Hey, gang! You may have heard this bizarre news about our good friend Kevin Smith's daughter recently:
The director's daughter, Harley Quinn Smith, was almost kidnapped in L.A. on Saturday, while she was waiting for an Uber outside of a Starbucks. A car pulled up, and it had an Uber sign in the window…but Harley had a feeling that the two men inside weren't actually Uber drivers, and she was right. They refused to answer any questions, tried to get her into the car, and wouldn't offer any identification. Harley refused the ride, and they sped away.
Harley was obviously shaken up, so Kevin got her a cake with "SORRY MEN SUCK" written on it. The message was well received, and Harley was cheered up by the gesture.
First off, the men who made this attempt are monsters, and we don't need them walking around on our planet. I have zero tolerance for this garbage, and I'm in favor of the harshest punishment possible for the people who commit such scarring crimes.
On the other hand, SORRY MEN SUCK is a message that I personally feel is a little too all-inclusive. I'm a father, and I get the concept of the apology, but there's no need to lump us all in together. Not all men are bad! Some of us are even close to great!
(No, I don't mean myself, but if you want to say it, I won't stop you.)
I have some Facebook friends who really have NO love for the police, and I thought I'd take a second to speak on that. There's a meme going around that says we should stop applauding cops for doing their jobs without hurting anyone, making the comparison to a barista giving you coffee without burning you.
Yes, we know that there are bad cops in the world, but that's because there are simply bad PEOPLE in the world, and some of them have weaseled their way into having the job of being a cop. The fact of the matter is this: there are more good cops than bad in the world, and those good cops keep us safe. If you're not out there doing the job, maybe you should keep your comments to yourself…because you don't know what it's like to take on that responsibility.
I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm going to keep on applauding the men and women who protect us every day. Your thoughts, as always, are welcome…
Today's blog comes from one of my mentors, Dan Sanders:
This blog was inspired by a group of young males I saw on a street corner before school while I was stopped at a red light. Whether they ever made it to school remains a mystery.
It troubles me when I see people of any age marking time, lock-stepping to a beat chosen by the world around them, falling in line, afraid to disrupt the order of things. One thing that drives me crazy is inertia, a resistance to change.
The Stepford Wives, a 1972 satirical thriller by Ira Levin, is a story about Joanna Eberhart, a photographer and young mother who moves to a perfect Connecticut town and begins to suspect that the submissive housewives there might be robots created by their husbands. In that case, the wives were simply replaced by machines. These days we have advanced way beyond the Stepford wives, no longer needing to replace a person with a machine. We do that ourselves by sticking the machines in our hands and ears. Unless some outside force knocks us in the head, we will continue staring at our hands and listening to the programmed hypnosis attacking our ears and eyes. It bothers me most of all when I see young people—anyone under age 30—doing that. I remember when we use to say, "Don't trust anyone over 30." Now I would reverse that and say, "Don't trust anyone under 30."
On February 8, 1931, James Dean was born, and in 1955, at the age of 24, he made a movie called Rebel Without a Cause. It offered both social commentary and an alternative to previous films depicting delinquents in urban slum environments. Dean played Jim Stark, a teen from a troubled family who in the end loses a friend to death but gains a father. On that corner, I witnessed what appeared to be the Belt Buckle Rebellion. The group of young men stood puffing on electronic cigarettes, not one of them with their pants up to their waists. I supposed this was some sort of rebellion, although I'm wasn't sure against what. Belts?
Politicians moving into New Hampshire have no doubt noted that the state is in drug addiction shock. In one survey, the New Hampshire Center for Public Policy Studies placed New Hampshire among the top 10 states in the nation in terms of abuse of either alcohol or drugs by teens, a self-induced inertia, to say the least. It's time for young people to stop standing around with their pants down and do something and time for older people to kick conformity and acceptance in the behind. Everyone should grab life by the bull rope and ride the damn thing to the buzzer.
There will be more thoughts on inertia maybe and other things on the shores of Rambling Harbor. Join me there.
This is a serious Super Bowl Weekend Warning, friends. I know your first instinct will probably be laughter, and I can't blame you…but I want to stress that this isn't actually a joke!
When a city's team is in the Super Bowl on a given year, more people in that city die from the flu that year. So, that's a deadly flu epidemic in two different cities every year. The same is NOT true of the city that hosts the actual game.
People who are staying at home and hosting small gatherings are at the highest risk, and it all comes down to double dipping your chips in the dip. Again, this isn't a joke! Frequent hand washing and a "no double dipping" sign are recommended as preventive measures.
Personally, I like to break a chip in half, and dip each half independently. There's also the "flip" method, which is where you dip one end of the chip, and then flip it around to dip the side that hasn't yet touched your mouth. Neither of these methods has proven to be very popular in mixed company. Trust me, I'm speaking from firsthand experience.
What do you think, Rock-A-Holics? Is this a real health scare, or are we just being scared into getting flu shots each year? I'd love to know how you feel about this, but please, put on this surgical mask first…
Here's something for the Rock-A-Holics with an interest in law enforcement…
I'm sure a lot of people find it annoying when they're pulled over for speeding, and later see a police officer cruising down the highway at 90 MPH, with no emergency in sight.
Well, a Miami woman recently pulled over a speeding police officer for speeding. She gave him a lecture, and recorded the whole thing on her phone. To his credit, the cop took it in stride, probably because he knew she was right. He didn't exactly admit it, but he did apologize, and even offered his name and badge number. The woman refused that information, but she did give him a long speech that would be played off the stage at the Oscars for length.
I admire the accountability on display here, and kudos to the woman for tackling this without devolving into complete stupidity. Granted, she was probably pushing a little too hard for attention, but at least she didn't flip out. We're still struggling with the citizen-police dynamic in this country, but interactions like this give me a tiny bit of hope.
With Valentine's Day approaching at a high rate of speed, it's always nice to hear a story of true romance, don't you think?
A couple who met on Instagram recently met IN PERSON for the very first time, and they got married…on the spot. Just in case you missed that, let me say it again:
A WOMAN FROM NEW YORK MET A GUY FROM CALIFORNIA ON INSTAGRAM.
THEY STARTED A VIRTUAL ROMANCE, AND THEN GOT MARRIED, IMMEDIATELY UPON MEETING IN PERSON FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER.
Admittedly, I don't know much about Instagram, but is this really how relationships blossom these days? My actual daughter Sara, and my radio daughter Vicky, both agree that people have plenty of ways to connect via Instagram, with methods ranging from hashtags, to mutual friends, to shared interests.
"Follow your heart," the groom says. Here's what my heart says, pal: You're an idiot.
I can't wait to see what kind of hashtags come out of a marriage that lasts 6 months, and then #completely #falls #apart…because the #bride and #groom are #stupid.
Maybe I'm cynical, or maybe I'm realistic. Maybe you have some thoughts that you'd like to share on the topic…
Today's blog comes from one of my mentors, Dan Sanders:
So here we are in February, the last month of meteorological winter. February 2 is Groundhog Day, the day we take a little creature, known as Chuck, Wood-shock, Groundpig, Whistler, Thickwood Badger, Canada Marmot, Monax, Moonack, Weenusk, and my favorite, the Red Monk, out of its burrow, hold it up in the air, and plan our next six weeks on whether or not it sees its shadow. How do we know it actually sees its shadow when the sun is out? No one has ever explained that to me. On Groundhog Day, we use TV and radio time as well as print to pay attention to something that has no actual basis in fact. Even a number of songs have been written about Groundhog Day, including one by the great blues singer John Lee Hooker ("Ground Hog Blues") and country singer-songwriter Tom T. Hall ("Happy Groundhog Day").
Now don't get me wrong. I love groundhogs, and I think I have a lot in common with the burrowing little critters. I too find myself burrowing away in the cold of winter, or as Swamp Woman puts it, trolling myself away in my cabin in Rambling Harbor. I like doing that. When I am forced by one perceived necessity or another to go into the larger world, I crave my cave all the more.
I think the best thing that ever happened to Groundhog Day was the 1993 comedy starring Bill Murray, Andie MacDowell, and Chris Elliott. Murray plays Phil Connors, an arrogant Pittsburgh TV weatherman who, while covering the annual Groundhog Day event in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, finds himself repeating the same day over and over, including indulging in hedonism and committing suicide several times. Finally, he begins to re-examine his life and priorities. Hell, I do the same thing on the 4th of July, Thanksgiving, New Year's, Christmas, and for that matter, Sadie Hawkins Day. Sadie Hawkins Day is November 15 (though there is a whole story behind whether its creator, Al Capp, meant it to be the 15th of November), and I get especially reflective on that day because it can be a little nerve-wracking. On Sadie Hawkins Day, women and girls take the initiative in inviting the man or boy of their choice out on a date, typically to a dance attended by other eligible males and their dates.
By now, you are no doubt asking yourself at least two questions: Why is Dan writing about Groundhog Day and Sadie Hawkins Day, and why am I reading this? I have one answer for both questions. It's more fun than writing about politics and a lot more fun than reading about politics. If I had gone into a tirade about my least favorite cartoon character Donald "The Fool" Trump," would you have read this?
In the podcast there will be a few more odd things I've thought about this past week and of course the ever-popular rock-and-roll timeline. Join me on the shores of Rambling Harbor.
Here’s one from the dark corners of the 12th Man files:
An irritated Seattle fan has started a Change.Org petition to ban Cam Newton from playing in our own CenturyLink Field. Andrew Tilton started the petition after Carolina Panthers quarterback Cam Newton threw a 12th Man flag – handed to him by a fan in the stands - to the ground, during his victory lap after Seattle’s defeat.
