slip•stream n. The area of reduced pressure or forward suction produced by and immediately behind a fast-moving object
as it moves through air or water.

intr.v. slip•streamed, slip•stream•ing, slip•streams. To drive or cycle in the slipstream of a vehicle ahead.

Forward suction.  That’s what I am after here.
November 30, 2005                                    RUNAWAY JURY DOODY









I've been reading about the Governor of Cal-eee-fonya considering clemency for Stanley "Tookie" Williams.  Founder of the Crips
gang.  Stan is in the big house having been convicted of four of the many murders he has committed during his lifetime.  But since
he has been writing children's books while in the slammer and telling kids not to do drugs or join gangs, the popular notion in
Cal-eee-fonya is that Stan should be allowed to live out his life and not be executed as planned.  Supporters recently claimed to be
working on a Nobel Peace Prize nomination for Stan.  Not kidding.  Do you suppose if the prosecution had proven five murders by
Stan, the Nobel people would have drawn the line and declared Stan ineligible for a Nobel Peace Prize?  Is four acceptable but five
just one too many?  

Be ballsy, Nobel.  It should have absolutely nothing to do with Stan.  Make it clear that if anyone murders anyone, there is no way they
could win your award.  What a concept.

Then comes the San Quentin prison officials who insist the Stan remains the same Crips cog in prison that he was while out of
prison.

I am just shocked.

This guy didn't get jailed for partying too much with Paris Hilton's posse.  He murdered four humans.  As for you, Arnold...think about
somebody important.  That means anybody but Stan.  Hey, I'm thrilled Stan turned his life around.  Wouldn't it have been great if he
had managed that before taking up residence on death row?  I know of at least four families who think so.  I suspect there are more.

Meanwhile, I got a jury duty notice...again.  I had postponed the latest one while I was in Colorado for so long this summer.  Now they
notified me again.  They added that I had to actually show up this time.  The notice said I had to wear shoes, no shorts and no tank
tops.  They must have been following me around.  I wrote a long letter to them about the hardship it would cause for me to have to
buy a real shirt to go over my wife beaters.  Bunny said I couldn't send it, but she grinned at it.  As we all know by now, that's all I'm
after.

Since living in Texas, I have now gone for jury duty seven times.  Seven times out of fifteen years.  Never on a jury, though.  Also never
once tried to get out of it.  I was impaneled on two occasions, questioned each time by a real, live attorney, and summarily rejected
as deficient in multiple ways.  With all their faults, which deserve mention in a Slipstream of their own, some attorneys are insightful
creatures.  

Each of the seven times, I have been treated to the speech about how great the system is in this USA and that the fact that we
showed up to do our duty for our country allowed many cases to be settled without going to trial.  The lawyers and defendants fear
the jury?  They should.   Hang 'em high, baby.

I was once impaneled for questioning when many uniformed police came into the courtroom and spoke to the judge.  He
immediately dismissed us all and encouraged us to leave the building soon.  It was the morning that Timothy McVeigh detonated
the truck bomb that blew up the Murrah Building in Oklahoma City.  The authorities feared a plan was in place to attack other
government buildings so they evacuated us quickly.

Two years ago I was impaneled with about a hundred other people and then ushered into the courtroom for grilling.  It was kind of
exciting to get to finally be part of the process.  The judge explained that this was a "slip and fall" case.  He explained that the
complainant's claims included negligence on the part of the defendant, who was a store owner.  The judge then asked all to raise
their hands if they encountered attorneys in the course of their everyday lives.  About one third of us raised their hands.  Then we
were asked to keep our hands up if those encounters of attorneys in our everyday lives might cause us to have a prejudice against
attorneys in general.  

Every single panel member lowered their hand...uh, except me, of course.  It is always dubious when a known smart-ass claims he
wasn't being a smart-ass.  Honest, I just zoned out.  I didn't mean anything.

The judge asked me to stand.  As I complied I got the stomach butterflies, realizing I was the only one.  Coincidentally, I was the only
one who knew that I hadn't really intended to leave my hand up.

He asked me, Juror number 69, "Will your prejudices against attorneys follow you into this courtroom and apply specifically to the
attorneys up here in the front of the courtroom who will be presenting this case?"  

The attorneys all bored holes into me with their best laser eyes.  

"Would those prejudices against attorneys keep you from being able to make objective judgments about the evidence in this case?"

Smoke began rising from my forehead.  

"Would your prejudices against attorneys be held against these attorneys, specifically?"  

All eyes turned to me when the judge finished his series of questions which amounted to the same question stated three different
ways.  Sure, I noticed.  I had been actually listening to him, for a change.

I looked over the dark suited FBI looking stereotypes up front and honestly replied to the judge, "No sir, at least not any more than any
other attorneys."

Absolutely killed.

Wasn't even trying.

After the laughing died down, I was dismissed.


        email me at eric@ericluck.net
November 25, 2005               GIVE THANKS FOR WRASSLIN'


   Today’s recitation is for my brother.


This photo is of Maurice “Mad Dog” Vachon and is vintage 1965.      


                   Happy Thanksgiving.  



Today I am thankful for my wife, our son, our families, friends and our wonderful lives.  
Way, way down a very long list of things I am thankful for, we come upon Paul “The Butcher” and Maurice “Mad Dog” Vachon.  
I am not kidding. They were the ‘Oakland Raiders’ of wrestling, except these guys were actually likeable.  Sorta.

When my brother and I were young kids, we would occasionally flip the TV between the three channels that were available to
the public.  Black and white only, no color yet.  Mr. Rogers had not yet even thought to put on his cardigan sweater.  We might
land on Icky Twerp and Slam Bang Theatre, Abbott & Costello, the 3 Stooges or the early 1960s version of All-Star Wrestling.  
Even so young, we knew there was more theater than wrestling going on.  It wasn’t fake.  It was just…theatrical.  Ahhh...our
first cultural theater experience.  Mom would be proud.  

There was often real anger involved in TV wrasslin', among other emotions.  You must have some actual emotion to clobber
somebody over the head with a metal folding chair.  Nobody held back if it got to that point.  Sometimes participants bled.  It
didn’t show up red on the TV.  Blood was dark gray.  We loved it.

In the falsely apparent sanity of Beaver-Cleaver suburbia USA, it was unfathomable that these personalities could possibly
be that insane.  When we got to acting too much like them, Mom put the kibosh on it.  Sometimes we were already bleeding
by the time she got to us.  Don’t listen to Kirk’s pleas about mental anguish heaped upon him by his big brother.  His
nuttiness definitely has other sources.  No permanent damage was done.  Both Kirk and I have great memories of it all.

Here are some of the wrasslin’ participants of our youth:  
The World Champion - Verne Gagne, The Crusher (whose real name was Stan Lisowski and I guarantee you that Kirk did
not know that), The Bruiser, Fritz von Eric, Nick Bockwinkle, Larry “The Axe” Henning, Cowboy Bill Watts, Blackjack Lanza,
Red Bastien, Andre the Giant, Man Mountain Mike, Baron von Raschke (who would put “the claw” on you), The Iron Sheik,
Edouard Carpentier - "the Flying Frenchman" and Jesse “The Body” Ventura (yep, that one).  We always knew he would be
Governor someday…not.  I promise that Kirk could add to this list with his memories.

Besides these most excellent reminiscences, here is the most funnest part - both Mad Dog and the Butcher are still alive.  

How awesome is the www that we can find such stuff so vital to our daily lives?  

Mad Dog was born in 1929 making him two years younger than our dad.   Today Mad Dog is 76 years old and he lives in
Nebraska.  I swear they always told us in the introductions that the brothers lived in French Albania.  Kinda like Nebraska?  

Kirk and I would have bet our entire combined fortunes that our dad would have outlived Mad Dog Vachon.  It is precisely that
kind of savvy bet that got us in the positions we are in today.

Mad Dog last wrestled in 1986 (he would have been 57 years old).  In 1987, he was struck by a drunk driver in Iowa after Dog
had been jogging and it resulted in him having his right leg amputated.  He speaks painfully of those difficult times, but in
1996 he enjoyed it to his advantage.  While attending a WWF match between Diesel and Shawn Michaels in Omaha, Mad
Dog was attacked during the match, ringside, by Diesel.  Diesel took Mad Dog’s prosthesis leg and began swinging the leg
at Mad Dog.  Michaels took the leg from Diesel, knocked Diesel over with it and pinned him to win the match.  He raised Mad
Dog’s arm in the victory.  Yes, it was promoted by Vince McMahon.  How did you guess?  I would love to see the film of this.

Mad Dog has always lived up to his nickname.  It is a nickname I always admired.  In the mid-1970s, I awarded it to my
mother-in-law, “Mad Dog” Marie Dunn.  Now you know where I got it.  She wore it well and proudly.

Happy Thanksgiving, bro.  Wish you were here.


email me at eric@ericluck.net
November 21, 2005                                                             Sweet Ride in Paradise


Right off the bat I must tell you that I have witnesses.
   
My friends and I met Mohammed at Cyril King Airport on the island of St. Thomas, U.S.V.I.  
A nice young man of about twenty, his dead-fish handshake did little to foreshadow his
driving ability in pace and energy.  Mohammed drives a car for a living and he is
available for hire.  We had gotten a ride from Mohammed on a previous trip to the
island just four months ago.

First off, Mohammed is a marketing genius.  His spanking new business cards now say his
name is “Mike”.  He says nothing about his reasoning for printing new cards with a new
name.  We asked him.  He just shrugged.  In fact, neither Mohammed nor Mike have
much to say at all about anything.  We surmised that he ferries many American visitors around St. Thomas.  To some Americans,
Mohammed might be a less benign name than Mike.  Maybe that was reflected in his tips.  Genius.

The air conditioning in Mike’s 1986 Chevy Astro minivan had been repaired since our last trip to St. Thomas.  Since the air was now
fixed, we chose not to test the window.   Last trip, when Mohammed drove us, the passenger window could not be rolled down or else
it would stay down for untold months into the future.  Mohammed said so.  No air conditioning and not being able to lower the window
was a problem.  It is very…tropical…in U.S.V.I.

It was 4:22 p.m. as we were loading into Mike’s van.  The A.C. was on full blast.  Mike seemed proud that it could be on full blast.  It
stayed that way the whole 45 minutes.  From the airport across the island to Red Hook is about a forty five minute drive if you hurry and
if there is very little traffic.  That never happens.  It was the beginning of rush hour.  Rush hour wouldn’t be so tough if the roads were
wider than eight feet.  To add to the confusion to us Americans, U.S.V.I. drivers are bound by law to drive on the left side of the road.  
Mentally, I find the adjustment impossible.  Hence, we need Mike.

As for the van itself - high miles, not cherry, not a cream puff, but A.C. works good, this time.  The A.C. is working so well that you can’t
hear the van’s perpetual rattles as we drive.  To open the sliding passenger door, one must hold the door handle with just the
appropriate degree of pressure to get it to actually open.  The seats are vinyl and clean as tourist’s cloth covered butts have slid
across them constantly since about 1987.  The carpets are scary bad.  Just don’t look.

It is immediately evident that Mike has installed new electronic gadgetry since our last trip.  On the dashboard of the van, within
reaching distance and viewing angle of the driver is a new APEX DVD player with a full six inch screen.  It has been fastened with
sticky-backed Velcro directly to the dash.  The tiny screen is tilted towards Mike so he can enjoy the movie along with his passengers
while he is driving.  

Rather than vacuum the van’s carpet since our last trip, Mike devoted his free hours to installing surroundsound speakers for the mini
DVD player.  If going all the way to Red Hook, passengers can now enjoy a full 45 minutes of any film in Mohammed’s, er, uh, Mike’s
DVD library.  

Mike chooses which film and the sound level.  

Today’s feature is the classic motion picture entitled “White Chicks”.  Today’s sound level would stun cattle as we pass them by, even
with all our windows up.

I now know that this film features a full dose of fart jokes and the hilarity of teenage black guys dressing up as white girls.  Of course,
there is nothing funnier than a black guy dressed as a white girl who really needs to take a dump.  That, my friends, is compelling
entertainment.  

The ferry boat from St. Thomas to St. John leaves Red Hook at 5:00 p.m.  It will be close.  If we miss it, we have to wait an hour for the
next one.  We all know this.  Mike knows this.  Mike’s knowledge of that fact was not reflected in his manner until he finally slipped the
van into “Drive”.

So, Mike has three things on which to focus for the next forty minutes:  

1. Get to Red Hook so we make the 5:00 p.m. ferry.  Preferably alive.
2. Watch “White Chicks”.
3. Acknowledge all other U.S.V.I. natives with some greeting.

Into your awareness I must add that most natives of U.S.V.I. act as if they know all the other natives.  This requires constant
acknowledgement of each other.  That communication can run the gamut from obvious and demonstrative to subtle and nearly
unnoticeable.  These type actions are perpetual as you cross the island.  This is important only so you know that Mike is busy
acknowledging his fellow natives as he watches the movie and sails through residential neighborhoods and alleys at about 40 mph.  
The main streets are choked with rush hour traffic volume.  I swear we drove through a couple of living rooms.  But they all nodded at
Mike as we sailed by.

Most of the roads on St. Thomas will prevent you from going very fast simply by virtue of their construction.  They are really curvy and
really narrow.  They all have potholes.  Deep ones.  There are many roads where the speed limit is posted as “10 mph”.  Those signs
don’t tell you that suspension damage is certain if you exceed that speed.

If you ever saw "The Dukes of Hazzard," you know that Bo and Duke occasionally went airborne in the very orange car dubbed the
General Lee.  

