2076 Plastic Straws in the Wind... and the Landfill

There are two competing themes here.  “You’ll get my plastic straw when you pull it out of my cold dead mouth” and “If you put a year’s worth of plastic straws end to end, the line would reach the newly photographed black hole.

Seattle banned ‘em.  Nobody got hurt. But neither has it sparked the onset of birds and butterflies, beautiful toddlers frolicking in parks on cloudless sunny weekend afternoons.

Now, New York is considering similar legislation.   And it probably will pass.  And we’ll never get to see the first straw in the end-to-end line reach the black hole.

More often than not, New York is where West Coast trendiness goes to die.  But NY beat every other big city to the punch when it comes to congestion pricing on its busiest roads at their busiest times.  Seattle is thinking about reversing the west-to-east direction of prevailing winds by adopting a similar plan.

What the New York media have pretty much moved to the back of the bus is this: London’s already doing it. And there are stiff fines for failure to pay.

Now back to the straws.  There are a lot of them in the kitchen here at the Wessays (™) Secret Mountain Laboratory and Hideaway.  We steal them all the time. And we re-use them, and that other no-no, plastic grocery bags.

But here’s something the youngest among us don’t realize:  those lard-building sugary drinks taste better through paper than they do through plastic.  So… a win-win situation. Less plastic in the landfill, no overstuffing of the black hole and tastier ways to fertilize the growth of your pending obesity.

Digression: Coffee-to-go tastes better in plain paper cups than it does in paper cups with plastic lining.  But we digress.

Many restaurants have already converted to paper.  It’s easier and faster to do when you don’t yet have to.

No drink is tastier than a thick strawberry milkshake poured from a cold metal container into a drinking glass that’s real glass and sucked through a paper straw.

What will we do with all those plastic straws here at the lab? Probably open a straw museum to go along with our world-famous collection of cocktail stirrers from defunct New York and New Jersey restaurants.

SHRAPNEL:

--National Enquirer Shocker!! The hedge fund that owns this thing has put it up for sale and reports say a buyer has been found.  The Enquirer is trump’s trumpet.  And the moneymen know that’s bad for the rest of their businesses.

I’m Wes Richards. My opinions are my own but you’re welcome to them. ®

Comments? Send them here: wesrichards@gmail.com

© WJR 2019

2074 King of the Purges

2075 King of the Purges.

Pop quiz: which dictator was best known for purging his henchmen?

a.               Stalin

b.              Hitler

c.               Franco

d.              Castro

e.               Papa Doc

f.                 trump

g.              All of the above

Two choices are acceptable answers, (g) and (f).

Actually, all of them were pretty good at it, but (f) has done more in less time than any of the others.

The latest is the outgoing head of Homeland Security, Kirstjen Nielsen.  That’s unusual. Most good looking blonde women have staying power. No way to explain that. (clears throat.)

Nielsen’s sin?  All she did was separate parents and children at the border and put them in separate but equal cages.  Not enough. Forced resignation.  Also gone:

--the Secret service director

--the administrator of the Small Business Administration

--the Secretary of the Air Force

--the Deputy Chief of Staff for Communication

--the Principal Deputy Press Secretary

--the Secretary of Defense

--the Secretary of the Interior

--the Vice President’s Chief of Staff

--the White House Chief of Staff

--the Attorney General

--the Environmental Protection Agency administrator

--the Deputy Chief of Staff

--the Deputy National Security Adviser

--the other Deputy National Security Adviser

--the Homeland Security Adviser

--the Secretary of State

--the White House Director of Communications

--the Secretary of Veterans Affairs

--the National Security Adviser

--the Deputy Director of the FBI

--the other White House deputy chief of staff

--a personal aide to the president

--an Associate Attorney General

--a White House speechwriter

--the White House Staff Secretary

--the head of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention

--Omarosa

--the other-other National Security Adviser

--the Secretary of Health and Human Services

--the Director of Oval Office Operations

--Bannon

--Scaramucci

--Spicer

--Comey

--the CIA Director

--the other-other-other National Security Adviser

This is not the complete list.

People have said no one wants to work for trump.  That’s not true. There are people who would wear a pink slip from this guy as a medal of accomplishment.

Highlight of your career as toilet swabee in the White House? Getting fired for not being tough enough on dirt and grime.  Secretary of State? Wow, ReXXon, could you please unretire and run the Gasateria under the Ed Koch Bridge on the Queens side?

And let’s give that blonde lady a weekend show on MSNBC.  Even if it’s she who wrote the “Anonymous” Op Ed column on reigning in trump’s “worst instincts.”

Probably, Lewis Carroll’s Queen of Hearts should be on that list of purgers.  It’s the first cinematic mention of the phrase “off with their heads.”

Some of these people were purged because they were too competent. Most were fired or forced out because they were insufficiently trumpian. And since that changes for the worse every day, watch out, Huckabee and DiVorce and even Bolton should update their resumes.  

But Pence, you have no problem, at least not in this situation. He can’t force you out. Oh. Wait. Maybe he doesn’t know that and will try.

SHRAPNEL:

--Headline in the papers yesterday: “Chunk of Planet Found Circling Dead Star.” That may not be true.  Maybe Earth just took a selfie.

I’m Wes Richards. My opinions are my own but you’re welcome to them. ®

Note: I am not related to Winter Storm Wesley now ravaging the Midwest.

Correspondence? Write wesrichards@gmail.com

© WJR 2019

This is your secret weapon if you want to use it.  It protects you against being blamed for something for which you appear to be responsible.

It's been used by everyone from the CIA to your commuter railroad -- with varying degrees of success.

Early on, the spy agency compartmentalized activities so that no single spy knew the entirety of an operation.  Thus, if captured, the agent couldn't tell a hostile power the whole story.  That might end badly for the agent, but not for the agency.  The captive might even be able to convince said hostile power that he really IS a "cultural attaché, and not someone seeking secret info from say the nuke program in Fiji.

The late John Gotti, reputed gangster, said he was a salesman of plumbing supplies.  And, yes, there was a plumbing supply business with his name on it.  Does anyone think he ever sold a single sink washer?  Or even knew what a sink washer was?  So in the world of weaponry, this is a plausible denial that jams or misfires.

The Long Island Railroad loves to survey its riders.

The surveys have said the same thing for more than a century.  Dirty cars, late trains, overcrowding.  The railroad's answer?  "We have a clean train campaign.  We have a 'watch the gap' campaign.  We're trying.  Really."  Plausible deniability.

Same story with hearings on fare increases.  Everyone with something to say says it. And then they do what they please and try to sugar coat it by pointing to a hearing record the size of Webster’s Unabridged.  "See this," they'll say while waving a page of arithmetical static, “we listened.  Really."

Professional wrestling:  can the ref really say his back was turned and didn't see one guy hoist a folding chair and bring it down sharply on his opponent's head?

Here's the puzzling part.  The people who use this weapon are, well, people.  When they're on the receiving end, they look at it with the same incredulity that you do.  And then they go back to the office, the shop, the campaign trail or the squared circle and continue using it as usual.

We hear an awful lot these days about taking responsibility for our actions, often a good idea and the right thing to do.  But many who advocate this don't themselves do it. Instead, they haul out plausible deniability. 

Believe them at your peril.

SHRAPNEL:

--Of course, lately there has been an outburst of IMplausible deniability.  Example: “See! No collusion with Russia” or “The 737s are perfectly safe, look how many have not crashed.”  Who are they trying to fool?

--The answer to that question is “you.” And you know you’re hearing a lie but don’t care because the liar is --to you-- so much fun. You let him (it’s usually a “him,”) get away with it.

I’m Wes Richards. My opinions are my own but you’re welcome to them. ®

Comments?  wesrichards@gmail.com

© WJR 2019

2073 Fads

Look at me crookedly?

Be apprehensive.

You’re going to find out that

I find it offensive.

Look at me crookedly?

Be apprehensive.

You’ll find out the hard way

It’s mighty expensive.

Social fads come and go. They always leave damage in their wakes. Let's look at a few of them.

--Bell bottoms and men in stacked heel shoes and leisure suits.  Are you kidding?

--Maxi Skirts.  Say what?

--Bright yellow sports cars. “Taxi!!”

--Fedoras? They only looked good on Capone and Madonna.

These, though are only about material things,

How about:

--Just say no to drugs.  Who was Nancy Ray-gun kidding?

