The Oppenheimer Report - 8/27/12

Yesterday marked the 20^th anniversary of the first time I met my future wife Shauna. We’d spoken on the phone a few times, and written letters to each other, and finally, on August 26, 1992, we agreed to meet at Niagara-on-the-Lake for supper. I convinced her that this location was equidistant from Buffalo and Toronto, and being geographically challenged, she believed me. In fact, Niagara-on-the-Lake is much closer to Buffalo, and I suppose I was hedging my bets. She was almost two hours late, but when we finally met we became fast friends. I remember sitting in her little red Mazda RX-7 after the whole town had gone to bed, listening to The Guitar Trio with Paco de Lucia, a guitarist Shauna and I both enjoy and have since seen several times. Her intelligence, her passion for music, and her sense of humor stole my heart that night, and I didn’t have a chance. Within a year, I proposed marriage to her, in a song I wrote, and surprisingly, she said yes. Because my decision to propose was made at the last minute, I didn’t have a proper engagement ring, so I used a hose clamp from my tool box instead. You snooze, you lose girfren. Marriage is not for sissies, but after eighteen years, we’re beginning to figure it out. She is still late a lot of the time, but I think I made the right decision.

Apparently what happens in Vegas does not always stay in Vegas. Naked photographs of Royal playboy Prince Harry have surfaced, thanks to celebrity bashers TMZ, and are circulating in the tabloids. Apparently Harry was playing strip billiards with some alleged friends and the crown jewels were exposed. I’m sure Britons have seen far worse, and if memory serves me correctly, some paparazzi scum managed to snap Prince Chuck in the nude a long time ago. My question is, how much did the “photographer” get for those Harry photos? Hope it was worth it, because you are now an international scuzzball. Same goes for the a-hole who sold that photo of Michael Phelps taking a hit off a bong after the Beijing Olympics. Look for the new movie about rampant opportunism, coming soon to a theatre near you: Scumbag Millionaire.

How about that Teabagger-endorsed bozo (and six term) Missouri Representative Todd Akin, claiming that “legitimately” raped women don’t get pregnant? Whuh? This is the Republican strategy for saving money? It’s the new, inexpensive way to prevent pregnancy … will it away! While we’re at it, let’s scrap all stem cell research, because some people think that phrenology and bloodletting are far more effective in treating life threatening illnesses. I do not see any way that we could claim that Akin’s comments were taken out of context. That is quite simply a dumb ass thing to believe, much less to say! And I keep repeating it every four years, especially since the controversial Bush/Gore race in 2000; America has become hopelessly crippled by partisan politics. If the Founding Fathers could see how far off the rails this train has gone, they might have opted for some form of autocracy. What infuriates me is that Republican or Democrat, whoever wins in November will be hamstrung by a corrupt and self-serving Congress. At least I can voice this opinion with impunity, for now at least.

They say the number seven is good luck, and yet that number was linked to infamy last week. It’s the 7^th time Mark David Chapman is up for parole for the murder of John Lennon. I don’t think so, Mr. Chapman. Imagine there’s a prison, where bad guys never leave. And after giving up his fight to clear his name of allegations he “juiced,” seven time Tour de France champion Lance Armstrong has thrown in the towel and will be stripped of his Tour de France medals. Armstrong may have been wise to give it up. While no test has proven he used performance enhancing drugs in his competitions, somehow this scandal just kept coming, and “eyewitnesses” have come forward to testify they saw Armstrong do the dirty deed. He can now walk away from this “witch hunt” as he called it and focus on his charitable endeavors. This one is complicated. I know that doping is fairly common in competitive cycling, and I’ll wager that a lot of his less successful competitors were juicing as well. Rules are rules, and if he did cheat, I suppose the punishment fit’s the crime. If it can be proven. Is there indisputable proof he cheated? Perhaps. Dope or no dope, the guy was a winner in my book. He beat cancer and still remained competitive. His was such a great story: I guess I just don’t want to believe it‘s a lie. When cynicism becomes the norm, no one will dare to dream. Finally, first man on the moon Neil Armstrong has passed away. We thought it was a big step Neil.

Verse #1: “A year ago I didn’t know, didn’t have a clue what I was waiting for/ Passing time, imperfect rhymes, didn’t have a clue who I was writing for. Cho: And I’m telling you I love you, and I’m asking you to please consider me / Oh please, please Shauna Leigh, will you marry me?”

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2012 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED