The American

At the Patio Trish and Ray Arredondo filled me in on their marketing plans for “Maria’s Journey.” Lotte Meyerson, who moved from Miller to Asheville, North Carolina, some years ago after a long career as a community organizer, is setting up numerous appearances. Sandy Appleby, whose “Pass the Culture, Please” project was an inspiration for the book, has made a DVD based on the original slide show. Roy’s brother, Judge Lorenzo Arredondo, was sitting at another table showing off the book to lunch companions. So far the family loved it. Had delicious crab cakes and salad, and we toasted the book’s successful publication with merlot. I told them I’m working on an article for Oprah’s magazine “O.” Noticed that Barnes and Noble had a dozen copies of “Maria’s Journey” in the “Local Interest” section.

Picked up two copies of the Arcade Fire CD “The Suburbs.” One is for Mary Ann Brush in lieu of a dish for her end-of-summer party. I’m a product of suburbia although the street where I grew up wasn’t part of a development like when we lived in Beverly Hills, Michigan, for a year. There’s an Arcade Fire line that goes, “In the suburbs I learned to drive.” I was able to get a learners permit at age 14 and test my dad’s patience driving through our Michigan subdivision.

George Clooney was terrific in “The American” as an assassin hoping to retire after one final assignment. Slow-moving, brooding, and without the car chases and special effects bullshit that characterize most Hollywood products today, it was directed by Anton Corbijn, best known for directed music videos for Depeche Mode, Nirvana, and U2. Critics have mentioned its pensive, low-key foreign film feel to it, including the full frontal nudity (Violante Placido as a prostitute with a heart of gold is stunning) and symbolism in the form of an endangered butterfly. Clooney is about the only American in the movie. There is nothing cute about Clooney’s portrayal of Jack, but I was still rooting for him till the very end.

I’ve been emailing back and forth with Judy Jenkins, my first girlfriend, about beautiful Alice Ottinger (Ockie), her best friend in high school, whose father was Fort Washington’s police chief. He once found Toni and me parked in the Van Sant farm driveway. Alice is evidently coming to the reunion (her first), but Judy doesn’t think she’ll make it. She doesn’t like to fly and worries that she won’t know anybody (there an Arcade Fire line, “All my old friends, they don’t know me now”). On summer Judy and Ockie returned from a trip having learned about French kissing. Another time Judy kidded Alice about having a dark hair growing on one of her fingers. It’s amazing what irrelevancies one remembers. I took Alice to a dance in eleventh grade, doubling with Dave Seibold. At the 2000 reunion I reminded him that he followed us up onto the Ottinger porch afterwards and wanted a kiss from her, too. It being years later, I was trying to be humorous, but he looked crestfallen and apologized.

Heard from Suzanna for the first time in over a week. Feeling blue and waiting for muggy August to end, she revealed herself to be a Pink Floyd and Moody Blues fan. Told her I used to wear out the album “Dark Side of the Moon” in the Seventies and catch the Moodies whenever they come to Northwest Indiana. Heard Eddie Cochran’s 1958 hit “Summertime Blues” on an Oldies station and turned up the volume. Still know the words by heart, including the cynical response from the Congressman: “I’d like to help you, son, but you’re too young to vote.” Vince Curll and I attended an unforgettable “Cavalcade of Stars” concert in South Philly sponsored by radio station WIBG featuring Eddie and Gene Vincent, two wild and crazy rebels without a cause or a clue (to invoke James Dean and Tom Petty).

At bowling Robbie (Bob Robinson) gave me a copy of IUN’s 2009 annual report that contained an article about my “Retirement Journal” and a photo of volume 40’s cover. Bowled slightly under my average but edged out Clark Metz so didn’t have to pay.

Spotted Anne Balay in the archives looking for books on steelworkers and gave her a big hug. She turned me on to the “Homer’s Phobia” episode of “The Simpsons,” which originally aired in 1997. Mad genius “Hairspray” director John Waters did the voice for gay antiques dealer John, whom Bart takes a shine to. Homer becomes uneasy when Bart starts wearing Hawaiian shirts and dancing in a woman’s wig and takes him to see a steel mill, not realizing the muscled-up workers are all gay and that the factory at night turns into a disco. C+C Music Factory’s song “Gonna Make You Sweat” plays during the closing credits, which include a dedication to American steelworkers reading “Keep reaching for that rainbow.”

Fantasy Football drafts are upon us. I was with Dave at his computer with my rankings cheat sheet in hand. There are eight teams this year (up from six), so the available talent was slightly diminished. Drafting third after Chris Johnson and Adrian Peterson were gobbled up, I took running back Ray Rice even though my sheet recommended Maurice Jones-Drew ahead of him. I also got Charger tailback Ryan Mathews and quarterback Tom Brady with Donovan McNabb as a backup. My top two wide receivers are DeSean Jackson and Marques Colston. Not bad.