Ron, Out!

After 2 1/2 years, ol' Ron-Ron is on his way out the door. Artest, the controversial star of the Sacramento Kings, has been traded to Houston. Of course, you all remember Artest for his infamous brawl with the fans a few years back. For some reason, the video doesn't seem to exist anywhere on YouTube, so instead, here he is stealing an orange from some kids:

While his antics in Sacramento never quite lived up to the brawl with the fans, he did show up in the local media several times, including for alleged domestic abuse and animal neglect. Fans either love him or hate him, but his off-the-court antics have soured the Kings name in many eyes, so perhaps it's best that he move on to greener pastures.

What's Sacramento getting in exchange? Why, their old pal Bobby Jackson, along with a few others. The popular, if aging, player was reported to be back in Sac already, and we were hoping to grab a quick sound bite from him to include in our "Fan Reax" package. Our sports guys pulled up his number from the Rolodex, and the reporter I was working with gave him a ring.

Jackson: I'm about to go out to dinner with my wife, I don't think I'll have time.
Reporter: It'll only take a few minutes, maybe we could catch you outside the restaurant when you finish?
Jackson: Let me check with my wife... Yeah, that'd be OK.
Reporter: Great, what's the name of the restaurant?
Jackson: It's called... Pizza.
Reporter: Pizza? That's the name of the restaurant?
Jackson: Yeah... Pizza on Douglas. That's what it's called.
Reporter: It's on Douglas? What's the cross street?
Jackson: There ain't no cross street.

After a brief investigation, it was discovered that there was neither a "Pizza on Douglas" restaurant, nor a pizza restaurant on Douglas. Indeed, we'd been had by Bobby Jackson. Our story had to rely solely on drunk Kings fans. You win this round, Jackson.

The next day, our sports guy took over the reins and was able to set up a quick interview at a church he'd be getting out of late in the evening. This time, he was actually there.

Turns out he's a cool guy. Hopes to coach after a few more years of playing and teaching the young Kings players a thing or two about being a baller.

Despite the obvious temptation, I did not ask him how his pizza was the night before.

So You Think You Can Gay?

McDonald's has long been an international hub for family values and universal acceptance. At McDonald's, you don't just get a meal, you get a "happy" meal, and damnit, I can't think of a better way to spend five dollars. Yes, within the magical walls of this shrine of happiness, everybody is welcome. There is no discrimination here, as is exemplified in Ronald McDonald's posse.

You had Hamburglar, the ex-con, Grimace, the "slow" guy, and their elected official Mayor McCheese, the "handy-capable" man who was born with a cheeseburger for a head. Clearly, all are invited to join in on the festive joy and whimsy that is McDonald's.

Along with all these fine, upstanding members of the community, McDonald's has displayed their support for the gay and lesbian community by donating money to their chamber of commerce. Now, everyone knows that "all men are created equal". Heck, it's been proclaimed by the almighty Founding Fathers. But there was a book written some years ago that might beg to differ. I speak of a popular book, written well before my time, that laid out guidelines for life and society. A book that might see something wrong with McDonald's recent associations. A book that explained that all are equal, but some may be more equal than others.

Well, I assumed that was the "good book" that the protesters were referring to (as it was a good book), but apparently a lil' fella named Jesus has a book of his own, and he wasn't too keen on the pals McDonald's was keeping these days. Thus, he sent forward the righteous to lead a national boycott against the "all are welcome" attitude of McDonald's. Protesters lined the streets around the country to display their "support of family values".

No, your eyes do not deceive you. The Righteous come in all shapes and sizes, and in this case, the shapes and sizes of a 10 and a 12 year old, who are disgusted in the ways that McDonald's supports the gay agenda. Their older siblings (all under 18) were on the picket lines as well, but their parents were unfortunately tied up at work and unable to join in the protest. After gathering a handful of sound bites that mostly consisted of "Gays are bad, so McDonald's shouldn't support them", we turned to the customers to see the effect that the protest was having. Every single person we spoke to expressed their disgust... not in the fact that McDonald's was supporting a gay organization, but that there were pre-pubescent children standing alone in a parking lot, wearing t-shirts that spoke of sodomy and gay marriage.

