Saturday, November 14, 2015

Ron Baskin, The Regal Lion

The sad call came from my buddy Brett Miles.

He was crying over the loss of a fellow pal and Heidelberg High Lion for the ages:

Ron Baskin.

If Billy Joel sings it right, that only the good die young, Ron fits the ONLY tag. He was good and young at 60.

Good man.

Good dad.

Good athlete.

Make that great sportsman.

Brett recalled how Ron quarterbacked the Patrick Henry Village Browns to dominance in youth football.

And how once they pulled on the Lion blue & gold, Ron shifted to halfback, with Brett calling signals.

And so it continued with the Gold Dust Twins, as Ben Abrams cheered in Stars & Stripes, the GI newspaper covering the American military community in Europe.

Baskin and Miles turned HHS' varsity into a football juggernaut from 1970 to 1972, with Ron returning and rushing the Lions to a Hall of Fame triumph over Frankfurt in their sophomore season.

Baskin-Miles trumped Baskin-Robbins with ice-cold precision on the basketball court.

Ron & Brett made the Defense Department school system's cinder their personal track.

The memories overwhelmed Brett at his home in Santa Monica, Calif., a marathon from Ron's Dallas but steps from the mental picture of glory days.

Others from Heidelberg High weighed in. Karen Kalina, down the road from Ron in Austin, wept over her dear friend. Debra Ford-Robertson wrote endearing thoughts from California.

Also by the Pacific, I'm reminiscing about a wonderful day in our wonderland - Heidelberg, Germany - where Ron married HHS sweetheart Clivia. The couple killed it on that wedding afternoon in the Holy Ghost Church three decades ago - groom snappy in Army officer dress blues, bride in a gown straight out of Vogue.

You knew they would produce gorgeous children, and they did: Margeaux and Tai.

Now Lions hither and yon are flooding Facebook with their tears upon Ron sister Monica's shocking news.

It came on Friday the 13th, when Paris also died.

Not an easy time.

The least we can do is salute the Rock that was Ron.

Bucky Fox is a Heidelberg American High School loyalist, class of 1973, who writes, edits and suns in Southern California.

Saturday, August 2, 2014

Pat Buchanan, A Hero In Nixon's Moon Shot

Pat Buchanan takes no prisoners.

His aim is to defend America's greatness. And if blacks, Jews, Muslims, Mexicans, queens and Bush backers (I'm one of them) get their feelings hurt during his riddling, tough.

Such shots got Buchanan fired from MSLSD (Mark Levin's twist on the lefty network), which was fine news for Pat fans. Now he ended up on my namesake channel, Fox News, where we could catch the deepest, cleverest commentator in the biz. All is good in righty land.

Here's the truth among libs: They pay attention to him. Why? Because Pat Buchanan can flat-out write. His prose is entertaining like no one in the newspaper, magazine, blog arena. Period. Paragraph.

Those last two words are stolen from Pat. Along with a grasp of geography, names, politics and history like no one else in the arena (check out his appearance on Peter Robinson's online show "Uncommon Knowledge" for dead-on analysis you can't turn off), Buchanan has old-school lines that make his columns and books sing. Such as: "headed for the tall grass." Meaning pussed out.

No wonder Richard Nixon hired him. He found a thoroughbred and rode his speechwriting and brilliant ideas from 1966 all the way to the presidency two years hence.

The stunning gallop is captured in Pat's new book, "The Greatest Comeback: How Richard Nixon Rose From Defeat to Create the New Majority."

Being the Nixon and Buchanan cheerer that I am, I bought the tome the minute it went on sale. And a ticket to see the man who in his 20s had the guts to join the former vice president when all anyone else saw was a loser of 1960 and '62.

During what Nixon called his wilderness years pretending to be a lawyer in New York, Buchanan was just about the whole staff. And he talked all about it in a riveting speech and Q&A at the Nixon Library in Yorba Linda, Calif., 20 minutes from my home, on July 21.

