Saturday, October 30, 2010

2010 WORLD SERIES PREDICTION (Or, HALLOWEEN WEIRDNESS?)

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Very superstitious, writing's on the wall,
Very superstitious, ladder’s ‘bout to fall,
Thirteen month old baby, broke the lookin' glass
Seven years of bad luck, the good things in your past.
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The 2010 World Series between the San Francrisco Giants and the Texas Rangers is already two games old, and the Giants hold a two games to none lead in the best of seven series.

Game One, played on Wednesday, October 27th, ended with the Giants on top 11 to 7.

Game Two, on Thursday, October 28th, saw the Giants winning 9 to nothing.

Thus far in the 2010 Series, that’s a total of 20 runs for the Giants and 7 runs for the Rangers. Looks like a mismatch, right? At this point, the Rangers are ultra-ultra-underdogs to win the World Series, right?

Fifty-one times in World Series history, a team has found itself in a two-game deficit to start the Series, and forty of those teams wound up losing the series. And the last 11 teams with the home field advantage (as the Giants have) that jumped out to a 2-0 lead, also prevailed in the Series. Clearly, the Texas Rangers will need to climb out of a big hole if they’re to win this thing. Only a fool would pick them to win the World Series now, right?

I am that fool.
Put me on record as saying – now, an hour and a half before the start of Game 3 – that the Texas Rangers are going to win the 2010 World Series.

How do I know? Am I psychic? Did I get some inside information from Heavenly realms?

Well, the answers to those three questions are:
1) I don’t;
2) No; and
3) Uhm… maybe.

Very superstitious, nothin' more to say,
Very superstitious, the devil's on his way,
Thirteen month old baby, broke the lookin' glass,
Seven years of bad luck, good things in your past

Something occurred last night that suddenly gave me a flash of suspicion that the Rangers might win this thing yet. Call it a premonition. I know that "Uhp! I'm An Idiot!" for coming here and posting such a farfetched prediction. But if I’m right, then it means that my deceased Ma contacted me from “the other side” to tell me not to give up hope on the Rangers yet. And if it turns out I’m wrong, it simply means that what happened last night was a mere coincidence. We shall see.

If my prediction turns out correct, I will return here and explain how I arrived at it. But if I turn out to be all wet, we’ll just forget this ever happened, OK?

When you believe in things that you don't understand,
Then you suffer,
Superstition ain't the way . . .

Now, go get yourself a Dodger Dog and a beer and enjoy the game, my fellow American sports fans.

"Go Rangers!"

Dodger Bluely Yours,

~ Stephen T. McCarthy

YE OLDE COMMENT POLICY: All comments, pro and con, are welcome. However, ad hominem attacks and disrespectful epithets will not be tolerated (read: "posted"). After all, this isn’t Amazon.com, so I don’t have to put up with that kind of bovine excrement.
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Sunday, October 24, 2010

THE CHIHUAHUA CUTTHROAT

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'Cinderella's Shoe' Blogfest.
Don't worry guys this isn't a girlie thing.
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Below is my 140-words-too-long ‘Cinderella’s Shoe’ Blogfest entry.
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[*My thanks to DiscConnected for the inspiration.]

THE CHIHUAHUA CUTTHROAT

Both blood and screams emanated from the lump of human flesh curled up at my feet. The girl’s blood splashed across my face and her screams splashed into my ears and out again as I continued to hammer her with the same dead, stiff Chihuahua I had recently used to kill sixteen other tattooed teenagers.

Fear had gripped the city as the citizens came to realize that an unknown mass murderer was in their midst and their pierced and punky kids were no longer safe. The newspaper headlines screamed, as did these tattooed teenagers I was beating into pulp with this dead dog that I had found in an alley behind a Taco Bell. But my victims screamed, “Stop! Please don’t! Oh, someone save me!” while the headlines screamed, “Teen Boy Found Dead In Bowling Alley Restroom; Blood And Dog Hair Everywhere” and “Killer Strikes Again: Kid’s Korpse Sent To Koroner”. Well, this is the mean streets of Sheboygan where even the newspaper reporters can’t spell. But I was up to seventeen minutes of fame and counting, and that was the important thing.

On the five o’clock news they referred to me as “The Chihuahua Cutthroat” and my infamy was already benefiting the community. The Sheboygan Mall was now teenager-free and it was rare to find young punks loitering in front of the liquor stores and 7-Elevens asking adults to buy beer for them. In fact, most of these punks were now spending ALL of their time – instead of only two-thirds of their time - in their locked bedrooms playing video games. And with the pimpled people afraid to venture out of their homes, the tattoo and piercing parlors were shutting down. The way I saw it, Sheboygan owed me a big thank you.

Only I had finally miscalculated. When I jumped my seventeenth victim, this chick with seventeen holes in her face and seventy percent of her body swimming in ink, I had failed to realize that we were right in front of a donut shop. Before this Vampira-looking chick had ceased her screaming, the cops had emptied out of the donut shop and we were all scuffling in a heap on the sidewalk.

During the melee, I received a blow to the head which jarred my mind loose. I scrambled for it as it rolled away from me but before I could reach out, grab it, and reinsert it, a cop managed to yank my arms back and cuff my wrists together. I could only watch helplessly as my mind rolled up to a bag-lady sleeping on the sidewalk and bumped up against the side of her grimy face. She awoke, saw my mind lying there and, thinking it was a "chaw" of chewing tobacco, put it in her mouth. Then a smile crossed her lips. She staggered to her feet, picked up the kitten that had been sleeping beside her, and she tottered away as the coppers shoved me into the back of a police car. I had lost my mind, but I was satisfied that it had gone to a worthy home.

The court appointed me a public defender who entered a plea of insanity on my mindless behalf, and because it was determined that I was not mentally sound enough to stand trial, the District Attorney dropped the idea of seeing me sent to death row and later executed. Instead, I wound up living here at The Sheboygan Funny Farm, where I practice my basket-weaving and between therapy and lectures, me and Liz clean up the yard. Of course, in the mornings I have my cup of coffee and read the newspaper, keeping up to date on this story about someone they call “The Sheboygan Catwoman” who is using a dead, stiff cat to rid the city’s mean streets of its tattooed, pierced and pimpled people.

~ Stephen T. McCarthy

YE OLDE COMMENT POLICY: All comments, pro and con, are welcome. However, ad hominem attacks and disrespectful epithets will not be tolerated (read: "posted"). After all, this isn’t Amazon.com, so I don’t have to put up with that kind of bovine excrement.
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Wednesday, October 20, 2010

GIVE ME LAUGHTER OR GIVE ME DEATH! (My Favorite Comedies)

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Here's a list of the funniest movies ever produced, as well as the funniest TV show ever aired. I put 'em all in alphabetical order for ya because I know my letters better than I know my pluses and my minuses.
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What are my qualifications for producing such a list as this? Why am I an authority on this subject and why is my assessment unassailable? Well, if you really must know...for your information, friend...I was my Junior High School's Chess Champion in 1972. OK? OK?!!
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OK, now that we've got that settled, here's the list:
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American Graffiti [1973]
This seriocomic movie was released just one year after I won the chess championship at John Adams Jr. High School in Santa Monica, California. What can a person say about AMERICAN GRAFFITI that hasn't been said before? Well, "This movie sucks", I suppose, but anyone who'd say that would be cruisin' for a bruisin'. Get it? "Cruisin' for a bruisin'." Aw, forget it.
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Arthur [1981]
"If you get caught between the moon and New York City, the best that you can do is..." 15 or 16 martinis. Hold the olives - I've found the drinks are more effective if taken on an empty stomach.
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Better Off Dead [1985]
I can sum up this movie in one word: "Two dollars!"
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Blazing Saddles [1974. That's only 2 years after I won the Chess Championship at my Junior High School.]
"Blazing Saddles" was the first and last time I ever found flatulence funny. Phew! That's funny stuffs.
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Born Yesterday [1950; Black & White]
Can ("real man") William Holden (hiding behind clunky glasses) educate the ditzy bonehead, Judy Holliday, and steal her from tyrant Broderick Crawford before she gives up on love?
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A Christmas Story [1983]
Oh yeah?! Well, let's see you place your tongue against the frozen North Pole. Go on! "I triple-dog dare you!"
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And don'tcha just love that scene with the impatient elves and the evil Santa? Ha! I knew it, man!
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Defending Your Life [1991]
Are you going "On" or going "Back To Earth"? A love story that happens in limbo - a place between death and reincarnation. Rip Torn is hilarious as a good-hearted lawyer whose ethics might also be a shade in "limbo." Great food - no waiting!
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The Devil And Miss Jones [1941; B&W]
No, not the porno, ya Low IQer! The Charles Coburn classic! This breezy comedy from Hollywood's 'Golden Era' about a multi-millionaire businessman clerking undercover in his own store is a real hoot!
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Dr. Strangelove, Or 'How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Bomb' [1964; B&W]
Guys, withhold your "precious bodily fluids!" Don't you know they are stealing your "essence"? This movie almost makes me proud to be an American. Go, Slim, go!
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Frasier [1993-2004]
FRASIER was the funniest TV sitcom of all time! My very favorite episode may have been "Dial 'M' For Martin" in Season 6. But the 3rd Season DVD set includes the episode "CHESS PAINS", in which Frasier loses at chess repeatedly to his 'blue-collar' dad, Martin, and it drives the psychiatrist mad! Some people take the game of chess way too seriously.
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Heaven Can Wait [1943]
A funny love story about a playboy trying to settle "down." Gene Tierney in a pale blue dress is too beautiful for poetry (most gorgeous woman God ever created!) and the breakfast scene with Jasper and the Strables is too funny for words! A genuine Hollywood classic that far too few Americans have seen.
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Hollywood Shuffle [1987]
Hokey-Smoke, funny stuffs! The skit, 'Sneakin' In The Movies', has one of the greatest lines in filmdom. I wish I had a dime for every time me 'n' the boys in the 'hood said, "THAT SH!T COULD REALLY HAPPEN!"
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The Longest Yard [1974]
Burt Reynolds and a bunch of big, dumb guys wearing Brut cologne (dat's before "Men" even needed to come "back") and playing some serious football. But there's sumpin' "funny" 'bout dem cheerleaders!
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Love And Death [1975]
