Nobody's pregnant, and no suburban cheerleaders or tennis coaches are involved. But still, Angel Montanez wonders: Isn't anyone interested in catching the creep who violated his little girl?
Montanez' daughter was a sophomore at Cleveland's Rhodes High when her 33-year-old art teacher, Michael Gonzalez, started taking her home for afternoon romps, according to police ["Head of the Crass," December 14]. The cops tried briefly to arrest him last year, but he skipped town. He was indicted on sexual battery charges, but no one went looking for him until Scene pointed out that shtupping a 14-year-old is, like, very uncool.
Finally, Gonzalez turned up at an airport in Texas, trying to sneak into the States. (When you're a perv and a moron, shouldn't you be a finalist for the schools CEO job?)
With the teacher in lockup, Montanez finally could rest easy. But last month, Judge Kathleen Sutula allowed Gonzalez to bond out after forking over just $500.
And though a pretrial conference is scheduled for this week, Montanez hasn't heard a word from prosecutors -- or even his own lawyers. "And now you're telling me he's out?" asks Dad. "Ain't that a bitch."
Uncle Tom's campaign
Ohioans disoriented by the multiple voices spewing from Ken Blackwell's mouth will have a new resource for deciphering his message: his upcoming book, Rebuilding America: A Prescription for Creating Strong Families, Building the Wealth of Working People, and Redeveloping Our Cities (Lucifer & Co.; $24.95).
The book will serve as his gubernatorial campaign platform for those countless swing voters who prefer 352 pages of self-serving bullshit over 30-second TV commercials. It was co-written by Jerome Corsi, author of the book that slammed Swift Boat veterans and an outspoken critic of Muslims, the Pope, and elderly gardening clubs.
The most interesting chapters include "Negroes Scare Me" and "I'm the Second Coming. No, Really."
Though Rebuilding America doesn't land in bookstores for three weeks, pre-orders through Amazon have topped 260 billion, according to figures certified by Barbara Byrd-Bennett. (Blackwell's staff didn't return Punch's calls seeking comment.)
As for area retailers' plans to host book-signings with Blackwell? In the words of Borders' marketing manager Darlene Collins: "At this time, I . . . no."
We'll take that as a maybe, Darlene.
The Democratic Party puts the D in dysfunction. Which makes it strangely appropriate that Sherrod Brown and Paul Hackett would settle their feud on Springer on the Radio.
After taking a paternity test to prove that he was not the father of Juanita's illegitimate child, Congressman Brown tried to quash the beef with Hackett, who accused Brown of being a snitch and running his mouth about mishandling body parts in Iraq. Fashizzle.
"I've never spoken about it and I won't speak about it," Brown said, while assuring Springer that his crew, B-Unit, did not diss Hackett.
Brown also gave love to the streets and suggested that Democrats should make raising the minimum wage a signature campaign issue -- a move sure to please Springer's largely unemployed fan base. "Come out and vote for a raise for yourself," Brown said. "That's the message we need."
That, and "Snitches belong in ditches." B-Unit!
At the Chagrin Valley Athletic Club last Friday, there were more calories being burned outside the club than in. According to a Bainbridge police report, the current girlfriend of one supposedly hot beau got into a catfight with the beau's ex. Hair was pulled, fists were raised, thighs were taut.
Management at the upscale club remains tight-lipped about the circumstances. Officer Jon Weiner, who responded to the incident, had no comment on the number of calories burned.
After being indicted for spending state money like the gay couple on Supermarket Sweep, Tom Noe is a little worried about being tried in his hometown. So he's asking the Ohio Supreme Court to discount every judge in Lucas County.
In an affidavit, Noe admits to using scorched-earth tactics during his reign as chairman of the Lucas Republican Party from 1992 to '95, as well as during his wife's tenure from 2002 to 2005. He cites the "career damage I inflicted or attempted to inflict on Democrat judicial candidates," and notes that Republican judges were either friends or beneficiaries of said mudslinging.
Conveniently, that leaves nobody else.
Noe's affidavit gives a rare, honest look at tales usually reserved for leather parties at Betty Montgomery's house after the jungle juice is gone.
Noe claims that he learned early on the virtue of "earned media" or, in layman's terms, filing bullshit legal and ethics complaints against Democrats to get free headlines.
He says he also recruited independent candidates to suck votes away from Democrats, going on to brag that "Democratic rivals typically identify me as the tactic's progenitor."
Noe even used his slimy reputation as a weapon in itself, endorsing Democrats so that their names would be soiled by the support of Satan.
When you say these things in a defense motion, you know you're in trouble.
The Ohio Department of Agriculture, like most state agencies, isn't exactly stocked with guys from Mensa. When we last checked with our protectors of the farm, they were spending $500,000 on a public service campaign to inform Ohioans that food comes from crops.
But outside the PR spotlight, the department has perfected another tradition of state governance: acting like mean little bastards.
Meet Millersburg farmer Arlie Stutzman, who's had a Grade B dairy license for 12 years, allowing him to sell milk to local cheese factories. On September 20, an undercover ag agent visited his farm and asked to buy a gallon of milk.
It's a no-no for a farmer to sell milk directly, so Stutzman offered to just give it to the man if he were truly in need. But the guy insisted on leaving two bucks. The agent then fetched an unmarked container from his car and had Stutzman's son fill it with milk.
In the dangerous world of the ag police, this constitutes a sting. Look for the new television series this fall: CSI: Undercover Milk Unit.
For the sin of selling in an unlabeled container, Stutzman had his license yanked. At an administrative hearing, he argued that the Amish faith taught him to share food with anybody in need, and asked that his penalty be reduced to a 60-day license suspension. His plea was rejected by department director Fred Dailey, who's also mean to baby deer and people in wheelchairs. Stutzman now faces additional fines if convicted at an April 17 hearing.
"I never realized that being generous and sharing food is a crime in Ohio," says Stutzman.