The Submarine Races

Johnny Applegate grew up in the sleepy little river town of Louisville, Kentucky, the gateway to the south.  Louisville is primarily known for Churchill Downs and Bourbon, but it had its fair share of pretty girls too.

When he was eighteen-year-old, Johnny bought his first car. He ventured downtown to a dealership by the name of Broadway Motors. His salesman was a guy name of Grundy Hayes. Grundy was a flashy dresser. He wore a green sharkskin suit and sported brown pork pie straw. He always wore a wide smile to greet the customers that lit up his face.

The car Johnny picked out was a 1959 two tone Chevy Bel Air, white over green. It had a manual transmission with a three-speed shift lever on the column. The car had huge tail fins that flattened over like the fin of a great white whale. Johnny paid $800 dollars cash for the car. He had been saving up the money for months. Grundy was only too happy to accommodate and they struck a deal and Johnny drove the car home that day.

Now the car was fine, the only thing it lacked was a radio. So, one day when he had saved up a little more money, Johnny went down to the local junk shop and bought a radio for the car. He had to go out on the lot and find another wrecked Chevy like his so he could harvest the radio and put it in his car. He was in luck and found the one he was looking for. It took him about an hour to uninstall the radio from the wrecked Chevy. When he got it out, he took it up to the front office and made his purchase then went home to install the radio in his own car. While he was at it, he installed two speakers in the rear of the car and surrounded the speakers with a colorful bright orange cloth. Now he was cooking!

Johnny was very happy with the car. He would wash it and polish it in his drive way every Saturday morning. On Saturday night he would pick up his girlfriend, Lynn and some of their other friends and drive out to Cox’s park down on the river. There they had a little party. It was sort of a precursor to the tailgate parties you see today.

Cox’s park was located down along the banks of the Ohio River. In the summertime the grass was of a vivid blue green color and on this particular hot summer night they could smell the fragrance of the freshly mown lawn. It delighted the senses. Johnny parked the car in the spacious parking lot under the spreading leaves a large chestnut tree. From there you could watch the river roll by and the sun go down as the day turned to twilight. Johnny popped the trunk of the car and played the radio real loud. The sound came booming from the rear mounted speakers. Johnny and his friends drank beer and danced in the parking lot. They whooped and hollered and howled at the moon while they were listening to the tunes broadcast from WAKY, a local AM radio station. Bill Bailey, who billed himself the King Kong of the Kilocycles, was the DJ. He played such tunes as Born to be Wild, Dance to the Music, and Those Were the Days. Later, after it got dark, they climbed back into the car and watched the submarine races.

Police Reform

From the Desk of the Editor

There are a lot of ideas out there regarding police reform. I am no policy expert nor do I hold myself out to be one. But you don’t need to be an expert to know that the way we are being policed now doesn’t work and it is in desperate need of reform. Here are a few ideas that I have researched and a few ideas of my own. First and foremost, I think the whole idea of policing needs to be reimagined and reframed. We don’t need to send a man with a gun for every single social infraction. We need to limit contact with the police except for the most serious and dangerous of crimes. Most things the police handle now can be handled by a social worker. Speeders on the freeway can be handled by technology. Every time a cop pulls someone over for a broken tail light a life-threatening situation is engendered. This is completely needless. So, less contact with the public.

My friend Jenny Bean made the following contribution on a FB thread in a discussion of these matters: Instead of police responding to instances of intoxication/substance abuse or mental health crises where a weapon is not being wielded, we could have counselors and medical personnel trained in de-escalation techniques as well as the proper resources to offer on-going help after the fact. Another point to consider, nurses subdue unruly patients on a regular basis, and they do it without killing anyone.

In Eugene, Oregon, an organization called CAHOOTS was started in 1989. Twenty years later, they handle almost 20% of the area’s public safety calls, including those for mental health crises and public intoxication. They also respond to de-escalate personal disputes.

Some have called for defunding the police. What does this mean? It means different things to different people. It is pretty much just a slogan. But basically, what it means is we want to demilitarize the police and divert money to much needed social programs. It could mean the reduction of officers. As previously stated, a lot of the work they do could be handled by social workers.

