The Joan De Arc Crusader

On the INSIDE: Editorial Page ...A2 / Chuck's Corner, Nostalgia ...A3 / Sports, Entertainment …A4

Avenue Weather: Partly cloudy with possible late afternoon showers. High 68 / Low 35

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(JP)- The extraordinary outcome of Election 2000 has brought a certain amount of political chaos and unique excitement to the entire country, and Joan De Arc Avenue is in no way an exception. Local residents are almost evenly divided on the effects of the so-called "butterfly ballot," the controversially designed Palm Beach, Florida ballot, and as usual they are not at all shy about sharing their opinions. "Gore is just trying to steal this election, and by God I'm not going to put up with this crap," foamed J. Doghollar at the mouth. "If I have to, I'll go to Florida myself and kick his commie ass. Butterfly ballot my ass!" A Crusader poll taken shortly before the election revealed a deeply divided electorate on the Avenue:

The Joan De Arc Crusader Scientific Poll (11/8/00)

"Who is your current preference for President of the U.S.?"

Bush: 47%

Gore: 47%

Nader: 2%

Buchanan: 0.5%

Other: 0.5%

"Get out of my face:" 1.5%

"I'm calling the cops:" 1%

"Your newspaper sucks:" 0.5%

(Poll has a margin of error of +/- 20%)

Gore supporters seem to be a bit more circumspect about their candidate's political fate. "I demand a recount, but beyond that, I don't really care much," said Dewey Williams. "I mean, does it really make much difference? Gush, Bore, whatever." Other Gore supporters were clearly bitter about the Crusader's decision to endorse Green party candidate Ralph Nader. "You threw the election to that ignorant Texan," commented one Gore supporter who declined to be identified. "Nader couldn't win his way out of a paper bag. I hope you're happy now."

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On the INSIDE: Editorial Page ...A2 / Chuck's Corner, Nostalgia ...A3 / Sports, Entertainment …A4

Moon Phases: ●New: November 25 ◐First Quarter: December 3 ◌Full: December 11 ◑Last Quarter: December 17

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OK folks, so you ignored this newspaper's recommendation and decided to go ahead and give the Bidwills their $300 million worth of corporate welfare. So be it. Just don't come whining to us when the cost overruns, hidden tax potentialities and mismanaged construction oversights began to emerge. And all for the benefit of the biggest losers in the history of organized professional football. Now the Cards will have a beautiful, taxpayer supported state-of-the-art facility in which to lose their games. Swell. It should be clear to all by now that Bill Bidwill is not particularly interested in having a winning team. No, sir. His clear priority is maximizing his already considerable profit, and that ladies and gentlemen is the sole explanation for the Cardinals' insistence upon a shiny new stadium. The argument that Proposition 302 will cost Arizonans naught is absolutely absurd. But even if this be the case, why should any taxpayers anywhere have to raise huge sums of money to build a facility for the benefit of a private business? Professional sports owners are perfectly able to lavish hundreds of millions of dollars on salaries for obscenely overpaid athletes, but they need tourists and car rental customers to build their stadia for them? The truly appalling aspect of all this is that the same people who will be taken to the cleaners by this deal are in many cases the very ones who voted for it of their own free will. Irony once again defines the State of Arizona. The more things change…

As families gather on Joan De Arc Avenue today for the annual celebration of Thanksgiving, the Crusader staff proudly presents their top ten list of the things for which we are especially thankful this year:

7) A legislature that gives away money to everybody now, not just to lobbyists and other special interests

6) eBay, where you can buy an endless supply of junk from the comfort and convenience of your very own easy chair

I must admit I had a terribly difficult time this election, trying to choose between the liar and the moron. What kind of choice is that, anyway? Why are we burdened every four years with a pair of presidential wannabes who spend millions upon millions of special interest dollars for the chance to piss on the rest of us? When will average Americans wake up and smell the damn coffee? God almighty help us.

How come I never got a Ladmo Bag, huh? I'm not good enough, is that it? You all think you're better than me, right? I watched that stupid show for 25 years, and zilch, zippo, no bag for me. No sir. Fine. Ya'll go to hell.

Arizonans recently got a taste of environmentalism Republican style, thanks to ex-House Speaker Jeff Groscost, a host of greasy palmed lobbyists, and our hapless state legislature. Unfortunately, the acrid flavor threatens to linger on our collective palate for some time to come.

Leave it to the greedy conservatives to dream this baby up. Beneath the noble facade of a much needed plan to improve air quality was constructed a behemoth of a cash giveaway, designed to line the pockets of the already rich and powerful while doing absolutely nothing to reduce vehicular emissions.

So what exactly is the recipe for this particular disaster, you ask? Get out your 3 by 5 index cards and copy this down, courtesy of chef Groscost:

Gather several dozen bloated car dealerships, a number of well ripened engine modification firms and a handful of local fuel company magnates. Remove any “excess” cash that may be dangling loosely about them. Blend vigorously in a large container, adding one clueless Governor at just the right moment. Let simmer until extremely overdone and you find that the pot is becoming crowded with money grubbing SUV purchasers. Pour off liquid, and use to soak the taxpayers thoroughly.

Add five pound of loopholes and bake at 500 million dollars, er… I mean degrees, for two weeks. Be sure to threaten anyone within listening distance that you’ll not share any of this with them if they aren’t lined up by the time it gets out of the oven. Act surprised when long lines form.

Unfortunately, this recipe ill serves us all. Upon opening the oven there is nothing but a huge, black cloud of smoke. Oh, and that long line of greedy would-be luxury SUV buyers. The ones with their hands out.

Way back in the 1960's, Avenue residents had relatively limited options when it came to the pursuit of local entertainment venues. As a matter

of fact, those options were very severely limited. In 1960, a brave and ambitious attempt was made to address this situation with the opening of a Disneyland-inspired amusement park in the desert, proudly christened "Legend City." Featuring an old west motif and many of the standard amusement rides of the day, Legend City was located on Washington Street near Papago Park, on land that is now owned and occupied by the Salt River Project.

Legend City was doomed to failure from the very beginning, a victim of the hot Phoenix summers, gross mismanagement, and unexpectedly light attendance over the long term. Here on Joan De Arc Avenue, local families made a number of memorable pilgrimages to the park, but sadly these were not enough to save the place. Not even Carl Bueker's uncharacteristic largesse in taking his kids on one occasion was enough. Bankrupt by the late 60s, Legend City was reorganized and reopened in 1969, and once again experienced less than astounding success. Although closed forever in 1983, this unique amusement park will be long and fondly remembered by Avenue residents for such timeless attractions as the Lost Dutchman's Mine ride, Indian Canoe ride, Penny Arcade and Wallace and Ladmo's legendary stage shows at the Lagoon Amphitheater. Legend City was a loser. But alas, there will never be another place like it. Just as Phoenix itself will never again be what it once was.

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The empty seats at NBA and MLB games this season are a telling sign that something is significantly amiss in the world of professional sports. In 1999, the Colangelo Diamondbacks won their division title going away, and came within a whisker of going to the World Series. And their reward? A marked decline in season ticket sales and overall attendance. NFL and NHL teams are experiencing similar downturns in business to varying extents. The Suns have been reduced to marketing mini-season ticket packages. What does it all mean? Some would say that fans are finally becoming disaffected by the dilution of talent that constant expansion has brought to all of the major professional sports leagues. Others might reckon that the media itself has reached the point of full saturation by sporting events, resulting in an inevitable decline of interest. This writer sees a more fundamental process at work. Maybe, just maybe, people are tiring of watching arrogant, overpaid athletes going through the motions for a few hours a day and then laughing all the way to the bank(s).

Perhaps, just perhaps, the average sports fan has finally had his or her fill of ever rising ticket prices, pay-per-view fees and seat "licenses" which do nothing to improve the product but do serve to inflate the bank accounts of greedy owners and players. There was a time, my children, when pro athletes played mainly for pride. Yes, that's right-- pride. A time when players would spend their entire careers with the same team, out of a sense of loyalty and tradition. A time when tickets were easily affordable and accessible to everyone, including families on a budget. Now that the almighty dollar rules the world of sports, these quaint notions have long since become a thing of the past. The fans of today not only subsidize this avarice, they willingly build stadiums and arenas for the team owners with public tax dollars. And yet the ultimate result of all this is ennui, pure and simple. It all seems less interesting now than it once did. Pro sports are now just a huge corporate enterprise, nothing more nor less. Something has truly gone forever. Or is it just me?

The most talked about holiday film of the year is without a doubt Ron Howard's How the Grinch Stole Christmas, starring Jim Carrey as Dr.

Seuss' Green Meanie of the Christmas season. Let us be brief. The make-up is fabulous. The special effects are excellent. Carrey does a very cute and credible job as the Grinch. And he looks just like the one in the famous cartoon. Director and co-producer Ron Howard makes only one slight miscalculation here, but it's fatal. And we don't mean yet again casting his brother Clint in a prominent role. Opie has tried to take an extremely thin, lightweight story (as charming as it is in a 30 minute cartoon and in the book), and stretch it into a full-length motion picture. No cigar.

Some of the individual scenes are amusing, but they simply do not add up to a coherent whole. Worse, they tamper with the good Doctor's original intent. Probably Howard's most egregious decision was to give the Grinch a love interest in the story, portrayed by Christine Baranski. What possible purpose could be served by this plot device? The Grinch with a girlfriend? Hello? The movie is also padded out by having Cindy Lou Who (Taylor Momsen) experience her first meeting with the Grinch early in the story, rather than toward the end when the Grinch, clad as Santa, is stealing all the Xmas goodies. That was a genuinely touching scene in the original cartoon, but such emotional capital is largely expended by the time the scene comes along in the film. There is also some very crude, un-Seuss-like humor in the movie. When the Mayor of Whoville winds up kissing the Grinch's dog's butt, well, we say it's time to hop on pop and forget about the whole thing.

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