--“...only criminals will have guns…” Who is the NRA kidding?

--“If you like your doctor, you can keep your doctor.”  Who was Obama kidding?

--“Not a cough in a carload.” Who was Lorillard tobacco kidding?

And now, “He made me feel uncomfortable.” That’s a euphemism for “He’s a creepy old man and I know he wanted to ‘do’ me and I didn’t want that.”

That kind of thing has gone over the border and into unmapped territory.

Uncomfortable.

When the shoes are too tight, you’re uncomfortable.

When the pollen level is too high, you’re uncomfortable.

When the armchair is lumpy, you’re uncomfortable.

Since when is discomfort cause for alarm?

Apparently when some dirty old man -- maybe 19, maybe 90, kisses you on the back of the head.

There are a lot of reasons to like or dislike Joe Biden.  And there are a lot of reasons to vote for or withhold your vote from him.  But getting a nose full of some woman's hair and kissing her on the back of her head are not among either.

But this isn’t about Biden, it’s about the life of fads. Once started, a fad will peak and then will see to die, though it will forever be maintained by hard core early adapters.  And sometimes they’ll have a second life. Right now, Ukuleles are making a big comeback.  Bright yellow cars are coming back into fashion.

Coffee, eggs, artificial sweeteners are good for you or bad for you depending on the day.  This issue won’t ever be settled. But the nature of the fad reports will keep rotating in front of the lens.

Skirts grow shorter every season until they start growing longer again.

A big segment of the Democratic Party calls itself Democratic Socialist.  A small but vocal part of the Republican Party are really trumped up fascists. (Look up the definition before you send me a death threat.)

The Inappropriately Touched movement will eventually blossom into the All Men are Pigs movement, barring fair hearings for the Niagara Falls of complaints from victims of real sex crimes.

Fads are flashes in the pan.  But sometimes you can find something in the ashes.  You can still buy a Duncan Yo-Yo. Each year at Christmas time, Alvin the Chipmunk reminds us of the Hula Hoop. Somewhere, there’s a running 1956 Plymouth for sale, or a ‘58 Oldsmobile. You’d have no trouble finding reruns of “I Love Lucy” or M*A*S*H. The Liberal Party of New York is still around, though not running candidates. They sell memorabilia.

And this week, the creator of one of the biggest fads of all died.  He was Dan Robbins of Sylvania, Ohio, inventor of Paint By Numbers.

Color inside the lines.

I’m Wes Richards. My opinions are my own but you’re welcome to them. ®

Comments to wesrichards@gmail.com

© WJR 2019

2072 Bill Crowley -- A Personal Appreciation

2072 Bill Crowley (1947-2019): An Appreciation

In an age of viral internet everything, you’d think that the death of Bill Crowley would have traveled at light speed among his friends and colleagues.  But it didn’t. It took days. And it was heartbreaking and still is.  And it will be tomorrow.

Bill was a newsroom rock at the major networks.  A writer/producer and anchor you could count on for a steady hand in a crisis.  But even more important, a steady hand when there was no crisis.

He was a leading personality on New York radio. Not a megastar, but like all else about him, steady. Reliable. Better than most at it.

This was a big man. Six-feet-something, 300 pounds.  That’s a lotta rock to carry around, but easier in your 20s than after 70, especially for someone with a family history of heart trouble and a quintuple bypass in the 1990s. Bill was 71, about half way to 72.

Now, back to 1969, summertime, 50 years ago.  We had an opening in the WHLI radio News Room on New York’s Long Island. I went through dozens of tapes and resumes, and Bill’s stood out. I called him and invited him in for an interview. He asked if he could come in on his lunch hour from his summer job at a village swimming pool.

A word about WHLI. We had a dress code. Ties. Jackets. Skirts or “appropriate” slacks for the women. And here comes Bill.  Bigfoot. Red swim trunks, a “Freeport NY” sweatshirt and a whistle on a lanyard around his neck.

The owner, Paul Godofsky, passed through the lobby, then asked the telephone operator who “that guy” is here to see, then came down the hall to the newsroom to scold me.

I explained the costume and told him “that’s going to be your next newscaster” and handed him Bill’s audition tape.”  The “interview” took almost no time. And neither did the hiring. Oh, and neither did Paul’s visit after Bill’s first day on the air.

“You made the right choice and I shouldn’t have commented on his clothing.”  Damn, right, boss! Paul was stubborn. But he was smarter than he was stubborn. I miss him, too.

Bill advanced through the ranks of broadcasters faster than I did. And we used to joke that I hired him first and he got even by wedging me into job after job for decades thereafter.

Our last collaboration was at NBC’s Weekend Today Show. He was news producer, I was one of two newswriters.  There were many intervening years. But it always was hand in glove and I’m not sure who was which.

Bill freelanced for most of his later years. He ping-ponged between NBC and CBS. He was a correspondent with the NBC Radio Network. So was I, but only because he recommended me to the NBC News Vice President, Jim Farley, and then to the Morning News Director, Jim Dick on the TV side.

Bill was married twice. And I knew both of his wives before he did. His first wife was a copywriter/editor at WHLI. His second, Joan Arnold, was a “kid” in a youth group my former wife and I had led.  

Joan is the mother of his children. She is a nurse, and I can’t reach out to her because I don’t know how.

If there is a heaven, surely Bill is there now. If there is a heaven and it is divided by nation, Bill -- the Irish Poet -- is sure to be in that part.  And Bill, if you’re listening, that has to be the happiest part of the hereafter and I hope that if it exists, you’ll let me visit when my own time comes.

I respected you, admired you and I loved you. And I thank you for 50 years of wonderful collaboration, friendship, mentorship and menteeship.

Andy Fisher contributed reporting.

I’m Wes Richards. My opinions are my own but you’re welcome to them. ®

Comments to wesrichards@gmail.com

© WJR 2012

2071 April Fool's Day

2071 April Fool’s Day

Today is April Fool’s Day. It’s supposed to be a fun thing. But it’s kind of losing its punch.  Maybe it’s worth forgetting about.  After all, it trains kids to be fat.  Cute little boys and girls go door to door begging for candy. We all know that Pepsi and premarital sex are the two greatest scourges currently in our midst. Oh… and murder.

Visions of pure little kiddies drowning in Kit Kats and Pay Day bars abound.  Oh, and mini versions of Snickers bars which at this time of year come in “fun size” which means there’s even less under the wrapper than you have come to expect. And your expectations were already pretty low.

I’d like to meet the man or woman who thought up “fun size.”

And the costumes?  It used to be princesses and pirates. Now it’s Sponge Bob or Betsy DeVos masks. And are you sure that that little soldier at your front door isn’t carrying a real AK-47?

At least we seem to be past the evil homeowners who distribute apples with blades secreted inside or similar evils, although you never know when some genius in the neighborhood will re-invent that wheel.

And then there’s the trick part of “trick or treat.” Yeah, it was inconvenient to find the toilet paper in your shrubs or the eggs on your brand new vinyl siding. But for a while it was tire-slashing and mini Molotov Cocktails.  

When injection molding was first introduced to the world of low-rent face masks, kids would travel about as Nixon or Clint Eastwood. This evening, figure on seeing a bunch of trump masks. And maybe a few that resemble Putin or Kim Jong-un or one of the seemingly endless supply of Kardashians.

Then, there are the evangelists.  They say April Fool is a pagan thing. They may be right, but so what? At least pagans don’t ask for much more than a fun size pack of M&Ms.  The evangelists want your whole checking account.

You can have mine, Rev. It’s often overdrawn, anyway.

There have been improvements for children in recent years. For example, most costumes are made of fire retardant material. They’ve managed to produce makeup that doesn’t give you mercury poisoning. Safety first for the little Spiderman and mini Kardashian.

If you love gratuitous fire, find yourself a town where fracking is king. Find a cooperating homeowner, turn on his kitchen or bathroom faucet… then light a match.  You’ll see something you didn’t believe could exist, burning water.

Better you should burn your water instead of your daughter.

Hey, homey, ain’t you talking about Halloween?

Yeah. That’s my April fool joke.

WHO KNEW? DEPT:

-- Bubble wrap was invented in 1957 and was first marketed as a three dimensional wallpaper and was a failure. Can you imagine the fun we could have if it had succeeded?

I’m Wes Richards. My opinions are my own but you’re welcome to them. ®

Comments? Send to wesrichards@gmail.com

© WJR 2019