Tony Stewart - May 6th Talladega Interview

Tony’s comments immediately after his frustrating finish at Talladega on May 6th have been labeled as funny, sarcastic, bizarre, disrespectful, a mockery and degrading to the sport. Questions have been raised about potential fines by Nascar for violation of Section 12-4-A of the NASCAR rulebook, which covers everything “detrimental to the sport.” If Nascar fined him for this, fans would be all over the sanctioning body raising cain!

Thankfully Nascar announced today they will not be penalizing the People’s Champion for his comments, saying they are not detrimental to the sport.

For those of us who know Tony’s sarcasm, the interview was vintage Stewart and we LOVE it! His sarcasm is part of what we like most about him. And truth be told, his comments were making a point! NASCAR needs to make a few changes before they return to this 2.66-mile track.

Too many cars were having problems with over heating, a point Jeff Gordon also made after the race.  Saying “This temp thing is kind of a joke and their going to have to fix that..When you can’t really even race because the temps in just a regular pack are an issue. They’re going to have to address that”. Kevin Harvick also put in his two cents saying “Nascar got to figure out another way to restrict it besides engine temperature”. 

Something that’s prevalent in pack racing, but not as severe in tandem racing.  For as many fans that don’t like tandem, there are quite a few who do. 

To his point about wrecking cars, many people have complained about over the past few weeks about not enough wrecks in a race. As a person who has been a fan for over 4 decades I would love to tell these people to shut up and sit down! We don’t want good racing, not a demolition derby! Pack racing creates “the big one” that so called new ‘fans’ want. If you need constant destructive action, I suggest you learn to like hockey.

The interview was conducted, outside his hauler with an only a handful of reporters there. ESPN was present with a camera crew. This tongue in cheek interview occurred before the drivers availability at the Media Center interviews. Jeff Gluck was the first to break the story on Twitter and also has the best insight behind the interview: Tony Stewart Gives Bizarre Post-Race Interview After Talladega Race.

A few other reports have taken Tony’s comments way to seriously and others seem to be too high brow to get the point of his sarcasm. This is vintage Tony, using words to release his frustration over having a great car that lead the first quarter of the race, challenged for the lead and then due to issues out of his control went south, fast! If you can’t understand that, then maybe you should be covering some other sport. Here in Nascar, we love our drivers when they have a real personality and speak their minds. (Yes I’m talking to you Dave Newton. You’re the mockery in the media center).

Since this story broke fans have been clamoring for a video to watch, an audio file to listen to. Late this afternoon, ESPN ran the interview on Nascar Now – Thanks to Jeff Gluck for tweeting the link! For those who know Tony’s tone, here’s a transcript of the questions/answers from the “Bizarre Hauler Interview”:

ON TODAY’S RACE
“We didn’t quite crash half the field which is what we normally look to do here. I was excited about it. I thought it was a pretty good race. I made it further than I thought I would before I got crashed. I call it a successful day.”

3-Time Champ Tony Stewart

A LOT OF TEAMS WERE HAVING TROUBLE WITH FUEL INCLUDING YOURS. WHAT WAS GOING ON WITH THAT?
“I wasn’t sure to be honest. I’m not quite sure what the fuel issue was. The racing was awesome. It’s fun to be able to race and have to watch the gauges at the same time. It makes us as drivers have to do so much more. Being able to make yourself run on the apron and everything else to try to get clean air, it makes it fun. I’m sorry we couldn’t crash more cars today. We didn’t fill the quota for today for Talladega and NASCAR.”

JEFF GORDON SAID HE THOUGHT THEY SHOULD OPEN UP THE GRILL OPENING FOR WHEN WE COME BACK HERE AND POSSIBLY DAYTONA IN JULY. DO YOU HAVE ANY SENSE THAT NEEDS TO BE DONE?
“I think they need to close it down. Honestly, I think if we haven’t crashed at least 50 percent of the field by the end of the race, we need to extend the race until we at least crash 50 percent of the cars because it’s not fair to these fans for them to not see any more wrecks than that and more torn up cars. We still had over half the cars running at the end and it shouldn’t be that way.”

THE WRECKS WEREN’T CAUSED BY THE OVER HEATING?
“No, not at all. I don’t think any of the wrecks were an overheating issue. That is why I say I think we ought to just tape them off solid and run them until they blow up anyway. I think it would make it a lot more exciting for the fans.”

WOULD THIS BE BETTER IF IT WERE A SHORTER RACE?
“I don’t think it really matters. I think if you made it 20 laps we would all still crash with five to go or eight to go. If we did that we would be able to fill the time that the fans deserve. I mean they deserve to see us run 500 miles. Like I said if we don’t crash half of the field by the end of the race they really need to extend it because that is what the fans want they want to see that excitement. I feel bad that as drivers we couldn’t do a better job of crashing enough cars for them today.”

I CAN’T FIGURE OUT IF YOU ARE HAPPY OR YOU ARE UPSET WITH YOUR TONE…
“I’m upset that we didn’t crash more cars. I feel like that is what we are here for. I feel bad if I don’t spend at least a 150,000 dollars in torn up race cars going back to the shop. We definitely have to do a better job with that.”

WHY DO YOU HAVE THAT IMPRESSION THAT IS WHAT THE FANS ARE LOOKING FOR?
“Well, I don’t know that is what they are looking for, but I feel like that is the show we deserve to give them. That is what has made Talladega, Talladega.”

DID YOU HAVE FUN OUT THERE?
“Absolutely. I had a blast. It would have been a lot more fun if I could have gotten caught up in one more wreck. If I could have done that it would have been perfect.”

DID YOU HAVE THE ISSUE OF RUNNING OUT OF FUEL AT ANY POINT?
“I didn’t wreck because I ran out of fuel, but I ran out of fuel twice.”

THE RADIO GUYS WERE SAYING THAT MAYBE (GUYS RUNNING OUT OF FUEL) HAD SOMETHING TO DO WITH THE EFI (ELECTRONIC FUEL SYSTEM) HAVE YOU NOTICED A CHANGE IN YOUR FUEL MILEAGE SINCE YOU WENT TO THAT ENGINE PACKAGE?
“I mean we have only ran two restrictor plate races so it is hard to say. There were definitely guys that were running out of fuel today ahead of where they thought they would.”

IS IT SAFE TO SAY THAT YOU PREFER THE PACK OVER THE TANDEM DRAFTING?
“I think we ought to make it a figure eight. I mean if we could make it a figure eight it would be perfect. It would absolutely be perfect here. It would be better than what we have. That is going to be my vote next week is that we make it a figure eight and/or we can stop at the half way make a break and turn around and go backwards the rest of the way. Then with 10 to go we split the field in half and half go the regular direction and half of them go backwards.”

© 2012 Evil Wordsmith. Evilwordsmith.com. All Rights Reserved.

He bursts into your bedroom. “Oh there’s no cheer today, sir. And Agent Smith’s not here which oddly is the reason I came to talk to you.”

As you sit up and pull on your warmups, you recall groggily that Agent Smith and his team has been sent ahead to “secure” your hotel in Grindo Zero, codeword for Cartagena. Once again you’ve been tasked to attend a “summit” meeting, which is an apt description of all of these. They all are a lot like mountain climbing. It’s real hard, you have to be insane to do it even if you use all the safety equipment and it accomplishes absolutely nothing.

“About that, how’s the speech coming?”

“Oh,” he says all too chipperly, “it’s coming along nicely, I’ll have the first draft in a couple days.”

You jam the button for Alfred, codename for your excellent butler, a few times very hard because that was NOT what you wanted to hear. “Listen Spin, by speech I mean something like twenty seconds… NOT minutes. I realize you love these things, but to me it’s a lot like knee surgery with a .45.”

He looks momentarily dejected, “Ok… I’ll see if I can cut some of it.”

“Cut most of it.”

Alfred arrives with early breakfast. He places the serving tray in front of you, “Here you are, sir, scrambled eggs, livermush and cheese on toast, and of course, your morning pills and something to wash them down.” By which, he means, a double Jack neat. He really is an excellent butler.

“So what’s up with Agent Smith?”

Spin Cycle has a look of shell shock and stares at the tray, “Sir, I’m not sure I’d eat that even for dinner. And I’m not sure it’s a good idea to take those pills with liquor. Or, for that matter, drink this early in the morning.”

“Good, cause I’m pretty sure it’d kill you. What’s going on at Grindo Zero?” Eating blood pressure pills at 4:30 in the morning makes you impatient.

“Well, sir…” He pauses nervously, “There’s been an… incident.”

You smile recalling good times at a bar in Virginia. “So you woke me up to rub it in that I missed the fun?”

“Well… it doesn’t look like as much fun this time. Er… ok yeah I’m sure there was a lot of fun, but it’s gotten a little too public. The news is all over it right now.”

“Hmm… ok, so what happened?”

“Well there was a disagreement between one of the agents and, um, a woman.”

You wonder what happened to Spin in his early life that prevents him from saying “hooker.” “And?…”

“Well the police were called…”

“Oh man, that’s not a small police force there. How bad was the shoot out?”

“Oh they didn’t go to the hotel. I think they might have heard about the bar in Virginia. Anyway though, it’s worse, they went to the press instead.”

“Damn…” you pause to think, “Well, lets get all the usual suspects into the Jungle Room (codeword for the Oval Office, thanks yet again, President Bill) and Smith and his MIB squad. We need to do some… some… what did the other presidents call it?”

“Damage control, sir?”

“Yeah! Damage control! Hmm… that actually makes it sound fun.”

