Halloween Greetings: What would the season be without a hearty bushel o’ Devil’s Night wishes to White Sox outfielder Albert Belle? In case you don’t remember, Albert was visiting his father last Halloween when some local trick-or-treaters rang the Belle family doorbell. Ignorance and rudeness apparently being hereditary, the senior Belle told the revelers to take a hike, to which they responded by egging his home. The brave and athletic Albert jumped in his vehicle and ran the children down, mildly thumping one of them with his car, for which he had to pay later, thanks to the kid’s family lawyer from Lawgena. See, kids? You CAN get rich by trick-or-treating, you just have to choose the right neighborhood. Happy Halloween, Albert!
Tonya update: Miss Harding recently moved into the same Portland suburb as yours truly, and promptly got her fancy Ford pickup stolen while parked out at the mall. Tonya claims to have set the alarm, locked the doors, and had the only key to the truck on her person. As one of the locals pointed out, “Tonya going to Vancouver Mall by herself? I don’t think so.” Maybe the thieves around here are getting more clever all the time, but this was the same pickup in which she claimed to have been kidnapped a few months back, foiling her pursuer by crashing the truck into a tree in a wooded area and escaping on foot, then not telling the police about it until the next day. The local papers kindly pointed out that if Tonya had just gotten drunk and smashed her pickup into a tree on her own, and didn’t want to see her name plastered all over the tabloids (“Drunken Tonya Smashes Ford After Swerving To Avoid Elvis”), she might be compelled to make up a story about being kidnapped. The kidnapper, a shaggy-haired stranger (perhaps the same one who shot Elizabeth Diane Downs’ kids?), was never found. Surprise!
The New World (Series) Order: Two of baseball’s best teams during the regular season are oddly absent from this season’s fall classic, and many of us couldn’t be happier: The Atlanta Braves, with their perennially annoying Tomahawk Chop and U.N.-groupie owner (who sits one foot away from Jane for every year he’s been married to her), were vanquished by an upstart team from even further south. And the Baltimore Orioles, whom inexplicably play John Denver’s “Thank God I’m A Country Boy” during the seventh-inning stretch (Christ, that is enough to ruin an entire World Series for me), were eliminated by, as the PC idiots at the Portland Oregonian call them, the Cleveland Baseball Team, striking a blow for those of us not currently caught up in the heavy-sympathy-for-a-bugfaced-singer trend. Hurrah!
Errata: As senile office-holder Ronald Reagan once said, “Facts are stupid things.” However, facts are important because they are true, as opposed to lies, which aren’t. And with facts like these, why bother making anything up? And so, a little correction from last month’s column, in which I described Cliff Robinson and a gang of fellow goons getting arrested for driving around Portland and scaring people by aiming paint guns at them from a Suburban. Well, only a pack of genuine morons would do this sort of thing from a showy monstrosity like a Chevy Suburban. As a colleague of mine reminded me, they were in Cliff’s AM General HumveeNumber of View :1807