Tuesday, July 21, 2009

BILLY JACK COUNTRY: Prescuit, Airheadzona

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"When policemen break the law then there isn’t any law...
just a fight for survival."
~ Billy Jack (Tom Laughlin)



[Looking West on Gurley Street, Thumb Butte in distance, Prescott, Arizona.]

According to the book “Virgil Earp: Western Peace Officer”, Prescott, Arizona, was the famous lawman’s favorite Western town and the place where his career as a peace officer began. By early 1994, after having lived in Prescott for nearly a year and a half, I hated the place and couldn’t get out of town fast enough.

There is only so much culture shock one person can stand, and moving to Prescott from Los Angeles may have just been too much for me. Going from the heart of the West coast to Wide-Spot-In-The-Road, A(to)Z, with its commensurate Small Town mentality, I was in way under my head in Nowhere, U.S.A.

In leaving, I recall writing a nasty letter to the local newspaper comparing the small town mentality of the real Prescottonians to the small town mentality of the townspeople portrayed in the 1971 movie BILLY JACK – some of which was filmed in and around Prescott. (This was before I met Jesus; I was angrier and much less forgiving then.) Even the way the Prescottonians pronounced the name of their town irked me; it seemed to me an affectation and a way of separating “them” from “us.” Instead of saying “PrescOtt” like you or I would, they would say “Prescuit”, as in “biscuit.” The pronunciation struck me as being “too precious”, and that’s why I had taken to calling them “Precioustonians.” In the movie ‘Tombstone’ (1993), boring Sam Elliott, who plays the part of Virgil Earp, mentions that Doc Holliday is up in Prescott and having a run of luck on the poker tables. Note the way Elliott pronounces the name of the town and you’ll know what I mean.

On Sunday, July 12th, my brother Napoleon (Nappy for short) and I made the 90 minute drive from Phoenix to Prescott to escape the heat for a day. It was a cool 95 in Precious; 112 in The Valley Of The Sun. While we were up there dinking around, I took some photos to share with y’all (especially with OL’ WP, whom I promised a forthcoming Billy Jack Blog Bit).

Heck, I’ll admit I still like Billy Jack’s theme song, ‘One Tin Soldier.’ And if one can overlook the dippy, drippy, hippie stuffs in it; a few really bad acoustic ballads sung by kids who really can’t sing; and the goofy pseudo-spirituality in the movie, it’s actually fairly entertaining, although rather dated. As for the so-called “spiritual” angle: I mean, seriously, let a rattlesnake bite you multiple times, and if you survive you’ll be spirtually enlightened? If only spiritual growth was really that easy.

But there are a couple of really great scenes in Billy Jack – the two best are fight scenes which come back-to-back, making it one of the best tandems in silver screen history. The movie, if you haven’t seen it, has to do with a half-breed martial arts expert and war hero who hates the war (Vietnam) and who is now a kind of guardian for his Indian reservation and for the woman who runs a “progressive” school for troubled youth. If memory serves me, I first saw Billy Jack at a drive-in movie theater. I was just a little kid and my parents must have considered covering me with a blanket during the rape scene. But boy, after seeing that movie, I wanted a Billy Jack hat so bad I could taste the fur felt. Never did find one that really looked good on me, but I was still trying them on into my young adulthood.

The movie opens with a shot of a police car driving away from the town’s Courthouse. Below is my picture of the exact location as it looks now. (Identical!)




This is actually the backside of the Yavapai Courthouse in the center of Prescott on Gurley Street. (Yavapai is an ancient American Indian word which translated into English means “Crank that mediocre head-banging bullshit up to eleven and don’t bogart that joint.”)

Incidentally, I was involved in my first and only lawsuit at this same courthouse. It was a breach of contract dispute over the lease on a rental property. In the eleventh hour and fifty-ninth minute, we settled the argument before the judge but officially “out of court.” The plaintiff (me) technically won the suit and was awarded $100. But it definitely wasn’t worth the trouble.