I could've listened to Pat for a week straight. The man is Mount Rushmore compelling. As it was, I had his ear and fun delivery during the book signing. Told him my sister lives in his McLean, Va., neighborhood. And asked what he thought of Ted Agnew the man. Pat said he got along great with him, only it was too bad the vice president took cash in the basement. Ah, well. Let others wallow.

So the book. Just finished it and gotta say it's right up there with fellow Nixon scribe Bill Safire's "Before the Fall" as the coolest political productions you could ever read.

Favorite takes:

* Quoting Murray Kempton of the New York Post: "One finally decides that he must have manufactured a splendid car at American Motors. You got to have a great product for George Romney to sell it."

* "The cruelty of the commentary on Romney continued unabated. Gene McCarthy was quoted as saying that in Romney's case a full brainwashing had been unnecessary, as 'a light rinse would have sufficed.' "

"Years later, after I had dropped off a speech draft in the Oval Office, the President read it and muttered, 'For God's sake, Buchanan, get some lift into it!' As I reached the door, he said loud enough to hear, 'Why can't I get speechwriters like Wilson's?' Not until I was outside the Oval Office did I retort, sotto voce, 'Wilson wrote his own speeches.' "

* "Rockefeller said he had written an affidavit to have his name removed from the Oregon ballot. 'It is my complete conviction that this is the truest service I now can give to my party and my country.' Dwight and I rushed to the bedroom. 'He's not running!' 'It's the girl,' said Nixon." Meaning a Rocky affair.

* "(Martin Luther) King had moved so far out of the mainstream that black columnist Carl Rowan had penned an attack on him in Reader's Digest. Bill Buckley wrote that King was becoming 'the Harold Stasson of the civil rights movement.' That there would be a national holiday for King was unimaginable in that spring of 1968, as would the claim by 21st-century conservatives that Dr. King was somehow one of us."

* "The pattern was set. Violence by whites resisting integration merited national coverage and thunderous condemnation. Black-on-white violence called for reticence and perspective, an understanding of the 'root causes.' "

* "Nixon's advice went down to the minutest detail. When on the road, 'never pass a men's room without going in,' he advised me, which I found to be sage counsel. Once when a congressman put in the Congressional Record remarks insulting Nixon, I wrote a letter that was just short of challenging him to a duel. Nixon told me to drop it. 'Ignore him,' Nixon said. 'He's congressman.' What he meant is that an ex-vice president does not engage a congressman. That would diminish us and elevate him."

* "Among his finer performances in 1968 had been the one before the American Society of Newspaper Editors, where Nixon had opened himself up for questioning by the editors after Governor Rockefeller bored them with one of his ponderous speeches on more money for the cities."

* "On the plane back, the writers were called up to the front. Nixon seemed relaxed, confident, fatalistic about the outcome. After the previous evening's jolting remark on the telethon about down to the 'nut-cutting,' he went into a disquisition on 'sheep fries' and 'lamb fries' — testicles, how they were obtained, and how delicious some folks thought they were."

Marvelous stuff from Pat. Now the man who led the Buchanan Brigades through his own primary runs of 1992 and '96 has new marching orders: a book on the Vietnam War-ending, all-volunteer-Army-starting, Israel-rescuing, moon-landing Nixon presidency of 1969 to '74.

Bucky Fox is an author and editor in Southern California.

Saturday, August 17, 2013

Finally, Fox TV Follows Fox (Me)

It's on!

Fox Sports 1 kicked off over the weekend. Nine years after I pushed for it in my very first effort for

OK, so it's a decade late. But who's counting? Now flabby ESPN has competition. Another network is going round the clock with sports. And you better believe Fox will live up to our name. Just look at Fox News. It's No. 1 on the cable front. I'll bet Fox 1 carries that number right past the Mother Ship, as its old mate Dan Patrick calls it.

Here's what I predicted in January 2004:

If Fox television were related to me, I’d offer brotherly advice: Give ESPN a fight.

Right now, Fox’s sports channels look like twerps against ESPN’s muscle.

It’s an embarrassing mismatch. In the blue corner: Fox Sports Net’s lightweight graphics, jingles and broadcasters. In the red corner: ESPN’s slick logos, tunes and talent.

