January 4, 2013
Before I get into the title of this here attempt, I have a correction to make: In my last Op-Ed I suggested that Larry E. Holmes “offed” himself like a number of recent mass murderers have – so I forgot to lump him in with that piece-of-shit Loughner and to allude to what a fucked up home Larry E. Holmes came from. And why even print the asshole’s middle initial – which makes him sound somewhat upper class (or like a porn star) instead of an American zombie programmed by his environment: because whoever brought him into this world didn’t have the time to teach him the difference between fantasy and reality (mind you, I haven’t ruled out the possibility that we all live in the Big Guy’s fantasy…). So my apologies to the families of Holmes’ victims and anyone else out there who is interested in making mass murderers the object of their study.
I have to thank Phil Diggs and Darrell Rideaux for taking my call following the Trojan Debacle (no horse necessary – Hell! ‘Lame’ is a Trojan Horse – with all the seeds of destruction contained within him) that I had hoped would end Lame’s tenure with Troy (see my next installment ‘An Open Letter to Lame Kiffin’). I didn’t get a chance to hear their response to me – because the phone line was cut-off and then I screwed up my radio setting – so by the time I hooked back into the station – they were onto the next caller. But I thanked them for their analyses and suggested that Lame has coached the Trojans into mediocrity and that he is no ambassador for Troy!
I also want to thank Bill Dwyre for actually answering my response to his memorial article on Pistol Pete. Bill didn’t know that the ol’ Pete M. was a legendary coke head and that his cocaine abuse might very well have contributed to his massive heart attack.
But neither Robyn Dixon; nor Bill Plaschke; nor the reporter from my beloved Times who most recently reported on the Santa Susana nuclear accident in 1959; nor any of my sons; nor friend Carlos, seems capable of calling me back…even when they tell me that they will do so.
Plaschke can be excused because I actually gave him a compliment on his article on the Trojan Debacle. The other two reporters, however, really owed it to their own thinking processes to respond to me – as they are not nearly as well informed about their subjects as they should be; and all I wanted to do was to expand a discussion with them…
But my sons and Carlos! Ouch!! They must be testing my Alzheimers and/or advancing senility (that same condition that led to the disclaimer above). Hell! I’ve even learned how to text to stay in touch with Austen, and, as I’ve noted elsewhere, I truly hate texting – because I hate anything to do with typing. If I could narrate these essays I would – but I just can’t achieve the same focus with narration.
Nick still loves to make his early morning calls and asks me to call back. I do, and then he says he has no time just then so he’ll call me back. Tyler, to his credit, has started e-mailing me somewhat regularly since he began his sojourn in S. Africa. I gather that he’s ahellova Face Booker – but I doubt I’ll ever be ready for that.
And Friend Carlos, well, though he is my favorite personage to discuss sports with – he seems to be developing holes in his sports’ memory. Or is it Me, maybe?