Hey, somebody's got to stand up for "family values". "If McDonald's is marketing to families and children," the leader of the protest explained, "I'm wondering why they think it's ok to promote homosexual marriage." He didn't touch on why it's ok to give a "Sodomy is Sin" t-shirt to a 10-year-old. He was too busy standing up for family values.

Now, Ronald and I go way back. I'm sure I can speak for him when I say that all are welcome at McDonald's, and after these kids are done fighting the good fight, they are more than welcome to come in for a McFlurry and a ride on the Fry-Guy merry-go-round.

It should also be noted that a long list of other companies have donated to the Gay and Lesbian Chamber of Commerce, including Burger King, Hilton, Kodak, AT&T, Coors... Boy, these kids have got a lot of work to do.

The Great Sushi Caper

"They can steal my fish, they can steal my sushi, but they can't steal my soul."

The words of a man standing at the edge of his breaking point, as he surveys the damage done by a duo of wily criminals on a rampage of greed and destruction. Owner of a popular Natomas sushi restaurant/sports bar, Ken Le recalls the numerous times his establishment has been the target of deviants and nogoodniks.

"You have the same song and dance year after year after year."

Natomas, an area of North Sacramento, consists mainly of apartment complexes and strip malls ("sprall"). With only four police officers per 10,000 residents in the area, Natomas is no stranger to crime. I can't even count how many times I've been out there to cover a story on a home invasion (my counting abilities get a little hazy once I reach around four or five).

Le has gotten used to the 4 AM phone call from his security company, where he is forced to get up, turn on his laptop, and watch through his security cameras as his restaurant is once again ransacked by local riffraff.

Fortunately, a new police substation is being placed in one of the many strip malls in the region, as Sacramento police desperately try to bring order to a community in dire need of a hero. This is what brought us to Le's establishment, as we had done stories on several of his unfortunate experiences with criminatliy in the past.

Well, what a coincidence... Le's restaurant was burglarized only a few days before, as two criminal masterminds pried their way into the restaurant's back door in search of loot and booty (the money kind). He was happy to bust out the security video and re-enact the evening's happenings.

What was taken? Nothing. Yes, apparently the "thievery" part of being a thief was left out of these thieves thieving lessons, because they failed to thieve a single thing. Here's how it went down:

2:30 in the AM. Using the cover of night, these prowlers crept to the back door of the restaurant. Wielding a crowbar (the preferred tool amongst the criminal community), they pried their way into Le's beloved restaurant.

Once in, they briskly darted towards the manager's office, clearly after something in particular.

Once there, they stood for a moment, looked around, and darted back for the door.

All together, the heist lasted about twenty seconds. Laptops, iPods and gallons of top-shelf liquor were left behind. The only real trouble they caused was breaking the door, which will cost the owner about $2,000.

After whipping out my old-school magnifying glass, I did some sleuthing of my own and came to this conclusion: They busted in... ran straight to the safe.... one said "Alright, crack the safe!"... the other said "What? I thought you knew how to crack a safe!"... together they threw up their hands and yelled "Uh oh. Let's get outta here! Waah!"... and out they went.

I presented my evidence to the police substation. They said they'd "look into it".

Criminals these days just don't seem to be as smart as they used to be. But I suppose if you were smart, you probably wouldn't do something stupid like rob somebody. Therefore, we are presented with the results of America's poor schooling systems: a $2,000 broken door.

California's (still) Burning

Beneath a thick blanket of smoke, there are still a few strongholds remaining in California that have yet to be ravaged by wildfires. Those who have survived gathered together in these "green zones" and roam the scorched land in search of food and gasoline below $4.00 a gallon. They tell their children tales of the way California used to be before the great fires of 2008, a time nearly forgotten to the ages.

Yes, California continues to be ravaged by wildfires with no sign of slowing down. Locals have come to accept the ever-present haze in the sky and musky smell in the air. The children and elderly have been unable to go outdoors for weeks now, and are presumed dead. On top of it all, we get to wake up to newspaper headlines like this:


That's not going to be good for firefighters. Or news crews.

Yes, it's getting ugly out there, as we are all collectively reminded why it's a poor idea to live in the central valley. One of California's major wildfires is only a hop, skip and 2-hour drive away from our station, providing our crews with a business-class ticket to the front lines. In case you've never been... I suggest you never go. It's like sitting in a sauna while smoking a cigar. You either feel like an idiot or some sort of mob boss, but either way it can't be good for the body.

Thousands evacuated the area in and around the town of Paradise, which today looked like anything but (I stole that line from Fox News). Around the area, some 36 wildfires, many of which were caused by lightning a week or two ago, have merged together to create one raging inferno, kinda like how Voltron was formed from all those smaller robots, except in wildfire form.

This, along with undying winds and heat, has made for one difficult fire to fight.

It also made for one difficult fire to shoot. With the command center set up 40 minutes away from the front lines, on top of a 2 hour drive time, our storytelling abilities were limited at best. It was a long, hot, smoke-saturated day that didn't have enough time for us to get all the angles, but a rushed package was produced, flames were in the video and smoke was in the live shot. We weren't going to win any awards on this one, but at least it made the slot.

So, beaten, battered, several hours late and wreaking of smoke, I finally made my way home to the wife and kids. The sad thing is that this is way too early in the summer for fire season to be raging like this. We've still got a long way to go, and it's not gonna be pretty.

California's Burning

Yes, it's true... California, the greatest state in the union, is on fire. Like, really. No foolin'. It's on fire, and help is needed. It has long since past the point that firefighters can hold the lines on their own, and the good governor has called for help in battling these wildfires. I think Mr. T said it best in a classic A-Team episode: "We need this here chopter, and we need it now, sucka!"

With "chopters" a-plenty, the California National Guard stepped up to the challenge.

The local media were invited to join in on the escapades, with an offer to fly with the National Guard on these missions. I was fortunate enough to be enlisted for duty.

However, somewhere along the way... someone got confused. I was sent to the air base to fly with one of the helicopters that was to be dumping water on the wildfires. Instead, I was put on a helicopter that was transporting people to and from the fires. In other words, I wasn't seeing the drops in action... or even a fire. Not quite what the desk was expecting, but I wasn't about to argue... I was gonna get to ride in a helicopter!

In teams of four, these guys would spend seven day shifts flying into action, dipping buckets into nearby water sources, and doing their best to help control the spread of the fire. We were transporting a relief crew up to Mendocino county, by way of a Vietnam-era Huey.

I spent the day humming that song that was in Apocalypse Now. It was hard not to, sitting next to this guy:

I certainly felt under-dressed next to him, and hoped that the blast shield on his helmet was strictly there for cosmetic purposes.

We didn't see any wildfires (or Charlie) along the way, but there was definitely a thick haze of smoke blanketing the state. Al Gore would be pissing his pants if he saw this.

So we got there, dropped off some guys, picked up some others, and headed on back. It was hardly the "wildfire ride-along nat-pack" that was envisioned by the those in charge, but the story was what it was. Take it... leave it... retool it... it didn't matter to me. At the end of the day, the only thing that really mattered was that I got paid to ride in a helicopter.

The Olympic Trials

The date fast approaches... 8-8-08, a time when America will once again get to prove that it's the most kickass country in the world!! Yes, four years have passed, and we are once again ready to kick-start the Summer Olympics! But first, you've gotta prove that you're worthy of being on the most kickass team in the world (aside from The A-Team). Enter: The Olympic Trials!!

This year, Eugene is hosting the track and field trials, and rightfully so, as the city dubbed "Track Town USA" has a long history of track glory, including Steve Prefontaine, coach Bill Bowerman, and beloved UO alumni Phil Knight. The city draws a knowledgeable track and field crowd like no other, and is happy to soak up the media spotlight.

A few years back, while working as a Eugene media monkey, I covered a press conference held by Nike on the "Eugene '08" promotions that would be developed, along with the expansions of Hayward Field and various hotels around the area in order to accommodate the influx of Olympic fever. Now, years later, I wasn't about to be left out of the party.

As a part of my Tax Rebate Adventure, I joined in on the festivities in Track Town USA by attending the opening day of events (tickets were a bitch to find). It was pretty damn cool, and certainly worth the hype.

Despite the mid-90's heat, the day's events drew over 20,000 track and field enthusiasts, who discussed statistics, strategies and athlete histories. I being a light-weight track junkie (AKA I ran track in high school and sucked) was unable to contribute to the knowledgeable banter going on amongst the jolly crowd, so I challenged my pal Mike to select who was going to win each event, betting a round of beers on each. Once again, my track and field abilities fell short of amazing. Also the track junkies seemed offended by our antics.

While I may not have understood all the technicalities of the events, I sure as hell enjoyed the spectacle, witnessing a world record being set and making an effort to remember names of people I'll be seeing on television from Beijing. Overall, a very cool experience.

On top of the events, there was also a slew of festivals set up around town, including a number of beer gardens operating on campus. Oh yes, it was awesome. Plus I ran into some old cronies hard at work. I'm sure they appreciated my witty beer-driven banter as they tried to shoot interviews with former Olympians.

As the festivities raged on, it shouldn't go unnoticed that there were those present who decided to pass on the excitement and display their disapproval of China and whatever other world issue was pressing at the time. Fortunately, they were confined to designated "Protest Zones", conveniently located at a safe distance from the trials. Hey, it's Eugene... militant hippies are hard to avoid at all times.

I attended several more days, watching the events from the "Fan Zone" (AKA can't afford another ticket), which was conveniently located within beer garden range. Overall, it was a very cool event to witness, especially since I didn't have to spend the day viewing it through a viewfinder.

For further coverage, check out Guapo's first-hand photog experiences.

The Rebate Adventure

When a check for $600 arrived in the mail, many Americans ran out and bought things they'd always wanted- A big television! A new laptop! A mail-order bride! Others paid off debts, bills and loan sharks. All this stuff is great, but when I saw the check made out to me, I decided it was time to go on an adventure, compliments of the US government. Hey, I'm only doing it to get the economy back on track!

With a week and a half of much needed vacation time to kill, I hit the road for the merry old land of Oregon, my old stomping ground and home to many cronies, well-wishers and booze-hound crumbums that have passed through my life. It was high time we had a reunion.

PORTLAND

The adventure began in the city of Portland, a very cool city that I rarely got to spend time in while living in Eugene. Definatly a city I'd consider moving to someday, if only the weather was sunny and beautiful year round, not just for 26 days in the summer. Still, those few days are gorgeous.

After an evening on the town, I headed up to the Columbia River gorge for a day of hiking. It was awesome, and it made me realize that I need to get a job shooting some sort of adventure or travel show rather than stupid news. You just don't get to do stuff like this when you spend your days chasing house fires and hoodlums.


EUGENE

My travels then took me South to Eugene, my former place of residence. Finding the city in the midst of a dismal heatwave, my buddy and I sought refuge from the scorching temperature by way of baby pools and lawn chairs.

Each armed with a pool, a chair and a sixer of tall boys, we were ready to take on the day's wrath.

But wait... something was missing from the equation...

There we go! With the quick addition of a Nintendo, we were living like kings as sweaty motorists cruised by and hollered their approval. Truly one of the greater ways I've spent an afternoon (which is kinda sad).

TRIALS

While boozing in the sun was one way to pass the days, it was hardly the only thing to do in town over the week. Eugene was hosting the US Olympic Track and Field trials down at the University of Oregon's Hayward Field. Of course, my adventure was unable to pass this up.

Full coverage to come soon.

NIGHT ON THE TOWN

Before my departure, I rounded up some ol' photog pals for one last hurrah.

It was a night that shall live in infamy.

Plus, the nefarious Guapo was finally introduced to the legendary Chucko. It was like a perfect storm of drunken numbskullery.

With that, I returned to a fire-engulfed California to conclude the adventure, compliments of the United States government. 1,341 miles driven, but it was worth every dollar of the outrageously priced gas.

Watch for an Adventure Travel Video, coming soon.