I’d like to see them do it in an ’86 Astro minivan, baby.  You da man, Mike.

Mike performed this maneuver at the precise moment we passed a sign that I read in a blur to say “Speed Limit 10”.  While we were
in the air, I swear, Mike’s cell phone rang.  The tune was the theme from the movie “48 Hours” with Eddie Murphy as Axel Foley.  After
we left the earth, but before touchdown, Mike picked up his cell phone, flipped it open and said “hello”.  

Flippin’ sweet.

We screeched to a halt on the gravel in front of the Red Hook dock at 4:59 p.m.  Just like we were in our own movie, we piled down the
dock as the big ferry boat blew its air horn signaling an ‘all-aboard’.  I swear we could hear Mike laughing at “White Chicks” as we ran
for the boat.  We were laughing too, but not at the movie.

I hope by next trip Mike has named the van, like those Dukes of Hazzard guys did.  Or maybe he could just run the vacuum on a once
through.


email me at eric@ericluck.net
November 17, 2005                                PORN, BRAD, ANGELINA & NAKED KITTIES













I' ve been reading about the www.  Forget your Ambien.  This is better.

For a website to get "hits" is a good.  That is some unexplainable measure of a website's success.  If somebody clicks on your site,
that is a "hit".  There are other measures of website success;  Page views, visitors, time spent per visitor, pages viewed per visitor,
and by now I have tired-head so you probably do too.  

As some of you know, I feel manipulated from time to time by the absurd porn-mongers who proliferate on the www with spamming
email and offensive websites.  Sometimes it gets to feeling like the www is just a giant porn playground.  It won't change.

Search engines like Yahoo, Google, etc. may or may not be directed to your website, depending on variables that mere mortals could
not possibly comprehend.  But there are triggers to the search engines called "keywords".  Keywords can be offered by the website
owners as stand-alone words or in combinations.  The significance of either escapes my feeble mind.  But search engines do not
care as long as the words appear in the content of the website.  If you have porn-world words in the content of your website, well,
suffice to say that many, many searches on the search engines of the www are prompted by keywords involving porn.

Now you know as much as I do.  Here is my plan.

We need to use the system to our advantage.  We got to get us some colorful content.  Pander, pander, pander is our new motto.

There is not now and never will be porn on this site.  Disappointed as many of you may be, that arena will have to be managed by the
next eric luck.  I simply have no interest.  Rude, crude and semi-nude...I can handle.  Some of it...I encourage.  However, there is no
reason I can find not to attempt to direct porn-searching traffic to ericluck.net on the www.  At least it will drive up hits.  And that is
what matters on the www and in baseball - get some hits.  

So, the staff at ericluck.net has organized a new set of "keywords" to better facilitate the search engines' ability to find us.  Our never-
ending ambition for success on the www knows no bounds.  The plan is to trick all www and search engine participants into thinking
that what we have here at ericluck.net is a juicy spot on the www that will satisfy all your www wants and desires.  We really don't care
how long the porn searchers stay here, we only have to trick them into clicking on us.  There would be some warped justice if
nastiness seeking teens clicked on this site for some rudeness, huh?  SAVVY!

What better measure of success in life could there possibly be than more hits?  So, here are our new keywords...happy searching:

Brad Pitt                                                Angelina Jolie                                Jennifer Aniston                                    big naked donkeys
butt fairies                                             horny antelope                             Alyssa Milano eats lunch                 teens drinking Starbucks
funny hair                                              giant cigarette butts                       naked kitties in a tub                                erotic gimme caps
shaving daily chafes                           big booby baby                           Geena Davis' best recipes                          snaggle legs
inflatable motorized butt massage   unopened panties package            toilet bowl repair                                        baby yellow chicks
trailer hook-ups                                    purple shorts overpass                big nose holders                                      baby bottle nipples
husky dungarees                          lingerie once worn by Olsen twins    horn dog corn dogs                       large pics of girls eating cake

That ought to just about do it.

Welcome to all new viewers of ericluck.net.  The four of us who have been here before are pleased to have you with us.

email me at eric@ericluck.net
November 12, 2005               NOTEBOOK UNLOAD:  www RANDOM BUT www FUN












I must report that I have heard from officials with the Coast Guard who would look favorably on a party stop on cross country flights.  
There are enormous entertainment possibilities when a sea/dye marker is deposited on a rooftop.  The theory is that after such a
direct hit, a Lexus will glow a permanent green when viewed through Night Vision goggles.  Thanks, Uncle Bob.

I have a new favorite letter to the editor of the Maui News and as you already know, it has serious competition.  It was published the
other day just before we left to return to Texas.  This time I found the link.  It is here.  Enjoy.

2005 Japanese Yo-Yo Champ here.  It is not porn!  Stop it.  That guy has never even had a date.  Guaranteed.

Being witness to genius is so rare, notwithstanding what Big Al wrote about me above.  Hugh Gallagher's college essay has become
urban legend.  Turns out maybe it is real.  I have it for you here.  It is fun to think so.

My niece, Missy is here.  She is a stud.  Besides volleyball, she studies nursing.

In the great novel "Semi Tough" by Dan Jenkins, there are references to the Itasca Wampus Cats and the Hutto Hippos.  Those high
school team names are real.  Hutto Hippos website is not working,  but the Itasca Wampus Cats are here (lost link). Texas seems
to have more than its fair share of unusual high school team names.  How about the Central Catholic Buttons of San Antonio.

Some particularly talented Japanese film makers put together this short flash film of two guys playing ping pong.  It is so clever that I
am just hoping the link works for you.  So great.  Check it out here.  It is quite incredible.  IT IS NOT PORN!

Time waste of the week - the Kitten Cannon (lost link).  It is not real.  And look.  I won't give you any porn.  Okay?  I don't have any
porn to give to you.

This one is real but really funny.  It is not mean.  These cats look happy.  Really.  It is "stuff on my cat.com" and it is here.

Finally, I have located the most annoying woman in the world and she is here.  Oh yes...she will be playing at Bunny's next birthday
party.

Our son is moving to another city right before Thanksgiving.  He will be back for Turkey Day.  We are happy for him and his
opportunity but very sad for ourselves. He's a stud too.  Eat 'em up, Evan.


email me at eric@ericluck.net
November 9, 2005                                            DRIVEWAY PAVED!!!







                                 Nice spot for that power pole. This is not a picture of my driveway.  







I sent this picture to my contractor when the driveway was finally paved this week in order to threaten him with a fake lawsuit.  Since
he has been with me on the great driveway lawsuit against us, every step of the way for the last three years, he laughed.  We all
laughed because it is so fun to finally have a driveway.  If you don’t get this, be glad.  Do a dance.  It was the only part of our house-
building experience that was bad, and it was a nightmare.

Bunny and I spent over two years and roughly a gajillion dollars building our house.  We wasted a bashillion and a half dollars and
umpteen cotillion hours on one of my neighbor’s legal protest of our driveway.  He doesn’t live there by the way, just owns an empty
lot adjacent to us and drives by occasionally.  So bitter.  I would never drive around looking for reasons to be pissed off.  Not me,
baby.  I am a lot nicer now.  This week on paving day was the most excited I have been since the end of finals week of my senior
year in college.  

That was the mid-1970s.

Everyone, except my legal-beagle lawsuit-filing neighbor, should come to our house and drive on the driveway.  Revel in its
asphaltiness.  Scrape some snow off it with me this winter.  I cannot wait to see my driveway.  I will be driving up and down my
driveway until someone files the next lawsuit against me.  Then I just might pave the whole acre so we can land a plane there.  

I don’t have a plane.  

Maybe I will let others land their planes there.  

More lawsuits?  I’m thinking we need a heliport.  Is there a Coast Guard Station in Colorado?  I have just the place to put one if there
are any more lawsuits.  They will need to land the biggest and most orange colored dual prop, wind blowin' noise makin' helicopters
they got.  It will look like a government forced evacuation to lower ground.  My cousin, Uncle Bob, drives those big orange
helicopters for the Coast Guard.  We could be a stopover on cross country flights.  Provide a little R&R for the Coast Guarders.  We
could rev up the rotors just to see if small animals could hold their positions. Party on the pavement.  If you think those pilots would
never really show up there, try suing me.

Maybe I’ll let the town school buses park there…every…single…day and night.  

Better yet, the entire ‘Waste Management’ fleet of trash trucks.  Before they go to the dump.            

My niece wants us to put a 'Sonic Drive-In' right next to our house and raise llamas to draw customers in.  That's the spirit.

Life sucks when you get sued even if you are right.  Life is good when you have a driveway.  You can’t go wrong when you are in
Maui and you get your driveway that is not in Maui paved on the same day.

In a follow up to my little narrative on Maui the other day, I read a great, old quote about Hawaii which was offered up by our former
Vice President, Dan Quayle.  Here we go:

                   "Hawaii is a unique state. It is a small state. It is a state that is by itself. It is a --it is different from
                     the other 49 states.  Well, all states are different, but it's got a particularly unique situation."

For four years he stood a G.H.W.Bush heartbeat away from leading the free world.  I think we might need a statue of that guy with a
lei around its neck.

This week I have been working on editing of my novel with the publisher.  Editing is not as much fun as writing.  That is all I have to
say on that at this time.  

