News » Etc.

Real stories of the Montana Highway Patrol, and what to do with Jar-Jar



When the history books of the future are written, it may be that the first major battle over individual liberty in the 21st century won’t be fought over invasion of privacy but over the erosion of identity. In an era when Montana’s hunters and fishermen are getting their rods out of joint because of a new law requiring them to give their social security numbers for licenses, it seems our personal identities are becoming more liquid than fixed assets. Nothing is as it appears anymore. The state auditor performs no audits, the comptroller doesn’t “comptrol” anything and krabmeat salad contains no crab meat. Let’s not even mention the fake Frankie Goes to Hollywood.

Now, it appears even Montana’s state troopers have fallen victim to the fuzzy name game. According to a full-page ad in the spring issue of Montana Highway Patrolman, various groups have been calling on businesses throughout Montana claiming to represent The Association of Montana Highway Patrolmen and accepting cash donations in their name. But, as it turns out, many of these groups aren’t affiliated with the troopers at all. Apparently, the problem has gotten bad enough that the cops have set up a toll-free “verification line” for would-be contributors to call if they have doubts about cops who are calling for a cash donation. The ad lists at least 21 different organizations, including The Highway Patrol Journal, Highway Trooper Magazine and The NARC Officer. So remember, next time you’re pulled over they ask to see your driver’s license, you do the same. There’s only one Montana Highway Patrol. Accept no substitutes.

Mee-sa no like sound of this.
If you could meet any movie star and do anything you wanted to them, who and what would it be? Bruce Willis? Smack that smirk off his face. Sandra Bullock? Long wet kiss. Humphrey Bogart? Swap fashion tips. Ava Gardner? Stand in rapt awe. Anthony Michael Hall? Tell him not to forget to put the salad dressing on the side this time. But how about if you got a chance to stand toe-to-toe with a character, and not just any creation to come out of the Hollywood crap factory, but the most detestable figure of them all? Well, you just missed your chance.

For three weeks, Crystal Video on Higgins Avenue hosted an ongoing meet-and-greet with a full-blown, life-size Jar Jar Binks. That’s right, America’s most hated gay-Jamaican-reptile-minstrel, who managed to stink up what was already quite possibly the worst movie of 1999, Star Wars: The Phantom Menace.

According to Crystal manager Jace Laakso, the son of a regular customer won the novelty Jar Jar in a drawing at a local Albertson’s last year, but as the youth’s Phantom fever cooled, the family decided to put it up for bid. First, they went to e-Bay, where a buff in Florida offered $500 for the monster, but the cost of shipping it queered the deal. Thus, the Crystal display, which culminated last week in a closing bid made by an unnamed fan from Hamilton. Final price? $180. If you ask us, they could’ve made more money if they just charged folks a dollar a punch.

Add a comment