SEEING THE POETRY OF GILLES VILLENEUVE’S BROKEN FERRARI

“That’s the poetry of everyday life. You have to be ready to see things as others don’t even imagine. Make visible the invisible.” – Massimo Bottura, 2014 

 Walking to a lunch reservation at Massimo Bottura’s Osteria Francescana, Nancy Silverton stepped into a Modena second-hand vintage shop  and came out of telling me of the many Ferrari models inside  I went in and after consulting with the owner, purchased an F40 for my small collection in Panicale, Umbria and a Formula One, a model,  the owner said, of the four-time World Champion Alain Prost, who is half French half Armenian and famous for his duels with Ayrton Senna.

Of course, I had to buy that. I got it with the intention of giving it as a gift to Massimo Bottura to add to his collection of model Ferraris he has on display in his restaurant’s wine cellar that double as  private dining room.  On our walk is to  his restaurant – named #1 in 2016 and 2018 by the World’s 50 Best Restaurants organization and, for the record, not illegible currently because he had already won  - the plastic bag I was carrying with the the models inside slipped out of my hand and fell to the cobblestone street. I didn’t think anything of it as the shop owner had wrapped the models in layers of newspaper.

We went to Osteria and Nancy and I were sat in the wine cellar, reserved for friends of the house.  We were immediately poured two goblets of 2011 Ca’ del Bosco Annamaria Clementi Franciacorta sparkling wine. In preparation of Massimo’s greeting, I unwrapped the F1 Ferrari and to my sheer disappointment saw it was broken. When the bag fell, it had severely damaged the F1 car. One front and one rear wheel and tire were busted off, another was loose. Brakes were busted.  Damnit. God damnit. I could not give Bottura a broken model.   

Nancy and I tried in vain to put the tires back on but it was too intricate and key pieces were broken. I put it away. I didn’t know what I would do with it. Maybe it was destined for trash.

Within moments, Nancy came to the Ferrari’s rescue. “Okay,” she said, “I’ll give you the chance to say it.”

“Say what?”

“Think about what you can say to Massimo about the Ferrari.”

I couldn’t think of anything.

“Come on,” Nancy said. “You’re the writer.  You gonna feel stupid when I tell you. Your gonna wish you came up with this.”

I scanned my mind, but came up empty. “Nancy, what?”                                                                                                                   

She had a sly smile, She knew she had a winner and then she just said it. “Oops, I dropped the Ferrari.”

O. M. G. Straight out brilliant.  She had just saved the Ferrari from garbage bin. She had seen the poetry where I couldn’t envision. She had made the invisible quite visible.   

Massimo’s most famous dessert is called “Oops, I dropped the lemon tart.” which was accidently born when a Osteria Francescana sous chef, Taka Kondo, well, he dropped a lemon tart. Bottura told a food publication this.  "Taka was ready to kill himself because he's Japanese and his culture doesn't make mistakes, or they make mistakes but they're not allowed to. So, I saved Taka's life saying 'Taka, it's amazing’.”

Bottura and staff went on to painstakingly recreate Kondo’s fallen tart and “Oops, I dropped the Lemon Tart” became a classic.”

So when Nancy said “Oops, I dropped the Ferrari” I knew that was the magical line to say to Massimo. Though he came to our table three times that lunch – one of the best meals of my life – none was the appropriate time to drop the magical line. That night we went to Massimo and his wife Lara’s small heavenly countryside hotel called Casa Maria Luigia. Nancy was too full to eat but I indulged in his classics; 48-month culatello, tortellini Parmigianino, psychedelic beef, even the “Oops, I dropped the Lemon Tart.” I told the Ferrari story to our server Domenico and the chef Jessica Rosval who was just named by Guide dell L’Expresso as the best female chef in Italy which she was particularly proud of because she’s from Canada. From Montreal’s West Island.

I asked Domenico for a plate and he added he would bring a plate and cloche, the plate topper He did and I put the Ferrari, broken pieces and all in there and topped it with the cloche.

Massimo came by and I told him the story – I got you a Formula One Ferrari. Alain Prost’s model. Bag slipped out of my hand. We looked at it. Couldn’t give to you. Then Nancy had the line.

As I lifted the cloche, I said the “Oops, I dropped the Ferrari.”  He gasped, walked away about five steps and came back and said “Amazing. Amazing. Amazing. Amazing. (Yes, four “amazings” from Massimo Bottura.)

I gave Nancy all the credit and he hugged her. He looked back at the Ferrari and immediately said ”Not Prost. Gilles Villeneuve. Number 27. That was Villeneuve’s car.”

That made it all the more special to me and others. Gilles Villeneuve was one of the fastest drivers in Formula One history. He died in a horrible airborne crash in 1982 during qualifying for the Belgium Grand Prix at Zolder. F1 legend Nikki Lauda said this of him;. "He was the craziest devil I ever came across in Formula 1.   The fact that, for all this, he was a sensitive and lovable character rather than an out-and-out hell-raiser made him such a unique human being". (Out of respect to Gilles, I need to say his son, Jacques, became the first Canadian to win the Formula One World Championship in 1997.)

When chef Jessica joined in the table again I told her it wasn’t Prost’s car it was Gilles Villeneuve’s. She almost cried. Villeneuve was a Canadian as well.

Massimo took the broken Ferrari away “I am going to frame this.”

Gilles Villeneuve is still remembered at Grand Prix races, especially those in Italy. At the Autodromo Enzo e Dino Ferrari, the site of the San Marino Grand Prix, a corner is named after him and a Canadian flag is painted on the third slot on the starting grid, from which he started his last race. There is also a bronze bust of him at the entrance to the Ferrari test track at Fiorano in Maranello. At Zolder the corner where Villeneuve died has been turned into a chicane and named after him.

And soon, at one of the world’s greatest restaurants or its family hotel, one of the world’s greatest Formula One drivers, now invisible, will be made visible.

BAN THE LEFT TURN

Last week my uncle Johnny and auntie Sheila from Chicago came to visit. They had not been in Los Angeles for 45 years and, though they both thought it was a bit corny, they really wanted to see some of our city’s famous tourist spots.    

“I know it’s for kids, but we’d really just like to go sightseeing,” said aunt Sheila, 72, almost apologetically. 

No problem, I told them. Heck, I wouldn’t mind seeing some of the spots that have brought tourists to the town of my birth myself. 

So, I took them to the Chinese Theater – that I still call Grauman’s Chinese - and uncle and I we put our feet in Humphrey Bogart’s, Paul Newman’s and Steve McQueen’s shoe imprint while auntie tried out Ava Gardner and Natalie Wood. 

Then we went to the La Brea Tar Pits and marveled at the mastodons and mammoths and that saber-toothed tiger, (now, politically correct, called a saber-toothed cat) still the coolest name of any animal. Ever.  

Then I took them to see the storied “NO LEFT TURN 7 AM - 9 AM  4PM - 7 PM” sign at Beverly and Normandie. That’s a classic I never get tired of seeing and love to take out-of-towners to gaze at it.  It’s such a sweet thought back to memory lane. Those wonderous days when the morning rush ended at 9 a.m. and the afternoon rush didn’t start until 4 p.m..  Imagine that. Back then, from 9 am to 4 pm - seven hours! – drivers hummed along in Los Angeles streets like they were Formula One champion Lewis Hamilton zooming around the Nürburgring racetrack in Germany. 

My uncle and aunt stared at the sign it wistfully. “Wow, what a, well, I guess, in a way, a melancholy sign,” said aunt Sheila, who was born in Manchester, England and grew up fairytales about Los Angeles allowing left turns from non-“left turn only” designated lanes. “So back in the day, the evening rush hour didn’t start until four? And only lasted three hours? That’s crazy. What a delight that must have been to drive in those days.”

Since we weren’t that far away, and I had an hour before dinner, I continued the tour. I drove west on Beverly, past the Wilshire Country Club, hung a right on June Street and another right onto Melrose and headed back east. 