I still think 'LOVE AND DEATH' is Woody Allen's funniest film. It takes place in Russia in 1812. Now, LOVE, I can take or leave alone, but "GIVE ME LAUGHTER OR GIVE ME DEATH!"
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Monty Python And The Holy Grail [1974. Two years after I became chess champ.]
Be sure to see this movie because everyone should be historically educated! [I used to be a newt, but I got better. Oh, never mind! Ya gotta know the movie.]
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One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest [1975]
True, this is not really a comedy; it's a sad but uplifting drama. Still, the humorous portions (and there are many) are as funny as anything you'll find in any comedy! Without a doubt, one of the greatest movies ever made!
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The Pink Panther Strikes Again [1976]
Herbert Lom almost steals da show in what for my money is the funniest installment of the Pink Panties series... Uhm... I believe that should have been "Panther". Ya know, like Pepto-Bismol Panther?
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Plan 9 From Outer Space [1959; B&W]
Ed Wood's ineptitude as a director is what keeps me in stitches. I mean, when a cop absentmindedly scratches his head with the barrel of a loaded gun... that's funny, babe! That's funny!
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Planes, Trains and Automobiles [1987]
'Planes, Trains And Automobiles' DVD copy - $7.97
Large soda and popcorn - $5.50
John Candy's facial expressions while playing imaginary keyboards on his dashboard - priceless!!!
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Rustlers' Rhapsody [1985]
Tom Berenger as a "confident heterosexual" singing cowboy and Andy Griffith as a... uhm... "sensitive" cattle baron. Only if you know the Western genre inside and out will this hilarious movie turn you inside out!
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The Spirit Of '76 [1991]
A superstupid movie, but boy does it take me back to 1976 and my senior year at Santa Monica High School. I can't watch it without my face breaking out. I always bring soda, popcorn and Clearasil.
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Support Your Local Sheriff [1969]
James Garner tames a wildly funny wild west town while "just passing through" on his way to Australia. 1872 was 100 years before I won the chess championship at my Junior High School. Where were you in '72?
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Swingers [1996]
"SWINGERS" - you know... like Dean-O and Sammy and Sinatra in... "Vegas, Baabeee!" My Brother turned me onto this one. And here you thought he was just a real tough guy with no Sense O'Humor, didn't ya?
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This Is Spinal Tap [1984]
In 1975, I got my little cousin Johnny hooked on Rock 'N' Roll and he went on to become a singer in Rock 'N' Roll bands. Ten years later, he got me hooked on the movie Spinal Tap. We're even.
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Tortilla Flat [1942; B&W]
Superb characterizations in a very funny and heartwarming story. Frank Morgan (the wizard in "The Wizard Of Oz") as the dog-loving vagabond nearly steals this wonderful show! This is one of my Top Ten favorite movies of all time! ["We are going to drink wine!"]
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Laurel & Hardy In "Way Out West" [1937; B&W]
"Way Out West": Two oafs go West to deliver a notice of inheritance and they tend to hurt themselves. This came out 35 years before I won the chess championship. I ain't done nuttin' since.
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Who Framed Roger Rabbit [1988]
When Jessica Rabbit sings, suddenly I find that I have CARROT CAKE on the brain!
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"A laugh can be a very powerful thing. Why, sometimes in life, it's the only weapon we have."
~ Roger Rabbit
(Don't tell me that Rabbit's not a philosopher!)
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The Wind In The Willows [1983]
Based on the wonderful children's book by Kenneth Grahame, this is my favorite "stop-motion" animated picture ever. Mr. Toad is just too much - I love the bloke! ...But I'll bet I could beat the green off of him at chess. ...Well... we'd better make it just a "gentleman's/gentletoad's bet". (I'm outta practice.)
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Checkmatedly Yours,
~ Stephen T. McCarthy
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YE OLDE COMMENT POLICY: All comments, pro and con, are welcome. However, ad hominem attacks and disrespectful epithets will not be tolerated (read: "posted"). After all, this isn’t Amazon.com, so I don’t have to put up with that kind of bovine excrement.
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Sunday, October 3, 2010

