Coda
Geraldo is still running off at the (big) mouth
Greg Bean

You know, one of these days someone is going to get fed up with Geraldo Rivera's threats and beat him like a rented mule.

Not that I watch either one of them on television, but there's apparently quite a feud going between Geraldo and MSNBC's Keith Olbermann, who recently gave Rivera one of his "Worst Person of the Year" awards because of his lousy treatment of John Kerry and other alleged indiscretions.

In response, Geraldo went on a radio program just before Christmas and - according to several media blogs about the subject - went ballistic. After calling Olbermann a part of the female anatomy who "wouldn't walk across the street against the red light," Geraldo reportedly said he was actually ready to fight the MSNBC commentator.

"I would make a pizza out of him," Rivera is quoted as saying.

Unfortunately, Olbermann did not take Rivera up on his offer to meet in a dark alley (maybe because he wears glasses), which would have been a wonderful turn of events. Both of those guys are so obnoxious that no matter which of them won, it would be, in Martha Stewart's words, "a good thing." And the only thing better than Olbermann putting Rivera in a body cast, or Rivera putting Olbermann in the emergency room, would be if they punched the dog slobber out of each other and both ended up in traction.

But it's not going to happen, and it looks like we'll have to hope that Geraldo eventually challenges someone like Hulk Hogan to a fight, and finally gets his long-awaited comeuppance (the broken nose he got when that skinhead hit him with a chair on one of his television shows wasn't enough of a drubbing to provide much satisfaction).

+ + +

Truth is, I could have prevented all this if I had only challenged Rivera to a duel myself back in 1999 when I had the provocation, and the chance. That was the year he threatened to beat me up - in a New York Times article, no less - because he claimed I'd been disrespectful to his then-wife, C.C. Dyer.

For new readers, here's what happened:

At that time, Rivera and Dyer were co-owners and co-publishers of the Two River Times, a weekly newspaper that covers the Red Bank area. Rivera had started the paper as sort of an ego thing because he owned an ostentatious house in the area called Rough Point and wanted to make some better connections to the community. And in spite of the fact that he wasn't around much, and neither was Dyer, his sister and the people he hired had made it a pretty good publication.

Still, for one reason or another, he decided he wanted to sell the Two River Times, and for a few months, he talked to the company I work for about buying it. We looked at it and made a bid we thought was fair, but Geraldo thought was too low.

Instead of simply doing the gentlemanly thing by calling to tell us he'd rejected our offer, however, he let us know by filling up his gas bag and writing a column in his paper in which he basically accused us of being soulless, low-balling corporate suits intent on ruining community journalism in Monmouth County.

It was his contention that he'd refused to sell, not because of our offering price, but because of his love for Red Bank and his desire to keep his beloved publication out of the uncaring hands of our conglomerate. He even said we lacked the stature to represent his paper (who you callin' short, Geraldo?).

It was a bunch of horse pucky, of course, and I responded in a column of my own. In that column, I pointed out that while he might be a big deal television personality who'd broken such important stories as the opening of Al Capone's vault, he didn't have much credibility as a small-town newspaperman, since neither he nor his wife were around much.

They were part-time publishers, I said, and - not to put too fine a point on it - dilettantes. I might have used the word elitists, too, but I can't remember for certain.

I thought that would be the end of it. He knocked me in a column, I knocked him in one. We were even.

But he wouldn't let it rest. A few days later (July 11, 1999), my wife and I were drinking coffee in the morning, reading The New York Times, when she let out a gasp.

"Oh my," she said, "look at this."

The article she was pointing to was the Times' coverage of the purchase dispute, and while their reporter didn't talk to me, they talked to Rivera, who said (referring to me), "You took some shots at my family last week that had nothing to do with the newspaper business. The next time you insult my family, I'm going to show you a restaurant on Broad Street (Red Bank) where they serve knuckle sandwiches."

Knuckle sandwiches? What kind of bonehead says something like knuckle sandwiches?

Geraldo Rivera, that's who. And as I said, I probably should have taken him up on his challenge.

He did some boxing as a young man, so he could undoubtedly take me in the ring (I'm 55, weigh 165 soaking wet, and these days usually walk with a stick for support). But I grew up in Wyoming throwing tomahawks at a stump in the back yard for entertainment, and I'm pretty good at it. That's what I should have challenged him to, a duel with tomahawks at 10 paces. I would have mopped the floor (made a pizza?) with him.

I coulda been a contendah.

+ + +

I missed my opportunity, though. I let the whole thing slide, and because of my inaction, Geraldo has trundled along, running his mouth, threatening to beat people up and never getting the good thumping he so richly deserves.

Now he's after geeky-looking Keith Olbermann, and who knows who he'll threaten to beat up after that? Barbara Walters? Katie Couric?

Probably nobody who might actually poke him in the kisser, that's for sure. As my old granddaddy would say, the man is all hat, no cattle. All talk, no tussle. All wind, no wallop. All jabber, no jab. All blow, no hard.

A pugilistic legend in his own mind. That's our Geraldo.

Greg Bean is executive editor of Greater Media Newspapers. You can reach him at gbean@gmnews.com.