A few hours later, you’re in the Jungle Room. Agent Smith and his squad is there with Spin Cycle, and for some reason your new friend, Vampire Bill is there, holding a glass of his new prescription medicine, a pink PJ. Lately he seems to hang around a lot now that he’s so much more mellow.

On the phone, you are chatting with Candy Cane, codename for your favorite political reporter from Certainly Not News. “…so… there’s nothing you can do?… Oh come on sweetie, you can’t still be mad about that, no one won the pool. Bridesmaid is way tougher than we all thought…”

Bridesmaid is, of course, the codeword for Senator McCain and Candy is a bit miffed that she didn’t win the pool on how many of your press conferences it would take to cause him to stroke.

“…Ok… Well, how about this then, wanna be an ‘embedded’ reporter when we head to Grindo Zero?… Hello?…” You hang up the phone, “Hmm… we got cut off.”

You turn to Agent Smith, “Well, so tell me what happened.”

He points to the agent on his right, “Sir, he’s Agent Smith.”

“Ok, we really have to get you guys some name tags.” Turning again to Agent Smith, “So, what happened?”

“Well, sir, Operation What’s that Smell was going without a hitch. We had worked out most of the kinks… well we found all of the kinks and got them all maps to the hotel. So, after work, we felt it was our duty to test the kinks, just to be sure you know. Unfortunately there was a problem between Agent Jones here,” he points to the agent on the far left of the three, “and his assigned target.”

You turn to Agent Jones, “What happened son?”

“Well, sir, at the bar I had pre-negotiated a price with the target. But when we got to the hotel, the target attempted to renegotiate the price. She was asking for ten times the original price. Well I wouldn’t stand for that…”

Suddenly there’s that familiar sound. Only it’s not Scotch this time. Well, it could be, you really don’t know. But a pink spray of PJ had just blasted from Vampire Bill’s nose. After a short fit of coughing, he stammered, “You argued over price?!?” Now he was yelling, “Since when have you guys ever cared about price?!?”

Just as it appeared that Bill was going to attempt strangling the agent, Mr… er… Doctor Frost appeared with Brick House in tow, “We have to get this man another PJ stat” and was abruptly forcing a new pink drink into Bill.

For a moment Bill’s face flushed warm and he slumped down onto the couch, “Thanks, doc. That one kinda burned.”

“I doubled the dosage, since it was an emergency.” Doctor Frost says.

You turn back to Agent Jones, “He does have a point though.  Ok so how much was she asking for?”

“Sir she was asking for eight-hundred.”

Vampire Bill had jumped back to his feet, “Eight… HUNDRED?? WITH ONLY TWO ZEROES?? THAT’S IT??”

Doctor Frost turns to Brick who’s at the liquor cabinet, “Nurse House, another PJ stat, triple dosage this time.”

“Way ahead of you doctor,” she says as she hands him another PJ which goes rapidly down the gullet of Bill. Bill sits down again, much more relaxed now.

While all this is going on, an idea occurs to you. You decide to test a theory. “Spin, does the press have the names of any of the agents?”

“Just Agent Hart, cause of his Facebook page.”

You shake your head as you turn to Agent Hart, “You have a Facebook page?”

He points to the right, “Sir, I’m Agent Jones, he’s Agent Hart.”

“Ok, I think this could work.” You turn to Hart, “So… what about this Facebook page?”

“Well sir…” he falters, “I’ve had it for a while. Might have said some things I shouldn’t have…”

Spin finishes, “Like pictures of you oogling Palin’s butt.”

You shudder, “You’re kidding me right?”

Hart speaks up, “She does have a nice butt sir. I’m just sayin’”

“Yeah, but the voice…”

“I had earbuds in and turned up loud sir. She definitely has Drescher’s Syndrome.” Everybody shudders.

“Ok… I think I have a plan, but first we need a test. You guys know how to play musical chairs right?”

All the Agents look puzzled. Well, no, they don’t look anything, they never do. But you can imagine it. They do sorta nod though, that helps.

“Ok get to it Imagine there’s music and walk around the couch.”

So they go around a few circles and you say, “Stop.” They all plop on the couch. “Ok get up.” They stand up.

You turn to your test subject, Vampire Bill, “Ok Bill, see if you can tell me which one of these guys is Agent Jones.”

Everybody’s eyes turn to Vampire Bill. He snores. A little drool slides down from the corner of his mouth.

“Might have over done it a bit with that last PJ sir.” Doctor Frost says. “Nurse House, have him take two aspirin in the morning and call me tomorrow night.” She does not look amused. She never does.

You turn to Spin, “Ok, then you, which one’s Jones?”

He points to one of the guys, “That one, of course. I’m right, right?”

“I have no freakin’ idea. Which one are you?”

“I’m Agent Smith, sir.” It occurs to you that they could lie to you and you’d never know.

“Perfect! Ok, here’s the plan: We’ll announce that the unnamed agents have quit, will ‘fire’ one just to be sure, that’ll be you, Hart, since everyone knows you…”

“I’m Jones, sir, he’s Hart…”

“…Ok, anyway we’ll ‘fire’ Hart. And we’ll actually just reassign him.”

Spin asks, “Reassign him where?”

“Milf patrol obviously. I got two requirements though, no Facebook page, and please, PLEASE, no Palin voice. I don’t have earbuds.”

E.W.

People always seem surprised that life imitates art. Where the Hell do you think the art came from?

When I’m away on business, the last thing the Prince does in the evening is read a chapter of his reading book. Currently that would be the Hank the Cowdog series by John Erickson. So one night a few weeks ago, it’s reading time and I ask him what chapter we’re reading. He tells me that it’s chapter 5 and I tell him no, it’s got to be chapter 6 because we already read the part at the end of chapter 5.

To this he replies, “Are you sure? I thought I read that when I was sneaking in the closet last night.”

I said, “What?”

“Oh… um… nothing, nevermind.”

E.W.

My son sneaks out of bed to read. Guess that explains the 12th grade reading level.

Many people plan for months for their spring break. Taking exotic vacations, or visiting family or running off to the beach for fun in the sun after the cold winter months. But in this financial recession many families  can’t afford those big plans to get away from it all. For those folks there’s still things to do to enjoy the week and relax a little.

We’ve learned that sometimes the best memories come from the simple things that cost little to no money at all. As long as you’re spending the time with those you love. And doing something you truly enjoy doing.

Evil & Spring 04/2012 - Watching the Trains In Ashland

For us, that’s a little 20 minute trip into town. In particular into Ashland, Virginia. Touted as the “Center of the Universe“, it’s a simple little historic town where one of the countries oldest colleges calls home. That would be Randolf-Macon College.

One of the advantages of living in the middle of no where is that going into town is often a an adventure. And that’s true for us.

Because we’re so far away from civilization we plan our trips, whither we go north to Fredericksburg or south to Ashland.

But on occasion taking a spontaneous trip brings the most fun. And on our last Saturday of Spring Break that’s exactly what we decided to do. We made it a train day!

We took a trip to the local Dairy Queen, grabbed some dinner for a picnic and went into the historic side of town to watch the trains roll through. The boys get all excited when they hear the train horns sound as they approach town. Followed by the ding-ding of the crossing bars slowly moving down to stop traffic. And the final roar of the train engines and rumble of the cars on the track as they pass by.

Historic Ashland Train Depot

Ashland is one of the few places where you can still stand on the platform, or sit by the old depot and feel the trains vibrate through your body.

Often on a Saturday afternoon there’s a gathering of train enthusiasts to visit with. Guys who have or still work for the train companies. Others who are simply big train fans. A smattering of guys who have invested heavily in their passion with video equipment, cameras and train communication radios all gather by Ashland’s little historic train depot.

The shared interest and enthusiasm brings strangers together as if you’re meeting old friends you haven’t seen in ages.

CSX 5265

On average 40-50 passenger and freight trains run through the center of Ashland each day. Benches are situated outside the station about 6-8 feet from the tracks, (they travel through at 35mph and are loud!).  Old folks watch young kids cover their ears from the loud roar. Kids really enjoy walking across the tracks and watching the road signs close off traffic before the train arrives. Moms and Dads help their kids place a coin on the track to be smashed and flattened by the heavy engines and then carefully search for them after the tracks have cleared and it’s safe to walk the rails.

Helpful Hints:

• Bring an activity and snack for the kids while you wait.
• If you have little ones consider watching your first train from afar and/or keeping hands on little ears while the engine roars by.
• If you want to really avoid the noise you can park along the tracks and wait for the trains to roll through from the safety of your car.

Amtrak 7

The track sees various freight trains from CSX and both commuter and passenger trains from Amtrak. Our favorite freight train is one we fondly call the CSX-Tropicanna train which travels north at the beginning of the week and south near the end of the week. You can almost smell the oranges as it passes by.

Each night right before dinner time you can see the Amtrak AutoTrain roll south. We’re going to ride that train one day!    

While you are there stop by Ashland Coffee and Tea or Homemades by Suzanne for a snack, located next to the visitor’s center. If you prefer ice cream, venture back over England Street to The Club Car, which has a big picture window where you can continue to watch for trains. Or check out all the dining options in and round town. And if you’re really looking for a place to take in all the sights and sounds, think about staying over night at the Henry Clay Inn which sits right behind the old train depot. Oh did I mention the depot is now the Ashland Visitors Center?

© 2012 Evil Wordsmith. Evilwordsmith.com. All Rights Reserved.

3-Time Champion Tony Stewart

Update:

In 2010 I wrote an article about the validation of Nascar as a sport and it’s Drivers as athletes. New research and more information has been published since then. So I took the opportunity to update my initial article to include the new data.

