Sizing Up the Opposition - Mary Carey

On Thursday, I was at my health club, flipping through Sacramento News & Review, when I noticed that Mary Carey, the porn star candidate for California Governor, was going to be performing this week at Centerfolds, in Rancho Cordova, just outside Sacramento. I excitedly pointed this out to Tessie, my aerobics instructor, who grimaced and changed the subject (different tastes, I guess). Anyway, I figured that if Ariana Huffington and Peter Camejo can campaign together, Mary and myself could campaign together, on a beauty and brains platform (I tried to ignore the little voice in my head that said there was no incentive for her to join forces with me, and that my motives for even thinking about such an alliance were mixed, to say the least). Nevertheless, throwing caution to the winds, off I went, to catch the 11:30 p.m. Friday evening show at Centerfolds.

I paid the $19 cover charge (which covered all drinks) and entered the club. Many men, and a few women, sat at numerous tables scattered about two stages. Many pretty women strolled around in various, provocative states of undress. Some of the men seemed to be well known to the women, and were quickly dragged off to locations unknown. A pretty blonde waitress asked me what I wanted to drink, and I was surprised to learn the club is non-alcoholic. I got a Diet Coke and paid for it: since the drink was already paid for, she soon began buzzing around with replacement drinks every few minutes (my general, if limited, experience in these establishments is that if you tip liberally and indiscriminately, you will have a lot better time than if you try to be parsimonious).

Then the show started! Mary Carey came out in an orange jumpsuit, which was quickly doffed to reveal something much skimpier. Then she began dancing. Her dance was energetic enough, but was compromised by the slippery floor under her platform shoes, and the frequent stops to jam the faces of appreciative patrons between her ample breasts. When she lay down on her back and her legs traced opposing arcs to the floor, her platform shoes made distinctive clicking noises when they simultaneously touched down.

The announcer stated that the most enthusiastic fan shouting 'Mary Carey for Governor!' would get a free videotape of Mary Carey. Under most circumstances, I'd be that most enthusiastic patron, but given my own candidacy, I had a hopeless conflict of interest. Attention focused stage right, where a rather lackluster group of men tried to get her attention. Mary Carey indicated by semaphore that she wanted more enthusiasm, and started doing jumping jacks as a suggestion. One little guy in a white shirt starting doing jumping jacks with vigor, and to me it looked like the contest was over. But Mary Carey was not satisfied, and she indicated that she was going to fling the VHS tape into audience as if it were a garter at a wedding. She lost her grip with the first toss, and the tape landed flat on the stage. The second toss went better, but she brained three guys with the spinning tape before it finally came to a stop - the enthusiastic little guy lost out.

Then attention turned to a fellow named (appropriately enough) John, who was made to lie prostrate on stage, while Mary Carey used a rubber device and an unknown fluid to simulate several sex acts. About this time, I started talking to the pretty blonde waitress. I indicated that I was Mary Carey's rival - another candidate for governor. The waitress smiled and said she was for Schwarzenegger herself. I replied, rather defensively, "well, only if you're into that sort of guy." She asked if I was a politician, and I said no: science instead, specifically meteorology. Then she said: "I think this whole governor's race is a joke!" I started to argue with her, but given the new round of hooting and hollering stageside, I had to confess she had a point - I said, "well, it COULD be!"

I noticed several strange things about the club - it seemed to be violating an important rule of physics, namely the Conservation of Men and Women. Several times, parades of nubile women came down from the stage, and appeared to vanish into the house. I wondered if men were getting dragged off for lap dances, but there seemed to be just as many men in the seats as before, but still, the women were gone. I eventually concluded I just wasn't paying enough attention to understand what was going on in the house, distracted as I was by the action on stage, the pretty blonde waitress, the loud music, and my numerous Diet Cokes. The waitress let me know I could meet Mary Carey after her performance in the VIP lounge, but fearing the likelihood of making unintended contributions to the Mary Carey for Governor campaign, and the certainty that her unbelievably-large platform would overshadow my much-more-modest springboard, I demurred. So, I left without approaching the candidate, after spending only $25 in 35 minutes ($19 for the cover charge, and $6 for drinks - still, cheaper than a casino!)