But, I stumbled onto another quote that I take straight to my heart.  It comes to us from respected sage and quotemeister, Ivana
Trump, former bride of the Donald, on the occasion of finishing her first novel some years ago.  I will remember this always:

       "Fiction writing is great. You can make up almost anything."

That makes a lot of sense to me because I’ve got a driveway.  

So fun.  Luck out.


email me at eric@ericluck.net
November 5, 2005                                     NEW, IMPROVED & NICER












                                                               
                                                                                            The pretty one is my niece, Eva



My brother says I am too contrary.  Bunny jumped on the bandwagon and yelled her endorsement of that fairy tale in my only good ear.  
After initial resistance (my normal approach to everything), I told Bunny that I would try to be nicer to everyone.  

I think she bought it.

It is so very hard.

Without question, part of the price I pay for being a ‘some-nonsense’ kind of guy is the total lack of credibility I retain at the very
moment that I might mean real business.  I really did write a mystery/suspense story that is going to be published into a novel.  There
are parts of the book that I hope make you laugh, but it is not quite like this ridiculous journalized pile of hooey.  

I am being nicer.  Can you tell yet?

I read the New York Times.  I also read the Maui News.  Neither is the bastion of sophistication that one of them pretends to be.  Both
are pure entertainment, especially the Letters to the Editor.  These two splashes, er, cannonball splashes of liberalism can either
make you rise up with pride, sink straight to the bottom in a fit of agony or hold your side from laughing so hard...or at least giggle like
a six-year-old girl.  

If you can, choose that last one.

Maui politics are pretty much as you might expect from any resort and tourist based economy.  The spectrum of political ideology from
one extreme to the other is way, way wider than the general USA population and heavily weighted to the left.  Very heavily weighted.  
Sumo wrestler weighted.  Humpback on dry land weighted.

Let me add here that all you conservative-leaners should wipe that silly, smug smirk off your face.  I am able to find enormous
entertainment value in the extremes in both directions.  Do not, even for a minute, think you are immune from me making fun of you.  
As a matter of fact, count on it.  That ditto-head comedian, Rush Limbaugh, wishes he could entertain as much as these crazy-ass
triple-liberal Hawaiians.  

Yeah, I know I told Bunny I’d try to be nicer, but watch it.

Back to Maui.  It is strange that there is such an ‘Us vs. Them’ attitude anywhere here.  If you point out to Hawaiian natives that without
the tourists, it would truly be a grass hut economy, many would respond, “Good.  That’s what we had before you took it from us and
we want it back”.  Such a response can generate a higher tension level than what many seek for vacation fun.  Sensible Hawaiians
smile and pretend their bruddah didn’t say a thing.

Meanwhile, there are politicians in Hawaii with their wheels shooting off all over the place.  Many Hawaiian leaders are careening into
the ditch everywhere you look.  This week alone I have read in the Maui News about established, career Hawaiian politicians involved
in possible bribery, a conviction on theft of campaign funds, one groping conviction on an airplane to the mainland and a conviction
on some bad check passing.   Each of these cases involved a different Hawaiian politician.  That is just this week.  From the outside
looking in, it looks like a leadership vacuum.  (Interpretation:  It sucks.)

I read that the police force on the Big Island of Hawaii is short by seventy-five officers and they are unable to hire people.  I will
paraphrase for brevity, but the problem appears to be that many Hawaiians are related to so many of their extended families that they
refuse to arrest each other or be involved in any way with the reporting of other family members involved in illicit activities.  Hey, I watch
the TV show ‘First 48’ on the great A&E.  This is not a problem peculiar to Hawaii.  Most of those shows are from Detroit, Miami,
Dallas and Phoenix.  All investigators have issues when they seek help from the community on a case.  Maybe this is too big a leap,
but is it any wonder the Iraqis are struggling to police themselves?  We got the same troubles.  You just don’t hear about it because
we aren’t spending a billion dollars a week on it over here.  Besides that, if the stupid press doesn’t make it a story,  it isn’t a story.

How is it there are car theft rings on an island the size of Maui?  Where exactly do you re-sell the cars or the parts from the cars?  If
you are a car thief here, it looks to me like there is a good chance that you or your thieving associates end up stealing your cousin’s or
your aunt’s vehicle at some point.  Why isn’t that a problem for them?

Did you know there are more than just a few bank robberies here?  Where you gonna go with the money?  Why don’t bank robbers
and car thieves here believe they will be caught?  Drugs could explain it.  I don’t know much about illegal drugs, just blood pressure
reducers and acid blockers.  I am your www, Hawaiian and mainland expert on those.

Okay, let’s get back to the entertaining parts.

I am going to retype below, with headlines, verbatim, a couple of letters to the Editor of the Maui News, printed on Thursday,
November 3, 2005 and Friday, November 4, 2005.  I only do so because I cannot find a link to them on the evil www.  By the way, how
effective are computers when I can re-type these letters faster than I can find them on the www?  Stupid internet.  When I read the
headlines of these letters, there is no doubt in my mind that an editor at the paper wrote those parts, but you judge for yourself.

They are typed word for word including all misspellings and errant punctuation.  There is a sweetness to their illogical anger and
meandering that you just gotta hear.


Maui Needs Positive Action to Counteract Problems
  Maui is on a course of social destruction.  Drug use is one problem, crime is another.  Drug use is not a crime.  Drugs add to
crime.
  We see our crimes in The Maui News, incidents such as a maniac raping 80-year-old ladies.  OK, find him and then what?  
Drug dealers deal out of their rentals, and when the landlord wants them out, the landlord runs into provisions in the law that
prohibits getting the criminal out of the house.  Then what?
  Lacking manners – or morals – is another problem.  Many times I’ve run into young teens, and young adults cussing out some
poor aunty who is trying to make a minimum wage running a cash register at a convenience store.  Auwe!  Those kids need chili
pepper water dumped down their throats!  And when your 13-year-old daughter dresses like a Waikiki street hooker, don’t be
surprised if the pervert down the street with his beat-up van picks her up and does something you don’t want to happen.
  Most people believe in God and Jesus.  Well, maybe if some of you turn your lives to something more positive – I don’t care
what – at least your world and your home would be more conducive to living in harmony with everyone else.
  Good luck, Maui, I hope you aren’t a crime victim, or worse yet, have to go to a sensitivity training course on what not to say to
the newcomers.
                                                               Ron in Lahaina


There has got to be more to this story.  Maui News should send a reporter to every sensitivity training class in existence until we flush
out Ron & get the lowdown on why he has to attend.  They should check with me on this stuff.


Television advertisements a clue to nation’s decline
  For anyone wondering about where America is heading, I have some insight after being on this trip for almost 70 years.
  When television first came of age, the advertisements were aobut dog food, laundry detergent and a good Timex watch.
  Now, the TV ads are all about depression, hemorrhoid creams and a drug for just about everything.
  This is one ride we just can’t get off of so I guess I’ll enjoy the downhill slide America is on and pop a Zanex or two.
                    Jim in, Kihei


I did NOT make these up and I would party with Ron or Jim, baby.

Writing such letters is part of the fantastic culture here.  The Hawaiians are passionate and engaged people.  Right or wrong, they are
fun.  I promise we could find similar stuff in Texas and Colorado, but right now, we are here.  It is good.

I also will mention in passing that pictures such as what I took on Halloween are of events that your high school age kids could tell
you about in your own neighborhood, wherever you are right now.  The nearly naked teens may not be as tan as those here, but they
dress and act and partake the same.  

I think I was pretty nice.

email me at eric@ericluck.net
November 2, 2005                                                                                 COSTUME FRENZY


That there is not actually a Halloween costume.  That is a posed photo of how a guy tried to smuggle
himself into the US of A at the border of Mexico disguised as a minivan captain's seat.  But it kinda sets
the old Halloween costume brain gears in motion, don't it?  There is a perfect example of real life being
way, way better than the www.  That oat-brain really thought he was gonna slide by?  So great.

Lahaina was in it's usual form.  Kids parade at 4:30.  So awesome.  I could go home after that a happy guy.


























Then the lame-brained "adults" take over for the rest of the evening.  They render me speechless...a good thing for you.  My son's ex-girlfriends were almost
all there, but only a few in costume.  Most were just in their underpants.

















Now, sorry for this narrative interruption to your viewing, but we are going to have to discuss this next shot of one of my son's future-girlfriends.  I am fairly
certain that she did not pull an Ed Norton and leave the house without her pants by accident.  If so, that means that she meant to not have any pants on.  Is
this a good plan?  No...I mean like, ever?  When he brings her home, I will do my best to welcome her to the family, but it will be darn difficult to keep from
snickerin'  about everybody having seen her bottom.

 

Jill - as you can see, the girls of Lahaina still have
some self-esteem issues to work out.  You have
some more work left to do here.







Mr. and Mrs. Claus had the evening off from making toys, but thoroughly embarrassed themselves
and everyone else.

Hopefully their own children came
soon after I shot this photo and
took them back to the home.  This
particular photo was even more
disgusting to me than the bajillion
peni-guy below.  

I know you are pleased that I shared.