Check it out: Is Nascar A Sport? Are Nascar Drivers Athletes?

© 2012 Evil Wordsmith. Evilwordsmith.com. All Rights Reserved.

The White House Welcomes the NASCAR Champion, Tuesday April 17, 2012. The tributes to sports teams are a long-stranding presidential tradition. It’s an opportunity for the President to celebrate excellence and achievement by American sportsmen and women.

Tony Stewart of Stewart-Haas Racing

The 30th President of the United States is credited with starting the practice. In October of 1924, Calvin Coolidge welcomed the Washington Senators after winning the American League championship. “The Washington team won because it deserved to win,” said Pres. Coolidge. And the same could be said about our own 2011 Nascar Champion Tony Stewart and the entire #14 Office Depot/Mobil 1 team!

Say what you will about Pres. Obama, he’s still the sitting President of the United States and it’s an honor for any sports champions to be recognized by the White House.

Every Nascar fan agrees that last year was a unique and special Championship series. The level of intensity expressed by Stewart-Haas Racing and in particular the #14 team and our 3-Time Champion Tony Stewart especially, was a story for the ages. It was spectacular. It was heroic. It was an excellent achievement to raise the bar in the last 10 races of the season. And it deserves the same recognition that any NBA, NFL, NHL and MLB champions have received no matter who is in the Oval Office. It’s about the history of recognition and accomplishment by a country who is grateful to have heroes to cheer for on Sundays.

The disparaging remarks by some who claim to be Nascar fans are an embarrassment to the racing world. This visit by the Nascar elite is not about raising campaign money, it’s not a political rally, it has nothing to do with party affiliation or political positions.

Thankfully not all of us fans are short sighted and demand politics play a part in all avenues of our life. Some of us have the ability to separate the politics from the history making events of the 2011 Chase and the traditional White House  Champion recognition. And we’re thrilled for our drivers, excited for their families and happy that our reigning Champion is being honored for hard work, dedication and expression of excellence that he and the other members of the 2011 Chase field deserve.

So Congratulations to Tony! You and your crew and everyone at Stewart-Haas deserve the recognition for your achievement! …..and if you need someone to go with you, I’m just down the road in Richmond…I clean up well and would be proud to stand in the crowd applauding your achievement.

© 2012 Evil Wordsmith. Evilwordsmith.com. All Rights Reserved.

Spiced Rum Recipes

Last night we went to dinner at one of our favorite places. During dinner we began talking about Sir Evil’s brother and his favored drink. We asked the bartender if they had ever heard of such a drink and did it have a name? She hadn’t heard of it, but thought it was interesting and called a friend who teaches Mixology. Yes he had heard of the drink, but as far as he knew it didn’t have a name. We began thinking up names and we finally came up with one that we think is perfect for a ‘rum’ drink.

Here are two drink recipes for you. Compliments of Sir Evil’s brother. And inspired by Captn Jack Sparrow’s love of rum!

Captn Jack White:

• 2 ozs spiced rum
• 1 cup milk
• Optional: 1/2 tsp vanilla

Captn Jack Black:

• 2 ozs spiced rum
• 1 cup milk
• 1 tbsp chocolate syrup
• Optional: 1/2 tsp vanilla

© 2012 Evil Wordsmith. Evilwordsmith.com. All Rights Reserved.

As the President, you are expected to keep the wheels of industry turning by keeping them greased. And it doesn’t hurt if a little grease rubs off into your wallet either. So today, you’re going to be receiving a couple visitors who are the driving force behind those cogs and sprockets. It seems that they have an urgent problem and believe that you’re the guy to solve it. You do not have to be very bright to be a banker you guess.

Right on time, the intercom chimes and Brick House says, “Sir, your one o’clock is ready, Mr. Blank…”

“Brick?…” She really hates the codewords.

“Thurston Howell the Third and J.R. Ewing are here to see you, sir.”

It amazes you how she can enunciate so well without ever unclenching her teeth. “Please, send them in.”

The door opens and a couple of guys enter. They seem like ordinary rich people, but you know, in fact, that they are the people who actually run the Earth. Yes, kids, there are jobs even worse than being President. You usher them to the couch while Brick House gets them a couple of drinks.

After Brick exits, you ask, “So guys, what can an ordinary Cheeseball do for you?”

J.R. opens up, “Well, sir…”

“Please just call me Cheesy, we’re all friends here.”

J.R. chuckles, “Well sure, Cheesy, anyway you know about the ‘Occupy Wall Street’ thing?”

“Yeah.”

“Well we really would like them to stop already.”

“I can’t see how they’re even bothering you guys. Just ignore them, they’ll get bored and go away eventually”

“There is a tent in my parking space,” J.R. says.

“Just take a limo. You didn’t forget you’re stinking rich did you?”

“You don’t understand, my car is is IN the tent. They’re sleeping on it.”

“Okay, just get another car.”

“It’s a Maserati.”

“Hmm… that is serious. What do you want me to do?”

Thurston speaks up, “Can’t you just shoot them?”

“Probably, but it’s not a good idea. You wouldn’t believe how much rigmarole there was just because I waved a two by four near Wolf Blitzer. I can only imagine the mountain of paperwork there’d be for shooting those guys. Besides, do you really want blood and bullet holes on your Maserati?”

“Can’t they just shoot carefully?”

“The Guidos?” which is the code name for the Department of Homeland Security, “No, they don’t shoot ‘carefully’, they shoot ‘massively’. In fact they’re liable to shoot you guys in the process.”

J.R. looks suddenly nervous, “I hate getting shot.”

Thurston sits up straight, “Good grief man! They sound dangerous.”

“You have no idea, they only get down to ‘just dangerous’ at lunch time.”

J.R. takes his stetson off, “There has to be some way to get rid of them.”

You take a sip of your Jack Daniels and lean back in the chair to think. After a while you realize you have nothing. And then… the epiphany! You know someone who has something.

“Well boys, I don’t know how to solve this one. But I will put my best man on it right away. I’m sure he’ll come up with a solution.”

So after some chit chat they take off back to where ever it is that the richest people in the world hang. You get up and head to the liquor cabinet with a post it note. After writing a quick message on it, you pour yourself another drink and put the bottle with the message back into the cabinet.

After a little while playing Nibbles on the computer, a knocking sound comes from the secret panel in your office. You make a mental note to do something nice for Brick, since she is going out of her way to make your life pleasant. You open the panel. Unfortunately behind the panel is not Hot Pocket or Sausage Wrap (codewords for your very special “therapists”), but it’s Mr. Frost.

“Cheesy, you look disappointed.”

“Oh no big deal, thought you might be someone else.”

“I got your message, I understand you have a problem to solve.”

“Yeah, my buddies from Fort Knox,” codeword for Wall Street, “really want to get rid of the Occupy Wallstreeters. I figured you might have an idea about that.”

There’s a strange concerned look on Mr. Frost’s face now. He takes you by the arm and leads you to the couch, “Oh my, I didn’t realize it was this bad. Please, Cheesy, have a seat here and take a load off. Let me get you a drink.”

After refilling your glass and handing it to you, Frost sits down opposite you. “Cheesy, I’m concerned that you are working much to hard.” Oddly enough, that statement does not cause whiskey to spurt from your nose. “I realize that, like myself, you are a workaholic.” That statement does cause alcohol to shoot from your nose. “So I am aware of the pitfalls of this condition.”

His bedside manner is so good, you’re already becoming convinced. You lift your feet up onto the couch and lay back and take a drink, “I have been feeling a little run down lately.”

“That, sir, is obvious from the request you made of me just now.” Mr. Frost takes a drink of his whiskey.

“Really? How so?”

“Well, sir, the solution to this problem is so simple, it’s well within your already considerable skill set to solve without my help.”

You’re beginning to wonder if you might have a fever. You wave your empty glass and Mr. Frost hops up to refill it for you. “Okay, so help me out here, what is this simple solution?”

“Well, what we have here are a bunch of bored college students. And they’re pissed off they are broke. You know where they’d be right now if they weren’t broke?”

You shake your head weakly, “No.”

“Spring break. That’s all they really want.”

You realize, he’s right, you should have thought of this. But in your weakened condition you still can’t put it together into a plan. “So, what do we do?”

“Well first, in my capacity as Chief Intelligence Officer, I am ordering you to get some R&R. I would suggest, after a little emergency R&R, an extended trip to Acapulco. At least a couple of weeks.”

“But who’ll run things here while I’m gone?”

A blast of Scotch comes out of Mr. Frost. After a choking chuckle, “Good one, sir. I can see my treatment is already having a positive effect.”

“I’m still not a hundred percent. Fill in the blanks for me?”

“Okay we can’t just invite them all to go to Spring Break. Their self delusion won’t allow that. What we have to do is convince them that they are going there to further their cause.

So we need to infiltrate them with an obvious one percenter who can convince them that he is on their side and wants to help. You, sir, are the obvious choice for that. You’re the only one percenter out there who acts like a ninety-nine percenter.”

“I do like to be a man of the people.”

“So we put Duckie out there somewhere to make sure they don’t think it’s really you. And we inject you into the crowd…”

“You know the Agents Smith are going to want to come too? And probably the Drinking Buddies.” Of course that would be the Joint Chiefs.

“The Drinking Buddies are not a problem, just put them in some Hawaiian shirts and they’re good to go. Since we’re posing you as a one percenter, you can tell the crowd the Agents Smith are your accountants. They’ll buy that.”

“Okay… then what?”

“You tell the crowd that you’re as disgusted with your kind as they are. Tell them that you came to help. And that the people who they are protesting fled to Acapulco to get away from them, that they are protesting empty buildings. Then offer to fly them in your private jet so they can continue their protest at the foot of the very people they hate.”