The second shot in the movie is an aerial view of the police car traveling North on Cortez street. Immediately followed by a shot of the car going East on Gurley Street and the Elks Theatre is on the right side of the road. This is the location:



Gurley is the main street into Prescott, and if one went just a few blocks further up this road, he would come to the house I lived in for a year. Below is a picture of the front of the Elks Theatre with my brother Nappy sitting on the steps. I recall one night when I was stumbling home from a trip to the downtown bars, I got caught in a pretty good snowfall. I took shelter in this entrance to the Elks Theatre, accompanied by a stray dog who had befriended me. When the snow refused to let up and my dogfriend finally deserted me, I decided to stumble the last few blocks home alone:




The next time the movie Billy Jack revisits downtown Prescott, it’s for the scene where the kids from the “progressive” school come into town. You’re confident that there’s going to be trouble with the narrow-minded townspeople, and you’re right. Bernard Posner makes a $50. bet with his buddies that he can pick up “Little Miss Up Yours” from the “progressive” school. That bet is made right here at the four empty bar stools in The Palace Bar on Prescott’s “Whiskey Row.” (*See the Bonus Material at Blog’s end to learn mo’ ‘bout da Row.) Except that a TV set now occupies the place on the wall where a deer’s head hung when the movie was filmed, the place looks exactly the same:




Here’s the front of The Palace, where Bernard’s buddies empty out of the bar to see if Bernard is successful with “Little Miss Up Yours." He isn’t, and that starts the ball rolling:




Now we move to probably the two best scenes (back-to-back) in the entire movie. It’s not the fights that make these scenes so great; as with all great scenes it’s what is said, but even more importantly, it’s HOW what is said is said. (Got that?)

The kids from the “progressive” school, some of them being Indians, enter Kendall’s Burger And Ice Cream shop. Kendall’s is on Cortez, directly East of and across the street from the Courthouse:




The shop owner doesn’t want to serve ice cream to the Indians, and that’s how the trouble starts. Here’s an interior shot of Kendall’s:




Inside Kendalls today, you will find it looks nearly identical to how it did in 1971, although the walls are covered with posters of James Dean, Marilyn Monroe and various 1950s themed pictures. But nowhere will you find any reference to the famous movie Billy Jack which was filmed at Kendall’s. Only in Airheadzona!

There’s a great moment that just precedes the sh#t hitting the fan and the bad guys hitting the walls: After Bernard’s biggest friend, Dinosaur, has slugged the male Indian boy who falls to the ground, Bernard pours flour over the heads of the Indian children in order to make them appear white, so the shop owner can now serve them ice cream with a clear conscience. Just when it seems that Bernard is going to get away with this, he notices that the kids have been distracted by something they’ve seen through the shop window. Bernard turns around to see Billy Jack has parked his Jeep across the street and is about to enter the shop. DOH! Looks like you picked the wrong day to mess with the Indian children, Bernard!

Here’s a view out the shop window - minus Billy Jack’s approach:



OK, second best scene in the movie right here. Billy Jack enters the door, takes a look around, and then he slowly removes his cool black hat and lets out a big breath of air as if trying to release the steam that’s building up. Billy looks at Bernard and his two buddies and says, softly, calmly, deliberately:

“Bernard. I want you to know that I try. When Jean and the kids at the school tell me that I’m supposed to control my violent temper and be passive and nonviolent like they are, I try. I REALLY try. But when I see this girl of such a beautiful spirit so degraded; and when I see this boy that I love, balled up by this big ape here [looking at Dinosaur]; and this little girl who’s so special to us that we call her God’s little gift of sunshine; and I think of the number of years she’s going to carry in her memory the savagery… of this… idiotic moment of yours… I just go BERSERK!!!”
*POW!* *BIFF!* *ZAP!*

[Sorry, a little 1966 Batman crept into my Blog there.]

Billy Jack mops up Kendall’s with Bernard and his buddies (Dinosaur gets a free trip through the window. Don’t forget to send us a post card, Dinosaur).

Alright, immediately after that great scene, an even better one occurs: Billy Jack leaves Kendall’s and crosses the street to the Courthouse. He discovers that his Jeep has been tampered with so it won’t start. He looks out at the courthouse square and we’re shown a shot of the Bucky O’Neil statue which still stands on the grounds in front of the Courthouse. Bucky O’Neil was a member of Teddy Roosevelt’s Roughriders:



By now, townsmen who support Mr. Posner (Bernard’s dad) have arrived. One thug steps out from behind a tree. Billy Jack turns right. More thugs converge on him until he is completely surrounded by countless men. Yup. Gonna be mo’ sh#t hitting the fan (and ground) in a minute. In the center of this picture is the tree that the first thug was concealed by. The movie’s biggest fight scene begins on the grassy area just behind the tree:



With Billy Jack surrounded on the Courthouse lawn, Mr. Posner arrives, and the movie’s best stuffs is found in the dialogue leading into the huge fight…

MR. POSNER: “Do you really think those Green Beret Karate tricks are gonna help you against all these boys?”

