Closing day finally arrived, and after signing a couple dozen forms at the Chicago Title Company in Valpo Toni and I are proud owners of a condo in Chesterton, Indiana. We finally met the seller, a high school English teacher who seemed very nice. Yesterday we had our next-to-last walk through, and after he moves out on Monday, the final walk-through will occur. Last evening Miller realtor Gene Ayers called to tell us he found a house near the lake we might like. Told him it was too late. I think we’re ready for a condo, and Gary taxes are through the roof.
I finished Vonnegut’s “Timespace.” Like I had done in volume 40, he referred to retirement as being “out to pasture,” left to munch and ruminate. He repeated a joke about the Chicago Cubs moving to the Philippines and becoming the Manila Folders. He mentioned having a scotch and soda at a motel bar after giving a speech in Zaneville, Ohio, when in came a crowd of people who, in Vonnegut’s words, “seemed to really like each other. They had a lot to laugh about. It sure looked nice. It sure looked right.” Vonnegut asked the bartender who they were, and they turned out to be back for their high school’s fiftieth reunion. Vonnegut added that sadly he had missed his Indianapolis Shortridge Class of 1940 reunion. Pam Tucker recently wondered whether any unmarried guys would be coming to ours, which is coming up in October (so not to interfere with weddings, graduations, summer vacations, and the like).
The new Sports Illustrated has a major story about one of the first openly gay male athletes, Welsh rugby player Gareth Thomas, whose nickname is “Alf” after the TV character. He is so popular and muscled up that supposedly his teammates are fine with it. On the cover are four Yankees who have played together for 16 years – Mariano Duncan, Derek Jeter, Jorge Posada and Andy Pettite (in between a short stint with Houston). One article mentioned a documentary due out on HBO soon about the Philadelphia Flyer teams of the early Seventies, known as the Broadway Bullies. The baddest of the bunch was Dave “Dutch” Schultz. In 1973 Milan Andrejevich and I had standing room only to a Black Hawks – Flyers game at the old Chicago Stadium. We were in the upper deck near the railing. Not knowing any better, I had my Bobby Clarke Flyers shirt on. A minute into the game Keith Magnuson hits Clarke with a hard check. Immediately Coach Fred Shero sent Schultz onto the ice. He heads right to Magnuson and starts pummeling him. Someone near me yells, “Get him, Schultzie,” and people turn and see me with my Flyers shirt on. Soon afterwards, someone tried to douse me with beer. I wore my coat over the jersey the rest of the game.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Clash of the Titans
Before leaving school yesterday I attended a surprise birthday party for Charlotte Reed, who was so helpful to son Dave when he was in IUN’s Urban Teacher program. I was in a sour mood after learning about an adverse and unwarranted tenure and promotion decision made by university higher-ups. Toni and I caught the 1:30 playing of “Clash of the Titans.” I ran into Paul Blohm, who had just seen it and was off to grade papers. Although not a particularly good remake of the 1981 film, Sam Worthington was fine as the hero Perseus and had an especially neat scene fighting Medusa. The title was rather a misnomer since Titans were elder gods overthrown by Zeus, the son of King Cronus, whereas in this flick Zeus and his allies were fighting rebellious humans led by demi-god Perseus, whose mother had been raped by Zeus. In school I could never understand why we were asked to memorize names of gods since they weren’t real.
My back, which has been bothering me all week, is much improved, but now I have a rash from where I have been applying (perhaps too vigorously) Ben-Gay and a heating pad. I wish I could trade in my body for a better model. At least my PSA reading was normal. Dr. Quackenbush thought maybe I have shingles, which is a virus that can attack nerves and then manifests itself in a rash. That makes sense. Unfortunately not much can be done to treat it if not caught quickly. Like a cold virus it just has to run its course, which can take some time.
Toni went out to dinner with Angie and the kids, so I could play music loud. Right now the five CDs I have ready to go are by Frank Black, MGMT, Owl City, the Donnas and “The Crow” soundtrack. I got well into Kurt Vonnegut’s “Timequake.” The author has such a splendid wit. I’ve read “Breakfast of Champions” at least five times. In “Timequake” Vonnegut claims most marriages go bust because extended families are largely a thing of the past. He adds that what women want are a whole lot more people to talk to. He also writes: “I am told there is a photograph often used in textbooks that supposedly shows immigrants disembarking here, but actually they are getting on a ship to go back to where they came from.” Wonder if that is true. Must ask Ray Smock. The book is quite autobiographical, and Vonnegut reveals that his two greatest heroes are socialists, playwright George Bernard Shaw and five-time Presidential candidate Eugene Victor Debs, whose famous line he quotes: While there is a lower class, I am in it, while there is a criminal element, I am of it; while there is a soul in prison, I am not free.”
In the news: Goldman Sachs executives took a grilling from Senator Levin’s subcommittee. The S.O.B.s still won’t admit there was anything wrong with selling short on stocks they were telling their customers to buy. Republicans are having trouble pretending to be for reform yet refusing to allow it to come up for open debate. Arizona’s Governor Jan Brewer is taking heat for signing a bill demanding that police stop suspicious people (read MEXICANS) and demand that they produce papers proving that they are not illegal immigrants. Demonstrations have taken place, and her opponents are vowing to organize boycotts similar to when groups would not hold conferences in Chicago in the wake of the police riot at the 1968 Democratic convention.
Today’s Times had an article about a Muslim school in Merrillville called Avicenna Academy. About 60 students go there in grades up to fifth, and they are planning to add sixth grade next year. In addition to regular subjects kids have lessons in Islamic Studies and Arabic. The school is named for Abu Ali Sina, an Arabian physician and philosopher who lived a thousand years ago. I’d love to put out a Steel Shavings issue on Muslims in Northwest Indiana. Quite a few attend classes at IUN, and it would be great to interview such folks as the woman who manages the gas station at Ogden Dunes or the Palestinians who own Four Brothers Grocery on Twenty-First Avenue in Gary. When I started at IUN, there was a popular student government president named Sami Jadallah. One of my old softball teammates named Mustafe was also Palestinian. The big question would be how candid would the people be, given the paranoia about Muslims and the legitimate fear they’d have about saying something that could get them in trouble. When I was researching the history of Gary, many ethnics with relatives living “behind the iron curtain” (as Winston Churchill put it) were unusually close-mouthed even about the most innocuous things.
John and Doris Ban, looking great despite probably being around 80, visited the Archives to finalize plans for a June 10 workshop for senior citizens interested in the history of Northwest Indiana. I’m scheduled to talk to them about my postwar Shavings entitled “The Aga of Anxiety: Daily Life in the Calumet Region, 1945-1953.” I’m looking forward to getting them to read excerpts. I’ll get a box lunch featuring a chicken salad sandwich for my trouble. A former Education professor, John was head of the Faculty Organization several times. Soft spoken but once a tremendous athlete, years ago we both were in a campus ping pong tournament. He claimed he hadn’t played in years but came from behind to beat me. Then he pulled out of the rest of the tournament due to a bad back. For years I teased him, saying “If you were going to forfeit your next match, the least you could have done is let me win our match.”
I got a rightwing email claiming that Barack Obama had ordered the post office to commemorate Eid al-Fitr the Muslim version of Christmas that occurs at the end of Ramadan. I discovered on a site called Hoax Slayer that such a stamp has been in existence since 2001 and Obama had nothing to do with it. Here is part of the hateful group email:
“REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of Pan Am Flight 103!
REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of the World Trade Center in 1993!
REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of the Marine Barracks in Lebanon !
REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of the military Barracks in Saudi Arabia !
REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of the American Embassies in Africa !
REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of the USS COLE!
REMEMBER the MUSLIM attack on 9/11/2001 !
REMEMBER all the AMERICAN lives that were lost in those vicious MUSLIM attacks!
REMEMBER to adamantly & vocally BOYCOTT this stamp, when you are purchasing your stamps at the post office.
They (MUSLIMS) don't even believe in Christ, & they're getting their own Christmas stamp! BUT, don't dare to dream of posting the Ten Commandments on federal property! This is truly UNBELIEVABLE !!!”
The folks that spread such hateful lies dare to call themselves patriots.
My back, which has been bothering me all week, is much improved, but now I have a rash from where I have been applying (perhaps too vigorously) Ben-Gay and a heating pad. I wish I could trade in my body for a better model. At least my PSA reading was normal. Dr. Quackenbush thought maybe I have shingles, which is a virus that can attack nerves and then manifests itself in a rash. That makes sense. Unfortunately not much can be done to treat it if not caught quickly. Like a cold virus it just has to run its course, which can take some time.
Toni went out to dinner with Angie and the kids, so I could play music loud. Right now the five CDs I have ready to go are by Frank Black, MGMT, Owl City, the Donnas and “The Crow” soundtrack. I got well into Kurt Vonnegut’s “Timequake.” The author has such a splendid wit. I’ve read “Breakfast of Champions” at least five times. In “Timequake” Vonnegut claims most marriages go bust because extended families are largely a thing of the past. He adds that what women want are a whole lot more people to talk to. He also writes: “I am told there is a photograph often used in textbooks that supposedly shows immigrants disembarking here, but actually they are getting on a ship to go back to where they came from.” Wonder if that is true. Must ask Ray Smock. The book is quite autobiographical, and Vonnegut reveals that his two greatest heroes are socialists, playwright George Bernard Shaw and five-time Presidential candidate Eugene Victor Debs, whose famous line he quotes: While there is a lower class, I am in it, while there is a criminal element, I am of it; while there is a soul in prison, I am not free.”
In the news: Goldman Sachs executives took a grilling from Senator Levin’s subcommittee. The S.O.B.s still won’t admit there was anything wrong with selling short on stocks they were telling their customers to buy. Republicans are having trouble pretending to be for reform yet refusing to allow it to come up for open debate. Arizona’s Governor Jan Brewer is taking heat for signing a bill demanding that police stop suspicious people (read MEXICANS) and demand that they produce papers proving that they are not illegal immigrants. Demonstrations have taken place, and her opponents are vowing to organize boycotts similar to when groups would not hold conferences in Chicago in the wake of the police riot at the 1968 Democratic convention.
Today’s Times had an article about a Muslim school in Merrillville called Avicenna Academy. About 60 students go there in grades up to fifth, and they are planning to add sixth grade next year. In addition to regular subjects kids have lessons in Islamic Studies and Arabic. The school is named for Abu Ali Sina, an Arabian physician and philosopher who lived a thousand years ago. I’d love to put out a Steel Shavings issue on Muslims in Northwest Indiana. Quite a few attend classes at IUN, and it would be great to interview such folks as the woman who manages the gas station at Ogden Dunes or the Palestinians who own Four Brothers Grocery on Twenty-First Avenue in Gary. When I started at IUN, there was a popular student government president named Sami Jadallah. One of my old softball teammates named Mustafe was also Palestinian. The big question would be how candid would the people be, given the paranoia about Muslims and the legitimate fear they’d have about saying something that could get them in trouble. When I was researching the history of Gary, many ethnics with relatives living “behind the iron curtain” (as Winston Churchill put it) were unusually close-mouthed even about the most innocuous things.
John and Doris Ban, looking great despite probably being around 80, visited the Archives to finalize plans for a June 10 workshop for senior citizens interested in the history of Northwest Indiana. I’m scheduled to talk to them about my postwar Shavings entitled “The Aga of Anxiety: Daily Life in the Calumet Region, 1945-1953.” I’m looking forward to getting them to read excerpts. I’ll get a box lunch featuring a chicken salad sandwich for my trouble. A former Education professor, John was head of the Faculty Organization several times. Soft spoken but once a tremendous athlete, years ago we both were in a campus ping pong tournament. He claimed he hadn’t played in years but came from behind to beat me. Then he pulled out of the rest of the tournament due to a bad back. For years I teased him, saying “If you were going to forfeit your next match, the least you could have done is let me win our match.”
I got a rightwing email claiming that Barack Obama had ordered the post office to commemorate Eid al-Fitr the Muslim version of Christmas that occurs at the end of Ramadan. I discovered on a site called Hoax Slayer that such a stamp has been in existence since 2001 and Obama had nothing to do with it. Here is part of the hateful group email:
“REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of Pan Am Flight 103!
REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of the World Trade Center in 1993!
REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of the Marine Barracks in Lebanon !
REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of the military Barracks in Saudi Arabia !
REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of the American Embassies in Africa !
REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of the USS COLE!
REMEMBER the MUSLIM attack on 9/11/2001 !
REMEMBER all the AMERICAN lives that were lost in those vicious MUSLIM attacks!
REMEMBER to adamantly & vocally BOYCOTT this stamp, when you are purchasing your stamps at the post office.
They (MUSLIMS) don't even believe in Christ, & they're getting their own Christmas stamp! BUT, don't dare to dream of posting the Ten Commandments on federal property! This is truly UNBELIEVABLE !!!”
The folks that spread such hateful lies dare to call themselves patriots.
Monday, April 26, 2010
I Do, I Do
Toni and I saw the play “I Do, I Do: A Musical about Marriage” on Saturday evening with the Hagelbergs in Munster. Beforehand, we ate at a nearby Mediterranean restaurant (Mishkenut) run by Palestinians that served delicious food at very low prices (my shish kabob was $10,99 and could have been enough for two. The place doesn’t serve liquor, so I wonder if they’ll make it financially. My back was really sore, so I wasn’t very good company. I noticed the radio was on near the kitchen, and I heard familiar songs by Owl City and Phoenix. The station was probably WXRT. “I Do, I Do” was witty and kept me awake most of the time. It had a cast of just two and just one set – a bedroom, living room and focused on married life episodes over a half-century, beginning in 1895. The songs were snappy although none was memorable with the possible exception of “My Cup Runneth Over.” On Google I learned that it opened on Broadway in 1966 and starred Mary Martin and Robert Preston (the “Music Man” guy who sang “Gary, Indiana, Gary, Indiana”). Most of the audience was older than me probably and very appreciative.
Got in seven board games at Dave’s on Sunday. My two victories were both in St. Petersburg, which until recently Tom Wade dominated. Dave won three games, including Air Lords, invented by a friend of ours who changed the rules several times in an effort to get it marketed. We like the original version best, however, and have a homemade board so we can play it. Dave put the Cubs game on, a rout of the Brewers to complete a three-game sweep in Milwaukee. In a bold and somewhat desperate move manager Lou Paniella has moved Carlos Zambrano to the bullpen to be a set-up man. So far, so good.
Wrote down some things to include in my Wednesday talk to the Hobart Kiwanis, to wit: Steel Shavings magazine started out in connection with having students do family oral history projects and then publishing the best of them. Most articles focused on the immigrant experience since few Region residents have been here more than three generations. One early issue focused on Latinos. Others centered on themes within specific time periods, such as Depression experiences, WW II Homefront activities, the Postwar Age of Anxiety, Relationships between the Sexes during the Teen Years of the 1950s, and Racial Tensions during the 1960s. Doing family histories can teach students about both local and national historical trends. I have edited special issues on Portage, Cedar Lake, and Gary, with the dominant emphasis being family life and social change over time. Social history encompasses sports, work experiences, school experiences, popular culture fads and fashions, and leisure activities of young and old (i.e., square dancing), and I have put out issues on all those subjects. Starting in the 1990s I gave students the option to write about themselves, looking back on memorable moments as well as keeping journals of day-to-day activities (everything from working out to making out). These stories often provided insights into what I call the contemporary history of adolescence although at IUN there also were many nontraditional students writing about the perils of married life and encounters with death and illness. One article, entitled “Emptying Nest,” dealt with taking one’s youngest child off to college.
If I had a future issue devoted to the social history of Hobart, one subject could be how Lake George has changed over time. Another could explore how bowling alleys have evolved. At Cressmoor Lanes, where I bowl in the Sheet and Tin league, players used to keep score themselves and tip pinsetters by putting a dollar bill in one of the holes at the end of the night. Other topics deserving of coverage include July Fourth parades and fireworks displays, the unique Art Theater, and Hobart’s bar and restaurant scene (Rosie O’Grady’s is now Cagney’s). I’d love to see a history of the Hobart Jaycee Fest where in the Strack and Van Til parking lot I have seen Blue Oyster Cult, Cracker, the Smithereens, and Joan Jett perform, as well as my son’s band Voodoo Chili. Stories about Hobart social activities have appeared in most issues. In the Nineties issue, entitled “Shards and Midden Heaps” (a phrase borrowed from my favorite Region author Jean Shepherd) there are eight pages alone devoted to Brickie Pride, the football program under Coach Don Howell and three humorous remembrances of high school days. I’ll conclude by persuading six people to read excerpts from Ryan Maicki’s humorous remembrances of his high school days, entitled “Bad Seeds.” Volunteers will get to keep a copy of the issue.
Jeff Renn, who invited me to speak to the Kiwanians, is one of my favorite former students. Going into his final year, he was the second leading scorer on IUN’s basketball team. Then some really talented players were recruited, and Jeff was happy letting others take most shots so long as it helped the team. He’s a real class act and invited Toni and me to his graduation party at the Patio. I invited Fred McColly to be my guest and read part of Ryan’s “Bad Seeds” when I talk to the Kiwanians. His latest Facebook message deals with a story that made yesterday’s news shows. He writes, “Eggs and smoke bombs in the Ukrainian parliament over an extension of the Russian lease on the naval base at Sevastopol...I have to admire their editorial elan...perhaps bottle rockets in the imperial Senate would enliven public interest in the legislative process here.” One Ukrainian legislator was fending off eggs with an umbrella.
Finished Anne Tyler’s “Noah’s Compass” – the title is from a question Liam’s young granddaughter asks him about Noah’s Ark. Noah didn’t need a compass because he really wasn’t going anywhere, just trying to float above water. As in many of Tyler’s books, the main male characters are less interesting than the women in their lives. Finished it and picked up Kurt Vonnegut’s 1997 novel “Timequake,” in which people (including one of the author’s doppelgangers, Kilgore Trout) are thrust back in time ten years and doomed to repeat every thing they did once again. Vonnegut claims ‘Timequake” would be his final novel since at 74 he was way past his prime and with his older brother having died, “Now I don’t have anybody to show off for anymore.” Vonnegut constantly belittles those with literary pretensions and writes: “If you really want to hurt your parents, and you don’t have nerve enough to be a homosexual, the least you can do is go into the arts.” At one point in this semiautobiographical novel he writes: “You want to know why I don’t have AIDS, why I'm not HIV-positive like so many other people? I don’t fuck around. It’s as simple as that.”
I have two new Facebook friends, Lorraine Todd-Shearer and Colin Kern. I was surprised but pleased that they requested hooking up with me. Lorraine is married to former Voodoo Chili drummer John and is one of my favorite dance partners. She is always upbeat and fun to be with. She was at Marianne’s Superbowl party and had dinner with Dave, Darcy, Marianne, and me prior to the Steely Dan concert a few months ago. Colin is the son of friend and former colleague Paul Kern. I knew him when he was a kid and would talk to him at some length when he’d answer the phone when I called Paul. He is a graduate student at the University of Delaware, where I once applied for a teaching position. The school is a traditional rival of Bucknell, where I was an undergraduate. I applied for a job there, too, and never heard back from the History Department. I had sent them copies of my books “Jacob A. Riis and the American City” and “City of the Century” and told them they could donate them to Bucknell’s library when they were through with them. Some months later, the librarian wrote me a note thanking me for the donation. Looking back, I am glad I stayed at IUN.
Got in seven board games at Dave’s on Sunday. My two victories were both in St. Petersburg, which until recently Tom Wade dominated. Dave won three games, including Air Lords, invented by a friend of ours who changed the rules several times in an effort to get it marketed. We like the original version best, however, and have a homemade board so we can play it. Dave put the Cubs game on, a rout of the Brewers to complete a three-game sweep in Milwaukee. In a bold and somewhat desperate move manager Lou Paniella has moved Carlos Zambrano to the bullpen to be a set-up man. So far, so good.
Wrote down some things to include in my Wednesday talk to the Hobart Kiwanis, to wit: Steel Shavings magazine started out in connection with having students do family oral history projects and then publishing the best of them. Most articles focused on the immigrant experience since few Region residents have been here more than three generations. One early issue focused on Latinos. Others centered on themes within specific time periods, such as Depression experiences, WW II Homefront activities, the Postwar Age of Anxiety, Relationships between the Sexes during the Teen Years of the 1950s, and Racial Tensions during the 1960s. Doing family histories can teach students about both local and national historical trends. I have edited special issues on Portage, Cedar Lake, and Gary, with the dominant emphasis being family life and social change over time. Social history encompasses sports, work experiences, school experiences, popular culture fads and fashions, and leisure activities of young and old (i.e., square dancing), and I have put out issues on all those subjects. Starting in the 1990s I gave students the option to write about themselves, looking back on memorable moments as well as keeping journals of day-to-day activities (everything from working out to making out). These stories often provided insights into what I call the contemporary history of adolescence although at IUN there also were many nontraditional students writing about the perils of married life and encounters with death and illness. One article, entitled “Emptying Nest,” dealt with taking one’s youngest child off to college.
If I had a future issue devoted to the social history of Hobart, one subject could be how Lake George has changed over time. Another could explore how bowling alleys have evolved. At Cressmoor Lanes, where I bowl in the Sheet and Tin league, players used to keep score themselves and tip pinsetters by putting a dollar bill in one of the holes at the end of the night. Other topics deserving of coverage include July Fourth parades and fireworks displays, the unique Art Theater, and Hobart’s bar and restaurant scene (Rosie O’Grady’s is now Cagney’s). I’d love to see a history of the Hobart Jaycee Fest where in the Strack and Van Til parking lot I have seen Blue Oyster Cult, Cracker, the Smithereens, and Joan Jett perform, as well as my son’s band Voodoo Chili. Stories about Hobart social activities have appeared in most issues. In the Nineties issue, entitled “Shards and Midden Heaps” (a phrase borrowed from my favorite Region author Jean Shepherd) there are eight pages alone devoted to Brickie Pride, the football program under Coach Don Howell and three humorous remembrances of high school days. I’ll conclude by persuading six people to read excerpts from Ryan Maicki’s humorous remembrances of his high school days, entitled “Bad Seeds.” Volunteers will get to keep a copy of the issue.
Jeff Renn, who invited me to speak to the Kiwanians, is one of my favorite former students. Going into his final year, he was the second leading scorer on IUN’s basketball team. Then some really talented players were recruited, and Jeff was happy letting others take most shots so long as it helped the team. He’s a real class act and invited Toni and me to his graduation party at the Patio. I invited Fred McColly to be my guest and read part of Ryan’s “Bad Seeds” when I talk to the Kiwanians. His latest Facebook message deals with a story that made yesterday’s news shows. He writes, “Eggs and smoke bombs in the Ukrainian parliament over an extension of the Russian lease on the naval base at Sevastopol...I have to admire their editorial elan...perhaps bottle rockets in the imperial Senate would enliven public interest in the legislative process here.” One Ukrainian legislator was fending off eggs with an umbrella.
Finished Anne Tyler’s “Noah’s Compass” – the title is from a question Liam’s young granddaughter asks him about Noah’s Ark. Noah didn’t need a compass because he really wasn’t going anywhere, just trying to float above water. As in many of Tyler’s books, the main male characters are less interesting than the women in their lives. Finished it and picked up Kurt Vonnegut’s 1997 novel “Timequake,” in which people (including one of the author’s doppelgangers, Kilgore Trout) are thrust back in time ten years and doomed to repeat every thing they did once again. Vonnegut claims ‘Timequake” would be his final novel since at 74 he was way past his prime and with his older brother having died, “Now I don’t have anybody to show off for anymore.” Vonnegut constantly belittles those with literary pretensions and writes: “If you really want to hurt your parents, and you don’t have nerve enough to be a homosexual, the least you can do is go into the arts.” At one point in this semiautobiographical novel he writes: “You want to know why I don’t have AIDS, why I'm not HIV-positive like so many other people? I don’t fuck around. It’s as simple as that.”
I have two new Facebook friends, Lorraine Todd-Shearer and Colin Kern. I was surprised but pleased that they requested hooking up with me. Lorraine is married to former Voodoo Chili drummer John and is one of my favorite dance partners. She is always upbeat and fun to be with. She was at Marianne’s Superbowl party and had dinner with Dave, Darcy, Marianne, and me prior to the Steely Dan concert a few months ago. Colin is the son of friend and former colleague Paul Kern. I knew him when he was a kid and would talk to him at some length when he’d answer the phone when I called Paul. He is a graduate student at the University of Delaware, where I once applied for a teaching position. The school is a traditional rival of Bucknell, where I was an undergraduate. I applied for a job there, too, and never heard back from the History Department. I had sent them copies of my books “Jacob A. Riis and the American City” and “City of the Century” and told them they could donate them to Bucknell’s library when they were through with them. Some months later, the librarian wrote me a note thanking me for the donation. Looking back, I am glad I stayed at IUN.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Aylesworth Musical Program
Last evening I attended Aylesworth Elementary School’s spring musical program featuring international folk songs performed by second graders, including granddaughter Becca, who was really into it. The opening song, “What a Wonderful World,” set the tone and reminded me of excellent recorded versions by Louis Armstrong and Joey Ramone. Becca was one of four people selected to act out a Zimbabwe greeting song called “Sorida.” She told me afterwards that her favorite number was “Australia’s on the Wallaby.” The final part of the program featured fourth graders playing instruments called recorders, which were similar to flutes. The place was packed, and I noticed that Portage seemed much more diverse racially than when Phil and Dave were in school 30 years ago.
Radio sports jocks were salivating over all the stuff going on last night on TV, including the Black Hawks, the Bulls, the Cubs, the White Sox, and the NFL draft. I watched the anemic Cubs lose to the Mets but was happy my Philadelphia teams, the Phillies and the Flyers, won. Jamie Moyer, age 47, pitched great, and in hockey the Flyers took their initial Stanley Cup series from the Jersey Devils.
Between the road trip and work around the house my back has been bothering me, so this morning I paid a visit to chiropractor Manuel Kazanas, whose adjustments have been godsends on various occasions when I have thrown my back out. One time right before heading to Saudi Arabia for a three-week teaching stint I tried to get in too much yard work and could barely move until many worked his magic. I probably go to him no more than one or two times a tear, but he never pressures me to schedule a return visit.
WDRV (97.1, “The Drive”) has been playing classic rock songs from A to Z. On the way to Manuel’s I heard “Born to Be Wild” and “Born to Run.” After the adjustment I was back in the car and heard “The Boxer” and “Boys Are Back in Town.” Taking boxes for packing to the car, I discovered a slow leak in a back tire and got it fixed (it picked up a nail) for ten bucks (plus five dollar tip) at a place in Lake Station. WDVR was just starting on the C’s (“Cadillac Ranch”) by the time it was ready.
When I attend my fiftieth high school reunion in October, perhaps I’ll give a humorous talk on girls I had crushes on, starting with Judy Jenkins, Carol Schuman, and Pam Tucker. I originally thought I’d do the historian thing and sum up some of the key events that occurred during our senior year in politics (West Virginia primary), civil rights (sit-ins), world affairs (Castro), and popular culture (the twist). On the sports talk radio show “Mike and Mike” the two guys frequently use the term “man crush” to describe admiring someone excessively and wanting to be their friend (“Seinfeld” did an episode where Jerry had a man crush on Mets first baseman Keith Hernandez and was jealous when Keith wanted to have a date with Elaine). The guy in school I wanted so badly to be friends with was Dick Garretson, a great, zany guy. We were friends but I wasn’t as close to him as, say, Bob Reller or Buck Elliott was.
Former student Jeff Renn wants me to speak to members of the Hobart Kiwanis Club next Wednesday at 7:30 in the morning. I’m torn between a serious topic based on my Gary book or something spicier, such as “Social Life in Hobart,” featuring bars, July Fourth celebrations, bowling alleys, sports, high school high jinx, and the Jaycee Fest. I did something similar in Steve McShane’s class (see my February 26 blog called “Indiana History”) that seemed to work.
Radio sports jocks were salivating over all the stuff going on last night on TV, including the Black Hawks, the Bulls, the Cubs, the White Sox, and the NFL draft. I watched the anemic Cubs lose to the Mets but was happy my Philadelphia teams, the Phillies and the Flyers, won. Jamie Moyer, age 47, pitched great, and in hockey the Flyers took their initial Stanley Cup series from the Jersey Devils.
Between the road trip and work around the house my back has been bothering me, so this morning I paid a visit to chiropractor Manuel Kazanas, whose adjustments have been godsends on various occasions when I have thrown my back out. One time right before heading to Saudi Arabia for a three-week teaching stint I tried to get in too much yard work and could barely move until many worked his magic. I probably go to him no more than one or two times a tear, but he never pressures me to schedule a return visit.
WDRV (97.1, “The Drive”) has been playing classic rock songs from A to Z. On the way to Manuel’s I heard “Born to Be Wild” and “Born to Run.” After the adjustment I was back in the car and heard “The Boxer” and “Boys Are Back in Town.” Taking boxes for packing to the car, I discovered a slow leak in a back tire and got it fixed (it picked up a nail) for ten bucks (plus five dollar tip) at a place in Lake Station. WDVR was just starting on the C’s (“Cadillac Ranch”) by the time it was ready.
When I attend my fiftieth high school reunion in October, perhaps I’ll give a humorous talk on girls I had crushes on, starting with Judy Jenkins, Carol Schuman, and Pam Tucker. I originally thought I’d do the historian thing and sum up some of the key events that occurred during our senior year in politics (West Virginia primary), civil rights (sit-ins), world affairs (Castro), and popular culture (the twist). On the sports talk radio show “Mike and Mike” the two guys frequently use the term “man crush” to describe admiring someone excessively and wanting to be their friend (“Seinfeld” did an episode where Jerry had a man crush on Mets first baseman Keith Hernandez and was jealous when Keith wanted to have a date with Elaine). The guy in school I wanted so badly to be friends with was Dick Garretson, a great, zany guy. We were friends but I wasn’t as close to him as, say, Bob Reller or Buck Elliott was.
Former student Jeff Renn wants me to speak to members of the Hobart Kiwanis Club next Wednesday at 7:30 in the morning. I’m torn between a serious topic based on my Gary book or something spicier, such as “Social Life in Hobart,” featuring bars, July Fourth celebrations, bowling alleys, sports, high school high jinx, and the Jaycee Fest. I did something similar in Steve McShane’s class (see my February 26 blog called “Indiana History”) that seemed to work.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Earth Day
Today is the fortieth anniversary of Earth Day. Back in 1970 some activists suspected that it was an establishment plot to divert young people from more meaningful protest activities. All in all, I think it is a great idea although recently some are touting nuclear power plants as a “green” alternative to dirtier power plants. Over the years the TV show “Sesame Street” did much to make kids aware of the importance of protecting the planet environmentally. It is rare to see someone litter the road with fast food wrappers and other such trash. Recycling goes on in most areas; and where once we would have put an old TV out in the trash, now we’ll take it to a more appropriate location. In a more cynical vein Fred McColly on Facebook commented thusly on a New York Times article about Earth day being big business: "i simply adore the way capitalism comoditizes everything it touches...the environmentally aware deformed into shills."
On Tuesday a grad student in Sociology from Loyola, Victoria Brockett, was looking through my Sixties Steel Shavings on Race Relations. She has an ambitious project in mind having to do with suburban racial attitudes. I gave her copies of my Gary and Portage issues and warned her that it’s very hard to get people to be candid about the subject. As in many matters, actions are more important than words. She seemed very competent and the theory-based analysis that she explained to me went over my head. I told her that my research was more anecdotal than theoretical. Archives volunteer Maurice Yancy talked to her for quite a while. He’s good at having visitors sign in and put down how we might get back to them. Last week, Steve told me, Ray Boomhower from the Indiana Historical Society was doing research on Congressman Jim Jontz, whose papers are in the Archives, and asked about me. Another recent visitor named Luz is daughter-in-law Delia’s cousin and hopes to do an oral history of Puerto Rican-Americans living in Northwest Indiana. In 1948 U.S. Steel recruited workers from Puerto Rico and housed some of them initially in Pullman cars.
Yesterday I stayed home and went through old albums and CDs with Toni in preparation for our move. I had no recollection of buying two Talking Heads albums or the Psychedelic Furs. I’ve heard Workingman’s dead and the Stones Psychedelic album “Their Satanic Majesties Request” might bring a high price on the Internet. I am going to part with most albums (many I have on CD), but some, such as the Shoes albums, I decided to keep. . On the other hand, I kept almost all my CDs. I even had a Four Tops album signed by guys from Boys Village of Maryland, a school for delinquents where I taught for three summers. I’d let them play it if they behaved themselves. There were some choir robes in the closet that they’d put on before breaking out into Motown-type routines.
Today is also Take Our Daughters and Sons to Work Day. Michelle Obama is hosting a function at the White House. I can’t recall having such a practice when my kids were young, but it seems to be a good idea – for most jobs. A couple months ago, an air traffic controller at JFK Airport had his kid giving instructions to pilots that they were safe to take off. A couple years ago, Jonathyne Briggs had his daughter with him throughout the day.
