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Tea’s Weird Week: You are Geraldo Rivera, high on ecstasy, looking at a UFO in the Bahamas
You close your eyes. You open them– it is nighttime in the Bahamas. You’re not sure of the date. When you look in the rearview mirror, you confirm what you suspected all along: that you are, in fact, TV personality Geraldo Rivera. You touch your moustache and let out an exclamation, but it comes out sounding like an interdimensional horror choir– the multitude of voices all off key, in different octaves: “hO{Y sHiiii!!!iiit, I-I-I-I’M yOuuuuR hOwwsT,,,,,,gERAww{-do rIVeeeeRa.”
Yes, everyone knows you. The guy who said he was going to bust into Al Capone’s vault to uncover his incredible treasures (1986), only to find some dusty beer bottles, aka the Most Disappointing Moment on Television and the Beginning of the Age of Disenchantment. The guy who got his thumb bit by a KKK dude in Janesville (1992). The guy who started a riot on his show (1988) when he invited white supremacists, anti-racist skinheads, black and Jewish activists to share the stage. Gee, what could go wrong there? In the brawl that followed, you got your nose broken with a chair, but the ratings! The ratings! That’s how you did it in those days. Let’s see Sally Jessy start a race riot. Let’s see old man Donahue take on GG Allin (1992)! Not likely– if you want it done right, you need the man with the stash, the man with the plan, yours truly, Geraldo Rivera.
It wasn’t always that way, of course. There was time before all the sensationalistic crud. You put both hands on the wheel, your shoulders right back and smile as the palm trees whiz by and remember what should be the highlight of your career, the stuff you should be remembered for (but won’t). A flashback to 1972– you’re a young man, a reporter for Eyewitness News, and you bravely sneak into Willowbrook State School to uncover and break the story of the atrocities happening at this mental health facility. You win the fucking Peabody. John Lennon watched and was moved and you and him set up a benefit concert for the victims in Madison Square Garden. Geraldo Rivera, National Hero!
You decide to ride the crest of that wave and not the years of being a FOX flunkey that followed, the time you blamed a black kid’s murder on his hoodie, or accidentally gave away troop locations and got kicked out of Iraq. You lean over and open the glove box, unwrapping a plastic sandwich baggie. Inside are a few chalky white tablets. You pop one in your mouth, roll it on your tongue, then swallow, wiping your moustache, eyes on the road here in the beautiful Bahamas. Some time later– it’s hard to keep track, you feel your muscles melt in warmth, a sense of euphoria washing over you. I am the Walrus, I am the Geraldo Fucking Rivera, goo goo g’joob. You look up at the starry sky and then your head fills with a brilliant light when you realize your next big scoop– you need to travel to another planet and get punched in the face by an extraterrestrial. The ratings!
Just as you have this thought, you see something incredible in the tropical air. It’s something important– almost as important as seeing the ratings after your Murder: Live on Death Row special. It’s otherworldly. A glowing craft in the sky above you, over the island.
It looks like a great big North star, you think. It’s brighter than the North star is, and it’s right on the horizon there. You try to avoid it by steering around it, but it keeps following you.
You are transfixed, but you are suddenly sucked forward in time. It is 2022 and you’re trying to tell the story on the FOX show The Five, but your colleague Emily Compagno is chastising you for driving while high on ecstasy. Where’s your Peabody, Compagno? When was the last time a racist hit you across the face with a chair? When was the last time you took molly and came face-to-face with the very fabric of the Mysteries of the Universe? You are not Geraldo Rivera. But I am.
Source: “FOX News’ Geraldo Rivera claims he saw UFO while ‘stoned on ecstasy,'” nypost.com, May 18, 2022.
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My latest books are:
Brady Street Pharmacy: Stories and Sketches (2021, Vegetarian Alcoholic Press)
American Madness: The Story of the Phantom Patriot and How Conspiracy Theories Hijacked American Consciousness (2020, Feral House)
Tea’s Weird Week: Chasing the Ghost(s) of Al Capone and a Rant About Geraldo
Tune in every Friday to read about whatever weird stuff Tea is getting himself into.
Well, I’m on my way to visit Chicago twice in the next few days where I’ll be profiling legendary ghost experts Ursula Bielski (Chicago Hauntings) and Dale Kaczmarek (Ghost Research Society) for a magazine piece. Both are interesting people who have been in this ghost biz for a long time. The last time I saw them might have been at a panel I lead on Chicago Ghostlore at Wizard World Chicago a couple years ago, glad to be visiting Chicago and seeing them again.
