"It's the police. Can you help us?” Not.

PLUS: Bernie Sanders' reaction to a disgraceful moment in the U.S. Senate

I was born in the Margaret Hague Hospital in Jersey City. I was taken home by my parents to a fifth floor walk-up on Kensington Avenue in 1970. 

My little sister came in 1972, and we moved to North Plainfield, NJ, where I would grow up and graduate with the class of 1988 from North Plainfield High School. The school was the home of the “fighting Canucks.”

Growing up, no one ever talked much about the Canadian woodsman on the football helmets and athletic uniforms. He just was. There was no person at any time who ever said it was unusual. Apparently, someone decided that North Plainfield was akin to “Little Canada” because according to Wikipedia: 

The Canuck nickname comes from the borough being called "Little Canada" for its location north of Plainfield and across the Green Brook, just as Canada lies north of the United States across the St. Lawrence River.

If this is true, it was a secret as big as what is talked about in cable news green rooms in 2023. I wasn’t in the room where it happens, so I just didn’t know. Of course, there is another version of history told from the perspective of Mr. Sorrentino, who was a bonafide North Plainfield legend, teaching physical ed by the 1980s. He had seen almost every generation of North Plainfielder pass through the school since he was a student. It was there that he would have first met Pat Pespas and Steve and Brian Pasch, but more on them in a minute.

Let’s get back to the story of the place from where those men came to better understand the scam ahead.  According to New Jersey Monthly:

Lions, Jaguars, and Bengals. Many school mascots in my home state are named for sleek and powerful animals, but in North Plainfield, the football, basketball, wrestling, and track teams are known as the Canucks. Yes, the school mascot is a Canadian woodsman — a bearded lumberjack in a plaid shirt and wool cap.

Why the Canuck? Well, North Plainfield was already slightly self-conscious about its previous mascot — the pine tree. Then, in the 1950s, kids from rival South Plainfield High School started sneaking into North Plainfield, and cutting down trees before football games.

“Look, I was always embarrassed by our symbol,” says assistant principal Ralph Sorrentino, a North Plainfield football player in the 1950s. “We had a mascot dressed as a tree. South Plainfield had a tiger.” It was a particular problem when they played the Metuchen Bulldogs. “You know what dogs do to trees,” he says.

So in the early 1970s North Plainfield’s teams became the Canucks — woodsmen who cut down trees. Besides, the town of North Plainfield had something of a French-Canadian population, so the name seemed logical.

But is the term Canucks politically correct? “No one gives us any flak about it,” says Sorrentino. The Canuck woodsman is a symbol of strength, he says, and North Plainfield’s sports teams are staunch.

Now, if only someone would explain some of the other unusual state mascots — the Ghosts of Paterson or the Green Wave of Audubon. What’s up with those?

There is much that can be said about life in New Jersey, and it’s incredible-ness, but they are nothing compared to the story from the HBO documentary series “Telemarketers.” It tells the story of scammers conning Americans in partnership with police unions and other “law enforcement organizations,” who purport to raise money for the children of slain officers, and provide other support to law enforcement agencies, officers and families. 

A few months back, I was talking to a high school friend, and she asked whether I had seen the series. I said that I hadn’t. She asked if I knew the names of the main characters, and the truth was that I didn’t. She informed me that they were all from North Plainfield, and said that the story was unbelievable, but completely true and absolutely amazing. Truly, it is the only docuseries that I’ve ever watched through multiple episodes absolutely slack jawed. Incredible doesn’t begin to describe it. Here’s the official trailer:

A special treat for all those who watch this amazing documentary — and I do mean amazing — will be the interview of Senator Richard Blumenthal by Pat Pespas.

Today, my phone rang, and I accidentally answered it. There was a voice on the other end. It was Frank Wallace from the American Police Officers Alliance. 

I knew exactly what it was because I had seen “Telemarketers.”

I started asking questions, and before long, the conman blurted out that I would be put on the “DNC” (do not call) list. I recorded some of the conversation, which went like this:

Frank: You will be helping the homes and communities, as well as provide assistance to the families of those police officers who have been killed in the line of duty. So, it’s important that we elect lawmakers who have these goals in mind. So, when you receive your donation return envelope, can we count on you to return a small donation to our drive?

Me: Of course.

Frank: What was that?

Me: Of course. Yes.

Frank: Oh, that’s wonderful. Thank you so much. Our top donation levels are $50, $35 and $30. Can we count on your support with one of these dollar levels?

Me: Of course. Yes. Can I give more than $50?

Frank: Uh-huh. So how much would you like to donate?

Me: I don’t know. The police are in so much trouble these days because of Black Lives Matter and Antifa, and they’re all out to get Mr. Trump. I just want to help.

Frank: I’ll make sure to put you on our DNC list.

[And then Frank hung up.]

We live in the age of the bully, the con, the mob and the taker. It is time to bring it to an end with better. 

There are scammers everywhere. Beware the ones who call you pretending to be cops. They are as bad as the ones shaking down old ladies for democracy.   

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VIDEO COMMENTARY: My reaction to Markwayne Mullin challenging union boss to fight

If you didn’t get a chance to read my essay from yesterday, here is what I think of Oklahoma Senator Markwayne Mullin challenging union boss Sean O’Brien to a fight on the Senate floor on Tuesday. Bernie Sanders’ disgust proves that he is one of the few members of the Senate left with commendable character: