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OPINIONOPINION

 Mountain Views NewsSaturday, August 10, 2024

RICH JOHNSON 

NOW THAT’S RICH

STUART TOLCHIN

MOUNTAIN 
VIEWS

NEWS

PUBLISHER/ EDITOR

Susan Henderson

PASADENA CITY 
EDITOR

Dean Lee 

SALES

Patricia Colonello

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John Aveny 

DISTRIBUTION

Peter Lamendola

CONTRIBUTORS

Michele Kidd

Stuart Tolchin 

Harvey Hyde

Audrey Swanson

Meghan Malooley

Mary Lou Caldwell

Kevin McGuire

Chris Leclerc

Dinah Chong Watkins

Howard Hays

Paul Carpenter

Kim Clymer-Kelley

Christopher Nyerges

Peter Dills 

Rich Johnson

Lori Ann Harris

Rev. James Snyder

Katie Hopkins

Deanne Davis

Despina Arouzman

Jeff Brown

Marc Garlett

Keely Toten

Dan Golden

Rebecca Wright

Hail Hamilton

Joan Schmidt

LaQuetta Shamblee


PUT THE LIGHTS ON

WHERE MY STUPIDITY COMES FROM

A former writer for the Mountain Views News, Howard Hays, recently 
contacted me having read my last week’s assemblage of words. He 
too, admitted to suffering from the same debilitating malady I have 
known as “CFUI” Craving For Useless Information. (Maybe we will get 
together and read out of the phone book.)

Howard is into cars and was focusing on where the terminology associated with cars 
came from. He drove a 1929 Model A in this year’s Sierra Madre July 4th Parade. (you 
know, the parade held, coincidentally, on July 4th).

But wait! I’m going to share a few examples below and more in two weeks.

Why tarry? Because before we delve into this fascinating subject, I wanted to share my 
family’s single greatest demonstration of stupidity associated with being behind the 
wheel (not that I haven’t come close).

Meet my grandfather on my father’s side, Harry Johnson. Harry lived to a ripe old age. 
You may wonder how he survived when I share this true episode regarding Harry. I call 
it “Harry’s Hairy Ride!

My grandfather found himself in Europe during a less than favorable time…World War 
I. Add to that he also found himself wearing a uniform, a military uniform. 

Instead of giving my grandfather a loaded weapon, his superior officers trained him to 
drive a truck. One day, during the war, they asked my grandfather to grab a truck and 
drive it to the front. “Front” is the word for the geographic location where two opposing 
armies stand in a field facing each other and shoot at each other.

The truck they gave Grampa Harry was filled with mostly ammunition. Apparently, our 
side was running low on ammo. They sent just him and his truck down a backwoods 
country road so as to avoid detection by the enemy.

Didn’t work. A German bi-plane came across the horizon, in front of the truck, saw my 
Grampa and commenced to fly toward the truck and shoot at my grandfather and his 
truck (full of ammunition). Grampa Harry panicked, stopped the truck in the middle of 
the road, jumped out and climbed under the truck to safety…or so he figured. 

Grampa was not real smart. (I inherited that attribute from him). But, to his credit, 
while hiding under the truck, somehow he knew he was missing something. Something 
important, really important. He tried to think it through. 

“Where am I and what am I doing?” Harry asked himself. A war plane is firing big 
bullets at me and I’m hiding under a truck. Hmmmm. A truck, a truck, wait a minute, a 
truck filled with ammunition…live ammunition.

I’m certain there was divine intervention at this precise moment. Otherwise, I wouldn’t 
be here. I believe an angel whispered in his ear, “Harry, you are in a truck that could go 
BOOM any minute. Ding, Harry realized his hiding place was not a very good choice. 
He climbed out from under the truck, got in the cab and drove off into the woods…and 
survived…otherwise I would not be here.

That’s not all. A U.S. army officer saw everything. Not believing anyone could be that 
stupid and hide under a truck full of live ammunition, the officer gave my grandfather 
the benefit of a doubt. The officer figured my grandfather was repairing the truck while 
under attack and actually wrote him up for a commendation. My grandfather was smart 
enough to not say a word…a trait I envy but do not emulate.

My grandfather actually ended up saving that officer from death when later he jumped on 
top of him. Grampa Harry saw a grenade coming in the officer’s direction and shielded 
him from the grenade using his body. Spending time recuperating in the hospital after 
taking the blow from the explosion, Grampa Harry, you done good. Grampa Harry lived 
to a ripe old 72.

Back to Howard’s Road trivia. Pre-World War One, drivers would wear gloves while 
on the road. Hence, there was a little compartment which came to be known as a glove 
box…where one put their gloves.

A couple of brothers in the electronics business thought music in cars would be a good 
thing. At homes in the 1920’s most of the music came from the “Victrola”, so music for 
motorists should come from what became known as “Motorola”. (Clever huh?)

