Hearne: We Interrupt This Pandemic to Bring You….

Sometimes a guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do…

In my case, the death of life as we knew it in Kansas City – combined with the daily drip of coronavirus news, the death of sports, entertainment and other most everyday distractions – left me flat.

Kinda like you maybe.

Naturally, the ongoing journalistic erosion at the Kansas City Star continued to provide plenty of angst, but it just didn’t seem to matter much.  So I took a bit of time off to more fully engage in boring, lame behavior.

Sure, it was kinda cool when Westport wild man Bill Nigro contracted the Big C, then managed to survive despite his age and adult diabetes. He spent like three days on the potty – eyeball-to-eyeball with the Grim Reaper – and yet lived to tell the story.

Of course the Star was predictably and tediously biased – as is the case with most mainstream media these days – but how much lame handwringing and boring nitpicking did you guys need from me, give the city and country’s sad state of affairs.

So I did what Paul Wilson would probably call AWOL and went down periscope.

Ah, but that was then.

 And after a month long hiatus, there are tons of stories to catch up on

So on with the show, starting with the Star’s embarrassing scam to try and panhandle $200 grand – disguised as a tax write off – from its few remaining readers. That in the hope of laying off a few less underpaid writers.

Fat chance of of that happening, because the handwriting’s on the wall with parent McClatchy in bankruptcy. And what’s likely to happen next is for it sell off its meager remaining assets to some corporate raider that picks up the few, remaining pieces, before resuming a possibly even more dramatic blood bath.

So yeah, no need to stop the presses, but I’m back.

And for heaven’s sake,  think about poor Jack! 

No movies, exhibitors on what may be death row and a travel and cruise business to die for…literally!

On with the show…