I got an appropriate Chicago-themed book to read on the train by master level biographer Deirdre Bair titled Al Capone: His Life, Legacy, and Legend, research for an upcoming appearance I’ll be making in September at the Old Baraboo Inn.
I wrote an article for Cult of Weird titled “Chasing the Ghost of Al Capone” in 2016 that documented 5 places the ghost of the famous gangster is said to haunt. After reading it recently, my friends at the Old Baraboo Inn have asked me to join them in the World’s Largest Ghost Hunt there on September 28, as they’ve apparently heard whispers from Scarface himself.
I’m developing a presentation called “Legends of Al Capone.” It’ll premiere at Old Baraboo Inn and then entered into a roster of presentations called “Tea Talks” that I’m developing that will be available for library appearances, conferences, etc. See the Tea Talks page I’m developing here: https://teakrulos.com/teatalks
Here’s the event page for Old Baraboo Inn’s World’s Largest Ghost Hunt: https://www.facebook.com/events/379959039385127/
Unrelated to ghosts but much related to Al Capone, I’ve slowly been collecting some short stories about my life for an untitled book project. I don’t know when or where or how it might be published, but for now I’m just slowing adding to a Word doc whenever I have a memory I want to get down. I’m glad to share with you this short story I wrote about my overwhelming disappointment in Geraldo Rivera.
Al Capone’s Vaults
I can pinpoint my disenchantment date exactly. April 21, 1986, primetime, where you have found me, 9 years-old, excitedly sitting in front of a small but heavy television set in the living room, eating dinner at a TV table. This was a rarity—my parents insisted that dinner be at the dinner table except for Saturday nights, when we cooked frozen pizzas and watched movies in the living room. I was not allowed to watch more modern movies, so what we watched were a lot of old horror and sci fi movies—Dracula and Godzilla movies and old comedies starring the Marx Brothers and Abbot and Costello.
This was a special occasion, though, as my parents recognized my extreme excitement to see a two-hour Geraldo Rivera television special, THE MYSTERY OF AL CAPONE’S VAULTS. Wikipedia says about 30 million other people were also watching that night. I sat there eating maybe frozen pizza or fish sticks and French fries, with milk or orange soda.
Oh boy! Al fragging Capone, I knew who that was! [Breaking into a cartoon gangster impression] Yeah, see, I bet he had a lot of treasure in those secret vaults, see! I bet he had literal treasure chests filled with gold, see! Dead bodies—tommy guns—a stash of Cuban cigars—pictures of naked women! Who knows?! But we’ll find out soon as a construction crew behind Geraldo slowly worked to tantalizingly chisel through the wall to [TV announcer] AL CAPONE’S VAULTS!
I also knew who Geraldo was. My grandpa had angrily waved his hand in dismissal and said “ahhh, he’s just a ham,” which does actually sum up his career nicely.
Geraldo yakked on about Capone and his crime career and how you never know what’s just on the other side of this wall and wow maybe it’s filled with gold and cash! Each commercial break was an agonizing step closer.
Finally, after building suspense for two hours, the construction machinery burst through the wall of Al Capone’s vault! And there, Geraldo discovered the lost treasures of Al Capone—a few dusty, empty bottles. Trying to save face he commented that the bottles were antiques and might be worth something. A bitter smartass even at that age, I was like “yeah buddy, they’re worth 5 cents in Michigan.”
What a huge disappointment! It severely killed my expectation of things for life, which I suppose is kind of a good thing… life will let you down, get used to it.
But I’m glad to say those hard moments made the good ones all that much better.
Throughout my life there were also times of enchantment—moments where I believed in magic and ghosts and the wonders of the universe. But that goddamn Geraldo gave me this curse of a skeptical arched eyebrow, one that will expect a pile of dusty beer bottles in your alleged magical treasure vault.
Here’s some links!
RIP Rosemary Ellen Guiley, paranormal author and speaker. I met her briefly at a conference in Rockford and she signed one of her books, which is one of the favorites in my library– The Encyclopedia of Demons and Demonology. Loren Coleman wrote an excellent retrospect of her career here: http://copycateffect.blogspot.com/2019/07/Guiley-obit.html
My book Apocalypse Any Day Now is available here: www.chicagoreviewpress.com/ApocalypseAnyDayNow
Speaking of, the Apocalypse Blog Book Club, which selects dystopian fiction to read will have a poll on a new title next week. You can find the club here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1482975718409410/
teakrulos.com 