Just When You Think You're Out, Those Dancing (Randolph County) Stars Pull You Back In

Inspired by my stunningly beautiful, incredibly brave, totally-fricking amazing friend, Charlene, I thought I was out in May.  But then former North "Senator", Johnny Reid Edwards, was indicted.  So I came out to play.  And then I went back on break.

But this morning, my well-named pal, Buzz Armfield-of-the-Armfields (not to be confused with Ed-Cone-of-those-Cone-Health-Cones) called at an ungodly hour to tell me that the front page of the N&R's "Life" section featured a full-page article on Randolph County's "Dancing With The Stars".  And the article boasted a 3/4 page picture of my ex-attorney, Steve Schmidly.

Dancing.

Regular Housecalls readers know that liquor-loving "Schmid" was the Asheboro-based-legal-eagle who "represented me" in my legal dance with Randolph Hospital.  He's the oh-so-ethical practitioner of the law who was (A) too stupid, or (B) too lazy/negligent, or (C) just too concerned about keeping his status as a "right person" in Asheboro to BUST Randolph Hospital executives, Bob Morrison and Steven Eblin, on their PERJURY (in the discovery phase of Randolph Hospital's own bogus SLAPP counter-suit) . . . and get his client (that would be moi') a settlement that more accurately reflected her real/actual damages (based on the information contained in tax returns/public records that the boys swore under Oath were "confidential" and withheld).  During negotiations, Schmidly could then communicate back the bold-faced LIE that the practice was all-but-bankrupt - and could not afford pay out the kind of money I was rightfully owed due to their MALICE and malfeasance (funny how being "nearly bankrupt" did not seem to affect the doctors' and administrators' salaries).  It wasn't his only lie.  He also told me that punitive damages were not taxable - a ruse to get me to accept the settlement.

Of course, Schmidly's professional lapse could have been (D) ALL of the above.

The carpet-bagging non-profiteers running Randolph Hospital took my practice - the one I was recuited HOME with Federal dollars to build and KEEP in Asheboro - and simply handed it over to other doctors and gave them raises . . . while they shoved me in a windowless box and battered me with creative interpretations of contract law.

(Lest the reader think I am being too hard on my former attorney, I trusted Schmid.  Totally and completely.  With everything.  With my future.  For literally years, I lived under a cloud of fear - particularly after the SLAPP-suit was filed, and he was the one person with whom I could discuss the situation and players freely.  And/so, the betrayal, when I realized it, cut to the core.)

Later on, when Dr. Mary figured out just how thoroughly she'd been hosed, Herr Schmid could not be bothered with taking his fellow lawyers to task for suborning perjury.  Randolph Hospital wanted to pigeon-hole me back into civil court - where their slick shysters could argue about the meaning and virtues of "agressive representation".

But perjury is a felony.  Bob Morrison and Steve  Eblin are the executives of a "non-profit", and they negotiated a deal on the lies.  That's fraud.  And it's the purview of CRIMINAL court.  Except in Garland Yates' jurisdiction.  Or the IRS's (God help us when Obamacare really kicks in).

I ain't "right people", you see.

Dr. Mary is torqued and blogging because, as someone who bought-all-the-lines on public service, she never got the kind of fair play from our government and our legal system that Annette Jordan says that the Courier Tribune cares so much about.

Of course the Roch Smith, Jrs. (GSO We101) and Lex Alexanders (former medical "reporter" at the N&R) and Edward Cones (of those Cones) in this blogopshere would rather you go along with Schmidly's standard wink-&-nod that, after thirteen years of this bullshit - pleading her case to every oversight agency under the sun (and several politicians who are now convicted felons - or who deserve to be), Dr. Mary's heart does not have very good reason to be hardened . . . or her tongue to be razor-sharp.  Her story-of-hometown woe is "irrelevant" to the issues of the day.  Her soul is cold and angry and bitter for no particular reason . . . and she needs "professional help" . . . never mind the help she didn't get from those "professionals" in law and journalism who turned her into medical road-kill.

"Public servants" repeatedly lying in and out of Court in order to get their way does not matter TO ANYONE.  And I don't get it.  I just don't get it.  If John Edwards can do the perp walk, what . . . or who . . . exactly makes Morrison and Eblin so Teflon-coated?  It's not like the U.S. Attorney or N.C. Attorny General would have to "broadly interpret" anything.  The lies are recorded and sworn in black and white. 

What the HELL does it take to get justice in North Carolina when "right people" are involved?

This morning, Buzzy reported that he could not access the story on the N&R's website . . . wryly commenting, "probably because John Robinson doesn't want you to rip the story to shreds in the comment section".

That's why I have a blog.

(I will concede that God is merciful in that at least it wasn't a photo of Bob Morrison - also a dancing Randolph County "celebrity".  Schmid cutting the rug under what appears to be a rug was bad enough in terms of keeping breakfast, lunch and dinner down.)

I did a little more digging later this morning, and discovered that I could actually access and see the pictures on the N&R's temporarily-free "e-edition".

And what I saw burned my eyes.  And a post was born.

I told the Buzzman to save the hard copy because no one I know in Asheboro takes the N&R any more.  It probably has something to to with the way those much-more-enlightened-big-city-reporters cover the news down here in the redneck-soaked sticks (or, as some of Greensboro's more tongue-in-cheek/high-minded/sneering-&-spitting citizens now refer to Randolph County, "South of our Border").  Buzz says he only takes the N&R because he can get it for somewhere around 20 cents a day and he thinks the carrier is a fine fellow who needs to keep his job.

The evening of dancing raised $97,000 (after expenses) for Randolph Community College . . . an institution still on academic probation.

The leaders of Randolph County really, really care about their young people getting a good higher education.  Because they WANT "young professionals" to kick around.  They GET OFF on it.  We're "a dime-a-dozen".)

Really, what can I really say that I haven't already?  All the "right people" (most of whom were instrumental in running the college . . . and the bank . . . and little ole me . . . not-to-mention a good portion of the rest of the town . . . into the ground) gathering together to celebrate themselves . . . and reward mediocrity . . . seems to be an on-going theme in Asheboro.

It never ends.  And the leaders of this town cannot figure out why it's "dying".

Here's the thing:  I can't quite figure out the N&R's angle on this.  They don't care about what happens down in Asheboro - they haven't for years (in fact, it's been one of JR's excuses with my story) - they rarely acknowledge it exists (well, except when our hometown bank is eating NASDAQ's dirt).

Is the "creative class" of Greensboro poking fun at Randolph County?  Is it a hoot for a hot summer day?

Is the N&R sicking it to the financially-struggling Courier Tribune . . . ala, "Look at us stomp all over your turf"?

Is the hard-copy media attention some kind of "reward" for Schmidly . . . because he and his not-really-a-homegirl daughter finally brought alcohol to Asheboro?

Or maybe it's reputation-rehab because not everyone in Asheboro holds Sir Schmidly in high regard for drving the last nail in the coffin of small town values.  So let's take the act up to Greensboro (CNN likes fiction), because the ordinary folk of Asheboro aren't buying it anymore - and are just lining their litter pans with this stuff.

(And they're not buying it because booze on every corner did not bring Asheboro  economic salvation, you see.  "Mayberry" sold its little soul just so the local convenience & grocery stores - and Walmart - could boost their profits.  Of course, it's probably just as well.  You have to have something to wash down the drug-runner's goods with.)

Or maybe, just maybe, this just a little bit more personal . . . i.e. John Robinson & company getting a high-school-level jab in on me . . . for all of my jabbing of them?

I mean, doing the article is one thing . . . there are always folks out who thrive on these incestuously-incestuous civic games in life.

It sells a few papers, but usually, they join Rotary and the rest of us can take a pass and stay out of their way.

But there were other right-people-dancing that night who could have been photographed and featured . . . apart from the oily lawyer who aided and abetted in the hometown screw of the doctor-in-public service . . .

. . . the local story that John Robinson & company, in this era of public corruption-exposed and healthcare-reform, has thus far REFUSED to tell . . . because it might embarrass those Cones.

I've probably given this too much thought already.

Did I mention that, once upon a time, Schmid was a big fan of John Edwards?  Peas in a pod, IMHO.  Alas, there were lots of peas in these parts.

The upside is that I'm learning how to shoot firearms, and can laminate Buzz's newspaper remnant to use for target practice the next time the YaYa's take me to the gun club.  It'll be better than sticking pins into the voodoo-doll I named Steve (for Eblin, not Schmidly).  And short of suing some government agencies for letting me swing (I am working on it), shooting newsprint of the imaginary Travolta may be the only satisfaction I ever get.  A two-for-one when you think about it.

Back on summer break.