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The Fast Life of Johnny Exeter Jr.

26 Sep

September 26, 2010

Johnny Exeter Jr. lived fast and died young. He was the apple of his father’s eye, but the apple was rotten.

My name is Russell. Hollywood they call me. Hollywood Russell. I hear things. And this is a story of wrecked cars, wrecked marriages, and wrecked lives.

From a young age, it was clear that Johnny Exeter Jr. was trouble. By age 13 Sr. had had enough. More than enough. It was off to the military academy for the kid. It was 1915 and Sr. was angling to get the kid a commission. But like a bad penny, the kid was back- and so were his hell-raising ways.

Sr. pulled some strings and got the kid into Stanford when he was old enough, but they cut the strings some enough and tossed Jr. out. Allegations of booze and fast women were only the printable rumors.

Records show that Sr. shelled out a lot of dough covering the kids bad habits. The small checks were simple- $274 to pay for a wrecked car. The big ones not so simple- $25,000 to send pregnant girlfriend Flossie Windsor to France for a couple of years.

By 1926 Jr. was engaged and it was Daddy buying the ring. And the house, and the honeymoon. In Sr.’s mind, little Johnny Jr. could do no wrong, and his marriage to Helen Audubon was just the thing. Never mind the little matter of the Windsor woman and her little Exeter Junior Jr. cooling her heels in France.

 By 1928 Johnny Exeter Jr. had a house in New Haven Estates, a wife, and a blackmailer.

A tiger can’t change his spots, and Jr. was a tiger when it came to women. This is where Tony Sponetti entered the picture.

Sponetti was a cheap hood I’d rolled up a few years before for some petty larceny. Now he was back and the skel had an eye on the Exeter cash. On a trip to Atlantic City while his wife was home, Sponetti noticed that Exeter Jr. was making time with Michelle Lander, a dancer in a small speakeasy off the Boardwalk.

Michelle Lander was a sexy platinum blonde with an eye for money and a body to get it. Exeter was no easy mark- he was the easiest. He hooked himself. Soon Sponetti was getting $500 a week, from daddy Sr.’s account, to keep his trap shut. It was sweet.

Sr. had spared no expense when it came to his son. First the wedding expenses, then the Sponetti dough, then the quickie Reno divorce.

By 1929 Helen Audubon, a woman who looked the other way, and often, finally had enough and Jr. dropped her without even a thank you. That put Sponetti on ice, especially when Jr. did the legal ring-a-ding and remarried. But not to Michelle Lander. That honey pot had been left in Atlantic City to attract the local bees.

From here the Exeter Jr. story falls into the usual mess a man with limited morals and unlimited cash makes for himself. Married and divorced three more times by 1935, in debt and bailed out a dozen more, Exeter Jr. was finally making a go of a small gin mill when Sponetti came back.

Sponetti had stewed since he lost the cash from the Lander deal, and now he had a way of making some more. Johnny Jr. was into him for a ton of dough from the dog races and Sponetti was calling in his marker.

 But daddy wasn’t going to save him this time. It was 1936 and the balance in the bank account was low enough to notice and Sr. told little Johnny that enough was enough.

 Gathering his courage and acting like a man for the first time in his life, he stood up to Tony Sponetti.

 And Sponetti shot him dead.

No moral here, no lesson to be learned. Just another story I picked up in the hills of Hollywood.

I’m Hollywood Russell and that was the singular tale of Johnny Exeter Jr.

Scrappers Mail: Letters from people who love Scrappers and hate me.

23 Sep

September 23, 2010

I get mail all the time from people who disagree with me about Scrappers, and if you look in the comments section you can see that they are usually well thought out and in the end I even tend to agree with most of what they have to say. So for the record: 

  • Yes, I do think the show is entertaining.
  • I do agree that all the scrappers are hardworking, even Darren, in his own slug-like way.
  • Noots, Sal, and the rest, are not bad people. (Though I confess, I get a laugh out of calling him “Noots.” What is his real last name? Nootsbaum?)
  • I take the show a bit differently than others because it is shot in my neighborhood.

Where we disagree is that I think that the producers at Spike TV do their best to make them look like wannabe mafia members, with stereotypical music and descriptions. I think the producers at Spike TV generally only show jobs where the scrappers look silly or make no money. How many times have we seen Dino and Mimmo lose money after a whole day of work? I think the producers at Spike TV intentionally create situations that have no basis in reality. Remember the episode where Dino and Mimmo picked up the old lady and took her to the hospital? That van is in no way safe for an old woman and, if during the course of filming a television show for Spike TV, she got injured, Dino, Mimmo, and the producers at Spike TV would be on the hook for a big lawsuit. In reality that would never be allowed. And at what point on screen did you see the woman sign a release for her image to be used on television? I think the producers at Spike TV do their best to make these guys look stupid (two episodes (!) ended with someone complaining about how much his genitals hurt) and in the process make the whole area look bad.

Or do you think that the video of Darren singing was made to get him a shot on American Idol? That was on the official Spike TV website! Of course they are making fun of him!

So I wasn’t too surprised when I received this unusually cogent and insightful email from a Mr. John G., whose last name I will only identify by an initial:

First of all I don’t think these guys look like jerks at all in fact to me they look like guys with their own reality show and a great one at that, so let me guess you will watch everyone of the episodes and hate on all of them and that is because you are just another hater.

Thanks John. Let me take this run-on sentence point by point.

I don’t think these guys look like jerks at all in fact to me they look like guys with their own reality show

If they don’t look like jerks to you, that’s fine. The ratings are good so obviously there are many people who agree with you. As for your cogent rebuttal that “they look like guys with their own reality show,” well, I take off my hat to you sir. I have no reply. You really got me there.

let me guess you will watch everyone of the episodes and hate on all of them

As you frequently read my blog, you know that I commented, either in general or specifically, on about 90% of the episodes. Did I “hate on” all of them? I think that I pointed out what I thought were the worst parts of each episode. You never saw me take a cheap shot at the scrapper’s girlfriends or call anyone a “hater,” for example, or point out that if a paragraph begins with “first of all” there should also be a “secondly.”

because you are just another hater.

No, it is because Scrappers blogs bring traffic to my website.

While I was still recovering my dignity from Mr. G. forcing me to concede that “ they look like guys with their own reality show,” Mr. G. wrote in again with another attack worthy of H. L. Mencken:

where is your show you clown your blog sucks

Again, Mr, G., you’ve bested me. You force me to concede that, sadly, I have no show.

At any rate, Scrappers is done for the season, and it ended on a high note. Darren got married (in a church I pass almost everyday), Noots got his scrap yard in Coney Island, Sal is still working hard.

So Mr. G., relax, put down your remote and attend some English classes, because this will be my last Scrappers blog.

Until next season.

Probably.