BILLY JACK: “Well, it doesn’t look to me like I really have any choice, now does it?”

MR. POSNER [Laughing]: “No, that’s right, you don’t.”

BILLY JACK: “You know what I think I’m gonna do then, just for the hell of it?”

MR. POSNER: “Tell me.”

BILLY JACK: “I’m gonna take this right foot, and I’m gonna whop you on THAT side of your face. And you wanna know something? There’s not a damn thing you’re gonna be able to do about it.”

MR. POSNER [Grinning]: “REALLY?”

BILLY JACK: “Really.”
[Pause]

*WHOP!*

MR. POSNER [From the ground]: “Kill that Indian son-of-a-bitch!”

And it’s ON!

The big fight takes place all around the fountain in the photo below. My favorite move is the one where a thug charges Billy Jack, but Billy sidesteps him, locks arms and slams the guy’s head right into the iron fencing that encircles the fountain. OOH! That’s gonna leave a mark.



The movie BILLY JACK is supposed to illustrate the difference between groovy, peace-loving ‘60s hippies and the straight-laced, uptight, nonenlightened, bigoted suits of status quo conformity. But in my opinion, most of the characters come off as rather annoying and somewhat ignorant. Nevertheless, the movie does contain a couple of truly classic scenes and a really good line of dialogue here and there. (Watch for an appearance of Howard Hesseman who later played “Dr. Johnny Fever” in TV’s ‘WKRP In Cincinnati’.) BILLY JACK is worth popping into the ol’ DVD player, although I have heard that the sequels have virtually no redeeming qualities, and somehow I can believe that.

And if I could find one that looked good on me, I’d still buy me a Billy Jack hat.

Now the valley cried with anger,
"Mount your horses! Draw your sword!"
And they killed the mountain-people,
So they won their just reward.

Now they stood beside the treasure,
On the mountain, dark and red.
Turned the stone and looked beneath it...
"Peace on Earth" was all it said.
~ from the song ‘One Tin Soldier’


~ Stephen T. McCarthy

BONUS MATERIAL [Or, MO’ INFO THAN YA WANNA KNOW]:

Below is a photo of where I lived during most of my Prescott life. It was an old house that had been converted into three apartments. Stephen T. McCarthy? First door on the left. I wish whoever lives there now would take their phony “artwork” out of my front windows. Although I didn’t like Prescott, I did like my living quarters: only a few blocks from the downtown bars and a great location for viewing the town’s big Fourth of July parade:



About a week before I moved away from Prescott, I had a brief spiritual experience in my apartment there. A friend, Don, had come to my place and he began talking about Jesus. Something strange started happening to me: I suddenly felt extremely warm and I was sure my face had become flush. A big, goofy grin became plastered on me; I couldn’t seem to remove it. And I was feeling very lightheaded. (No, I hadn’t been drinking!) I knew that something very real was happening to me, but I didn’t know what or why, so I was embarrassed by it and tried to hide it from Don. Finally, the feeling subsided. It would be just 5 weeks later when I would have another Jesus-related encounter – a spiritual Baptism - while living in Los Angeles. And only then would I come to understand what was happening to me in Prescott and why Jesus put it on hold until I was in L.A.

The West side of Montezuma Street between Gurley and Goodwin, directly across from the Courthouse, is known as WHISKEY ROW. There are 5, maybe 6 bars located in that one block, and while I was serving time in Prescott, I did plenty of it on Whiskey Row. Here’s the proud street sign:



As I mentioned previously, the Palace Bar, where Bernard Posner and his buddies hangout, is on Whiskey Row, but the bar I liked best on the Row was MATT’S SALOON. They had a video shooting game I liked there (liked it ‘cause I was good at it) and a video trivia game that Nappy and I enjoyed testing our knowledge on during those occasions when he made weekend trips up from Phoenix to stay with me:



The following comes from Waylon Jennings’ autobiography:

“I had met Richie Albright through Tom Grasel, who hung out in a bar on Whiskey Row in Prescott called Matt’s. It would get really hot in Phoenix in the summertime, and Prescott was a lot cooler, being amost a mile high in the pines. Tom had brought Richie to Frankie’s one night, and when I came to Prescott to play the annual Fourth of July Frontier Days up there – Prescott was the original site of the first competition rodeo – we played at Matt’s, alternating with Richie’s band. He stayed put on the drums. There wasn’t much other room to sit; it was so crowded in that little bar, you weren’t able to start a fight because you couldn’t draw your hand back.”
[-page 90]

To this day there are photos on the walls at Matt’s showing Waylon Jennings in action on stage, and he’s not exaggerating - that bar was packed tight! There’s also a photo on one wall showing William Holden, Ben Johnson and Sam Peckinpah drinking at Matt’s Saloon during that period when they were making THE WILD BUNCH. Whoever labeled the photo named the wrong movie. True, Peckinpah directed Ben Johnson (and Steve McQueen) in the movie ‘Junior Bonner’ which was filmed in Prescott, but ‘The Wild Bunch’ was the masterpiece in which Peckinpah, Johnson and Holden teamed up. [Airheadzonans! They never get it right.]:





On March 13th, 1993, Nappy drove up to Prescott from Phoenix to spend the weekend with me. We began the night by going to see a boxing match he didn’t want to miss which was being shown on TV at a bar where the Old Firehouse Plaza now stands. Nappy was rooting for Humberto Gonzalez, whom he was sure would beat Michael Carbajal – a boxer Nappy didn’t like. Well, some patron across the bar from us evidently took exception to us rooting against the hometown hero, so, with an eye toward us, he became overly boisterous and animated in his cheering for Carbajal. Nappy got animated back.

Gonzalez was “showing Carbajal a lesson” in the ring until he got careless and was KO’d in the 7th round. This put Nappy in a bit of a foul mood. On our way out, we had to walk right past the Carbajal fan, and I was hoping he wouldn’t say anything to Nappy. My brother stands just five feet, six inches off the ground but, trust me, he’s the last guy in the bar you wanna fight. Well, fortunately, the other patron didn’t say a word and we left without incident. [By the way, Gonzalez beat Carbajal in their rematch, and beat him yet again in the rubber match.]

Although unplanned, Nappy and I then began drinking our way up Whiskey Row. The first bar we walked into was The Bird Cage Saloon (not to be confused with the fabulous Bird Cage Theatre in Tombstone). Here’s a picture of it:



My Brother and I had a couple of drinks in The Bird Cage Saloon and went to leave. I was behind Nappy and we were heading for the door when some guy stopped me by grabbing my shoulder a little more firmly than one ought to touch a stranger. I turned and saw a rather large, beefy guy I’d never seen before who said, “Hey, man, I like your coat.” In those days I often wore a Western duster, similar to what you see in movies like ‘Pale Rider’ and ‘Once Upon A Time In The West.’ “Thanks,” I said, knowing full well that this conversation was really just a prelude to a fight, or “fisticuff foreplay.” Most of you guys know what I mean; a bully will make seemingly innocent remarks leading to that point where he says, “What’d you call my Mama?” and then it’s on.

Well, I knew this guy was spoiling for a fight, but why, I couldn’t say. Maybe because I’m not a whole lot bigger than Nappy is, or maybe because I just looked “too cool” in the duster. But whatever reason, the small talk continued while a part of my mind was standing outside of the situation, observing it and being somewhat amused by it. I felt like I was on a school playground again.

Meanwhile, Nappy had reached the door and glancing back, saw that I was not behind him. Then he saw me back in the bar and standing face-to-face with Bullyboy. Well, Nappy’s no fool, and he figured out immediately what this was leading to, so he came back and stood on the other side of my “new friend.” Suddenly, Bullyboy found himself the featured meat in a McCarthy sandwich. Nappy says to him, “Hey, what’s your name?” The guy says, “Gunther.” I nearly laughed. I mean, seriously, if his name hadn’t been Gunther it would have been Bruno, Bubba, or Rocco. Gunther! Oh, my gosh, it was TOO perfect. Nappy says, “You got a cigarette, Gunther?” So Gunther fetches one out of his pocket and hands it to Nappy. “Got a light, Gunther?” Nappy asks him, and Gunther lights Nappy’s cigarette for him. In less than a minute, Gunther went from being a bullyboy looking for a fight to being Nappy’s little bitch.

As I said before, Nappy was not in a good mood to begin with because of the outcome of the boxing match earlier. And, for any guy who is perceptive enough to sense it, Nappy just naturally gives off this vibe that says “Don’t Mess With Me Unless You’ve Got Four Bodyguards, A Priest, A Minister, A Pregnant Wife And Three Small Children To Beg Me For Mercy On Your Behalf.” Gunther may have been big and dumb, but I know he sensed that vibe; he read my Brother’s attitude and his body language well enough to survive the night with his teeth intact. Nappy’s not big, but he has two things going for him: 1) Surprise - Nappy knows that he will be underestimated because of his stature. 2) Confidence – Nappy believes he’s gwonna kick booty… and I believe he’s right.

