Way to go, Zlati!

Posted on January 20, 2012 by hro50ta1

By Joel Thurtell

A friend gave me a ticket — free! — to the North American Auto Show.

Until the moment when I received the ticket, I had no plans to attend.

Parking, you know, is a pistol — and it ain’t free.

Then, of course, there’s lunch.

Expense it off!

joelontheroad will pay the bill!

Wait — there’s an idea.

JOTR could cover the car show!

But why?

Well, who knows?

Maybe I’ll run into that Detroit Free Press video star, Zlati Meyer.

Now, that would be a treat.

But no way would I want to follow her act.

She’s in what we used to call “the movies”!

Back in the day, when I myself was a Free Press reporter, I sat across an aisle from Zlati in the now-closed Free Press Oakland County office in Southfield.

I had no inkling then that Zlati would become a video sensation.

It doesn’t surprise me.

Never at a loss for words, and mostly witty ones, she was nevertheless toiling in the cage of daily news.

Cops and robbers.

Not a good fit.

If you sat within, say, 50 feet of Zlati’s desk, you could tell that cops briefs definitely were not the métier of this talented reporter who could not bridle her tongue.

You got a pretty good sketch of what was going on in Zlati’s life when you sat near her.

Zlati is definitely an East Coast gal.

I always thought her overview of Midwestern culture had a few gaps.

Gotta hand it to her —  she was trying to fill in the blanks.

For instance, there was the time Zlati decided to take her East Coast beau on what she deemed to be a typical Michigan outing.

Ice fishing.

Well, Zlati’s conception of what ice fishing might be.

In some alternate universe.

As a reporter from out-of-state, she may have gotten a somewhat warped view.

That view being that everyone in Michigan engages in the hallowed sport of sitting on his — yes HIS, not HERS!! — ass in a flimsy shack trying to stay warm and keep beer cold while watching a little flag called a tip-up that tells all Michiganders when a fish has taken bait under that hole that was cut in the ice inside the fishing shanty where fisherfolk try to keep warm while guzzling cold beer.

I grew up in Michigan, and the preceding sentence with redundancies and potential errors of fact sums up my knowledge of what goes on in the alleged sport of ice fishing.

A detailed knowledge of ice fishing would not, I hope, yield entry into my innermost being.

But a non-Michigan reporter assigned to cover this dual-peninsular state might be excused for thinking otherwise.

All of a sudden on late-winter days when there is a big thaw, news media are called upon to account for the idiotic behavior of ice fishermen.

Vehicles parked stupidly on ice get deep-sixed.

Men drinking beer are in danger of losing their lives as their chosen ice packs melt and six-packs vanish into open water.

Public safety agencies spend huge amounts of money saving the collective butts of morons too dim to understand that what freezes also melts.

Anyway, I suspect that was the image of ice fishermen that Zlati acquired as a non-Michigan reporter assigned to cover news in Michigan.

So, Zlati went to — I believe it was K-Mart — to purchase ice-fishing equipment.

As I recall, though, she was short on a few items that might have helped, such as warm clothing and a means of making a hole in the ice.

Not sure what she did about bait.

Worms definitely not Zlati’s schtick.

If I have the details wrong, please correct me, Zlati.

(I know you will!)

As I recall, there also was risk involved due to lack of experience in selecting a site to undertake the fishing experience.

In the end, the out-of-town guest may have acquired some wrong information about how ice-fishing is accomplished and hence how all of us Michiganders think.

But the story, as recounted by Zlati, was hilarous.

All the more so, because Zlati doesn’t spare her own ego when relating, blow by blow, all the muddle-headed details.

A very funny woman is Zlati Meyer, as her Free Press videos demonstrate.

Endowed with a great sensitivity to incongruity, Zlati takes that same eye for absurd detail and applies it to the North American International Auto Show.

What a treat!

Thank you, Zlati. I hope the Free Press keeps you on the laugh-a-second beat.

Now, whom of my large staff of reporters will I assign to cover the car show?

Not Pete Pizzicato, my music critic.

Not Melanie Munch, food writer.

Nor Ned Yardline, sports reporter.

Spike Kopee is on vacation (don’t tell the staff!)

I need Mary Typeset to read proof.

And Louis Littlefont, the professor, is an idiot.

Can’t imagine doing it myself, bucking traffic, paying to park and shelling out real money for lunch.

But if there’s no one else to go, what can I do?

Maybe I’ll run across Zlati.

Hey, I’ve got it:

Zlati could be my story!

 

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Why Republicans suck

Posted on January 19, 2012 by hro50ta1

By Joel Thurtell

Aren’t there some nice Republicans?

Are they all jerks?

Have you ever seen a group of people more bent on helping themselves and screwing everyone else?

This whole brou-ha-ha about Mitt Romney not releasing his tax returns brings Republican selfishness into focus.

Why is anyone surprised that The Mittster doesn’t want us to know how much money he hauls in and how little taxes he pays?

The Mittster and all his Republican rivals are living proof that the more people have, the more they want.

With his tax proposal, though, The Mittster could claim to be altruistic. He plans to cut the maximum tax rate from 35 percent to 25 percent affecting top earners. But since he pays only 15 percent, the giveaway would not affect him.

How generous.

He’s already got his.

Just wants to help his rich Republican pals get more of theirs.

As for the poor folk making less than $40,000, well, too bad.

They’ll have to pay more, since The Mittster wants to cut tax credits that now benefit low earners.

But really, what it’s all about is not earning at all.

The Mittster is not an earner.

He’s a taker.

His income, so he tells us, is taxed at the low rate of 15 percent because his money comes from investments.

Somehow, Republicans and plenty of Democrats have bought into the fantasy that people who clip coupons and ride on investments are more valuable to society than people who earn wages for working.

In the USA, it’s better to sit on your butt and live off unearned money than to punch a clock and do the things that might actually benefit society.

It’s called “working.”

What’s truly amazing about the Republicans, though, is their trust in our lack of memory about the recent past.

Remember last summer, when Republicans in the House of Representatives made a huge deal of increasing the national debt limit?

They played real brinkmanship, causing a downgrade of our national credit rating.

They thought it was cool to screw up our national credit rating to make a point.

Yet once they made their point, they forgot all about it.

And they hope we will forget, too.

The point for them was that the federal deficit, in their estimation, was too big.

Okay, got it.

There was even a compromise calling for huge cuts in spending to reduce the deficit.

That agreement won, the Republicans allowed the debt ceiling to be raised.

Now look at them.

Not only do they suck, but they are total amnesiacs.

They have forgotten, or more accurately, they pretend to have forgotten, that they held the entire welfare of our economy for ransom last summer because, so they claimed then, they did not like deficits.

Today, the GOP candidates have economic plans predicated on huge tax cuts.

What does The Mittster think it will do to the debt ceiling if he is elected and cuts more taxes on the rich?

The taxes he picks up from gouging the under-$40,000 wage earners won’t make up the difference.

According to The New York Times, The Mittster’s plan would add $1.2 trillion to the deficit in two years.

The Times, quoting a study by the Tax Policy Center, calculates that plans put out by candidates Newt Gingrich and Rick Santorum would add more than $1.2 trillion to the deficit in one year. (No calculations were made for projected results of Ron Paul’s plan to end the federal income tax.)

According to The Times:

By reducing the amount the federal government collects in taxes each year — at a time when federal tax collections are already a smaller share of the economy than they have been in more than half a century — the Republican tax plans will make it harder to balance the budget, said Robert L. Bixby, the executive director of the Concord Coalition, a nonprofit group that advocates fiscal responsibility.

This is the party that held us hostage last summer because they were so dead set against deficits.

Now, in their enthusiasm for giving their rich buddies and themselves huge new tax breaks and extending breaks that already sap federal revenues, you would think Republicans had totally forgotten the principles they trumpeted less than half a year ago.

It is that hypocrisy, that crass opportunism and pandering to the rich at the expense of the financial security of the country that makes me say the GOP sucks.

 

 

 

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Oliver Hazard Bigot

Posted on January 16, 2012 by hro50ta1

By Joel Thurtell

We’re into the bicentennial of the War of 1812, an ugly, misguided conflict that taught important lessons.

The Americans learned that it’s a lot easier to bluster about conquering another country than to actually invade and take it over.

Conquering Canada was a chief goal of the War of 1812, and despite lots of lives lost and money spent, the United States failed to seize our northern neighbor and place our borders around it.

The British learned from the war, too: Those Americans they at first deemed weak and inept proved they had a navy that could mortify British seamanship and — between regular US Navy operations and privateering — force the vainglorious Brits to reckon with American sea power.

There were lessons about race and white stereotypes about blacks, too.

Because today is Martin Luther King Day, I’d like to mention an episode about which I just learned, thanks to a fine book I’m reading — 1812: The Navy’s War, by George C. Daughan.

Oliver Hazard Perry, an energetic master commandant whose father, Christopher Raymond Perry, was a naval hero in the Revolutionary War and in the Quasi-War with France in 1798, joined the Navy as a midshipman when he was 13, and so had served in the Navy half his life by the time he became a hero in his own right by clearing the British off Lake Erie on September 10, 1813.

Perry was in competition for scarce naval stores and personnel on the Great Lakes with Commodore Isaac Chauncey, who was trying to establish US supremacy on Lake Ontario. Chauncey controlled the flow of men and goods to Perry.

On July 16, 1813, a contingent of sailors sent by Chauncey and led by Perry’s nephew, Sailing Master Steven Champlain, arrived at Presque Isle, Perry’s base on Lake Erie. Perry was furious. He was convinced Chauncey was holding back his best men and sending the dregs to him. He wrote to Chauncey, complaining that the 60 men Chauncey had just sent were “a motley set, blacks, soldiers, and boys.”