As people started driving these new cars further and further, they added a fold down 
rack on the back of the car where they could strap on a steamer trunk full of clothes 
and toiletries. It didn’t take long for the back of the car to become known simply as the 
“trunk”.

Speaking of trunk, I think I will truncate my column at this point, wish you a good week. 
And thank Howard for reaching out. Rich@versatape.com if you have any reason, even 
if half-baked, to enter my wacky world.

CAN HOPE BE ENOUGH?

No, I don’t think so; but without it, life just does 
not ever seem worthwhile. Let me start out by saying I am 
a huge fan of observing the energy and activity of small 
children. I see them enjoying the movements of their own 
body and I see them wanting to do the right thing even 
though sometimes they don’t know what the right thing is. I 
am particularly pleased by parents who have given the names of Hope or perhaps 
Justice or Trust to their newly born children. My heart goes out to parents who 
have ended years of disappointment and taken the expensive and sometime 
dangerous but utilized magical procedure we know as In Vitro Fertilization (IVF). 
This brings me to discuss the selection of Governor Tim Walz as the Democratic 
nominee for Vice-President in the election to be held this year.

In the weeks preceding his selection I was feeling pretty much without 
hope. I was certain that our aged President Biden was just too old, and more 
relevant, too feeble looking, to be re-elected as President, his opposition selected 
by the Republican party, appears to me to be a creature from a bad dream. It has 
been clear to me that the Ex- President is indifferent to anything but his own 
need for attention and adoration. His indifference to his present trophy wife and 
child coupled with his statements about wishing he could date his daughter from 
a previous marriage, together with his felonious conduct, should be enough to 
dissuade any intelligent caring person from supporting his re-election.

Combining this history with Mr. Trump’s stated policy of eliminating 
programs that support the needy, elderly and the disabled and wishing to make 
America great again by returning to policies intended to benefit solely White 
Christian Males; I was sickened! Realizing that seemingly educated people, 
people like Governor DeSantis and Senator Cruz, graduates of our most elite 
Colleges, supported Mr. Trump left me feeling bewildered. Pre-election polls 
indicating a probable Trump victory left me to wonder if a huge segment of the 
American population had become insane.

The attempted assassination of Trump left me feeling quite unsafe. Not 
only was I certain that this failed attempt would engender more support for Mr. 
Trump, but also the failed Security protection emphasized the incompetence and 
inefficiency within our Country. Things began to change once it was announced 
that President Biden would not seek re-election. The appearance of Kamala 
Harris and her selected running mate changed everything for me. Governor Tim 
Walz is a man I can admire. He has a long-time loving family relationship and 
was a High School teacher for over twenty years. He became the football coach 
and transformed a winning less team into a State champion. His twenty-five 
years in the Army National Guard speak of a clear commitment to our country. 
Additionally, notwithstanding the fact that he is a present gunowner and active 
hunter he has advocated the passage of legislation restricting gun ownership.

Of even greater importance to me is his appearance. He is a small-town 
farm boy, born without advantages, who did not attend our elite Institutions. 
This contrasts with many American Presidential candidates such as JFK, Bill and 
Hilary Clinton, Barak Obama, and the Republican Bush Presidents. In reviewing 
some recent American history, I am now of the opinion that Presidents born 
without advantages and attendees of Public Colleges are more likely people to 
be trusted. This is contrary to my opinion while at Berkeley where the entire 
population was enamored with the elegant President Kennedy and disparaging 
of President Johnson. Reading history, it is clear now who was the more effective 
President. 

I now have hope and am unlike a few of my friends who have already 
moved to or are looking for property in other countries I’m staying here filled 
with hope. Let’s all stay here and make sure to get out there and vote.

I apologize to you readers who were already aware of everything I have 
written. Nevertheless, I believe that my change in overall attitude is so drastic and 
wonderful that it is worth restating.

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TOM PURCELL


SURVIVOR OF A BABY 
BOOMER CHILDHOOD


Editor’s Note: 

This column is an except from Tom Purcell’s book, “Misadventures 
of a 1970s Childhood.”

The MSNBC.com article said that kids raised in the ‘50s, ’60s and 
’70s are survivors.

We survived chain-smoking adults, meat-and-potato diets and rough-and-
tumble fearlessness of every kind — such as the bike jump that nearly killed 
me in 1972.

It was the Evel Knievel era, after all. Knievel became famous doing wheelies 
and jumping his motorcycle over cars and buses. Every kid with a bicycle tried 
to emulate him. We jumped our bikes from ramps built from warped plywood 
that we set on rickety blocks.

It was a grand feeling to soar through the air — though our landings often 
weren’t pretty. This was the early ’70s, after all. We didn’t wear helmets or pads. 
When our rear wheels hit the pavement, we wiped out plenty. When a landing 
went really wrong, a mom was alerted, a moaning kid would be loaded into a 
wood-paneled station wagon and off he’d go to St. Clair Hospital for stitches or 
a cast. Which brings us to the day I almost died.

