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Governor J. Fife Symington III has the timing of Wile E. Coyote. Only the Fifester would huddle with tobacco lobbyists (probably in a smoke-filled room), then yank the state out of a $500 million lawsuit against the tobacco industry. And only he would announce his bold move on the very day that researchers announced the first cellular link between tobacco smoke and lung cancer.
Could he possibly top that? Of course. He’s the Fifester, King of Irony and Dupery.
He declared October (we are not making this up, Dave Barry notwithstanding) “Fraud Awareness Month.”
Our guv issued the proclamation at the request of organizers of the Western States Fraud Conference, which will meet this weekend in Scottsdale. The theme of the conference is “Abuses of Trust, Power and Money.” (The Fifester reportedly declined the group’s requests that he pose for a poster and/or be cross-examined.)
Surprisingly, Symington’s 23-count federal criminal indictment on fraud, extortion and perjury charges isn’t on the conference agenda. Neither are the two civil lawsuits alleging fraud that creditors have filed against Symington in U.S. Bankruptcy Court. Nor is yet a third fraud lawsuit filed by the bankruptcy trustee, who, like the creditors, seeks to block Symington’s effort to erase $25 million in debts.
Larry Adams, director of the Arizona Chapter Association of Certified Fraud Examiners and a conference organizer, says Symington’s troubles are certain to be a topic of informal discussion. Adams laughed and downplayed the significance of Symington’s signing of the fraud awareness proclamation.
“It’s just a proclamation, it’s not a confession,” says Adams.
No, that would come after declaration of “Fraud Amnesty Month.”
Who Sprung Uncle Charlie?
Why are folks at the Phoenix Swim Club sporting nose plugs?
Charlie Keating is back.
The convicted financier was released October 3 from a Tucson federal prison on $300,000 bail pending a hearing to determine whether he should serve out his 12-year sentence or get a new trial.
In the meantime, Keating has joined the Phoenix Swim Club’s competitive team for adults. Keating financed construction of the Phoenix Swim Club, a world-class facility on East Campbell Street, before he was convicted on 73 counts of bank fraud and racketeering in federal court in 1993.
The 72-year-old Keating’s gene pool is also world-class, if not always law-abiding. He joins a family of champion swimmers practicing at the club, including grandson Gary Hall Jr., winner of two individual silver medals and two gold relay medals at the Atlanta Olympics. Keating himself was a national collegiate champion at the University of Cincinnati. His son, Charlie Keating III, was a member of the 1976 Olympic swimming team, while his son-in-law, Gary Hall, was a member of three U.S. Olympic swimming teams.
The lanes at PSC will likely be the closest Charlie’ll get to liquidity for some time.
ASU’s Sergeant Pepper Spray
As Sun Devil Stadium erupted with delirium in the moments following Arizona State’s thrilling double-overtime win against the University of Southern California on Saturday, ASU police Officer Sergeant Allen Clark stood ready, willing and able to poop copiously upon the party.
Hundreds of celebrating fans stormed the field at the final gun. Sergeant Clark wasn’t about to let anyone through his position, the northeast end-zone gate.
A couple of men were leaning against the gate, but no one was making a push to burst through when Clark arrived on the scene. Dressed in a blue jumpsuit with the word “Investigator” emblazoned on the back, Clark reached over the seven-foot-high, chain-link fence and unleashed a blast of pepper spray into scores of fans–including some children–walking toward the exits.
It’s unlikely Clark could see who he was spraying; the fence was covered with padding, blocking a clear view. But The Flash saw the impact as contented spectators became confused and partially incapacitated. They pressed their hands against their stinging eyes.
ASU police officials say they have launched a formal investigation into the incident and are asking anyone involved to contact them at 965-5056.
As punishment, The Flash suggests that Sergeant Clark be locked in a room and subjected to an endless loop of all commercial announcements made during a Sun Devil game.
This Just In: My Hair Will Stop a Bullet
Richard Mack, the Graham County sheriff and idol to gun nuts everywhere, was defeated in the September primary. Now he’s thinking about changing professions.
He’s asked at least one Valley TV station to consider him for its news team.
“Journalism has always intrigued me, and I would be very interested in a position as a commentator, political analyst or a reporter,” Mack wrote to one local station.
Mack became a darling of the National Rifle Association after he sued the federal government over the Brady Bill. He’s been on Donahue, for Pete’s sake. But folks down Safford and Thatcher way apparently thought all the national attention was making the Mackster just a tad uppity.
They gave him a political pistol-whipping.
Thank God She Didn’t Want a Hunkpapa Hostess
Today’s Jeopardy! answer: Trail of Tears. Wounded Knee. The Arizona Republic’s classified advertising section.
The question: Name three places where Native Americans are mistreated.
This week’s classified blunder started when Chrysa Kaufman, chef/proprietor of Scottsdale’s highly regarded Rancho Pinot Grill, phoned in to place an ad.
Like many restaurant owners, Kaufman finds it difficult to find and keep good help. Right now, she’s looking for a sous chef. An ad in the Republic, she reasoned, would target the right people.
Perhaps it would have, if the Republic staffer who took the call hadn’t been a few arrows short of a quiver.
Potential food-service employees scanning Sunday’s classified ads might be excused for wondering just what kind of restaurant Kaufman is running. That’s because her ad told the world that Rancho Pinot Grill is looking for a “Sioux chef.”
Apparently, however, it does pay to advertise. Kaufman has already had inquiries from nearby Fort McDowell and an Idaho Native American.
No word yet if the restaurant will be changing its name to the Lakota Grill and offering an all-Indian fry bread menu. In the meantime, we have a suggestion for Kaufman: Call your attorney, and Sioux.
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