From his own ship on Lake Ontario, the General Pike, Chauncey wrote back: “I have yet to learn that the color of the skin, or cut and trimmings of the coat, can affect a man’s qualifications or usefulness. I have nearly 50 blacks on board of this ship and many of them are amongst my best men.”

It was not black sailors who nearly brought about Perry’s defeat in that battle with a British fleet commanded by Robert Barclay.

Rather, a white officer, Jesse Elliott, commanding the USS Niagara, failed to bring his ship into combat while Perry on the USS Lawrence was being battered to smithereens by Barclay’s superior force.

Perry got into a small boat and rowed to the Niagara, replacing Elliott and sailing the ship into battle with the British. Possibly Elliott was jealous of Perry. His behavior nearly caused the Americans to lose.

Victory on Lake Erie meant the Americans could easily transport men and arms through the Old Northwest, while the British were forced to move over land.

Control over Lake Erie led to victories by General Harrison and defeat of Britain’s Indian allies.

Daughan doesn’t tell us whether Perry learned any lesson about racial prejudice from this exchange.

But he notes that one-quarter of the men who fought under Perry in the Battle of Put-In Bay were black.

Were the black sailors fighting with Chancey and Perry slaves or free men?

Daughan doesn’t ask or answer that question.

When I think of 19th-century blacks in the military, I think of black troops in the Civil War.

Who were these black sailors on the Great Lakes?

How many of the salt-water Navy men were black?

Were there black seamen about USS Constitution when the big American frigate defeated HMS Guerriere and HMS Java?

Or USS United States in that frigate’s victory over HMS Macedonian?

Daughan found the Perry-Chauncey letters in William Dudley’s Naval War of 1812, Vol. II, pp. 529-31. He doesn’t give a source for his statement that one-quarter of Perry’s crews were black.

No doubt about it: The valiant efforts of Perry’s sailors, including many black seamen, enabled Perry to send General William Henry Harrison the news:

“We have met the enemy and they are ours: two ships, two brigs, one schooner and one sloop.”

 

 

 

 

 

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Tomatoes and eggs

Posted on January 16, 2012 by hro50ta1

Slaves owned by William Macomb. Burton Historical Collection. Joel Thurtell photo

By Joel Thurtell

Back when I was writing for the Detroit Free Press, I found some of my most interesting stories on Grosse Ile, the big island in the Detroit River that was purchased from Indians on July 6, 1776 by the brothers Alexander and William Macomb.

All I had to do was show up in the old train depot, now the island museum, and chat with members of the Grosse Ile Historical Society. I’d hear fascinating stories about the Civil War general who lived on the island, or about how the first outboard motor was tested at the island.

The fun ended on a nasty note, though, after I reviewed the society’s book about the history of their island.

Today being Martin Luther King Day, it seems like a good time to write about a subject that was made taboo by the custodians of Grosse Ile history.

Inventory of William Macomb’s slaves. Burton Historical Collection, Detroit Public Library, Joel Thurtell photo.

This has to do with race and slavery.

Not too many people are aware that Michigan, like other Northern states, had its share of slaves.

That’s right — the “peculiar institution” was not confined only to the South.

I wrote about slavery on Grosse Ile for the Free Press, and with my story, we published my photo of an inventory of property belonging to William Macomb at the time of his death in 1796.

Among the pieces of property listed were 26 human beings.

Some of those slaves lived and worked on Grosse Ile.

Charlotte, wife of Jerry, slaves of William Macomb. Burton Historical Collection, Detroit Public Library, Joel Thurtell photo.

The Grosse Ile history people were planning a photographic history of their island. I offered to let them reprint my photos of the inventory. Or they could go to the Burton Historical Collection at the Detroit Public Library and take their own pictures.

They were enthusiastic about mentioning slavery on Grosse Ile.

Months passed, and I heard no more from Grosse Ile.

One day, I was browsing in Magina Books, a used book store in Lincoln Park. The owner, Steve Magina, remarked that the Grosse Ile historians were getting ready to bring out their history book.

Odd. You’d think they’d let me know.

When I wrote about Lincoln Park’s photo history book, my Free Press story inspired lots of sales, according to Steve.

Could it be the Grosse Ile historians were embarrassed at having suppressed the slavery issue?

When I found out what they’d done, I criticized their decision to censor part of the island’s history.

The Grosse Ile Historical Society was not pleased.

In an e-mail, a member told her compatriots that the next time I showed my face in their museum, they should greet me with “tomatoes and eggs.”

Maybe instead of throwing tomatoes and eggs, the guardians of Grosse Ile history might look hard at their motives for trying to hide a well-documented part of their history.

