News and Grooves

News and Grooves June 18 When Pythons Go Missing and Grandmas Sink Putts

• Jim Murray

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We bring you a collection of surprising real-life stories interwoven with original musical compositions exploring themes of rebellion, love, and unexpected moments. Our sonic journey takes you from the legal troubles of an animal rights activist to the streets of Toronto where pythons roam free.

• Phil Demers faces police action over a seemingly innocent tweet about stealing a walrus
• 84-year-old Mary Ann Wakefield shocks a basketball arena by sinking a full-court putt
• A Pittsburgh supermarket owner orchestrates an elaborate coupon fraud scheme
• The Sinella family experiences a case of mistaken identity with their lost pet python
• Original musical pieces explore themes of maternal love, moonshine culture, and emotional resilience

Join us next Sunday for another episode featuring the most amazing original music on the Internet. This is an episode you simply can't afford to miss.


Speaker 1:

You're listening to the News and Grooves Podcast.

Speaker 2:

Taking it offline. Phil Demers was surprised to find the police at his door when he came out of the shower on July 24. The evening before, he'd sent what he believed to be an innocuous tweet Life is short Steal a walrus. But Demers's tongue-in-cheek missive had prompted Marineland Canada to call the cops. Demers, an employee-turned-whistleblower, had exposed the aquatic theme park's animal cruelty in 2012. In 2013, he was slapped with a lawsuit still ongoing for allegedly plotting a walrus heist, a charge he has long denied. The officers left without incident, and Demers is still intent on saving the walruses without stealing them.

Speaker 3:

Mama worked her hands Till the skin was rough. She taught us that love Is more than enough. In the kitchen light, her soul would shine, building our hearts One brick at a time. Mama's love raised us strong. Through the pain we carried on every hug, every tear, every line she drew. Mama's love was the temple we all knew. She had a voice like the morning rain, soft and sweet, but it hid her pain. With a plate of dreams and a spoon, so wise, she fed our future. We watched it rise. The hamlin's hum echoes deep in my chest, like her words when she'd say child, give your best. Rhythm drives slow, but it holds that power, like mama's faith in every hard hour.

Speaker 3:

Mama's love raised us strong. Through the pain we carried on, we'll be right back. Her laughter danced like a church bell's ring. Her wisdom flew on an angel's wing. The world was heavy, but she held her place. Never once did our mama lose grace. Mama's love raised us strong Through the pain we carried on every hug, every tear, every line she drew. Mama's love was the temple we all knew. We all knew who, who we all knew.

Speaker 1:

Ooh Mary Ann Wakefield, 84, became the unlikely star of a University of Mississippi basketball game in February when she was selected to participate in an entertainment break competition. The objective To sink a putt the entire length of the basketball court in order to win a new sedan. Wakefield couldn't see the ball once it rolled past the halfway line, but she heard the excited screams of the crowd when it hit the mark. No one was more surprised than Wakefield. She admitted that she's always been great at driving the ball, but hopeless on the putting green.

Speaker 3:

Dusty roads lead through the pine shade. Rusty trucks parked where deals got made. Whiskey filled Jars shine under the ridge. Secrets flow free From that old wooden bridge. Hounds barking loud At the black veil night, coyotes scream, shadows Twist in the light. The ridge hums low with danger and pride. Moonshine burns where the outlaws hide. Ride up to moonshine. Rich boy, leave your doubts and chains behind Fire and whiskey in your veins. Boy, find your freedom. Where wild hearts bind. The echoes of blue fields climb the dirt path. Lanterns flicker, faces veiled in wrath, smell of trouble mixed with sweet corn mash. Life on the edge burns, bright Gone in a flash. Rattle of jars against a truck, bed, steel Gunshots crack as the night reveals. Law don't scare. Where shadows grow, thick, moonshine, rich rains, wild and slick. Hands are rough, dirt-stained hearts of gold Carved in the rich stories, untold, bitter and sweet. Where rebellion lives, whiskey, trails of moonshine rich, scrimp and Scheme.

Speaker 2:

This past February, one Pittsburgh supermarket owner proved that a little saving here and there can really add up. Michael John Mihalik is accused of ordering employees at his shop and save locations to cut coupons out of unsold newspapers. Employees would then skim a corresponding amount of cash from the registers and hand over the coupons to Mihalik, who submitted them to manufacturers for credit. The Pilford profits eventually amounted to more.

Speaker 5:

My music hollers loud, won't die. It pulls me up when I scrape the sky. Heartbeat syncopated. Don't lie. Notes, my anchor burn to fly. Trumpet blares. My veins ignite, sansa form. Storm swirls the night. Hammond hums. It's flowing light. Rhythm driving Fights my fright, my music, my soul, my knife Carving through the edges of life, pain slashed open, melodies rife.

Speaker 3:

Harmony's savior cuts the strife.

Speaker 5:

Beats collide in the core of my chest. Hi-hats crashing, bass runs the test.

Speaker 3:

Sweat pores, earning every attest.

Speaker 5:

Life rhythm battles never rest.

Speaker 3:

Trumpets scream, saxophone wails, Hammond whispers telling tales. My blood rushes, fills my sails. This heartbeat never fails my music, my soul, my knife Carving through the edges of life. Pain slashed, open melodies rife. Harmony's savior cuts the strife.

Speaker 1:

When the Sinella family's pet snake, monty, went missing last June, they were uncertain they'd be able to find him in the streets of Toronto. So when animal services recovered a ball python nearby the following month, the Sinellas jumped at the chance to be reunited. Once the snake was home, however, they noticed his distinctive spots didn't match their past photos. It was a case of mistaken identity. The imposter turned out to be another rogue python lost to the city's underbelly. Fortunately, monty was found in the Sinellas' basement four months after his disappearance, but Torontonians are left to wonder just how many pythons are still slithering through the city's sewers a faded track.

Speaker 3:

Girl, you're tearing the seams of my soul, still holding on, but I start to lose control. One last chance. I'm begging here Through the smoke and the mirror's glare. Don't walk away, don't raise that hand. One last plea in this wasted land. Your love's a scorpion sting. It's a cruel twist, a mirage I reach that don't exist. His shadow lingers like a vulture. I say is this the truth or another lie? One last chance. I'm begging here, thank you. One last play in this wasted land, heaven sings that low, deep moan.

Speaker 4:

A reflection of how I've been left alone. The winds, how fierce, as if they know Our love's the sand and it's time to go.

Speaker 3:

One last chance. I'm begging here Through the smoke and the mirror's glare. Don't walk away, don't raise that hand.

Speaker 1:

One last plea in this wasted land. Guitar solo. Thank you so much for joining us. It's our next podcast Dropping this Sunday featuring the most amazing original music on the Internet. This is an episode you simply can't afford to miss. We can't wait to share it with you, then.