Cameron and the Bystanders
Just when my faith in my fellow Americans was at an all-time low (it bottomed out pretty much when that trial lawyer apologized to the Vice-President for getting shot by him), the Powers-That-Be have happily provided me with a reason to hold my head up, walk with the wind at my back and just generally go all Bobby McFerrin.
That reason is Cameron Evans of
Cameron Evans —I mean this sincerely—has the stuff on which this country was built, an example of rugged individuality, devil-may-care gumption and what it means to have a keen sense of justice (to say nothing of fashion.) This is the sort of thing we might well have seen all the time had we, as a country, opened our eyes and voted for Ross Perot. Stockdale would have seen to it.
Cameron may have been the man of the hour when, in full superhero regalia, he helped stop Ken Lay that purse snatcher, but his talents were sorely needed a few days later in Plymouth, Indiana, of all places, or more specifically at the Sam Snead Restaurant of the Swan Lake Resort, where a Pabst Blue Ribbon promotional ad was allegedly confused—I swear—for a bomb.
According to the AP report, a bartender (who is not named in the story, which is probably wise) called the police at 12:30 AM to report a possible bomb. To wit, the blinking red light attached to the PBR promo. The building was evacuated and the police came and in “less than an hour,” according to AP, determined that all was well.
Now, you may be wondering how Cameron might have been useful in this situation. Had the blinking red light been a cunningly concealed bomb (the promo ad was suction-cupped to the bar’s window), sure, then he might have swooped in, carried it off and stuck it to that purse snatcher, or possibly Kenneth Lay, using Super Glue if necessary. But there was no bomb, which must have been obvious to anyone with an IQ greater than that of, say, sand.
Well, what I’m thinking is that Cameron could have pummeled that slacker bartender. It's 12:30 in the morning, for God’s sakes, and he's just noticing the “bomb”? Get real: The guy probably wanted the rest of the night off, maybe for a hot date—I’m sure absolute gaggles of man-hungry supermodels and A-list actresses party together nightly in the Sam Snead Restaurant of the Swan Lake Resort, there in Plymouth Indiana, so who could blame him? By the time the authorities were finished, he was thinking, it would be well past last call, so why bother even reopening? Plus, there’s the whole emotional trauma of the near-beer-ad experience to take into account—that’s gotta be good for another day or two off. More likely, though, he was counting on the Department of Homeland Security to come in and immediately bungle the situation so badly he, the bartender, would be able to take a week in Hawaii with those supermodels we were just talking about.
Instead, there he (the bartender again) would be, getting bitch-slapped by an irate, slightly out-of-breath guy (Cameron) in orange tights, black boots and a cape, right in front of God, witnesses and everything. The bystanders who cornered the purse snatcher back there in Minneapolis would be helping, and the crowd would be cheering them on, on the premise that since it looks like they’re not gonna get that last drink, they may as well enjoy some violence. This is
(Homage to Dave Barry: “Cameron and the Bystanders” would be a great name for a Doo-Wop revival group.)
And what if, God help us, the bartender really did think a PBR ad was a bomb? Well, I heard they’re hiring at the TSA….
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