I’m reprinting my story with permission of the Detroit Free Press:

Headline: PART OF THE STORY ISN’T BEING TOLD

 

Sub-Head: BOOK ON GROSSE ILE DOESN’T MENTION HISTORY OF SLAVERY

 

Byline:  BY JOEL THURTELL

 

Pub-Date: 9/2/2007

 

Memo:  DOWNRIVER; SIDEBAR ATTACHED

 

Correction:

 

Text: I recently received a copy of the Grosse Ile Historical

Society’s new photographic history, “Grosse Ile.”

 

I’m sure the book will be very interesting to islanders. The society

unearthed many photos that have never been published or displayed. A

teenage boy around the turn of the 20th Century took dozens of photos,

some of which are in the book  that was published on Aug. 20.

 

There are nine chapters spanning the earliest history of the big

island through the days of the Naval Air Station. But one chapter is

missing: It’s the one about slavery on Grosse Ile.

 

It’s amazing to me that there could be an entire chapter on the Macomb

family, whose ancestors bought the island from Indians on July 6,

1776, and not one mention of slavery. If you’re going to mention the

Macombs, you have to mention slavery. Slavery was an integral part of

the business and family life of the Macombs who first settled Grosse

Ile.

 

Earlier this year, after conversations with researchers for the book –

done by Arcadia Publishing of Charleston, S.C. – I assumed the book

would take on this sensitive subject. I was impressed. It’s the sort

of thing many people would consider a black mark in their community’s

history, yet it appeared that the Grosse Ile historians were going to

come to honest terms with their past.

 

I asked the book’s editor, Sarah Lawrence, if the book dealt with

slavery. “No,” she said, “You know, from all we could find out, there

just wasn’t anything to get into. There are a few rumors of tunnels

that may have been there, and slaves may have been given refuge before

they were able to move them over to Canada.”

 

There’s a bit more to it than that. William and Alexander Macomb were

the largest island landowners in the 18th Century. William lived in

Detroit during the winter and lived on the island in a “mansion house”

in the summer. The big house was run by a woman named Charlotte.

 

Charlotte was a slave. How do I know this?  Isabella Swan wrote about

it in her history of Grosse Ile, “The Deep Roots.”

 

According to Swan, “Charlotte had been with the Macombs as early as

1788.” In the early 1790s, Charlotte was in charge of the Macomb house

on Grosse Ile, according to Swan. She may have been boss in the house,

but she was still property. When William Macomb died in 1796,

Charlotte was listed with her husband, Jerry, and 24 other human

beings in an “Estimation of the Slaves of the late William Macomb”

along with livestock, tools and furniture as objects to be sold.

 

You can see the inventory of Macomb property at the Detroit Public

Library’s Burton Historical Collection. Alongside their names were

estimates of their value in New York  currency. Swan mentioned other

instances of slavery on Grosse Ile. I photographed parts of the

documents that mention slaves for a story about slavery on Grosse Ile

that ran in the Free Press  Jan. 21.

 

I thought the historical society was going to acknowledge that Grosse

Ile played a role in slavery. It was an opportunity to be forthright,

a chance to honestly confront an unsavory part of our past.

 

I talked to Denise deBeausset for that January 2007 story. She’s a

descendant of William Macomb and still lives on the island. “No, I

wasn’t aware of them having slaves at all,” she said. “Nobody ever

talks about it on our side. I wonder if it was out of embarrassment or

if it wasn’t politically correct. Nobody ever talks about slaves.”

 

They’re still not talking about them. Is it embarrassment? Or just

not politically correct?

 

Edition: METRO FINAL

 

Section:  CFP; COMMUNITY FREE PRESS

 

Page: 3CV

 

Keywords: history

 

Disclaimer:  THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION MAY DIFFER SLIGHTLY FROM THE

PRINTED

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Straight up, up UP!!

Posted on January 16, 2012 by hro50ta1

joelontheroad in back seat of navy F/A-18 June 6, 1991

By Joel Thurtell

A reporter for The New York Times got lucky.

C.J. Chivers put his bragging rights into the dateline of his January 16, 2012 Times story:

INSIDE STRIKE FIGHTER VENGEANCE 13

Chivers got one of those rare chances to hitch a ride in a US Navy fighter jet, and you can tell by the way Chivers wrote the story — all out, on afterburner — that the ride affected him.

joelontheroad in F/A-18 cockpit before flight

I know how it feels.

When I drove back to the office on June 6, 1991 from Willow Run Airport, you would have thought I had two General Electric jet engines thrusting me down Interstate 94.

What a rush!

Chivers describes flying at 620 mph over the hills of Afghanistan.

The terrain was not quite so exotic for me. But my pilot hit 650 — no sound barrier breaking please!

In those days, most F/A-18s were single-seaters, with the pilot both flying and running weapons systems. Today’s F/A-18F Super Hornets, it appears from Chivers’ story, are two-seaters with a weapons operator in the back seat.

Or a reporter.

For the air show at Willow Run in June 1991, one of the flight of Hornets had a second seat to accommodate a crew chief who flew in with the lead pilot to look check out safety issues at the airport.

The Navy was not about to waste that second seat. Offers were sent to area newspapers, TV and radio stations. The Navy would give one ride each to a reporter from print, radio and TV outlets.

My editor asked me if I wanted to go.

Kidding?

Here, reprinted with permission of the Detroit Free Press,  are my impressions from the most spectacular ride I’ve ever had:

Headline: JET PILOT PUSHES PASSENGER TO THE LIMIT

Sub-Head:

Byline:  JOEL THURTELL FREE PRESS STAFF WRITER

Pub-Date: 6/7/1991

Memo:

Correction:

Text: Afterburners blasting, the blue and yellow jet lifted its long, curved nose
and shot straight up into the sky.

“That’s what you’ll be doing,” somebody said. “Nervous?”

Hell, yes, I was nervous.  At 3 a.m. I’d popped out of sleep thinking:
Today I ride a Navy F/A18 Hornet attack fighter, doing stunts the Navy’s Blue
Angels aerobatic team will perform this weekend at Willow Run Airport.
I  found my pilot, Marine Capt. Ken Switzer, nonchalantly munching a roast
beef sandwich, onion rings and french fries. My peanut butter and jelly
sandwich was still in my car. For good reason.
Minutes  later, the canopy locks over our heads and we roar down the
runway. Nose almost straight up. Thirty-two thousand pounds of push directly
under my back. All I see is clear blue sky.
And here come  the G’s — all five of them. I’ve been told what to do so I
won’t black out.
“Stand by, stand by. Pull!”
I grab two steel grips beside me on the canopy, lift forward and yell.
“Haaaaaaaaaaaa!”
I strain against the gravity that forces me backward. We level off.
Hey, that wasn’t bad. Bad?  What a ride!
Over the heads of cows and chickens in Jackson County, Switzer holds an
impromptu  air show. Nose up, then let her fall.
I float in my straps, weightless.
“Zero-G,” says Switzer. “That’s how the astronauts feel all the time.”
Nose up, pressure hard on whole body. Cheeks  sag. Lips pull down.
Pressure, pressure. I strain, pull myself up by the handles and shout.
Haaaaaahhhhh!
“That was six G’s,” Switzer said. “Want more?”
“No, thanks.”
“Want to go  fast?”
You bet. At 10,000 or so feet, we breeze along at 650 mph beside fluffy
white clouds with flat gray bellies.
Suddenly, all is white. We pop through the white roof. The jet skims along
with its belly in vapor. Our heads ride a few feet above the fluff.
We speed up, tipping sharply to race around a cloud. Then the G’s hit.
Pull! Haaahhh! A grayness sneaks through the left side  of the canopy. As we
straighten out, I feel euphoric, as if waking from a pleasant dream. Gravity
was pushing blood from my brain, but I didn’t black out.
Nose down, we slice through clouds, dropping  2,000 feet in seconds.
“We fly upside down a lot at air shows, and we do it fairly low,” Switzer
says.
Oh, boy. I knew he’d do this. Knew it. But not this low. At 2,500 feet and
400 mph, he  flips the Hornet on its back. I dangle from my seat straps. The
canopy’s inches below my face. Below, light green squares and black blobs —
fields and woods — flash toward us and disappear.
My  shoulder pushes the straps. Up is down. Or down is up.
Over the intercom, Switzer explains that carrier planes like the F/A18 shed
speed for landing by making a steep, rolling turn.
Five G’s  shove me back and keep shoving.  From somewhere far off I hear
myself. Haaahhh!!
Canopy and sky vanish. Darkness falls over me. My blackout lasts only a
split second. Fragments of light and dark reassemble into a picture of the
sky. My mind seeps back into the cockpit, reuniting with my body.
Going back to Detroit, I have little patience for the mortals creeping
along I-94. I swerve and  pass them as if they are gray-bellied clouds.

Caption:

Willow Run Airport fire fighter Al Lake hoses down jet fuel
from around a Blue Angels F/A18 Hornet on Wednesday.
Walt Pierce of Sebring, Fla.,  wipes grease from the belly of
his Stearman N2S, which will be used in this weekend’s air
show.

Illustration:  PHOTO JOEL THURTELL

Edition: METRO FINAL

Section:  NWS

Page: 1B

Keywords: ; AIRPLANE;  DFREEPRESS;  JOEL THURTELL;  WILLOW RUN AIRPORT

Disclaimer:

Posted in Flying, From My Files, Joel's J School | Tagged , , , | 1 Comment

Billing Matty

Posted on January 14, 2012 by hro50ta1

Sue, Scrue & Gowge

Attorneys at Law

1 One Street

Detroit, MI 48226

CONFIDENTIAL!!!

To: All partners and associates

Re: Latest client fee schedule

Note that hourly rates for most clients have not changed. They will remain ipso facto at the current rate of $1,000 per hour for consultation, research, telephone calls and general nose-picking.

However, news reports suggest that a prominent Detroit area billionaire may be shopping for a new law firm.