I was riding a five-speed Murray Spyder bike that year. Its fifth gear allowed me 
superior speed and, thus, superior distance off the ramp. I held the neighborhood 
record for the longest jump — until some outsider allegedly broke it.

I wasted no time reclaiming my record. I rode to the tippy-top of Marilynn 
Drive and began pedaling like mad. I was moving faster than I ever had when 
I cut a hard left onto Janet Drive and hit the ramp.

The jolt was spectacular. It caused my sweaty fingers to lose hold of the 
handlebars. Everything went into slow motion. I remember floating through 
the air like a directionless missile — my body flailing as it sought to regain its 
balance. I remember the tremendous impact that shot through my spine as the 
rear wheel hit the pavement — how my bike began wobbling wildly.

I was heading for a big, splintery telephone pole. I leaned left, then right, and, 
miraculously, avoided the large pole. The worst was yet ahead. I was roaring 
toward a thicket of pine trees. Their trunks and branches would surely turn me 
into kid stew. 

Then providence intervened. 

One of our neighborhood dads was a welder. He had built a giant steel-framed 
street-hockey net, and it was stored in the pine brush directly where I was 
headed. The net caught me like a glove. I didn’t hit a single trunk. I didn’t 
suffer a scratch.

One doctor told MSNBC.com that most kids of my era survived their childhood 
just fine, but some did get badly hurt, and a helmet and some padding could 
have saved them. But it’s also true that whereas kids were once free to roam and 
explore, too many of today’s kids aren’t free to do much of anything.

In any event, I regained my bike-jump record that day and I’m confident it will 
stand forever.

Even if a 2024 kid was daring enough to jump his bike off of a ramp, he’d be 
covered in more protective padding than a hockey goalie.

There’s no way a kid carrying that much weight could ever fly as far as I did the 
day a bike jump nearly killed me.

Letter to The Editor

Stuart Tolchin’s column last week 
(“Repairing the World”) was inspirational. 
But regarding his observation that “the 
entire Republican Party . . . appears to be 
loyal to Mr. Trump”, appearances can be 
deceiving.

 There’s Bill Weld, former Republican 
governor of Massachusetts; "With 
democracy hanging in the balance in this 
election, I'm standing with Kamala Harris 
to defeat Donald Trump and his attacks 
on our democratic institutions."

 Joe Walsh, former Republican 
representative from Illinois, warns his 
party has become “an authoritarian-
embracing cult”. He explains “that a 
candidate who refuses to accept the will of 
the people is a traitor. And I could never 
support a traitor."

 Former Republican Rep. Claudine 
Schneider of Rhode Island describes Harris 
as “intelligent, honest, hardworking” who 
“genuinely cares about every citizen, and 
about justice.” She’s supporting her “so 
that 1) we can actually move our country 
forward and 2) give us time to resurrect a 
Republican Party that reflects the values 
of Abraham Lincoln, Teddy Roosevelt and 
Ronald Reagan.”

 Former Republican Rep. Denver 
Riggleman of Virginia posts: “Trump & 
his minions are dangerous. The same 
folks who pushed J6 push Project 2025. 
A 2nd Trump term would endanger US 
citizens – and create global chaos.”

 Former Republican Rep. Adam Kinzinger 
of Illinois warns, “Donald Trump poses 
a direct threat to every fundamental 
American value. He doesn’t care about 
our country. He doesn’t care about you. He 
only cares about himself, and he will hurt 
anyone or anything in pursuit of power.” 
Kinzinger described his party’s Trump 
supporters as “authoritarian weaklings 
scared of a tiny hands felon."

 Former Republican Governor and 
Bush Administration cabinet secretary 
Christine Todd Whitman of New Jersey 
says, “I was a proud Republican, but 
Donald Trump is unfit to lead our nation. 
We saw during his four years in office how 
he consistently chose himself, his pursuit 
of power, and his billionaire friends over 
the American people while spewing lies 
and spreading chaos at every turn. It’s 
time to move forward by electing Vice 
President Kamala Harris.”

 Of the 42 Republicans who served 
as Cabinet officials in the Trump 
Administration, only 24 now publicly 
support him (not even his vice president 
included). Trump’s former Chief of 
Staff and Homeland Security Secretary, 
retired Marine Corps General John Kelly, 
summed up the prospect of a Trump 
return with, “God help us all.”

Many Republicans take commitment to 
their country and its future (along with 
the future of their party) seriously. Yes, 
“the entire Republican party” often 
“appears to be loyal to Mr. Trump.” But 
appearances can be deceiving.

 

Howard Hays, Sierra Madre 


Mountain Views News

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Mountain Views News 80 W Sierra Madre Blvd. No. 327 Sierra Madre, Ca. 91024 Office: 626.355.2737 Fax: 626.609.3285 Email: editor@mtnviewsnews.com Website: www.mtnviewsnews.com