Commentary - Humor - Nonsense - Sarcasm - Satire - Whimsy
On the Road with DR. EVIL
Vol. III, No. 2, 1 February 2001
A Missive of Irregular Frequency and Questionable Worth
THE
INAUGURAL BALLS
Dubbya and the Missus were honored with eight official inaugural balls, black-tie affairs that incidentally raised a ton of money for the RNC. So as to poke Gore once more in the eye, one of them was sponsored by the great state of Tennessee. Others were sponsored by Texas, a white tie and boots affair, and by Wyoming, New York, New Jersey and Pennsylvania. A couple others were sponsored by GM and Enron. You may or may not be aware of it, but, originally, Cheney was from Texas, but since Presidents and Vice Presidents cannot be from the same state, Cheney quickly claimed Wyoming as his state of residence. Wyoming normally has a waiting period for such declarations to become official, but the great deed was quietly done between the gift from the Supreme Court and inauguration day. But, I digress. Oh yes, the great state of Florida also sponsored a ball.
During the news coverage of the various gala events, more time was spent on the one given by Florida than on any of the others. Dubbya was shown dancing first with the Missus, then with one of his daughters. He awkwardly tried to twirl his daughter around and nearly displaced the apparatus holding in check her right boob. (She caught it just in time.) Katherine Harris, Secretary of State for Florida, was introduced to the crowd, with a great deal of enthusiasm, as having delivered the state to the Bush camp. What do you suppose most of the voters in Florida think of that? Conspicuously absent from the coverage was Dubbya’s kid brother Jeb, Governor of Florida. I cannot help but believe that, if he was there, the media would have been sure to cover him. But, " Nope," he was nowhere to be found. I was reminded of a recent TV news magazine treatment of the Bush family. Jeb was, and is, the scholar, having been graduated magna cum laude from the University of Texas. Dubbya barely made it through Yale. Dubbya was and is the bullying big brother and thought it funny that he dominated his younger brother. Jeb's political career is no doubt essentially finished because of the shenanigans in Florida. And don't expect to see much more of Harris. Both have exhausted their usefulness and will be discarded. Then I was reminded of a very disturbing and perceptive political cartoon by "Vint" in "The New Republic," several weeks ago. It was a takeoff of Michelangelo's magnificent marble sculpture, the Pietà - the Virgin, in mourning, cradling across her lap the body of her sacrificed son, Jesus Christ. Except that the Madonna had the face of Barbara Bush and Christ the face of her son, George W.
DIABOLICAL
PAGINATION
From time to time, I've noticed that full-page ads in magazines tend to disrupt pagination. For some reason many advertisers apparently don't like the distraction offered by a teeny tiny number down in the lower right or left corner of their ad. I have found this particularly irritating because, after consulting the Table of Contents, typically on page 2, I sometimes had trouble actually finding an article of interest. On a recent visit to my favorite evil barber, I made the mistake of picking up the August 2000 issue of "Motor Trend." An article titled "Detroit Muscle 2000," covering the Corvette Z06, the Dodge Viper RT/10 and the SVT Mustang Cobra R for the new model year, was listed as beginning on page 30. How can any red blooded American pseudo race driver pass up an article with this kind of moniker? But where the hell was page 30? I looked and looked. Page numbers were missing big time. I found pages 1 through 16 OK, then nothing. Nothing! No further page numbering until page 66 - that's 50 pages without pagination. This time it was more than just advertiser paranoia. Even pages just half filled with ads were deprived of page numbers. How would advertisers react if their ads were listed in a Table of Contents (which they occasionally are) and there were no page numbers anywhere near their ads? Does this speak to the real purpose of some magazines?
JOE
LOUIS VS MAX SCHMELING
The History Channel presented a fascinating and depressing program on Joe Louis during January. Here's the gist of the story.
On their first meeting in the boxing ring, Max Schmeling beat Joe Louis. This was in 1936. Adolf Hitler and the Nazi Party proudly touted Max as the epitome of teutonic prowess. When he and Louis met a second time, in 1939, Louis returned the favor by thoroughly cleaning his plow in 124 seconds of the first round. The German press was not permitted to present an accurate account of the bout, but, instead, characterized American ring officials as gangsters, which, of course, they may well have been, and Louis as a dirty fighter. Schmeling went back to Germany in disgrace. Shortly after that, at age 33, no doubt as punishment, he was forced into the German army to become a paratrooper. Fortunately for him, he aggravated an old back injury on his first combat jump and was discharged.
In the meantime, the "Brown Bomber" went on to become the greatest heavyweight in history. He was the heavyweight champion for 11 years – 8 months, the longest of any boxer. He enlisted in the U.S. Army and spent a great deal of his time promoting the Army to attract more Blacks. When Joe witnessed an inequity, he called the War Department and it was taken care of. He did much to improve conditions for the black soldier. He held many fund raisers and exhibition bouts, donating the proceeds to patriotic and charitable causes. This, unfortunately, was the beginning of big time trouble. The proceeds from these events were typically presented to Louis in the form of checks, made out to him. Joe just signed them and turned it over to the cause. Having no sense of fairness, the IRS considered these checks as income and pursued Louis for income taxes due thereon. Over time, the combination of IRS persecution, the usual predatory hangers on, excessive generosity, and naive money management increased Louis' indebtedness to over $1M. By this time, he was an elder statesman of professional boxing. He retired in 1949, but because of his indebtedness, he returned unsuccessfully to the ring the next year. His last bout was in 1951, when the eager contender, Rocky Marciano, knocked him out of the ring. In a further attempt to pay off his indebtedness, he was reduced to exhibition wrestling. It was embarrassing for him and for his fight fans.
He and Schmeling maintained contact over the years and eventually became quite good friends. Schmeling had become a big time executive for Coca Cola-Germany. Joe had hit rock bottom. There was no relief. There was no one to stand up for him. No American stepped forward to clarify his record with the IRS - but there was Schmeling.
Upon hearing of Louis' financial situation and that he was in very bad health, Schmeling contacted a friend in the U.S.(which is another story) and, after Louis' death, an envelope was handed to his widow. It was money - hopefully enough to satisfy at least some of his creditors.
MORE
CONSEQUENCES WELL EARNED
After reading last month's "Dr. Evil," my evil son described to me an experience similar to the one I had included under the heading, "Consequences Well Earned."
He was in his
pickup truck, waiting for the traffic light to turn green at the
exit from the mall parking lot. The driver of the U-Haul ahead of
him was becoming impatient and inched forward, then stopped -
several times. The sudden movements caused the roll-up door at
the back of his truck to unlatch and begin to creep up,
eventually to about half way open. He had a full load of rather
nice cherry living and dining room furniture. My son honked his
horn, leaned out his window and yelled, "Your door is open."
The other driver made eye contact with him in his side mirror and
mouthed one of the strongest of all vulgarisms and delivered an
expertly executed "finger." In spite of the reception,
my son got out of his truck to warn the driver of a potential
disaster. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) the light
changed and he took off, accompanied by another fusillade of
vindictives and finger gestures. He returned to his truck and
pulled out into traffic and found himself two or three cars
behind the same driver at the next traffic light. Again he
started to get out of his truck to warn him, but again the light
changed and he took off. This time the contents began to teeter
back and forth and inch further to the rear of the truck as he
sped down the hill. The downward slope helped contain the
contents, but that all changed as the truck accelerated up the
next hill. From several hundred feet my son watched the contents
begin to bounce off the truck. A cherry and glass corner cabinet
smashed into countless pieces. It was quickly followed by two or
three chairs and some additional pieces. The driver became aware
of his problem and pulled into the next left turn lane. As my son
passed him they again made eye contact. My son shrugged his
shoulders and yelled, (quote)
(end
quote).
See you at the next rest stop.
Dr. Evil
Why yes, I'm Evil.
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