FIGHTING FIRE WITH FIRE

During that OJ extravaganza I got involved in the effort to recall the nutty judge who awarded the custody of the children to the man who murdered their mother. (Her excuse: She was in a hurry because she was going on vacation!)

At one meeting of our group, on the campus of Cal State Fullerton, I mentioned that a police lieutenant had been helpful in our petition efforts.

It turned out some journalism students had been in the audience. For the next week I got calls at home every night from female journalism students asking for the identity of that officer. Someone had sigged them on to me in order to get that officer in some kind of trouble. What trouble, I don’t know.

After about a week of this, I got a call from a black man. At least I deduced he was black from his very strong accent. He said he was a former judge who was now teaching journalism at the university. He had assigned the class the project of uncovering the identity of that officer. I might as well tell because they would keep after me until I did.

I asked him, as a former judge, what he thought of the OJ case. “OJ be innocent!” he responded. No, that’s not exactly what he said, but it’s my memory and that’s the way I prefer to remember it. So there.

After the call my bullshit detector was rumbling and rumbling. Let’s see. A black guy. A former judge. Now teaching journalism. OJ be innocent. A bunch of female students. This was easy.

The next night a girl (of course) called and pumped again for the name of the officer. Instead, I asked her if there was any truth that their instructor had been making inappropriate advances to some of the girls in the class. I said I’d heard that was going on and I was going to make inquiries to find out if it was true.

I never got another call.

Never bullshit a bullshitter.



We didn’t get enough signatures for the recall but the judge was severely rebuked by a superior court on the appeal.