Some police departments are so bad they may need to be dismantled and started over from scratch. The Minneapolis City Council has just voted to dismantle their Police Department and reconstitute it. They will spend the next year talking about what that will look like. Camden, New Jersey, a city I am most familiar with, shut down its police department and started over again seven years ago. Before the shutdown it was considered one of the most dangerous cities in America. After it was rebuilt crime rate dropped 50% and complaints against the police dropped 95%.

The mindset of police officers must be changed from a Warrior mindset to a Guardian mindset. Focus should be on a community-based serve and protect model. The cops have to stop looking at civilians as enemies.

Hiring practices. Cops should be licensed and have a four-year degree in criminal justice. They should not be hired if they have previous disciplinary action on their records for brutality against citizens. Psychological profiles should be performed to make each candidate is suitable for the type of work required of a police officer. Candidates should be screened for innate bias against people of color. There should be standardized, intensive, and expanded training. Choke holds must be banned. There should be civilians on review boards.

Cops must be held accountable for wrong doing and misconduct. End qualified immunity. As it stands now it is practically impossible to prosecute and convict cops of wrong doing because of qualified immunity, police unions, collective bargaining agreements, and legal immunity. This must change.

There should be stronger protection under the 4th amendment: “The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no Warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by Oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized.” Citizens should be secure in their homes, their property and in their cars.

Other ideas

  • Duty of police officers to intervene and to report
  • Body cams for all police officers
  • National Registry for police misconduct
  • Screen for innate bias against people of color.
  • End “no knock warrants”

Kamal Harris just introduced a Justice in Policing Act which covers the following points

  • Set a national standard for use of force
  • Expand independent investigation into police misconduct.
  • Establish a national police misconduct registry
  • Require states to report use of force incidents
  • Ban “no-knock” warrants in drug cases.

Police must be held accountable for use of excessive force, brutality, and extra judicial killings.

We don’t want a militarized police force, nor do we want to live in a police state.

Il Bidone (1955)

Movie Blurb

Il Bidone (The Swindle) Directed by Fredrico Fellini, starring Broderick Crawford, Richard Basehart, Giuletta Masina. This is a movie about a group of con men swindling poor people out of their money which they in turn spend on flashy cars, booze, and prostitutes. You know, the usual. Shot in the neo-realism style in post war Italy it is indicative of Fellini’s early work. It is book-ended by two other films of a similar vein: La Strada (1954) and Nights of Cabria (1957). These films comprise what has become known as the “Trilogy of Loneliness.” I always get a kick out of seeing American actors in some of these early European films. Broderick Crawford gives the performance of his career in Il Bidone. Not as good as the other two, but worth a look!

Broderick Crawford in Il Bidone
Richard Basehart and Broderick Crawford in Il Bidone
Giulietta Masina in Il Bidone

On the Criterion Channel and available on Amazon.

Posse Comitatus

Trump wants to mobilize active duty U.S. military to attack peaceful protestors. This action would be unconstitutional, unlawful, and unconscionable. It is the action of a dictator and tyrant and a further degradation of our democracy. What Trump really wants is a race war.

What makes this illegal is the Posse Comitatus Act which states: Whoever, except in cases and under circumstances expressly authorized by the Constitution or Act of Congress, willfully uses any part of the Army or the Air Force as a posse comitatus or otherwise to execute the laws shall be fined under this title or imprisoned not more than two years, or both. The exception to this law is the Insurrection Act. But to use this there has to be an insurrection, and what is happening is clearly not an insurrection.

The Attorney General for New York, Letitia James, has stated, “We will not allow Donald Trump to dominate New York.”

Defense Secretary Mark Esper publicly disagreed with President Trump’s threatened use of the 1807 Insurrection Act. Speaking to reports at a recent Pentagon briefing Esper said, “The option to use active duty forces in a law enforcement role should only be used as a matter of last resort, and only in the most urgent and dire of situations. We are not in one of those situations now. I do not support invoking the Insurrection Act.”

In my view, any soldier asked to deploy to an American city to fight protestors and enforce the law has a duty to disobey this unlawful order.

LOVE KILLS

Instruments of death that fit snugly into the palm of your hand were gleaming dully in their showcases lovingly caressed by blue velvet. Oiled wooden handles jutted from solid blue-black bodies. There was a faint odor of oil and metal lingering on the air-conditioned atmosphere of the room. The soft sound of creaking leather reverberated through the reverential quiet as the clerk tenderly, ever so gently, eased a delicately balanced, but heavily weighted .357 magnum pistol out of its holster.  Firmly, but gently, he gripped the butt of the gun in his right hand. He placed the web of his thumb over the hammer of the awesome black revolver and slowly began to exert pressure on it. The man’s hands trembled slightly and he closed his eyes. Small beads of perspiration began popping over his upper lip. A little metal clicking noise emerged from the gun as the hammer went through it first cocking phase. A slight smile appeared on the lips of the clerk as he continued to pull back on the heavy hammer and another click emerged – the gun was half-cocked – the clerk began breathing heavily now and rapidly and his face grew flush. He slid his thumb to the edge of the hammer and applied the tip of it to the ridges cut deeply into the top edge. He pushed down hard and fully cocked the revolver. A tiny teardrop appeared in the corner of the clerk’s eye. The gap between the ridged head of the steel hammer and the body of the gun was a chasm. It looked like the jaws of a primordial reptile. It was powerful and it was frightening – the stored-up energy of the hammer begged to be released. He pulled the trigger. Snap! I jumped.  The hair on the back of my neck prickled and a shiver ran down my left arm. The clerk placed the gun back into its holster. He lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply and blew clouds of tobacco smoke across the room. He had a distant look in his eyes. I turned on my boot heels and walked out of the store into the bright afternoon sunlight.

House of Games (1987)

Movie Blurb

House of Games (1987)

Written and directed by David Mamet, starring Lindsay Crouse and Joe Mantegna. This movie was pretty much universally praised when it came out in 1987. It is currently rated 7.3 on IMBD. Roger Ebert, no less, rated it four stars out of four and gave it a glowing review. I’m going to give it a six out of ten.

While I liked the film, and had a favorable impression of it when I first saw it in 1987, I don’t feel like it stands the test of time. It is well crafted, but so is a finely made piece of furniture. I can see the seams and joints and that seems to take away from my overall impression. I want to get lost in the action of the picture and not see the woof and worf.

House of Games is about a den of con artists. And while it is fascinating to see the cons work their magic, I couldn’t help but notice seeing them coming. And it is hard to imagine the central character being so gullible, after having participating in a con herself, not seeing the con being played on her. But I guess that is the beauty of the con, it’s human nature to want to believe it.

Lindsay Crouse and Joe Mantegna in House of Games

I loved how the film looked. Very noirish. Seattle at night with neon lights reflected in puddles of water and steam rising from man hole covers. Nice atmosphere!

Lots of Mamet’s patented rapid-fire dialogue, which can sound a little stilted and stagy at times.  If only Mamet had succeeded in conning me into believing what he was selling. He already conned me out of my money for the price of a ticket.

House of Games is part of the Criterion Collection and is available on Amazon.

The Thorobred Club Redux

I stopped into the strip club out near the race track early on a Friday night. They had just opened so there wasn’t a whole lot of action going on. Strippers sitting in little clumps here and there. I sat down at the bar and ordered a Budweiser. This is de rigueur for me at strip clubs because its an easy drink to order, it’s cheap, and doesn’t call a lot of attention. Usually a good way to change a twenty and get a lot of singles for the strippers. Strippers love singles.

“What’ll it be Bud?”

“I’ll have a Budweiser, please.”

“This Bud’s for you.”

She opened one of the glass paneled doors covering the refrigerated room back of the bar and retrieved a bottle of beer and set it down before me.

“Just a minute,” she said when I tried to pay her.

They were still opening the joint and she and another barmaid were hovering over the cash register counting money and signing in. It was OK with me. I was in no hurry.

I was sitting there on my bar stool swigging my beer and swiveling around on the stool to check the place out. Back behind me there was a large main stage with two stripper poles. Music was playing in the background. Kind of low for a stripper place I thought. There were tables and chairs in the space between me and the stage. The lighting was low and seductive and of course mirrors everywhere. I had turned back around to the bar facing the mirror on the back wall when I noticed a thin young girl with long brown mousy hair wearing a black athletic jacket heading in my direction. She was wearing black heels. Under the jacket was a nice lingerie set of matching black bra and panties. She was distinguished from the other girls because one, she was wearing a jacket, and two because her lingerie was nicer than the rest. The panties were high waisted and the brassier was rather full, more like a bustier, and while she looked good, she really wasn’t that sexy.

“Hi. What’s your name, cowboy?” She asked.

“Philip”, I answered. “What’s yours?”

She lowered her head and got closer and got a silly grin on her face.

“My real name or my stripper name?” She purred into my ear.

“Well, I always like to know a girl’s real name.”

“We’re not supposed to tell what our real name is.” She dropped her head and laughed. “It’s Crystal. My stripper name is Bella.”

“Oh, Bella! That’s a pretty name!” I was wondering if she knew what it really meant.

She smiled. “Thanks! Yours is pretty too.”

I smiled back.

“I don’t usually do this. I only work a couple days a month. Just enough to make a little money to pay the rent. I’m a single mother. I have a six-year-old daughter at home I have to take care of. She’ll be six in August.”

“Oh really? What day?”

“The ninth. August the ninth.”

“Wow! Really? That’s my birthday too!”

Her smile got bigger.

“Really? You’re a Leo?”

“Yep! Just like your daughter. What’s yours?”

“Scorpio.”

“Oh! The most dangerous sign in the universe!”

“Do you study signs?”

“A little bit. You?”

She nodded her assent.

“Are Leos and Scorpios compatible?”

She laughed and allowed that they were. “I’m very passionate.” She said.

Then she went on about how she didn’t’ drink but that she smoked a lot.

“Weed?”

“Yeah. Buy me a drink?”

“I thought you just said you didn’t drink.”

“I don’t. Except when I come here. I couldn’t do this unless I drank.”

“How much are they? I don’t usually buy girls drinks because they jack the prices up and I don’t like that.”

She grimaced. “I really don’t know. Get me a shot of tequila. I’m going over here to talk to my friend to make sure she is alright. I’ll be right back.”

So, I ordered a shot. I figured if the barmaid thought it was for me, she would just charge me regular price.

“Silver or gold?” She asked.

“Silver.”

She poured a shot and set it down in front of me.

“Lemon or lime?”

“Lemon.”

“You want salt with that?”

“No.”

“That’ll be seven dollars.”

In a few minutes Crystal drifted back over to where I was sitting and spotted the shot of Patron sitting on the bar.

“Where’s your shot?”

“I’m drinking beer.”

This seemed to satisfy her. She picked up the shot of tequila and poured it down her gullet and then sucked on the lemon and made a face.

“Oh, that was awful!”

“The lemon?”

“No, the tequila. I told you I didn’t drink.”

The she proceeded to tell me the story of her life. “You know, when I was younger, I was pretty wild and I did a lot of bad things. My boyfriend was killed right in front of me.”

“Bad drug deal?”

“Yeah. We were sitting in the car together somewhere in the west end and they just shot him right then and there.”

“Jesus!”

“Yeah, that was kind of a wakeup call for me. Ever since then I have been trying to get my act together and turn my life around.” 

“How’s that working out for you?”

She lowered her head again and smiled.

“Hey! Don’t go anywhere. I’m going back over there to check on my friend again.”

So, she walked back over to her friend who was sitting at the other end of the bar.

I figured she be back for another drink but it looked like she got caught up in the conversation with her friend and some others who joined them. Thought it might be a good time to blow so I took the air.

Note: I published this story once before, but this is a new and revised version.