Move Over, Grover...and Let Morgan Take Over

Grover Cleveland is well known as the only Chief Executive to serve non-consecutive terms, which he did as the 22nd president, from 1885 to 1889, and the 24th president, from 1893 to 1897.

Now, he’s got company...

In the first real blockbuster of 2013, Olympus Has Fallen, Morgan Freeman portrays Speaker of the House Allen Trumbull. When President Asher is taken hostage by North Korean terrorists and held in the bunker of the White House, Trumbull assumes the role of Acting President of the United States.*

* I do not know what happened to the Vice President that he was stepped over in the chain of succession, because I have not seen the film—although I hear the popcorn is subpar.

Freeman previously portrayed President Tom Beck in 1998’s Deep Impact.

Okay, as implied by the Twenty-fifth Amendment of the U.S. Constitution and set in precedence several times since its ratification, Morgan Freeman’s term as Acting President is not recognized as a formal, “numbered” presidency—as were, of course, Grover Cleveland’s non-consecutive terms—but as far as the martini-clouded judgment of Mount Drinkmore is concerned, it’s legit enough for this post.

Thus having irrefutably—straight up with one olive—established Morgan Freeman’s non-consecutive presidencies...

Sure, thanks to his presidencies being fictitious, Morgan Freeman never got bogged down in such cinematically mundane crises as tariff issues, economic panics, and thorny questions of colonial annexation—as did Grover Cleveland—but Freeman still was under tremendous pressure to remember his lines, do promotional press junkets for the movie, and keep himself from becoming obese and bushily mustachioed.

Yet Morgan Freeman’s remarkable, on-screen political achievements don’t end there: As Speaker of the House Trumbull fifteen years after he was President Beck, Freeman joins John Quincy Adams as the only former presidents to serve as members of the House of Representatives, which Quincy Adams did from 1831 to 1848.†

† A further link between the two men is that Morgan Freeman portrayed the freed slave, Theodore Joadson, in the film Amistad, which, in part, retells John Quincy Adams’ successful 1841 defense of the “mutinous” slaves aboard the Amistad. (Even further, Morgan Freeman’s surname, itself, echoes Quincy Adams’ work as an abolitionist.)

Yes, Morgan Freeman has proved himself a titan of celluloid American politics. And still at the top of his game as a busy Hollywood actor, the 76-year-old Freeman has time and opportunity to become the only former president to serve in both houses of Congress, or perhaps even serve an unprecedented third non-consecutive term as Commander-in-Chief—a landmark achievement of which Freeman’s agent will hopefully possess enough savvy to be aware.

(Image of Deep Impact copyright DreamWorks Pictures; image of Olympus Has Fallen copyright Millennium Films.)

Might As Well Jump...For Your Country

I was thinking that the official division march for the 82nd Airborne should be Van Halen's "Jump." I mean, what better song to inspire and encapsulate the proud history of the U.S. Army's initial airborne division? Let's face it: the division's current march, "The All-American Soldier," hardly does justice to these paratroopers' specialized training.

And, the 82nd being the "All-American Division," their uniforms should match that of David Lee Roth. As you can see, like Roth, they'd be donning "All-American" colors, thus paying proper homage to divisional tradition. This design would even make for ideal shoulder insignia to replace that rather obvious and mundane "AA" patch they've been wearing since World War II.

Not to mention, an even smaller version of little David Lee would double as perfect jump wings.

 

And if I can't get the 82nd to bite, then I can always suggest an insignia of Don Henley in mid-shriek for the 101st Airborne Screaming Eagles...

Ten Years Gone

So maybe it hasn't been ten years, but it's certainly been awhile. However, I figured it was time to revisit the mountain. What have I learned in this time? Well, there is more than one way to fry an egg. There are several ways, actually. Some are strange and confusing to me. "Eggs Benedict"? What the hell is that? Let's stick to the basics, people. Eggs are very simple; they don't need fancy names. I find this whole subject offensive, frankly, and do not appreciate you bringing it up. Good day to you, sir.

 

Ten Frames Ain't Worth Ten Games: Andrew Bynum's Knee'r-do-well Season

Here on Mount Drinkmore, a large portion of my posts are sports-based, especially regarding the local Philadelphia teams: the Flyers, Phillies, and Eagles. But I rarely have written about the 76ers, or basketball in general. The reason is simple: I am no longer much of a basketball fan, having lost most interest in the sport after the retirement of Larry Bird and the game’s descent into a me-oriented showcase, to the extent that basketball, for me, is an afterthought.

However, my friend, Julie, requested that I post more about basketball—specifically about the 76ers and their latest acquisition, Andrew Bynum (above, in red shirt, at end of 76ers bench).

Alas, the plain fact is that I don’t keep abreast of the NBA beyond bleary eyed tolerance of basketball scores while awaiting those of the major sports during morning editions of ESPN SportsCenter. So I don’t have a lot of topics from which to choose, particularly about the local hoops team.

However, Andrew Bynum—or rather his absence from the lineup due to a knee injury—does afford a posting opportunity…even if it’s not for what my friend might hope.

After seven seasons as a Los Angeles Laker, during which he won two world championships and earned a spot on the 2012 All-NBA Second Team, Bynum was traded to Philadelphia on August 10, 2012. Bynum has had a history of knee problems; in fact, since playing a full 82 games in 2006-07, he has missed 146 of 410 contests—nearly all due to knee injuries. Now, 10 games into the current season, Bynum has yet to take the court for Philadelphia, having been declared inactive due to a bone bruise and cartilage damage in his right knee.

Adding both insult and injury to injury, Bynum recently admitted to aggravating his other knee by, very foolishly, bowling, thus not only setting back his return to the court, but, as is now being reported, imperiling his entire season—making his night at the lanes an especially brainless act considering he’ll be a free agent after this season.

Apart from that regurgitation of Bynum’s troubles, as well as his recent assortment of peculiar hairstyles, I have little else on which I can expound on the matter…

…except to say that I have been to Bynum, Montana, a speck of a town straddling Route 89 northwest of Great Falls, sitting quietly in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains. Little more than a break in the monotonous grandeur of Montana’s rolling plains, Bynum (whose downtown you see here) boasts a handful of houses, a small elementary school, post office, general store, and a few shops—including a “dinosaur center,” where one can buy authentic fossils.

Now, normally, comparing the travails of a single individual to an entire community would result in specious deductions; however, with a population of a mere 31 adults (according to the 2010 U.S. Census), Bynum, Montana, clearly is small enough to draw comparison with Andrew Bynum without running into wild assumptions arising from statistical variance.

Although I futilely scoured the Internet for statistics on knee injuries in Bynum, Montana—or at least Teton County, in which Bynum resides—it can be safely assumed that at least 1 resident of Bynum has suffered a knee injury of some sort, especially when one considers that, according to that same 2010 U.S. Census, nearly half of Bynum’s population is 65 years of age or older. Abetted by the fact that Montana winters cover the town’s streets with an abundance of snow and ice, Bynum is a patellar catastrophe waiting to happen.

Potentially compounding Bynum’s natural knee hazards—and posing a threat especially to Bynum residents already hobbled by knee woes—nearby Choteau features the Alley Cat bowling lanes. The only bowling alley in all of Teton County, you can bet Bynum residents flock the 14 miles to the Alley Cat because there is literally nothing to do in Bynum for recreation (unless residents possess unimaginable tolerance for browsing stegosaurus bones).

According to the 2010 U.S. Census Bureau’s American Community Survey, 40.0% of Montanans age 25 to 64 possess a college degree. That means that approximately 8 of Bynum’s 17 residents between the ages of 18 and 64 hold a college degree. Add a few from Bynum’s elderly population, and perhaps a dozen Bynum residents are college graduates—leaving 19 with, at most, a high school education.

Andrew Bynum entered the NBA draft straight out of high school, foregoing a college education—thus, again, he is directly comparable to the segment of Bynum’s population lacking higher education.

Needless to say, one of the first things one learns in college is the importance of knee safety. (Most credible institutions cover it in freshman orientation.) And it’s virtually impossible in the college environment not to gain an appreciation for the basic dangers of bowling on already-damaged legs. (Having taken a bowling class for 4 credits during my senior year, I can attest to this personally—or at least to what a cute tush my teammate Stephanie had.) Therefore, those who do not attend college—such as Andrew Bynum and more than half of Bynum’s citizenry—are highly prone not only to knee injury, but to self-induced worsening of pre-existing knee injury (see artist's depiction above of a Bynum, Montana, resident who did not go to college).

Again, locating statistics on bowling-related knee injuries in Bynum proved difficult, but if the Alley Cat’s close proximity to Teton Medical Center—less than a mile—is any indication, then we can be sure that Bynum residents are suffering bowling-induced knee trauma with almost-epidemic frequency. Furthermore, the Alley Cat’s automated message stating its address and hours of operation strongly implies that its employees are too busy tending to injured bowlers to answer the phone. 

The numbers don’t lie: extrapolations derived from the data being beyond question, it is clear that Andrew Bynum’s sorry saga of bilateral knee injuries acutely mirrors that of Bynum, Montana’s, residents. None of those unfortunate Montanans has ever returned to the NBA. Thus, we need only look to the good people of Bynum, Montana, for a prognosis on the career of Andrew Bynum—and vice versa.

It is my sincere hope that this bit of basketball ephemera served to enlighten Mount Drinkmore readers and satisfy Julie, who, most likely, closed her Web browser four paragraphs ago...

(Photo of Sixers game copyright Comcast; image of Peter Griffin copyright Fox.)

Ian Anderson, My Friend, Is Blowin' in the Wind...

Hurricane Sandy's wind is really beginning to howl through the trees right now...and I'm thinking that an accurate gauge of hurricane strength would be how the wind would affect Ian Anderson, were he standing outside, playing his flute in his trademark one-legged stance. For example, if he gets blown over, the wind is indeed of Category 1 force. In fact, I propose the following Ian Anderson–based grading system for hurricane-force winds:

Category 1: Ian Anderson, in one-legged, flute-playing stance, blown over but able to retain place once back on both legs.

Category 2: Ian Anderson blown over and rolled across parking lot.

Category 3: Ian Anderson either blown into an open dumpster or smashed against it with force enough for the thud to be heard at a distance of 100 yards.

Category 4: Wind powerful enough to shear Ian Anderson's long, wild, minstrel-in-the-gallery locks down to the businessman-like, salmon-farming buzzcut he has donned since the late 1990s.

Category 5: Ian Anderson taken airborne by wind and never seen again; flute also taken airborne, and force of wind coarsing through it causes the flute to play the intro to "Nothing Is Easy" while it, too, disappears from view.

Another excellent gauge of Sandy's power would have been to put Gary Sandy ("Andy Travis" of WKRP in Cincinnati fame) outside during the storm and observe if Sandy's wind had any adverse effect on his perfect, unmussable hair. Of course, this Gary Sandy–based measurement would be pertinent only for Hurricane Sandy.

Or a future Hurricane Gary.

The National Weather Service would do well to adopt these measurements...

(Photo of Gary Sandy copyright CBS.)

Buy My Black Handbag, Woman

So I come across SPNBC, the home-shopping channel of NBC, last night...and what are they selling? Carlos by Carlos Santana: "A collection of trendy handbags and shoes from designer Carlos Santana."

It's a long way from Woodstock to In Stock...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oye como va, not cheap no

Pluma tote goin' fast, you betcha

Oye como va, not cheap no
Lucero pa', Barrel Satchel

Oye como va, shoes also
Stillettos y flats, look hotta

Oye como va, sold out-a
Not enough peso, from guitar-a

Dah-dah-dah-dah-DAH-duh-dah...HUUH!

 

The Camera Never Lies...When It Dies, Man, When It Dies, He Dies...

This 1967 photo of Marlon Brando and Elizabeth Taylor surfaced recently in Elizabeth Taylor: Queen of the Silver Screen, by Ian Lloyd.

But, oh man, this photo should have been one of the dossier photos seen when Capt. Willard leafs through Col. Kurtz's file on the boat in Apocalypse Now. It captures perfectly Kurtz's shattered psyche, and, dating from 1967, inherently possesses the perfect elements of dress, hairstyle, and photographic quality for a snapshot that, in the context of the film, would date from the early to mid-1960s.

Imagine seeing this snapshot among the army photos and documents chronicling Kurtz's rise through the ranks and descent into madness, as Willard narrates, "He broke from them, and then he broke from himself. I'd never seen a man so broken up and ripped apart."

Such verisimilitude portraying that Col. Kurtz had indeed gone totally insane...even if this photo tacitly implies that he broke from himself first.

It's a shame that this photo wasn't available to Francis Ford Coppola during principal photography—but Coppola could re-cut the film to insert it. Why not? There already are so many re-edited and reduxed versions that one more hardly seems a big deal.

Perhaps for Apocalypse Now's 35th anniversary...

I hope Coppola will; this photo would add one more layer of weird to this ultimate tale of the Vietnam War's insanity.

(Photo from Apocalypse Now copyright Zoetrope Studios.)