#MeToo: I, Buck Crimshaw, Am Also the Victim of Being A Serial Predator.
When they came for O’Reilly, I was silent. When they came for Big Harv, mum was the word. But if we’re doing torch and pitchfork for friggin’ Chuck Rose, then ol’ Buck can’t be far behind. So listen up, because I’m only gonna say this once, and then again as many times as the number of interview requests I receive in the coming weeks:
I, Buck Crimshaw, 30-year veteran of news media and political punditry, and author of such earth-shattering works as Two Wipes Only: Why We Shouldn't Go "Green", Words I Think We Should Still Say, and Mari-Wannabe: Why Bob Marley is Bad, am a #MeToo.
I figured that you, my loyal readers, my “Buckheads,” would want to hear an authentic account straight from the horse’s mouth, so I’m over here going full Mr. Ed, typing tearfully from the passenger seat of my buddy Bark’s golf cart while he gets me half a tuna salad sammie and a Lime-A-Rita from the refreshments girl next to the seniors’ box on hole six (Probably shouldn’t talk to her no more considering the circumstances of me being a #MeToo and all).
Let me get right to it: I’m a dog, darn it.
First time I woofed in a professional capacity was when I was nominated for a Regional Emmy for my story on the twerp at Lafayette West High who mowed “EAST IS LEAST” into the softball field at East High at midnight and cut all the toes off his left foot in the darkness (I called it “At LEAST East Has All Their Toes, Doofus”). Earned me quite a following in that market as the reporter who “tells it like it is” and has “little to no regard” for journalistic ethics.
Anyhow, I was riding pretty high with that nomination. And I’m pretty sure Darwin or one of those guys from back in the day who had a hard-on for birds once said that the smell of success is the most powerful pheromone in the animal kingdom. If that’s true, then, Christ alive, I was stinking to high damn heaven.
For the first time in my life, I was turning down ‘tang. I literally didn’t have time for it. My datebook was like the chalkboard in that Crowe flick about the math guy who had the bad dreams. But there was this one broad — Randi, the chick who made the teleprompter go — who didn’t want any of what I was serving. She thought I was pretty hard on that teenage vandal and one time I think I heard her say under her breath that I was wearing women’s pants (I’ve always been a 26 waist).
Listen, a man who has been nominated regionally for his work exposing the misdemeanors of an adolescent cripple is not used to hearing the word “no,” and I responded inappropriately. I won’t get into the specifics, but I will say that my actions resulted in an NDA and a six-year stretch where I couldn’t afford to do Easter weekend in Myrtle.
As time went on, I pretty much became a serial #MeToo. I learned this little trick somewhere along the way that if you show cell phone videos of yourself doing tantric Pilates to the HR girl, she’s either never gonna call you in for a closed-doors disciplinary meeting or you’re gonna leave your wife Branda for her. Either way, the office is your oyster, hombre.
Let me be clear: in no way, shape, form, or late-night fantasy do I condone the behavior I have exhibited over the past three-ish decades.As a father to four or maybe five daughters (Bintley, Claine, Romanthyn, Sayjie, and possibly Tayla), I get pretty hacked off when I think about a high-powered media personality doing any of the following:
- Linking his thumbs through the belt loops of a female co-worker’s Levi’s and gyrating her hips to the melody of the Monday Night Football song
- leaving the gripping script to an original stage production starring his and her genitals as Abraham and Mary Todd Lincoln on her desk
- Something else that’s pretty hot but definitely bad.
With all of that said, I would like to apologize for what I have done.
If, and seriously I mean IF, I have ever behaved in a manner that was simply too arousing for one of my female co-workers to continue adequately performing the duties of her probably pretty simple job, that’s just on me. In the future, I will be sure to enact more stringent vetting procedures during the hiring process, and give precedent to chick candidates that demonstrate nice hair, an adventurous spirit, and experience in beach volleyball. For the kingdom, the power, and the glory are Yours, now and forever. My bad.