Great Movie: ''As Good As It Gets''

Melvin Udall is not a nice man. We gather this from his first moments of introduction to us. He grabs a small, adorable dog and throws it down the garbage shute, while uttering a few choice words of meanness. With that one horrible act against Dogkind everywhere, we start a comedy........ ''As Good As It Gets'' walks the fine line of hard comedy and genuine pathos. There are times in this movie where it almost dares you to like and embrace it. The screenplay, by James L. Brooks and Mark Andros, has sharp observations about human behavior and the universal need to be loved, no matter how nasty and difficult the person is. Jim Brooks mines this territory with confidence, because, he is experienced in dealing with his movies the discomfort that sometimes comes with being a living, breathing human being. He co-created the legendary shows, ''The Mary Tyler Moore Show'', ''Rhoda'', ''Lou Grant'', and ''Taxi', while writing, directing, and producing ''Terms Of Endearment''---- another movie with tangled relationships mixed with tangled emotions. On ''As Good As It Gets'', he also does double duty as director. Which is good, because with his having such a beast as the main character, it takes the deft hand of the author to pilot the direction of the plot. Without him living the characters and their fears and triumphs personally, the whole intention of the movie could be lost in translation....... The plot is simple: three lonely human beings, as diverse in life as can be, find the common ground of love. The main plot involves Melvin Udall, a racist, homophobic, anti-women, anti-world, OCD, successful author. His routine in life is to be a professional nasty person. The public Melvin is hiding the private Melvin, who is a man easily hurt and looking for someone to understand him and to love him. Clearly, as the movie progresses, there is a good man lurking underneath all of the hostility, a man desperately in need. And, he finds that need in the second major character, Carol the waitress. She works in the coffee shop that Melvin goes to everyday. Carol is a worn-out victim of the world. She has a son who is always sick, although, the doctors she takes the kid to are of no help. She is single, lonely, in her desperate need to be loved and cared for. The third major character in the story is Simon, the gay artist who has the misfortune to live right across the hall from Melvin. Simon and his lifestyle are ripe targets for Melvin [it is also Simon who has the dog that Melvin discards to the trash bin] and Melvin is never shy of saying what is on his mind. Simon also is a victim, but of a prejudiced world that does not accept homosexuals. His parents disown him, for the most part. But, he finds his love in the world of art, not in a person. Soon, however, he is taken by a street hustler he has paid to pose for a new portrait he is painting. Simon is beaten up and loses the desire to work.......... James L. Brooks has set up the movie nicely. Separate stories that freely mingle with the central theme. There are much laughs up to this point. And, in a remarkable example of Brooks and his genius, touching moments involving human behavior settle in, along with the rollercoaster story of three lonely people. Naturally, this is a tricky area, a virtual landmine of possible miss-steps. It takes talented actors to steer the course for the rest of the movie. And, James L. Brooks has cast his actors well....... Greg Kinnear was just from the TV show ''Talk Soup'' when he signed on to play Simon. He had another movie under his belt, the poorly received remake of the Humphrey Bogart/ Audrey Hepburn/William Holden movie, ''Sabrina''. The updated version starred Harrison Ford and Julia Ormand. It was a forgettable retreat of the classic original. But, it did boast the presence of Kinnear. That movie showed he had real acting chops. Greg Kinnear brought depth and understanding to his role of Simon. When homosexuals are portrayed in movies, there is a real temptation for the actor to play the stereotype, all swishing and prancing. But, Kinnear [aided by a smart script] does not fall into predictable behavior. Along with the depth of the role, Greg Kinnear brings an enormous likability, which seems innate to him. You care about Simon and want him to find someone to love because he deserves to be loved. A strong supporting performance by Greg Kinnear that rightfully garnered him an Oscar nomination. [He lost to Robin Williams in ''Good Will Hunting'']......... Helen Hunt plays the waitress, Carol. Helen Hunt just has a few speeds to her talent, not much versatility. Which is fine for certain roles. And, her portrayal of Carol strikes all of the right notes. She is sassy, brassy, able to take charge. But, Hunt is also vulnerable, sad, emotionally stunted in the part. All of these ingredients add up to a tasty stew of acting choices that shine. I should also add that she does show a sexy side in the part, albeit, kinda covered in drabness. But, the resilience of Carol is the strongest impression that she makes. Her best moment happens early on, in the restaurant in which she works. Melvin has carelessly made a comment about her sick son. All of the action stops and a range of emotions flashes across Hunt's face. She is hurt, angry, indignant, and proud in these few seconds onscreen. And, then, she lets Melvin have it, full-barred. It is a marvelous moment later cited by critics as the moment she earned her Best Actress Oscar that year. For the rest of the film, Helen Hunt treats her Carol with weary optimism and curiosity, as she opens up her heart to Simon and the impossible-to- tolerant, Melvin......... And, now we come to Jack. Big Jack. He is such a beloved movie star that he only needs the one name, we all know when someone mentions ''Jack'' in a film. Nicholson plays Melvin Udall with his wonderful and unrivaled sense of dastardly behavior and warm moments of caring. Udall suffers from an intense desire to piss off the public and every opportunity. He does not care whom he offends, the man has no people filter. Except, Carol the waitress. We infer from the early parts of the story that Melvin deeply cares for Carol. Perhaps, he sees in the waitress the same wounded soul that he is. They are fellow travelers of the same emotional landscape----the walking and sad population. Melvin needs love, maybe, even more than he realizes. Beneath his venom is a man who wants to be understood and cared for. These feelings are at odds with the dominant Melvin, a man who takes on all comers and delights in the nasty, appalling front he puts out. It is a testament to the brilliance of Nicholson that he can make this character so appealing. We, almost against ourselves, root for him to find salvation, to find the better angels of his nature. Through great comic delivery and poignant moments, Jack Nicholson rightfully earned his Oscar for Best Actor......... The middle section of the movie involves a trip of the three principals. Carol and Simon get to know and care for each other as both of them try to break through the Melvin hard shell. Simon has medical bills that are choking him and he needs the emotional support of his new friends to confront his parents. But, his parents do not want to see him. At first, this deeply hurts Simon. Reaching into his hurt, Simon pulls out his independence, and the spirit of the artist is reawakened. Carol sees this and gains momentum and confidence in herself. She has recently had a big-time doctor [ wonderfully played by Harold Ramis] give her son the needed medical care he was deprived of---- and is shocked that the medical bills will be paid by Melvin. The obvious care in which Melvin goes about arranging the sick kid's welfare touches Carol and she begins to see Melvin in a new way beneath his anger and belligerence. And, in the film's very best scene, Melvin and Carol find themselves on a date in a fancy restaurant. The dialogue in this scene is quite sharp and crackling. The dinner conversation starts off in typical Melvin-form as he unkindly makes fun of Carol's dress. She instantly rises to leave as her Irish is up. But, Melvin talks her in to staying by promising a compliment to her. It is obvious by now in the film that Melvin and Carol should be together, if only he can shut up the Old Melvin and bring forth the New Melvin. And, in this fine moment, it does come forward in a wonderful confession. Melvin tells Carol his doctor prescribed pills for him--- basically, to control his moods and level out his hard-edged personality. But, Melvin explains that he doesn't like to take pills. He states that the day after a night she came to his apartment, he started taking the pills. Carol does not understand what this has to do with her. He replies, with deep feeling, ''You make me want be a better man.'' This stops Carol in her tracks. She is shocked and honored by his statement. Why this is a great scene is not just what Melvin said, but, the aftereffects of his declaration. He seems uncomfortable with what he said and reverts back to his Melvin self. Soon, she storms out, vowing never to talk with him again. The scene rings very true for the characters and their life. One minute, they are One. The next, they are back to battling.......... The final act of the movie involves the resolution of the characters and finding love. It all works superbly. The final scene earns its smile from the audience. But, there is also the question: will Melvin and Carol last, long-term?...........''As Good As It Gets'' is a comedy and a drama, a real human being picture. There are flaws and imperfections in the main characters. Just like in life. But, there are also quite touching moments to treasure. We know, in the back of our minds, where this movie may go by the end. Still, there is some doubt as to whether they will make the finish line. The message is of tolerance and understanding of those who may different from us........ Not a bad message to live by.

9/11 World

With the solemn anniversary of 9/11 approaching, I was scratching my head on what to say about something that really does not need to be stated. We all remember where we were. It will forever be seared in our brains. You remember who was around you, what room the news came to you in. You also will remember it was a fine weather day---- both here and out East where the horror happened. And, you will never forget your feelings. It came in this order: Shock......Disbelief........Anger.........And, mostly, Grief........ How could you not feel otherwise? You are human, and, we decent human beings feel the pain and sadness of fellow decent people. In your mind's eye, you planted yourself in those final moments of the victims. How you thought you would react, the actions you would take. Of course, I will never know this for sure, but, I'm thinking, in those final moments for those people, they were walking in the same numbness we had. But, theirs was a much more horrible numbness. The numbness of impending doom about to descend on them....... I also like to think the numbness they felt gave them some kind of peace amongst the madness happening around them. Of course, fear was a constant, unwelcome companion that day. That would never cease. But, let us hope, if they didn't die fast, that the fear was not the dominant emotion. Let us hope that they experienced a graceful love of the life they lived. And, a sense that they were about to go home to God......... Those images haunt us all. The planes going into the towers. The massive explosion of fire and the endless parade of smoke. And, the realization that people were dying in front of our eyes. The planes passengers were gone quickly, as were the initial victims that felt the impact of those planes. But, we also saw the remnants of this holocaust. We knew that there were people trapped in the buildings and that they were doomed to die. Along with this realization came the nervous system jarring feeling that those people in the buildings also KNEW that they were going to die. Imagine, the terror. Imagine, the chaos. And, imagine, that they were, hopefully, in that tranquil state I talked about above.......... In Washington, D.C., the terror continued. A plane flew right into the Pentagon, our center for all things defensive, and exploded. That is when we knew that we were being attacked by an unseen enemy. We thought so after the New York attacks but this sunk it in. We were at War. With whom, that would soon come........ And, over Pennsylvania, there was a struggle raging on a plane.  Flight 93 was up in arms over whom was going to win, the cowards who were hijacking it, or, the heroes who were fighting back. The heroes won the battle but lost their lives in the war......... This is all familiar territory I am covering. You know the facts and the story as well as me. You know the emotional toll it took on all of us. It is as if, a black cloud descended over us, never to depart. 9/11 is the dividing line between the Old World we used to live in and this New World. Certain times in history there are benchmarks that change the landscape of the world. Pearl Harbor was one, the Kennedy Assassination was another. 9/11 joins that group to form an Unholy Triumvirate. Never again will we be innocent. Never again will we look at the world the same way. You cannot look at what happened on 9/11 and not be changed. For the worse....... If there was one good thing that day---- and there wasn't, but I keep looking for that elusive silver lining---- it is that we showed that under the madness and horror, we can gather as a people and unite. Everyday life separates people---- by gender, race, religion, economic status. On 9/11, that was erased, if only for a small amount of time. Nothing else mattered to you than to know that your loved ones were safe. That was the universal feeling at that moment. To hug your loves. I remember in the days following the tragedy, there was a suspension of the usual public feelings, like what used to bother us about our fellow human beings was not important anymore in the wake of the disaster. People seemed a little gentler out there. An interesting thing I noticed was in the driving habits of the public. There was no competition to get somewhere fast, like normal days. No, there was an ease, if someone cut you off, so be it. That was not important anymore. I noticed in stores there was a quiet respect going on, a feeling that expressed itself in the soft way people talked. The day before we all hollered and wept our grief.  On 9/12, there was a passiveness and weary acceptance that it wasn't a bad dream after all, that humanity had suffered a jolt and we were staggering. Maybe, you were kinder that day to a stranger. Maybe, you were lost in your own thoughts. But, the overwhelming feeling was that a national tragedy had befallen us. It was time to heal the soul......... We have not recovered from that September day on 2001, nor will we ever. It is forever with us. I would like to say that the feelings in the days after the tragedy stayed, that we humans grew to become more tolerate of each other, more loving. Of course, that did not happen. We went back to our regular selves, content on just caring for our little world and the people we love. We just hoped that the outside world out there would leave us alone and let us live in peace. But, the world of craziness and madness never goes away. It seems to get closer to us, whether it is a car bombing in Beirut or a school shooting in this country. The outlaw nature of human beings seems to be getting stronger, the circle of madness tightening around us closer and closer...........

Go Cubs Go

There is just something about Wrigley Field that invokes warm memories. Maybe, it is because it is legendary in baseball as being one of the last of the old relics, a field in tribute to bygone days. Babe Ruth allegedly called his famous home run shot there in 1932 [although, that is open to debate], and the boys named Tinker, Evers and Chance plowed down runners who were foolish enough to try to get on base. Sure, there were also many World Series played there from the early to mid-20th Century, for the Cubs were the dominant National League team of that glorious era of baseball. But, there is also something else that is special about that ballpark: for us Cubs fans, it is our Second Home........ More than any other professional sport, baseball rightfully claims the spot in your heart that is also reserved for where you were born. Childhood and baseball---- for millions--- are interchangeable, they go together like hot dogs and mustard. There is a simplicity about baseball. It is easy to learn and to play. The rules are fairly easy to learn. And, the equipment you use is just as simple: a bat and a ball and a glove. We all know how to hit a ball, we all know how to catch. Whether you are good at it is another matter. But, baseball, unlike other sports, is leisurely. Some call it boring but I call it easy listening music for the sports fan. Football is more monstrous, the heavy metal music that pounds at you from all sides. Basketball is rap music, a gangland style of watch your back or you will get hurt. Hockey is a hodgepodge, a musical sports amalgam of the crazy and the talented. Baseball is the calm oasis in sports, the kind of activity that everyone can play. It cries out for the average person, the working class Joe and Jane, to suit up and play between the golden lines. You want to take it easy and not drive your system to the brink of exhaustion? Baseball is it......... I don't think it is a coincidence that baseball is played during the summertime. Yeah, it starts in the spring and goes to the fall, but, it is a summer sport, played in the best weather of the entire year. Sunshine and blue skies overhead compliment that poetic beauty being played below. Inside the baseball diamond, the young play. You start out playing baseball as children, young innocents who are fresh-faced enough to embrace the game fiercely, without conflict or prejudice. There are no jealousies and no rivalries. Just youngsters playing to have fun---- the rock cradle of any sport. The smell of the glove is forever sealed in your memory, along with the freshness of holding the bat for the first time. Grabbing a baseball and fixing your fingers in the shape of a certain pitch [the best: the two-fingered curve] and pretending to throw with all your might. And, there is also the joy of throwing the ball back and forth to someone else. It is the baseball bond of brothers who love the game. You can whip the ball hard to the other person, but, the best throws are gingerly, just extending the arm and letting the baseball loft in the air. The leisurely way.......... Somewhere in childhood, the innocence of the game is lost and competition rears its ugly head. Competition: the feeling that will follow you in life, whether in sports or in the real world. Its strange how your feelings change as you get older. When I was younger, I wanted to win like everyone else and I cheered for my team to beat the tar out of the opposing team. Never during those times that I won, or, my team I was rooting for won, did I ever think of the losing side. Yes, it is thrilling when my team cracks the winning home run and we, as fans, go crazy. But, now, as a mature man, I find part of me feeling bad for the loser, the guy who gave up the home run. I see sadness and heartbreak now as an adult fan that I bypassed as a kid. Maybe, it is only natural because of the pain and sadness we all acquire as the years pass........ But, the thrill of baseball never gets old. Oh, there were many years when its importance was never on my life radar, for, as the Smart Beatle sang in one of his last songs: ''Life is what happens to you when you are busy making other plans.'' Everyday life takes your thoughts and interest away from a leisurely sport. But, baseball has always been in the background for me. It was always there when I was ready to embrace it again. A loyal friend who would wait for me. And, it has. The Cubs were my first love as a kid and you never get over your first love. I lived and breathed the Cubs. I knew all of the players and what their numbers were. I had the Cubs hat and shirts. The Cubs were important to me, certainly, more than school. The only thing about school I liked were my friends there [and, a growing interest in girls that I can track from, I think, birth on]. The Cubs have broken my heart more times than any woman. And, like a woman, I have been angry at them, frustrated, and willing to walk away. But, I will never leave the Cubs, flaws and all. And, I will never leave Wrigley Field......... Part of my attraction to Wrigley Field in my Mom. She grew up in that area in the 30's and 40's and was a rabid Cubs fan. She knew all of the players and had her favorites. Later on, when us kids came along, Mom gave us the love of the North Siders for us to keep forever. She saw them go to the World Series several times in her youth. But, they never won. Til her dying day, she remained a Cub fans and hoped to see them win it all......... I write this because this Cubs team now is proving to be something special. They have come out of nowhere and surprised us [and, I believe, themselves] on how good they are. Very good. Possibly, great. We Cubs fans know it is not wise to put the cart before the horse because this organization is notorious from snatching defeat from the jaws of victory. But, there is something in this team. Dare I say it, but, this team reminds me of the ''69 Mets''. The team that literally came out of nowhere and won it all. It could be another miracle!!!........ Or, not. If not this year, maybe, next. Unlike previous Cubs teams that have gone to the post-season, this Cubs squad looks like they have a huge future of victories and championships ahead of them. Recent winning Cubs teams---- 1984, 89, 98, 2003---- were teams for the moment. With those teams, it was a case of ''we have to win this now because we will be bad next year, most likely.'' Not this current crop. These young guys are GOOD!! They kick ass and take no prisoners!!! And, what is even more exciting is that there are more players in the farm system just itching to come to the Big Show. The rebuilding process we were promised that would bring results HAS BROUGHT RESULTS!!! AND, THEY ARE STUNNING!!! This team could be the future dynasty that baseball has been crying for. And Major League Baseball would love it. Just think of all of the publicity that the Cubs being in the World Series would bring to the National Pastime!!! All around the world, the Cubs would be the hot ticket. Grandmothers in Peru would be talking about the Cubs. Even in the darkest caves of Afghanistan, the ISIS monsters would be exclaiming : ''The fuckin imperialistic Cubs are in the World Series! Lets wait on our next Jihad and see how they do.''....... And, if that glorious day comes [it will] and the Chicago Cubs are in the World Series, it will be played at Wrigley Field. 1060 W. Addison. The original ''Field Of Dreams.'' There will be thousands there cheering. Those cheers will be mixed with the ghosts of Cubs fans of the past, also cheering. And, in the midst of that cheering, one voice will stand out for me. A little girl who grew up in that area and became a beautiful woman, both inside and out. Her voice will rise above all of the others for me and my sister, Lisa, to hear. And, we will cheer with her........ GO CUBS!!!!!

To Paraphrase William Blake: ''When Thou Hearest An Eagle, Thou Hearest A Portion Of Genius''.......

Glenn Frey had to go to the bathroom. But, it wasn't as convenient as you may think, because he was in the middle of the desert in predawn hours. Now, Glenn might want to sleep with you in this desert, with the stars all around, but, the peaceful, easy feeling he wanted demanded privacy. So, he slid away from his companions--- who were on another planet under the influence of tequila and peyote--- and found a bush to ''go drop the kids off at''. Without going into gory details, Glenn seemed at peace here, going to the bathroom out in the open, like a desperado. Suddenly, over his head, a bird came towards him in a menacing way. Glenn, caught with his pants down, was kinda vulnerable on his exit strategy. The bird came closer, it might look like it was gonna attack. As Glenn started to panic, the bird seemed to regard him as harmless. As if on cue, the bird eyed him, and then, flew away into the great sky above, towards another destination. As Glenn Frey composed himself, he had a sudden vision. He and his bandmates were looking for a name for his new band, something original. Here, in the desert, at the famous Joshua Tree hippie commune, Frey christened in his mind what the band should be called. As the tequila sunrise greeted him, Frey and his partner, Don Henley, would named their band ''Eagles''........ Simple as that; ''Eagles''. In time, the whole world would get the name mixed up and call the band ''The Eagles''. However, this was not the correct name...... Glenn Frey was a Detroit boy. Like millions of other young people his age, Glen caught the bug of rock and roll. He recalls going to see his favorite band in concert, The Beatles. The cute girl in front of him literally fainted in his arms during the show, so in love with the ''Cute Beatle''. Glenn immediately flashed on the idea to form a band. Music surged through him. Plus, there was the bonus of girls!!!! Glenn originally had taken piano lessons as a kid but he switched to guitar as a teenager. Soon, he was playing with local bands at small gigs around Detroit. In this new world, he became friends with another local boy from Detroit, a fast-rising, gusto singer named Bob Seger. Seger, a young man barely in his twenties, mentored Glenn Frey. He encouraged Frey to start writing his own songs, along with playing music. Bob Seger would throw some money gigs Frey's way. When it came time to record the song ''Ramblin Man'', Seger hired Frey to sing background on the chorus of the song. In time, after his 18th birthday, Glenn Frey went west to Los Angeles, where the music business was thriving in the late 60's/ early 70's. Self-confidence, never a stranger, was his ally, his boon companion. Glenn might not be flashy on the guitar, but, he put his personality in his playing, forging a joy of being alive that translated to an audience. Glenn was funny onstage, a natural performer and entertainer.  He knew he would make it sometime. When he showed up on the West Coast, Glenn was penniless, like thousands of other hopefuls.......... Another aspiring musician roaming L.A., equally penniless, was a soft-spoken drummer from Texas named Don Henley. Henley played an average set of drums, no great shakes as a player. But, Don Henley possessed a voice that was his greatest asset. The voice was a mixture of wordly and raw, unusual for someone just above high school age. It sounded like sandpaper, but, in a appealing, poignant way. The voice cried out to those who were the blue-collar, the people who manned trucks late at night, stopping off at a greasy spoon. His voice was the voice of the endless road to heartbreak, a rock and roll version of Sinatra. It was a voice ringing with experience and hard times. Don grew up, not poor, but, without. Texas is all dirt and mean talking men. Don Henley was not of this ilk. He was not the type of boy who dug ditches. Rather, he sung about those who dug ditches. Like Glenn Frey, Don caught the clarion call of The Beatles. Henley dreamed the dreams of the boy who had music running through his soul. He gravitated towards the drums. And, he hooked up with local bands in Texas and other states around him. His singing brought him the attention he craved. He, too, was never short of self-confidence. However, he was still shy. When he did speak his mind, he spoke with conviction bordering on arrogance. He saw his future in California, namely L.A. Soon, he was running towards the Coast, a refugee orphan looking for the Music Home....... Somewhere, in this vast crowd of street musicians in Los Angeles, Glenn Frey and Don Henley met. It was at the famous ''Troubadour'' nightclub. A large bar more than anything else, the ''Troubadour'' enjoyed the reputation as the place to be in the early 1970's. Up and coming stars, either from the stage or movies, mingled freely with the audience. Like many clubs, Monday night was ''Amateur Night'', when you go up on the stage and show your goods as a comic or musician. Henley and Frey played that stage, but, not together. There were so many musicians plying their trade that everyone seemed to know everyone. Glenn and Don became friends in the local scene. Linda Ronstadt was another friend in this crowd. She had made a name for herself fronting the ''Stone Ponies'' a few years earlier. Ronstadt was hot, both professionally and personally. She knew the ropes and when she was looking for a backup band for herself to go out on the road, she picked Henley and Frey. They went eagerly to back Linda up, a big first step towards their ultimate goal. While on the road, Frey and Henley struck up a friendship. They both had similar tastes in music and the world. Both were not afraid to speak up, and this would cause some friction between them. But, for the most part, Glenn and Don got along. They soon left Linda Ronstadt and decided to form a band. Encouraged by their friend, Jackson Browne, they also began writing original songs together. At first, it was hard going. They both leaned towards the rock and roll they loved, but, they also had a fondness for country music. They seemed torn which way the band would go. And, the players they picked to be in their band seemed to add to the confusion. Bernie Leadon was picked to play lead guitar [along with banjo] and Randy Meisner was selected to play bass. Both Leadon and Meisner shared different tastes, with Leadon more into country and Meisner more into ballads. Finally, it was decided by the leaders of the band, Glenn and Don, to just play whatever they wanted and see which way the band drifted. The only thing missing was a name. So, they went to Joshua Tree to think things out......... Back in town, with a new name to call themselves, the ''Eagles'' went looking for gigs and a manager. They clicked immediately with audiences and were soon on the forefront of what later became known as the ''California Sound'' of the 70's. Meaning, soft, easy listening rock and country. Playing one night, they came across a little man who would become their manager, Irving Azoff. Azoff, no marshmellow he, became the band's most valuable weapon to use when fighting the octopuses in the music industry. Azoff had the ''little man'' complex, that is, he compensated for his short height by becoming a tough ballbuster. He brashly got a band a record deal with David Geffen, a mean son of a bitch himself. Soon, there would be epic industry battles between Azoff and Geffen over royalties and the marketing of the band. Still, for how brutal he could be in battle, Azoff was the right manager for the band because he possessed the right combination of drive and guts to elevate the new band to stardom. You need a powertripper to lead you to success. Irving Azoff was it. Don Henley would affectionately refer to him as ''Our Satan''......... The band would record their first album, ''Eagles'' in 1972. It was a damn strong first album, with the hits ''Take It Easy'', ''Witchy Woman''. and ''Peaceful Easy Feeling'' jumping into the charts and making them all stars. The critical response was mixed, with some reviewers applauding the fresh California sounds and others disdaining it. But for the band, it was the fulfillment of a life's dream. They were stars in music. With the fame came the money. And, the women. Like most bands that suit up onstage, the ''Eagles'' romped backstage with the drugs and the women. Orgies were commonplace. The, ahem, drill was simple: the roadies would canvass the crowd looking for attractive women. These women, knowing full well what would happen, would be invited backstage for a party with the band. And, the party was not the type of party you told your parents about. Sex and drugs and rock and roll was the call of the day  and the boys in the band indulged.......... With stardom came ego. Glenn Frey and Don Henley, never accused of modesty, had their egos inflated by stardom TNT. The fights backstage became more pronounced. This is not unusual, for all bands have these spats. But, stardom plays tricks, not all of them good. Cracks had already appeared in the band, with Bernie Leadon becoming increasingly more unhappy with the band's more rock sound. Leadon wanted the band straight country. He was overruled, though, by Glenn and Don, the group leaders and principal songwriters. By the time of the ''Eagles'' second album, the bizarre, ''Desperado''. Leadon was quite the unhappy guitarist. The album, somewhat of a concept album, took the theme of the Old West and ran songs around this theme. While they did score with the songs, ''Tequila Sunrise'', and the title track, the album failed to resonant with the public. By no means a failure, it was a sharp disappointment, the legendary