“Get your cameras out,” I said as we drove past the intersection where Rossmore Avenue transforms into Vine Street ( that’s a whole ‘nuther story). “Now watch as this two-lane road becomes only one lane because three or four people get to park on Melrose.”

I lucked out. Only one car was parked on Melrose a block west of Larchmont, but it was enough for 100s, more likely 1,000s of cars to have to squish over, honk, nearly side swipe each other all for one car to park. 

My uncle was impressed. “So, let me get this straight.  A thousand cars pay the price for one car to park. A two-lane street becomes one-lane all because of that silver Camry. Now that’s democracy.”

Democracy? No, this is more like stupidity. Two lane roads turning into one lane so a few people can park? People legally turning left up until 4 p.m.? Hey Garcetti, hey Transportation Department bosses, wake the blank up. The rush hour in Los Angeles does not end at 9 a.m. or start up again at 4 p.m.,  Time have changed. Change the damn signs.

Make it, I don’t know, left turns allowed from 11 a.m. until 2 p.m. on certain streets?  How about no left turns at all? Make three right turns.  Suffer a little. The left turn is the most dangerous thing most L.A. residents do all day anyway.  Ban it. Let us going-straight folks go without having to veer into the next lane. 

The point is do something about the traffic on the streets. .  

Every time I drive on these roads – two, three times a  day – I think “Do the people that run this city ever actually drive?”  They couldn’t possibly drive here and think this is okay. These rules 30, 40 years old.  

Where is the Coltrane, the Miles Davis of the transportation department?  We need some outside the box. Or, rather,  outside the lane thinking. This current way is not working. Try something different. Anything. 

The rush hour is no no longer 7 am to 9 am and 4 p.m. to 7 p.m.. It’s a lovely thought but it’s just not true. It’s fiction. It’s make believe.   

Whoever is in charge of traffic, please, like Frank Sinatra sings in “I’ve Got You Under My Skin”,  use your mentality, wake up to reality.

HOWARD WEITZMAN HIRED TO DEFEND BRUTUS IN RETRIAL OF JULIUS CAESAR STABBING

Famed Los Angeles attorney Howard Weitzman will defend Decimus Junius Brutus Albinus in the highly anticipated retrial of the infamous Julius Caesar stabbing assassination on March 15, 44 B.C. in Rome.

Brutus Albinus, much better known as simply Brutus, was convicted of murder in the first degree in a highly publicized trial in 45 B.C. and sentenced to LWOP, life without the possibility of parole. Since the fall of the Roman Empire in 476 A.D., , Brutus has sought a retrial  

Weitzman, who left Los Angeles on April 7th to join the prestigious firm of Hammurabi, Cicero, Darrow and Kardashian located on the westside of Mount Olympus, held a press conference Monday on the steps of the Really High Court to make the announcement he had taken the case. The unusual maneuver was more like an opening statement than a presser.

“The evidence will show that my client did not kill Julius Caesar and was, in fact, rushing to protect him from an unruly mob,” Weitzman said with a slight smirk. “Mr. Caesar was Folsom shanked 23 times. Look at my client. He couldn’t shank a spencer prime roast from Vincente Foods let alone fully grown adult with more attitude than anyone since Alexander.”

Weitzman laid much of the blame for Brutus’s centuries-long assumption of guilt conviction on William Shakespeare who famously wrote about Caesar’s killing, undoubtedly the most famous assassination in history.

“Shakes did more damage to my client’s reputation than all the forensic evidence in Rome, “ said Weitzman, who, as is his style, was juggling doing the press conference with making lunch reservations, this time at Escoffier’s new bistro. “When Shakespeare wrote that Caesar said ‘Et tu, Brutus’, that’s all the public heard. Hold on. Do you have the roast Bresse chicken stuffed with Perigord truffles today? Yes, where was I? Oh, yeah.  Brutus loved big Julie.  The trial will show that.”

Weitzman contended that since security footage of the Caesar assassination is “spotty at best” and several eyewitnesses to the brutal attack who were not allowed to testify in the original trial, will testify in the retrial and “put enough reasonable doubt to free my client.”

“Look, Brutus has been held without bail in a holding cell since 44 B.C, that’s, what, 2,065 years. I would normally argue for ‘time served’, but he is adamant about clearing his name.”

Weitzman even leaned further into what will likely be a key element of his defense when he spoke of incriminating evidence against Brutus in the first trial.

“They claimed a bloody toga was my client’s,” Weitzman said. “I will prove in court it was not. Brutus was way too fat to wear that toga. If the toga doesn’t fit, you must acquit.”

Sources close to the investigations told this reporter that Weitzman was being paid in rare bottles of wine including a 47 B.C. Chateau Cheval Blanc, a 217 B.C. Panicale rosso H, Barca Cuvee and a 2009 A.D. L’Evangile.

 A reporter in the crowd asked Weitzman how he was getting along in his new home.

“They call this place heaven, but I was already in Heaven on Earth with my Margaret by side,” said Howard, his voice uncharacteristically cracking. “I saw some footage yesterday of Margaret with tears in her eyes. I want you to get word to her.  Relish those tears. Those tears are from me. I have them for you. There are two tears. The ones that tear your heart and the one that fall from your eyes.  Some people never have tears of any kind. Those poor souls. We are blessed and we have tears.”

Then Weitzman appeared to have a revelation of sorts. “Tears and tears,” he said softly, seemingly to himself.  “Hmm. Tears and tears. ‘Tears and tears. At Hammurabi, Cicero, Darrow, Kardashian and Weitzman we get rid of them both.’ That could be our logo. I’m gonna run this by Hammurabi. Can you text up here?”

NANCY SILVERTON TAKES A SHOWER

BY JIMMY DOLAN., Mozza Tribune Staff Writer

Last fall, when Mozza chef Nancy Silverton, her director of operations Kate Greenberg and a journalist went to the Four Seasons Cabo Del Sol resort in Baja, Mexico, they were awash in luxury. From their huge showers, to the small wading pool adjoining their rooms to the warm, awaiting Sea of Cortez, they lived the good life as clean as could be.

The trio’s next trip together was the polar opposite. In fact, you could call it the polar bear opposite. It was on March 8th to Alaska to be a curious part of the famous Iditarod sled dog race. Nancy had been lured to the Winterlake Lodge, a luxury resort with Kirsten Dixon and her daughter Mandy Dixon, a Thomas Keller trained chef, in a town where the closest post office and market was an hour away by helicopter. She was to take park in what was billed as an “Ice Cream Social”, a gathering featuring her renowned Nancy’s Fancy gelati served in the main lodge.

The Winterlake is at the Finger Lake stop on the Iditarod, a nearly 1,000 mile dog sled race from Anchorage to Nome that always brings to my mind the wonderful 1903 Jack London novel “The Call of the Wild” about a dog named Buck from Santa Clara Valley, California who is dognapped, shipped to Alaska and forced to compete in a (fictionally) extremely brutal sled dog race.

Normally the Lodge would host this upscale event and have the dog sled drivers, their crews and those rich enough to stay at Winterlake. But, because of Covid, the lodge would only allow Nancy, Kate and Michael and the other six guests into the dining area.

The three of us stayed in rooms about 600 feet from the main lodge. And one of stunning features of the rooms is they had no running water. None. They turn off the water in the rooms this year because, I guess, they know they will burst. To shower, we would have to walk the 600 feet to a dining area, past the yoga room, past the main lobby, past the bar, past the music room and into a bathroom that had a shower.

In the five days they were there, Nancy, Kate and Michael took a grand total of two showers. That’s not two showers each, that’s two showers total for the three people.  Nancy Silverton took no showers at Winterlake. None.

Now, if you know Nancy like this Tribune reporter does, you know she is one of the most carefully-cleaned, well-groomed and brilliantly dressed people on Earth. So, for her to go five days without a shower is unheard of.