Something about the experience suggests to me that Mary Carey is not a serious candidate for governor. Nevertheless, I look forward to her upcoming gubernatorial debate with mall security guard Gary Coleman on E!

Peter Pan This Weekend!

DMTC's youth workshop Cast 1 is presenting Peter Pan this weekend. Next weekend, Cast 2 performs. See both shows! Here is my favorite Peter Pan link. When my friend Carrie saw this she said:

"I do NOT believe. And I will not even go there about the green outfit."

Charlie of 666 - A Memoir of World War II

Finally finished this strong memoir of an artilleryman, Corporal Nathaniel Blumberg, in Charlie Battery, 666th Field Artillery Battalion. My father was in Baker Battery, so the memoir has a special place in my heart.

Here is wisdom. Let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast; for it is the number of a man; and his number is six hundred threescore and six (The Revelation of Saint John the Divine, Chapter 13:18).

Several points seemed to stand out in my mind:

1.) The pre-war experiences he described at Utah State University, Logan, seemed very remote from the distance of more than half a century. I found that puzzling, because I once worked a year at University of Utah, Salt Lake City, and I've visited the campus at Logan, so there should have been some familiarity of place, if nothing else, but it just didn't seem to be there. I can only conclude that pre-and post-war college experiences - for everyone - were of quite different natures: the war changed everything, of course. And also, probably even in his own mind, the Logan years probably seem dreamlike and distant, given the European experience.

2.) Blumberg's descriptions about the Battle of the Bulge helped clarify impressions I had received as a child listening to my father's stories. I had been under the impression, from childhood, that my father had actually been trapped behind enemy lines, in hostile country, for nearly a week, but apparently that wasn't the case. Blumberg and my father had been thrust near the forefront of battle, with confused territories of control causing great apprehension, but never completely cut off from American control.

3.) Reading Blumberg's book, I now understand why my father ended up in Salzburg, Austria. It always seemed rather irrational that my father ended up there, so far from Belgium (but then no one ever said the U.S. military was necessarily rational). He described the great beauty of the place, and an adventure trying to learn to ski (hmmm.... in summer 1945? - maybe THAT was the problem), that made him swear off the slopes for the rest of his life.

4.) It was interesting reading Blumberg's reactions (and the reactions of the other soldiers) to Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Myself, I co-wrote a letter of complaint to the Smithsonian Museum in 1995, complaining of revisionist, ahistorical efforts to portray the atomic bombings as exercises in racism, etc.

5.) Blumberg's epilogue, which describes coming to terms with forgiveness for the German soldiers who were once his bitterest enemies, was very moving.

I remember, as an 8-year-old child in 1964, being crestfallen because I finally learned that, despite popular TV shows like 'Combat', the U.S. was no longer at war with Germany. I'm sure Blumberg was relieved, however, that the war ended considerably sooner than that.

Dick Morris Bumbles Again

Morris is wrong: the problem with traditional newspapers and TV news isn't bias - people can usually read past and see through bias. The problem is lack of appropriate information. Despite the pretty pictures, what we get on TV, and often the papers too, lacks context so thoroughly as to approach meaninglessness. As an example, the looting of the Iraqi national museum was not as bad as first feared, but the national archives DID burn down, something nearly everyone fails to mention. Is that oversight an example of bias, or stupidity, or just ignorance? People get tired of trying to sort that out - their reaction is that it's time to change the channel, recycle the paper, and play with the dog.

The Tape Clarifies Little Yet

How many people work in the No. 10 Press Office?

Great Stuff on CSPAN-2

Defeating Militarism and the Politics of Fear. Watch it if you can! William Rivers Pitt gives one tub-thumping, stem-winding, barn-burning speech opposed to the war in Iraq.

For Those of You Who Love New Mexico

Tonight on KDVS radio from Davis, the funniest hour-long radio show ever (at least for those of us who grew up in New Mexico) was aired: Mars vs. New Mexico. The show is available (at least for the moment) in the schedule box for the Mick Mucus Radio Show, Tuesday evening, 6:00-7:00 p.m, at KDVS (please note there are a few announcements to start the show off first). Interestingly enough, the show was produced by KUNM, at UNM, in Albuquerque, and so if this link fails, it might be available there. In any event, for sheer weirdness, I think only the California Governor's recall race can come close to competing.

Yeah, that was really some impressive work. And the jokes were very specific to the university community. The biggest groans from the audience came when they announced that the Martians had destroyed the Frontier Restaurant (a very popular place just off-campus). I noticed they missed one opportunity. Several times they started singing the 80's hit '867-5309'. The telephone prefix '867' is, of course, specific to Bernalillo, NM, just outside Albuquerque, and the idea of sending Sullen and Mutter to Bernalillo to look for aliens (of whom there are probably many, just not outer space aliens) is just too rich.

Cali, Cali

Cute cartoons about the recall!

Background on Thunder Valley

United Auburn Indian Community, and some history regarding the development of the Thunder Valley casino.

Met the Deadline!

(see the Governor Weblog)....

The Laramie Project

Acme Theater Company in Davis is presenting "The Laramie Project", a theatrical presentation of the reactions of Laramie, Wyoming residents to the murder of Matthew Shepard, a gay University of Wyoming student who hailed originally from out-of-town. The various interviews give local color to the show, but the real punch of the show is towards the end, as people gather for the funeral, when the vicious denunciations of the gay lifestyle by a hellfire-and-brimstone street preacher are met with determined street theater: lesbian 'angels', of all things. The show was really well done (remarkable, given the late hour of the performance I saw: 11 p.m. - 1:35 a.m., and the discomfort surrounding my fall, previously mentioned in this blog).

Several friends were in the show: Julia Robinson, who played (among other characters) the emergency room doctor who attended both the victim and one of the perpetrators (unknowingly, at the same time, in separate rooms); Jocelyn Price (under-used in this show because of rehearsal conflicts); James Henderson, who played the mountain biker who found the gravely-wounded Shephard; and Ian Rothman who helped tie the show together as quasi-narrator.

Interestingly enough, I found the show brought back warm memories. I once spent a weekend in the Snowy Range outside Laramie, doing snow experiments, and I once interviewed for a position at the University of Wyoming. The Snowy Range was mentioned several times in the show, and the motel I stayed at, the University Inn, was also mentioned.

After the show, I talked to Jocelyn Price, and mentioned an incident that once happened to me on the streets of Phoenix, when I was nearly gay-bashed. Instantly, waves of empathy, concern, caution, reserve, and sympathy crossed Jocelyn's face, like brilliant hues on an artist's palette (she is SUCH a wonderful and expressive actress!) I was surprised by her reaction, and then I realized she MAY have thought I might be "coming out" at that instant! No, no, no, I'm not gay, but you don't have to be gay to be gay-bashed!

On the night in question, in 1982, I was attending a ballroom dance convention in Phoenix at a hotel on North Central, when I decided to take a break and walk on the sidewalk outside. I was a graduate student at the University of Arizona at the time, and didn't have much money for newer clothes, so I was wearing old skin-tight 70's-era Angel Flight bell-bottom slacks. I'm certain, to some people, I looked gay enough. On the sidewalk, teenagers passing by in jeeps menaced me with words. I'm certain they would have followed up with deeds, except North Central is one of the busiest streets in the entire city of Phoenix, even at 10 p.m., when I was out there. So, I never faced Matthew Shepard's fate, but I felt the menace nevertheless.

The show finishes this weekend. See it if you can!

Davis Fiasco

Well, the planning commission meeting on Tuesday night didn't go as well as hoped. Still, I'm optimistic that only a two-month delay will result from the August 6th debacle.

Gerald Ford Redux

Tuesday night, I went to an 11 p.m. performance of "The Laramie Project", by Acme Theater Company, in Davis. These high school students did an excellent job (review to follow)! Returning from the second intermission, at about 1 a.m., I was descending the house-right steps when I stumbled and fell headlong down the steps. The audience of 60, or so, sat aghast for a few seconds, but I did my best to play it cool - I calmly picked myself up and returned to my seat with a smile. Jonathan Rothman (whose son, Ian, is in the show) made a couple of stale Gerald Ford jokes, just to see if I was still conscious. Today, I'm nursing the aching thumb and skinned knee, just glad that the damage wasn't even worse!

My friend says:

Happy Hiroshima Day! Boy, I almost forgot! I need to dig out my plastic model of the Enola Gay!

What Blair and Comrades Really Think

Spin, spin, spin.....

The Future Governors of California

Yesterday, I turned in some of my petitions with recall signatures at the Sacramento County Board of Elections. Even though it was just Monday, the small lobby was crowded with future governors of California. We were a bluff, hale, hearty self-confident group of folks, bumping into each other like Michelin men, wishing each other good fortune. I even started a round of hand-shaking. It was as if we were at a NASCAR rally, or sizing up quarter-horses at the State Fair, or playing golf. Going over to the Secretary of State's office this morning, I met one of the group again, a fellow named Leonard Padilla, father of Julie Padilla. At first, I couldn't remember who Julie Padilla was - I thought it was bail bond ads on TV - but after leaving the office, I now remember I've seen her name before, running in local political races, and generally getting praise in the media for her stands, despite lop-sided defeats. (My feeble memory for names, which has bedeviled me since age 38, is going to be a real handicap if this thing takes off.)

I really like the professional and friendly folks at the Sacramento Board of Elections. These days, I'm sure they are glad they work for the County, though, rather than the State.

"Seabiscuit" and the Shock of the New

Last week, I FINALLY saw a movie for the first time in months - "Seabiscuit", which I highly recommend. Because David McCullough narrates portions of the movie, parts have a feel of a PBS documentary, but the story is stirring, and the pictures of California are beautiful. I thought better of seeing a movie like "Tomb Raider", because I anticipated a video game/dungeons sort of feel, and I wasn't interested in that. Except that before "Seabiscuit" was shown, there were about 30 minutes of ads that had strange little 2 or 3 minute dramas, that seemed to me to be a cross of TV and video games, with their strange sensation of being able to change the outcome by changing a decision here or there. Perhaps these ads are standard now - given that I rarely go to movies these days, how would I know? - but it was the first time I had seen them, and I got a weird crawling sensation, as the hair rose on the back of my neck, that something new had entered the world, some new TV/video game hybrid unlike anything in the past. What did Alvin Toffler call it - 'the shock of the new'? Anyway, it was pleasing to enter the horse story and make that shocking new stuff go away for awhile.

Davis Planning Commission

Tomorrow night is the meeting of the Davis Planning Commission, when DMTC's application to have a conditional use permit for building the new theater at 607 Pena will be considered. I'm not worried - I think things will go well. Still, it'll be nice to have that out of the way.

Dithering Dinosaurs

The asteroid approaches, yet there is a difference of opinions about what to do. The mammals know just one thing - scramble!

Bob Hope

I lost my respect for Bob Hope in 1980, when I saw him live, on tour, in Albuquerque. In that venue (The Pit) he was NOT very funny. There was a lot of foul language and slashing, unfunny homophobic humor. I looked nervously around, wondering if any of the 10,000 people there happened to be angry homosexuals. At one point, Hope spotted some unauthorized person in the audience filming his performance, and he stopped the show for three minutes, petulantly whining all the time, until security hauled the offender away. I was relieved to get out of that hall, that's for sure.

Here's a British retrospective on Hope.