sophomore jinx album. Internally, it divided the band. Frey and Henley were at odds over who's fault it was. And, Leadon blamed them both. Bernie was still pushing for the band to go full country. On the band's third album, ''On The Border'', the harder rock sound remained. With this third album, which spanned the hits, ''Already Gone'' and ''Best Of My Love'', came new blood in the form of guitarist Don Felder. Felder, much more accomplished at playing lead than Leadon, was the go-to guy for a hot solo. He blistered the guitar with his playing. The album rejuvenated the ''Eagles'' popularity. However, Bernie Leadon had seen enough. He knew the band was not going into the direction he wanted it to go, so, he quietly resigned the group......... And, then there were four ''Eagles''. Henley and Frey knew that they needed new blood in the group, someone to shake off the cobwebs that had gathered. An old friend was approached, a rock and roll fellow traveler who had a wild spin on life. His nickname was ''The Bomber'', for he liked smoking his green. Every night was a party for guitar great, Joe Walsh. And, he brought that party to the ''Eagles''......... Joe Walsh lived life in the fast lane. He drank and drugged to excessiveness. He always said that his three best friends in life were, Vodka, ''The Who's'' Keith Moon, and John Belushi. All three, in their own ways, were the stimulants that drove Joe Walsh. He lined up a very impressive reputation as one of the wild men of rock. Hotel rooms did not stand a chance against him, as TV's and furniture came crashing down. But, Walsh was a genuinely nice man and one of the most respected guitarists in the rock and roll game. His invite into the band surprised his many friends and followers. Neil Young, upon hearing that Joe was gonna be an ''Eagle'' said, ''Why do you want to join all of those assholes?'' Joe knew why. His solo career, while attaining cult status, never reached the superstardom heights of his many friends. Joe wanted to grab the brass ring, and the call from Henley and Frey put that ring on his finger, asking for a rock and roll union of hard rock and the ''Eagles'' sound. In 1976, Joe married in the ''Eagles''......... The first album of the new ''Eagles'' band would be their seminal masterpiece ''Hotel California''. This album, wildly popular to this day, made the ''Eagles'' into music legends. The combination of their old sound---- that glorious description of Southern California country and western mixed with pop---- became a sidekick to the raw electric power of Joe Walsh and his rock and roll influence. The songs were harder edged, more in-your-face, take charge, impatient in its demands for satisfaction. There still was a peaceful feeling to them but there was also a darker side, as if the band---- and its audience----- were growing up and growing darker in nature. This sneer-on -the-lip mentality was ripe for the times, for the 70's had turned more cynical, with Flower Power and the whole ''Hippie'' movement now dead and buried and crass commercialism rearing its head. All great music reflects its times and ''Hotel California'' certainly captured the mood of the times......... The overwhelming success of ''Hotel California'' was a double-edged sword for the band. The money rolled in by the truckloads, along with the groupies and the drugs. But, it also spelled the start of the end for the band. Egotistical behavior, never a stranger for this band, soared along with its record sales. Suddenly, everyone was a genius. Or, so they thought. No one said ''No'' to them, even when they needed to hear it. The members drifted in the rare atmosphere of untouchable stardom. The air was rare in this world and only fellow geniuses were invited in their orbit. But, when you drift in this world, you drift away from reality. When the cocoon is too thick to penetrate, the enemies in human nature start swirling, just awaiting the first hole to penetrate......... That hole came with their follow-up album, ''The Long Run.'' This album, released in 1979, had a slightly new lineup. Gone was original bass player, Randy Meisner. He had grown tired of the by-now constant arguing among Henley and Frey and Felder. Sides were always taken with no one yielding their ground or their ego. Meisner beat a hasty retreat from the group and he was replaced by Timothy B. Schmidt, a good bass player with a wonderful high falsetto voice that mingled nicely with their already famous harmonies. If there was a bright spot around the band during this time, it was Schmidt because the rest of the members were at dagger points with each other. The album took forever to do because the band could not stomach being around each other much. when they did perform, there were constant fights going, with no one giving any ground. The friendship of the band, so important during the previous years, was gone. All that was left was going through their paces, like a job. The album that arose from this nadir was good but not classic ''Eagles''. It showed, in their songs, the inertia that they were slogging through. It was world-weary, bitter, joyless, with no heart. Some good songs came from it but the good times were over. The band was on life-support, just waiting for the plug to be pulled........ That plug was finally pulled on July 31, 1980 onstage. It was a typical night's concert for the band just going through their paces. For some reason, an onstage row began between Glenn Frey and Don Felder. The bad feelings had been growing for years between these two [and Henley] but it came to the surface on this night. Nobody knows exactly why but there were threats going back and forth of violence, with Frey saying he was going to beat Felder's ass after the show. This exchange was caught on film and recorded. After the show, there was a fistfight but it was broken up fairly quickly. Don Felder, in the following days, had said he had enough of them all. He quit. Don Henley and Glenn Frey also had enough of each other. By the end of the year, the ''Eagles'' formally announced they were disbanding. Not with rock and roll bang of noise, but, with a wistful whimper in the desert tonight.......... Throughout the 1980's, the band would reject offers to regroup. Partly, it was because the wounds were still too raw. And, also partly, the solo careers of Don Henley and Glenn Frey were going strong. Frey had a few hits and began an acting career. Henley achieved stardom of his own with several best-selling albums. As solo artists, however, Joe Walsh, Don Felder, and Timothy B. Schmidt all floundered. They each found extensive work as studio musicians to top names. Relations between the members still were strained, though. It wasn't until 1994 that the time---- and the money offers---- seemed comfortable for all of them to reunite. Apparently, whatever differences they all shared was put aside and the ''Hell Freezes Over'' tour was born. It was a raging success, with huge crowds and huge record sales greeting them again. The boys seemed to be getting on well, with past arguments remaining in the past. They could even laugh at themselves and their reputation for all of the in-fighting they did way back when. They seemed to be good friends again, which pleased their fans. Throughout the 90's, the band seemed more mellow, more at ease with each other. Don Henley and Glenn Frey still wrote the songs and fought and laughed with each other. Don Felder forged a truce with the two leaders. Timothy B. Schmidt stayed silently in the back with his bass, letting the others take the heat. And, Joe Walsh, thankfully, licked his substance abuse problems and came back to the land of the living. But, do not be alarmed. He is still the same wild rascal he has always been........... But, again, they love to fight and have their squabbles. In the early part of the new century, Don Felder was fired by Henley and Frey. Why? Well, it seems old animosities were still raging among the three musicians. And, guess who won the argument? Felder was gone and now there were four. The more things change, the more they stay the same......... I just watched the band's official documentary called ''History Of The Eagles''. It is quite compelling for a fan of the band, warts and all. Some of the stories I knew, some were quite surprising. All of the band members were interviewed. Some come off quite well, like Joe Walsh and Bernie Leadon. Some come off poorly, like Glenn Frey and Don Felder. Don Henley kinda comes along in the middle, somewhere. But, it does not matter, because, ultimately, with any artist, it is the work that matters and will be remembered, not ''whom fought with whom''. The band, the ''Eagles'', will always be welcome music to listen to, whether in your comfy bed, or on a corner of Winslow, Arizona.......