Still, she somehow managed to look as fresh as the icicles hanging from the eves of the lodge every morning.  She would almost brag to her entourage, “I’m not gonna take a shower today.”  The trek to the shower was a turn off more than the temptation of hot water.

But, when she got home, Nancy Silverton took a shower.  Still, to this reporter, she didn’t look any more beautiful than she did at our experience in the Call of the Wild.  

EDITOR’S NOTE This story is the sequel to Nancy Silverton Has A Cold http://www.krikorianwrites.com/blog/2015/10/17/nancy-silverton-has-a-cold

Which was a take on one of the classics of new journalsim, April 1966 Esquire article by Gay Talese called “Frank Sinatra Has A Cold”

OSTERIA ENTRANCE, PART 2; CAR CRASHES INTO MOZZA FRONT DOORS... AGAIN, DULL MOMENTS ARE RARE ON “THE CORNER”

Less than a week after it reopened Osteria Mozza took another powerful punch to the gut, but got right back up.  Well, everything but the doors.

Shortly after noon Monday, a car slammed into the front entrance of Osteria Mozza, ruining the front doors and bruising the big cabinet inside but injuring no humans.

“We’ve taken many blows before and we always get back up and start swinging and we will do the same with this,” said chef/owner Nancy Silverton “We will be open as scheduled on Wednesday.” 

Kate “KGB” Greenberg, Mozza Director of Operations, was on the phone with the insurance company about damages from the May, 2020 riot on The Corner when she heard the what sounded like an explosion.  “I had just hung up on a call about the riot here and then I hear this giant crash sound,” Kate said. “Dull moments are rare on The Corner.” 

Nancy said she was working on a coconut cupcake when Kate walked up to her. “In cool and calm Kate Greenberg fashion she said ‘Someone just crashed into the Osteria front doors.”.

Like most sequels, this one was not as good as the original.

On April 18, 2015 a Toyota Tundra erupted into the Osteria during staff lunch, lovingly known as “Chicken Time”. Legendary pasta man Alex Vasquez was injured by a falling pillar, something he gets to brag about. I mean how many of us can say we were injured by a falling pillar?.

The damage then was se extensive Osteria closed for nine days.

The crash was likely caused by a left turn from northbound Highland to westbound Melrose, something that President Biden has vowed to outlaw.

On another Mozza front, that coconut cupcake Nancy was working on will be the best of its kind ever. But you probably figured that out already.

KATE GREENBERG OFFICIALLY ELECTED 2020 MOZZA EMPLOYEE OF THE YEAR

In what many are calling a long overdue recognition, Kate Greenberg, Mozza’s Director of Operations, has officially won the 2020 Mozza Employee of the Year Award, considered one of the most prestigious honors in the United States restaurant industry.

Greenberg, affectionately known aka “KGB”, was sitting with chef/owner Nancy Silverton in Mozza2Go at the storied Los Angeles corner of Highland and Melrose when a Tribune delivery boy handed her the hot-off-the-press newspaper with a banner headline declaring her the winner of the distinguished award. Kate was speechless. Then she smiled sweetly and shyly and hugged the delivery boy.

“I’m so happy for Kate,” said Nancy as she sipped on a 1961 ginger-infused water, her new Chateau Latour. “2020 has clearly been the most difficult year, but Kate stepped up. I’m happy for Kate Greenberg.”

Joe Bastianich, Mozza-co-owner and Italian wine producer was also please by the news. He issued the following statement: “Wise beyond her years, mightier than she appears, Kate Greenberg has been a true leader in the most difficult of times. Our industry is lucky to have a young woman like Kate Greenberg to lead us into a future of immense opportunities. Congratulations, Kate.”

In San Francisco, renowned chef Dominique Crenn said “When you’re good, you’re good. But, when you’re extraordinary, you are a true bad ass. Congratulations Kate. You are a bad ass.”

Terry Malloy, who went to school briefly with Kate, told her, “I just mean to tell you you grew up very nice.”

But, not everyone was thrilled with the news. Especially other candidates.

When asked by Tribune reporter Jimmy Dolan if she had congratulated Kate on her victory, Jennifer Beech, Mozza’s party planner and one of the eight finalists, huffed passed the journalist and brusquely said “I don’t want to talk about it. And Jimmy, I don’t trust you. And that’s on the record and you can put that in your fucked-up newspaper.“

After Friday’s official declaration protestors briefly stormed the Mozza Tribune’s offices in the notorious Folsom Lot of Nickerson Gardens housing project in Watts off of Imperial Highway, but were repelled by Big Hank, Loaf, Kartoon, Honcho and even Cleamon “Big Evil” Johnson. Dolan was not at the office during the confrontation.

Later, Dolan, widely considered the Tribune’s ace reporter, faced a cold reception from Osteria Mozza cooks Herbert “Herbie” Yuen, Nico Rodriguez and Marisa Takenaka following news of the Greenberg win. “The only reason we are allowing you in the kitchen Jimmy is to tell you we are demanding a recount,” Herbie said.

When told of Yuen’s reaction, Greenberg, who grew up not far from the notorious San Quentin Prison, smiled and simply said “Oh, Herbie.” As a unification gesture Greenberg brought the kitchen a very large bottle of some blue bottle tequila. Knowing the kitchen staff, that bottle, big as it was, won’t be around long.

Aside from the responsibilities that come with the title, Greenberg will receive a wide variety of treasures including rare wines, a two-night stay at the Ojai Valley Inn, at least two burritos from Burritos La Palma, two chivis from Sonoratown, Aryton Senna on call to move her GTB 251 from alleys, an autographed copy of the book “Southside” and the only known printed out copy of “Knuckles”.

ER NURSES WHO CARED FOR MICHAEL SINGER AT BERKSHIRE MEDICAL CENTER REQUEST TRANSFER TO ALEPPO HOSPITAL

Late into the night at the Berkshire Medical Center in Pittsfield, Massachusetts, an emergency room nurse erased the last five letters of a patient’s name on the clipboard hanging from the entrance to his room. The erasure left only a single “S”. .The nurse then tip-toed back into the hallway, checked to see if anyone was coming, went back to the clipboard and added some letters. She added an “A” in front of the “S”, peeked back to check the hallway again and then, with a shaking hand, added three more letters after that those two.

When the daytime nurse Julia Milholland arrived for her shift, she was perplexed to see the new name on the clipboard.

“Hey, Layla,” she called out to the nurse-in-charge, “Did Mike discharge? Or did he get moved to a different ward?”

Layla Raqqa didn’t even bother to look up from her computer and simply said “No, Cranky is still there.”

“I read few years back Singer had his crankiness surgically removed,” Nurse Julia said.

“Don’t believe everything you read,” Layla replied. “Why do you ask?”

“Well,” said Julia, “The name on the clipboard outside his front door says “Assad”.

Gwen burst into laughter. “Hmmf.. Maybe Hafez, the old man. The kid, Bashar, wouldn’t be as ornery as Singer.”

That was last Saturday morning a few days after Michael Singer. the legendary investigative news producer had been admitted to a hospital for a seared kidney (without a ‘78 La Tache). To say he had not been the most pleasant of patients would be like saying 2020 has been a rough flu season.

At least nine personnel, including five nurses, demanded they be transferred to other hospitals. Four of them said they would prefer to be at Aleppo’s notorious Community Hospital rather than have to deal with Singer.

“Okay, Aleppo is the world’s most dangerous place, I get that,” said RN Mary Wilson, “But, least people there don’t call me an quote, unquote, ‘You butterhole idiot’ How does Ruth Reichl put up with him? I love Ruth, but it kinda makes me wonder about her. And their kid seems like he has no grumpy at all.”

Silas Moranavich, a prominent New England word examiner, said Singer broke several records during his time at Berkshire MC including saying the word “incompetent” 54 times, uttering’ “dumb ass” 46 times, and evoking Jesus Christ more than 100 times in a single evening, including 14 “Jesus Christ, you’re an idiot” and 13 “Jesus Christ, who the fuck told you to become a nurse?”

Singer was released from the hospital last week and is said to be doing much better and his grumpiness levels have dropped from the 97-100 range to below 30 Normal range is 0-15.

MORE THAN 78 SENATORS URGE NANCY SILVERTON TO ORDER ELYSSA PHILLIPS TO STOP CALLING THEM IMMEDIATELY

BY JIMMY DOLAN

In a show of unity not seen this historic year, 78 United States Senators signed a pledge to vote for the Restaurant Relief Act, with one proviso; Nancy Silverton needs to order an employee to stop the constant telephone calls to their offices.

“We will vote for whatever package you want, Nancy, but please tell her to stop with the constant kveching,” said Lamar Bitch Alexander, (R- TN). “Please make her stop.”    

The server, who thank Jesus and Muhammad , is not always at the Corner, is one Elyssa Phillips, a refugee from who knows where, who somehow got a job at the great Italian restaurant Osteria Mozza.

Phillips, age unknown, has thankfully not been on the Corner much lately with the shut down, but made a unusually quiet appearance Thursday with her sound level rarely approaching more the 107 decibels, the same peak as a 12 cylinder Ferrari 8GTB25.

“We are emphatically urging Nancy to put a stop to this,” said Sen. Diane Feinstein (D- Calif). “We have agreed to provide restaurants with all the goddamn money they want. We will especially give the Mozza Corner and extra 20 million. But, no more Calls!”

Republican majority leader – and certified asshole – Mitch McConnell agreed with Feinstein. “Tell her to stop and the cash will flow to the restaurants. It’s that simply.”

Nancy Silverton could no be reached for comment. No attempt was made to reach to Elyssa for obvious reasons.

.

ALTANTA DEMOCRATS UNITE WITH REPUBLICANS DEMANDING RALPH WAXMAN LEAVE GEORGIA IMMEDIATELY

In a rare show of unity not seen since Henry Aaron came to town, members of Atlanta’s democratic and republican parties held a joint press conference Wednesday at the Hyatt Regency demanding that controversial political rabble rouser Ralph Waxman either leave Georgia on his own or be escorted out by state police.

“Please, just get the hell out of town and go back to your own troubled city, “ said Stacey Abrams, Georgia’s leading voting rights activist. “While we appreciate his concern, his very appearance here is causing problems we just don’t need now.”

Waxman, a big time admirer of Abrams, was stunned by her statement. “Perhaps, Stacey is hitting the bottle, again,” Waxman suggested. “If that’s the case, then cool. Tell her to come to my room at Perry’s 6.5 Motel and I’ll have the Pappy waiting.”

Waxman had road tripped - and I do mean “tripped” - from his home in the Highland Park sector of Los Angeles to Georgia on a strange path that took him through Arizona ,New Mexico, Texas, Oklahoma, Arkansas, Louisiana, and in a drunken stupor he headed for the wrong Georgia and spent three days in the Gronzy, City Jail in Chechnya.

His arrival this week to the American state of Georgia was met with both excitement and concern. Waxman has an ability to get out the vote by his sheer determination and persistence. He will knock on your door and talk and talk and he will talk and just to get him to leave you will vote for whoever he says to vote for. In his most celebrated - nearly mythical - “vote switch” he convinced an elephant peace activist to vote for the great Carthaginian General Hannibal Barca for zookeeper before his 218 BC. Alps crossing.

Abrams, thinking local news would love a story about a San Diego native who works for Nancy Silverton, thought the media should focus more on the actual candidates rather than on Waxman. “We need to focus on these candidates, not Waxman, Though if that Pappy offer is still good, tell him I’ll be at the Motel 6.5 at about nine thirty. He’ll love it when I call him “Pappy”. They all do. And tell Perry to put on some clean sheets.”