Let us repeat: BILLIONAIRE!!!

Deep pockets!!!

Let us repeat:

DEEP POCKETS!!!!!

Mansions in Grosse Pointe!!!

Bloomfield Hills!!!

Villas in France!!!

Ocean-going yachts!!!

Therefore, if this person or representatives from this person should contact the firm, a new set of fee guidelines is to be posted at all public places in the office, namely above, below and around the primary and secondary water coolers.

Res ipse loquitur.

This action is to be done as quickly and surreptitiously as possible.

Not only does this potential client represent the possibility of gigantic numbers of billable hours.

But this potential client also represents a guaranteed GIANT PAIN IN THE ASS!!!

What we will have with this client is a stretching of possible legal remedies to a level not just bordering on, but actually EXCEEDING the escape velocity of a Saturn rocket with a payload of — to be polite — sewage.

Beware: Veteran members of the bar have retched upon hearing the enormity of the (shall we say) fictions this potential client will demand his law firm to endorse.

Quod erat demonstrandum!

Keep in mind that if you believe your client’s lies, then the attorney him or herself is not per se or in se a liar.

Mansions!!!

Bloomfield Hills!!!

Villas!!!

France!!!

Yachts!!!

Therefore, QED, we will be justified in extorting humongous wads of cash from this potential client if he should materialize.

The hourly rate for billing this potential client ergo will be fixed at $10,000 per hour.

No, actually, res gestae, $10,000 shall be the MINIMUM billable rate for this client.

In other words, the SKY shall be the only LIMIT.

The name of this potential client is:

Mxxxxx Mxxxxx

(Name deleted for client confidentiality)

However, to be clear, should this potential sugar daddy appear, here is what he looks like:

M**** M***** Photo by Joel Thurtell.

Correction: The hourly rate posted above was in error and should actually be $5,000 per hour for general nose-picking.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Fun while it lasted

Posted on January 14, 2012 by hro50ta1

Matty Moroun in court January 12, 2012. Photo by Joel Thurtell.

By Joel Thurtell

Matty’s out of stir.

It was great to see this arrogant, rich SOB led off to the hoosegow.

I was astounded that it actually happened.

Normally, Matty and his legion of lawyers stall and squirm and twist so long they wear their opponents down.

If he can only keep the clock running, his chances of having his way, of somehow changing the game by throwing wads of money at the board, will never wholly disappear.

Wayne County Circuit Judge Prentis Edwards. Photo by Joel Thurtell.

I assume by today, January 14, 2012, Matty is back in his Grosse Pointe Farms mansion eating a sumptuous breakfast and chuckling over that silly judge who thought he could pin down a wily billionaire.

It’s a new day for Matty.

The Michigan Court of Appeals ordered his release late Friday afternoon, January 13, 2012.

Matty’s chief henchman and fall guy, Dan “The Rubber” Stamper, also was to be released from the Wayne County Jail.

A day earlier, Wayne County Circuit Judge Prentis Edwards ordered the pair jailed until they could satisfy him that they were complying with his nearly two-year-old order to stick to the construction timetable and work projects in their contract with the Michigan Department of Transportation for improving vehicular approaches to Matty’s Ambassador Bridge.

Rather than progress toward the agreed-upon goals, the judge  was seeing a huge stalling action backed up by bullshit from those lawyers of Matty’s.

Maybe two years seemed like no time to an 84-year-old trucking mogul.

Apparently, it seemed a wee bit unresponsive to the judge.

After listening to lengthy arguments from lawyers for Matty and The Rubber about why the two should not be shipped to the crapper, Edwards sent them off to be finger-printed and issued their jail suits.

Now that he’s had a taste of jail fare — chicken steak rather than the baloney sandwich I had hoped for — will Matty set his minions to work and do what MDOT wants done?

Namely, tear down his lucrative duty-free store and gas pumps to make way for ramps leading from highways to the bridge?

Or will Matty’s new-found freedom — and his legal crew’s success at springing him so quickly — prompt Matty to sit back, relax and pursue his old behavior of stalling and blowing smoke?

My guess?

The judge said it best: Coercion is the language Matty speaks.

Coercion is the only language Matty understands.

How will those ramps get finished?

One way: with Matty behind bars.

Next time, feed him a baloney sandwich!

Drop me a line at joelthurtell@gmail.com

 

 

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Matty to the hoosegow

Posted on January 12, 2012 by hro50ta1

Matty Moroun. Photo by Joel Thurtell.

By Joel Thurtell

As I write this, a billionaire is eating a baloney sandwich, courtesy of the Wayne County Jail.

And I have a new hero.

I’m not sure about the baloney sandwich, but I saw Matty Moroun disappear through a door at the back of Room 913 of the Wayne County Circuit Court this morning after Judge Prentis Edwards ordered the trucking and bridge mogul jailed along with his chief henchmen, Dan “The Rubber” Stamper.