They Come Into America Part 1

Ellis Island, in the early part of the 20th Century, was a world unto itself. Rather, it was a New World for those arriving. The washing off of an old life, mixed with the cleansing of a new one. There was the promise of America, that far away magic land that Europeans had heard about and relished going to. These people were seekers, wanting to make the new land they were arriving at a success. Many who came over were carrying a new life inside of them. Their babies would be born in this country, a fine omen for them....... If a woman went into labor upon arriving on this shore, there was immediate medical help available. But, it wasn't much help. There might be some middle-aged doctor, a little past his prime, to administer to the sick or pregnant, but, the doctor might not be competent enough to save lives. Mostly, the doctors tending the immigrants would be young medical students, some newly graduated from college, and, some still attending school. The immigrants never knew this. All they wanted was someone to help with their suffering. Especially, the pregnant women. If a woman was ready to give birth, the mother and unborn child would be hustled into a small, airless room. The doctors, hopefully, would be able to deliver the child healthy and alive. But, this could be a tall order because of the long passage across the Atlantic Ocean and all of the shipboard diseases that would be swirling around the young mother. Typhoid was the prime killer. It must be remembered that any seaward trip was loaded with danger. Many ships, leaky in steerage and structure, simply went under the waves, becoming the honored dead of the ocean. To be pregnant on a ship was to have the odds stacked against you. The Ellis Island doctors were aware of this and knew that they had to fight time, lest a child, or mother, or both, perish......... It would be hard births. Certainly, childbirth is no walk in the park in modern times with the finest medical equipment and staff standing ready. For an immigrant in these early times, it was horrific. The best instrument a doctor could use would be a pair of hastily made forceps. The instrument, boiled in, hopefully, clean hot water would be used to control the fetus in the birth canal. Many babies were positioned correctly to be born. That was the luck of the draw, as most medical people knew. And, yet, many immigrant mothers seemed to have the baby backwards, with the behind first. The forceps would prove to be the only hope a woman would have that the child would not die in the womb or be disfigured. There was no decent anesthetic, only the handy bottle of ether administered through an inhaler. That was it in terms of the instruments. A woman, no doubt terrified and delirious with pain, would put her welfare into the hands of a stranger to give life.......... If the patient had some allergic reaction to ether, then the oldest means for dealing with the enormous pain would be used: biting on a piece of wood. The Ellis Island doctors had many pieces of lumber lying around, with big teeth indentations to show for its constant use. The poor woman, delirious with pain, would bite when told to. Naturally, there was the added problem of the language barrier. The doctors spoke English, the mothers spoke anything but. Still, somehow, these miracle men would convey the innate decency and compassion to the mother. Next to medical expertise, this has always been the most valuable gift a doctor can have. The woman would follow the doctors instructions. A trust would develop between them. And, hopefully, a child would arrive in the world, born healthy and alive. Picture a woman, after living through the trauma of natural childbirth, holding on to her newborn. The baby is crying. The new mother is crying. And, the doctor is, also. They are crying for the miracle of life, the continuation of the human lineage of life. And, the mother, enjoying life's greatest experience, gazes out of a window. The child was born in this new country, the land of life's greatest possibilities and dreams fulfilled. They baby is an American.......... Various ethnic groups came to the land of milk and honey during the early years of this country. Almost every nationality fought in the wars that this country raged, be it against a foreign land or internally. Many brave men and women shared a history of achievement and successes. They also shared heartbreaking failure and crushing defeat. To say that one ethnic or religious group suffered more than another is liking keeping score of life's unfairness. Every group suffered. But, they also shined and prospered.......... THE ITALIANS:..... The largest arrival of immigrants around the Ellis Island years came from Italy. Mostly, southern Italy. They were mostly farmers and unskilled laborers, seeking a brand new start. They were escaping a life of poverty and prejudice in their own country. Some were wanted by the law, some were men coming over who would send for their family later on. But, most arrivals were Italian men and women who desperately wanted a new start in life. To go from the poverty of their home country to the poverty of a new country did not deter them. Of all of the ethnic groups that came to America, the Italians were the most dedicated to changing their lives, and, more importantly, the lives of their children. The biggest problems facing these people were that they were unskilled, which made it difficult to market themselves in the workplace. Therefore, they took the most menial jobs offered. Men dug ditches, paving roads, and building projects. Some of those projects later developed into permanent landmarks. The Brooklyn Bridge, Grand Central Terminal, among them in New York. And, the next time you ride a subway, think that the Italians built them. But, most Italians stayed working in their neighborhoods, the famous Mulberry Street. There were street vendors hawking the latest products, grocers selling you tasty food from the Old Country, barbers to make you look fashionable. Small businesses flourished and enriched the local economy. Women even got into the action, for Italian women traditionally ran the household but were not afraid to get out and make an honest dollar. They worked in the garment districts. They were mid-wife's. They taught school. All of these achievements while running a successful home. And, this was no small feat. Because the Italians lived in squalor on Mulberry Street. They were living in the notorious district known as The Bend area. This area, a huge ghetto, forced many people in very small tenements to live like animals. While hard working and industrious with their work habits, the Italians were still at the mercy of poverty. Diseases and death were the norm. A good third of the children born during these years did not survive. Famine was the main reason, poor medical care a close second. And, rat bites. Children often fought off the rats as they slept. Naturally, horrible living conditions bring out the exploiters of human suffering. Around this time came what became known as the ''Black Hand''. This was the early version of the local Mafia. These scum would bleed their people, literally, out of whatever honest wages that were earned. Faced with the choice of staying honest and hard working but still poor, or, going along with the ''Black Hand'', many Italian men chose the latter. Gangs developed, along with a crime wave. You could not go to the police because of the centuries practiced ''omerta'', or code of silence. One did not rat, even if rats were crawling on your children. Italians on Mulberry Street also embraced their long history of religion, the Catholic Church. Denied by prejudice the right to pray in the American churches, the Italians built their own houses of worship. They also built clubs for their love of culture--- particularly, opera and fine works of art. Many street festivals celebrating life and food [food is next to God and family for Italians] rang out into the streets. People sat on steps in front of their tenements, drinking wine, breaking bread, and laughing and arguing to great success. Singing,, dancing, and dreams of a better life filled these pastimes. Through hard work and ambition, the Italians promised themselves that their children would have a better life in America. They would grow up to be doctors and lawyers and big businessmen and politicians and athletes. They impressed upon the children the importance of education and responsibility. The world of the Italian adult of today was planned on the Italian children for tomorrow. And, it was a roaring success, as children left The Bend and went on with their lives, creating dynasties of their own. Some left by getting their hands dirty but most left with clean hands, bringing forward the proud Italian heritage........ THE IRISH:......After the Italians, Mulberry Street boasted the Irish as the second most populated ethnic group. Irish immigrants had the same rough start as all nationalities that come to this country. They were poor. Dirt poor. Almost immediately upon arrival on American soil, way back in time with their British counterparts, the Irish had prejudice thrown against them by the natives. Other than blacks, no other group was so maligned with hate then the Irish. Partly, because of their strong Catholic heritage. The Irish were solidly on the side of the Church. The mass migration came in the middle 1800's with the famous Potato Famine in Ireland. In a nutshell, the Famine was just another name for poverty and starvation, wrapped up in a cute nickname. Upon arrival in the United States, the Irish were entrapped in the horribly violent area of town known as the ''Five Points.'' This area, plain and simple, was the Old West moved East. The street gangs and their crimes defied all logic. Although they were a minority, the gangs polluted the surrounding areas with such gleeful vengeance that honest, hard working Irish people were terrified. Cut throats, burned property, killings in cold blood became a way of life. Everywhere there seemed to be dirt and filth. They also were the victims of overcrowding in tenements, and, like the Italians, saw a tremendous amount of infant deaths. The poor lived in basements lacking natural light and ventilation. Diseases ran the spectrum from cholera to tuberculosis to pneumonia to mental illness. Also, with this crushing way of life came alcohol abuse, in very large numbers. The Irish workers were mostly unskilled, as most foreigners are. And, being so, made them fodder for greedy exploiters who made the work for them. The wages, what there were of them, were very low. But, they had the famous ''Irish Spirit'', the ability to plow through any obstacles that life threw at them. They sent their kids to schools, for like their rival Italian neighbors, they also wanted better for their children. They taught tolerance against prejudice, to ignore the signs of ''No Irish Need Apply'', that was so prevalent in homes and businesses. The men became factory workers, worked on roads, built buildings, blacksmiths, stonemasons, did the shit work that no one else would do. The women became maids in prominent homes, where they were treated with contempt and abused---- some were sexually abused because of the power of their employers to get away with a crime. They kept their plucky spirit and impishness for life alive with music, dancing, tall tales of the homeland of Ireland, and watching out for each other. Eventually, through hard work and pluckiness of an internal spirit, they would overcome their lots in life and the children would grow up to be policemen, politicians, movers and shakers in the business world, teachers, etc. But, they never lost who they were and where they came from. The Irish of today are the salt of the Earth. And, that salt came from those brave who came before them. If there is some other saying to go with the Irish----- and they lead the world in sayings!--- it is ''You Will Never Break Us, Whatever You May Give Us!''........ The Germans that arrived here from the Fatherland possessed a hardiness that eclipsed other cultures. They were people of the land, the heartiest of hearty souls. Germans have been rightfully celebrated for their firm dedication of using their enormous persuasive charms to do an honest days pay. Like most immigrants, they were dirt poor, the slaves of the entitled rich aristocracy that governed them. They specialized in farming, the early morning heroes who fed a nation. German people are of strong backbone and character. And, physical specimens, for, who could plow the land, milk the cows, and still contribute to the burgeoning industrial revolution better than they? Germans led by example, a trait running as deep in their bloods as their love for family. They knew poverty here, for poverty does not discriminate. They knew religious persecution. Most German immigrants settled in already established German communities. But, there were skirmishes among the new and the old German people. The ''New'' German were outspoken, impatient in their turn in line to get ahead. They often clashed with the ''Old'' German people, the ones who lived quiet lives and did not make waves. Internal fighting erupted among the groups, with the young triumphing over their elders. Germans were among the first ethnic groups to publicly support the abolishment of slavery and proudly fought on the Union side in the Civil War. In fact, 1/4 of the Union fighting troops were of German heritage. After the war ended, German immigration far exceeded any other ethnic group in coming to America. And, as the years went on, Germans helped grow an America that appreciated their blood, sweat, and tears. That is, until the World Wars showed its ugly face in the 20th Century. These tragedies in human folly tested the mighty reserve of the German people, with prejudice inflicted on daily life on a regular basis. Some Germans would have to change their last names because of the abuse from others. But, even though they had evil incarnate with Hitler, the German people never lost whom they really were and the metal that they were cut from. German culture can viewed in everyday life, their riches enlivening daily pleasures. They boast the big companies, be they ''Bayer'', ''Heinz'', ''Chrysler'', ''Budweiser''. The next time you devour a hot dog or a pretzel, think German............

They Come Into America Part 2

Ah, the Greeks!!! Is there any other ethnic group who instantly scream a good time?? They drink their drinks, dance their dances, and kiss all those around them. Like the Italians, Greeks are all emotional intensity, be it a fierce fight against a sworn enemy or fierce loving for those they hold so very dear. When Greeks first came to the shores of America, they accounted for a very small percentage of total immigrants. But, they banded together, as was their will, the huddled masses against the cold new world. When they first came here, they were escaping the tyrannical debt of their homeland. The Ottoman Empire left Greece with a huge red ink hole. This made a lack of internal industrialization, therebye, sending many of their people fleeing to the American colonies. There was also the encouragement of the Greek government to send their young men here with the promise of a promising future of riches. Large-scale Greek immigration happened in the late 1880's. In keeping with the proud tradition of the Greek heritage, these men often worked to secure dowries for their women back home. They found jobs in various industries, like textile mills and copper and coal mines. In California, they worked the railroads, throwing down the steel spikes for their future earnings. But, like most immigrants who can barely speak the language and understand the American laws, these men were victimized by the bosses and the corrupt government. After a while of being shafted by local crooks, the Greeks began opening businesses of their own, with shoeshine parlors, candy shops, grocery stores, and, the boon of the Greek community, restaurants. Greek restaurants touched down around the country, as a hungry population sought out the Greek way to eat. While counterman would serve, the cooks in the back would get grease marks all up and down their arms, the medal of hard labor. But, they never complained because the Greek heritage is not to complain but to dig deeper and get your just rewards. These early Greek restaurant owners were helped enormously by local cities passing ordinances banning food sold on the streets. So, the food would move indoors, where lunchtime business became their bread and butter industry. It is not far-fetched to say that the Greeks showed the country how to properly enjoy a restaurant. And, after a hard week was done [they worked seven days a week so there was little down time] the Greek families would go pray to their houses of worship. Always deeply religious, the Greeks built their Trinity houses in order to talk to God. And, the Greek Gods must have approved of them because the Greeks only grew bigger, assimilating into the American way of life better than any other ethnic group that came here. Opa!!!!.......... Jewish Americans fought the battles in life ever since time began, it seems. Rampant Anti-Semitism around the world has driven them from continent to continent, in the endless pursuit to be free of prejudice. Coming to America a couple of hundred years ago was the prime example. Persecution from foreign countries was enough to have many Jews try the new land of the free with the hope that all of the hatred against their ''people'' would stop. And, in some ways it did. Tolerance found them in America. But, also, blind hatred was a shadow that descended on them in this country, as it did from whence they came. Sensing this, the Jews did what they had done for centuries: they fought the oppression as One. Us against Them. And, in fighting this battle, Jews cemented a feeling of pride and dignity that must be admired. In  coming to America, Jews have created networks of benevolent societies, settlement houses, educational facilities, and charitable organizations that aided new Jewish immigrants. This creation of agencies became models for social work that American society emulated, including the suffrage movement of modern women. Jews blossomed in the work force in the early part of the 20th Century, particularly, the garment industry and the law. The labor union was greatly enhanced by the Jewish community leaders that came up through the ranks and took over the union and its negotiations with management. Jews not only came through the Ellis Island experience but also through Galveston, Texas. Branching out from the Deep South to the High North, Jewish businessmen began a stronghold in capitalism in all of the major cities. But, the fine Jewish heritage does not confine the making of money purely from the boardroom. No, Jews, like all cultures, love the taste of a good meal and sharing the food with strangers. It started on the street, as street vendors fostered the pushcart trade. Also, kosher butcher shops, bakeries, and fine restaurants bear their fingerprints of their success with the human palette. They also had grander plans that ran hat-and-hand with their always astounding creative juices. The entertainment industry, from music to, most notably, Hollywood, were built on the Jewish spirit and hutzpah. The pioneers in the movie business, the moguls like Zanuck and Zukor, were Jewish men who proudly wore the Jewish mantle as they gave us movies that we all adore. Since movies have always shaped the public taste and fashion, then it must be noted that Jewish influence on society cannot be underestimated. They still face prejudice, but, they remain as One, the people who march forward, head held high, honor intact.......... ''Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breath free....'' So says the words on the Statue Of Liberty [a gift from the French, another proud immigrant group who came to America and helped win the Revolutionary War] urging people from far-away lands to come to America. We will take you all, the saying says. We will wipe away your past and all of its hardships. We will help you achieve your dream of dreams in this new land. Yes, it will be tough and you may falter. But, the rewards of America are glorious. It is the hand of God guiding you as no other country in the history of the world has. Millions of people, including, my forefathers and mothers came here for this reason. Yours did also. In today's world, this feeling seems to have been lost. Why? Well, there are many reasons, the prime one is the conscious effort by many internal and external extremists to degrade the greatness and possibilities in this country. They put America down as the Great Satan intent on punishing its people. The shift of the mood of the people in this world is most disheartening and quite disturbing. America, for all of its flaws, is still the country people from other lands dream about in their hearts. In the time of our ancestors coming here, they were looking for a new life that was for the better........ There is a great moment near the beginning of ''The Godfather Part 2'' Immigrants are coming over from Europe. They have crossed over in a rickety ship, full of danger and disease. The trip across the Atlantic was quite deadly, with many perishing along the way. The scene in the movie expresses this fear on the faces of the new arrivals. But, along with the fear comes a proud determination to survive in this strange land. They have HOPE. They will make themselves and their new adopted country a success with their presence......... At no place in this scene--- or from the real-life similar moments from our ancestors------ is there a plan to bomb buildings and create death........

The Fixer

In this world, we, sadly, seem to forget that a person is innocent until proven guilty in a court of law. That is one of the reasons why the trial system is such a joke. People, who only get their knowledge about current events from sound bites, are easily swayed one way or the other when they are picked to be jurors for a trial. That is one of the reasons why I have always said that there should be a job description of ''professional jurors'', a regular job sitting on a jury. These people who do this job would consist of retired lawyers and police officers, law clerks, or, anyone who knows the ins and out of the legal system and all of its dirty tricks. Only then, with a professional jury, would you get, mostly, appropriate and satisfactory conclusions for a crime. But, for the most part, until we have a system like this, jurors are the easy conned people, the people who see things only in black and white. And, as we know, the world is very much gray. Especially, when a crime has been committed....... I write these words because of the current problems surrounding the Chicago BlackHawks player, Patrick Kane. Kane, one of hockey's finest players, is being investigated for a possible rape in Hartford, Buffalo. The alleged incident may have taken place at his home after he met a woman at a local bar and invited her to his house. After that, we don't know anything further yet, except, that the woman went to the hospital the next day and claimed she had been raped by Kane. At the hospital, she took a test from the rape kit that all hospitals have, and later informed the police........ That is where the story is right now as I write these words. No charges have been filed. But, it is a full-blown media event because it involves a highly popular player locally. Patrick Kane has had a large following in this town, particularly among the female population. The news about a possible rape has shocked many of his die-hard fans........ But, for many other Hawks fans, like myself, it is not that shocking. Patrick Kane has had a rough reputation off the ice for several years. There was the incident in 2009 where he and his cousin beat up a cab driver in Hartford. The driver, battered and bruised, went to the police and Kane and his cousin were charged with assault. Later, a plea bargain was made and some money handed out and Kane got probation after being found guilty. Another incident with him involved a frat party in Madison, Wisconsin, where, according to witnesses, Kane was physically thrown out of a party for inappropriate behavior directed at some of the females at the party. A fight allegedly happened and Kane was seen with his hands around a female, mostly likely, trying to harm her. Police were called and in the melee, the police later reported that Kane went after some of the officers and had to be subdued by the cops. Also, some anti-Semitic comments were uttered by him. The charges were later dropped against him. Some speculate that money was handed out and pressure applied. There are other rumored incidents around town that usually happen in bars. Rumors of fights and rough behavior directed at women have followed Patrick Kane throughout the years. It is no coincidence that all seemed to be tied into his abuse of alcohol....... Now, the question is: Is Patrick Kane an innocent who happens to stumble into bad luck, or, is he, in fact, doing these things and they are covered up by powerful people? The latter scenario seems to be the case. The media gingerly has walked on egg shells around his exploits because he is a popular player in town and they don't want to rock the boat. The Hawks are winning and they are a good story. No one wants to piss on a good story, you would have the wolves at your door howling for your blood. So, the media plays a part in shielding Patrick Kane and his behavior. Also, the public as unwitting accomplices. Patrick Kane is a good-looking guy. Women flock to him. And, women [sorry if this sound sexist] will overlook and ignore real behavior because of the attractive public figure. Women fans see the cute face and shy demeanor and believe that they know him. He is a ''nice guy'', so they want to believe. It is the image that is nice and that image gives off the impression of getting close to him and really knowing the true Patrick Kane. This is, by no means, purely a female issue. Male fans are just as guilty at judging Kane incorrectly. The reason is that Patrick Kane and his fellow Hawks are living the frustrated male athlete dream. The males buy the shirts of their favorite athletes and there is an unconscious feeling among many fans that they are out there scoring the goals [or, touchdowns in football, or, home runs in baseball] and enjoying the glory of being a hero. That is why we idolize the famous, be it an athlete or a rock star or a movie star. Our dreams are fostered on their real-life achievements. So, the fans must be judged in the coverup of the behavior of Patrick Kane......... But, it comes back to why this is so shocking to so many people? How come this behavior hasn't been front page news and just been backstage gossip?........ There is an answer. It goes back in time to a figure known as a ''Fixer''. This person solves problems. This person usually is a retired cop or private investigator. His or her job is to ''fix problems'' that develop for their clients. Every Hollywood studio has these people, every politician employs their services. And, every professional sports team has them, too----including, the BlackHawks. The ''Fixer's'' job is simple: they put out the fires that develop with an organization's ''talent''. Be it domestic abuse, charges of public indecency, traffic fatalities, or, even murder, there is a cardinal rule that every team tells its players. And, that rule is that if you get into serious trouble, you don't call the police first. You don't call your parents or your wife or your best friend or, even, anyone in the organization. You call the ''Fixer''. And, the job of the ''Fixer'' is to take charge and make things go away. Sometimes, by making things go away, a little muscle is needed. Sometimes, a person is menaced into changing a story. Sometimes, a little friendly persuasion is administered. Sometimes, old friends in the police department and the D.A.'s office are called upon. But, mostly, money is what greases the ''true story'' from the frying pan of scandal. With money, as we know, stories, by some miracle, change and the misunderstanding of the incident is easily solved and forgiven. That is what the ''Fixer'' does best. THEY HANDLE IT......... It seems that the Chicago BlackHawks organization has called on the services of their ''Fixer'' many times in the years of Patrick Kane. The stories about him are local legend. To his credit, Kane has addressed his bad behavior publicly and asked for forgiveness because he has ''grown up''. Perhaps, in his mind---- and in the minds of his most ardent fans and apologists---- he has. But, the stories continue and the evidence is mounting. We know the tales of Madison, Wisconsin and Hartford, Buffalo, but what incidents about him do we not know? What are the exploits that have been covered up by the organization and their ''Fixer?'' Are they much worse than the stories we know?.......... I would like to state again that the current story about Patrick Kane is just a story, for right now. It is all ''alleged''. It is important that this word be used, not only by me but also by the media and the public. For legal reasons, yes, but, he also deserves a pass so far because it is just an investigation with no charges being filed----yet........ This may change. This could get ugly, and, if the story is true and he did rape a woman, not only should he be brought to justice but the victim should be remembered and sympathy should be extended to her. Who knows if it will, though. The legal prosecution of rape is an ugly road. As we know, the victim is often dragged through the ringer. I know women who have had this happen to them and the law is very unforgiving towards them. The women's history is torn apart by the defense. And, in an example of legal cruelty and injustice, the VICTIM is made to testify but the ACCUSED is NOT MADE TO. In over half the reported rapes that occur, the victim gives up, not because they do not want the scumbag to go free but because of the immense legal problems with the law that force the victim to give up. It is like they are raped twice: once physically, and, once by our criminal justice system. Some settle out of court to just make it go away as they try to go on with their lives. Some misguided people see the victim really being a golddigger wanting money from the accused. Sometimes, there are golddiggers out there doing this. But, mostly, it is a shattered woman trying to get some closure. Usually, the hand of a ''Fixer'' is beyond the payment..........