The Argus, Mickey Jackson, and Pat O'Brien
I’ve got a lot to rant about today, so let’s not waste any time.
Last Thursday, the Argus wasted four pages with another insipid “Best of Sioux Falls” compilation. I must admit that this year’s effort was a vast improvement over last year. Accompanying the predictable reader’s choices were additional victors chosen by the Argus’ staff, a suggestion that I made on this station last summer.
They also added a few not-so-positive awards, although not nearly as many as they should. That was pretty enjoyable, especially when a couple of insufferable TV twits were given a bit of a tongue-lashing, and not the type they’re generally used to receiving.
But overall, there really wasn’t that much of a difference this year. Once again, there were too many categories that were nothing more than rewrites of each other. Predictably, the same bars and restaurants swept these awards. I must add that I really don’t understand the Argus’ hatred of Touch of Europe – did a server fail to give up the goods to a staffer of the paper? Or is the business suffering because one of their waiters is a well-known local artist who is even mouthier than I?
One other aspect of this birdcage lining bothers me – I’ve been told that only 200 ballots were sent in to the paper. It’s pretty hard to establish a consensus with so few contributors…especially when 50 or so of them supposedly came from a certain local business that just happened to win more than a few awards. If this tidbit is true, I’m extremely disappointed. These folks are extremely well-liked, and probably didn’t need to stuff the ballot box.
Let’s carry on – as everybody in the world knows, the Michael Jackson case finally came to a close yesterday. Thank God. Can we finally move on to more important topics…oh, wait, the Phil Spector trial commences in a few weeks. Never mind.
Like most people, I did tune in to the verdict. Of course, I had no choice as it was carried on every channel. Afterwards, I was ready to move on, but the brainiacs that run the television industry were not yet ready. It was an orgy of loud-mouths –male, female, and more than one that whose gender was questionable. Apologists claimed that he was vindicated. Yeah, right. Others said that he would return to the top of the charts. Uh, that hasn’t happened since Nirvana replaced him that magical week in late 1991.
Those on the other side were just as ridiculous. Nancy Grace, easily the most despicable talking head in television history, berated the jury, stating that they should have found him guilty even if the case wasn’t legally proven. Although that juror who claimed she knew how she was voting because of how the accuser’s mother wagged her finger should have never been allowed on a jury.
Hopefully, this is the last time the name “Michael Jackson” ever exits my loud mouth. However, I do have to bring back one more name that has been berated many times in this timeslot. This is a man recently shared the spotlight with the Gloved One thanks to his tawdry tale of booze, babes, and blow.
Yes, I’m talking about Pat O’Brien, who somehow made it back into Hudsonland despite being exiled two or three years ago by the Ayatollah of Rock and Rolla, aka me. He made it back thanks to a silly bobblehead promotion by our friends at “The Birdcage”.
I have nothing against our minor, minor league baseball team. I’ve been to a few games, and it is quite enjoyable to drink a few beers on a cool summer evening. Inevitably, I leave around the 7th inning with the homeboys down by six or seven runs. Maybe instead of investing a bunch of cash in a promotion that was tired and old five years ago, they could throw a few bucks at a few players that could result in at least a .500 record.
No, it’s easier to entice some publicity-hungry so-called “entertainment journalists” to act like big shots for an hour or two. First we had Entertainment Tonight’s Mary Hart. Yecch. I know she’s originally from Hudsonland, but couldn’t we just extend the border to include that young, dark-haired hottie from her show?
Worse yet was last week’s appearance by Pat O’Brien. Of course, he was accompanied by not one but two front page newspaper articles where he dropped every name possible. Roger Clemens supposedly gave him tips on “getting the ball to the plate”. Another sports icon, Wayne Gretzky, says he’s “always there for him”. David Brinkley gave him his first job because he was from South Dakota. He claims that going on Dr. Phil was “courageous”, despite their corporate connections and questions lobbed softer than a Canaries middle-reliever. He even name-dropped local celebrities such as Captain 11.
“The people have forgiven me”, he proclaimed to writer David Kranz. No, the people don’t give a damn. Keep that gigantic ego in L.A. with your fake friends who only like you when they have a crappy record or action movie to sell. We don’t need you, and we don’t want you.
I’ve got a lot to rant about today, so let’s not waste any time.
Last Thursday, the Argus wasted four pages with another insipid “Best of Sioux Falls” compilation. I must admit that this year’s effort was a vast improvement over last year. Accompanying the predictable reader’s choices were additional victors chosen by the Argus’ staff, a suggestion that I made on this station last summer.
They also added a few not-so-positive awards, although not nearly as many as they should. That was pretty enjoyable, especially when a couple of insufferable TV twits were given a bit of a tongue-lashing, and not the type they’re generally used to receiving.
But overall, there really wasn’t that much of a difference this year. Once again, there were too many categories that were nothing more than rewrites of each other. Predictably, the same bars and restaurants swept these awards. I must add that I really don’t understand the Argus’ hatred of Touch of Europe – did a server fail to give up the goods to a staffer of the paper? Or is the business suffering because one of their waiters is a well-known local artist who is even mouthier than I?
One other aspect of this birdcage lining bothers me – I’ve been told that only 200 ballots were sent in to the paper. It’s pretty hard to establish a consensus with so few contributors…especially when 50 or so of them supposedly came from a certain local business that just happened to win more than a few awards. If this tidbit is true, I’m extremely disappointed. These folks are extremely well-liked, and probably didn’t need to stuff the ballot box.
Let’s carry on – as everybody in the world knows, the Michael Jackson case finally came to a close yesterday. Thank God. Can we finally move on to more important topics…oh, wait, the Phil Spector trial commences in a few weeks. Never mind.
Like most people, I did tune in to the verdict. Of course, I had no choice as it was carried on every channel. Afterwards, I was ready to move on, but the brainiacs that run the television industry were not yet ready. It was an orgy of loud-mouths –male, female, and more than one that whose gender was questionable. Apologists claimed that he was vindicated. Yeah, right. Others said that he would return to the top of the charts. Uh, that hasn’t happened since Nirvana replaced him that magical week in late 1991.
Those on the other side were just as ridiculous. Nancy Grace, easily the most despicable talking head in television history, berated the jury, stating that they should have found him guilty even if the case wasn’t legally proven. Although that juror who claimed she knew how she was voting because of how the accuser’s mother wagged her finger should have never been allowed on a jury.
Hopefully, this is the last time the name “Michael Jackson” ever exits my loud mouth. However, I do have to bring back one more name that has been berated many times in this timeslot. This is a man recently shared the spotlight with the Gloved One thanks to his tawdry tale of booze, babes, and blow.
Yes, I’m talking about Pat O’Brien, who somehow made it back into Hudsonland despite being exiled two or three years ago by the Ayatollah of Rock and Rolla, aka me. He made it back thanks to a silly bobblehead promotion by our friends at “The Birdcage”.
I have nothing against our minor, minor league baseball team. I’ve been to a few games, and it is quite enjoyable to drink a few beers on a cool summer evening. Inevitably, I leave around the 7th inning with the homeboys down by six or seven runs. Maybe instead of investing a bunch of cash in a promotion that was tired and old five years ago, they could throw a few bucks at a few players that could result in at least a .500 record.
No, it’s easier to entice some publicity-hungry so-called “entertainment journalists” to act like big shots for an hour or two. First we had Entertainment Tonight’s Mary Hart. Yecch. I know she’s originally from Hudsonland, but couldn’t we just extend the border to include that young, dark-haired hottie from her show?
Worse yet was last week’s appearance by Pat O’Brien. Of course, he was accompanied by not one but two front page newspaper articles where he dropped every name possible. Roger Clemens supposedly gave him tips on “getting the ball to the plate”. Another sports icon, Wayne Gretzky, says he’s “always there for him”. David Brinkley gave him his first job because he was from South Dakota. He claims that going on Dr. Phil was “courageous”, despite their corporate connections and questions lobbed softer than a Canaries middle-reliever. He even name-dropped local celebrities such as Captain 11.
“The people have forgiven me”, he proclaimed to writer David Kranz. No, the people don’t give a damn. Keep that gigantic ego in L.A. with your fake friends who only like you when they have a crappy record or action movie to sell. We don’t need you, and we don’t want you.
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