Felons, Billionaires, and Sheep Entrails

Every now and again in my fair city, I turn on the local news and find a “high-speed chase” in progress. Some dolt has stolen a car or truck and is on the run from the cops—on freeways, residential streets, sidewalks, even public parks.

Last week Mrs. B and I were settling in to watch another episode of Person of Interest, when we saw on the news several black-and-white police vehicles chasing a guy on a dirt bike (a motorcycle designed for off-roading). The scofflaw was zipping through a South Los Angeles neighborhood, and we watched it from the vantage point of a news chopper overhead. The news anchors narrated the event, with help from an expert on such pursuits, during which we found out he was a suspect in an armed robbery, and could be packing heat.

And in an absurdly ironic twist that is a sign of our times, the racing reprobate was talking on his phone! To whom, we do not know, but it seemed to me he was screaming, “Representative! Representative!”

At one point the fleeing felon went off-road and into Magic Johnson Park, where kids were playing soccer. He did some donuts on the grass and seemed to be contemplating his next move. One of the cop cars came up over the curb and started driving slowly toward the obnoxious outlaw. When it was about ten yards away, the abominable bonehead took off again. He was taunting the police!

Mrs. B and I started verbally rooting for the cops to take down the dirt bike dumbbell, like we were at a sporting event.

It ended as most of them do, with the dangerous dipstick crashing his bike and trying to get away on foot. That lasted about five minutes before he was found hiding in a recycling bin.

My wife and I looked at each other and realized we’d been watching for fifty minutes. That’s about the same length as an episode of Person of Interest, without commercials.

Which is why the local news programs show these chases. They get viewers glued to the screen, and after it’s over go quickly to a word from their sponsors. Win-win!

Some years ago I was showing a writer friend around Hollywood, as she was doing research for a book. We walked past an open-air bar with a big screen TV showing—you guessed it—a high-speed chase. A stolen tow truck was dodging and weaving through traffic with a bevy of cop cars behind it. I stopped my friend and said, “Look at that. This is the real L.A. experience.”

As we watched, I heard sirens approaching. I turned around and right there in front of us came the truck! And then the cops. Live and in person. Only in Hollywood, as they say (and whoever “they” are, I wish they’d pipe down).

After this I drove her along Pacific Coast Highway because she wanted to see Malibu. This was before the fires destroyed so much of it in January of 2025. I remember pointing out the iconic hangout Moonshadows, which is now completely gone. I showed her a house owned by a billionaire that somehow survived.

Speaking of which, the other day I was contemplating what I’d do with a spare $12.5 billion. A few things came to mind:

• Stock up on Necco Wafers and Lear jets

• Buy a Hyundai Sonata and Uzbekistan

• Purchase the island of Malta and rename it “Skippy.”

Or buy the Los Angeles Lakers, as Bob Iger and Josh Kushner recently did, in the largest sports franchise purchase in history. Iger is the former CEO of Disney. Kushner is the little brother of Jared, advisor to the president. Josh is 41, impossibly handsome, and married to a supermodel. He owns a mansion in Miami Beach, a penthouse in New York City, and “The Wave House” in Malibu (which he picked up in 2024 for $29.5 million). The architect of this iconic residence was a man named Harry Gesner, who was also an avid surfer.

Sometime in the 1950s, Gesner was out on his board, looking at the beach, and got the idea of designing a house as a place for him and his buds to hang out (when they weren’t hanging ten). He envisioned a house in the shape of a wave. Inspired, he pulled out a grease pencil (architects always go surfing with a grease pencil) and sketched a design right on his surfboard.

Malibu has a nice park where Mrs. B and I like to walk around, as it has a wonderful view of our beloved Pacific Ocean (yes, ours…the shoreline belongs by law to the public, so anyone can walk along the beach in front of billionaires’ homes). One day a few years ago, we were there, walking past a play area for kids, and I looked at a fellow and said to my wife, “That guy looks like Mel Gibson.”

Because it was Mel Gibson. He was there with some kids, probably his grands, doing a teeter-totter with one of them. I didn’t want to go all fanboy on him (because Lethal Weapon and Braveheart are two of my favorite movies), so I told Mrs. B to wait just a moment…and I slowly approached. Mel gave me a side-eye, because stars of his caliber have a sixth sense about fans (sometimes crazy) trying to make contact.

When I got close he put on a 100-watt smile and said, “Hey!”

I leaned over and quietly said, “Thank you for Braveheart.” He said, “Thanks, buddy.” I turned and walked away so he could enjoy a bit of peaceful anonymity again.

I am of Scots-Irish descent. That means my heart is in the Highlands, where it dresses in kilts on a windy hill and plays the bagpipes. That’s why I love Braveheart. Heck, it even means I like haggis and I’m not afraid to admit it. Who doesn’t love a little sheep’s offal now and then? You take the heart, liver, and lungs of a sheep, mince it with onions, oatmeal, spices, and suet (the raw fat found around the kidneys and loins), and cook it inside a sheep’s stomach.

Smacking your lips yet?

You can’t get real-deal haggis in the U.S. because back in 1971 the USDA declared lungs to be “an inedible animal by-product.” So you get some imitation haggis that replaces lungs with “other offal products.” But discerning Scots say this compromises both taste and texture.

Please email RFK, Jr. today!

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Social Media Advice From Long Ago

John Wesley was an English preacher and evangelist, and an advocate for the abolition of slavery. In 1745 he gave this advice to his fellow Methodists, who faced vehement opposition at the time. Would that his words held sway in today’s poisonous swirl of online opinionating:

Be true also to your principles, touching opinions, and the externals of religion. Use every ordinance which you believe is of God: but beware of narrowness of spirit towards those who use them not. Conform yourself to those modes of worship which you approve; yet love, as brethren, those who cannot conform. Lay so much stress on opinions, that all your own (if it be possible) may agree with truth and reason; but have a care of anger, dislike, or contempt towards those whose opinions differ from yours. You are daily accused of this: (And indeed, what is it, whereof you are not accused?) But beware of giving any ground for such an accusation. Condemn no man for not thinking as you think. Let every one enjoy the full and free liberty of thinking for himself. Let every man use his own judgment; since every man must give an account of himself to God. Abhor every approach, in any kind or degree, to the spirit of persecution. If you cannot reason or persuade a man into the truth, never attempt to force him into it. If love will not compel him to come in, leave him to God, the Judge of all.