Monday, July 30, 2012

Philadelphia Freedom


“I used to be a rolling stone
You know if the cause was right
I’d leave to find the answer on the road.”
    “Philadelphia Freedom,” Elton John
                                   Donn Gobbie (Post-Tribune photo by Andy Lavalley)
At the Valpo University tennis courts I ran into Don Gobbie, who reported that Billie Jean King was reading his manuscript on the women’s professional tennis circuit that got launched during the 1970s.  It’s been 39 years since Billie Jean won the “Battle of the Sexes” against self-styled chauvinist pig Bobby Riggs in the Houston Astrodome.  The following year she was part owner and starred for the Philadelphia Freedom of World Team Tennis.

Dave and his partner Mike were runner-ups in the Post-Trib over-35 doubles competition.  Facing the Mario brothers Saturday, they lost the first set 6-3, won the second set in a tie breaker and then prevailed in another tie breaker to win the match.  Three generations of Marios were on hand, and it was fun to see John and Mark, who got to the finals in men’s singles.  In the  finals a bad call prevented Dave and Mike from going up 3-2 in the first set, but their opponents earned their 6-2, 6-2 victory.

My mother finished reading the erotic novel “Fifty Shades of Grey” by E. L. James, which was the book club selection at her assisted living place.  She told me that she didn’t mind some sex in books but that this author went overboard.  What she didn’t mention is that the book deals with BDSM (bondage, dominance, sadism and masochism).  I can just imagine the nonagenarians tut-tutting over the steamy scenes.  I’d like to meet who recommended the novel.

In the news: Hammond legislator Linda Lawson replaced Pat Bauer as minority leader in the Indiana House of Representatives.  She told a Times reporter that at first she was terrified and sick to her stomach but then “the nervous feelings turned into excitement.”  Since the Republicans were in control of redistricting as a result of gains made in 2010, it will be an uphill fight for Democrats to gain ground, but their candidates for governor and senator are superior to the crazies heading the GOP ticket.

At the Ross Summer Music Theater in Merrillville Becca appeared in “The Music Man” as Amaryllis and sang a duet with the leading lady Marian Paroo.  Star Plaza CEO Charlie Blum was magnificent as Professor Harold Hill, who had specifically requested that Becca try out for the part.  Last year he had cast her in “Annie.”  We sat in the front row near a friend of Charlie’s who had traveled from New York to see him perform and who gave out a yell each time the audience applauded.  At the end the cast received a rousing standing ovation.
I knew that I’d be hearing “76 Trombones” and “Gary, Indiana, Gary, Indiana” (which always leaves me slightly teary-eyed) but was surprised that “Till There Was You” was part of Meredith Wilson’s score.  It’s the only Broadway tune the Beatles ever recorded and appeared on “Meet the Beatles” along with ten Paul McCartney and John Lennon songs and one by George Harrison.

After “The Music Man” we went directly to Highland to see James in “The Bard in the Park,” which featured scenes from “Hamlet,” “A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” and other Shakespeare classics.  James belted out his lines like a trooper.  Dave handled the sound system and will be performing Thursday in a production called “A Century of Music.”

It’s hard to escape coverage of the London Olympics.  It’s on all of the NBC networks, and a women’s water polo between China and Spain preempted Chuck Todd’s show on MSNBC.  What’s this world coming to?  Even “Good Morning America” on ABC led with ten minutes of Olympics results.

Steve McShane and I spent an hour with Carol Griskavich, a scholar from Michigan Tech in the Upper Peninsula majoring in industrial archeology.  She’s looking into research possibilities having to do with housing for steelworkers and was particularly interested in the historic Marktown neighborhood in East Chicago.  She claimed to have run up a hefty library fine on “City of the Century,” so I gave her “Gary’s First Hundred Years.”

On the way to Country Lounge for lunch with Anne Balay I heard a catchy New Wave ditty called “Hey St. Peter” by Flash ‘n’ the Pan.  I cannot recall ever hearing it before (at first I thought they were singing, “Hey Nikita”), but it appeared on the Australian band’s 1980 “Lights in the Night” album.  Must tell Seattle Joe about it.  Anne wants to see “Valor” and thinks Roy Dominguez and I should schedule a book-signing event in Miller.  Out jogging with her dog this morning, she encountered two foxes.  I ordered the house salad with chicken, passing up the “Hunky Hollow” salad named for the place’s former nickname when it was a watering hole for white ethnic politicians.  Anne is still learning how to get around in Northwest Indiana and wanted to know a north-south road besides U.S. 65 that would get her back to Route 20.  I suggested Route 51 (Ripley).

The five CDs I have on heavy rotation are by Owl City, Sara MacLaughlan, Accept, Fountains of Wayne, and Robert Blaszkiewicz’s favorite songs of 2012.  On the spindle is “Duke” by Genesis.  In “Wild Child: Girlhoods of the Counterculture” Chelsea Cain wrote about attending a July Fourth Rainbow Gathering during the 1990s and feeling a disconnect despite her hippie upbringing.  What struck her most was that women were still doing most of the cooking and childrearing chores.

  The Post-Trib’s Jerry Davich posted this comment on Facebook: “Anyone interested in a free copy of the new book, "Valor: The American Odyssey of Roy Dominguez," the former Lake County Sheriff, as told to this region's historian extraordinaire James B. Lane? 
I received it in the mail and it can be yours for the low price of, well, nothing.”  No indication that he will mention it in his column, and several people responded with snide comments although the book was quickly gobbled up.  With Rich James gone, Davich is virtually the only reporter left on the once proud daily.  He does want me to be on his radio show, however.


On this date in 1710 Virginia planter William Byrd wrote in his diary: “In the afternoon my wife and I had a little quarrel which I reconciled with a flourish.  It is to be observed that the flourish was performed on the billiard table.”

  Nick Perko passed along the information that history book club member Bob Selund passed away.  Years ago he was in our bridge group, and he always greeted me with a booming voice.  Bob could be counted on to actually read the books discussed at the meetings.  I was looking forward to seeing him at the September meeting when Sheriff Dominguez and I will talk abnout “Valor.”

Friday, July 27, 2012

Mario Brothers


Mario’s adventure is over for now, but
Mario’s dream lives forever.”
    “Go Go Mario”

Grandson James is really into Super Mario games and often goes on and on explaining the plot intricacies.  The Japanese company Nintendo developed the arcade original in 1983 and released an updated version for use on Wii games.  Plumbers Mario and Luigi fight creatures coming from the sewers of New York City. Mario first appeared in creator Shigeru Miyamoto’s game Donkey Kong.

The Cubs honored Ron Santo’s posthumous election to the Baseball Hall of Fame by cutting the grass in a way that highlighted his number 10.  Terry Jenkins called to talk about the Phillies, who resigned pitcher Cole Hamels to a record contract and recently swept a three-game series with Milwaukee with miraculous come from behind victories.  In one the Brewers’ Zack Greinke left after eight innings with a 6-1 lead only to watch six runs cross the plate in the bottom of the ninth.  Hope springs eternal even though the Phils trail the “Nasty Nats” by 13 games.

Jessica Jaffe from Chicago’s Field Museum interviewed me for a project entitled “Collecting Oral Histories and Contemporary Urban Culture of the Calumet Region.”  Their goal is to create a National heritage Corridor to showcase local heritage and partnership efforts.  From Philadelphia, Jessica has a master’s in anthropology from Tulane.  Mainly she asked about Steel Shavings and my various oral history interests.  She and intern Madeleine Tudar also spent several hours perusing various issues.  I pointed them to “Steelworkers Tales” and “Steelworkers Fight Back” and gave them “Gary’s First Hundred Years.” Jessica has been in touch with Karren Lee and and went on last month’s Miller garden walk.  I asked if she met Tanice Foltz, whose house was on the tour.  She wasn’t sure; if she had, she’d have remembered her.

Dave is playing in several Post-Trib tennis tournament events, including a doubles match against high school friends John and Mark Mario.  Their dad lives in our condo unit. John was Phil’s mentor in soccer, and Mark, nicknamed Minnie Mario, was a fierce competitor in several sports. While watching Dave and East Chicago grad Ashley Pabey play mixed doubles, I chatted with Ashley’s dad, like me a former softball player. 

Obama campaign headquarters in Chesterton had a trivia night, and the Wades named their team Rafalca after Anne Romney’s horse that’s competing in the London Olympics.  They finished in a tie but lost the tiebreaker when Darcey was overruled on which former president was a male model while at Yale.  The correct answer was Jerry Ford, a Michigan grad who went to law school there.  In a Rolling Stone interview Justin Bieber revealed that fans have nicknamed his sex organ Jerry.  I could have helped with questions about writer Jean Shepherd and the president (TR) who first coined the phrase “lunatic fringe.”

Speaking of male genitalia, passing up the opportunity to see the latest Batman flick, I was the only male patron for “Magic Mike,” directed by Steven Soderbergh (of “Sex, Lies, and Videotape” fame) about male strippers that won high praise from a Rolling Stone reviewer.  Matthew McConaughey was unbelievable as a strip club owner, announcer, and performer. 

On this day in 1933 FDR’s Interior Secretary Harold Ickes met with General Douglas MacArthur and afterwards noted in his diary: “MacArthur is the type of man who thinks that when he gets to heaven, God will step down from the great white throne and bow him into His vacated seat.”

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Seattle Joe's Visit


"Your flag decal won’t get you
Into heaven any more
We’re already overcrowded
From your dirty little war.”
    John Prine



On July 18 nephew Joe Robinson, whose liberal, anti-war political sensibilities mirror my own, arrived from Seattle for a weeklong visit.  A limo picked him up at Midway Airport and brought him to our condo.  Toni made spaghetti and kept him company while I attended a tumultuous condo owners meeting.  The chief area of contention concerned whether to spend $2,000 on shrubbery near where the Chesterton utilities department put in a cement driveway on their easement to accommodate a new piece of equipment.

We spent three nights at the downtown Grand Rapids (MI) Holiday Inn.  Joe’s niece Michele and her family stayed in the adjacent room. Joe really enjoyed the Gerald Ford Presidential Museum, especially the replica of the oval office.  I enjoyed the stuff about First Lady Betty Ford being a pro-choice feminist.  Friday we went on a fun dune ride with a dozen relatives, including Miranda, (with me in photo below)
and took the Saugatuck Chain Ferry across the Kalamazoo River (Tori and Nicholas took turns operating the wheel), after which a sports bar accommodated the 14 of us.  Saugatuck was a favorite place for my mother-in-law Blanche to visit, and we drove by a classy bed and breakfast where Midge and my stepfather Howard stayed for a week.  Afterwards Howard noted that it was somewhat pricey, not realizing that Midge had already prepaid half the cost.  They could afford the luxury.  Friday evening Phil’s family came to the hotel pool; some of us walked around downtown, coming across a jazz concert at the art museum.  Saturday we went to the nearby Van Andel Museum, named from Amway co-founder Jay Van Andel.  Among its many attractions was an arcade with “ancient” pinball machines and even a Pac man booth.  Four of us went on a merry-go-round ride on a carousel built in 1928.

Phil and Alissa went out of their way to be with us despite busy work schedules.  Joe loved rooting with Phil for the Detroit Tigers against the White Sox, and watching a tape of the  “Blues Brothers” appearances by John Lee Hooker, Aretha Franklin, Ray Charles, James Brown, and especially Cab Calloway.  Alissa and Josh biked to the hotel for breakfast with us before heading off to go tubing.

Back at the condo Sunday, Joe and I listened to albums and CDs.  He found a Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs live album of a 1962 Carnegie Hall concert, and I put on a CD of top hits of 50 years ago that included Don and Juan’s “What’s Your Name?”  On Monday at Best Buy we purchased three CDs for him and Accept’s “Stalingrad” for me.  During the six-month battle for Stalingrad, beginning in August of 1942, approximately two million Germans and Russians died and it was a major factor in Hitler’s ultimate downfall.  The title song begins, “Out along the Volga, minds set to kill, men standing ground wit iron will.”

Thanks to On Demand, Joe and I watched “The Three Stooges” for $5.99 and “Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story” for free.  John C. Reilly as Dewey was amazing spoofing the Johnny Cash movie “Walk the Line.” 

Neighbor Dave learned about Joe’s musical tastes and burned five John Prine CDs for him.  The three of us gave a listen to Prine’s first album while drinking brew-skis (Dave brought over PBRs for Joe to sample). Born in 1946, John Prine served in the army in Germany during the Vietnam War and after working as a mailman became, along with Steve Goodman, a mainstay in the Chicago Folk Revival of the early 70s.  Dave also introduced us to guitarist Danny Gatton, whose unique style was a blend of rockabilly, country, blues, and jazz.

A limo driver picked Joe up at eleven, and I made it to IUN in time for Thrill of the Grill featuring tacos and lively music by Hijos de Rythmo.  In my absence Ron Cohen had dropped off a copy of his Woody Guthrie biography, subtitled “Writing America’s Songs.”  Nephew Joe had several Woody CDs waiting for him at the local branch of the Seattle Public Library.  Ron starts each chapter with a Guthrie quote, including his claim that “every folk song I know tells how to fix something in this world to make it better.”

Awaiting me were requests to talk to Nicole Anslover’s class about the postwar in the Calumet Region and to the Dunelands Historical Society about Vivian Carter (the president had run across my Traces article about her founding Vee-Jay records.  Two scholars want to speak with me about their research interests (labor history and industrial archaeology).

Ray Smock sent his foreword to Michael Austin’s “That’s Not What They Meant: Reclaiming the Founding Fathers from America’s Right Wing.”  Politicians of all stripes have taken the founders’ words out of context over the years.  The biggest culprits recently have been FOX lackies Glenn Beck and Sean Hannity.

In the news: a gunman in Aurora, Colorado, killed a dozen people and wounded 50 more at a midnight showing of the new Batman movie “The Dark Knight Rises,” and Penn State officials ordered the statue of Coach Joe Paterno taken down after the NCAA punished the university for turning a blind eye to children abused by assistant coach Jerry Sandusky.  A federal law banning assault weapons expired in 2004, and neither political party seems anxious to take on the almighty NRA.  A former student posted this conservative tripe: “If you think a theatre filled with unarmed people against a lone gunman is scary, imagine a disarmed populace against a tyrannical government.”  I responded: “Bullshit.  As Obama said, assault rifles belong in the hands of military troops, not in crazy people’s hands.”

I started reading “Wild Child: Girlhoods in the Counterculture.”  In the foreword Moon Unit Zappa writes that “at my house clothes were an extension of the imagination, used to name who or what you were for the hour or so you had them on, a dinosaur or a witch or a superhero.  Clothes were costumes for putting on shows.”

Monday, July 16, 2012

Bound for Glory


This train is bound for glory
Don’t carry nothing but the righteous and the holy
This train is bound for glory, this train.”
    Woody Guthrie

Ron Cohen’s Woody Guthrie book is out, subtitled “Writing America’s Songs.”  Good timing since the “Bound for Glory” troubadour was born exactly one hundred years ago.  During his visit to the Archives I gave Ron a copy of “Valor” that the Sheriff and I both signed.  On the back cover is Ron’s endorsement of “a rags-to-riches story of a Mexican-American who overcame many hardships to become sheriff of Lake County, after a stellar career as a state trooper, attorney, and local political figure.”

Woody Allen’s “To Rome with Love” was mildly amusing, but Penelope Cruz as a wise-cracking prostitute was alone worth the price of admission.  Plus it’s always fun watching Alec Baldwin squeeze the most out of a role.  Woody, as usual, played a neurotic caricature of himself.  I may have been the youngest person in the audience.

In a play in Grand Rapids Tori shined, but I couldn’t hear most of the dialogue.  The musical numbers were good though.  We spent the night at Alissa and Josh’s apartment after a pizza meal at Phil and Delia’s.  Josh was reading Nelson Algren’s “Never Come Morning,” so I perused the first few chapters.  Set in a Chicago Polish neighborhood circa 1940, it makes references to a Region amusement park and Gary middleweight champ Tony Zale.  After forcing himself on his girlfriend, Casey rationalizes it by saying to himself, “I guess I’ll take her to Riverview.”  A washed up fighter recalls his moment of glory when in Gary he threw a punch that stunned a future champ.

Saturday was Miranda’s high school graduation party.  While some of her friends were in-crowd types, others looked like good old down-to-earth hippies.  One guy had hair dyed a half-dozen different colors; another wore a t-shirt proclaiming, “My Mother Loves Me.”  Beth (Alissa’s mom) drove in from Washington, DC, and Delia’s mother brought rice and other Puerto Rican specialties.  Dave and I prevailed in two of three of beanbag toss contests against Phil and Miranda’s boyfriend Derrick, who were somewhat distracted by being targets of water balloons. I enjoyed Miranda’s friend Ashley Grzeszak, who will attend Michigan State in the fall.   Miranda is going to Grand Valley State, where Alissa recently got offered a full-time job (hooray, hooray!!!), beating out 122 other candidates.
above, Jimbo with Toni, Becca, Miranda, and Ashley; below, Paula Cooper, Times photo by Sarah Tompkins

Sunday we took the Hagelbergs to Sage for dinner and then played bridge at the condo.  I showed them “Valor” and the excellent Times front page story entitled “Paula Cooper: A Second Chance.” In 1985 15 year-old Paula and three other girls stabbed 78 year-old Glen Park Bible teacher Ruth Pelke to death.  Paula was initially sentenced to death, but after worldwide protest and Pelke’s own grandson taking up her cause, it was reduced to sixty years.  With time off for good behavior, she will be released a year from now.  In prison, Paula earned a GED, a bachelor’s degree and various culinary certificates.  Contrite about her crime, she credits God and Bill Pelke, who writes her weekly and has visited her frequently, for having faith in her. Pelke has said, “Paula has changed.  She’s not the same person that committed that terrible crime.”

Of the dozens of on-line respondents to the Paula Cooper story, opinion was divided on her going free.  Hopefully the belief of Bill Pelke, that “we are supposed to hate the sin but love the sinner,” will carry the day and a future employer will give Paula a job.  She told Times reporter Sarah Tompkins, “I don’t care if I have to sweep floors, wash dishes or flip hamburgers, I’m going to take what I can get, you know, just to get on my feet and show people that I deserve a chance.”

Anne Balay and I were going to get together to discuss the final chapter of her book on GLBT steelworkers, but instead we did it by phone.  I recommend that she interview USWA district director Jim Robinson and perhaps start chapters with quotes from some of the 40 interviewees.  I recently learned that some people use the initials GLBTIQ for gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgendered, intersex and questioning.

Karen DePirro’s work was on display at IUN’s Savannah Center Gallery.  Ann Fritz put out a nice spread, as always.  The pieces in the show, entitled “Alternate Reality,” combined realistic landscape or water background scenes with surrealistic still life figures in the foreground.  A former teacher from St. John, IN, she was friendly and I really enjoyed viewing her work.

Karren Lee sent me the 12-minute documentary Marty Bohn made of the June Pop Up Art event.  In it I discuss Dale Fleming’s artwork for several minutes, including many illustrations that appeared in my “Lake Michigan Tales” issue.  Marty’s audio wasn’t working earlier in the evening, so she made due as best she could with background music.

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Thing Called Love


“I ain’t no porcupine
Take off your kid gloves.”
  John Hiatt, “Thing Called Love”

Steve McShane asks visitors to the archives to put on kid gloves when handling sensitive materials.  Recently he retrieved bound volumes of Lake County newspapers dating back to the nineteenth century.  The paper is very fragile, he noted.  I tried to convince him to have lunch outside during Tuesday’s Thrill of the Grill, but he was helping several researchers, including John Trafny, working on a book about Glen Park. 
Nicole Jamrose and Mark Soljacich played two sets of blues, country and pop tunes for a paltry but appreciative audience that included mainly IUN staff members and medical school students on lunch break.  Most students and faculty were in class, given the crazy summer hours.  No wonder enrollment is down.  Seven years ago Nicole finished third in the TV series “Nashville Star” competition.  She and Mark did selections by the likes of John Hiatt, John Prine and Dusty Springfield as well as originals like “Fall Out of Love.”  Between numbers Mark bantered with the audience, referring to the med students as a triage unit, and played a mean Chuck Berry lick on an upbeat number.  Because Omar Farag booked them, I wore a Stand Up for Steel” t-shirt with an “Omar Presents” logo on it from a concert held ten years ago at the SteelYard baseball park in Gary.  Omar was elsewhere, but Terry Ann Defenser from University Relations noticed it.  She worked for Omar back then and had helped with preparations.  Small world.
Uniformed police passed through the courtyard on the way to the Conference Center for the swearing-in ceremony for IUN police chief Patricia Nowak.  I mentioned Sheriff Dominguez’s new book “Valor” to IU Public Safety Director Jerry Minger, who administered the oath, and he remembered Roy from police academy days and hoped he’d attend an upcoming fortieth anniversary event.  Roy was the first Latino state trooper and was selected by his peers as the outstanding cadet in his class.

I got my glasses tightened for free at Vision Point, a nice service considering I never bought anything there.  I did ask if they sold Wedgees or other products to keep glasses from falling off, but the answer was no.

James and I made significant progress on the thousand-piece Rock and Roll jigsaw puzzle.  Where I once had to cajole him to work on it, he is now very gung ho and better at finding pieces than I.  Meanwhile, he is learning about ZZ Top and other rockers.


The Times ran a front-page article by Susan Erler on efforts to transform downtown Miller Beach into a hub for the arts.  A color photo captures Corey Hagelberg standing in front of his art piece at the Marshall J. Gardner Center for the Arts (formerly Miller Drugs) along with friends Josh McGarvey and Seneca Weintraub. A second Jonathan Miano photo shows Karren Lee getting the Center ready for Pop Up Art.

Greg Reising, representing the Chanute Aquatorium Society, sent out a newsletter touting an August event that will feature authors Linda Simon and Jane Anneson of the pictorial book “Miller Beach.”  Steve McShane helped them find material, and Ron Cohen aided with the text, so hopefully they will donate a copy or two to the Archives.

Local papers are reporting all too often about drownings in Lake Michigan.  Authorities finally found the body of 15 year-old Portage resident Corey McFry, who was swimming in choppy waters as the air show was ending Sunday and got caught in a rip tide.  As the Post-Trib’s Jerry Davich wrote, “Lake Michigan isn’t a water park or a public swimming pool.  It’s the real deal – beautiful yet dangerous, incredibly enticing but potentially deadly.”

Exactly 206 years ago, encamped by the Missouri River, Meriwether Lewis recorded this in his journal: “It is now the season at which buffalo begin to copulate, and the bulls keep a tremendous roaring.  We could hear them for many miles, and there are such numbers of them that there is one continuous roar.  Our horses had not been acquainted with the buffalo.  They appear much alarmed at their appearance and bellowing.”

The latest Sports Illustrated “where are they now?” issue has a contribution by 70 year-old veteran writer Roy Blount, Jr., who claims that his most vigorous activity is doing chest bumps with his cat Jimmy reminiscent of Yogi Berra jumping into Don Larson’s arms after the pitcher’s World Series perfect game.  Blount writes: “Seventy is like being an athlete in one way: the aches and pains.  The other day a nurse was about to inoculate me against shingles.  ‘This will hurt,’ she said.  Then a pinprick.  I had to tell that young person, I hurt worse than that all over, all the time’”

Don Terry’s article “Where Work Disappears and Dreams Die” just appeared in “The American Prospect.”  As the title indicates, it is virtually all negative save for some wistful remarks by Mayor Karen Freeman-Wilson.  Terry started his investigation looking for poverty, crime, and decay on the fiftieth anniversary of Michael Harrington’s “The Other America,” and he found plenty of it – a closed downtown library, a drive-by shooting, an overcrowded food bank, vacant vandalized schools.  He didn’t use any of the material I told him about viable neighborhoods, resilient people and potential for developing the lakefront and the education corridor between IU Northwest and Ivy Tech.  For historical perspective he quotes S. Paul O’Hara, author of “Gary: The Most American of All American Cities,” who argued that “deindustrialization just doesn’t remove the wages, the jobs, the pride – it removes that foundation that undergirds the churches, the social institutions.  The soul of the city is tied up in industrial work, and now, for most people, that work is gone.”  Terry ends with two homeless shelter residents musing about their downtrodden city.  Levi Gildon says, “It’s almost to the time there should be a eulogy spoken over the city.”  To which Charles Byrom replies, “It’s not dead yet, but it’s definitely on life support.”  The soul of the city, right now and for the future, rests is its mostly non-white residents, who deserve more help from Indianapolis and Washington, but as Brothers Keeper director Mary Edwards noted, “The government has downsized the role it plays in the lives of poor people.”

Monday, July 9, 2012

Here Comes the Sun


“Into each life
Some rain must fall.” 
  Ray Charles, “Drown in My Own Tears”

Neighbor Dave expressed interest in albums I’ve been meaning to get rid of that are in our garage, in particular two by Credence Clearwater Revival that I have on CD.  Coming across Steve Winwood’s “Arc of a Diver” and Jackson Browne’s “Running on Empty,” I decided to bring them to the basement because I’m not sure if I have those on CD.  I thought I did but couldn’t find them last time I looked.  I passed on a couple Beatles albums but also salvaged a Ray Charles LP and have been playing a 1956 Time/Life greatest hits of 1956 CD that includes “Drown in my Own Tears.”

With my back still sore from the plane trip back from California, I paid as visit to my old reliable chiropractor Manuel Kazanas, who gave me an adjustment that did the trick.  Then after downing two Taco Supremes I checked out Oliver Stone’s “Savages,” about a couple guys who marketed primo weed facing Mexican thugs who seek to horn in on their business.  I closed my eyes a few times during the violent parts but enjoyed it.  John Travolta is a hoot as a corrupt federal drug agent.  Drug scenes played a large part in several of Stone’s previous movies, including “Platoon” and “The Doors.”  On the soundtrack is Peter Tosh’s “Legalize It,” but my favorite was Malaysian singer Yuna’s version of “Here Comes the Sun.”

James slept over Friday, so in the morning I cooked up bacon and pancakes – with chocolate bits for him and blueberries for me.  Dave and Tom came over for gaming, and in the afternoon I went to Paul Kaczocha’s annual picnic.  Fortunately the wind shifted, dropping the temp almost 20 degrees to a tolerable 84.  As I drove down County Line Road in Miller, a long line of cars was leaving, indicating to me that the Gary Air Show was over. Turning onto Oak St. a terrific noise startled me.  After a moment I realized that it was a plane from the air show.  I arrived the same time as Alice Bush, who was carrying deviled eggs.  Her son Mike showed up briefly but claimed he couldn’t turn off his car motor for fear it wouldn’t start up again.

At the picnic I got into a lively discussion with Jim Balanoff, Jr., and Mike Olszanski.  Oz and I put out a Shavings magazine called “Steelworkers Fight back” about the 1977 USWA election involving Ed Sadlowski for union president and Balanoff’s dad for district director.  Jim claimed that when his dad ran for re-election in 1981 Eddie secretly supported Jack Parton in return for being promised a position as sub-district director.  We discussed which event had the greatest impact on American history, the assassinations of JFK and RFK or 9/11.   All three were sad days for America.

I had a mild interest in the Wimbledon finals, rooting for ultimate winners Serena Williams and Roger Federer.  I enjoyed the commentary of John McEnroe, whose clashes with umpires 30 years ago were legendary.  Now with cameras able to show down to the millimeter whether or not a ball is out, outbursts by players are few and far between.

James and I fitted 60 more pieces into the thousand-piece Rock and Roll Puzzle.  Even though it was hard on the back, I stayed with it after he left while watching the White Sox lose to Toronto, 11-9.  They still have a three-game lead over Cleveland going into the All-Star break, but Detroit is finally making its move.

I’ve decided that when I get more “Valor” books I’ll send inscribed copies to Don Ritchie (who re-enforced my belief in the efficacy of oral history”) and Ira Berlin to put in Maryland’s H. Samuel Merrill seminar room bookcase (I’ll dedicate it to Marion Merrill, Sam’s faithful sidekick, who nurtured a cohort of grad students).

Judge Miroc selected “Wolves against the Moon” to report on to the History Book Club.  When I was researching pioneers Joseph and Marie Bailly for ”City of the Century,” I consulted it even though it is a fictionalized account of their lives.  Of French and Indian descent, Marie live for a time with Ottawa among the Ottawa and was the first woman settler in Northwest Indiana, and her life symbolized the merging of French and Indian culture and the destruction of that way of life by western expansion.  A devout Catholic, she was a missionary to tribesmen who frequented her husband Joseph’s trading post.
                     (home to Joseph and Marie Bailly at the time of their deaths in 1835 and 1866)
IUN Bookstore manager Donna DeGradi reports that she is unable to stock the book about women’s diaries, “Private Pages,” so I will substitute “Wild Girls: Girlhoods in the Counterculture,” edited by Chelsea Cain with a foreword by Moon Unit Zappa.  “The diaries in “Private Pages” were often prosaic, so this may be a blessing in disguise.

Thursday, July 5, 2012

Independence Day


“I would like to salute
The ashes of American flags
And all the fallen leaves
Filling up shopping bags.”
    Wilco, “Ashes of American Flags”

I finally got around to watching the WILCO documentary “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart” that Jonathan Briggs lent me.  It was so good I think I’ll show it to Seattle Joe during his visit.  What a haunting song “Ashes” is, decrying America’s consumer society.  Are the fallen leaves a reference to soldiers in body bags, I wonder?

In an article entitled “He is called a Region Rat,” published in the 2011 issue of South Shore Journal Tracy L. Rongers wrote about Eastern European grandparents living in Glen Park during the 1970s, when it was, briefly, culturally and racially diverse, if not harmonious.  The grandfather, according to Rongers, hated everyone equally and was fond of saying “Gary ain’t even safe to fly over” or “Don’t ever eat at a Greek restaurant, they pick food off the floor and serve it.”  His grandson would steal rhubarb from the gardens of old ladies, who’d “run out in house coats with their hair in rollers and covered with a scarf or native babushka, wielding broom and cursing in some foreign tongue.”

Rongers continued: Back in the day, his grandparents would throw the biggest parties on the Fourth of July.  What seemed like two hundred people filled their home playing Pinochle and Kismet.  He had learned to play the complicated card game of trump and betting at a very early age and his grandpa would always give him nickels to join in the fun.  Kismet was a dice game of chance, which his grandma would describe as a reminder of her gypsy roots. At least eight tables of games were being played inside while outside a dozen chickens were roasting on a spit hovering above a small trench in the yard filled with charcoal.  The men gathered around the roasting lamb and tended to the chicken.  Whiskey and wine flowed!  The women were lined up in sunbathing chairs with big colorful earrings and sunglasses and stripped bikinis. Everyone held a small American flag.  When he visited the house last year to clean out the remnants of all those family memories, his daughter found one of those small American flags and he remembered that day as he did now.”

On George Bodmer’s recommendation I took Toni to see “Moonrise Kingdom,” a delightful fairy tale of young romance with bang-up supporting performances by Bruce Willis, Ed Norton, Bill Murray, Frances McDormand, and Harvey Keitel. In the only make-out scene the young couple French kiss and then Suzy tells Sam he can touch her breasts, adding that she thinks they are going to get bigger.  As they embrace, she says, “I think it’s hard.”  Sam: “Does that bother you?”  Suzy: “I like it.”  The scene is comedic rather than creepy or smarmy.  A highlight is a local production of Benjamin Britten’s “Noye’s Fludde” (Noah’s Flood), with Suzy dressed as a raven, a harbinger of the nor’easter that will inundate the island.

On July Fourth, before going to Hagelbergs for barbeque and bridge, I watched several “Revolution” episodes on the so-called History Channel, which airs “Swamp People,” “Mountain Men,” Shark Wrangler,” and “Cajun Pawn Stars”  (before it was WW II, Kennedys, and disasters). When some Iroquois tribes sided with the British, Washington ordered a scorched earth campaign against villages worse than Sherman’s March through Georgia 85 years later.  While generally accurate and utilizing thoughtful snippets from top-notch historians, the series had its hokey moments and used several identical scenes – a soldier mending his uniform, wealthy Loyalists at a ball, a fallen Patriot – more than once.  The same bewigged actors, for example, were dancing in Philadelphia in 1776 and Charleston in 1779.  It examines how George Washington dealt with challenges to his authority from Charles Lee and other generals and how close he came on several occasions to being killed. 

With Joe coming in soon from Seattle, I was ready to buy a GPS.  Garmin is the most popular brand, but I really liked the Magellon Neverlost that Hertz uses.  Corey at Best Buy explained that the Garmin Nuvi 2555 for $199 has all their features, so he put one aside for me and gave me a two-minute instruction when I went there after having lunch with Sheriff Dominguez to celebrate the publication of “Valor” and autograph some copies, including one to Evan Bayh, who contributed the Foreword.  
Roy informed me that Indiana University Press has also released the hard book on Kindle.  He’s hoping we can have the first book-signing event at IUN.  The car thermometer recorded 110 degrees when I left Gino’s before dropping five degrees by the time I reached Best Buy.  The heat wave has blanketed the eastern half of the nation.

In the Post-Trib IUN emeritus professor of Education John Ban pointed out the irony of Mitch Daniels becoming president of Purdue after he questioned whether the cost of a college education was worth it.  Ban wrote: “If Daniels truly were an educator, he would know that people go to college for many reasons.  Job preparation is the main one, but it is not the only one.  They go to college to mature and discover what the world is all about.  They go to college to learn how to get along with people and find pathways to contribute to society.  They also go to college to learn about the arts and deepen their appreciation of man’s most noble ideas.  Higher education is the universe that inspires young people to think, analyze, and acquire insights onto our and the world’s culture.  It broadens their vision of what they can be and what their country can be.”

New acquisition (from Boston) Kevin Youkilis has driven in the winning run against Texas two days in a row, assuring that the White Sox will be in first place at All-Star break.  Leading the NL Central: the Pittsburgh Pirates.  Pittsburgh Dave Lane is ecstatic.

Monday, July 2, 2012

Rancho Mirage


“Never saw the sun shining so bright
Never saw things going so right.”
  Ella Fitzgerald, “Blue Skies”

I spent five days in California on the occasion of my mother’s ninety-sixth birthday.  American Airlines took me to Dallas/Fort Worth and then on to Palm Springs, where the weather was 110 degrees when we landed, down from 114 earlier.  I never saw a cloud in the sky the entire trip.  The sun was so relentless I could have burned a finger touching my rented Corolla.  Thanks to the Hertz GPS I arrived at my mother’s assisted living facility, Mirage Inn, and we chatted a while before I checked in at the Holiday Inn in Rancho Mirage and had two Michelob Ultra 22-ouncers at Applebee’s.  The next evening we celebrated at Shame on the Moon, named for a Bob Seger lyric.  I had a tender veal pot roast entry (my apologies, animal lovers).

At the motel breakfast buffet Thursday I watched CNN’s coverage of the Obamacare Supreme Court decision.  First reports were that Chief Justice John Roberts, writing for the majority, struck down the individual mandate section, but it turned out he merely decided it wasn’t constitutional under the commerce clause but legal due to the federal government’s taxing power.  Unlike the reactionary judicial activists he often sides with, Roberts seemed to search hard to avoid striking down the controversial legislation and emerged the big winner despite initial howls from Obama haters who wanted to see his most important first-term accomplishment invalidated. 
We visited Sunnylands Center and Garden, on the former estate of Walter and Leonore Annenberg, now a public trust. Walter accumulated money as publisher of the Philadelphia Inquirer and a racing form, then started TV Guide when fewer than ten percent of Americans owned televisions and Seventeen for teenage baby boomers.  He acquired the ABC affiliate in Philly, which grew by leaps and bounds after the launching of “American Bandstand.”  After receiving considerable funds from the Annenbergs, Nixon appointed the communications mogul ambassador to the Court of St. James.  On display in the Welcome Center were eighteenth-century gold server dishes once belonging to Prime Minister William Pitt.  Leonore, whose uncle was legendary Columbia Pictures czar Harry Cohn, was chief of protocol under Reagan.  The gardens were fantastic, designed ingeniously to conserve energy and minimize evaporation.  In front were four trees native to Africa.  According to the guide, when giraffes start eating the leaves of that species, as a survival mechanism trees would give off an odorous signal to others by releasing a chemical making the leaves repellent to the taste.

We had several meals at the Mirage Inn, which enabled my mother to show me off to her friends.  Shirley, age 97, is a live wire and very sociable, as are her other dining companions Dottie and Adeline.  A woman who was 101 goes without a cane or walker to a nearby Indian casino every Friday.  There’s a well-attended afternoon Happy Hour, and Friday’s entertainment in the Cabaret D’Mirage featured Mara Getz belting out old standards.  Many of the ladies were swaying and singing along or at least mouthing the words.  The hour program began with Duke Ellington’s “Take the A Train (to Harlem)” and ended with Ella Fitzgerald’s “Blue Skies.”  I had a beer and turned down an offer of seconds.

During the week I grappled with USA Today crossword puzzles.  For “Lincoln’s first home,” I guessed Kentucky only to discover later that the answer was “log cabin.”  The heart of mothers turned out to be “the” (the middle three letters).  My mother helped me with “wide lace collars” (berthas).  Because my TV got HBO, I saw parts of “Dances with Wolves” and “Crazy Stupid Love.”  I’m a big fan of Steve Carell and Julianne Moore, and when I saw the latter at the movies I hadn’t realized that the great Marisa Tomei played the horny teacher.
Nephew Bob arrived Friday with Niki and the kids.  Four year-old Addie gave me a big hug and Crosby didn’t mind my embracing him and kissing the top of his head.  We had a second birthday celebration at the Yard House, a huge establishment that had dozens of beers on draft and delicious crab cakes.  Saturday evening the kids swam in the motel pool.  Normally they hate the water, but Addie wanted to show off for me and, once in, loved it.  Crosby, wearing an arm buoyancy device, was fearless jumping in toward one of his parents.  Bob and Niki were bursting with pride.  Afterwards, while the kids bathed, Bob and I had an hour to ourselves at nearby Applebee’s and he filled me in on his new marketing job.
I recognized a hot-looking bartender named Natasha from previous visits and struck up a conversation after she sat down next to me and asked where I was from.  She’s been working there for almost ten years and is German on her father’s side and Southern (Georgian) on her mother’s. We talked about both liking “The Rocky and Bullwinkle Show,” especially the Russian cartoon characters Boris and Natasha, who were secret agents.  Natasha watched reruns with her dad.  When I worked evenings in the women’s cafeteria at Bucknell as a dishwasher alongside football players on scholarship, we’d often watch the show during our break.  Like “The Simpsons,” its puns and asides were meant more for adults than kids.

On both flights home a friendly blond woman was traveling with a small dog.  Before take-off a flight attendant threatened to kick her off the plane if she didn’t put the animal in its carry-on case.  She didn’t comply but had something indicating it was a guide dog and the attendant apologized for his actions.

Big doings back home while I was away. Cracker performed Friday at the Hobart Jaycees Fest beer garden.  The Michiganders attended Becca’s tenth birthday party, and seven of them, including two boyfriends, plus a dog crashed at the condo.  Sunday was SEIU stalwart and dear friend Alice Bush’s retirement party.  Sorry to miss all of them.  Awaiting me at home: a thank-you note from Dale Fleming for the proceeds raised from the sale of his drawings at Pop Up Art and, drum roll, please, five complimentary copies of “Valor: The Odyssey of Roy Dominguez” as told to James B. Lane.  The book looked fantastic; I phoned Roy, and he agreed.  I mentioned how cool the photo section was and that it was a shame Gary Martin, Bob Lovely, Jesse Villalpando, and others weren’t alive to read how important they were in his life.  Among the photos on the back cover is a shot of Roy and me.  In my Afterword I thank oral history pioneers Studs Terkel, Michael Frisch, Donald Ritchie, and Alessandro Portelli who broadened the parameters of our profession by their “from the bottom up” approach.

James Madison loves Henry Farag’s “The Signal” and will recommend to IU Press that they publish it as an Ebook.  That’s great news, and we are crossing our fingers in hops that it becomes part of his series on Midwestern History and Culture.

At lunch George Bodmer showed me the journal he has been keeping, usually a couple paragraphs about how his day went.  He even had an entry about getting hit crossing Broadway by a car, written from the hospital.  Alan Lindmark asked me what politician might become IU’s next president.  Evan Bayh, I replied, without hesitation.  Thursday the sheriff and I will have lunch and autograph copies of “Valor” to Bayh (who wrote the foreword) and others, including Steve McShane and Ronald Cohen, whose blurbs appear on the back cover.

The South Shore Journal accepted my article “The Dune Fawn: Diana of the Dunes’ Male Counterpart.”  Both reader suggested (and I concurred) that I delete two pages from Webb Waldron’s chapter on the “Dune-Faun,” and the other recommended revisions were minor and, for the most part, welcomed.  I am hoping to combine the issue of the journal with a reprint of “Tales of Lake Michigan” as a special Shavings volume.