'Nam Killed Kurt Over Time v. 6

 

 

 

Photo: Life Magazine. Kurt's unit patrolled these hills. (Mutter's Ridge and the Rock Pile.) 

Some veterans die in battle while others return home to perish on the installment plan. My friend Kurt passed away in 2003 from liver cancer. He went quick, maybe a hundred days. The cancer was partially brought about by PTSD-inspired drinking coupled with hepatitis from a bad blood transfusion he underwent in Vietnam. Kurt could have skated on that particular war, but extended his enlistment in order to fight. Serving in Marine Recon, he won a Navy Commendation medal for helping his unit battle clear of an ambush.

Several Purple Hearts later, Kurt joined an ultra-secret outfit that probed the Ho Chi Minh Trail in Laos. Hacked out of the jungle, the Trail was a highway for the North Vietnamese to funnel men and supplies into South Vietnam and Cambodia. Because of our odd political posturing, Laos was officially off-limits to U.S. ground forces. That meant Kurt and his unofficial comrades were forced to ditch the bodies of their dead. The fallen would be listed as "Missing in Action in South Vietnam." It always bothered Kurt that families would be denied the closure of burial—or the recognition of bravery from a schizophrenic government.

A good portion of Kurt's post-war years were spent in alcohol and drug-fueled rage and self-destruction. In time, he made peace with his past. Little by-little, Kurt cut a trail over to serenity from which he rarely strayed. Despite a Master's Degree in electronics, he took a job driving a truck and fixing vending machines. (Kurt worked well unsupervised.) Getting married, buying a home, his last ten years were good ones.

I was a pallbearer at Kurt's funeral. He received a Marine Corps color guard, taps, and a view of the 2 Freeway stretching below in the distance, flowing past Forest Lawn Cemetery on its way to Eagle Rock. (Transportation played a big role in his life.) I recall Kurt when I drive past and often wish he could call down artillery on erratic drivers.

This Veteran's Day Kurt came to mind. And while he's at peace, I send prayers and best wishes to those still struggling with the silent baggage of war.

Happy Veteran's Day to all who served. You are remembered.

(This is a 2014 repost from Veteran's Day 2010 reposted once more in 2021, and now reposted in 2023.)

 

(And now 2024. I wish I could find the link, but there was a vet on YouTube who'd served in the Special Operations Group (S.O.G.) that conducted missions "over the fence" along the Ho Chi Minh Trail in Laos and Cambodia. It seems their missions were compromised by North Vietnamese spies employed by S.O.G.—not to mention the Walker Spy Ring—but also the capture of the spy vessel U.S.S. Pueblo by the North Koreans, allowed Russia, a North Vietnamese patron, to access our top secret conversations. Many missions never had a chance.)  

(And now 2025. Nothing to add this year.)

Happy 250 USMC!

 I was present at the 200th birthday shortly before my discharge. And while today the Corps is 50 years older, I was 50 years younger back then. Ah, but that's the way the whole life process deploys. All the best to my fellow Devil Dogs!

 

web.wgpays 

Daffy Duck Awaits His Close Up

A Duck, A Dream, A Powerful Friend, A Dream

 A header most poetic, but here is the old Jack L. Warner footage, dolled up with some modern day editing and closing with a promo for Twin Cities Con, coming up early next month. 

 

John P. McCann Channel 

Jack L. Warner on the Subject of Daffy Duck

Coming Tomorrow 

What Once Was Lost, Now is Found

Found in an old box in VHS form, mangled in the transfer, restored with new images and now presented for your viewing pleasure. The ancient Jack L. Warner footage was part of a pitch to the old WB Network by Paul Rugg, Doug Langdale, and myself. 

 

We thought a primetime Daffy Duck show might be a pleasing venture for Warner Bros. We were incorrect. 

 

However, a portion of the video survives along with a poster for the upcoming Twin Cities Con featuring former Warner TV animation aces Tom Ruegger, Paul Rugg and Paul Dini. I'm listed, but family matters will probably keep me close to home. Stop by Wednesday.

