Cancun

“The little cockroach, the little cockroach,

I saw him just the other day 

I like him best when, he takes his things and 

He gets his friends and moves away.”
La Cucaracha

Our week in Cancun with Jim and Kate Migoski on the Mayan Riviera was fabulous. We stayed at a five-star hotel complex, La Gran Bahia Principe (our villa was at the Coba but we were able to use the facilities at the other two hotels, Akamal and Tulum). The all expenses paid Apple Vacations package included food and drinks, and we had plenty of both, beginning with mimosa at breakfast and ending with a bailey’s Irish Cream nightcap. In addition to the regular buffets we went to a special barbeque and three luxury restaurants, Brazilian, seafood, and Mexican, the latter serving mango daiquiris and featuring a mariachi band whose repertoire included “La Cacaracha.” We frequently encountered iguanas sunning themselves on the sidewalks. Between meals we went to the beach or a pool (our favorite contained three unheated whirlpools that were a perfect temperature by midday), played cards (Quiddler and Uno mainly), and read (the hotel furnished a 12-page USA News and I finished Sue Miller’s 468-page novel “The Good Mother”). Nightly entertainment included a circus act, a Broadway review, Latin night, and a Lip Sync special with fantastic dancers backing up Madonna, Cher, Michael Jackson, Queen, Justin Bieber, and the Black-Eyed Peas. Most shows started with a contest featuring volunteers from the audience. Probably half the guests were Canadians happy to be in a tropical climate where the temperature reached the mid-80s. We went to a special fiesta featuring traditional Mexican dances. A photographer dressed us up in ponchos and sombreros, stood us next to a live donkey, and gave us a guitar and a rifle to pose with - unnecessary stereotypes, Toni thought – but we purchased a picture without frame for $13. Inside was a mechanical bull that I declined to ride, waiters offering free shots of tequila, and games such as Pin the Tail on the Donkey.

Over 3,000 employees, most of Mayan ancestry, work at La Gran Bahia Principe. Melchor Loria, who had been so helpful the year before, was now a manager and greeted us as a long lost friend. He arranged an earlier time for us (seven rather than 9:30) at the Brazilian restaurant. His girlfriend Josie was also a big help getting our airport transportation confirmed. Airport security bordered on the ridiculous. At O’Hare a rude TSA agent patted me down after my artificial knee set off the alarm, exclaiming “Jesus Christ” because I hadn’t put my wallet and glasses case through the security scanner. Arriving in Cancun, we went through two lines, first to hand in a Declaration form and then to go through customs. Leaving Cancun, we not only went through a full screening but at the gate agents looked through our carry-on luggage and again patted us down. Our flight to Chicago was delayed 90 minutes, supposedly because the plane was late arriving due to de-icing problems at O’Hare. I joked with a guy in a Chicago Bears jersey about making it home in time for the NFC championship game the next day against the Packers (I had watched the Bears victory over Seattle on a station where the announcers spoke Spanish). Lo and behold, he and his wife sat down in row six next to Toni (seating for couples were either window-middle or aisle-aisle, the latter being our preference). It was freezing cold in Chicago, but driver Mike picked us up within minutes with a white stretch limo. We actually prefer a town car, but the limo was stocked with beer. Unlike previous returns to Maple Place when we found the road treacherous, the electricity out or the furnace not working, our condo was warm and cozy. Good to be home. A week was just the right getaway time.

Learned that Dave’s gig at Clancy’s bar the night before was a success, with many friends in attendance. Phil went to a Harlem Globetrotters game with Anthony and Delia. I placed calls to Suzanna and to Gaard (back from Florida), as well as nephews Bob and Joe (while listening to the Flotsam and Jetsam CD he gave me). In Sunday gaming I eked out a win in Acquire and more than doubled everyone else’s score in Dominion, opting for a simple but effective game plan. Dave’s new medicine may leave one susceptible to leg cramps called a Charley Horse. In fact, he got one last night. Vic used to get them often; they are painful, and when I get one I think of the old man. The Hagelbergs had us over for a ham dinner (served at halftime of the Bears disappointing loss to Green Bay) and bridge. Dick recently broke a leg cross-country skiing at the National Lakeshore. Rather than call for help on his cell phone he trekked a mile to his car, using the skis as crutches. In the Sunday P-T Jeff Manes led off his column on woodcarver Sidney Spoor with these lyrics from an obscure song by Vic McAlphin: “Spittin’, whittlin’, telling lies/ Drinkin’ an R.C. and eatin’ Moon Pies/ Singin’ ‘Mabel on the Hill’.” I don’t know where he gets them. Spoor, who retired from LTV Steel ten years ago at age 56, told Jeff: “I’ve seen too many guys work until they’re 65, then drop dead within the first year of retirement.”