People are calling Newton “classless” after the incident, but this petition goes a step further…and it’s making Seattle fans look like reactionary nitwits. This guy doesn’t speak for us, okay?
Speaking of…uh…speaking, Andrew Tilton called into our morning show, and we discussed his petition. Migs started things off on a friendly note, asking Andrew how he felt about embarrassing the entire Seahawks fan community, not to mention the city of Seattle.
Andrew says it started as a joke, but he seems to have embraced the attention that his campaign has gained. I just can’t get behind his thinking, but pointing out the idiocy of his plan was completely fruitless. I can argue with the best of them, but Andrew Tilton proved himself to be an UBER-TROLL.
You can’t even bother with people like that, because they’ll never admit that they’re wrong, especially if they’re continuing to get the attention that they so desperately crave. In fact, I now firmly believe that Andrew Tilton isn’t even a Seahawks fan! This whole thing is a big screw-around, just to ride the publicity wave and give real fans a hard time while their team is recovering from a big loss.
Of course, we’re always happy to hear your opinions, even if you don’t agree. What do you think about the campaign to ban Cam Newton from our football field, gang?
What’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever done out of anger? Speaking as a guy who has dealt with a personal short fuse (no, not THAT one) for most of his life, let me tell you that my own list of rage-inspired dumbness could fill up a whole show…but I’m not as dumb as THIS guy:
A minor-league hockey player named Justin – and yes, he lives in Florida – recently got mad at his girlfriend, and the end result was a disaster. Justin took all of the love letters his girlfriend had written him, doused them with gasoline outside of his apartment building, and watched them burn.
Unfortunately, Justin didn’t have any skill in the “fire control” department, and he ended up burning the front of his apartment building! Thankfully, the sprinkler system kicked on, and the fire was eventually suppressed before it destroyed the entire building. Justin was arrested for arson, and he’s been suspended from the Florida Everblades hockey team.
Can you imagine the treatment this guy will get from his teammates in the locker room, assuming he ever actually returns to hockey? This is beyond embarrassing, so the pile of ammunition will be considerable…and that probably pales in comparison with the taunting he’ll take from hockey fans, and opposing players! They’re not well known for their restraint and good manners, you know…
Let’s hear your confessions, Rock-A-Holics! Tell us about YOUR angry bonehead moves!
Today's blog comes from one of my mentors, Dan Sanders:
Today I disconnected from part of my history. I canceled one of my websites, Creative-Treehouse.com. It was first established on a cold December night in 2009 after my wife and I figured out just the right name. “Creative” was what I wanted to be, and “Treehouse” seemed right because our porch was surrounded by trees. The year 2009 was a pretty good year for us. Jennifer’s cancer was quiet, and we did what we had done for the previous 12 years. We hoped and lived one day at a time. Withdrawn from the Internet, Creative Treehouse will live as long as I do in my memory, and when I am gone there will be no trace left behind.
The last 12 months, and especially this winter, has been a time of loss. David Bowie, Glenn Frey, Dale “Buffin” Griffin, Leonard Nimoy, Yogi Berra, Wes Craven, Frank Gifford all passed. Years ago, when Jerry Garcia died, it hit me hard, but the passing of Glenn Frey has left me reeling.
For a few years, I had an overnight radio gig—you know, the typical 2 a.m. to 6 a.m. shift—and almost every morning I would end my show with the Eagles cover of “Ol’ 55” and ride home with lady luck. When I posted this on Facebook, it was nice to hear some say they remembered it well. I once saw a poster that said something like “Someday you will be just a memory to someone. Try and make sure it’s a good one.”
The Eagles were formed in Los Angeles in 1971 by Glenn Frey, Don Henley, Bernie Leadon, and Randy Meisner. Their self-titled debut album was released in 1972 and had three top 40 singles: "Take It Easy,” "Witchy Woman,” and "Peaceful Easy Feeling." In 1972, I was just finding a new sense of freedom, having spent almost two years in Danbury Federal Correctional Institution for my continued resistance to the Vietnam War. In my story “Mountaintop Days,” I wrote: “In prison, either you get a number and lose yourself or you resist and lose what little benefit the system offered for falling in line. There would be solitary confinements and hunger strikes and we would serve our time, but we did not surrender our souls. We did not fall in line....” On the outside, I tried to adjust and fit into a new life, but there were still almost three more years of the Vietnam War to struggle against, and the Eagles became a very important part of the soundtrack of my life and my return to normal. I don’t know why, but I especially developed a liking for Glenn Frey. Perhaps I sensed a rebel in him.
Glenn Frey has left us, but a world of memories and great music remain. I canceled that website because of lack of funds (that “Become a Patron” button at the top attracted only one donor, my dear friend Cher Duncomb). But that was just a website of memories, and I have a lifetime full of them. Someday I will tell my granddaughter about “Mountaintop Days” and about the Eagles, and one reason I will be able to do that is that Glenn Frey made music that touched me and left good memories. Thank you, Glenn Frey.