-Caveat Lector-
----- Original Message -----
From: "Michael Moore" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
To: <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
Sent: Monday, March 11, 2002 1:22 PM
Subject: [Mike's Message] Police Raid Booksigning for Stupid White Men
Police Raid, Shut Down My Booksigning in San Diego
Dear Friends,
It's a few minutes before midnight, on Friday night on 3/8/2002. I'm in San
Diego, and I have just escaped being arrested by the San Diego police. This
book tour keeps getting more surreal, but the last hour has been unlike
anything I have yet seen.
I have come to San Diego to speak at an event organized for my book
("Stupid White Men"). The event is being held at a middle school in an
auditorium that seats about 800 people. I have spent the week in
California, pretty much at my own expense. Weeks ago, the publisher
informed me that they would not be sending me to this state if they had to
pay to get me there.
So I called up my friends at "Politically Incorrect" and asked if they
could book me on the show and bring me out there. They were more than happy
to help out. I can't believe the crap this show has had to endure because
its host one night, early on in "America's NEW War" had the guts to state
the truth as he saw it. Now advertisers have dropped like flies, affiliates
in DC, Columbus, and other cities have canceled the program, and ABC seems
eager to deep-six the whole hour it shares with "Nightline." But, for now,
they have come to my aid, and I am grateful.
In the past six days, I have spoken to 15 separate mobs of people. I don't
know what other word to use because, quite simply, wherever I go, there is
this unbelievable pandemonium. Every day, every night, hundreds -- or
thousands -- jam themselves into halls, arenas, churches, auditoriums to
listen to me talk about my book and whatever else is struggling to make its
way through my brain. Forget about standing room only -- these venues look
more like breathing room only. A clever fire marshal could have made a
small fortune tailing me across this state. As I look out at the crowds of
humans doing their best to impersonate sardines, I worry not that some
deranged person may shout "Fire!" but rather that someone may belt out,
"There's an extra six inches over here by the radiator!"
I have visited the most out-of-the-way places in California and, no matter
where I go or how right-wing the congressman is that represents their
district, all sorts of people are desperate to get inside to be with the
thousands of others who want to be part of "United We Stand Against the
Thief-in-Chief." Grass Valley, Hayward, San Francisco, Santa Rosa, Ukiah,
Arcata, Berkeley, Westwood, East L.A., Koreatown (L.A.) -- I wish all of
you could see what I have seen. In every town, at every stop, huge throngs
of Americans who are sick and tired of the silence that has been demanded
of them, lest they be thought of as "unpatriotic" should they dare to
question the actions of George W. Bush and company. That's what this tour
is all about. It's time to come out and start acting like Americans again.
And then there was San Diego.
Over a thousand people are packed inside the 800-seat auditorium. Outside,
another thousand people are on the lawn trying to get in. The traffic on
the street is tied up and the stream of San Diegoans keeps filing up the
sidewalk. I tell the organizers that I am going to spend a half-hour
outside here speaking to the people who cannot get in. They are, after all,
like me -- slackers who are habitually late. The crowd outdoors is wired
and jazzed that they are being honored for being tardy.
Then I go inside, give my usual talk, and begin to sign books. There's a
90-year-old lady whose granddaughter has driven her down from Orange
County. There's a union organizer from the antiunion San Diego
Union-Tribune newspaper who announces that his grandfather was a sit-down
striker with my uncle back in 1937 in Flint. Some punk-poet kid tries to
finish me off for good by offering me two Krispy Kreme donuts. Hundreds
line up to have their books, their "Awful Truth" DVDs and, in one case, an
Iron Maiden jean jacket, signed. I am told that we are getting close to the
time when we will have to leave the school, as it has only been rented
until 11pm. That is not good. Hundreds are still in line. I don't think any
of these signings this week have been over before midnight.
Somewhere around 11:30pm, I hear a commotion at the back of the auditorium.
I see people start to scatter. The San Diego police are coming down the
aisle, their large flashlights out (the auditorium lights are still on, so
we all understand the implied "other" use of these instruments). The police
are telling everyone to "VACATE THESE PREMISES IMMEDIATELY OR YOU WILL ALL
BE ARRESTED!" I cannot believe what I am hearing. "YOU WILL NOT RECEIVE
ANOTHER WARNING. LEAVE NOW -- OR FACE ARREST!"
The cops approach the stage where I am signing the books. People are
visibly frightened -- and about half the book-line bolts toward the doors.
I stand up and speak to the officers. "I am the author of this book," I
tell them politely. "These people are only here to get a book and all I am
doing is signing them. We will be done shortly."
"I don't care who you are," they reply. "We have received a call from the
school district and we have been told to remove you. You were supposed to
be out of here at 11:00pm." We had apparently violated our curfew.
"C'mon guys, you can't be serious," I said. "Are you saying that you are
going to arrest me for signing people's books, and arrest the people who
are here because they want to read this book?"
"I don't care what you are doing -- this is your last warning. I am ready
to arrest you and everyone else."
"Who is your superior?" I ask.
"I'm it. Only the Chief is above me at night, and I am not going to wake
him up. This has already gone through many channels. We are here because
this has already gone through many people in the last half-hour, people in
authority, and the decision has been made to clear you out of here or
arrest you."
I have never been arrested, strange as that may seem. I could not believe
that, of all I have done, all I have stood for over the years, that it has
come down to this -- and I was about to be hauled away for autographing
books!
"OK," I said. "We'll leave." I then mumbled something about the last time I
checked, this was still the United States of America -- even if we were
just five miles away from where it ends. They escorted me and the few
remaining souls out of the building. The brave lady who was the owner of
the independent bookstore and who was there selling my book, leaned over
and whispered to me, "I am willing to go to jail for this if you want me
to." Ya gotta hand it to the independent bookstores -- they've been through
hell lately, so much so that they are now ready to be led away in handcuffs!
I walked outside and about 40 people ask me if I would still sign their
books in the dark of the parking lot. A girl gets out her pocket
flashlight. A guy runs over and turns on his headlights. I remark that it
feels like we're in some sort of banana republic or East Berlin, secretly
meeting so we can have our little book gathering. "Sign quick, Mike, here
come the police!"
I finish the last book and hop in my sister's car. She remembers to give me
a plaque that had been presented to me in abstentia (while I was outside
talking to the people who couldn't get in). It was from the city
councilwoman from the area of San Diego we were in. It read "Official
Proclamation: City of San Diego Declares -- March 9, 2002, 'Michael Moore
Day.'"
"Maybe we should have shown this to the cops, " she says. We drive to her
house where I catch four hours sleep before I get up and head for Denver.
Yours,
Michael Moore
Author
Filmmaker
NonEvildoer
[EMAIL PROTECTED]
[EMAIL PROTECTED]
www.michaelmoore.com
PS. I have heard from so many of you about how hard it is to find my book
in the bookstores. It's true -- the book does not exist in most stores. Yet
it is #1 in most cities across the country on the bestseller lists. I don't
get it. HarperCollins has been very slow to print books and get them out
there. Why this is, I do not know. No doubt they have been caught by
surprise with the overwhelming response to the book. You can't really blame
them -- they thought the "president" had an 80% approval rating.
Bookstore owners have been desperately pleading with me to help them get
books shipped to their stores. I called HarperCollins, and their official
line is that "There are plenty of books out there and the book has never
been out of stock." Everything that I and others have personally seen says
the exact opposite.
So, I need your help. If you go to a bookstore and they don't have the
book, please send an email to HarperCollins at ...
<http://www.harpercollins.com/hc/aboutus/contactus.asp>
... and be sure to c.c. me at ...
[EMAIL PROTECTED]
Hopefully, this will help.
You can also call the Customer Service Hotline at ...
800.242.7737
(Punch in 1,1,0 to get to message center.)
PPS. This week, you can catch my Stupid Tour in Ann Arbor and Detroit on
Tuesday, Flint on Wednesday, Chicago on Thursday, and Minneapolis/St. Paul
on Friday.
Check my website, www/michaelmoore.com, for further details.
<A HREF="http://www.ctrl.org/";>www.ctrl.org</A>
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