Monday, August 29, 2005
Cash hits the big easy...
I decided to head down to New Orleans to check on an old friend while Hurricane Katrina is in full bloom. The Superdome is looking a little weathered, but otherwise all is well.
Aside from a few restless natives reminiscent of those freaks I had to deal with in Gaza Strip last week, everything is remarkable calm.
The annoying part (no surprise here) is the media. Everyone from Al-Jazerra to WAVE-TV 3 Louisville has pretty much taken over the Quarter, thinking it's their own personal Disneyland.
I'm staying at an old friend's house tonight in the Garden District while trying my best to stay away from the vermin that spin Katrina like it's their own personal apocalypse.
The journalist indeed are the worst. They all want the same thing - freedom of the freakin' press - so they can sell more Andy Rodick Lexus Ads and put another Pulitzer under their belt.
Next thing you know they're going to want there own grammy awards..
Friday, August 26, 2005
Oil prices and record temperatures keep Cash on his toes...
Record temperatures in LA this week are pushing rolling blackouts throughout Southern California.
Meanwhile, oil prices hit 67 bucks a barrel and show no sign of letting up. Lucky for me, Boss asked me to car sit his 62 VW while he looks into some suspicious activity at the US Open in Flushing.
My new assignment has led me to infiltrate a possible sleeper cell at the City Lights Bar in Hacienda Heights. Happy hour runs from 7AM to 10AM and tailors mostly to third shift plastic manufacturers from Azusa, after hour strippers from Spearmint Rhino’s corporate headquarters, and local right wing crystal meth extremist getting juiced for their 2 hours commute into downtown Los Angeles. So far, everyone’s been on good behavior, but 100 degree weather can do strange things.
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
Wie dominates the conversation...
Sorry to hear about Iraq. Being caught in a sand storm can be emotionally draining. Hopefully the air will clear by tomorrow. I know what you mean about the over abundance of SUVs on that base. Before a poppy seed burn in Pakistan last March, I ended up playing poker all night with a small unit of soldiers from Oklahoma in the back of an Escalade for seven hours straight.
Off the subject, I got a call from football anchor Chris Collingsworth last night. At first I thought he had a crush on me. Instead, when ever he calls he just wants to go on and on about that Korean amateur golfer, Michelle Wie. According to Chris, Wei did an appearance on David Letterman last night. Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on how you look at it)I couldn’t share in Chris’s enthusiasm. The only TV in Tahiti right now is BBC America and Golden Girl Reruns with German subtitles.
Keep me posted and hang in there. I’ll call when I return to the states. I’ll be leaving on Friday.
Monday, August 08, 2005
Cash waits out a sandstorm in Baghdad...
Flew into Baghdad on Friday and have been waiting out a wicked sandstorm. Iraqi leaders decided to postpone a meeting I’m suppose to attend (some kind of deadlock over the country's nascent constitution) until the dust settles. I’m confined to a US Base in the Northwest part of the city and am trying not to get too restless. All the black SUVs on the compound remind me of downtown San Pedro. I’m hoping to be out of this racket by Wednesday at the latest. Iraqi president, Jalal Talabani was very pleasant in our brief meeting last night and gives his best.
Friday, August 05, 2005
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Tuesday, August 02, 2005
Mildred sics Vlad from the Bowling alley on Sputnik...
Sputnik (the one on the right) has been especially annoying this week, trying to hit me up for information while I'm trying to enjoy a freakin' vacation here in Tahiti.
Her father, Sergio, is an an ex-KGB man from Flushing New York who after years of alcoholic neglect, went sober and decided to spoil his daughter rotten. Don't get me started.
If you get back into LA this week, will you notify our Chechen friend Vlad, from the Bowling alley? I'm really fed up. She spied on the Boy Scouts at the Natoinal Jamboree and swears there is some terrorist connection. After last week, I say, give the freakin' Boys Scouts a break.
I'll be concluding my vacation at the end of the week. Remind me to tell you about this man I met. He's from the island, and has inherited 20 acres of furtile pineapple land from his grandfather. The whole idea makes it tempting to resist leaving.