Many use these new fangled inventions to cut out the commercials from the TViewing but they don't know what they are missing. Many of these commercials are more entertaining the the shows they are watching. Yes, the commercials are entertaining, informative, instructive and some boring and distasteful, but most show great creativity. Let me start out by commenting on the anti-smoking commercial shown here in NY. We have a big black guy sitting in a chair with his back to us and he is wheezing almost suffocating. And it gets worse as the camera pans in to how parts of his face with tubes going in his nose and he is in great pain and discomfort as he tries laboriously to breathe. Then the words come on that dying from smoking is never easy and always painful.
This is a very tough commercial and when I see it I always turn to another station. Volunteering in a Nursing Home I get to see something like that in person. So do the workers, Aids, Porters, Nurses, rehab specialist and the DOCTORS. Yet on the break they go outside off the grounds and do what. SMOKE!!!!!! The ones who treat those who actually are dying from smoking are not deterred by the up-close scene how in the world do those who put on the anti-smoking commercial I described think that will provide a detriment? The price of cigarettes loosies were two for a penny when I started, albeit I was six, a pack was around ten or fifteen cents now they go as high as Eleven dollars a pack. I think if they went as high as one hundred dollars a pack those who want to smoke would find a way to support the habit even if it meant no food on the table. They have got to come up with a better way to inform, educate those who are smokers so that they quit, perhaps they should try entertaining them because drama isn't working. By the way I quit some 27 years ago.
I would like to cover a group of products which fall under medicines that present a pretty picture of people first in pain, most of the times, then when they take the product they are moving about, happy, with peace of mind. While the visual aspects are very good and the introductory words seem hopeful you have to listen very carefully or read the fine print at the top or bottom of the page which can hardly be seen. These notations usually contain words like the medicine may not be for everyone, if you have strange feelings contact your doctor immediately as they may be signs of stoke, heart attacks, nervous breakdowns, or may even result in death and by the way improvement in some cases, like Alzheimers may only be short term (They never say how short the term is). Makes one wonder why everybody is so happy if at any time the medicine can turn against them and make their condition worse. Doesn't it?
Now let's get to the commercials for Cialis. Everbody is always smiling and happy. Wouldn't you be all smilly face too if you could stop painting and have your house turned into a beachfront love nest and find you and your mate sitting naked in an empty bath tub? Let's get real! First of all I have a stall shower and that is a lot more fun than an empty bath tub that only fits one. AND when I'm painting, which I try NEVER to do, there is no way we are going to jump into sack until we wash! Oh yeah, there is another commercial that shows a guy eating and he has a crumb on his mouth and his wife comes over and wipes it off and they get "that" look and end up watching a play and of course in their seperate bath-tubs. Come on! If I have food on my lips she makes an ugly scunched up face and sort of disgustingly makes a gesture that I should get a naptkin. We are not running off, smiling to our sepaerate bath-tubs. Of course the commercials always end with both of them instructing you what to do iof you find yourself dying from taking this stuff and over-exerting yourself. But they make sure they are not leering but are gently smiling transmitting the idea, "Ain"t Life GREAT!"
A commercial that has been playing for a short time starts out with some really clean, nice looking but not sexy women. They start out with a serious look as they say "It is time to get serious!" Then it goes on to say this is really serious! They've got my attention then the say it is time to say what we really want from toilet paper. Really? Funny but I thought I always had a pretty good idea what the whole toilet paper scene is. Maybe I was wrong so I listen intently. A spokeswomen kind of hefty, not fat just pleasantly plump, dressed in a summer type of outfit, motherly not sexy, looking as though she just stepped out of a shower looking and I imagine smelling very clean. With a big smile on her face looking almost a little uncomfortable but knowing in her motherly way she has to say the whole thing is to be clean with no breakage. I am now getting the idea that America may be a bit unclean with the toilet paper breaking in everyone's hand while it was being put to use. This could be a problem especially having a stronger meaning when our critics say "America Stinks!". But then I get indignant. This whole commercial is talking about cleanliness by women without one male in sight. What are they saying? The American male don't care or is too immature to know how to use toilet paper and Mommy has to teach them hygiene again? I think this is a sexist commercial implying the American male has a stinky behind that has to be tended to by Mommie again. This is a lot of s**t. I am laughing very hard at this point and I don't know what brand of toilet paper they are pitching. The thought runs through my mind back in the day they used to refer to toilet paper as facial tissue which I always thought missed the point. The Mr. Whipple, Charmin commercials that ran from 1964 to 1985 were far better in advancing the product and the telling of the virtues of Charmin.
The commercials that use the term PRE-OWNED instead of USED cars always amuse me as they try to sell the idea that the owners that had the car before always took care of them and of course the manufacturer wouldn't try to screw you. Would they? No Caveat Emptor! Sure! There is one for Audi though that is cute. A gal comes out of a Starbucks (?) holding a coffee and a bag of something to nosh on. She is met by the guy who tells her to be careful because after she trades it in he will be the second owner. She looks like she thinks he is crazy and as she drives off he has the bag and is noshing on her nosh while he says "Be careful with our car." Well done and I know the make but I'll never buy a used car if I can help it even if it is called "PRE-OWNED"!
I love the commercial that shows the dog while "worry, worry, worry" plays in the background as the dog is concerned that someone, another dog perhaps, will steal his bone. Finally he insures it and he can play happily again because he has no worries. As if the insurance company will cover his losses. We know better don't we? After filling out ten thousand forms and we can't come up with the original invoice showing the cost of the bone we get zilch! But we have to continue to pay the premiums. Great commercial.
Did you see the insurance one that ask's a question and then proves it. I loved "Does it take two to Tango?".
I use this company but not because of this commercial but I do admire their creativity. After the question is asked it shows two people Tangoing with a teacher somehow getting in-between them. Hilarious.
Before I close I must mention the Bra commercials. They are instructive as I never knew so much went into the selection of this item. I am happy to learn and am very attentive to these commercials so when I get past the training Bra stage I will use this knowledge to my benefit.
"Big Brother", "Jersey Shore", and all the junk which is foisted on to the TViewing public while they miss the best, the most creative art form by not watching the commercials which in many case are far better artistically providing great entertainment, and useful information in 30 second clips.
Friday, August 19, 2011
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Some More Summer Games
The Blog of Maria Schulz, http://talesfromahungrylife@wordpress.com just posted "Summer Games"brought to mind games young boys played when I was a kid. Give a guy a ball and there was a hundred different things he could do with it. A rubber ball and a stoop gave birth to three or four different stoop ball or wall ball games. Add the sawed off stick from Mom's broom and you had fast pitch, stick ball and without the stick there was punch ball or slap ball. The ball, stick or bat if you will add gloves and some catcher's equipment and you had a softball game or baseball game. We didn't use helmets or anything like that our heads were hard enough to withstand any smack a ball might give. When there was enough guys around for a full team even the method of choosing a team was a game. If we had 18 or 20 guys we could play a neighborhood make-up game of softball at the school yard. The guys that owned the bats, ball and gloves had the say as to the method of choosing. I guess two guys that did the choosing could be called the managers but after the team was chosen and the line-ups made there was little managing to be done. A bat would be turned upside down and tossed to the other chooser who was to catch it with one hand, furthest away from the handle as possible. Then the other chooser would place his hand on the handle directly above the opposing guy and they would do this until they reached the knob and if possible grab the knob only by the fingertips. If one guy was able to cover the knob with a full grip this was good for him but the fingertip hold was precarious. The next move was the guy with the knob grip, fingertip or hand, would have to turn the bat around his body over his head three times and then hold it at arms length while the other guy would try and kick the bat out of his grip. After three kicks and the guy still had the bat in his grip that guy had first pick however if the bat was kicked out of the grippers hand the kicker had first pick. First pick was important because it set up the whole pick-up team but sometimes the later picks did OK too. When there was more than 20 guys present there was always the humiliation of not being picked at all but those guys hung around to cheer and boo and maybe get into a game if someone got hurt or had to go home because his mother was calling him. Sometimes other methods of choosing were employed like the finger method where two guys would play two of three by yelling 1,2,3 then sticking out one or two fingers. One guy was odd the other even. There was also a one potato two potato method but considered somewhat girly by some. This was usually used to see who would be "it" in the game of tag or who would "seek" in the game of Hide and Seek. Standing in a circle one guy or girl would start by raising one clenched fist to their mouth saying one potato then hitting their left hand with two potato going to the next person around the horn up to seven potato with the eighth one being "MORE" and that hand would be put behind the person's back. This would be repeated until all were eliminated except one and that the "it" or "seeker". I hope I haven't lost you. This is some of the ways these games would choose up sides but there were other games that were played that were a lot of fun that really had no sides and no winners or losers in some participant's eyes. These could be considered party games but could be played out doors under a shady tree or in an abandon foundation of a house started but never completed.
Another fun game was Post Office. I really don't remember all of the rules but it was co-ed. I seem to remember something like a girl going into a room and a guy requesting 2 or 3 stamps and if permission was granted he went into the room and collected his stamps coming out of the room smacking his lips.
But I digress. I started out talking about games with sticks, bats, balls, gloves and some cather's equipment.
Today you have Little League, which I hate since it wiped out all the initiative kids had to get a team including managers together. It is Baseball kids play for the gratification of their parents. It is organized in the image of the major leagues with many written rules governing team choices to games played. The fathers unfulfilled dreams are being completed as they run the whole show and the mothers are all agog over little Jr. performing so well as if it reflected on her being a good mother. Some of the kids are under tremendous pressure exerted by parents that they hardly ever enjoy the pure joy of just being a kid playing ball. Bushwicks and The House Of David, a Jewish team were two teams among many that played great semi-pro ball. Today Little League and the softball leagues are around but for the most part they really don't approximate baseball.
As we grew older and the summer nights got hotter the guys and gals would hang together on the front porch. In the evening we'd play a game called perdidle or perdoodle. If a car came by with one headlight one would call out perdidle or perdoodle. If the girl called it first she could punch the guy hard in the arm, if the guy called it first he got a kiss.
The summer nights were nice because the suns hot rays were gone and even if it was still hot it had the feel of cooling. The only air condition we had was a fan, maybe, and the cool night air. Sometimes it was difficult to sleep and took maybe 15 minutes but we were so tired from all the day's activities that we were soon in the land of nod dreaming of tomorrow's summer games.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Government or Mafia, What's The Difference?
The DOW was up and down in violent gyrations all week and depending on today's final result may even out after all this bull-s**t. Congress went on vacation and so did the President. What the hell, they screwed up the lives of many and claimed to be doing it for the best of "the American people" but all that really matters to them is that they be re-elected come hell or high water. BUT, no matter how the greedy and selfish try to soak up all the wealth of this country for themselves we believers know that the country will emerge stronger and better despite these incompetents fumblers, bumblers and gangsters.
Some may cringe at my use of the term "gangsters" for our politicians but if I may let us compare them to what we saw on the now expired HBO show, "The Sopranos". Without belaboring the whole thing, each has their territory and if one challenges the other a war erupts and killing follows until one mob takes control again. Sort of like the Dems. and Republicans isn't it. Each party will do what it has to do to regain power for power comes with wealth and rule. The heads of the parties get the most wealth and rule to generate more wealth and they pass some of this back down to the soldiers which include those who actually fight to those who are idea men. Meanwhile the bosses have a great time living lives of debauchery and gluttony.
We are in a few wars, I have lost count, our soldiers for the most part come from the economic underprivileged except of course for those who have graduated form our politically appointed war colleges like West Point or the Navel Academy. These guys get the chance to become top officers while the real fighters may rise to a battlefield commission but more likely to a non-commissioned officer whose highest ranking may be Sargent Major or Chief Warrant. Naturally only those "connected" get the chance to rise above the standing from which they have come. However, not all fight and those that don't manage to escape without wounds or bruises but upon entering civilian life again they find a struggle not envisioned because they are not "connected".
The common citizen is also a soldier in the political army. Some enter the political parties and do what they must to advance but unless they are "connected" the chance of rising above a mere "foot soldier" is very little. But our politicians need many "foot soldiers" to run the errands, putting up posters, making phone calls and finding recent deaths who can vote again for them. For the most part the cream doesn't rise to the top, rather one who is in the know, if you have come into money or became a business success then "they" will seek you out. Anyone out there remember "The Sopranos"? Or better yet. the newer HBO series "Boardwalk Empire"? While these guys were solidifying their positions and getting more powerful and wealthy they were doing "good" for the peons they needed in order to stay in power. Whenever they had to murder someone it was nothing personal "only business".
So MR. Senator, Mr. Representative, Mr. President enjoy your vacations and somehow we will get out of this mess you've gotten us into and will be here for all of you, without rancor, when you return, because we know it isn't personal it is just business and this is what we are sure you will be giving us, "the business".
Some may cringe at my use of the term "gangsters" for our politicians but if I may let us compare them to what we saw on the now expired HBO show, "The Sopranos". Without belaboring the whole thing, each has their territory and if one challenges the other a war erupts and killing follows until one mob takes control again. Sort of like the Dems. and Republicans isn't it. Each party will do what it has to do to regain power for power comes with wealth and rule. The heads of the parties get the most wealth and rule to generate more wealth and they pass some of this back down to the soldiers which include those who actually fight to those who are idea men. Meanwhile the bosses have a great time living lives of debauchery and gluttony.
We are in a few wars, I have lost count, our soldiers for the most part come from the economic underprivileged except of course for those who have graduated form our politically appointed war colleges like West Point or the Navel Academy. These guys get the chance to become top officers while the real fighters may rise to a battlefield commission but more likely to a non-commissioned officer whose highest ranking may be Sargent Major or Chief Warrant. Naturally only those "connected" get the chance to rise above the standing from which they have come. However, not all fight and those that don't manage to escape without wounds or bruises but upon entering civilian life again they find a struggle not envisioned because they are not "connected".
The common citizen is also a soldier in the political army. Some enter the political parties and do what they must to advance but unless they are "connected" the chance of rising above a mere "foot soldier" is very little. But our politicians need many "foot soldiers" to run the errands, putting up posters, making phone calls and finding recent deaths who can vote again for them. For the most part the cream doesn't rise to the top, rather one who is in the know, if you have come into money or became a business success then "they" will seek you out. Anyone out there remember "The Sopranos"? Or better yet. the newer HBO series "Boardwalk Empire"? While these guys were solidifying their positions and getting more powerful and wealthy they were doing "good" for the peons they needed in order to stay in power. Whenever they had to murder someone it was nothing personal "only business".
So MR. Senator, Mr. Representative, Mr. President enjoy your vacations and somehow we will get out of this mess you've gotten us into and will be here for all of you, without rancor, when you return, because we know it isn't personal it is just business and this is what we are sure you will be giving us, "the business".
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Rants and Raves
When are our leaders going to lead? They all seem to say they are doing what the American people want them to do. Who are these "people" they are always referring to? The ones reflected in the various polls? The ones who elected them from their districts? Or the PACS and other lobbyists that have a funded their campaigns? It seems to me that if all these guys are going to do is what the "American People" want them to do we might get in a lot of deep s**t! Just think back to the days when we as a nation were trying to integrate a segregated society. Many of the "American People" were against this, In fact Gov. George Wallace led his contingent of "American People" to block such a move. Our leaders at the time enforced our laws which were correct from a legal and moral standpoint despite the pressures to yield to certain State Righters and segregationists. They led, they didn't follow the so called "will" of the people because they were correct, right, and the "American People" were wrong.
The United States is still in the middle of a deep recession despite what many Economist might dispute but try and tell the sixteen million unemployed and underemployed any different. We are on the verge of repeating mistakes of The Great Depression. We could have learned a great deal from this history of ours. We were on the way out of the Depression when those in the Congress forced the President to raise taxes and cut spending which forced us back into the depression from which only the Second World War could rescue us. The mistake? When we are battling economic turn-downs more spending is needed not less. It is true that we have to curtail spending and limit debt but that comes AFTER we have rebounded from down-turns and get into prosperity. The cry that Government does not create jobs is untrue. Spending for infra-structure like repairing roads, bridges, building dams and the such, create jobs which spawn small business' to form and create new jobs around the activity these big projects create. The more jobs the greater revenue.
The Bush tax cuts for the wealthy and the tax loopholes for big business have already created big deficits in our economy without increasing jobs. If this statement is incorrect just look at the figures, unemployment and underemployment remain at record levels while the real tax rates for the most wealthy and biggest business are at record lows. Show me the beef! It seems that the most wealthy should contribute something in getting our economy back to good levels.
President Obama has been too quiet. President Obama should come up with a solid jobs plan including public works and even if it won't pass, he should fight for it and take his case to the voting electorate. He should lead and not follow the whims of the polls and the minority representation calling for more cuts not caring if they wreck the economy as long as they get rid of President Obama. There seems to be a special hatred for the President by his enemies, maybe because he is black but I am sure there is even more to it than that. President Clinton had this type of thing used against him and I am not referring to his sexual peccadilloes rather the inference that the Clintons were involved in financial wrongdoings and maybe even murder. The Clinton enemies seem to have faded but the Obama enemies have not and they will do all to destroy the man. He has to fight back doing this by leading and proposing innovative and daring legislation, if not he surely will be only a one term President and his enemies will destroy us giving into the special interests who want to dismantle the entitlement programs while they feast on the wealth of the nation.
The United States is still in the middle of a deep recession despite what many Economist might dispute but try and tell the sixteen million unemployed and underemployed any different. We are on the verge of repeating mistakes of The Great Depression. We could have learned a great deal from this history of ours. We were on the way out of the Depression when those in the Congress forced the President to raise taxes and cut spending which forced us back into the depression from which only the Second World War could rescue us. The mistake? When we are battling economic turn-downs more spending is needed not less. It is true that we have to curtail spending and limit debt but that comes AFTER we have rebounded from down-turns and get into prosperity. The cry that Government does not create jobs is untrue. Spending for infra-structure like repairing roads, bridges, building dams and the such, create jobs which spawn small business' to form and create new jobs around the activity these big projects create. The more jobs the greater revenue.
