Hold On, Almost Friday Motes

Just asking: How many people listen in to the Presidents private telephone calls? Seems like a lot if you consider how many people seem to know what was talked about in “private” calls. How come there are no transcripts of Biden or Harris conversations? Just asking for a friend.

 And so the year begins: There is nothing but malice and exorbitant legal fees in the story of the 27-year-old Temur Akhmedov and the divorce of his parents, the Russian billionaire Farkhad Akhmedov and Tatiana Akhmedova. It’s a mother testifying against her son, and vice versa, as she sues him for nearly $100 million in cash and assets.  Her ex-husband has refused to hand over a single ruble and has kept his money, and himself, far away from the United Kingdom and the reach of its courts. So Ms. Akhmedova and her lawyers tried a new approach. Temur, the older of the couple’s two sons, is a U.K. resident, which makes his holdings eminently seizable. 

All things are not equal: In Portland, antifa riots and burns buildings, Ho Hum. In Detroit BLM riots, protests, and burns buildings. Yawn. Gather on the lawn of someone who doesn’t agree with you, terrorizing the wife and new born child. Bottom of page A-7. In Washington D.C. Trump calls for supporters to come to the city, Call Out the National Guard. Board up all the business’. Close the streets. Huh?

Why does everybody want to be a “biker”: I was watching “Battle Botts” and had to wonder. Now, that’s as nerdy as you can get and about as far from “biker” as humanly possible, but at least 2 of the “Bott” teams were decked out in cutoff levi jackets (cut’s) with back center patches (colors) and pocket patches (tabs). To real bikers, colors are earned, honored, and protected. Wearing one you’ve not earned will get you a severe ass whipping. It’s all about respect but that answers my question, nobody today seems to care about respect.

One of my favorites: It seems that Ivanka Trump mis-sent a “tweet” to singer/actor Meatloaf, and the twitterverse  is all nuts. Hey, Meatloaf is a great singer/performer and I personally enjoy his music. I have sat in the garage, with cold beer in hand, and played the entire  “Bat Out Of Hell” cd loud enough the neighbor asked me to “Turn it the Fxxx down”. (I did.)

First Wednesday Motes

Congress doesn’t give employee “evaluations”: Nancy Pelosi has been in office since 1988 (33 years), and “now” she says she will “advance racial, economic and environmental justice”. What the hell has she been doing for the past 33 years? Besides acting like an idiot.

Recently my wife posted something on farcebook: SAince shye is pro-gun it seemed to rub some people wrong. Several advised her she would be “on the wrong side of history”. There is no wrong side of history. There is only the history. Well, if you teach “history”, and not blindly follow a political agenda.

 Unintended lockdown consequences: At least in New York, COVID-19 has cut down on cocaine habits. Instead of disappearing into dingy club bathrooms, New York partygoers are staying home and smoking cannabis.  In San Francisco, opioid overdoses killed more than 621 people, the coronavirus has killed only 194.. Doctors and researchers are openly worrying that Americans are drinking more, and drinking more often.

Only goes one way: British “journalist”(and that is really pushing the definition) Piers Morgan went after President Donald Trump in a Monday column for the Daily Mail, calling on Republicans to ‘whack’ Trump like a “mob boss.” I wonder what he’d have to say if I suggested someone “Whack” the U.K. Queen.

Something I’d like to see? A “Muppet Great Gatsby”. Yes     Yes      Yes

At the time of this writing, Tanya Roberts is either alive or dead. Even her agent doesn’t know for sure.

Tuesday Motes For A New Year

Picture worth a thousand words: Front page picture of cars lined up on the freeway, at Midnight on New Year’s, to watch the ariel fireworks over the Honolulu skyline. Funny part is, such fireworks are illegal in Honolulu. My area of Hilo sounded like Firebase Gloria just prior to an assault. The Honolulu police department issued a statement they had confiscated 1,500 pounds of fireworks, during the month of December. That’s one container, maybe, in 31 days. Judging from the pictures of the Honolulu skyline, seems they missed a lot.

Yea, sure, you bet: Nearing the end of his second term, Mayor Kirk Caldwell says he wishes he could be mayor longer. Now he is looking toward his next political step, governor. “I will have a difficult run for governor, no doubt about it, but I again I think I can get the votes to win,” said Caldwell. With the public sentiment soured because of the pandemic crisis, rail and other issues, does he have a chance? If my vote counts, no. I will continue to urge the other candidate to keep reminding the people of Honolulu about the 300 restaurants, bars, and small stores that are closed, forever, due to his handling and emergency proclamations (over 30 issued for the city).

In my opinion: No, asking that a contested election be investigated, and no winner declared until the investigation is completed, is not sedition or treason. So Rob, Jake, and Debra STFDASTFU.

For those of you that have sent me “friend requests”, sorry, this is the only “social media” I do. No face book etc.

Well, no problems at the Honolulu airport, other than the plane parked as far from the baggage claim as they could and still be in the same airport, and the Honolulu cab drivers are surly, don’t speak much English, and are mostly lost without google maps.

Monday, Wait And See

Okay, the mayor of Honolulu (lower case m on purpose), with the governor’s okay, has decreed all interisland travelers arriving in Honolulu from another island, MUST take a Covid-19 test. In fact, 3 tests after arriving. I have been asymptomatic, have been in full quarantine for the past 11 days and fully intend to say no. Supposedly I can be arrested and charged and fined up to $5,000. I intended to decline on constitutional basis, the mayor, with or without the gov’s okay, has no constitutional right to tell me i must receive a medical procedure.

So if there is no posting for the next few days, it will be because I have started the fight.

Sunday Rant

Headlines aren’t always (seldom, occasionally, once-in-a-while, never) accurate: Headline, “More than a Million Americans Disregarded Public Health Travel Warnings on Sunday.” U.S. airports screened well over one million people on Sunday, the highest number since the beginning of the pandemic in March.

I’m one of those people that traveled. I didn’t “Disregard” anything, I wanted to see my wife and spend Christmas with her at my home. I, like most of those other travelers, followed all the freakin’ protocols, including the damn mask.

I “quarantined” in my home for the entire time. The only time I left my property was when I walked the dog. Other than my wife, I haven’t been closer then 60-90 feet to anyone, except at the airport. I’ve taken my temperature every day.

And considering the recent revelations on the accuracy of the “public health” warnings, why the hell should we listen to them? They lie, make up facts, and tell only what fits their narrative. So, no.

Will I test? No. The guy giving me the test has been exposed more in a single day than I have the entire time. And I don’t believe the .gov has the authority to order me to take a medical procedure, and that is what the test is. So I will not be taking any “airport test”.

Saturday Story

Starting a New year, figured I’d start off the year with how I got to be, me.

Road Name

People ask how I got the road name Storyteller. Everywhere you go you’ll meet Bear, Grizz, Snake, Half breed, Psycho and all the others.  I have only heard of one other Storyteller. Gypsy Pete sent me a picture of a British Columbia biker everyone called Storyteller. He was about 6′, 200 Lb, had a full beard and walked with a cane. We could have been related as that was pretty much my description at the time.

But the guy that “gave” me the name was George Boston.

At the time I was an independent and George rode for Tiger Wong and the World Wide M/C. But he and I spent a lot of time drinking at the Kapiolani Bowling Alley bar. Don’t know how we ended there, but we did.

George was a SBU* officer at the time and was looking for something to give the bi-monthly newsletter something extra. I suggested some short stories I had written. He thought that might work.

A few days later I gave him 4 or 5 I had been working on. When he found out I had been a wrestling announcer, tried stand-up comedy and had stories and articles published in Biker and cop magazines. He said, “Jim you’re just a god dammed story teller, ain’t ya?”

And from then on, he started calling me Storyteller. It stuck.

I would say there are hundreds of people who know Storyteller, but if you asked them my real name, maybe 3 out of every 10 would know who you’re talking about.

When someone asks me how I got the name Storyteller, I usually say “After years of doing radio, television, 2 movies, stand-up comedy, numerous published letters to the editor and several articles in Bike and Cop magazines, I got it the old-fashioned way. I earned it.”

Then I smile and move along.

The truth is, I was given the name by a good friend and a solid biker brother, George Boston. I miss him sometimes, a lot.

*Street Bikers United; the state of Hawaii lobby for motorcyclists and their rights.

Happy New Year

I’m staying up tonight, just to make sure 2020 actually leaves.

Staying at home, having a few drinks with some ghosts.

For many years we celebrated New Year at Buffalo Bill’s Casino in Parump, NV, with the club. It’s really great feeling to walk into a Casino and be surrounded with 600 to 700 brothers. And you know there isn’t a man in the place you can’t buy a drink for, or borrow ten bucks from. I kind of miss those days.

I’ve lost too many people this year, and none to this damn “virus”.

At midnight, I’ll start the bike, run it for a few minutes, shut it down and hope for more miles this year

I’ll set off a few firecrackers front and back to chase off the evil spirits.

And I’ll have a few drinks with some ghosts.

New Year Story

New Year Knockout

The early 70’s was a tough time to be a cop. Vietnam was teaching young people they could protest, gather in groups, and do almost anything because there weren’t enough cops to arrest everyone.

It wasn’t as bad here as it was on the Mainland, but we had our moments.

It was New Year’s Eve, of 73’. There was ice and snow in most of North America so Waikiki was packed with mostly young adult males pretending to be part of  “the movement” and protests. If drinking lots of booze, chasing young women and smoking pot is a war protest, they had it down.

It had been a fairly busy night already, lots of fights and people running out on their bar/restaurant tabs.

Really one of the most active New Years Eves I could remember.

But I’d only been a cop for 4 years, what did I know.

The problem seemed to be the problems were always at opposite ends from each other. So my partner “Robin” and I were kept hopping. In fact, one time we stopped a city bus had the driver skip a stop so we got to the fight first.

We did hear about that later.

There were no days off during The New year’s Eve. Everyone worked. As it got busier each year, more officers and ideas were put into play. This year it was decided to have a “mobile command” post, complete with booking table and utilizing the paddy wagon as a holding cell. This was located in a small alley behind what was then the Waikiki Liberty House store, one of the biggest in the chain.

The booking table was for minor things like drinking in public, fire cracker violations, and the ever popular public nudity.

These minor infractions could be booked, cited, and released, once.

Get arrested a second time, you sat in the “wagon” until its regular half hour return to the station to empty its holdees.

It all started when someone got arrested and they had a lot of “friends” that didn’t want them arrested. The officers walked the arrestees back to the command center for booking. I seem to remember it was a firework violation, really nothing serious.

The crowd however got caught up as crowds often do. The chant of “Let ‘em go” was picked up and as the officers and prisoners moved through the crowd it was like the cartoon snowball rolling downhill. The chant got bigger and louder as it followed the officers and arrestees.

A call went out for everyone to rally to the command center. It wasn’t exactly an “officer needs help 10-13” call, but pretty close. My partner Ray and I jogged down to the lane entrance right behind the crowd. The “Let ‘em go” was getting louder and more insistent and the crowd was becoming ugly.

As Ray and I pushed our way through the crowd I spotted a well built, bald oriental male that seemed between the crowd and the several uniformed officers.

I couldn’t hear what he was saying but he seemed to be trying to make or keep peace between the two groups.

Ray and I crossed to the police “side” as the crowd got louder and more stirred up. Several cops started to step forward and that was when the “peacemaker” turned and physically shoved two of the officers backwards and away from the civilian crowd.

Things really exploded then. The 2 groups rushed at each other.

I tried to keep my eye on the peacekeeper. I decided he was “going in” for shoving the 2 officers.

The two groups weren’t doing any more than shoving at this point but it was loud and confusing.

That’s when I see “peacekeeper” to one side as he stumbled a little and almost lost his balance. That’s when I threw the best left punch in my life. It caught him between the ear and the jaw point and he dropped like bag of rags.

I was reaching for my cuffs when one of the other cops yelled

“They hit the Major. Major Kim is down.”

Major Kim, the new Patrol Division Commander?

I looked around and didn’t see any uniforms on the ground. What I did see was several officers helping and protecting, the guy I was calling “the peacekeeper”.

Today this would be called an OMG moment, because I realized I had just punched my new division commander. Not just hit him. I blind-sided, sucker punched and false cracked my new patrol boss unconscious. Yeah, an OMG moment.

It turned the tide. The cops started taking everything serious. Flashlights, handcuffs, and black jacks sort of serious.

This caused the crowd to decide they needed to be any place but where all these angry cops were. It didn’t take long and they were all running in other directions.

Everything was pretty anti-climactic from there.

A few facts did come out, and these are important;

#1 The Major was in plain clothes, and had not notified anyone he would be checking out the command center when it all started.

#2 He was trying to calm everyone down when he got hit. He didn’t see who hit him and none of the surrounding officers had either.

#3 Only a couple of crowd members suffered lumps and bruises and no one ended in the ER.

#4 I never told anyone but my partner that I threw that punch, even though I would have had free beers for a long, long time.

Glory is one thing, getting fired would have been possible but being on that Major’s bad side, probably until the day one of us retired, would have been a whole new level of hell.

Hey Major, no hard feelings. Hey?