 

Lost Hamster Video Surfaces

'Idaho' Found in Box

 In VHS form from 1997. But now Private Idaho is transferred and ready for 2025 viewing. Under the supervision of Grant Moran, writers Wendell Morris and Tom Sheppard and myself were tasked with preparing a pitch video for a new animated show. The premise revolved around a caged hamster and his dreams of high adventure. Here's what we came up with. According to Grant, "Comedy Central ordered six episodes. WB Animation Business Affairs guy insisted on 11 and wouldn't relent. The deal died. And this was when Comedy Central was half owned by WB. Devastating." I concur.

Happy Independence Day v.2

 I've been a slob, a loafer of the first rank in ignoring this blog. And here I stand, on the brink of 20 years of continuous posts to a select audience. Nevertheless, I present a sampling of past July 4s (and a 5).

The Onion

Memorable July 4th Events

Thanks to the Founding Fathers for sticking their necks out and declaring independence when it was unclear they could back up such a deed. (I recommend David McCullough's book 1776 if you wish to read how the British kicked the American army off Long Island, chased George Washington from New York, and came very close to mopping up his ragged little force.)

History aside, here are several recollections from July 4th past: 

5Ks   

Mark up another one today. (Only 3 miles.) Ran around the golf course at Griffith Park along the soft dirt bridal trails where you rarely see a horse while maneuvering past their rounded droppings. Felt good, no injuries, taking it very slow. In the past, there have been runs and walks in:

2007

2010, 2015

5th of July Party 1981

Close enough for a list. This epic bash saw an entire Hollywood apartment building unite in pursuit of a drunken bash that began around 11:00 AM at the pool, spread from the building, down the block to a bar, back to the building and inside an apartment where it continued until the cops showed up at 3:00 AM. My recollections are fuzzy due to age and staggering drunkenness.

1986

This year, repairs were finally completed on the Statue of Liberty and there was to be a big televised event with more fireworks than Saturday night in the barrio. An old improv friend invited me to a party down near the beach. I'd once had a crush on Lisa. She reluctantly informed me of her gayness. But I still didn't give up, as I'd met women before who were "gay for a day." In any case, Lisa's party was lesbian central. Out of 22 women, only three were straight. One was ill and left early, the other nursed a bad sunburn, and I didn't hit it off with the third. No matter. We all had a grand time watching fireworks over the ocean off Santa Monica. The following year, Lisa moved to Sedona, Arizona with a girlfriend, bought a house, and waited for UFOs to circle Coffee Pot Rock. (I could be wrong about the last part.)

1976

Bi-centennial. A big deal. My sister was attending Western Illinois University. Out in the cornfields, near the Mississippi River, not far from Iowa, stood the little town of Basco. There they made their own fireworks and put on a patriotic pageant every 4th. My girlfriend and I, my sister, and her friends attended. We ended up trashed in some field drinking Grain Belt Beer and watching the fireworks crackle. We all bought tee-shirts that said "Basco 1976." I drove back to the farmhouse my sister was renting, hunched over the wheel, barely able to see.

Horror Book Discount Continues

That's about all the July 4th memories I can salvage for the day , but there's always time to flog a book. Through today and ending Tue. July 5th, Hallow Mass continues to be available in Kindle form for under three dollars. Cool off with a nice chilling horror tale of old grudges, new terrors, and unadorned sorcery. A pleasant weekend to all! 

Winds and Fire Over LA

 

Fires in Altadena burn on the horizon as the wind worsens.

 

Goodnight Everybody! Podcast and I

Goodnight Everybody! was gracious enough to invite me on last night for a chat about things Animaniacs, Freakazoid! and other topics animated, as well as spirited discussions about plums and the odd yearnings of farm animals. Listen in for more.

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https://x.com/JohnPMcCann2/status/1876492106677789179

Justin Trudeau, Ted Danson and Me

 Happy New Year! Here is Halloween long ago, back when I still had a prostate.

Merry Christmas '24!!

 

The Huntsman in "Attack of the Vortex"

On the Freakazoid! series, The Huntsman was noted for his inability to engage with crime due to a downturn in mayhem. As a change of pace, I wrote an episode where The Huntsman found a foe at last, but the studio had other plans.
 

Running Update

 Illness, depression, and various other distractions have served to diminish running. I have a 5k approaching in January and a half-marathon in February and aren't prepared for either. I will have to do what I can in the remaining time. This year has been rocky on the health front and it would be nice to start off '25 strong.

d

 

'Nam Killed Kurt Over Time v. 5

 

 

Photo: Life Magazine. Kurt's unit patrolled these hills. (Mutter's Ridge and the Rock Pile.) 

Some veterans die in battle while others return home to perish on the installment plan. My friend Kurt passed away in 2003 from liver cancer. He went quick, maybe a hundred days. The cancer was partially brought about by PTSD-inspired drinking coupled with hepatitis from a bad blood transfusion he underwent in Vietnam. Kurt could have skated on that particular war, but extended his enlistment in order to fight. Serving in Marine Recon, he won a Navy Commendation medal for helping his unit battle clear of an ambush.

Several Purple Hearts later, Kurt joined an ultra-secret outfit that probed the Ho Chi Minh Trail in Laos. Hacked out of the jungle, the Trail was a highway for the North Vietnamese to funnel men and supplies into South Vietnam and Cambodia. Because of our odd political posturing, Laos was officially off-limits to U.S. ground forces. That meant Kurt and his unofficial comrades were forced to ditch the bodies of their dead. The fallen would be listed as "Missing in Action in South Vietnam." It always bothered Kurt that families would be denied the closure of burial—or the recognition of bravery from a schizophrenic government.

A good portion of Kurt's post-war years were spent in alcohol and drug-fueled rage and self-destruction. In time, he made peace with his past. Little by-little, Kurt cut a trail over to serenity from which he rarely strayed. Despite a Master's Degree in electronics, he took a job driving a truck and fixing vending machines. (Kurt worked well unsupervised.) Getting married, buying a home, his last ten years were good ones.

I was a pallbearer at Kurt's funeral. He received a Marine Corps color guard, taps, and a view of the 2 Freeway stretching below in the distance, flowing past Forest Lawn Cemetery on its way to Eagle Rock. (Transportation played a big role in his life.) I recall Kurt when I drive past and often wish he could call down artillery on erratic drivers.

This Veteran's Day Kurt came to mind. And while he's at peace, I send prayers and best wishes to those still struggling with the silent baggage of war.

Happy Veteran's Day to all who served. You are remembered.

(This is a 2014 repost from Veteran's Day 2010 reposted once more in 2021, and now reposted in 2023.)

 

(And now 2024. I wish I could find the link, but there was a vet on YouTube who'd served in the Special Operations Group (S.O.G.) that conducted missions "over the fence" along the Ho Chi Minh Trail in Laos and Cambodia. It seems their missions were compromised by North Vietnamese spies employed by S.O.G.—not to mention the Walker Spy Ring—but also the capture of the spy vessel U.S.S. Pueblo by the North Koreans, allowed Russia, a North Vietnamese patron, to access our top secret conversations. Many missions never had a chance.) 

Happy 249 USMC!

After a three-month absence due to writing and things, I return to wish the United States Marine Corps a happy birthday. Alas, they have not escaped the rot of wokeness, but seemed to have weathered the onslaught better than some of the other services. May they continue to be always faithful.
 Fishing Stage

Ticketmaster Data Breach Update

Twinkl

After an email exchange, a Ticketmaster employee could not explain why my information was on a Ticketmaster website, or third-party cloud, why I couldn't sign up for a year of free credit monitoring services offered by Ticketmaster, and, since there's no record of me even registering for Ticketmaster, when I would be removed from the data base that exposed my data in the first place.

As of Tuesday morning, there has been no word from Ticketmaster.

More t/k.  

Ticketmaster Data Security Breach

 

St. Bonaventure University Online

Ticketmaster sent me a letter that my info had been compromised because of a breach in their security. Here's my email to the company:

Hello,

Received a letter from Ticketmaster stating that some of my personal information may have been compromised by a hack.

Ticketmaster offered credit monitoring via a TransUnion company called Cyberscout.

I logged onto the www.mytrueidentity.com url listed in the letter. However, the website would not allow me to open an account. The website listed a number to call.

Calling the number, I was directed to a call center possibly in Mumbai or elsewhere in the Indian subcontinent. The person attempting to assist me spoke and understood English with some  difficulty. For example, she was unaware that U.S. phone numbers are prefaced with an area code. After a number of attempts, I politely ended the call as we were unable to communicate.

Do you have any suggestions how I might obtain the credit monitoring services offered?

PS: I wasn't aware that I even had a Ticketmaster account. It must be prehistoric.

 

Here's Ticketmaster's response:

Thanks, we’ve received your request

You should receive a reply from one of our Fan Support Representatives in 12 hours, or sooner.

Times may vary depending on volume and demand.

 More t/k

Back from the Northwest

Mount Rainer peeks out from behind the trees on a back-country road in south-central Washington state. 

Back from visiting my sister, who is in the hospital. A long-time MS sufferer, she's recently sustained kidney and nerve damage. The care facility is a mixed bag of outstanding nurses and nurse assistants and odd, ill-trained goons. The doctor in charge is a breezy fellow, according to my sister, who is loath to spend much time with his patients. Possibly it cuts down on his main function: billing Medicare.

More soon as we battle to get my sister the care she needs.

A Big Dish of Peas

An old Internet favorite of Orsen Welles wrangling with a suit over advertising copy.

 

 

Dr Moon Rat

A Hat Trick of Bad Health

 Ever since my return from way down yonder in New Orleans, my health has been many things, none of them positive.

My wife took ill on the plane-ride back to Los Angeles. Naturally, that meant that I would take ill several days hence. Sure enough,  I came down with a bad fever, much worse than COVID. It was like having mononucleosis once more. I slept, napped, woke up, then went to bed. However, I did drop ten pounds, a poor man's weight loss program.

Getty Images

 

Just as the fever abated, I came down with a urinary tract infection. Spending the night peeing out five drops of bloody urine helped eliminate my recent sleep overage. As a male, UTIs often mean trouble in the kidneys and/or bladder. At an UrgentCare, I was given a kidney/bladder ultrasound, a cocktail of antibiotics injected into my butt and a prescription for big plump antibiotic tablets. I took them all, but it felt like the injected obliterated the infection.

So, feeling good, except I noticed a rash developing all over my body. At first, I thought it was some kind of prickly heat. But that night, I woke at 2 AM unable to sleep, because the stinking rash itched like blazes. I pressed the skin, took cold showers, thought of picnics and adorable kittens, but nothing checked the relentless itching.  

And the rash and itching were spreading to unrashed body regions.

Getty Images

 The next day, the dermatologist said I was undergoing a drug reaction to medicine. Ah, but which medicine? The doctor took a pair of biopsies to nail down the culprit. Meanwhile, I was instructed to finish out the plump UTI tablets, then stop taking my normal medication for cholesterol and high blood pressure. Once again, my bottom received another injection—cortisone. The itching diminished that day and the next and the next. Now I must lather my rash daily with a medicinal cream plus pop a pair of over-the-counter medicines. Slowly, the rash fades.

Anyway, several days have passed without me visiting a doctor. I'm delighted. If this keeps up, I might even start running again.

Getty Images

 

Disturbing Good Cheer

Fun? Of a sort. A "festive" figure on greets riverboat passengers dockside along the Mississippi River in New Orleans.