“Yeah, it is pretty simple. I should have thought of this.”

“Well, since you brought me in on it, I can fill in a little bit of detail that you might have missed. We need to send Duckie to San Fransisco while he’s playing you.”

“Why there?”

“Well, it’s a younger crowd you’re taking to Acapulco, you’re going to need some supplies besides whiskey and beer.”

Mr. Frost gets up and heads toward the secret panel. “Now, about that emergency R&R…” He opens the panel and in comes Hot Pocket and Sausage Wrap. As they see your condition they rush to your side.

“Oh you poor baby! You look so worn, let’s get you comfortable.” Sausage Wrap says as she helps you out of your shirt. You notice that you never heard the panel shut as Mr. Frost left.

Operation Occupulco Spring starts off smoothly.

 *****

“White Rabbit, this is Clapton, I have a visual on target.”

“Roger that Clapton, Raising the hostile now. Unidentified plane, this United States Air Force Major Nelson, you are flying in a restricted air space. We will escort you to…”

Aboard the Cessna, “Oh crap! We have to dump the pot man!”

“Yeah, I’m sure those fighter jets won’t be filming us dropping eighty pounds of pot out the door. Dumbass. Just land so they don’t shoot us.”

*****

 “In the news tonight, a small plane which strayed into restricted presidential airspace during the president’s visit to San Fransisco was found to be carrying forty pounds of marijuana with a street value of…”

 *****

The Ground Rocket, AKA the Presidential Limo, now disguised as an ordinary limo (yeah, they took the little flags off the front…), really gets the attention of the Occupy Wall Street crowd. They’re all gathered around as you exit.

There’s a look of shock as they recognize you as the President. One of them greets you, “Mr. President…”

“Oh, no, I’m not the President, son, I just happen to look a lot like him. My name is Gekko, but you can just call me Gordy.” It takes some time for the crowd to get the message that you’re not you.

After the commotion dies down you ask, “Can I talk to the guy who’s running this show?” With the commotion at bay they’re starting to realize that you aren’t in the same tax bracket as them, so the hostility level is starting to rise. You realize that this is making your accountants nervous so you have to nip this in the bud.

“I am here to help you.” No one in this crowd it buying that, but one of them steps up.

“I’m Ted Williams and I’ll speak for the crowd.”

You reach out to shake his hand but he leaves you hanging, “Well, Mr. Williams… can I call you Ted?” No response. “Anyway, Ted, as you might have guessed, I am what you would call one of the one percenters.” This draws some hushed conversation in the crowd. “However, unlike my peers, I was once like you. I didn’t just have money dropped on me, I earned it the hard way.” Your mind drifts back to the moment where Agent Smith showed up at your door with the draft notice.

“And I don’t like that my peers are intent on shutting out people like yourselves from their little club.” You can feel a slight positive up tick in the crowd. “So I want to help.”

Ted is still skeptical. “How exactly do you think you can help us?”

“Well, I can tell you things you don’t know. For instance, there’s no one in that building you’re protesting at that is making above twenty bucks an hour. All of the upper management snuck out while you were sleeping.” This really gets the crowd going.

You continue, “That’s right. Those cowards have done what they always do. They ran away!” The crowd gets loud. You realize you may have a knack for public speaking. “The question is: what are you going to do about it?” Lots of rumbling from the crowd.

Ted looks confused now, “I guess the only thing we can do is keep protesting.” The crowd gets noticeably quieter.

“I think I have a better idea. You see, I have resources at my disposal that can help your cause by helping your protest.” There’s a hush as they are all waiting for your next line, “Being who I am, I just happen to know where they ran to and I just happen to have a private jet, of the 747 variety, fueled up and ready to take you all there to continue your protest!” The crowd cheers, signs wave.

“But where did they go?” Ted asks weakly, in his subconscious he knows he’s become second in command now.

“Well those cowards went to Acapulco! And I say we go there too! And we stay till we get the job done!” More cheers and sign waving.

You crawl up onto the hood of the Ground Rocket, “Who’s with me?” Hands and signs go up with a cheer. “GOOD! Then you all see those buses behind me? They’re my own personal chartered fleet. Everybody who wants to help us protest this travesty, just get on those buses and we’ll let those cowards know what you all are really about!” The crowd clambers toward the buses. It only takes moments to completely clear the street.

After a few trips back and forth in the SS Minnow, which since you’re undercover and not technically supposed to be the President is the new codeword for Air Force One, you find yourself, the Drinking Buddies, Captain Tailhook (pilot of the SS Minnow), Brick House, Major Tom (Your limo driver), Hot Pocket and Sausage Wrap, and the ever present Agents Smith sitting comfortably on the balcony of the hotel suite the following afternoon sipping drinks and watching the warm sun set toward the ocean. Out of the corner of your eye you see Mr. Frost appear, with a couple of gorgeous local girls in tow. You raise your glass to him. On the other end of the balcony you see Santa Anna (codeword for the President of Mexico) and his ‘therapist’, Gucci Cucci.

