The Oppenheimer Report 2/8/10

Well, it’s that time of year again, when we put our collective, misguided faith in a fat rodent to predict when winter will end. This year, I feel honor bound to at least touch on the absurdity of this custom, and on the shenanigans that yearly accompany it. I don’t know where the time has gone; it seemed like only yesterday that I was freezing my tuchas off. Wait a minute, that WAS yesterday! I don’t need some fat rat jiving me into thinking that this misery will soon be over. The other day, I heard something on the news that made me chuckle. Apparently, there is a new animal rights controversy brewing, this time involving groundhogs. The all knowing, all-feeling folks over at PETA (People who Excel at Thinking Abnormally) have decided that the whole Groundhog Day thing is traumatizing to Punxatawny Phil, America’s most famous groundhog celebrity. The PETArds (hey, sue me, I’m not the White House Press Secretary) are suggesting that Phil be replaced with a robotic counterpart, reasoning that the Groundhog Day ceremony is traumatic. With all those cameras flashing and people screaming, some suggest that all this fanfare is cruel and unsettling to the groundhog. You know what else is cruel and unsettling? Mother Nature! I concede that there is potential for animal abuse here, and groundhog handlers have been known to drop the ball. I remind you of Canada’s big groundhog scandal five or ten years ago, “Wiarton Willliegate,” wherein the town fathers of Wiarton, Ontario, accidentally murdered Willie, their albino groundhog weather animal, under suspicious circumstances. I can’t remember all the details, but there was a big cover up. Documents were shredded, drugs and alcohol were involved, child pornography was found on the deceased groundhog’s computer; it was a mess. Are we taking advantage of poor defenseless creatures here? I think not. I believe some of the responsibility lies with the animals themselves. I still maintain that Willie was a crack head. Phil has been perfectly willing to accept his town financed, solar-heated, cable-ready hibernation chamber, along with all the perks and endorsements associated with being America’s most popular groundhog weather forecaster, including but not limited to a monthly $500 credit at Whole Foods, and part ownership of a local carrot farm. If, in the course of his forecasting duties, he is forced to endure some of the indignities of celebrity, well, suck it up mister! If some drug-addled spectator, unhappy with the prospect of more than six weeks of winter should hurl a beer bottle at our furry rodent messenger, shrug it off. It happens to rock stars all the time. You should try being a weatherman in Buffalo … those guys constantly get death threats and abuse … You don’t hear any of them complaining.




Toyota was always considered to be one of the best automakers, so what happened? Problems with the accelerators on some of their vehicles have prompted a major recall and I just heard that the Japanese automaker has suffered over $1 Billion in lost sales because of the problem. Ouch. I’d still rather have a Toyota than one of those overpriced stool softeners on wheels that GM for so many years produced.



Last night, The New Orleans Saints beat the unstoppable Peyton Manning and the Indianapolis Colts 31-17 in Superbowl XLIV, whatever number that is. Though I didn’t have a favorite going into the game, I think the Saints were the underdogs and, coupled with all the challenges that New Orleans has faced since Hurricane Katrina practically washed it off the map, I’m glad they came from behind to win so decisively. I watched The Who perform during the halftime show, and they sounded pretty good. I’m not a big Who fan, but I really like the “Who’s Next” and “Quadraphenia” albums. It‘s funny, because the other night I watched about fifteen minutes of a Who concert filmed at the Isle of Wight concert back in the Seventies. I think they sounded better last night. Back in 1977 when I was still “in university” as the Canadians say, I drove from Hartford Connecticut to Boston to see The Who perform. After waiting an awfully long time for them to come on, I heard them play one song, and then announce that they could not play anymore because wild man (and soon to be deceased) drummer Keith Moon “had the flu”. Moon was so drunk and wasted that he could hardly hold his drum sticks. I think he even threw up on his drum set, although we were too far away to see. The Boston audience was not amused, and there was a near riot. While there was a makeup concert scheduled, I never did get to see them perform live. Having watched some of the Isle of Wight concert, I’m not that disappointed. I guess Keith Moon and “Wiarton Willie” have something in common .

I can’t say it enough … showbiz ain’t pretty.



Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2010 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED