Year's End

“The Christmas tree is ready
The candles all aglow
But with my baby far away
What good is mistletoe
Oh oh Santa, hear my plea
Santa bring my baby back to me.”
Elvis Presley

December 23: Christmas songs are dominating the airwaves. My favorites are by girl groups like the Crystals and Ronettes and, of course, Elvis. The tune for “Santa Bring My baby Back to Me” is almost identical to my favorite Presley song, “Wear My Ring Around Your Neck,” but without the classic drum roll at the end. Toni put on two CDs Phil Arnold gave me, the 2003 edition containing “Santa Songs” (the most famous being “I Saw Momma Kissing Santa Claus”) and 2004’s “Christmas Blues.” It snowed, but fewer than three inches, so no plows came to the condo. Shoveling was no problem though, compared to Maple Place. A year ago our driveway was a sheet of ice several inches thick. Cards arrived from old girlfriends Mary Delp Harwood and Suzanna Dienna Murphy. The latter contained a “Child’s Christmas prayer” written when Suzanna was 14. It gives thanks “for the goodness in people” and expresses the hope that “music last forever as thy precious gift – a gem unsurpassed.” I recall Kurt Vonnegut saying something similar in a secular way. Janet Stuart Garmen’s card contained neat reunion photos, including one of me, Nancy Schrope, and Eddie Piszek in deep discussion. Visited my Archives “cage” for the last time until the library re-opens in ten days, then picked up Christmas Eve dinner at Heavenly Ham on Route 30, all pre-cooked and sliced.

December 24: Everyone but Delia was at the condo for Wigilia dinner. Beforehand we decorated the tree and had the march of presents. Beth made delicious cucumber salad, and the ham and trimmings were great. We all took a wafer of the Opatki, and kissed as we traded pieces. Supposedly the Polish custom includes promises to forgive each other’s slights or sins. Played two SOB games before calling it a night.

The year-end Time RIP section contained a striking photo of Lena Horn, the sexiest woman alive when she was entertaining troops during WW II, surpassing even “Red Hot mama” Sophie Tucker. Once she performed for black soldiers and then cancelled the following show because it was a segregated, whites-only audience. On “Sanford and Son” Redd Fox called her simply “The Horn.” Other RIPs included TV personality Art Linkletter (“kids say the darndest things”), writer J.D. Salinger (“The Catcher in the Rye”), actor Dennis Hopper (“Easy Rider”), bandleader Mitch Miller (“sing along with Mitch”), soul singer Solomon Burke (“Everybody Needs Somebody to Love”), pitchers Bob Feller (Indians) and Robin Roberts (Phillies), Secretary of State Alexander Haig, and Cherokee tribal chief Wilma Mankiller. One story contained this famous Virginia Woolf quote: “On or about December 1910, human character changed.” A sage remark. Will the same be said about 2010 a hundred years from now? Columnist Joel Stein mentioned that Masculinity Studies is the in-thing in academia, part of the larger category of race, class, and gender studies. Color me old-fashioned, but I prefer a meaty biography like “Colonel Roosevelt,” which I recently finished. If ever there was an ideal candidate for “masculinity studies” scholars to psychoanalyze, it was TR, whose favorite son died in World War I. Another comported himself so heroically, it was almost as if he wished to die in battle to satisfy his father’s expectations (like Joe Kennedy). A third son suffered grievous wounds, took to drink, and later committed suicide.

Christmas: Present opening began around 8. Among other things I got jars of premium jelly and a CD of Dave singing and playing acoustic guitar. Toni cooked up pierogies from Chicago; the potato and meat ones were more popular than the sauerkraut and the plum ones (that I had requested). Dave’s family brought an endless variety of Wii games, including my favorite, bowling. Ping pong, basketball (shooting three pointers) and sword play were also popular. Toni got Stephen Hawking’s new book, “The Grand Design,” which concludes that the Big Bang did not need a creator to spark the universe’s birth. We posed for group photos that hopefully will be in our next year’s Christmas card. Diamond kept turning his ass toward the camera. Nonetheless, it was great to have him despite all the dog hair he spread. On one walk he and our neighbor’s dog thoroughly sniffed out one another.

On “Broadway Empire” the boss of an over-zealous federal agent says, “You’re a prohibition agent, not Bulldog Drummond.” The first Bulldog Drummond novel appeared in 1920, the year portrayed in the HBO series. Ronald Coleman subsequently played Drummond in the movies. For years a Chicago crime reporter, John Drummond, used the nickname Bulldog. Once he interviewed me at the Archives for a story about Gary.

December 26: Made ample pancake batter for the crew and sliced up kielbasa. Post-Trib did a feature on Sheriff Roy Dominguez looking back on his eight years in office. Reporter Chelsea Schneider Kirk wrote: “His two terms were marked with the purchase of a $2.2 million helicopter, the rebirth of the Lake County Animal Control Center as a no-kill facility, and the settlement of U.S. Department of Justice’s civil rights complaints with the Lake County Jail.” The Times recently ran a cartoon implying that Roy and Hammond mayor Tom McDermott were both happy that Evan Bayh wouldn’t be a gubernatorial candidate in 2012. I’m not so sure. Bayh might have asked Dominguez to be his running mate. Watched the NBC Sunday talking heads (among them Tom Brokaw and Doris Kearns Goodwin) talking about the Tea Party movement and Obama’s success getting things from the lame duck Congress. It won’t be so easy in January when republicans take over the House. Anti-union conservatives blame public employees pension funds for the states’ financial problems; the real villains are corporate CEOs that rake in millions off the backs of the working class. Thanks to On Demand I’m almost caught up on “Broadway Empire” episodes. At the 1920 Republican convention in Chicago, Nucky learns that gangsters shot his brother the sheriff. He persuades strongman Jimmy to return with him and also takes along nominee Warren G. Harding’s mistress Nan Britton and her baby in order to keep her out of the limelight until after the November election. Harding and his evil campaign manager Harry Daugherty are portrayed realistically, as is Jersey City boss Frank Hague. In football the Bears continue to surprise, defeating the Jets 38-34. Had a good gaming day, winning Ingenious and SOB.

December 27: Bought blueberries for those (me included) who like them in their pancakes. James prefers tiny chocolate chips. My nose started running, the first sign a cold was on the way. We had dinner at the Hagelbergs and traded presents. I gave Dick and Cheryl “Steel Giants” by Gary Wilk and Steve McShane. Corey had almost bought it for them. We played bridge afterwards. David and Phil had been out with Robert Blaszkiewicz watching football the day before, and Robert burned CDs of his top 20 favorite songs of 2010 for all three of us. He knows as much about current trends as anyone I knew and since we have similar tastes, I was very excited. I had heard about half of them, including songs by New Pornographers, Spoon, and Arcade Fire, and loved many of the others, especially Titus Andronicus’ “A More Perfect Union” from the New Jersey punk band’s album “The Monitor” (its theme is the Civil War). Amazingly the song begins with someone reading this Abraham Lincoln quote, first delivered to the Young Men’s Lyceum in Springfield Illinois in 1838: “'From whence shall we expect the approach of danger? Shall some transatlantic giant step the earth and crush us at a blow? Never! All the armies of Europe and Asia could not, by force, take a drink from the Ohio River or set a track on the Blue Ridge in the trial of a thousand years. If destruction be our lot, we ourselves must be its author and finisher. As a nation of free men, we will live forever, or die by suicide.” At the end is a recitation of abolitionist William Lloyd Garrison’s famous declaration that he won’t be silenced.

December 28: a ho-hum day of chores, reading, TV watching. One channel looked back 50 years to when JFK was running for president, Fidel Castro was solidifying power, and Negro College students were sitting-in at Southern department store lunch counters. I graduated from high school, dating Suzanna in the summer, caught a horrific case of poison ivy working for a sadistic gardener, and went off to Bucknell, where I roomed with Rich Baker, who went on to marry the sister of our dorm resident, sophisticated Fred Bechtold. He called me Lanezer, and I called him Bakes. We’re still in touch. Re-watched a couple “Curb Your Enthusiasm” episodes where Larry brings home a racist dog and where he questions how a Japanese kamikaze pilot could still be alive. Daughter-in-law Beth and her mom Donna dropped in with Christmas presents Beth had mailed from Portland but were late arriving. I got a handsome long-sleeved t-shirt that says “Portland, Oregon.” Donna admired the quilt in my room downstairs. I pointed out the French erotica that enhanced its estimated value to around $1,400. Thanks to On Demand I sampled the sitcom “Community” that debuted a year ago. The Chevy Chase character, a creepy, seven-times-married, bigot, joins a Spanish-class study group at Greendale Community College. The catchy theme song, “At least It Was Here,” is by The 88, an L.A. group that the Post-Trib’s music critic ranked as one of the best new bands of the year. Am mulling over three New Year’s Eve possibilities, parties at Brushes or Horns as well as game weekend. There’s also a chance we’ll be watching James and Becca. With the temperature in the forties snow has totally disappeared, and with none predicted travel won’t be a problem.

