Hockey nonsense

“I went to the Fights and a hockey game broke out”, quipped Rodney Dangerfield.
Funny? Yes it is. What isn’t funny are the deaths this year of three pro hockey
players and one amateur . Each one was a personal tragedy and had different circumstances but the unifying factor was that all three of the pros were “enforcers”, usually the biggest guy on the team that protects the smaller players. Outrage at these recent deaths was sufficient to produce letters of protest from people who blame fighting on the ice for everything. There was condemnation from a guy from the soccer hall of fame. Why not something from the synchronized swimming association, especially since the water in rinks is frozen. Some guy wanted a bigger international-size rink. We aren’t Sweden. One guy suggested that if a fight broke out we all stand up and turn our backs to the players. Maybe he means to moon them.
I played hockey from 14 to 18 and I was, I guess, an enforcer. I had to be since I was so slow and couldn’t dipsy doodle on scoring plays. I always made the team. You know what, those fights were actually fun and I couldn’t really hurt the other guy. Although one very tough hombre once loosened all my teeth. That’s why my favorite Christmas song is: “All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth”. Look, fighting is just part of the game folks. They’re spontaneous and usually do not contain any malice aforethought. If you run into someone who holds strong opinions on hockey, ask him if he or she has ever played the game, do they know how to skate, have they ever seen a game, ever follow a team, know where the Flames and the Thrashers went (even Ken Jennings won’t know that). So if that person comes up empty, you’ll know that you are talking to someone Don Rickles would call “a hockey puck”.

Christopher Hitchens: truth-teller and patriot 1949-2011

We had the same hero—George Orwell. He wrote a magnificent book called, “Why Orwell Matters”. I named this blog American Orwell. We had the same friend, Salman Rushdie. When the fatwa went out on Rushdie, Chris defied the Ayatollahs on behalf of him, a very dangerous position then. I was only someone who Salman would visit in my London office when he got bored with his advertising assignments. He could speak eloquently on literature, politics and history. You can see why I admired Hitchens. He went to the barricades for the Kurds and called out frauds like Mother Teresa, Henry Kissinger and Bill Clinton. Meanwhile, I was in the nearest piano bar. I drank and smoked like Hitchens once upon a time until one night, after I drank too many martinis, my gall bladder erupted and I had to be carried to the nearest hospital emergency ward. That was the end of my bacchanal days at age 32. I also stopped smoking. One of Orwell’s “hard truths” is that we are all forgotten after one generation, and after two, no one will ever know we had been alive. On that point I disagree. People will be reading Christopher Hitchens for many generations to come.

JESUS HAS LEFT THE BUILDING

Santa is the top banana now. I noticed on the Michael Buble Christmas show that there wasn’t a single carol, not even Silent Night. The tune I hear most often on television and Muzak is “Have yourself a merry little Christmas”, a wonderfully poignant wartime song, but not pious. Of course Christmas now starts five minutes after Thanksgiving and the cash registers do all the ringing. The old narratives have lost their power in our brave new world. Italy is in a fix but they aren’t turning to the Vatican for help, it’s the IMF. Decades ago Woody Allen said (not cruelly but irreverently): “There’s a real traffic jam in Manhattan today, is the Pope or some other show business personality in town?”
Today’s sports page has a droll item. The wife of baseball’s $254mllion man, Albert Pujols. said that she was indignant that the Cardinals only offered him $150 million. At first she said she was angry at God and the Cardinals but in the end “it’s just like God to put us on a team called the Angels”. Dear Mrs.Pujols, every theologian knows that God always favors the American League, especially the NY Yankees. So now we have a season dedicated to “The Miracle on 34th Street”, certainly not the one in Bethlehem.

Newt Romney All American

This new film is a heart-warming and thoughtful remake of the 1940 biopic of the legendary Notre Dame player and coach Knute Rockne. It was made by Warner Bros. This one is made by the Koch Bros.
We follow Newt from his early days as a serial adulterer to three wonderful weddings and various exciting religious experiences. He goes to Washington (but not like Mr. Smith) and garners so much power it costs him over $300,000 in ethics violations. There is a touching scene where he stands in front of the Lincoln Memorial and says, “If this Republican can make it so can I, and I’ll have an even bigger monument.” In the 1940 film Pat O’Brien, as Rockne, says to his players, “Let’s win one for the Gipper”, meaning George Gipp, played by Ronald Reagan. In the new film, Newt rallies his team with, “Let’s let the Gipper win one for us”. Charlie Sheen is the lead in a role he was born again to play. I can’t tell the surprising ending but it does show the small drinking fountain dedicated to him on K Street.. Oh, and the feature plays with a short titled “Our GOP Gang” where Presidential candidates play Alfalfa, Spanky, Buckwheat and Darla. So, so funny.

Cheap People

That’s the phrase my rich sourpuss neighbor used to call everyone he met. What we now call the 99%. He had been on a bomber crew that flattened Japan in WWII. “Once you’ve seen one Jap you’ve seen them all’ he told me. He came back and went to USC (on the socialistic GI Bill) and then worked himself up to the boardroom during the post-war boom. He retired to Newport Beach on his stock options and other Unsocial Security instruments. When I met him in 1989 he had just ditched his first wife and married a true bimbo who he saw in the LA Times wearing a mink bikini. I go into this excessive detail to sketch out the kind of person who would gladly pepper spray kids and cheat on his taxes (he was an accountant). He would probably volunteer to operate a guillotine pro bono if it were available. He represents the old triumphal America, now ready to shuffle off this mortal coil. He was much older than me so he’s probably dead by now. Come to think of it he was already dead when I met him.

Occupy Wall Street--foreverf!

“Workless poverty” in 1930’s England transformed the Eton schoolboy and Imperial policeman Eric Blair into the socially-conscious George Orwell. He went Down and Out in Paris and London; he went down the coal mines and picked hops in England. He saw the rich get richer and the working class get little reward. Sounds like the situation in the US today doesn’t it? His weapon was a pen but sometimes a handmade sign will do the same job today. One can only admire those who have come out against the greed and duplicity of the Masters of the Universe. Eric Cantor calls them a mob. There is no generosity of spirit on the Right. They know they are safe. It’s all there in Michael Lewis’ book “The Big Short”. Sell the public investments then double cross them and rake in the money. It’s all there in Thorstein Veblen’s “Theory of the Leisure Class”. Millions out of work, bankruptcy and foreclosures as far as the eye can see and they’re still running BMW and Cadillac commercials. The politicians are staying out of this since Wall Street owns them. Can’t expect any help from Obama either since Goldman Sachs was his biggest campaign contributor. All you can do is act on your own behalf. Scissor your credit cards and don’t be politically inert. You still have a vote.
Lenin said there could never be a revolution in England because the crowd wouldn’t storm Parliament when the signs read “Do not walk on the grass”. This is America so stand your ground people. Don’t let anyone push you away. You can’t trespass on democracy.

Nein, Nein, Nein...No, No, No!

The less-than-Presidential debate was held in Las Vegas this week and we were treated to Herman Cain’s nonsensical 9-9-9 tax proposal again. Since all tax policy is social policy this is really on the wrong track. Not fair. Not practical. Not realistic. But it is the topic de jour for the media who can only milk “Dancing with the Stars” and “Bowling for Fish” so far. Actually, it doesn’t matter since none of the guys in dark suits are going to be President. That includes Ms. Bachmann, the Tracy Flick candidate for Student Council.
I hate parading my serenading but I’ve done a little poem for the event.
Mitt and Newt don’t give a hoot.
Newt and Mitt don’t give a !@##$%
Paul is sick.
Perry is scary,
Cain’s a pain,
Bachmann’s a bore,
The rest we can ignore,
So let’s keep Obama,
And the lovely Michelle,
And let these Republicans
Go to hell!
We’ve come a long way from Thomas Jefferson to a pizza parlor policymaker