Ronnie Mund is so respected, so loved and so needed by the American people he could be caught with an infant in a parked car and still be applauded on stage the next day. He's a good actor, great performer and a good father - just a great guy, patriot, visionary, looking for artistic perfection, for that single shot blessed by God which becomes an oil painting, a masterpiece, I think can be forgiven if someone with Craft Service at AGT screws up his omelette and he calls them a simple-minded spook'a'delia or ‘spic piece uh shit.’ But who weeps for ex-wife Bonnie, thrown into the street by Ronald like so much garbage? As she cries in her bed at night, can anyone truly know the depths of her loneliness? Ronald's words still echoing in your head- “A cham pane room blow job is something you dont nevva wanna forget." I don't get it. How does Ronald in good conscience go from this sweet portrait of gentle disposition, loving mother and grandmother, preparer of pot roast, concerned citizen and neighborhood watch commander, .. To this? How do he do it mammy?