About every five years or so, I remember about the KOOL-TV newsroom hostage drama, and down the rabbit hole I go. Can't help it--my morbid fascination compels me.

NOTE: Every time I watch this, I get PTSD from that horrible beige newsroom. You see kids, some sick fuck in 1972 decided that the color palette for offices, airports, hotels, and schools should be oatmeal, nut-brown, and shit-brown -- no deviations -- a trend that sadly lasted about a decade. It wasn't until 1983 or so that we collectively awoke from our '70s stupor and began to rebel. You might think the '80s went too far with the loud colors and the tackiness, but seriously, when the alternative is taupe and diarrhea? I'll take those eyeball-burning neons every time.

I mean, we just wanted to feel something, you know?

Without further ado, here's the video:

TL;DW -- In May 1982, a paranoid schizophrenic forced his way into a news station in Phoenix, held the whole crew at gunpoint, and got the anchorman to read his cracked-out ramblings live on air. 

Some highlights: 

At the 1:07 mark, we get our first mention of The Ten Prophets: "Johnny Cash, Ronnie Milsap, Eddie Rabbitt, Larry Gatlin, Hank Williams Jr., Rex Allen Jr., Willie Nelson, Conway Twitty, Loretta Lynn, Lacy J. Dalton, Tanya Tucker, and Barbara Mandrell." That's actually twelve prophets, but you know what? I'm gonna guess that Tanya and Barbara were last-minute additions, and Joseph Billie Gwinn just forgot to update the number. It happens. I'm also going to take a stab in the dark and say that Gwinn was a fan of country music, and that these "prophets" were simply artists that he was into at the time. If I were to assemble my own cabal based on my current Spotify playlist, I would select Debbie Harry, Freak Slug, Nation of Language, Bodega, The Bug Club, Suburban Lawns (Su Tissue is an otherworldly being with supernatural powers, and I NEED her in my corner!), Tegan and Sara, MJ Lenderman, Wet Leg, and Wishy. (Hey, this is fun!)

At 3:12 -- Imagine Joe Shmoe of Phoenix AZ innocently sitting down to watch the local news and hearing the anchorman say that cities full of gay men will soon be cropping up around the country. It's like something out of a Dead Milkmen song: "I told you Stuart, it's the queers! They're in it with the aliens! I swear to God, Stuart!"

13:34 -- "Ricky Reagan"? I'm not familiar with him.

At 14:27 We learn that unless the Queen heeds Johnny Cash's warning, Argentina will drop the A-bomb on London. "Oi Maggie! Eat this!" (Shouldn't have invaded the Falklands, I guess.)

22:03 The moment that Bill Close--absolute legend--nonchalantly takes the gun from Gwinn, distracts him with a handshake, then tells the police not to shoot him. The veteran newsman actually seems annoyed more than anything else, and I can see why. Born in 1921, he's from my grandparents' era, the "when men were men" generation. He has no time for your mental illness! "Cut the crap, for God's sake! Get a haircut and get a real job, son, and you won't be worried about Johnny Cash and Barbra Streisand and the Queen of England. Now bring me a whiskey neat!"  

Speaking of legends, the unsung hero of this whole ordeal is production assistant Luis Vila, who saved his female colleague from Gwinn's initial attack. I hope that KOOL-TV gave the guy a year-long, all-expense-paid vacation and a lifetime of free therapy for his trouble.    

And now I'll probably forget about this for another few years, until it's time to discover it again. 

    

  

 MEANWHILE, IN THE NEWSPAPERS.COM ARCHIVE: 
Perverts and Flashers and Drugs, Oh My!

April 15, 1982 was evidently a busy day for sexual deviants in Ferdinand, Indiana. One creeper was seen kissing children at the Ferdinand Elementary playground. A few blocks away, another guy appeared to be stalking a local housewife. And finally, over at the high school, a dude clad only in a jockstrap was exposing his naughty bits to the girls' tennis team.  

I love how colloquially this article is written. "Give the girls a show"? "Bent over for a rear view"? "Playing with himself"? Absolutely no pussyfooting around with vagaries like "committing a lewd act," and such. I applaud that choice. Sometimes, it's good to be blunt. 

I do take umbrage with the author's assertion that "these incidents turned out to be harmless." I mean sure, no one was kidnapped or killed, but I wouldn't call a mental case running around a school playground kissing small children "harmless," or, for that matter, some degenerate incel in a jockstrap flashing his dick and asshole at teenage girls. 

Looking at stuff like this, it's easy to see how my fellow GenXers, free-range kids raised by the "Eh, you'll be fine," school of child-rearing, went on to become hyper-vigilant control freaks once they had children. While I am eternally grateful that I grew up before helicopter parenting was a thing, still, I understand how and why it came about. 

We've seen and heard some shit, y'all.        

Speaking of some shit, this little item is from the July 29, 1982 edition of The Ferdinand News:

Heheheheheheheh, "marijuana trip." I kinda want to read Dr. Curt Scarborough's Basics on Abused Drugs, because anti-drug literature from the 1970s and '80s is a hoot! It's often peppered with phrases like "smoking grass" (I love it when old people call it "grass"!) and "all hopped up on the dope." Totally reminds me of the scene in Better Off Dead where Lane's dad, reading from a book titled Youth and the Drug Explosion, attempts to "rap" with his son.    

Of course, seeing as it was 1982, the warnings in Dr. Scarborough's book would soon be rendered obsolete on the day Nancy Reagan launched her "Just Say No to Drugs" campaign. Sure, people scoffed at the time, but you know what? Her efforts totally paid off. She single-handedly eradicated all drug abuse and addiction in the United States. Everyone immediately quit doing everything all at once. Kids started going to church and doing their homework instead of smoking doobs and hanging at the arcade. Strung-out yuppies flushed all their cocaine down the crapper and drank herbal tea. Famous punk artists quit heroin en masse and joined various religious orders. It's all completely true. 

So hey -- thanks, Nance!

The '80s were a trip, man.

WOW. 

I MEAN....

WOW.

Lord help me, I watched all 11 minutes and three seconds of this. I have no idea what in the holy hell it is or why it exists, but I think I'm obsessed with it now. 

Some questions:

Why is Carol Burnett in this? And was she only there for the dorky intro and outro?

If so, bravo, 1982 TV execs! That was the most random, goofy ass shit I've ever seen. 

Why did Cheryl Ladd have her own prime time TV special? I thought she was only famous for being a replacement on Charlie's Angels. Was someone trying to make her "happen"?

This weird shot makes it look like she's menacing a tiny Rick Springfield!

Speaking of Rick, did he raid Simon Le Bon's wardrobe? 

Yes, it appears that he did. And I like it.

What the hell is with the extra verse in "I've Done Everything For You," (at the 7:55 to 8:15 mark)? I've never heard that before. And yes, I'm well familiar with the works of Rick Springfield. You got a problem with that? 

Didn't think so, bitches!

Now that World War III is about to happen, can this insane TV special just be broadcast on every channel and repeated on an endless loop forever and ever and ever? I think that would be the best thing for all of us. 

Namaste.

RIC OCASEK 

:-( 

I've said it many times and I'll say it again: one of the things that really blows about getting older is losing idols from your youth. I'm not ready for that. Sure, Ric was 75 (75! That's weird too! My mom is 75 this year. And BTW how is my mom 75?) so you know, it's not like he was 30 years old and passed out with a needle in his arm or whatever, BUT STILL. I'm so not ready for this to keep happening. 

Probably my favorite Cars song ever, and the greatest video they made, IMHO. I love the part with the shoes escaping out the door. 

I know they got a lot of attention for You Might Think, with all the expensive visual effects and whatnot, but that song is so overplayed. And I got sick of seeing the video all the time. "Since You're Gone" is where it's at, man, and don't let anyone tell you different. Nothing compares to early MTV. That channel was golden circa 1981-1983.

Duran Duran

"New Religion" 

New Year's Eve

1982

On the last day of 2014, may I present Duran Duran on the last day of 1982 at the Palladium in NYC. "New Religion" has always been one of my favorite classic Duran tunes, and it kicks ass live. I especially love the way John (bass) and Andy (guitar) play off one another. And of course there's Simon. He really knows how to shake his.....tambourines.

Excuse me sirs, can I bum a ride?