Phillipe and Jorge’s Cool, Cool World: Stupidity at Home and Abroad

What Would a Moron Do?

Anyone who was even vaguely surprised at the Ryan Lochte Karioca Kops incident at the Olympic Games in Rio evidently missed his former reality show, “What Would Ryan Lochte Do?” on the E! network back in 2013. Probably because it only ran for eight episodes before the producers evidently did their own run for the hills, or to be more relevant to Lochte, swam for shore from the sinking ship.

Phillipe and Jorge watched off-and-on about one and a half episodes of WWRLD, but it only took about five minutes to realize that young Ryan was dumber than a rock, with all due respect to the rock. We are not just talking run-of-the-mill stupid, but “2+2 = Huh?” brain dead. Everyone by now knows all about Lochte’s clueless attempt to claim he and his fellow swimmers were robbed at gunpoint, and only a moron like Ryan could intermesh the gaffes of going to the media with the story when he didn’t have to, involving his US teammates who were essentially innocent, leaving Brazil before them and stranding them there with his bogus tale, and issuing an apology that made Donald Trump’s “regrets” speech sound sincere and truthful.

One has to question how many years it took Lochte to get out of elementary school, and this whole fiasco was no great revelation that you won’t see a new reality show called “Ryan Goes to a Mensa Meeting” anytime soon.  The newest Ugly American is just a sad, sad individual with ozone between the ears, no sponsors and no chance of ever competing again for his country.  Hey, what a great idea for a reality show!

Final Olympics note: Is there any “sport” more otherworldly, bizarre and fascinating than synchronized swimming? While synchronized diving and trampoline are far too contrived, the maniacally grinning aquatic clones doing cluster Esther Williams routines with some North Korean military parade discipline thrown in was a must-watch at Casa Diablo. Are the Russian swimmers available for pool parties? Please give P&J a call if so. (Plus, if you are of a certain age, the first thing that pops into your mind when you think of synchronized swimming is the legendary 1984 Saturday Night Live sketch featuring Martin Short and Harry Shearer. Sheer genius, back when SNL wasn’t cringe-worthy lame.)

Imported Stupidity

You would think that by bringing on a disgraced sexual predator like former Fox News honcho Roger Ailes, the bigoted owner of the repulsive Breitbart website and an Ann Coulter manqué, the Trump campaign would have plenty of slimy characters adding a certain stench to their efforts.  But it appears that these vile creatures weren’t enough, and they are looking for that certain ugly touch from abroad.

Phillipe and Jorge refer to The Donald’s recent appearance in Mississippi (please check your KKK hoods at the door), where he introduced his English friend, Nigel Farage, former leader of the UK Independence Party (Ukip) and a very vocal Brexit leader, to the baying hounds. Evidently Trump was banking on the assumption that anyone who has a British accent is automatically assumed to have 20 IQ points more than you.

While the American news media evidently knew little about Farage, P&J are quite familiar with the man. In Great Britain, he is viewed as a bigoted buffoon and piss artist (Britspeak for drunk) of the highest order. Not to mention a blatant liar (Trump and lies — that sound somewhat familiar?), who said after the Brexit vote to leave the European community that many of his and his colleagues’ claims made during the campaign were outright lies. He is seen as a blown-up, clapped-out vile little anti-immigrant racist whose Ukip was nothing more than a laughable charade with him at its head.

The fact that a little gutter-crawler like Farage was brought in to extol the virtues of the orange-tinted, bloviating, immature narcissist with no connection to reality speaks volumes to who the new campaign advisors feel represent their views the best to the American public. No doubt that when England hits the skids after their Euro pullout you can find Farage hiding in some seedy pub on the outside of a few pints, but boasting of how highly he is esteemed in the States, at least until November, when the Trump Dumpster fire is finally wheeled off a cliff.

Passages

As Phillipe & Jorge grow older, more and more friends leave this life and, when they have also contributed richly to our lives and community, we feel it right to celebrate them here in the Cool, Cool World. Last week, Providence native and musician par excellence, Preston Hubbard, passed away at his home in St. Louis, Missouri. He was a good friend ever since his high school days. Known as “Prez” or “Pinky,” Preston Hubbard made a distinctive mark for himself in the world of music, including playing with some of the finest musicians and recording on hit records.
Pinky grew up on Providence’s East Side and was playing in bands as a teenager. We first saw him with the great Providence-born tenor saxophonist Scott Hamilton, playing with the Hamilton Bates Blue Flames. He moved on to the equally fine Roomful of Blues where his work with drummer John Rossi epitomized the classic “drag and push” of a first-rate rhythm section. He moved smoothly from electric bass to standup acoustic bass and his talent and skills blossomed.
From there, Pinky moved to Austin, Texas, where he became a member of the Fabulous Thunderbirds and, along with Kim Wilson, Jimmy Vaughn and fellow Rhode Islander Franny Christina, helped shape the sound on their string of hit records.
But he had his demons; his alcohol and drug use eventually caught up to him and, at its nadir, led to a stretch in a Texas prison. Those who loved Pinky thought that this would not end well but, miraculously, he pulled himself together (he wrote a painful and amazing account of his prison time for a newspaper series in Austin) and survived.
He began playing again and, eventually, wound up in St. Louis where he lived and played for over a decade, a celebrated musician in that scene. Everywhere he went, he gained fans and friends who all felt as passionately about him as did his oldest friends from Rhode Island.
So it was with ineffable sadness that we heard a few weeks ago that Preston Hubbard, 63, died of natural causes at his home in St. Louis. There are memorial events being planned in St. Louis, Austin and Providence for this much-loved musician. Our thoughts are with his brothers Paul and Jim, and we will inform you here of the Providence event when it is scheduled. So long, Pinky. It was our pleasure knowing you.

Leave a Reply

Prove that you are human *

Previous post:

Next post: