The Adventures of the Bamster and 9 fingered Rahm, #3.

The Snow Queen & The Dragon Lady

haunt his every sleeping and waking moment.

At the regular afternoon meeting, the Bamster and 9 Fingered Rahm fell into a somber mood, things had not been going as well as hoped and the press office was down to feeding the Bamster clips from ever loyal and adoring commentators like Rachel Maddow and Chris (my leg tingles) Matthews. Rahm had yelled at Press Secretary this morning over some very snippy remarks by Jon Stewart on the previous night’s Daily Show. “Find out what got into him, the rat, how come he’s turning on us.” “But Rahm, if the Bamster floats one his off the talking points non sequitur’s, Stewart can’t help himself.” “Yeah, I know it’s his shtik, but I still don’t like him making us look bad. I should have known he’d be trouble ever since that chop about Herself last Fall when he showed the old Miami pentioner looking at Michelle and saying ‘“Vat a touches.”’ She is still pissed about it.”

The Bamster sat forward in his great chair, head in his hands on the Presidential desk, “Rahm, did you hear, the Snow Queen, Sarah Palin herself, she was on Rachel Ray’s show this morning.”

“Don’t worry about it, just two air head broads what can they do?”

“But Rahm, they cooked, they made this Alaskan stuff.”

“Get a grip, man, so Caribou Barbie can make some kind of goyish Lox, big F****ing deal!!” Rahm said in firm voice.

“But the audience applauded like they loved her.” The Bamster was spooked.

“Chill, man, so she can cook . . . she probably can since she has to feed her kids and that big ox of husband of hers. I don’t think many people are going to be eating her favorite Moose Goulash or whatever she makes.” Rahm explained.

“You’re right, I don’t think I’d like to eat a moose. Nobody would like to eat a moose would they?”

“Sure, Canadians might like Moose, but not our voters. It’s not bad, you know, I had some at a great little deli in Montreal one time, smoked moose on rye.”

“But Rahm, she still scares me,” the Bamster looked at him pleading for reassurance. “She is a killer, I’ve seen the pictures. She’s some kind of wild cracker Princess Xena or something.”

“F*** her, shake it off, big guy, be a mensch. Do I got to call the kitchen have them send up Spam Fry Rice or Ahi Poke or some thing?,” Rahm knew that the Hawaiian snacks of his boyhood always perked up the Bamster.

“That would help, it would,” the Bamster raised his head.

“At least Hillary Clinton will not be on Rachel Ray’s show, I don’t think she can boil a f***ing pot of water.” Rahm laughed. Then he realized his mistake. The only person the Bamster hated and feared more Sarah the Snow Queen was his Secretary of State, Hillary Clinton, or as he and Rahm called her, Dragon Lady.

“I have this nightmare, Rahm, it’s horrible. There I am trying to run for reelection and the Republicans and the back stabbing Blue Dog Democrats run a special fusion ticket of Hillary for President and Sarah for VP. I can see them together in a VFW Hall in some awful little town in Pennsylvania drinking’ beer and doing shots with the peasants, talking about guns and all that other blue collar white folks stuff.” The Bamster was beginning to sweat as he recounted his recurring frightful vision.

“Cool it, can’t happen, we got Hillary right where we f***ing want her. She can’t go nowhere. I got my guys keeping my eye on her and her little shlep Blumenthal. She can’t make a bleeping move without us knowing first.” Rahm assured his heroic leader.

“Are you sure?” Bamster pleaded.

“F***ing absolutely certain, them mother f***ing mothers can’t lay a glove on us!” Rahm almost shouted. “We're holding our friends close and our enemies even closer,” Rahm quote the Godfather epic, it always bucked up the Bamster’s spirit.

At this point Press Secretary Gibbs burst in, “Sorry, but you guys got to see this, it’s unbelievable.” On the huge plasma TV we see the tarmac at Anchorage International Airport and through a light snow fall we see Secretary of State Hillary Clinton in a fur coat and hat on a stop over on her return flight from Moscow. Next to her in a bright red parka is a smiling Sarah Palin handing her a slab of smoked salmon in bright foil and red ribbons. Hillary beams, “Why thank you, Sarah, this is so sweet and you know how I love smoked Alaskan salmon.” She gave a little peck on the cheek to Sarah and Todd.

Sarah smiles back, “You bet’cha, I made it my self and my husband Todd, he caught it right here in Alaska.”

“Thank you so much, I really appreciate it.” Hillary purred.

“I’m so glad we had a chance to get together Madam Secretary, you know how I’ve always admired you, one American woman to another.”

As the camera pulled back, a radiant Hillary climbed back up the steps into her sky blue and white Air Force plane, Sarah and Todd waved and Hillary clutched the smoked salmon to her breast and smiled warmly.

Ahhhhhhhhh!!!!

Gibbs and Rahm patted the stricken Bamster on his back and got him to take a drink of water.

Rahm shouted, “The bitches.”

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The Las Vegas Mob Mo.

Buried deep in the fine print of the current Economic Recovery act are a cruelly wonderful collection of absolutely necessary life enrichment projects that will goose the economy back to life and enrich the cultural and recreational life of hundreds of cities and communities. There are bike and walking paths on old railway right of way’s, there are beaches where citizens can take their dogs and allow them to run free, there are restored landmark homes and commercial buildings, railroad stations restored to gaudy three color Victorian glory, 19th century churches converted into hipster friendly restaurants, wine bars and hang outs.

Of all the life enriching projects one stands out. The City of Las Vegas Nevada proposes a national museum of organized crime. This project jumps off the page at you, it’s not just another city beautification dream. This museum grabs you by the lapels and says in soft but ominous voice, “You got a problem with that?”

Please join me in my time travel speedster and let me give you the highlights from a long review of the newly complete National Museum of Organized Crime, or as it is called by everyone in Las Vegas, MOB MO.

You approach the domed three story monument on a long fountain lined arcade. The large building is in tasteful classic forms inspired by the 16th century Italian architect and author Antonio Paladio’s Venetian country villas. Three balanced wings extending from the central rotunda but the finish and feel is very elegant Ocean Liner Arte Deco, reflecting the 1930's golden age of organized crime.

On entering the building you proceed to the soaring rotunda. In niches in the four piers that support the dome are bronze busts of Alfonse “Scarface” Capone, Meyer Lansky, Giuseppe “Joe Bananas” Bonanno and Benjamin "Bugsy" Siegel. A pair of marble staircase fall gracefully into the rotunda. Each of the wings is dedicated to one branch of organized crime. To the right is the Cosa Nostra wing honoring the titans of Italoamerican crime, to the left is a wing dedicated to the great Jewish criminals while passing through the rotunda is the Gangsters All wing honoring a wide variety of historic American felons, thieves, murders and criminal giants. In the basement is the Garage, which has a collection of thirty important automobiles. Additionally, there are a bookstore on one side of the entrance vestibule and On the other side, a delightful New York style trattoria, “Mama Gambino’s.” The New York Chopped Salad and the hand made veal and spinach ravioli are amazing as are the authentic scungilli fritters. (Italian for meat of the spiral shellfish Conch. Pronounced: Skun'GEE'lee.)

In the cosa nostra wing are some fascinating displays and life size portraits of leading mobsters. In the center of the grand gallery is the barber chair where Albert Anastasia got whacked. At the far end of gallery is a fresco of Joey’s Clam House the night Crazy Joe Gallo was machined gunned. On the second floor on the right side of the gallery is a large hands on display of Bootlegging and Speakeasies. On the right side is a definitive display of weapons of the Mafia, s superb collection of pistols, sub machine guns, sawed off shotguns, knives of every sort including beautifully made Parthenopian (The region around Naples, Italy) stellettos, switchblades, and "butterfly knives. Also are other things like car bombs, garote's and special piano wire implements and last but not least baseball bats and other clubs. On the third floor is a dazzling 1930’s night club based on the elegant main dinning room of the French Line flagship, Le Normandie. The rest of the floor is dedicated to fashion displays of famous mistress, or as they were called at the time, “Gun Molls.” Strippers and whores, moonlighting librarians, society girls out for trills and of course leading Strippers and torch singers.

Across the rotunda in the wing of Jewish Gangsters is a large display honoring Las Vegas promoter, Benjamin “Bugsy” Siegel. This display shows the great compelling vision of the New York born and bred mobster. On the other side of the hall is a large display dedicated to the long fruitful career of Meyer Lansky (born Majer Suchowliski in Poland), the J. P. Morgan of crime. It includes his 1960 Plymouth sedan and a reproduction of the modest home he lived in Miami in his sunset years. At the far end of wing is a café, actually a reproduction of small deli in the Bronx where all the favorite delicatessen comfort food is available, soups, sandwiches, desserts and other Gotham City favorites. Additionally, the Jewish wing includes a display noting that the last big time Capo of New York crime, John “The Teflon Don” Gotti was in fact half Jewish by virtue of his mother who was the daughter of a minor Jewish gangster.

In the central wing, "A Diversity of Gangsters Hall" are two displays: On the right hand side, Irish gangsters are remembered. The Hell’s Kitchen gangs, the Five Points gang and the O’Bannions of Chicago and their cohort "Machine Gun" Kelly. Included is a tableau of Valentine Day’s Massacre where Capone’s guys settle score once and for all with the Northside O’Bannions. Across the way, on the left hand side, the outlaws of the old west are honored: The James Brothers, the Dalton Gang, John Wesley Harden, Butch Casady and the Sundance Kid, additionally their enemies are also noted: Judge Roy Bean, Judge Parker, the Texas Rangers and the Earp Brothers.

Upstairs there are displays on other ethnic gangs: the Chinese Triads, the Japanese Yukusa, the Filipino “White Flower" Gang, Chicano gangsters, the African American Crips and the Bloods, American Indian and French Canadians bootleggers and smugglers, red neck moonshiners from the South and river pirates from the great Mississippi.

On the top floor are various financial crooks: Jim Fisk, Jay Gould, Mr. Ponzi and Mr. Madoff his greatest successor. Then there is a fascinating display of the great bookies and gamblers, centering on Arnie Arnstein and how he fixed the 1919 World Series and led to the conviction of seven players on the Chicago White Sox.

The final display is in honor of little known felons, the Midwest’s unique and entprising criminal figures, the German American and Scandinavian American Margarine runners. These bold Lutheran mobsters in their hot Studebakers and Hudson Hornets would smuggle colored margarine from Des Moines and Chicago into Wisconsin and Minnesota where state laws made it a felony to possess or traffic in margarine. The Supreme Court threw out the anti margarine laws in the early 1960's.

All in all, the tasteful museum provides a look at a colorful if lethal slice of American life.

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