                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         
We wrap this up with a glimpse of "favorites" from Halloweens past.  I took the photos previous to this, except for the
'across the border' guy.  Here's a few I only wish I could claim.  They are bad, but somehow, you can't look away:



                                                                                                                                           One would simply not be enough:
























email me at eric@ericluck.net











Took a break from vacationing on Friday to watch special counsel Fitzgerald’s press conference on the indictment of Scooter.  
What a straight arrow this guy appears to be.  Impressive guy.  Obstruction of justice?  Yikes.  But listen, anyone who dazzles a
room full of press is undoubtedly going to dazzle me.  I think, by and large, the press is thoroughly riddled with do-as-little-as-
possible, gossip-is-as-good-as-a-fact, get-as-much-face-time-on-camera, star-hopefuls-in-waiting who are full of their own
ambition.  I would fit right in.  If Fitz is correct, government suffers from some of the same problems.

I am just shocked.

You can’t go by me.  At the same stage of investigation, Ken Starr was impressive to me.  About $100 million later, we learned
that Ken learned that the President for sure had sexual contact with that woman, Ms. Lewinsky, in a side room of the oval office.  
Turns out it really did not depend on what your definition of “is” is.

It is frustrating when people empowered and trusted to do the people’s work spend even a scintilla of effort towards sinister
doings. Stinkin’ evil doers.  Is your job not fulfilling enough?  Is it not important enough?  Well, we haven’t heard from Scooter yet
except to say that Fitzy has it all wrong and that Scooter actually just "forgot".  And now we arrive at one of the flaws of the
system.  The chances are really, really good that we never will hear much from Scooter.  Looks to me like it is extra important to
some double-important people that Scooter gets out of this jam.  Fitz was pretty convincing that we have to let the process work,
however flawed the process may be.  

Maybe there are really are no honorable men left.  If there are, would they really want any job in journalism or politics?

I did not think it was possible, but I may have just become more cynical.

Could I be less impressed with members of the press.  Not a chance.  And my expectations of them are extra-double low.  It is
such a slimy business that I told my son as he graduated from high school that if he intended to pursue a career as a journalist or
any derivation or product thereof, I was out.  Ask him.  Now he’s a mondo www computer guy doing this stuff for people who pay
him to do it and has no time to help me figure out the www because I don't pay him.  I only gave him life.  People pay you to do this
crap?  Boy, there is a mystery.

Huh.  Well...I guess a www guy is better than journalist.  I'm not really too sure.

If I keep writing stuff here, am I a journalist?

And while we are on it, if my name was not “Scott” or “Scotty” and someone along my trail in life gave me the nickname “Scooter”, I
would tell no one and hope it died off quietly.  I told Bunny that I was going to start calling her “Scooter”.  It was an eye-roller for
her.  But most of my material is that.  I admit to calling her by a different nickname almost weekly, so she’s used to it.  Most
recently moved from “Yolanda” to “Zsa-Zsa”.   “Bunny” is just for here.  We got your www and we got real life.  Next up…”
Scooter”.  I try to stay timely.

Personally, I miss Bill Clinton.  He was fun.  And after all, isn’t that what the President is supposed to provide us?  Info-tainment?  I
could re-visit the sordid eight years we spent watching his antics, but let’s have a parade instead.  Oh, somebody already had
one.  With floats.  Look at this.  I guess I’m not the only one who misses him.















Politics, press and publishing.  These are the nastiest of arenas from my experience.  

Next up we turn to debauchery of another kind.  Should have some Halloween pictures from Lahaina, Maui.  Yep.  Third in line for
world HQ of lechery after Las Vegas, NV and Key West, FL.  But bless their hurricane ravaged hearts right now down there.  Stay
tuned.

email me at eric@ericluck.net
November 1, 2006                                               Indictment Extravaganza
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                                                                November 2005  -   In the Slipstream
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In the Slipstream
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DECEMBER 2005
Gnarly
Powder Days
The Gift Saga Continues
Chronicles of a Gift
Christmas Greetings from the
Lucks
Book Review: "Liquid Bones"
Wishing, Hoping, Begging for
Peace

NOVEMBER 2005
Runaway Jury Doody
Give Thanks for Wrasslin'
Sweet Ride in Paradise
Porn, Brad, Angelina & Naked
Kitties
Notebook Unload: Random but
www Fun
Driveway Paved
New, Improved & Nicer
Costume Frenzy
Indictment Extravaganza

OCTOBER 2005
Travails of Travels With Bunny
My www Welcome
Pass the Butter
Mick, Rhymes With Ick
World's Biggest Hot Dog
hypnotized & mesmerized
In the Slipstream - the original