Columnist Jeff German: Season of weirdness is upon us

Friday, Dec. 10, 2004 | 10:56 a.m.

It's the season to be jolly -- and celebrate the weirdness around us.

This is the time of the year, with the holidays approaching, when we see more than our usual share of strange stories in the news.

I saw a local television report the other day of a guy who claimed intruders broke into his home -- not to steal anything, but to spray paint his face black.

Another guy, just as crazy but more dangerous, took his neighbor hostage and held police at bay for 10 hours, claiming to be upset that local government officials were members of a satanic cult.

I've known various public servants to be corrupt, unethical, insensitive and just plain stupid over the years.

But devil worshippers? Only in the weird season.

And let's not forget the recent SpongeBob SquarePants thefts. We've been told that several of the 9-foot-tall inflatable cartoon characters were stolen from the rooftops of local Burger Kings in a bewildering crime wave that has broken the hearts of children everywhere.

Police say there's no truth to the rumor that the thieves left notes promising to return the SpongeBobs if the hamburger giant put more low-carb items on its menu.

In a crime of the cold-hearted, Target decided to play Scrooge this Christmas when it banned traditional Salvation Army bell ringers from its local department stores.

After the company was criticized for going off its rocker and, most of all, for lacking Christmas spirit, it decided to minimize public outrage by vowing to make a series of cash donations to the Salvation Army. The bell ringers, however, are still history. And so is the holiday cheer at Target.

But if you want the ultimate example of weirdness this holiday season, consider the story of the touring grilled cheese sandwich that, to some, bears the image of the Virgin Mary. This is the hallowed sandwich, prepared a decade ago, that sold on eBay for $28,000 last month.

It was on display this week at, of all places, the Hard Rock Cafe, which sits in the shadow of its big brother, the Hard Rock Hotel, the home of the 20-something party crowd. The hotel, you'll recall, landed in trouble with gaming regulators this year over its sin-oriented marketing campaign.

The irony of this cheesy visit wasn't lost on Kevin Kelley, the Hard Rock Hotel's president.

"I think it's pretty funny," says Kelley, who insists the sandwich's appearance was arranged by the cafe, not the hotel. "It's amazing what really turns people on these days."

But don't count on seeing any traces of the Virgin Mary in the Hard Rock's latest advertising campaign that will be unveiled after the first of the year, as the holiday craziness tapers off.

Kelley says the upcoming campaign, which he's trying to keep under wraps for now, will be just as irreverent as the one that caused the resort grief with regulators.

"Hopefully, it will raise some eyebrows," he says. "It should really portray the ethos of the Hard Rock Hotel."

That's without the blessing of the Virgin Mary, of course.