The Fox picture looks even weaker when its Fox Sports Net2 takes on ESPN2 and ESPN Classic.

It’s a rout. Fox hardly puts up its dukes against ESPN’s barrage.

I’m speaking for America’s fans when I say: Enough. It’s time to rumble.

ESPN is simply too big for its britches. It needs a good, clean clocking to give sports TV a healthier look so we fans can twist the Fox News creed into good use: You Report, We Decide.

We have no decision these days. It’s all ESPN all the time: covering baseball, football, basketball, hockey, tennis, golf, soccer, boxing, bowling, cheerleading, darts, pool, poker. It could squeeze in bridge if it weren’t for motocross.

When it catches its breath, the network features historical athletes and games. And to make sure you know ESPN is everywhere, Chris Berman surfaces at every event from the Super Bowl to the Stanley Cup Finals to golf’s U.S. Open to the World Series.

We watch it all because ESPN does it better than anyone. It obviously spends a mint to make every presentation look and sound professional, Berman’s hideous comb-over notwithstanding.

Take a typical morning in the college football season. ESPN broadcasts Northwestern-Purdue, and ESPN2 has Utah-Air Force. Both football games look and sound like major events.

The options? Fox Sports Net has women’s college volleyball, Fox Sports Net2 some puff piece on Pac-10 women’s basketball. Both have the feel of a high school class project. It’s as if Fox threw in the towel: We can’t do it like ESPN, so let’s not even try.

Enough. Buck up, Fox. Get in shape and give ESPN the battle we fans want.

We want good old American competition, which always makes for better men and products.

McDonald’s has Burger King. Nike has Reebok.

Derek Jeter has Nomar Garciaparra. Donovan McNabb has Rush Limbaugh.

They’re all better because of the heat.

Without a race to be best, you get stagnation. Which is why you stand in line forever at the post office.

If Microsoft really had another firm breathing down on it, you’d see computers turn on as quickly as TVs. If Shaq had to face serious centers every game, he’d get in shape and whip the Lakers toward 70 wins.

It took Fox’s leap into the NFL in 1994 to spark changes in TV coverage. The network’s fresh thinking produced the constant score block in the corner of your screen. Later, TV came up with running scores from around the league and the yellow first-down line.

Remember the old days when you’d ask the guy watching the game what the score was? Without competition, CBS would still be keeping the score to itself until it went to a break.

ESPN looks like it’s doing everything new and improved. But without a lean and mean network across the street, ESPN can only get fat and happy — and easily dismiss changes that would help fans.

ESPN once faced a contender. CNN’s “Sports Tonight” had top talent in Fred Hickman, Nick Charles, Vince Cellini and Jim Huber and gave fans a fun alternative to ESPN’s “SportsCenter” in the ’80s and ’90s. But no longer.

A Fox jab at ESPN would jar the Disney baby into smarter decisions, such as get out of the pompous drama (“Playmakers”) business and replace college football color man Mike Gottfried with a live body.

Fox can do it. Its main network proves it can stand up to anyone in sports. Fox’s NFL pregame show is No. 1 because James Brown’s team is sharp and funny, Jillian Barberie gorgeous and the whole package electric. Fox’s World Series coverage clicked because of edgy graphics, fine camera work and the Joe Buck-Tim McCarver combo. Buck is the brightest announcer this side of Bob Costas. McCarver says something you never thought of every inning.

So what must Fox do to compete with ESPN every day?

Brother, do these and you’re off the ropes:

. Rename the sports channel Fox Too. The current loser, Fox Sports Net, is too cumbersome. What is that Net? Probably Network, but it could be a tennis Net for all we know. Fox Too is short and fun. So the franchise would involve Fox, Fox News Channel and Fox Too.

. Shift Fox News boss Roger Ailes to sports. He’s the George Steinbrenner of TV. A tough winner. Ailes made Fox News Channel exciting to watch. That’s why it miraculously decked CNN. Now have Ailes pull a Roone Arledge, who three decades ago masterminded ABC’s “Monday Night Football” and then turned ABC News into a heavyweight. If Ailes worked in the sports corner, Fox Too would come out swinging.

. Hire Suzy Kolber back from ESPN. And make her the face of Fox Too. She’s the quickest and most screen-friendly broadcaster at ESPN, yet way underused since they hired her away from Fox. That’s what happens when you have a monopoly. Steal her, jack up salaries, and the talent will flow Fox’s way.

. Fix the sets. Not to mention the aforementioned logos, graphics and music. Fox Sports Net’s “National Sports Report” died because it lacked in all those categories. Its follow-up shows look and sound just as sophomoric. This is an area Ailes would fix faster than a Roy Jones uppercut.

Get off the canvas, Fox. Honest TV sports competition — not to mention our name — depends on it.

OK, so Fox Sports 1 hasn't corralled Kolber. Yet. It does feature Erin Andrews, the knockout of Pac Man proportions. The photo above clinches it.

Uh, we can live with that.

Good for you, Fox.

Bucky Fox is an author and editor in Southern California.

Saturday, July 20, 2013

Infatuated With TV's 'Loving Leah'

The old Catskills comedian Milt Kamen had a routine about Western movies. He loved them. You could kick back, relax. The good guy was killing the bad guy. End of story. 

In particular, Kamen applauded "Gunfight at the O.K. Corral": "I saw it before, but that's why I went. Because a lot of times I want to know what's coming. I don't want any strain, nothin'. I just want to sit, you know. Because the world is changing all around us, and at least that stays steady." 

Exactly my sentiments with Hallmark Channel. Its movies are as predictable as a first-date rejection. And I devour them.

No torture. No treachery. No complications. Just a kiss at the end with understood married bliss forever.

You can take the terror of "A Clockwork Orange" and repugnance of "Pulp Fiction."

Give me "The Magic of Ordinary Days" and "Loving Leah."

Both are Hallmark landmarks living off the channel's formula: Man and woman hook up, don't realize how great they have it, then wake up in time for happily ever after. 

Hey, I'm 58.  I don't need a heart attack. 

So I watch these two favorites ad infinitum.

I'm so into "The Magic of Ordinary Days," I get a kick out of the little country tune when Keri Russell's Livy character drives off with her antique find.

I'm so hooked on "Loving Leah," I can't get enough of the kitchen kissing, the hottest scene of all time. 

And here I am laughing at my sister Pam for once watching "Leave It to Beaver" reruns on a loop. And my wife, Maria, for focusing on The Filipino Channel. At least they catch variety. I'm on a broken record. And reveling in it. 

Hallmark's "The Magic of Ordinary Days" is tops enough — yet just below the book.  The show made me check out Ann Creel's novel, and it's a doozy. It packs American, Colorado, European and WWII history alongside real people issues and the forced-marriage-yields-to-ardor theme into a wonderfully written book. The metaphors alone are worth turning the page. Seriously, Kreel's work left me with one adjective: jealous. You can only look up at her talent. 

Then there's "Loving Leah."

If I watch it anymore, it'll pass "Dr. No" on my DVR replay run. To say I'm addicted makes a mockery of monthly pancakes. I watch "Loving Leah" once a week. And can't recall what life was like before the flick filled our living room flat screen in late June.

It's so bad, I'm consumed by Jeff Beal's music setting up scenes. His effort landed an Emmy for a reason. The melodies capture each moment — the memorial, the comedy, the sorrow, the romance — with perfect pitch. I'm not sure whether he used a clarinet to transition to the Jewish burial near the opening, and I asked him about that on Facebook, but the tone is spot on. 

That alone reflects my obsession with "Loving Leah." How many nonmusical comedies leave their melodic impression on you? None. With me, I'm into the "Lawrence of Arabia" score, but figured that was it. Until now.  

"Loving Leah" came out years before I became aware of it. Its first TV showing was in January 2009. Where have I been? Watching the Lakers, Jets, Mets, Mizzou, Bond. Really just got fixated on Hallmark this year. Comes with age. 

Besides Beal's music, what's the hook of "Loving Leah"?

The cast. Lauren Ambrose (the "Six Feet Under" redhead) should've landed an Emmy for her kissing approaches alone. If chicks did that all the time, dudes would never get out the door. Ambrose's facial expressions also spark, but what really flashes is her overall look. Her Leah starts as a dowdy widow and ends as a pillar of sophisticated beauty. Adam Kaufman, as her beau Jake, comes through with funny faces and lines. Also on target are Susie Essman (the Larry David screamer) as Leah's Jewish-to-the-hilt mama, Mercedes Ruehl as Jake's joyous mom, Natasha Lyonne as Leah's cool sister and Ricki Lake as the equally guy-named Rabbi Gerry. 

The religion. When "Loving Leah" isn't maneuvering through its title, it's spotlighting Jewish life. My dad was a Jew, but he knew more about Army helmets than yarmulkes. We kids grew up Protestant under our mom's tutelage. Now I'm back in the Catholic fold that Mom's way-back-when Italian relatives no doubt practiced. Part of me wonders what it would've been like to take the Jewish path of my cousins Rusty, Ronnie, Stephie and Ira. 

"Loving Leah," thanks to P'nenah Goldstein's brilliant script, spells out the Jewish culture that so many of us don't know. She has Leah and her sister uttering vayzmeer, Yiddish for oh, brother. The playwright also shares the observant and shrugging Jewish sides, with Leah and Jake landing in the middle. When Goldstein is done, she's left a gold stone of a treasure. 

I could go on a few more paragraphs. I know this flick by heart. But you don't want the plot ruined. The only thing left to add is a note to Goldstein and the penetrating producer Michael Besman: Please make a sequel. And call it "Lasting Leah."

Bucky Fox is an author and editor in Southern California.

Saturday, June 15, 2013

Pete Rose Still Swings

Pete Rose hits.

Thirty-five years after he gave Joe DiMaggio's streak a serious run, the Hit King contends 56 is reachable.

Twenty-seven years after he smacked his last hit — the record 4,256th — Rose adds up his production against the greatest pitchers.

Thirty-seven years after sparking Cincinnati to its dynastic sweep of the Yankees, Charlie Hustle calls those Reds tops in entertainment.

Pete is plugged in, period. He might be 72. He might be three decades removed from capturing three world titles, three batting crowns, 17 All-Star honors, a National League MVP trophy and a World Series MVP award. But he's still the Hit King.

He still has it. It's something that draws fans to Mandalay Bay's sports memorabilia shop in Las Vegas. Two of those Pete partisans are Tommy Tutt and I — a couple of bald buddies having a ball recently with their idol.

Here's how deeply Rose affected my teen years. As he closed in on 1,500 hits in 1970, I kept a daily total on acetate on my bedroom wall. Talk about obsessed.

Seven years later, as the Reds reigned as world champs, Rose spent generous minutes talking to a cub reporter  — me   in their clubhouse at Houston's Astrodome. I was spellbound. 

Now here we were, Tutt and Fox, pitching questions to the Hit King:

The streak. Since your 44 straight in 1978, no one has come as close to DiMaggio's 56. Kostya Kennedy devoted a book to it — "56: Joe DiMaggio and the Last Magic Number in Sports." Is it truly the record no one will break?

Rose: "It's not untouchable. Here are two records that no one will break: Cy Young's 511 wins and Johnny Vander Meer's two straight no-hitters. I mean, you'd have to throw three straight to break that. Forget it.

"But 56 straight? You'd need a little bit of luck for two months, but it could be done. Guys like Ichiro (Suzuki of the Yankees) and (the Angels' Mike) Trout could do it. Then there's (Detroit's Miguel) Cabrera, who had the Triple Crown last year. You saying he can't do that? I had seven streaks of 20 or more, so I know."

Hits: Who were the toughest pitchers to figure out?

Rose: "The greatest pitcher I ever faced was Sandy Koufax. A guy recently texted me my stats against the top pitchers. I had 64 hits against Phil Niekro. Those were my most against one guy. I hit .308 against Bob Gibson. Here are my other stats: 60 for 177 against Don Sutton, 42 for 142 against Tom Seaver, 42 for 138 against Gaylord Perry, 42 for 123 against Juan Marichal, 17 for 32 against Warren Spahn."