Matty and The Rubber are to keep eating baloney till they finish work they agreed to do on Matty’s Ambassador Bridge.

Wayne County Circuit Judge Prentis Edwards. Photo by Joel Thurtell.

A flock of personal and corporate lawyers could not persuade the judge to soften his sanctions against the bridge owner and the president of the Detroit International Bridge Company.

It was an amazing scene.

One after another, lawyers for Matty and The Rubber argued that their boys should not be sent to stir.

Why, poor Matty is 84 years old. The poor old guy should not suffer such an indignity as living in a jail cell till he cleans up his act.

The judge was not moved.

After the judge ordered the pair jailed, I watched a uniformed Wayne County sheriff’s deputy standing beside Matty to make sure he knew the way out of court was not going to be home to his Grosse Pointe mansion.

It made me think of another scene — the time on September 22, 2008 when one of Matty’s shotgun totin’ goons, aka security guard, tried to arrest me and forced me out of a city park. After I blogged about my experience, I heard from others who’d been bullied by Matty’s hooligans. I also discovered that the “Homeland Security” signs Matty had posted on a chain-link fence were phony and the property he fenced in was actually park land belonging to the city of Detroit’s Riverside Park.

More than three years later, Matty is still tying a different Wayne County Circuit Court in knots over a simple eviction procedure.

Anyone who’s watched Matty knows that if he doesn’t get his way, he’ll flood the land with lawsuits, postponing to a very indefinite future any consequences that might blow back to him.

Almost two years ago, Judge Edwards held Matty in contempt and ruled that he was not complying with his contract with the Michigan Department of Transportation to complete infrastructure improvements to the bridge approach.

Instead, Matty had built a lucrative gas station and duty free store where ramps were supposed to go.

The judge ordered the store and gas pumps removed.

Matty fiddled around.

His lawyers — he has plenty of them — filed lawsuit after lawsuit.

Judge Edwards considered what sanctions he might bring to bear.

The most he could fine Matty in civil court is $7,500.

He thought of hiring an outside contractor to finish the work.

He thought of having Matty’s insurance company do the job.

He thought of appointing a receiver to take over the project.

By now, the judge knows Matty.

If he had ordered any one of those options, Matty would have filed lawsuit after lawsuit.

The case would have gone on till the end of time.

Meanwhile, the citizens of Michigan for whom the approach improvements were being made would not get what they paid taxes for.

Enough was enough, the judge said.

Judge Edwards used the word “coercion.”

Since Matty and his minions won’t willingly do what they agreed to do, they must be forced to obey the law.

“Coercion” is an interesting word.

I thought of what Matty did to me when I visited Riverside Park in 2008.

I had every right to be there.

I was taking pictures, and I had a right to do that, too.

But Matty’s thug, with a shotgun sitting in the seat next to him, ordered me to stop taking pictures. He ordered me off public park land. I took his picture. When he tried to arrest me, I headed back to my car. He ordered me to stop. He was holding me for the border patrol, he said.

All of these acts — forbidding me taking pictures, ordering me off park land, trying to detain me — were coercive acts. They were backed up by that shotgun.

This was all Matty, acting through his hired gun.

What this tells me is that Matty understands coercion.

He has designs on Riverside Park. Without that park land he stole, he can’t build a new bridge to Canada.

If Matty wants something, being a billionaire, he assumes it already belongs to him.

Mostly, his presumption of possession before the fact works.

It may still work in the eviction case involving Riverside Park.

But Judge Edwards also understands Matty.

The judge knows that Matty only understands force.

Coercion.

Hiring a contractor, assigning a receiver or having an insurance company try to finish the bridge approach an invitation for Matty to whine endlessly through his lawyers.

Send him to jail.

Feed him a baloney sandwich.

Don’t let him out till the work is done.

When will that be?

I heard an MDOT official say the job could be finished by next fall.

Hey, Matty!

That’s a lot of baloney sandwiches!

Drop me a line at joelthurtell@gmail.com

 

 

 

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Will Matty show?

Posted on January 11, 2012 by hro50ta1

By Joel Thurtell

Wanta put on a play —  cheap?

You can blow a lot of money in theater.

But there’s a stage for hire at 2 Woodward Avenue in Detroit.

Real cheap.

For $150 — a hundred fifty smackers! — you can rent a hall.

Your play can last however long it needs.

What kind of deal is that?

Pretty damned good!

The theater is called Wayne County Circuit Court.

Try to rent a theater anywhere in Metro Detroit for that price.

Good luck!

A few downsides:

Court theater doesn’t serve dinner.

They don’t sell tickets.

If there’s a hot show, better get there early and be ready to stand in line.

And some of the stages are pretty cramped.

They call them “venues.”

Judge Prentis Edwards’ 9th-floor venue is really, really small.

Seating is limited.

But the audience for the play tomorrow, January 12, 2012, is pretty well assured.

This story is hot.

Question is, Will the star performer, aka witness, show up?

That would be Manuel “Matty” Moroun, billionaire non-owner of the Ambassador Bridge.

Well, actually, he IS the bridge’s owner, after all.

The Big Man tried to squirm out of showing up in court by claiming he isn’t really the bridge’s owner.

That didn’t fly with the Michigan Court of Appeals, which affirmed Judge Edwards’ command for Matty to show up tomorrow.

The appeals court told Matty he puts his pants on one leg at a time like the rest of humanity.

His billionaire status and Grosse Pointe mansion don’t buy him out of court.

Still, I’m told The Great Man will find a way to shirk his court appearance.

Does he think it demeans him?

Actually, yes, I think he believes he is some kind of Übermensch.

That his enormous wealth buys him a different set of rules.

What are the odds that Matty will be a no-show?

I googled “betting line Matty Moroun.”

Couldn’t find odds on Matty’s showing up in court.

What happens if Matty fails to appear?

If this were just a traffic ticket, I suppose the judge might simply assess fines and costs against Matty and mail a bill to his Grosse Pointe mansion.

But this is about Matty’s repeated refusal to do what the judge repeatedly has ordered him to do.

Last year, Judge Edwards briefly jailed Matty’s gofer, Dan “Rubber” Stamper, president of the Detroit International Bridge Company that operates the Ambassador Bridge that Matty most certainly owns.

Judge Edwards put Rubber Stamper in jail to get his and Matty’s attention.

A year later, Rubber and Matty still aren’t complying with the judge’s order.

So, if Matty doesn’t show tomorrow, would you bet the judge will simply mail him a letter listing his fines?

Flip the discussion around.

What if Matty DOES show up?

Well, if the judge thinks Matty’s blowing billows of smoke at him, he could do to The Big Man what he did to Rubber Stamper: Let him cool his heels in jail.

This is exactly what Matty doesn’t want.

Rich guys don’t spend time in stir!

Just ask Al Taubman!

Matty KNOWS he could go to the slammer.

That’s why he claimed not to own his bridge.

So, if Matty’s afraid the judge will jail him if he shows, what does he think the judge will do if he fails to appear?

Bottom line for us journalists:

If Matty shows, he’s a story.

If Matty blows, well, he’s still a story.

Drop me a line at joelthurtell(at)gmail.com

 

 

 

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A bridge too far — my shopping mall

Posted on January 11, 2012 by hro50ta1

By Joel Thurtell

Doggonit!

There goes my plan for a shopping mall on Detroit’s Ambassador Bridge.

The Michigan Court of Appeals put my hopes on the skids with its ruling January 10, 2012, that billionaire Manuel “Matty” Moroun must show up in Wayne County Circuit Court so Judge Prentis Edwards can levy penalties for Matty’s refusal to comply with the judge’s order to get rid of a duty-free store and gas pumps that line his pockets with cash but defy his agreement with the state to improve the vehicular approach to the bridge in Detroit.

Matty’s lawyers said The Big Man shouldn’t have to appear in court because he doesn’t really own the bridge.

Matty claimed the bridge is really owned by family members through a holding company.

Since he’s not the owner, why should he have to show up in court like any other citizen summoned by a judge? Come on — he’s a billinonaire!

A lot of people made fun of Matty, because his claim to not be the bridge’s owner seemed self-serving and downright absurd.

Silly, really.

Well, that’s how it appeared to others.

It seemed reasonable to me, because I saw my golden opportunity.

If Matty claims not to own the bridge, and the idea that it’s really owned by a holding company is ludicrous, then who really owns the Ambassador Bridge?

Me!

Come on, why not me?

It makes sense.

Why, unlike Matty, I have a brilliant plan.

Well, HAD a plan.

I was going to turn the Ambassador Bridge into a pedestrian shopping mall.

Who better qualified than me for such a grand project?

I know something about these bridge shopping areas.

I grew up in Lowell, Michigan, where there has been a shopping district on the Main Street Bridge, aka M-21, since the 1800s.

I call it Lowell’s Ponte Vecchio, after the shopping mall bridge in Florence, Italy, that dates to the Middle Ages.

QED: I’m the guy to run this project.

But the appeals court pulled the bridge out from under me.

By ordering Matty to show up in court, the judges signaled that they didn’t buy the billionaire’s claim not to own the bridge.

With Matty revealed as the true owner after all, my big idea is dead in the water.

I can see it now, floating downstream, another dream swept away by the current of pettifoggery.

But not all is lost.

Now that he’s back in the saddle as Ambassador Bridge owner, maybe Matty will see the light.

Tomorrow in court, he could tell the judge he never meant to stall the state.

That duty-free store and those gas pumps he put where the access ramp is supposed to go?

First steps in creating the biggest international shopping mall bridge in the world!

Who knows, maybe the judge will buy that line.

It makes more sense than Matty not owning the Ambassador.

Drop me a line at joelthurtell@gmail.com

 

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