ZOUNDS!-REALLY!-OOPS! (Or, “MEET ME AT THE FREMONT AT NINE O’CLOCK” – Part One)

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Yep, it was time again to get the hell out of Hell (a.k.a. Phoenix, Airheadzona). I went to “the city that never sleeps”. New York? Fuhgeddaboudit! I went to the party capital of the nation. New Orleans? Bayou a brain! I went to “Sin City”. Yeah, that’s right: Las Vegas, Baabeee! What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas ‘cause no one can remember nuttin’. It’s always Blackout Time in The City Of Lights.
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But I knew y’all would want to know what I did there, so I took notes . . . on cocktail napkins. Here’s what I wrote, as near as I can make it out:
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Sunday, September 26:
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I didn’t get “on the road” until 9 AM, although I was shooting for an 8 AM departure. So, shoot me if I’m late.
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The musical soundtrack I had selected for this trip consisted of the following 8 albums:
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The first song I heard on this journey was “My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys” by Waylon Jennings. And that’s as accurate a statement as has ever been made. In fact, it sounded so good that I played it twice before moovin’ on. Of course, the ‘Wanted! The Outlaws’ album also contains the song “T For Texas” by Tompall Glaser, and if you’re going to drive through the rugged desert, you really ought to have a version of “T For Texas” with you, and I think Tompall’s slow, almost lazy take on it is one of the very best.
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Coming into Kingman, Arizona (hometown of the late Andy Devine), the soundtrack to the movie ‘Once Upon A Time In The West’ was playing. It was perfection. If you’re ever going to take a road trip through the Western states of the U.S.A., trust me, you need to bring along this soundtrack. Nuttin’ much goes better as musical accompaniment to a view of buttes, open sky, and lots and lots of dirt.
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[A train rumbles through the desolate Arizona landscape while the musical soundtrack to 'Once Upon A Time In The West' plays in my automobile.]
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When I reached Las Vegas and got off the highway and drove West on Flamingo Road, the Tom Waits’ soundtrack to the Vegas-set movie ‘One From The Heart’ was playing. Again, perfection. But then I planned it that way. You see, I’m smarter’n the average bear, and I take the terrain I'll be traveling through into consideration when selecting the music I will want to hear on a road trip.
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I checked into my room on the 29th floor at the Circus-Circus Hotel And Casino at about 3 PM. They had put me in the back of the upper-most floor, away from all the other guests, as my reputation had preceded me. (The authorities at Avalon on Santa Catalina Island have been searching for me for the last 28 years. But they’ll never find me now because this grey hair is the perfect disguise. Mwuha-Ha!-Ha!)
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[And now STMcC,
He fell back in his room
Only to find Gideon's Bible]
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[Dont'cha just hate it when someone pisos on the mojado?]
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Once all my shi--, “stuffs” was unpacked, the first order of business was to get down to Battista’s Hole-In-The-Wall Italian Restaurant. I hadn’t been there since 1990, but I remember it as being really good (and all the wine you can drink with dinner).
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Well, it’s still all the wine you can drink with dinner, but sadly, with my now more mature tastebuds, I’d have to declare it an overpriced 3.5-star restaurant pretending to be 5-star. The fact that they serve the red wine chilled – CHILLED! - and let in Pittsburgh Steelers fans gives it away as being a poser. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t “all that” either.
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I was seated in the small booth adorned with a signed 8x10 photograph of Edie Adams and I took this picture of the picture:
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While I was looking at Edie Adams, I was mistakenly thinking to myself “Edie Sedgwick”. I figured y’all wouldn’t know who Edie Sedgwick was and I was going to tell you how she was Paris Hilton before there was a Paris Hilton. You know, a woman with no discernable talent and who is famous for simply being famous. But as it turned out, it was I who didn’t know who Edie Adams was. Oh well, stuffs happens.
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It was sad to find that in Battista’s Italian Restaurant, the old mafiosos have been reduced to playing the accordion tableside for tips. Rocco and Louie and all the rest used to OWN this town, now they’re playing “Beautiful Ohio” for Vegas visitors from The Queen City. Corporate America, give Vegas back to the blokes who were willing to die (and kill) for it!
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Walking back up The Las Vegas Strip (yeah, walking, not driving! – I said it was “all the wine you can drink with dinner”, didn’t I?) to my Circus-Circus digs, I found myself stuck in wall-to-wall, sneaker-to-sneaker, loin-to-butt, two-legged traffic on the sidewalk running alongside Las Vegas Boulevard. There was this tall, lanky guy in front of me, drunker’n hell and giggling like a schoolgirl for no reason whatsoever. I simply couldn’t get around him. When I zigged, he zigged; when I zagged, he zagged; when I swung left, he swerved left; when I moved right, he stumbled right; when I zipped left, he teetered left, when I ran right, he tottered right. It wasn’t that he was deliberately attempting to keep me from passing him on the sidewalk (unless he had eyes in back of his head), but by some strange, intoxicated coincidence, he seemed to anticipate my every move to get around him and he thwarted my every attempt.
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I finally reached my boiling over point, blasted past him on the right when he leaned to the left, with my shoulder lowered a la my high school football days, and I said to him as I went by, “Get the f##k out of my f##kin’ way!” Which sadly fell one “f##k” short of the all-time record of three “f##k”s in a single sensible sentence, set by Joe Pesci in some old movie when he said, “F##k you, you f##kin’ f##k!” But that guy was simply in my way for the last time. I may be going nowhere to do nothing, but by gobs, I’m in a hurry to get there and not do it!
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But even after passing that overgrown, sobriety-challenged, giggling girlboy, I still found myself in a sea of humanity (my least favorite kind of sea). But then I became aware of the fact that the lithe young woman in front of me was flowing through the sneaker-to-sneaker, loin-to-butt crowd all the while reading a book. For a short time – until I picked up my pace - she was even beginning to lengthen the distance between the two of us. It was the most amazing athletic feat I’ve ever witnessed (I mean, after Kirk Gibson’s 1988 World Series home run and Henry Drunkowski’s 66-shots-of-Tequila, Tijuana-to-Los Angeles drive home at 4 AM in 1985, that is). I toyed with the idea of asking her what she was reading (I mean, that had to be a damn good book!), but I was afraid she would take me for one of “those kinds of guys”, and I was afraid I would fall in love with her if it were nonfiction she was reading. But I’m still having not altogether clean dreams about that girl.
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Walking along The Strip, I couldn’t help noticing how many… uh… Well, to put it another way, I don’t think I’ve seen so many fay fellas in one place since the last time I took LSD and a wrong turn in Idaho and found myself in San FranCrisco. I would have bet that both Barbra Streisand and Bette Midler were in town, but no, strangely enough, it was only Donny & Marie Osmond. "People are crazy and times are strange / I’m locked in tight, I’m out of range / I used to care, but things have changed."
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I was planning to finish the evening with a cocktail at the legendary Horse-A-Round Bar in Circus-Circus, but to my great disappointment, I found that the bar (which my parents visited in 1974 and which is mentioned in the novel Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas) is now a (GASP!) ice cream parlor. What the--?!
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So instead, I found myself in the Peppermill Fireside Lounge and lovin’ it! I’d heard that this was an Old School Vegas type of bar, and I’d heard right. One of the bartenders told me it is the last casino-free, stand-alone bar on The Strip, that it has been standing in the same place for 39 years and that a couple of scenes from the movie Casino, involving Sharon Stone, were filmed there. I gotta tell ya, if you’re a watering hole connoisseur, this is a “must-visit” bar; the low-cut “little black dress” cocktail waitresses are all horny and I was hot! Uhm… ‘scuse me, I meant to say that the cocktail waitresses are all hot and I was… well, you get the idea.
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Now I will admit, the Peppermill Lounge does have one quirky policy. It don’t like hats. When I entered wearing my Stetson cowboy hat, bartenderboy asked me almost apologetically and somewhat timidly if I would mind removing it. I think he was afraid I might give him some static about it since real cowboys never take off their hats. But since I ain’t a real cowboy, I said, “Sure. No problem”, removed the Stetson and put it upside down on the bar beside me. What’s odd is that the Peppermill Lounge doesn’t mind a customer in a T-shirt, but the hats gotta come off. Go figure.
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But then the guy to my left – perhaps looking for trouble – said to me, “Has that hat been on your head?” I guessed that he was implying it shouldn’t be on the bar. But what was I supposed to do with it? Put it on the floor to be trampled? Set it on a barstool, which would prevent another customer from sitting there? So, when he asked, “Has that hat been on your head?” I replied, “Yeah. All day long.” And then I added, “In fact, it doesn’t like being left alone like that.” This made the dude laugh and that was the end of that; we got along very well from then on. I’d rather laugh than fight anyway.
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At the Peppermill, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Standing right near the lounge door was a cigarette machine, and people in the bar were . . . “smoooookin’!” I’ve never been a smoker, but after all this living in Airheadzona, it was so refreshing to be in the company of smokers again and to find cigarettes being sold from a vending machine. How “Old School” is that? A few years ago, the airhead Airheadzonans voted to ban smoking pretty much everywhere except in private homes (that’s next on the agenda). However, it’s not like we’re extremists here or anything. After all, an Arizona woman can still legally murder her unborn baby and call it “A Constitutional Right”. For crying out loud, we didn’t go off the deep end and ban that!
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No lie, I had fun at the Peppermill Lounge. It was great – people were smoking, drinking, talking, and laughing. The Black guy to my left and the blonde bartenderette were talking about deep-sea fishing. No, seriously. (Am I on Candid Camera?) And the platinum blonde to my right was… uhm… she was… hmmm. Well, it may be that I’m insane – certainly this has been suggested before on more than one occasion – but if I were a betting man (which I’m really not, despite my presence in Las Vegas), I would bet that the platinum blonde to my right was trying to pick me up. And this despite my recent ultra-short “skeetch” haircut. I mean, I acknowledge that I’ve been out of the hunt for a long time now, but unless I’ve forgotten EVERYTHING, by gobs, I think she was coming on to me! (Alright, where’s Allen Funt?)
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No, really, for a woman who wasn’t entertaining the thought of spending the night with me, “Platinum Blondie” (PlatBlo) was showing too much interest in what I had to say and too much interest in my Dolphins as they were losing to the Jets. But just as the Catholics don’t eat meat on Fridays, I don’t partake of female flesh on Sundays. I had my spiritual beliefs to think of, and I hadn’t come to Vegas to be “losing my religion” (not to mention losing my virginity!) I remember how Mick told Rock that “Women weaken legs”, and besides, this platinum blonde (PlatBlo) - although very nice and not bad looking - was too old for me. That’s not to say she was older than I am (she wasn’t), but just the fact that she was being served at the bar meant she was older than 20, and I’m targeting the 18 to 20 age range, which I find less intimidatin’.
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At the lounge, while we watched music videos on the TV screen behind the bar, the Black fisherman (who was going to feel sick as a dog tomorrow, but who was certainly enjoying tonight), the blonde fisherwoman mixologist, PlatBlo and I, found our conversation turning to Donny & Marie Osmond, David and Shaun Cassidy, Leif Garrett and Rex Smith. Fisherwoman said that when she was young, she had a crush on Donny Osmond and Lou Rawls (sure, I get that; they’re so much alike), and son-of-a-gun if ten minutes later a Lou Rawls music video didn’t play. (An hour later, when I walked back into Circus-Circus, I would hear Lou Rawls singing “You’re gonna miss my lovin’” through the casino’s sound system. When you have a bunch of coincidences related to Lou Rawls occurring over a short span of time like that, I think it’s called “Synchronsoulcity”.) But anyway, I loved the Peppermill Fireside Lounge and knew that I would return before this trip was over.
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Out on Las Vegas Boulevard, all these scroungy illegal aliens were passing out picture cards advertising strip joints and call girls. Here’s a two-sided card that wound up in my hand:
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I put on my Brut deoderant and spent the rest of the time that I was in Las Vegas lookin’ for Marla and Lizzy, but evidently they had both left town. The word on The Strip was that they’d gone to Hollywood to become great actresses. Personally, I’d recommend to them The Stanislavski Method – that, a push-up bra, and a tight sweater should make first-rate actresses out of them.
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Later that night, I decided to hit the Sahara Casino, but on my way there, I stopped in at a gift shop. At the Bonanza Gift Shop (think: “My bisexual lover went to Las Vegas and all I got was this lousy T-shirt and a sexually transmitted disease.”), I happened to see a magnet that not only appealed to me but also made me think of my good friend The Flying Aardvark. I bought one for each of us.
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At the cash register, this wonderful old woman (at least in her 70s), looking at the magnets as she rang up my purchases, said to me, “What does this mean?”
I replied, “Well, it’s a famous painting.”
She said, “Yeah, I know that, but what does it mean?”
I laughed and answered, “I don’t really know. I think it just means that life has got you down and you’ve lost your mind.”
And she responded, “I know exactly what you mean… but hang in there. Don’t let life get the best of you - you’ll make it!”
She was the sweetest person I met in Las Vegas. In fact, I think she may have been an angel in disguise. God sometimes sends angels to me with messages from Heaven, and my angels always adopt the human female form (but never hot females in “little black dresses”… damn it!)
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From there, I walked across the street to the Sahara and dinked around for half an hour. When I exited the Sahara Casino, I found myself on some dark and empty backstreet, so I just started walkin’, and right on cue, here comes the beefy dreadlocks dude walking toward me from out of the shadows. I deliberately locked my eyes on his and stared him down with that look that says, “I’m from the mean streets of Bel Air and I have rough lawyers and tough judges in my hip pocket, so don’t you mess with me!” And dreadlocks dude . . . he didn’t even ask. Just walked right on by. Forget the imaginary lawyers and judges, that dreadlocks dude wouldn’t have messed with me anyway because I’m built like Serena Williams and I’m twice as Black. (Heck, I ain’t never held a tennis racket in my whole life!)
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Back in my 29th-floor room at Circus-Circus, I prepared to hit the sack. I’m a seasoned traveler and I know to pack earplugs for a quiet night’s sleep (don’t want my own snoring waking me up) and a safety pin to seal the drapes and prevent sunbeams from seeping into my room in the morning and making me conscious before the breakfast buffet has turned into the lunch buffet. When I go to bed, I want it to be soundless, lightless, and sobriety-free. And it was. It was PlatBlo-free, too, I swear it!
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Continued in Part 2
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~ Stephen T. McCarthy
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