The Bush tax cuts for the wealthy and the tax loopholes for big business have already created big deficits in our economy without increasing jobs. If this statement is incorrect just look at the figures, unemployment and underemployment remain at record levels while the real tax rates for the most wealthy and biggest business are at record lows. Show me the beef! It seems that the most wealthy should contribute something in getting our economy back to good levels.
President Obama has been too quiet. President Obama should come up with a solid jobs plan including public works and even if it won't pass, he should fight for it and take his case to the voting electorate. He should lead and not follow the whims of the polls and the minority representation calling for more cuts not caring if they wreck the economy as long as they get rid of President Obama. There seems to be a special hatred for the President by his enemies, maybe because he is black but I am sure there is even more to it than that. President Clinton had this type of thing used against him and I am not referring to his sexual peccadilloes rather the inference that the Clintons were involved in financial wrongdoings and maybe even murder. The Clinton enemies seem to have faded but the Obama enemies have not and they will do all to destroy the man. He has to fight back doing this by leading and proposing innovative and daring legislation, if not he surely will be only a one term President and his enemies will destroy us giving into the special interests who want to dismantle the entitlement programs while they feast on the wealth of the nation.
Friday, July 29, 2011
Leaving Home, Queensborough Hill
He was about twenty years old when his folks decided to sell their home in "The Hill". He had graduated from High School two years earlier and went right to work. Back in the day, guys from his background didn't think about going to College. Back then they were lucky to finish High School and had to earn a few bucks to help out at home and earn their own way. However he didn't have enough to go out on his own and figured he'd stay with his parents until he was able to support an apartment and all that goes with living by yourself. So even though he didn't like the idea of moving from "The Hill" he had to do it. He figured he could come back and hang out with the guys a few days a week or at least on the weekend.
"The Hill" was practically all he knew. He was five when he moved there and that meant fifteen of his twenty years he was at home on "The Hill". He lived around the corner from the elementary school which had a big schoolyard. He went to that school for eight years the way God meant it to be with grades numbered from one to eight split in six month frames, A and B. The schoolyard was the center of social activity growing up. It goes without saying that during school days the yard was full since every one had to line up before going into class. During these times there were about three hundred kids playing in the yard which had a full court basketball court, two softball fields on concrete, numerous handball courts and a made up Chinese handball set up which ended up with the loser having to go asses up as the participants threw the spaulding at the target which of course was, what else (?), somebody's ass.
After school and days with no school everybody would go back to the school yard where they'd play ball, fast pitch, stick ball, basketball, hand ball and in the corner guys would shoot craps. The cops would raid the game once in a while. They kept the pot and if they caught any one they'd bring them home where Mom would make them regret being caught but they'd be back the next day making sure they would run faster the next time. Everybody knew everybody. There was a fight every day but the next day the winners and losers would be pals again, until the next fight. There was a pecking order in the school yard that no one challenged. The older guys had dibs on the ball fields and if they came while the younger guys were playing they'd kick you off the field and maybe use your glove, which you were proud to give for the game. The games were good and hard fought with the winner s keeping the clincher which was chipped in and bought new for the game. The bats were wood, if broke they were nailed and taped as who could afford to buy bats each day at the cost of three or four bucks each. The softballs would be taped as they lost their cover. In the winter roller hockey was played with great gusto and verve. Guys like Moose were usually on the winning side.
Even outside the schoolyard everybody knew everybody else. All the neighbors looked out for each other and watched to see that the kids weren't getting into too much trouble. Of course the kids were trying to make sure the neighbors didn't see them smoking or drinking Ripple or beer or doing a little smooching. The candy stores were a great place to hang out and when you got older the bars supplanted them. His were the Oasis and The Villa. The Oasis was only for drinking while the Villa was for eating a pizza AND drinking. He knew every nook and cranny of "The Hill". Yes, he knew everybody and everybody knew him. That is why it was tough to leave such a place. His place he called home. On top of all that he just made contact with one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen. She had given him the cold shoulder and turned her nose up at his every advance. Lately though he was getting through to her. She was laughing at his banter and that was a good sign. She could be the one. But now he was moving which held the thought that he could end up losing the chance to make it with her. So he went with great trepidation to a place on the Island some twenty miles away. Well, the move took place and he got a old Oldsmobile convertible with a rumble seat so he made a lot of visits back to "The Hill". He found out the usual time she took the subway to work and just managed to meet her a number of times. She was becoming friendlier and laughing more at his jokes. Things were working out pretty good with her, so good that they started dating. The dating period was a little bumpy and sometimes she didn't laugh at all his jokes, but be that as it may, they eventually agreed that it was better to stay together than be apart. He pushed his draft number up with the idea that he would serve his two year term then they would get married after a year or two. Soon after his entering the service it became apparent they couldn't really stand being apart so they married believing very strongly in the word, "Until Death Do Us Part".
They left "The Hill" and started on with their new lives for they were no longer one but two in one union, sort of like The Trinity but only two instead of three persons. While he was still in his thirties he drove back to his beloved "Hill". He walked around taking note that he was a stranger in his home town. Things changed, even his beloved schoolyard, they built a wing on the school and there was little left of the yard that was like a bio system all its own. As he drove to go back to his new home he felt a certain sadness as though a part of him was left behind in the days of youth and fun and new love. He realized that everything changes constantly because without change there can be no growth. After all, he changed too. He no longer hit the bars. He no longer played ball. He finally had to go to College, all the way to post graduate school. The girl, his wife changed also but she never stopped laughing while she grew into a beautiful woman inside and out. They still argued a bit, made love a lot and kept loving which they hoped would be through all eternity.
"The Hill" was practically all he knew. He was five when he moved there and that meant fifteen of his twenty years he was at home on "The Hill". He lived around the corner from the elementary school which had a big schoolyard. He went to that school for eight years the way God meant it to be with grades numbered from one to eight split in six month frames, A and B. The schoolyard was the center of social activity growing up. It goes without saying that during school days the yard was full since every one had to line up before going into class. During these times there were about three hundred kids playing in the yard which had a full court basketball court, two softball fields on concrete, numerous handball courts and a made up Chinese handball set up which ended up with the loser having to go asses up as the participants threw the spaulding at the target which of course was, what else (?), somebody's ass.
After school and days with no school everybody would go back to the school yard where they'd play ball, fast pitch, stick ball, basketball, hand ball and in the corner guys would shoot craps. The cops would raid the game once in a while. They kept the pot and if they caught any one they'd bring them home where Mom would make them regret being caught but they'd be back the next day making sure they would run faster the next time. Everybody knew everybody. There was a fight every day but the next day the winners and losers would be pals again, until the next fight. There was a pecking order in the school yard that no one challenged. The older guys had dibs on the ball fields and if they came while the younger guys were playing they'd kick you off the field and maybe use your glove, which you were proud to give for the game. The games were good and hard fought with the winner s keeping the clincher which was chipped in and bought new for the game. The bats were wood, if broke they were nailed and taped as who could afford to buy bats each day at the cost of three or four bucks each. The softballs would be taped as they lost their cover. In the winter roller hockey was played with great gusto and verve. Guys like Moose were usually on the winning side.
Even outside the schoolyard everybody knew everybody else. All the neighbors looked out for each other and watched to see that the kids weren't getting into too much trouble. Of course the kids were trying to make sure the neighbors didn't see them smoking or drinking Ripple or beer or doing a little smooching. The candy stores were a great place to hang out and when you got older the bars supplanted them. His were the Oasis and The Villa. The Oasis was only for drinking while the Villa was for eating a pizza AND drinking. He knew every nook and cranny of "The Hill". Yes, he knew everybody and everybody knew him. That is why it was tough to leave such a place. His place he called home. On top of all that he just made contact with one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen. She had given him the cold shoulder and turned her nose up at his every advance. Lately though he was getting through to her. She was laughing at his banter and that was a good sign. She could be the one. But now he was moving which held the thought that he could end up losing the chance to make it with her. So he went with great trepidation to a place on the Island some twenty miles away. Well, the move took place and he got a old Oldsmobile convertible with a rumble seat so he made a lot of visits back to "The Hill". He found out the usual time she took the subway to work and just managed to meet her a number of times. She was becoming friendlier and laughing more at his jokes. Things were working out pretty good with her, so good that they started dating. The dating period was a little bumpy and sometimes she didn't laugh at all his jokes, but be that as it may, they eventually agreed that it was better to stay together than be apart. He pushed his draft number up with the idea that he would serve his two year term then they would get married after a year or two. Soon after his entering the service it became apparent they couldn't really stand being apart so they married believing very strongly in the word, "Until Death Do Us Part".
They left "The Hill" and started on with their new lives for they were no longer one but two in one union, sort of like The Trinity but only two instead of three persons. While he was still in his thirties he drove back to his beloved "Hill". He walked around taking note that he was a stranger in his home town. Things changed, even his beloved schoolyard, they built a wing on the school and there was little left of the yard that was like a bio system all its own. As he drove to go back to his new home he felt a certain sadness as though a part of him was left behind in the days of youth and fun and new love. He realized that everything changes constantly because without change there can be no growth. After all, he changed too. He no longer hit the bars. He no longer played ball. He finally had to go to College, all the way to post graduate school. The girl, his wife changed also but she never stopped laughing while she grew into a beautiful woman inside and out. They still argued a bit, made love a lot and kept loving which they hoped would be through all eternity.
Friday, July 22, 2011
7/27/57
Fifty-four years ago nothing happened that was earth shattering. Two young people were going to take the "plunge". They were getting married. Yes it is true that this step certainly was going to change their lives in ways so major that they couldn't really envision exactly how, but this certainly wouldn't have an effect on the history of mankind. The bridegroom left his house in an air-conditioned limo. Wow, it was the first time they, he and his brother, the best man ever experienced this! They were, dressed in day-time formal wear, white jacket tux. About four blocks from their house he half kidding asked if his brother had the ring, "Of course!" he answered as he fumbled through his pockets and then said that they would have to go back because apparently he left the ring at home. They got the ring and arrived at the church which was in their old neighborhood, about a half hour before the ceremonies were to start, a morning Nuptial Mass. They entered the church and went to the front to await his young beautiful bride. He knew she was nervous not only because it was her wedding day but they were to live in Georgia for the last year of his Army hitch. She would be away from everything she knew to spend time with a guy who was no more than a mere boy, who she really didn't know, in a strange environment, one she could barely imagine what it really could be like.
Before he went into the Army he lived at home and bitched and moaned whenever he had to turn his paycheck over to his Mom and she would dole out his allowance from it. The girl he was marrying came from a financially strapped family. They never would have been able to afford a full blown reception, and of course every girl dreams of that. His mom surprised them by announcing the money she took from him was saved and would be used to have a reception at the Riviera a fancy, schmancy Bistro in Port Washington. After the Nuptials the wedding party would go to the Riviera to have breakfast. The reception for about 85 would begin at one in the afternoon until five. His bride to be was ecstatic and he grew to appreciate his mom a little bit more. It appeared that she was going to be late which worried his best man but he knew the family she was coming from and would have been disappointed if she would have been on time. They got word she finally arrived only fifteen minutes late. There was a buzz in the church. She appeared at the back and was gorgeous. He found himself becoming impatient for the day to be over with them in Miami on their honeymoon. The organ started and she was walking towards him with her father alongside. They reached the front where he was waiting. They stopped and looked at each other and her father froze forgetting what to do. She whispered for him to lift the veil, kiss her and turn her over to her husband to be. He did all this but then she found she couldn't move as he was standing on her dress making her immobile. This was too much for the groom as he burst into laughter and he took control making it easy for his soon-to-be father-in-law to go to his pew and sit. The ceremony went well. Two kid cousins were alter boys and the priest was a favorite of the groom's. He was a retired Army Chaplin who used to understand everything in the confessional without breathing brimstone and fire. Almost everyone in the wedding party forgot the rehearsal and the groom directed all when to stand, sit. He had a great time during the mass. The ending kiss was delicious but the bride made sure it didn't appear too salacious. They marched to the rear of the church where they received the attendees. A cousin of the groom waited to talk to them. Her father, his uncle was dying of lung cancer. His uncle was a favorite of his since childhood. He would have held a quiet wedding if he had known how much his uncle deteriorated since his last leave but by the time he came home it was too late to cancel everything. He also knew his girl would have been very disappointed but would have gone along with the decision. This day was a growing experience for him. Here he was floating on a cloud, his girl was now his wife yet at the same time he felt sorrow for the pain and suffering his uncle, aunt and cousin were going through. This duel feeling of joy and sorrow would be something he would carry with him all through his life whenever he would think about their wedding day. Everyone had left. The bridal party got into the air conditioned limo and proceeded to the Riviera for what would be a great breakfast, then a wedding reception on Manhasset Bay. The roof would be open in the Bistro and the boats would be sailing. This would be a day to remember
The breakfast was held in a room overlooking the Bay. When it was over there was a short wait and everyone was seated. The band was playing. Unbeknownst to the groom they had brought his trumpet to the festivities and since this was the group he gigged with in civilian life it became no problem for him to sit in on a few sets, which he did. The afternoon was a whirlwind. The meal was delicious prime ribs with an open bar.
In those days there was very little concern about designated drivers and everyone ate and drank to their fill.
They went to every table to share their joy and of course to accept "El boost", the Italian equivalent of the payoff, a cash gift for the young couple to help them start their way into married life. The photographer was very good but a royal pain in the a**. He finally was sent on his way by the groom after he took hundreds of pictures. Aunts, Uncles some friends everyone loved the new bride. They continued to love her for the most part into old age. Finally, about 4 PM it was time for the wedding couple to leave, change and get ready to go to the airport and start their honeymoon. There was an hour to go before the festivities would be over for all. On the way out cousin Sam, caught them as they reached the door. Sam was nut, but a lovable one especially when he was young before old age destroyed any sensibilities he had. He wanted to tell them he truly wished them all the best and that she was truly the nicest and most beautiful women he ever saw. The groom knew Sam's eye for the ladies so he wished him well, thanked him and they left. They were alone in his mother and father's home changing from their formal wear into their travelling clothes. She was in his parents bedroom when he came up behind he and put his hands around her waist, she turned and faced him and they kissed for a delicious moment for the first time today they were alone and she could be as salacious as she wanted. Her lips tasted sweeter than wine and as they embraced they heard the front door opening so they broke apart quickly and shouted that they'd soon be down to be driven to the airport.
The day was a magical one that they didn't want to end but as magical days have a way of doing it stared to end very quickly. The plane was filled, every seat taken. His seat was broken and wouldn't release back which caused his back to hurt and go out slightly. There were children aboard who just wouldn't shut up which added a headache to his bad back. He thought to himself, "No more than two kids for me! If any!"
As I started to tell you, this wasn't any earth shattering event, people get married every day. But who knows what course the world would have taken if they never got married. They had seven children (married 7/27/57 an omen of some kind?). They have ten grandchildren and so far one great-grandchild, all waiting to make their mark on this crusty old earth of ours and who knows just how big that mark might be. Most of the attendees have gone on to their greater glory and are remembered for being the great genetic contributors to who he is and his progeny are. A few are still here waiting for their journey to come to a glorious end. As he looks back he remembers them lovingly from his uncle who gave him quarters whenever he visited when he was a kid to his parents, a father who never judged and a mother who didn't have to tell him why she wanted to have him do what she wanted, just do it and some good will come out of it. AND of course the biggest lesson he learned from that day, it was possible to have great joy and sorrow all at the same time. He made a promise that he would tell his uncle who died a few weeks after his wedding that he was missed but everyone had a great time. He was pretty sure his uncle would say something like, "No s**t, that's great!".
Before he went into the Army he lived at home and bitched and moaned whenever he had to turn his paycheck over to his Mom and she would dole out his allowance from it. The girl he was marrying came from a financially strapped family. They never would have been able to afford a full blown reception, and of course every girl dreams of that. His mom surprised them by announcing the money she took from him was saved and would be used to have a reception at the Riviera a fancy, schmancy Bistro in Port Washington. After the Nuptials the wedding party would go to the Riviera to have breakfast. The reception for about 85 would begin at one in the afternoon until five. His bride to be was ecstatic and he grew to appreciate his mom a little bit more. It appeared that she was going to be late which worried his best man but he knew the family she was coming from and would have been disappointed if she would have been on time. They got word she finally arrived only fifteen minutes late. There was a buzz in the church. She appeared at the back and was gorgeous. He found himself becoming impatient for the day to be over with them in Miami on their honeymoon. The organ started and she was walking towards him with her father alongside. They reached the front where he was waiting. They stopped and looked at each other and her father froze forgetting what to do. She whispered for him to lift the veil, kiss her and turn her over to her husband to be. He did all this but then she found she couldn't move as he was standing on her dress making her immobile. This was too much for the groom as he burst into laughter and he took control making it easy for his soon-to-be father-in-law to go to his pew and sit. The ceremony went well. Two kid cousins were alter boys and the priest was a favorite of the groom's. He was a retired Army Chaplin who used to understand everything in the confessional without breathing brimstone and fire. Almost everyone in the wedding party forgot the rehearsal and the groom directed all when to stand, sit. He had a great time during the mass. The ending kiss was delicious but the bride made sure it didn't appear too salacious. They marched to the rear of the church where they received the attendees. A cousin of the groom waited to talk to them. Her father, his uncle was dying of lung cancer. His uncle was a favorite of his since childhood. He would have held a quiet wedding if he had known how much his uncle deteriorated since his last leave but by the time he came home it was too late to cancel everything. He also knew his girl would have been very disappointed but would have gone along with the decision. This day was a growing experience for him. Here he was floating on a cloud, his girl was now his wife yet at the same time he felt sorrow for the pain and suffering his uncle, aunt and cousin were going through. This duel feeling of joy and sorrow would be something he would carry with him all through his life whenever he would think about their wedding day. Everyone had left. The bridal party got into the air conditioned limo and proceeded to the Riviera for what would be a great breakfast, then a wedding reception on Manhasset Bay. The roof would be open in the Bistro and the boats would be sailing. This would be a day to remember
The breakfast was held in a room overlooking the Bay. When it was over there was a short wait and everyone was seated. The band was playing. Unbeknownst to the groom they had brought his trumpet to the festivities and since this was the group he gigged with in civilian life it became no problem for him to sit in on a few sets, which he did. The afternoon was a whirlwind. The meal was delicious prime ribs with an open bar.
In those days there was very little concern about designated drivers and everyone ate and drank to their fill.
They went to every table to share their joy and of course to accept "El boost", the Italian equivalent of the payoff, a cash gift for the young couple to help them start their way into married life. The photographer was very good but a royal pain in the a**. He finally was sent on his way by the groom after he took hundreds of pictures. Aunts, Uncles some friends everyone loved the new bride. They continued to love her for the most part into old age. Finally, about 4 PM it was time for the wedding couple to leave, change and get ready to go to the airport and start their honeymoon. There was an hour to go before the festivities would be over for all. On the way out cousin Sam, caught them as they reached the door. Sam was nut, but a lovable one especially when he was young before old age destroyed any sensibilities he had. He wanted to tell them he truly wished them all the best and that she was truly the nicest and most beautiful women he ever saw. The groom knew Sam's eye for the ladies so he wished him well, thanked him and they left. They were alone in his mother and father's home changing from their formal wear into their travelling clothes. She was in his parents bedroom when he came up behind he and put his hands around her waist, she turned and faced him and they kissed for a delicious moment for the first time today they were alone and she could be as salacious as she wanted. Her lips tasted sweeter than wine and as they embraced they heard the front door opening so they broke apart quickly and shouted that they'd soon be down to be driven to the airport.
The day was a magical one that they didn't want to end but as magical days have a way of doing it stared to end very quickly. The plane was filled, every seat taken. His seat was broken and wouldn't release back which caused his back to hurt and go out slightly. There were children aboard who just wouldn't shut up which added a headache to his bad back. He thought to himself, "No more than two kids for me! If any!"
As I started to tell you, this wasn't any earth shattering event, people get married every day. But who knows what course the world would have taken if they never got married. They had seven children (married 7/27/57 an omen of some kind?). They have ten grandchildren and so far one great-grandchild, all waiting to make their mark on this crusty old earth of ours and who knows just how big that mark might be. Most of the attendees have gone on to their greater glory and are remembered for being the great genetic contributors to who he is and his progeny are. A few are still here waiting for their journey to come to a glorious end. As he looks back he remembers them lovingly from his uncle who gave him quarters whenever he visited when he was a kid to his parents, a father who never judged and a mother who didn't have to tell him why she wanted to have him do what she wanted, just do it and some good will come out of it. AND of course the biggest lesson he learned from that day, it was possible to have great joy and sorrow all at the same time. He made a promise that he would tell his uncle who died a few weeks after his wedding that he was missed but everyone had a great time. He was pretty sure his uncle would say something like, "No s**t, that's great!".
Monday, July 18, 2011
Like Father Like Son
The other day I received the following E-Mail from my son:
"August 28, I played a Festival called "The Howl Festival" in alphabet
City. I was told I couldn't bring any musicians cause they didn't
have a PA. When I got there, it was a street fair with what had to be
a thousand people there. That is all I could estimate as far as my
eyes could see. I am sure there were way more people milling around
on a hot city day. I was briefly teaching Blues Harp at Tribal
Sounds, a "World Music" store. They sold instruments, lessons on
instruments from all around the world, international music and bad
attitude. (The bad attitude was free).
When I got to the stage a New Orleans type band, with Trumpets and
Trombones and huge masks absolutely killed the crowd. They were
amazing. The stage tech tells me, "You're next!" I looked at her and
said, "Are you crazy?" At that moment my stomach dropped and many of
these people were saying things at the end of that performance like,
"These Guys Are F#@%ING GREAT!" I said, "GOD! PLEASE? HELP
ME!!!!!!!!"
As I got up on the stage with my Harp and nothing else, I said, "Good
Afternoon!" As I went to draw the first note, as if scripted, a
thunder clap burst and rain fell instantly! They rushed me off the
stage. After 15 minutes I was back on the stage. The crowd had
dwindled to maybe 70 to 100 people, but down the street or to the
right or the left.
I had to fill 20 to 25 minutes. I agreed to this but needed to draw
on some inspiration. I started jamming to an Allman Brother's guitar riff from a famous album of
theirs. I'm pretty sure the remaining people liked it. What started out as a disaster didn't end up so bad.
By the way, your old song "Pete The Parakeet" found it's way into my jamming. I guess Pete still lives."
The experience stands as an interesting experience by its self but when you consider something like that happened to me some 50 years ago it becomes a truly amazing story on many levels.
The New York Times ran a blurb that ASCAP was holding a seminar with performances of new compositions being performed as the ending to the week-long process. Submissions for consideration were being solicited. About 20 minutes were allocated for each accepted submission. Since I was pretty brash at the time and I had a few songs already published, I took my unpublished material, if I remember correctly about ten numbers, and submitted them never really expecting to be accepted. But Lo and behold! My stuff was accepted. I called the number to get the details and found out the performance would take place at the hall around the block from Carnegie Hall, Steinway Hall(?), I don't remember. I asked if there were any rules to follow and what was needed by the performers. They told me just show up and be prepared to be the last act on the program. I was advised that nothing special was expected. I contacted my co-author and instructor and convinced them that it was nothing special but perhaps we could get a music publisher interested in our works. So on a rainy Friday night we showed up. I would introduce the piano player and singer and get off the stage and they would do the songs.
For about an hour and a half we stood at the back of the theater and watched one production number after another with seemingly a cast of thousands put on what seemed to be Broadway Musicals. They were all very good and had great production values which caused me much consternation since all we had was a piano player and a singer who wasn't all that great. As it became closer to the time we were to go on I became fearful that we were going to embarrass ourselves. I almost became frozen with fear. The piano player and singer had less fear but they told me that they were counting on me to introduce them as a fitting ending act. With all this putting the fear of God within me I did what I always do when I don't know what the hell to do. I cleared my mind of all thoughts as to what I was going to say in the introduction and prayed for the Holy Spirit to guide me so I didn't make a fool of myself and my compatriots. The scenery was being cleared and it became time for us to appear. The emcee introduced us as the closing act reminding the audience they would have a chance to talk to the composers and performers at the conclusion of the program And so we entered the wings in darkness and I walked out alone into the spotlight in front of about five hundred ASCAP music publishers and guests without a thought in my head as to what I was going to say. I took a deep breath and reminded the Holy Spirit I was counting on Him and what followed was something like this:
"We have been entertained by some excellent performers tonight who wanted to present their works in the most perfect light possible. But I want to take you to a calmer time. A time past, but a time we all miss. So I ask you to take a step back in time when new songs were presented in an office that had a piano and the composer would play while a singer would serenade. So please keep your eyes closed and remember while we present our works for you consideration."
The piano player took my cue and he came out with a cigar in his mouth and shirtsleeves rolled up. He played, the singer sang and when it was over a standing ovation. We didn't embarrass ourselves. For the night the introduction inspired by the Holy Spirit saved us. Afterwards the three of us talked with many publishers who liked our works but they felt the time was more for Rock and Roll so nothing but a great experience which I shall never forget, happened.
It would be nice to say the result of these stories were a career as a songwriter for me and a musician for my son, which could still happen, but as of now hasn't! How much more nicer is it to say that two guys, four counting my singer and piano player, were saved from embarrassment because the good Lord decided to listen to their prayers even though the situation was not earth shattering or life changing. How much nicer to remember the times we were helped and not forgotten by a greater power who I am sure had more important things to do on those days some fifty years apart.
"August 28, I played a Festival called "The Howl Festival" in alphabet
City. I was told I couldn't bring any musicians cause they didn't
have a PA. When I got there, it was a street fair with what had to be
a thousand people there. That is all I could estimate as far as my
eyes could see. I am sure there were way more people milling around
on a hot city day. I was briefly teaching Blues Harp at Tribal
Sounds, a "World Music" store. They sold instruments, lessons on
instruments from all around the world, international music and bad
attitude. (The bad attitude was free).
When I got to the stage a New Orleans type band, with Trumpets and
Trombones and huge masks absolutely killed the crowd. They were
amazing. The stage tech tells me, "You're next!" I looked at her and
said, "Are you crazy?" At that moment my stomach dropped and many of
these people were saying things at the end of that performance like,
"These Guys Are F#@%ING GREAT!" I said, "GOD! PLEASE? HELP
ME!!!!!!!!"
As I got up on the stage with my Harp and nothing else, I said, "Good
Afternoon!" As I went to draw the first note, as if scripted, a
thunder clap burst and rain fell instantly! They rushed me off the
stage. After 15 minutes I was back on the stage. The crowd had
dwindled to maybe 70 to 100 people, but down the street or to the
right or the left.
I had to fill 20 to 25 minutes. I agreed to this but needed to draw
on some inspiration. I started jamming to an Allman Brother's guitar riff from a famous album of
theirs. I'm pretty sure the remaining people liked it. What started out as a disaster didn't end up so bad.
By the way, your old song "Pete The Parakeet" found it's way into my jamming. I guess Pete still lives."
The experience stands as an interesting experience by its self but when you consider something like that happened to me some 50 years ago it becomes a truly amazing story on many levels.
The New York Times ran a blurb that ASCAP was holding a seminar with performances of new compositions being performed as the ending to the week-long process. Submissions for consideration were being solicited. About 20 minutes were allocated for each accepted submission. Since I was pretty brash at the time and I had a few songs already published, I took my unpublished material, if I remember correctly about ten numbers, and submitted them never really expecting to be accepted. But Lo and behold! My stuff was accepted. I called the number to get the details and found out the performance would take place at the hall around the block from Carnegie Hall, Steinway Hall(?), I don't remember. I asked if there were any rules to follow and what was needed by the performers. They told me just show up and be prepared to be the last act on the program. I was advised that nothing special was expected. I contacted my co-author and instructor and convinced them that it was nothing special but perhaps we could get a music publisher interested in our works. So on a rainy Friday night we showed up. I would introduce the piano player and singer and get off the stage and they would do the songs.
For about an hour and a half we stood at the back of the theater and watched one production number after another with seemingly a cast of thousands put on what seemed to be Broadway Musicals. They were all very good and had great production values which caused me much consternation since all we had was a piano player and a singer who wasn't all that great. As it became closer to the time we were to go on I became fearful that we were going to embarrass ourselves. I almost became frozen with fear. The piano player and singer had less fear but they told me that they were counting on me to introduce them as a fitting ending act. With all this putting the fear of God within me I did what I always do when I don't know what the hell to do. I cleared my mind of all thoughts as to what I was going to say in the introduction and prayed for the Holy Spirit to guide me so I didn't make a fool of myself and my compatriots. The scenery was being cleared and it became time for us to appear. The emcee introduced us as the closing act reminding the audience they would have a chance to talk to the composers and performers at the conclusion of the program And so we entered the wings in darkness and I walked out alone into the spotlight in front of about five hundred ASCAP music publishers and guests without a thought in my head as to what I was going to say. I took a deep breath and reminded the Holy Spirit I was counting on Him and what followed was something like this:
"We have been entertained by some excellent performers tonight who wanted to present their works in the most perfect light possible. But I want to take you to a calmer time. A time past, but a time we all miss. So I ask you to take a step back in time when new songs were presented in an office that had a piano and the composer would play while a singer would serenade. So please keep your eyes closed and remember while we present our works for you consideration."
The piano player took my cue and he came out with a cigar in his mouth and shirtsleeves rolled up. He played, the singer sang and when it was over a standing ovation. We didn't embarrass ourselves. For the night the introduction inspired by the Holy Spirit saved us. Afterwards the three of us talked with many publishers who liked our works but they felt the time was more for Rock and Roll so nothing but a great experience which I shall never forget, happened.
It would be nice to say the result of these stories were a career as a songwriter for me and a musician for my son, which could still happen, but as of now hasn't! How much more nicer is it to say that two guys, four counting my singer and piano player, were saved from embarrassment because the good Lord decided to listen to their prayers even though the situation was not earth shattering or life changing. How much nicer to remember the times we were helped and not forgotten by a greater power who I am sure had more important things to do on those days some fifty years apart.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)