In my line of work, everyone has a story that they hate to cover. A journalistic Achilles heel, if you will. Some of them are ongoing, mind numbing affairs that eat away at the soul year after year. The Presidency of George W. Bush is the first example that springs to mind in that category. Still others are short, and explosive, but no less painful in their crapitude. It could be a car accident that was caused by a clown that backs up the freeway for miles. Or, maybe a SWAT standoff that goes on for hours, even though officers aren't sure if the man inside has a rifle -- or a spork. Or, in the case of my friend Sam, the arrest of Gary Coleman.
I have written on this blog about Mr. Coleman, and his arrest, which was for backing over some guy in the parking lot of a bowling alley. What I haven't mentioned before is that every time Coleman appears in court my friend Sam (with a trusty cameraman, of course) has had to drag his cookies all the way down to Payson, wait outside the courthouse, and try not to doubt his choice of career while doing a minute thirty report on whatever happened with a straight face. Oh, and he also had to do so without commenting on Coleman's wardrobe, which has included toughskin jeans tucked into tiny cowboy boots, an enormous oversize cowboy hat, and, today, what appeared to be snow pants. There are few people I know that could show that kind of restraint. I know I couldn't.
As of today Sam is being set free of his Coleman shackles. Well, kind of. Gary decided to take a plea deal, and as long as he doesn't get in trouble in the next year his record will be wiped clean. He will once again just be a washed up child star, instead of a washed up child star with a criminal record. Yeah, sure, he'll still have to deal with the civil suit against him, filed the yahoo who assumes Coleman is just sitting on a pile of "Diff'rent Strokes" money, but we probably won't cover that. Even we have our limits. So, now all Sam has to do is sit back, and cross his fingers that Coleman keeps his nose clean. Well, that, and that Todd Bridges doesn't move to town...
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
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3 comments:
I almost called you last night to dish about Coleman's ensemble, but I figured "Gary Coleman's Fashion Chat" was not a good reason to call at 10:30pm. Emily, yes - I would have made that call immediately - but since you have to be to work at the crack of dawn, I showed some restraint.
I thought his snow pants were fetching - and why the hell is he driving such a HUGE truck? On him a mini-Cooper would qualify as an SUV.
Thank you for the fantastic laugh.
Hey it's December, the snow pant is a perfectly reasonable choice of lower extremity attire...
....if you are a 7 year old boy at recess making snowmen or having a snowball fight with your 7 year old friends... at recess.... in 2nd grade... when you are 7.
Did I mention the 7 year old age thing and the recess thing?
Tell me how Sam refrained from saying
WHATCHOO TALKIN ABOUT WILLIS
Because that kind of self control?
Super Human.
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