Sexual raptor

Bruce is attending to a family matter; our thoughts and prayers go out to him. He’ll return in coming weeks. “Sexual raptor” appeared in the Oct. 25, 1995 issue of the RN&R.

Still looking for a good Halloween costume? Don’t look here, friend. I’m tapped out this year when it comes to brilliant ideas. You may recall how I gave it up for you last year with that extraordinarily creative O.J. Bates outfit. For this year, maybe you should get back to back with some really good beatnik garb.

If I had a penny for every television camera that captured a shot of a baseball player spitting, I could buy a stealth bomber. To the list of Really Bad Career Choices You Would Hate Your Kid to Make, you can add the job of the poor schmo who has to hose down the dugout after a ballgame. NBC had a shot of the Marinaters dugout last week, and you couldn’t help but be appalled by the large, dark globs of lip-burning toxicities raining down on the cement floor. It looked like a Superfund sight in the making.

An idea whose time has not only come but is long overdue: drastic presidential campaign reform. We don’t have to be creative here. Just steal the French method. Candidates over there can only run for four months and can’t spend more than $1 million. Period. On close inspection, though, you have to admit that such a system would never work here. Four months is barely enough time to flush out all the candidates’ girlfriends, mistresses, concubines, masseuses and teenage sex slaves, much less to talk about platforms and policies.

Speaking of raw, reptilian sex, what was your favorite murder in the Pitt/Freeman film, Seven? Early surveys show sloth with a substantial lead, followed by gluttony, greed and pride. The lust murder was too horrific for most. Don’t think about that scene the next time you’re … never mind.

I had a chance recently to weasel a foursome onto the Lightning W Golf Course in Washoe Valley, via the media parasite route. What a track. If you’ve got an extra $37,000 lying around in the checking account, and you don’t mind playing golf with lawyers, cosmetic surgeons and tycoons, you might pick up one of the last 200 memberships. Then be sure to invite your favorite RN&R columnist along to show you where the trouble is. The day we played, Gov. Bob Miller was in the foursome behind us. I don’t want to say the good guy was a little wild off the tee, but the carp population in the lake on number 10 took a big hit that day. If the Millers are on your holiday gift list, a box of Maxflis will do.