Are wormholes for real or just something that used to be in that TV series? And if real, is there any proof that can instantly transfer you to somewhere you want to be on the other side of the universe? I have a hard time watching science fiction movies and TV series and taking any of the supposed technology. For instance, I never believed the Star Trek transporter could sparkle crew members down to an alien planet and not mix and match the team's various parts on arrival. But then I also never believed in the jet back-packs in those 1950s serials that had Rocket Man zipping through the skies like a superhero. I do believe in galactic black holes, however, and that anything that goes into one of those ain't coming back out. I'm just not much into space or science fiction. I'll believe in wormhole travel the day someone returns from a trip through one.

As for space, it was amazing looking up as Sputnik streaked over my West Texas hometown, and I was late for class one morning because I was sitting in my car outside the school listen to the first US astronaut who actually broke free of earth's bonds to enter outer space. I watched on TV the first moon landing and knew it was a historic event. But I lost a lot of faith in NASA and the US space project when Gus Grissom and his two partners burned to death. I think NASA took and is taking too many chances and would be better off sending robots instead of humans into space.

Re: Hotseat! Grill a MoFo: rufnek
 

Rufnek, when you saw Sputnik streaking, did it turn you on? :D

Well, I've heard a lot of odd things from women, some good, some not so good. Heard a lot of lies from my first wife I didn't think anyone had the gumption to tell.

But I'm not holding up my life as something to copy. People have been hurt in the process. Was the pleasure worth the pain to them? And when you come right down to it, what does it prove anyway?

I've done a few things I'm proud of and several that are sort of shameful to the average person, but if I had it to do over again, I probably wouldn't do much different. I am what I am.

Re: Hotseat! Grill a MoFo: rufnek
 

No, there's no "evidence" that wormholes exist, but then again, there's almost just as little evidence that black holes exist. What about that one?

I'm surprised anyone would care--that's a lot of ancient history that didn't have much meaning except to the people involved. :)

Well, I don't like the sound of some of the stuff you did, and if I had been a man with a wife and my wife cheated on me with you, I'd wanna take a gun and shoot you square in the face.

But it's true that you are who you are and I'm glad I know you as an interesting autobiographical storyteller on a movie site. Your tales have been insightful and worth hearing.

Like I said, I don't know much about science, although believe it or not my daughter is an award-winning science teacher in Texas public schools. Closest I ever got to science was on one space shot my paper sent me out to the house of the head astronaut to cover the local angle in case the rocket exploded. That was long before the first space shuttle was lost but after Grissom's death. Anyway, a lot of their neighbors were out on the street in front of their house and I went to the door just to let the family know I was around so they would come out and say anything that they wouldn't want to read in the morning paper. To my surprise, the wife of the astronaut (I don't even remember which astronaut it was) invited me into the house and introduced to the guy's mom and dad who were there. The kids were off somewhere for the day (just in case things did go wrong so they wouldn't have to see it on TV). Anyway they insisted I stay with them to watch the blastoff--I did because it was more pleasant than standing outside in the heat. The wife and mother baked cookies and I sat on the couch and shot the breeze with his dad. We watched the liftoff and all the neighbors started cheering outside. I congradulated the family, thanked them for their hospitality, and got the hell out of there. My editor was mad later because I didn't turn in a color feature on the family waiting out the shot, but I reminded him my assignment was to cover the family in case something bad happened, which it hadn't. Those people had been awful nice to me under very stressful conditions, and I wasn't going to impose on their privacy.

Like I said, I don't know science or space and only heard of wormholes on TV dramas. I have watched documentary series on the universe and have heard scientists talk of black holes as if they knew they exist, and I've heard Einstein's supposition that if a person entered a black hole, the intense gravity would turn him into a string of atoms which would not be conducive to one's health.

:laugh: Boy, they don't call you Sexy for nothing! A one-track mind!

Sputnik was a long time before the streaking craze in the '70s. Now I did witness the event that I've always maintained ended streaking. Back on a slow night at the cop shop, the news room got the word that a bunch of strippers from the joints down on the square in Houston were gonna streak the square around midnight. This was back when Nixon was rationing gasoline, so it was a quite night for them too. So we reporters piled in our cars and headed to the square to see what was shaking, so to speak. I even called the city desk to see if they wanted to send a snapper to get some "tasteful" nude shots. There was a patrol supervisor sgt. pulled up to a squad car with two pollicemen in the middle of the square when we arrived so I went over to see if they were there for the streakers. "What streakers? the sgt asked. Told him the word was out dozens of strippers from the many joints around the square would streak that area about midnight (or whatever time). He turns to the other two cops and says, "Let's get the hell out of here," and they did. Went into one of the clubs to see what was happening and it was dead. I think we reporters outnumbered the staff and customers. I was talking to a couple of strippers who weren't too bad looking under the black lights and blue neon in the club. They confirmed that when the clock struck whatever, the square was going to be filled with naked strippers on the run. A few minutes before time, they started peeling off what little they had on and we reporters went outside to see the show. But instead of curb-to-curb T&A like they had been talking, what we got was 10-12 tired strippers and one male bartender. If the other clubs were participating, they apparently hadn't got the word.

Man, when those ol' gals came out of the dark lights of the club and hit the harsh rays of street lights, it was like Dracula being caught by the sunrise. The outside lights lit up all of the scars, stretch-marks, cellulite, sagging boobs, pimples, bruises, bad complexions, and trackmarks that the soft neon-lighting in the clubs helped cover up. It was hideous! What's more, there was a low hedge around the square that the strippers went over with sissor-like leaps. And on the other side of the first row of hedges, an ol' wineo was sleeping it off until awakend by the thundering herd. We tried to get a quote from him later as to his first thoughts when he looked straight up at what was flying over him, but by then he was in bad need of another bottle. Well, we got a few laughs and killed a couple of hours until deadline, but none of the newspapers or TV stations wanted a story on it. But I swear after that night, I never heard or read of another streaker on any campus or other event anywhere in the US. I always figured that when the professionals looked so bad streaking, the amateurs just gave up in disgust.

Well, thanks--I guess!

Although it sometime happens in the world, I've never been attacked when caught except my second wife gave me a black eye fwhen she caught me fooling around with her best friend. The girl's husband caught us but never lifted a hand. Hell, I never lifted a hand against the soldier my first wife ran off with. I mean, Carol was a pretty good lay, but not good enough to stand in line for. And like Groucho once said, why fight for her honor when it's more that she would do? Mark it up as a bad investment and move on.

I never could see the sense of beating up or shooting the guy she's been cheating with. Just means you'll have to shoot another one the next time. The one sure way of ending it is to shoot her. However, the best way I found to get over one woman is with another woman. There's always someone better around the next corner who can profit from your experience.

Yuck! I hope that ol' wineo got his next bottle fast. But ya know, it always turns out that way -- what sounds like a fantasy coming to life turns into a couple of duds barely getting the idea by. A marvelous idea gets a terrible execution -- I guess bimbos really don't have any brains.

Did the one male bartender do any streaking?

Yeah, the bartender was with them. Demonstrating his shortcomings, as David Niven once said.

Interesting that you still remember those shortcomings four decades later.

Well, I remember David Niven's remark about the shortcomings of the guy who streaked the Academy Awards years ago than I do any of the dimensions of the streakers I saw that night. I do remember there was one bartender with them because he was the only guy behind the bar when we went in the club. But that's all I noticed about him.

Don't go wishing me into something I'm not. :)

http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_kp...2rjoo1_400.jpg

I'll try not to. :yup: