Batter Up
I faced the worst crisis of my long and illustrious career as a manager.
But in the end faith in my team's heaviest hitter won the day. By Bill Vaughn

Although I’ve been married without a major indiscretion for almost three decades I still keep a lineup card.
     Like any conscientious manager, I change around the nine hitters on this roster whenever my team’s in a slump. For example, after the dish showed Garden State I inserted the incomparable Natalie Portman into the number eight spot and sent down Keira Knightly because of her impersonation of an inanimate object in Atonement. (However, while on her rehab assignment, if Ms Knightly can get back the kind of swing she had in Pride and Prejudice I’ll probably bring her up again.)
      Then there was that bittersweet moment after I saw The Out of Towners, when I had to tell Goldie Hawn that it was time to hang up her cleats. In her place, however, I was pleased to replace the longest reigning cutest actress in Hollywood with the newest cutest actress in Hollywood, Ms Hawn’s daughter, Kate Hudson, whose luminous portrayal of Penny Lane in Almost Famous got my scouts seriously hot and bothered.
     When Blake Lively appeared as a toothsome co-ed in Accepted I benched one of my veterans, Michelle Pfeiffer. Although I still applaud whenever I see her chewing gum in the Fabulous Baker Boys or meowing in Batman Returns, Ms Pfeiffer hasn’t had anything close to her career year in many seasons. I was surprised to discover that my wife, Kitty, had also penciled in Lively on her card, making room for the yummy Hollywood brat by giving Hugh Grant his unconditional release. And just this morning I decided that I need more pop from my cleanup spot so I sent down the erratic Parker Posie to make room for Maria Sharapova, the tennis player.
      After I took some heat last season for starting only babes and starlets I drafted Daljit Dhaliwal, who hosts ABC News Now. She has an MA degree in history and  economics and stuff like that from the University of London, and was also named one of People magazine’s “50 most beautiful people in the world.” I'd scouted more famous girl brainiacs, but all I found were Nazi skanks like Ann Coulter. While I don’t usually care about the politics of the players on my team I wasn’t certain that Coulter would be willing to bunt, or hit to left. The guys who had shamed me into this roster change featured players on their lineup cards such as Catherine the Great, the singer Natalie Merchant, lady CEO’s and women who never existed in the flesh—Betty Crocker was one. These were managers, I finally decided, who had allowed their minds to beat out everything else for control.
      After suffering through a dismal road trip with the politically correct but sensually inconsistent Ms Dhaliwal (she’s good with the glove but just can’t hit to save her life), I had to admit that I didn’t want women who made me think. I wanted women who made me dizzy. I finally replaced her with Amanda Peet, and I’ve never looked back.
      My all-time All-Star is that very heavy hitter, the woman who’s held down the number five spot on my roster for years, Meg Ryan. From French Kiss to You’ve Got Mail to Kate & Leopold, I believe Ms Ryan can do it all. Unfailingly adorable in that addled way that suggests episodic bouts of amnesia, she nevertheless hints that a social evening out could conclude with a really good explication by her of the suicide squeeze, say, or it could also end in slapping. Either way, a good time will be had by all. We engaged in a full and frank exchange of views after she got her lips puffed up like wheelbarrow tires, but following contract negotiations our relationship was stronger than ever.  [read more]

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Notes from Dark Acres By Bill Vaughn

Curdy Makes It Official. On August 18 Willis Curdy filed the paperwork that made his candidacy official. A Democrat, he will face far-right Republican incumbent Bill Nooney in the Nov. 4 election to choose a representative for Montana House District 100, home of Dark Acres. Voters will not be able to say that they can’t tell the difference between the two. In this election they have a super clear choice.

• Curdy comes from a Bitterroot Valley ranching family, and is a retired school teacher of three decades. He was a Forest Service pilot, a wildland fire-fighter, and a member of several unions. Nooney is a fat-cat oilman whose clan runs a string of non-union quicky marts.

• Curdy actually lives in House District 100. Nooney doesn’t.

• Bill Nooney’s been married three times. Willis Curdy has been married to Gloria Curdy for twenty-six years.

For differences, this is just the beginning. Click here for more. [august 18]

My lonely complaint.  Writing in the August 21 issue of Rolling Stone, Matt Taibbi reports that for a six-month period ending July 10 there was no Federal enforcement of U.S. campaign finance laws. That’s because Congress was dragging its heels over confirmation hearings for the new FEC commissioners, “leaving the agency without a forum.” Even though the agency is back at work it likely will not be able to catch up before the Nov. 4 election with the huge backlog of complaints and finance reports on its desks.

The Montana Commissioner of Political Practices is tying to wade through a similar backlog, but his problems aren’t Congressional, they’re financial. For a long time the Commission’s budget allowed the agency to employ only a part-time investigator. Even though it hired a full-time investigator in 2007, it’s faced with more cases than the office will be able to settle before the election. The Commissioner, Dennis Unsworth, told a local daily newspaper that his office is prioritizing the cases, bringing forward those that may have an impact on the November races.

That means my Nov. 20, 2006 complaint against a Missoula County candidate for County Commissioner will no doubt still be cooling its heels long after Nov. 4. I recently emailed Political Practices asking about when I could expect the Commission to take up the complaint and was told by Robert M. Hoffman, the investigator, that he’s on the case and will let me know when the investigation is finished.

Not that it seems to matter much anymore. Rebublican Jim Edwards got whipped so badly by the Democratic incumbent, Jean Curtiss, he probably won’t run for any office ever again.

My complaint against Edwards alleges that his campaign failed to submit a couple of its finance reports in time to make the deadlines. In his defense Edwards wrote me back: “My secretary had that in months ago, their (Helena) fax machine kicked it out . . . ”

Whatever. [august 17]


The incidents below were dealt with by various law enforcement agencies in Missoula County, Montana, from 6 am August 19 to 6 am August 20, 2008.

Missoula County law enforcement agencies booked at least twenty-four people into the detention facility during this period. Many of those persons were accused of driving while under the influence of alcohol. If you’d like to know who got booked into the Missoula County Detention Facility during this period go to:

http://www.co.missoula.mt.us/publicjailroster/

The jail roster sometimes takes a little while to load, especially on those busy Date Nights 1, 2 and 3, but if you're trying to find out stuff about your neighbors it's worth the wait. Note: In absolute numbers there are more people behind bars in the U.S. than there are in China.

On August 20 nine people were behind bars or recently released after being booked into the detention facility on charges involving, but not necessarily limited to, marijuana.

MC081908-66 8/19/2008 7:42:56 AM ALARM MPD
312 N HIGGINS AVE
Responding Unit(s): C265, C319, C325, C328
A20 ASSISTANCE RENDERED
A2 CITED/SUMMONS

MC081908-65 8/19/2008 7:38:18 AM PERSON TO BE REMOVED MPD
1900 S 3RD ST W
Responding Unit(s): C309, C320
A20 ASSISTANCE RENDERED

MC081908-68 8/19/2008 7:45:52 AM CRIMINAL MISCHIEF
MCSO
9045 HIGHWAY 200
Responding Unit(s): 440
A9 REPORT, AT LOCATION

MC081908-64 8/19/2008 7:37:56 AM HAZARDOUS VEHICLE MPD
S ORANGE ST AND S 6TH ST W
Responding Unit(s): C223
A22 ELIMINATED HAZARDOUS CONDITION

MC081908-56 8/19/2008 6:34:58 AM CRIMINAL MISCHIEF MPD
2511 55TH ST
Responding Unit(s): C327
A20 ASSISTANCE RENDERED

MC081908-54 8/19/2008 6:20:21 AM EXTRA PATROL MPD
100 N ORANGE ST
Responding Unit(s): C327

MC081908-58 8/19/2008 6:44:09 AM CAMPING IN THE CITY MPD
200 W BROADWAY
Responding Unit(s): C214
A2 CITED/SUMMONS

[READ THE REST OF THE REPORT]

Harper’s Bridge to go public. The Department of Fish, Wildlife and Parks approved a plan at its August 5 meeting to buy eight acres of privately owned land on the right bank of the Clark Fork River surrounding the ruins of this old wooden span. And the state will also accept as a donation from the owners, Rod and Julie Leister, four acres abutting the bridgehead on the left bank. During the review period the department received nine comments, all in favor of the deal.

Appraised at $63,225, these beaches and shoreline eight miles downstream from Missoula are a bargain. And their ownership by the state will ensure two things: Houses will never be built here, and the people of Montana will have permanent access to the water at one of the few places outside the city where the public doesn’t have to ask some landowner (such as Dark Acres) to play on the luscious river we all own. [august 19]

Fatalities surge. Since the March 20, 2003 U.S. invasion began 4144 American soldiers and military civilians have reportedly died in Iraq, 1146 more people than were killed in the 9/11 attacks. 102 of the U.S. fatalities were women.

One of the latest fatalities was 25-year-old Cpl. Stewart S. Trejo of Whitefish, Montana. The Department of Defense said he died August 7 while supporting combat operations in Anbar province.

Montanan Private Timothy J. Hutton, 21, died August 4 in Baghdad from injuries he reportedly suffered in a non-combat related incident. A native of Dillon, Hutton was assigned to the 54th Engineer Battalion, 18th Engineer Brigade, headquartered at Bamberg, Germany.

24 other Montanans have been killed and 224 wounded in this imperialist war, which has lasted longer than World War Two (icasualties.org). It's estimated that at least 86,658 Iraqi civilians have been killed by violent means (iraqbodycount.net).

Finally, 216 journalists and media assistants have been killed since the beginning of “hostilities.” [august 19]

Lee drowning, Gannett overboard. Missoula, Montana’s daily newspaper, the Missoulian, gleefully reported in the ticker on its July 16 online edition that the Gannett Company had reported a 36 percent decline in its second-quarter earnings.

Gannett, which is the largest newspaper publisher in the U.S., owns USA Today and the Great Falls Tribune, among many others. The media giant is a rival of Lee Enterprises, which owns the Missoulian and four other tame dailies in Montana.

But the Missoulian’s July 24 online edition has so far carried nary a word about Lee’s dismal third quarter earnings report, reported earlier in the day. According to the Iowa-based corporation, holders of its common stock would get a mere 6 cents per share, compared to the 49 cents per share stockholders got at this time last year, a huge 87 percent drop in profitability.

Lee’s performance was even worse than analysts had predicted. According to RTT News, market experts polled by First Call/Thomson Financial had expected earnings of 30 cents per share on revenue of $264.10 million. In fact, Lee’s third quarter revenue was $256.39 million, down 8.3 percent from this time last year. What the Missoulian also failed to report is that the price of Lee’s stock has plummeted even further than Gannett's over the last year, and is now considered by the SEC to be a Penny Stock.

Lee's stock hit its lowest point in at least 27 years on July 28 at $2.90 on the New York Stock Exchange, down from a 52-week high of $19.50. The morning of August 20 the stock was trading at $3.84. Some analysts blame the nosedive on the bloated and unrealistic price Lee paid for the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, Joseph Pulitzer's newspaper. But a more plausable explanation is that Lee's newspapers are just bland products consumers no longer want. In February of 2007 the stock was selling at $45.

On August 20 Gannett’s stock was selling for $18.41, down from a 52-week high of $49.75. [august 20]

Carving Land. The Clark Fork floods were early this year and stayed late. It wasn’t until August 1 that we felt comfortable crossing the water on our inner tubes to Radish Island, a mile upstream from the old Harpers Bridge in Missoula County, Montana. This is a forty-acre sanctuary of dunes and willows and cottonwood that we’ve claimed in the name of Dark Acres because so much of our soil has been stolen by the river and deposited on the island. The state of Montana refuses to even acknowledge our claim, but no matter—since the island is mostly under water for a couple months every spring no one can live there anyway.

The river changes the shape of this island every spring. When we first started going there in the early 1990s the downstream tip curved artfully around a shallow lagoon that our main dog at the time, a red heeler named Radish, loved to play in, until he finally died at a fine old age.

A few years later the spit of shiny white sand that defined the lagoon was washed away and replaced by a long, sharp point. Year after year the channels of river gouged the beds around this spit deeper and deeper. Some devious and dangerous whirlpools began whirling at the deep union of these channels. Last year we watched helplessly as Max, a big mutt belonging to some teenagers floating the river to Harper’s Bridge, was sucked into one of these maelstroms and disappeared. This is why we won't let our current dogs, the Border Collie, Clara, and the Welsh Corgi, Lyndon Baines Johnson, go near the end of the island.

This year the river has done some serious redecorating. The long, flat spit has been replaced by sheer walls of gravel fifteen feet high. The whirlpools are deeper, and they’re spinning faster than ever. [august 1]

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A Taste for Murder
A missing gourmand leads Sid Moran, private dick, on a sordid journey
through Missoula's restaurant scene. By Bill Vaughn

SOMEWHERE in the world of the living my cell whined like a frightened nun. I groped around in the carnage under my bed and found the damn thing, ringtoning Carlos Santana.
     “Yeah?”
     “Mr. Sid Moran?” The guy’s voice oozed with that slimy Brahmin accent John Kerry used when he was trying to impress somebody.
     “Yeah?”
“Mr. Moran, this is Anthony Hodgkins calling from Boston. I’m terribly sorry to disturb you on a Saturday, but this is an extremely urgent matter that requires immediate attention.”
I rubbed the guck from my eyes with the back of my hand and looked at my watch. It was 2:18. This was probably 2:18 in the PM because the sun was shining between my dusty blinds. Hodgkins sounded like a bill collector, but I couldn’t remember if I owed anyone in Bean Town money. “A matter in the nature of what?”
     “I’m the editor of Epicure Monthly, Mr. Moran.”
     He paused to see if I was impressed. I wasn’t.
     “Um, two weeks ago we dispatched our restaurant reviewer, Mr. Ned Singleton, to Montana for our continuing series about the regional cuisine of America. You may be familiar with Mr. Singleton’s work.”
     “I only take the Sporting Digest.”
     “Aha. Well, we haven’t heard a word from Mr. Singleton in over a week. And a check with his hotel in Missoula, the Holiday Inn at the Park, revealed that his room doesn’t appear to have been occupied for several days.”
     “And you want me to find him.”
     “Please.”
     “Hodgkins, why don’t you go to the cops”
     “Two reasons, actually. First, the police—especially your local authorities—are painfully slow in matters of this sort. Of course we fervently hope that nothing untoward has happened to Mr. Singleton, but he does have a deadline. Second, Epicure Monthly is an immensely respected institution among, shall we say, a certain demographic. Anything even hinting of misconduct on his part would tarnish the reputation of the magazine.”
     “Does this guy have a history of, uh, misconducting?”
     “Not at all. He’s always been very discreet.”
     “You mean he’s gay.”
     “We have a million loyal readers to consider.”
     The only thing I was considering was my bank balance. Adding in the loose change on the night table from my usual Friday night binge at Red’s with nightcaps at Al and Vick’s, I almost had enough to pay the rent on my room.
     “I don’t come cheap,” I lied.
     “I suspected as much, Mr. Moran. Therefore I have taken the liberty of Fedexing you a $1000 retainer. There’s also a contract stating that you will receive another $1000 when Mr. Singleton is located. And a rare photograph of the man we ask that you show to as few people as possible.”
     “Gurg,” I said, choking on my own schnapps-flavored spit.
     “Beg your pardon, Mr. Moran?”
     “Sorry. Heartburn. What’s the deal with the photo?”
     “For professional reasons Mr. Singleton is very sensitive about his identity. If a restaurateur were to recognize him he could inflate the normal quality of the cuisine and service, producing a distorted picture of the establishment. For that reason Mr. Singleton avoids publicity and often wears disguises.”
     “One picture’s not a lot to go on.”
     “I realize that. But I trust that you’re the only private detective in Missoula who can find Ned Singleton.”
     Things were looking up. “Now why do you say that?”
     “Mr. Moran, you’re the only private detective in Missoula.” [READ THE REST]
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High Noon
On these long hot days and big white moons
our thoughts naturally turn to the Perfect Martini. By Bill Vaughn

While savants debate the origin of the Martini, they’re in agreement that America’s trademark cocktail should only be made from gin. Of course, it’s your privilege here in the Home of the Free to swill vodka or Everclear or even moonshine from that elegant Y-shaped glass and call it a Martini, but please don’t try to pretend that you’re a member of our club.

The first gin was distilled from the oil of juniper berries by a 17th century Dutch professor of medicine named Franciscus de Boe Sylvius, who was seeking a blood purifier. The Dutch word genever was shortened by the English, and to my way of thinking the best gin for a Martini is the elegant English spirit, Bombay, chilled to zero degrees. The initial taste is sharp and glacial, like a stab wound from an icicle, and the “finish,” as wine lovers say, hints of licorice, coriander, almonds, and, naturally, the fruit of junipers.

Here’s how to make a High Noon, one of my favorite Martinis:

First, put your bottle of Bombay overnight in the freezer compartment of your fridge. There’s no danger that it will turn solid—most of these compartments are factory-set at zero, and Bombay will only begin to slush up at around -5 degrees. A half hour before Happy Hour put the glasses in the freezer, as well, inverting them to discourage frost.

Keeping gin frigid subdues the raw bite of alcohol so that the sublime flavor of the drink shines through. And prohibiting the liquor from any contact with water or ice assures that this aristocrat won’t be compromised by something, well, common.

When the glasses are cold pour the gin into a Martini shaker (or any clean, dry bottle), which has also been stored overnight in the freezer. Depending on taste, spritz the bowls of the glasses with a few sprays of vermouth from a mister, which has been chilled in the refrigerator (not the freezer—vermouth doesn’t contain enough alcohol to resist freezing at that temperature). Some tough guys believe that a true dry Martini should only be shown the vermouth, but I think that’s grandstanding. However, I always serve a small piece of chocolate before the drinks. Under the heading of making your guests happy, chocolate is the perfect warm-up act, and it also readies the palate for the exciting tension of a totally opposite taste.

Shake the gin till it’s frothy, pour immediately, and place in each glass a single dried tomato chip. These translucent confections, sliced ultra thin, are chewy and slightly acidic and mildly salted, another food friend of the liquor. Swimming in the glass, a radiation of red and yellow, the little globe looks like the sun in a seamless sky, a promise of the warm and lazy hours to come. [june 20]

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CHAPTER ONE  Although Lyndon Augustus Zackheim believed with the seamless confidence of an old and deep faith that American veeks suck, he ignored the Mercedes SLK, the tasty little Beamer and the Saab 9-5 Sedan with that awesome turbocharged V-6, and headed straight for the odious one-ton Jimmy that had creamed a Windstar at the intersection of Heritage Lane and Yankee Doodle Road.   MORE

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For your entertainment, a sporting event sponsored by the party that brought you the War in Vietnam, and also by the party that brought you the War in Iraq