December 29: Winless gaming at Dave’s; after a Burger King stop saw the Coen brothers “True Grit.” The portrayal of the old West much more realistic than in the John Wayne flick of 40 years ago. Matt Damon was a hoot as Texas Ranger LaBoeuf and Jeff Bridges, who played The Dude in the Coen’s “The Big Lebowski,” fit the part of Rooster Cogburn perfectly. The Coens’ retained much of the dialogue from the Charles Portis novel; Rooster’s adversary Ned, for instance, tells him, “I call that bold talk for a one-eyed fat man.” The most amazing performance was by 14 year-old newcomer Hailee Steinfeld, who beat out thousands of others to get the part of a strong-willed girl who wants to revenge her father’s murder. Having time to kill, sneaked into “Little Fockers.” The funniest parts I had already seen in the coming attractions or TV commercials. At Cressmoor Lanes learned that Tommy Pleasant had been released from the hospital a day after his collapse and then died on the way home when his aorta burst. He was 69, my age. Neither his son nor his cute granddaughter were at the alley, no surprise there. I rolled a 499 series, and for the second week in a row the Engineers won all seven points. Talked to Mike Dacey in Hawaii and filled him in on Terry Hunt and other old Porter Acres softball teammates. He expects to retire in a couple years and perhaps relocate to Las Vegas.

December 30: Got my toenails cut at a shop near the condo for ten dollars as opposed to five at Portage’s L.A. Nails. The Asian lady finished in five minutes, but it still is a good deal. It seemed more a family place than L.A. Nails, where the young women looked like they’d fit in at a massage parlor – not that I ever complained. Talked to Bob and Niki; Addison came to the phone and called me Uncle Jimbo. Bob lost to Phil in the Lane FANTASY League finals even though Michael Vick had a mediocre night Monday in a loss to the lowly Vikings. Also wished Clark Metz a Happy Holiday. Channel switching, I came upon Meryl Streep in “Before and After,” about a teenager who runs away after accidentally killing his pregnant girlfriend after she attacked him. The movie was only average, but Streep milks every scene without apparent effort. Playing the teenager was Edward Furlong, who five years earlier (1991) played John Connor in Terminator 2: Judgment Day and three years later was Hawk in my all-time favorite Detroit Rock City.

Spent more time at Halberstadt Game Weekend than usual, Friday until ten, Saturday from one till ten, and Sunday from noon till four. Peak attendance, around three dozen including children, occurred Saturday afternoon. The food was great, with a highlight being Patty and Evan’s well-seasoned pork loin. My contribution was Cole slaw from Jewel. I learned two interesting new games, Ra (different from Amun Re although based in ancient Egypt and invented by Germans) and Lemming Mafia (easy to learn, quick to play and a delight). At one point we were about to start a game when Jef saw that Angie was done playing with the kids. He invited her over, even though he had just finished explaining the rules. As he often says, the main point is to interest people in learning new games. The two games I won were Wits and Wagers (you bet on who has the closest guess on seven questions) and Roll Through the Ages (a dice game I’d played a few time before). I was partners with Sue Halberstadt in a game similar to Trivial Pursuit, only teams guess people, things or events based on a sequence of clues. We were heading for victory except that we landed on a stupid chute, knocking us backwards. Still it was fun. The winners were John Hendrick, who comes each year from Wisconsin, and Charles Halberstadt, who took photos of the proceedings. In a journal John wrote down every game he played and how he did. Otherwise, he told me, the weekend would seem like a big blur. Jef and Robin started the tradition in 1977, the year they were married; my first one was four years later when Jef took my Sixties class and invited me. Back then Pit was popular, we played Diplomacy, and both Scrabble and bridge were played. Ay midnight Saturday we played murder, where the lights go out and the one drawing an Ace kills someone off. After a scram the detective says, “One, two, three,” turns on the lights and interrogates people. Only the murderer can lie. After a few years charades replaced murder, but people still speak of it fondly.

Twenty-two year-old granddaughter Alissa dropped in to see Toni on her way back to Grand Rapids after spending the weekend in Chicago with four friends. Unfortunately she was gone when I got home. WXRT’s Lin Bramer had a “Lin’s Bin” bit on being 22 during our current hard times. Expect rejection and interrogation, he said, playing a clip from “The Graduate” when Dustin Hoffman’s father asks what he is planning to do with his life. Lin said, “You’ve never been stronger in spirit or weaker in certainty.” Calling 22 year-olds part of the boomerang generation, he labeled the crossroads they faced both a beginning and the beginning of the end (of youth, freedom, and the burdens of adulthood).

Year’s end: I received an email from Chuck Bahmueller, whom I haven’t seen in 15 years. He thanked me for my account of the Upper Dublin reunion and mentioned being close to “a Chinese couple for whose presence in the US I am responsible.” He added: “I will continue to be second father to a partially disabled former world champion cyclist who suffered a grievous brain injury in a crash many years ago; and also helping as best I can his Mexican-American girlfriend and her two kids, 12 and 14.” He works for a think tank and frequently flies to China and Hawaii – lucky man. Former student Andy Bodinet wrote that he was working on an MA in Rhode Island and hopes to be a high school Social Studies teacher. He inquired about Horace Mann School. I replied that it closed down a few years ago and that there are only three Gary public school left, West Side, Roosevelt, and Wallace. Emerson School for the Arts moved into Wirt, scattering Miller kids elsewhere. Bowman Charter School started up a few years ago, siphoning off students from the other schools. Roosevelt seems to be on its last legs.

Brazil has its first woman president, Dilma Rousseff, once jailed and tortured while the country was under military rule. She had been chief of staff for her popular predecessor, Lula da Silva. Her Workers Party also controls both legislative houses. Since the U.S. has cut down on its meddling into Latin American affairs, the democratic process has brought numerous left-leaning governments into power. Good!

Nephew Joe Robinson sent me three speed metal CDs, including “Blood of the Nations” by Accept, a band that started more than 30 years ago and had success in 1983 with “Balls to the Wall.” My favorite cut is “Rolling Thunder,” not specifically about the Vietnam bombing raids by that name but some of the lyrics fit (“Ground is trembling, night’s exploding . . . . Can you hear the rolling thunder shakin’ the world tonight”). Rather than play all three CDs in one listening, I plan to break in one a week for my listening pleasure.

Jeff Manes is looking to interview a China-American for his SALT column. I suggested Diana Chen Lin, but he’s hoping to find a Northwest Indiana resident. His last Salt was Robert Bailey, who works for Sojourner Truth House in Gary. His first charity work was helping his mother, Post-Trib reporter Lori Caldwell, distribute food and presents as part of the Newspaper Guild’s Christmas Neediest program. Santa’s helpers delivered baskets throughout Northwest Indiana, but Bailey and his mother took the Gary addresses. Asked why, he told Jeff, “My family has Gary roots. Gary has some of the nicest people I’ve ever met – absolute salt-of-the-earth gracious people. This is my spiritual home. Some of my happiest moments of my life occurred while riding around Gary delivering food baskets with my mom.” Nice to read positive things about Gary residents. A recent article about 54 murders in 2009 and residents not cooperating with police led to a spate of ugly Qucklies. Sam Barnett was quick to point out the typo in the headline about “Gary Homocides.” Anti-gay Freudian slip perhaps? Dean Bottorff, formerly headline writer for the Sunday issue, would be smiling if he saw it.

Dave Barry’s “Year in Review” satire is entitled, “Why 2010 made us sick: Between the endless health-care debate, an unstoppable oil slick and ‘Jersey Shore,’ it’s a wonder it didn’t kill us.” Other subjects Barry mines: Lindsay Lohan going in and out of rehab, the late night NBC fiasco pitting Cinan O’Brien against Jay Leno, the Toyota recalls, the sound of vuvuzelas at the World Cup, TSA’s high-resolution scanners, Christine O’Donnell’s “I am not a witch” TV commercial, and Bristol Palin on “Dancing with the Stars.”

To Do list: If IU Press accepts Sheriff Dominguez’s “Spirits from the Fields,” I’ll interview him a few more times and make final revisions. I’m hoping to get many folks at IUN to keep journals during the “Ides of March” and put together a composite social history for a future Shavings issue. I’ll begin my term at condo board secretary and hopefully become better acquainted with my neighbors. I expect to travel to Cancun, California, Florida, and perhaps Europe and to keep playing bridge and going to the theater with Dick and Cheryl Hagelberg. Blessed with good friends and family, most of the time, like my stepfather Howard Roberts was fond of saying, “I’m a happy man.”