The Big Red Machine: Owning the coolest nickname of any monster team since Murderers' Row, the Reds of Rose, Johnny Bench, Joe Morgan and Tony Perez reamed rivals in the mid-1970s. How do you rank them among all-time teams?

Rose: "I don't want to rank us. But we were definitely the most entertaining team in history. Just take this point: We were the only team with a white Hall of Famer in Bench, a black Hall of Famer in Morgan, a Latino Hall of Famer in Perez and a Hall of Fame manager in Sparky Anderson.

"Sparky was the best, and I played for 12 managers. Sparky was the best, but I was the smartest because I played for myself."

That was during Rose's 1984-86 run as player-manager with the Reds. He lasted four more years as their skipper before Major League Baseball bounced him for gambling.

That betting side sure doesn't bother Tommy and me, especially on this day living it up in Vegas.

We simply see Rose as a Hall of Famer, exactly what Kennedy calls him in "56."

Bucky Fox is an author and editor in Southern California.

Saturday, December 1, 2012

Cheers For 49ers' Harbaugh; Jeers For Jets' Ryan, Steelers' Tomlin

Cheer: Jim Harbaugh. Not into his pomposity. But the coach of the San Francisco 49ers sure can make the tough call. He could easily have stuck with Alex Smith. The quarterback shot the Niners so close to an NFL title last season. And had them rushing to one this fall. Yet Harbaugh benched him in favor of Colin Kaepernick. Hard enough to spell the Dutch name. But to spell a former No. 1 draft choice and leave your prospects to a near rookie? Takes balls. Footballs. Also takes brains. Harbaugh is right. The Flying Dutchman is exactly what Frisco needs to zip past the Giants, Falcons and Pats to the championship. Will be the Niners’ first since the 1994 season. All because the coach went callin’ on Colin.

Jeer: Coaches who lack the Harbaugh backbone. Namely Rex Ryan, who wrecks the Jets. And Mike Tomlin, who’s been out of it with the Steelers. Ryan sticks with Mark Sanchez. That’s the safe nonmove. Sanchez shot Ryan to two straight conference title games, so the coach sticks with him at quarterback. While the Jets dive toward the Hudson. Would take Ryan’s considerable gut to eject Off The Mark and put Tim Tebow in the pilot’s seat. Rex evidently listens to Tebow naysayers wallowing in his style rather than his stellar record and feels frozen. Ryan simply can’t shift. Until he’s pushed out the door at season’s end.

As for Tomlin, he sees Ben Roethlisberger go down and shoehorns in Charlie Batch. This was the safe decision. Batch had won a few for Pittsburgh. But he’s old. Played in Detroit so long ago, probably replaced Bobby Lane. Harbaugh would’ve pulled the trigger with Brian Hoyer, the young gun who backed up Tom Brady in New England the past three years. Better yet, he’s the son of Ed Hoyer, a buddy of mine from our Heidelberg High School days in the 1970s. Tomlin is no Harbaugh. Went with Batch. And lost against lowly Cleveland. Time for some Steel in that back, Mike.

Cheer: The Knicks. This is my old flame, back when they lit up in the NBA in the early 1970s. They even kept me warm during a Boy Scout camporee in Germany while winning their first world trophy. Because of the time difference, I stayed up till dawn in my pup tent yelling for Clyde Frazier and Dick Barnett to beat the Lakers. Ultimately they did, in seven games. Now they’re back, in the thick of NBA Eastern Conference contention.

Jeer: The Knicks. For letting Jeremy Lin go. His exciting brand of basketball was THE reason I watched New York do in Dallas last season. These days the guard plays in Houston. The NBA had a sweet star in the Big Apple. Now he’s gone to Texas, as the old book title went. David Stern, the commish whose name means Star, should’ve shone during the summer and kept Lin in Madison Square Garden. As it is, Lin’s a Rocket man lost on the regular fan. 

Cheer: The Mets’ cap logo. The same NY design as that of baseball's old New York Giants. Now if only my team could win like today’s Giants, who wear their orange and black in San Francisco while reigning as champions for the second time in three years. The Mets stole half the Giant hue, orange, and half that of the Dodgers, blue, when they filled New York’s National League void in 1962. Yet the Mets couldn’t duplicate the winning of the Giants and Dodgers, who after moving to the West Coast tied atop the NL 50 years ago. The Mets still can’t keep pace, finishing 24 games out of first this year. At least they look good with their hat, which I loyally wear every day.

Jeer: Altered uniforms in the National Football League. Especially the Steeler ones. You catch the striped, prison garb of a few weeks ago? More asinine than the pink shoes every team wears in October. Bring back Johnny Unitas, black hightops, horseshoe on the helmet, done. Thing of beauty.

Cheer: Fight songs that nobody knows, namely those of the Universities of Illinois and Maryland.

Jeer: Pedestrian college tunes that run ad nauseam only because Texas and Southern Cal win on the football field.  

Cheer: TV theme songs that rock. Particularly for the NFL on Fox, college basketball on ESPN, pro hoops on ABC. Too bad the NBA left NBC, home of the hoppingest number of all time.

Jeer: The CBS ditty for pro football. Doesn't have it.

Cheer: Johnny Football. The coolest nickname in sports since White Shoes for old Houston Oiler receiver Billy Johnson. As for this Texas A&M quarterback, this is all anyone calls Johnny Manziel, especially since he pronounces his surname all wrong: Manzell. This week when college football passes America’s top trophy his way, he can go by Johnny Heisman.

Jeer: Fake names. They’re Ron Artest and Chad Johnson. Cut the clown tags. Metta What? Cinco Who? Play ball, not gall.

Bucky Fox is an author and editor in Southern California.

Saturday, June 30, 2012

America Sprints With Walker On ObamaTax And Spending

Walker, Wisconsin Ranger. 

America's hero rides with the win.

First he hangs up on lefty's recall.

Now he's telling ObamaTax (a cool tag originated by whiz Jessica Chasmar) to stick it after the Supreme Court took the Marxist medical pill.

No way his state is going to sick bay as the Dems throw up the biggest levy in history.

Scott Walker knows the right way. The governor galloped against union robbery, and the country rallied behind his alarm.

Now the jig's up. Citizens know exactly where their taxes go — to government pensions — and are starting to stop this nauseous spending. 

Natch, this sanity appeals only to conservatives. 

Liberals hate it. Spending for them is like a cruise buffet. Constant gorging. Try to stop it, and a big, fat riot ensues. 

Hence the Wisconsin eruption when Walker said: Government  employees should contribute some to their retirement.

In other words: Enow felicity.

For that radical proposition, the goons for greed went ment.

And did what they're expert at — shovel millions down a rat hole — while trying to fire the governor.

So what's lefty left with? Ad hominem, no doubt. Walker is an idiot. Righty is on a union witch hunt (we can only wish). Romney's army is deaf to the common man.

It's all SOP — standard operating procedure.

Liberals are nothing if not masochistic. Even pinkos at private firms vote to pay higher taxes so gov types can haul in $150,000 a year in salary and benefits.

Other liberal laughers:

1. Liberals hate themselves so much, they don't want to call themselves that. They prefer progressives, even with regressive ideas.

2. They're not pro abortion. They're pro choice, but God forbid if your choice is to cut gov funding for Planned Parentless.

3. They don't call 'em bisexual. Their term is transgender.

4. It's not spending. It's investing.

5. Terrorists? Never. They're militants.

6. The Muslim massacre of 9/11? Hardly. 'Twas a nondenominational event.

7.  American exceptionalism? Too embarrassing to express.

8. Don't dare say Indians. They're Native Americans, as opposed to every other American born here.

9. They love to say give back, as if society provided those riches in the first place. News:  Philanthropists don't give back. They give.

10. They don't blame Obummer's socialism for FDR Depression II. With them, the buck stops at Bush.

They're here all week. 

Bucky Fox is an author and editor in Southern California.