Down below the protest is going smoothly. There are at least seventy or so protesters in the hotel pool and twice that many protesting earnestly by making sure that each and every lounge chair is occupied. And the protesters in the pool appeared to have gotten maximum use of all their signs by lining them up across the Olympic sized pool midway as a volley ball net. Out on the beach are even more protesters, thoroughly occupying both the beach and the surf. Turns out, surfboards also make great signs.

You notice Ted sitting by the pool watching his protest. He still looks a bit confused, but you’re sure the open bar will help with that. Like you, he’s a leader and clearly he just needs a few days to unwind.

You, yourself, are beginning to get very relaxed, due in large part to the massage that Hot Pocket is performing. But just then, on the next balcony over, a man in a suit appears. You sit straight up in the lounge chair as you recognize Vampire Bill. That would be the code word for the Secretary of the Treasury. You notice the Agents Smith form up like the offensive line of a football team just after the ball is snapped. The even draw their guns.

Vampire Bill seems unusually at peace though as he raises his hands. “I’m unarmed, I just wanted to know if I could come over there with you guys.”

You’re sense of self preservation makes you skeptical. “Ok sure, I guess.” You figure you may as well get this over. You whisper to Agent Smith, “Frisk him thoroughly.”

A few minutes later the Agents Smith come back out onto the balcony, “He’s clean sir.” one of them says.

They are followed by a sight that stuns everyone on the balcony. Vampire Bill steps out. He’s wearing a hundred decibel loud Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts and is holding what is clearly not his first drink of the day. He looks at you through glazed eyes, “Hi Cheesy! How you doing?” He reaches his hand out and shakes yours. This makes both you and the Agents Smith nervous.

“Bill,” you nod, “Doing pretty good here I’d say. How about you?”

“Oh I’m great!” He slurs just a little, “After that unpleasantness a few weeks ago, I got enrolled in some GREAT anger management therpy… therarpy… therapy.” He pours himself into a lounge chair and puts on his sunglasses. “They called it alcohol therapy. I don’t know why, maybe they use it for alcoholics a lot. Anyway, it’s very relaxing,” he looks down at the pool, “a lot like this really. You just sit and basically eat good food and drink these special fruit drinks they call PJs.”

“You volunteered for anger management?”

He looks at you, and it takes a moment for his head to spiral to a stop. “Oh no, I didn’t think I had a problem. It was kind of a condition for having the gun on me. Anyway, the hospital hooked me up with Dr. Frost and he took me into the plan.”

All eyes swing toward Mr. Frost. Slowly Bill’s eyes follow. “Oh hey! I didn’t see you there. How you doing doctor?” Bill raises his glass to him.

Mr. Frost raises his glass to Bill, “I’m doing great and I’m glad to see you’re sticking to the plan. Not all of my patients keep to it you know?” Everyone on the balcony is suddenly a lot less tense and a lot of knowing smiles and nods pass around.

E.W.

There’s a saying: Fight fire with fire. I’m starting a new one: Fight vice with vice.

© 2012 Evil Wordsmith. Evilwordsmith.com. All Rights Reserved.

Um..Momma..I went into the backyard and recognized that the wheel barrel was filled with water and I put dirt in it, so it was muddy water. And I tried to pour it out…and…I poured it out into the lake…and..the wheel barrel went with it! Now I can’t get out!

Yep..the man child does it again…

© 2012 Evil Wordsmith. Evilwordsmith.com. All Rights Reserved.

"Red" Byron

The first race run at the Martinsville “paper clip” occurred on September 7, 1947 and Robert “Red” Bryon won $500 out of a $2,000 purse.

Robert “Red” Byron holds a record that can never be broken: he was the first NASCAR points champion. Red won the first NASCAR-sanctioned race on the beach-road course on February 15, 1948. He won 11 races that year, finished in the top three 23 times, and captured the first NASCAR championship.

Boulder, CO, Robert “Red” Byron moved to Anniston, AL at an early age. During World War II Byron served as a tail gunner on 57 missions in a B-24. He was shot down over Kikta in the Aleutian Islands on his 58th mission; one he flew for a friend whose wife was expected to give birth to their first child at any moment.

Although the doctors did not know if he would ever walk again, Red was determined to race. After 27 months in military hospitals with doctors trying to rebuild his left leg, Red returned to racing in February 1946.

Red retired from racing in the early 1950’s to head a sports car racing team. He died in 1960 from a heart attack. He was only 45. In 1966, Byron was inducted into the National Motorsports Press Association’s Hall of Fame at Darlington Raceway.

© 2012 Evil Wordsmith. Evilwordsmith.com. All Rights Reserved.