By Mark D. Crantz
Laguna Beach. Another perfect day in Paradise, but there’s drug smuggling. Oh no! Recently, 1,200 lbs. of marijuana was seized in Crystal Cove by the authorities. Concerned with the sanctity of the chain of evidence, federal agents opted to burn the marijuana and triumphantly stand to the south or down wind for the picture taking ceremony. Fortunately, the photographer, also down wind, didn’t get the agent heads in the group photo shoot, which will enable federal authorities to continue using these same brave agents undercover again, once their collective buzz wears off. In addition, residents of Emerald Bay did not care anymore about putting a traffic light on Coast Highway, but agreed that glow sticks and Bics will work just fine.
Maybe I’m just on edge because it seems that Oliver Stone’s “Savages” has come to life for real right here in Laguna Beach. (Pass me more Prozac, please!) I’m not quite ready to face the Mexican drug cartel for several reasons. First, I’m not in a love triangle yet which is a necessary condition according to Oliver Stone’s production. I’m no expert, but love triangles can’t be rushed. They take time to develop, particularly in my case, where my past relationship experiences invariably end up in a Bermuda triangle, a place where love can never be triangulated again according to anyone who knows me. “Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy, but here’s my number, so call me, maybe?” And the second reason I need more time before facing the Mexican drug cartel is because I can’t face Selma Hayek until I loose at least 10 pounds to avoid the scorn of a woman who only has time for billionaire relationships to which I fall tragically short. A slimmed down version of me is my only shot. “Selma, call me maybe?”
First impressions are important before waging smuggler battles. Johnny Depp’s portrayal of Captain Jack in “Pirates of the Caribbean” was based on Keith Richards and was a performance extraordinaire. To aspire to these high standards, I’ve decided to base my performance on Yogi Bear. This will be a bit of a stretch because I’m more the height of Boo-Boo, but many leading men have stood on milk cartons to assure the cinematic fantasy. Just ask Nicole Kidman or Katie Holmes, who both soured on the same short man. “Got milk carton, Tom?”
At first glance, Yogi Bear may not appear to be the animated role model that I should hope to emanate. However, who can you think of that knows more about state parks and the modus operandi of park rangers? If drug smuggling continues to come ashore in state parks due to easy docking, convenient restrooms, and handicap ramping for fast off-shore loading, then only Yogi Bear will know how to avoid the park rangers and get away with all those drug laden picnic baskets. “Hey Boo-Boo, grab the picnic basket and let’s scram or it will be boo-boo at the LA Zoo, for you and me, too!” To which Boo Boo whines back, “I can’t Yogi, Selma has invited me over to her place for a picnic lunch.”
“Ooooh?” replies Yogi, ‘don’t forget the milk carton. It’s over at Tom’s place.”
Mark is a transplant to Laguna from Chicago. He occasionally writes the guest column “Pet Peeves.” His recently deceased Border Collie, Pokey, is his muse and ghostwriter.
