Outside the 415 area code, our entire nation is gripped with presidential-candidate fever. Those already shaking hands round the country include our very own Pete "Sore Throat" Wilson, Phil Gramm, former Reagan lackey Alan Keyes, Arlen "It's Gotta Be Oswald" Specter, Lamar Alexander, Pat Buchanan, Dick Lugar and "B-1 Bob" Dornan -- in the case of Bob Dole, shaking hand. Dornan is the most interesting by far. He claims that by not going to Vietnam, Bill Clinton "gave aid and comfort to the enemy." Who exactly is Dornan giving aid and comfort to, besides maybe American Legion Post 129?
All in all, it's shaping up to be a fine field of professional liars, both nationwide and here in this city of broken freeways. We should be tired of them by next week.
Lost and Found
The Carroll's Books sandwich board on the corner of 24th and Noe announces: "King Louis IX 1214-1270 was the only French king to be nursed by his own mother" ... Bill Bonham reports that the Red Lion restaurant in Sacramento proudly offers the "Donner Pass" room as part of its banquet facilities. Our specials today include rump roast and lady-fingers ....
The following are excerpts from a "Catholics for Truth & Justice" flier, titled "Why Catholics Think Priest Unfair," found inside the Lumiere theater:
"... Michael Medved, author and nationally renowned movie critic, has said of Priest, 'The film displays the most profound hostility to the Catholic Church that I have seen in the last 15 years of reviewing movies.'
"The Catholic Church is not perfect. Its prelates are not all saints. Some priests are alcoholics, some have violated celibacy, some exchange ambition for priestly zeal and some are forbiddingly morose. But, as Catholics, we recognize this behavior as sinful. We do not condone and glorify it. We condemn it. We pray that those who stray will find their way back by following the example of Jesus Christ.
"To the makers of Priest we say, if you have a quarrel with what Catholics believe, do us the favor of robust, frank debate. Don't insult our intelligence by suggesting that because the path to sanctity is arduous, it is really unattainable by ordinary men and women or only attainable by ascetic masochists."In other words, don't make a movie about us unless we give you the high sign.
I Sue You, You Sue Me
As survivors of the senseless July 1993 shootings at 101 California pursue lawsuits against the manufacturer of the Navegar TEC-DC9 assault weapon used by psycho killer Gian Luigi Ferri, Los Angeles attorney Ernest Getto says the decision by San Francisco Superior Court Judge James L. "My Grandfather Invented the Lone Nut Theory!" Warren to allow such lawsuits may be used against the manu-facturer of "any product that could be used lethally." This is already happening. A U.S. judge recently granted class-action status to an anti-tobacco lawsuit brought by three smokers and a smoker's widow.
But what about Jaegermeister? Isn't its sole purpose a lethal one? And consider the tin can on wheels known as a 1969 Toyota Corona. Not exactly a safe ride. Someone could even eat too much lentil soup and get sick. Or sharp corners -- maybe someone should sue the Formica tabletop manufacturers for designing such deadly material as part of our nation's kitchens.
It's surprising that the assault-weapon lawsuit stopped just as the idea was picking up momentum. Why not sue the security staff who let this well-armed guy into the building? Obviously a case of negligence there. Or how about the manufacturer of the elevator in which he rode? Shouldn't there be some sort of passenger monitoring system? Say, maybe we should sue members of the legal profession for contributing to a public persona that could be conducive to provoking such an attack. If lawyers acted in better faith, nobody would want to kill them. And perhaps the largest gold mine was completely overlooked. When searching Ferri's apartment after the shootings, a copy of Donald Trump's Art of the Deal was found on the nightstand. Talk about provocation.
The biggest lesson to be learned here? Don't shoot up a law firm. You'll never hear the end of it.
Address all correspondence to: Slap Shots, c/o SF Weekly, 425 Brannan, San Francisco, CA 94107; Fax: (415) 777-1839; e-mail: SlapshawtsBy Jack Boulware