bruins were fantastic, the rivalries of the Original 6 teams, the upstart Flyers and Islanders, the Summit Series were great moments. Some friends and I even went to a game at the Montreal Forum. Later as I climbed the ladder in broadcasting, I had tickets to the Bruins, 3^rd row, North end to the right of the goal. The perfect seats for hockey because you can see the entire surface of the ice. I had a “Jesus Saves and Esposito Scores on the Rebound” bumper sticker too. I got to meet and know Milt Schmidt, all star player for the Bruins, hall of famer, coach, general manager of the B’s and then started the Cap’s franchise. Just a wonderful guy. Miss our lunches.

George Johns, a Transcona kid and I took Jim Quall, another Transcona mug to the Boston Garden to see the Bruins. Jim played for the St. Boniface Bruins in Jr. Hockey, it was such a great night for the three of us. For Jim to watch a game in a building he’s only seen on Hockey Night in Canada for his entire life was just amazing. he still talks about it!

I got to know Dallas Smith from Winnipeg who played for the Bruins, Don Awrey, Bobby Orr’s defensive partner became a friend.

When I met Jan she didn’t know hockey from a handbag, now she stands in front of the flat screen with me and watches.

Living in LA, I think the Kings are such a great team, but my Bruins are back in the final and playing the Black Hawks for the Cup, could it get any better than this? Original 6!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!