Maybe We're All the Hells Angels
Also: Go to Hell, Tulane.
In-brain soundtrack: “Rollin’,” Randy Newman
Can check: Tatte house latte’
Golf hole living rent-free in my head: 11th hole, Tain GC (Tain, Scotland)
. . .
The Hell’s Angels of the mid-1960s, as told by Hunter S. Thompson, were a convenient scapegoat for problems much bigger than loud motorcycles.
America was a nation in transition, hurtling from the decadence of post-war America toward the late Sixties, whether the grownups liked it or not. Violent crime was rising. So was automation in manufacturing, with predictable results for the people whose jobs suddenly belonged to machines. Cracks were emerging along fault lines of race, class, political worldview, and age.
No one was untouched. And when people are afraid, the only thing that’ll save them is someone to hate.
The Hells Angels unwittingly obliged.
For the most part, the Angels’ offensiveness was pretty unremarkable. They abhorred hygiene, and they were loud. Then, after a report of a barbaric group sexual assault in California during Labor Day Weekend 1964 (all charges eventually were dropped), the Angels became the target of bombastic (and occasionally libelous) news reporting. Sure, some of them had been convicted of felonies; some carried misdemeanor charges and overdue traffic citations. They were loud, looked scary, and did not belong — all of which frequently scared the shit out of the locals wherever they went. But those are not crimes. We’re talking about a group that, in Oakland alone, numbered a few hundred. Many had families; many owned homes. Most were not troublemakers and just wanted to ride bikes and be left alone.
If any of this sounds familiar, I’m sure that’s a coincidence.
Any time one group tells you that you should hate another group, the former is usually the problem.
. . .
Anyway, on to lighter topics.
There’s hope yet for Washington, D.C., in 2026 — and I’m not talking about the midterm elections.
Until about 12 months ago, conventional wisdom for my beloved Washington Capitals was that their window of opportunity for the Stanley Cup had closed about the time that Mike Pence didn’t have the courage. Even after an unexpected run to the Eastern Conference’s top seed in the 2024-25 season, the Capitals’ roster was seen as too top-heavy to make much noise this season.
Two things have upset that prediction.
First, Washington is getting elite production in areas where, even in 2024-25, they were good but not great. Winger Tom Wilson and Jakob Chychrun are having career years. Among goalies with at least 12 games played, Logan Thompson leads (as of this moment) the league in goals saved above expected per 60 minutes — and probably will be on the Canadian Olympics team. Even Old Man Ovechkin is on pace for a 40-goal season.
The Caps’ power play is abysmal, though, which leads to the second issue: the Eastern Conference is extremely average this year. Nine teams (nine!) currently have between 32 and 35 points in the standings — meaning that for a team performing as well as Washington, there’s an unexpected question to be answered between now and the trade deadline: do you go for it? This season was supposed to be a transition year: onboarding youngsters like Ryan Leonard and Ilya Protas while the old-timers steered toward the exit ramp. But all of a sudden, the Capitals are a productive power-play unit away from being a serious Stanley Cup threat.
Finally, something to stress about for the next several months.
. . .
Parting thoughts…
The College Football Playoff’s sixth seed, your Ole Miss, is at war with Tulane. Ole Miss has always been at war with Tulane. After the Lane Kiffin brouhaha, the Rebels are a popular underdog rooting interest. Finally, the rest of America will suffer as we suffer.
I learned today that the word “architect” can be a verb.
The Atlanta Braves will find out this week where their hard-won (or hard-lost, as the case may be) draft lottery pick will land them in next June’s draft.
Zootopia 2 has a 92% critic rating on Rotten Tomatoes. Do not believe these lies. Even by sappy kid-friendly pixelmation films (which I see a lot of nowadays), it’s Just. Not. Good. Hold out for the new SpongeBob movie later this month. And hold onto your butt for a weekend-long in-theater Lord of the Rings binge in January.
. . .