Jerry Davich’s Monday’s P-T story, headlined: “Wanted: Gay, lesbian, bisexual steelworkers,” has a great photo of colleague Anne Balay, who discussed her oral history project “Steel Closets.” She mentioned having interviewed 45 steelworkers but that only 17 signed her consent form. Davich wrote: “Balay got the controversial yet fascinating idea from Jim Lane, the longtime historian at IUN, who simply asked her about the issue. She ran with it.” Anne believes it’s a little easier for women steelworkers because male co-workers already assume you’re a lesbian even if you are not and are more comfortable around them than gay men. Anne sent the article to friends, saying, “Check This Out!” The Internet posting didn’t include her photo though.

Steve McShane asked me to talk to his class Thursday about his assignment of keeping journals in March. I’ll suggest emphasizing a theme, such as interpersonal relationships, work, school, hobbies, passions, and the like. Steve also wants me to help compose a letter of recommendation endorsing civil rights pioneer A.B. Whitlock’s nomination to the Steel City Hall of Fame. In 1921 Whitlock became the first African American to serve on the Gary City Council. He fought against segregationist efforts to prevent blacks from attending Emerson School. Among his business interests was ownership of the Gary American, a weekly newspaper that he put out. Whitlock is a deserving inductee, and I’ll be glad to do it. Maybe someone will nominate me one day. At the Gary library are plaques honoring all the inductees, ministers, politicians, and sports stars aplenty but nary a historian. In our letter, which Steve composed, we wrote: “His eloquent speeches during the Emerson School strike of 1927 instilled pride and strength in the African-American community during that difficult racial conflict. Here is an excerpt from Councilman Whitlock during a city council meeting as Gary leaders debated a resolution to build a school at 25th and Georgia, then a desolate, swampy vacant area, for Gary’s black students: ‘If the City Council passes this ordinance, it’s sowing a bad seed. Think of tomorrow when a more dangerous situation probably will arise. We probably won’t be around here when the trouble starts, buy mind my word, its coming. I couldn’t think of supporting this ordinance and be loyal to my people and their interests.’ Mr. Whitlock’s actions were not limited to politics. He also became very active in Gary civic affairs, as a founder of the Calumet Chapter of the Indiana Civil Liberties Union. Indeed, the Chapter recognized him by establishing the A.B. Whitlock Award for outstanding contributions to civil rights and civil liberties, presented at the Chapter’s annual meeting.”

Ray Boomhower has a splendid article about former Congressman Jim Jontz in the current issue of TRACES. Jontz first won office in 1974 at age 22, defeating Jack Guy, who had been House majority leader, by a scant two votes. During the 1970s Bailly Alliance fight to stop construction of a nuclear plant of the shore of Lake Michigan, then state legislator Jontz was a staunch ally and kindred spirit. Though representing a Republican district, his hard work on behalf of farmers, laborers, women’s, and environmental issues made him, in Boomhower’s words, “the people’s choice.” He was truly an honorable public servant. When criticized for calling Eugene Debs his hero, Jontz replied that the Socialist leader championed women’s suffrage and the eight-hour day. An indefatigable campaigner, Jontz once rode his sister’s rusty Schwinn bicycle with mismatched tires in seven Fourth of July parades in a single day. In 1986 he defeated reactionary state legislator Jim Butcher to represent Indiana’s Fifth Congressional District. He served three terms before losing to jerk-off Steve Buyer. Jontz looked a little like Huey Long and was a populist without the Louisiana demagogue’s dark side. He ran against Senator Richard Lugar in 1994, a hopeless cause but one that allowed him to discuss issues of interest to him plus enjoy the whirligig of campaigning one final time. After he died of colon cancer in 2007, Lugar noted that “he provided great inspiration, launched the careers of many outstanding individuals and made a profound impact in each of his endeavors.” In 1995 he was arrested during a protest against timber cutting in Oregon’s Siskiyou National Forest. When his parents, crusty Hoosiers, took umbrage, he told them that at least he was wearing a coat and tie. Siskiyou is near Ashland, Oregon, where old acquaintance Jim Quinby and his band Smoky Red often play at the Wild Goose. Until recently I had never heard of Siskiyou National Forest. Now I’ll probably hear about it all the time.

A 79 year-old associate faculty was talking at my cafeteria lunch table with two young women who appeared very interested in meeting his wife and going to a restaurant with them. Could that be me in ten years? Sometimes I regret that I didn’t open myself up more with students – although I am friends with quite a few.

I received a long note on Facebook from Ann Bottorff, Dean’s daughter, who would visit summers when Dean and Joanell lived next to us on Maple Place. She and brother Richard were Phil and Dave’s age and would play together. We exchanged Christmas cards with her until a couple years ago. I commented on her reference to music and she replied: “I'm glad to hear you like 'The National', I think that “Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers” is a great album. Although, it's probably best not to listen to that album too many times in a row - a little depressing. I've (actually Chad did) discovered a new group called 'Loch Lomond' - I think they are out of Portland and are a bit folksy (and probably not that new) they've got quite a few songs on YouTube (“Wax and Wire” being among my favorite).”