[*It should be noted, however, that Nappy is a very cool and funny guy who never started a fight in his life. He’s more spiritual than combative; you just don’t want to start any crap with him, that’s all. Nappy is part Tasmanian Devil and part Billy Jack, only much quicker and without the good table manners.]

I think Gunther became concerned that Nappy might pick a fight with him before he could pick a fight with me. So, Gunther tucked his tail between his scales and slithered away, and Nappy and I continued drinking our way up Whiskey Row. And after we had worn out all the bars on the Row, we walked a block to Cortez Street and started on those. We hit Lyzzard’s Lounge and Sneakers (now called The Office) and Buzzard’s Gulch, or whatever that bad joint was called then (it’s now a Jazz Wine Bar or something) and, of course, we hit The Cattleman’s bar. [*More about The Cattleman’s Bar in a future Blog Bit]. We may have even gone to The Boiler Room that evening – that’s really scraping the bottom of the corn
liquor jug.

Well, Nappy and I got so liquidated and woke up with such bad hangovers that I later dubbed that evening “The Terrible Night.” I’m certainly not proud of this, but if it seems I’m bragging it’s only because I have so little else to write about.

The day after The Terrible Night, Nappy and I needed a little “hair of the dog” in the worst way; strictly for medicinal purposes, ya un’erstan’. But we were hesitant to enter any of the bars for fear that we might owe people apologies and would be recognized from the night before. Eventually, we walked the few blocks from my apartment to Sneakers and I said to Nappy: Look. Let’s just go in, take a place at the far end of the bar, keep our heads down to avoid eye contact with anyone, and when the bartender comes over we’ll just keep our eyes on the floor and say, “Can we drink here?”

And guess what. It worked! In fact, it worked too well. By early evening we were heading toward a second Terrible Night. That’s when I said to Nappy, “Oh, this has got to STOP!” And we did.

Sunday, July 12th was nothing like The Terrible Night, although Nappy and I did pop into the Prescott Brewing Company for lunch and had a glass of their fine beer to accompany the meal. The Prescott Brewing Company is housed in the three-story building that was the J.C. Penney department store during Billy Jack’s time. (It’s the greenish building seen over Sheriff Cole’s shoulder while he’s bringing an end to the fight in the Courthouse square.)

Petrified Porter is one of the Prescott Brewing Company’s flagship beers. My Pa once gave it his very highest rating (an R, which is the equivalent of an A++) and said, “When you taste a fresh brew like this, there is no comparison to the crap we drink out of bottles.” Although Nappy and I may like the PBC’s Ponderosa India Pale Ale even better. Below is the Prescott Brewing Company; now dark sand-colored instead of green:



Ordinarily, I protest having my picture taken. Who wants to be reminded of what Father Time’s scythe has done to their appearance? But when Nappy told me to remove my eyeglasses and say “Cheese”, I half-complied. Here is your Humble Host having lunch and a glass of Petrified Porter at the Prescott Brewing Company. Bottoms up!



On our way back to Phoenix, Nappy and I went through Black Canyon City (takes about three minutes to see the entire “city”) and stopped briefly at Rock Springs. They bake great pies at Rock Springs, but my Pa and I used to go there primarily to play the horses in the Off-Track Betting Parlor they once had. My kind O’place.
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The next time you’re in Rock Springs, say “Hola” to
Saguaro Sanchez:



Well, that pretty well covers my latest visit to Prescott. Although I should add that on our way out of town Nappy and I saw a Blockbuster video store that was closing up shop. They were selling all their “previously viewed” DVDs real cheap. I bought ‘Altered States’ (1980) , ‘Field Of Dreams’ (1989), ‘The Longest Yard’ (1974), and the classic ‘The Man Who Would Be King’ (1975), all for just $17. What a deal! It was the first time I ever left “Prescuit” feeling like a winner.

~ STMcC
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Wednesday, July 15, 2009

DOGGEREL VERSE IN MOTION

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CARS

WE LIKE CARS.

WE GO TO THE CIRCUS IN CARS.

SOME CARS R 1916.

CARS GO AROUND.

MY CAR IS 1967.

I LIKE CARS.

~ by Stephen T. McCarthy; 1967.
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Monday, July 6, 2009

THE ROCKY BALBOA OF WRESTLING

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The following article appeared in a local Airheadzona newspaper I happened to pick up and read one day. Something about the story touched a place in my heart that I try to keep out of reach. Well, dogged if now I don’t feel like I want to make a modest donation to this wrestler’s impossible dream. Read this brief article and see if that hidden wallet in your own hidden heart isn’t also touched:

OLD WRESTLER REVIVES DREAM OF COMPETING

By Randy Camacho

Staff members at Ira Murphy Elementary School in Peoria noticed the gradual weight loss of Assistant Principal Sammy Chagolla.

His friends and family had observed the physical change, as well. Sammy's ill-fitting clothes were beginning to hang from his shrinking body. But, no one could build up the nerve to ask the simple question, “Sammy, are you all right? Are you dying?”

For Sammy, the story begins in July 2008, when his wife, Carrie, gave him a letter she happened upon while both were looking through some old wrestling photos.

Sammy had written the letter to himself in 1988 at age 23, after he failed to make the U.S. Olympic wrestling team.

The letter was full of regret and second-guessing. He believed he should've wrestled in a lower weight class. He also believed he had let his coach, family and teammates down.

This sinking feeling of a dream unfulfilled prompted Sammy to write the letter.

Sammy wrote, “If I'm healthy at the age of 45, I will train to wrestle in a big national wrestling tournament. Maybe if I'm healthy and daring, I can just enjoy the battle of the sport of wrestling. I don't know if this will happen, but I'm a dreamer. … I hope God will help me get past the failure of the Olympics Trials.”

He also promised to become a wrestling coach for Peoria and guide them to a state championship; which he did.

So that evening, Sammy located his old jogging shoes and began training privately. For months Sammy concealed from everyone the dream that had thrust itself upon him.

He's a private person and didn't want the added pressure. By November, Sammy had shed nearly 40 pounds. He was weighing in at 138, one weight class lower than the weight he wrestled at in the Olympic Trials. Interestingly, Sammy lost the weight naturally by eating and training properly, a far cry from his training method 20 years earlier, which consisted of starving himself to make weight.

Looking back, had he trained this way and wrestled in a lower weight class it might have made the difference in making the Olympic team.

Sammy would go public with the wrestling news in April. But not before he was on his way to Las Vegas to take part in the Veteran's National Championships in an effort to undo 20 years of regret. It meant a great deal to Sammy to have his former high school coach in his corner.

Sammy would go on to place second in the 138.5 weight class, ages 40-48. Greatly elated, Sammy felt a tremendous weight lifted from his shoulders.

Sammy's journey was supposed to end in Las Vegas. But, placing second in the national tournament qualified him to participate in the World Championship Tournament in Turkey in August. Sammy is wrestling with raising $5,000 to cover the cost of the trip. A fundraising Web site, http://www.samchagolla.com/, has been created.

The “Little Wrestler Who Could” has proved he has one more in him and his arduous long journey serves as an inspiration to all who believe they have one more in them, as well.

Randy Camacho can be reached at
randycamacho @cox.net.

~ Stephen T. McCarthy (can be reached by a bribe).

Postscript: The links above take you to a page explaning how to donate.
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Saturday, July 4, 2009

AFTER THE BEER RUNS OUT: REVOLUTION!

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"Proclaim Liberty throughout all the land
unto all the inhabitants thereof."
~ Leviticus 25:10
(Inscribed on The Liberty Bell.)



Our American men in Vietnam, Imprisoned and knowingly Left Behind by your own government, "You Are Not Forgotten."

(Read "AN ENORMOUS CRIME: The Definitive Account Of American POWs Abandoned In Southeast Asia" by Bill Hendon and Elizabeth Stewart.)



"Prudence, indeed, will dictate that governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly, all experience hath shown that mankind are more disposed to suffer while evils are sufferable than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same object, evinces a design to reduce them under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such government and to provide new guards for their future security."
~ Thomas Jefferson
"The Declaration Of Independence"



A "Happy Fourth Of July" from my house to your house.
Mom, Apple Pie, Hot Dogs, Baseball and Beer, Beer, Beer makes ya wanna cheer! Ice Cold Duck makes ya wanna . . .
Fudge! I left my Disco Records at the Aerobics Class!

~ Stephen T. McCarthy
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