Got the following email titled “Blast from the Past” from Joe Slacian: Dr. Lane: I don't know if you remember be, but I had you for a few classes at IUN back in the late '70s. In fact, we worked together on the Phoenix when you were advisor. Got a phone call tonight from another former student, Terry Helton, so it got me thinking about those days. Can't believe it's been 30-plus years. Anyhow, just wanted to drop you a line and wish you and the family the best. I'm the managing editor of the newspaper here in Wabash. Jody and I have been here for about 26 years now. We've raised two girls, one graduating next week from St. Francis and the other getting ready to head off next fall to Holy Cross in South Bend.” I replied: Nice hearing from you. I remember you well and the Phoenix experience with pleasure. I saw John Petalas two weeks ago at a political function and am in touch with the Nommensen brothers. I’m glad you pursued a career in journalism. Send me your mailing address and I mail you the latest issue of Steel Shavings, which I still edit. Fondly, Jim Lane.” If he replies, I’ll probably throw in a current copy of the Northwest Phoenix. Joe was a memorable character who basically was in charge of putting the school newspaper together although John Petalas was the nominal editor and had the final say. One time Mike Nommensen drew a controversial cartoon that Petalas nixed, much to my ultimate relief since it probably would have got me in trouble as advisor. I wisely refrained from injecting my opinion in such matters even though some suspected otherwise.
On Tuesday a grad student in Sociology from Loyola, Victoria Brockett, was looking through my Sixties Steel Shavings on Race Relations. She has an ambitious project in mind having to do with suburban racial attitudes. I gave her copies of my Gary and Portage issues and warned her that it’s very hard to get people to be candid about the subject. As in many matters, actions are more important than words. She seemed very competent and the theory-based analysis that she explained to me went over my head. I told her that my research was more anecdotal than theoretical. Archives volunteer Maurice Yancy talked to her for quite a while. He’s good at having visitors sign in and put down how we might get back to them. Last week, Steve told me, Ray Boomhower from the Indiana Historical Society was doing research on Congressman Jim Jontz, whose papers are in the Archives, and asked about me. Another recent visitor named Luz is daughter-in-law Delia’s cousin and hopes to do an oral history of Puerto Rican-Americans living in Northwest Indiana. In 1948 U.S. Steel recruited workers from Puerto Rico and housed some of them initially in Pullman cars.
Yesterday I stayed home and went through old albums and CDs with Toni in preparation for our move. I had no recollection of buying two Talking Heads albums or the Psychedelic Furs. I’ve heard Workingman’s dead and the Stones Psychedelic album “Their Satanic Majesties Request” might bring a high price on the Internet. I am going to part with most albums (many I have on CD), but some, such as the Shoes albums, I decided to keep. . On the other hand, I kept almost all my CDs. I even had a Four Tops album signed by guys from Boys Village of Maryland, a school for delinquents where I taught for three summers. I’d let them play it if they behaved themselves. There were some choir robes in the closet that they’d put on before breaking out into Motown-type routines.
Today is also Take Our Daughters and Sons to Work Day. Michelle Obama is hosting a function at the White House. I can’t recall having such a practice when my kids were young, but it seems to be a good idea – for most jobs. A couple months ago, an air traffic controller at JFK Airport had his kid giving instructions to pilots that they were safe to take off. A couple years ago, Jonathyne Briggs had his daughter with him throughout the day.
Got the following email titled “Blast from the Past” from Joe Slacian: Dr. Lane: I don't know if you remember be, but I had you for a few classes at IUN back in the late '70s. In fact, we worked together on the Phoenix when you were advisor. Got a phone call tonight from another former student, Terry Helton, so it got me thinking about those days. Can't believe it's been 30-plus years. Anyhow, just wanted to drop you a line and wish you and the family the best. I'm the managing editor of the newspaper here in Wabash. Jody and I have been here for about 26 years now. We've raised two girls, one graduating next week from St. Francis and the other getting ready to head off next fall to Holy Cross in South Bend.” I replied: Nice hearing from you. I remember you well and the Phoenix experience with pleasure. I saw John Petalas two weeks ago at a political function and am in touch with the Nommensen brothers. I’m glad you pursued a career in journalism. Send me your mailing address and I mail you the latest issue of Steel Shavings, which I still edit. Fondly, Jim Lane.” If he replies, I’ll probably throw in a current copy of the Northwest Phoenix. Joe was a memorable character who basically was in charge of putting the school newspaper together although John Petalas was the nominal editor and had the final say. One time Mike Nommensen drew a controversial cartoon that Petalas nixed, much to my ultimate relief since it probably would have got me in trouble as advisor. I wisely refrained from injecting my opinion in such matters even though some suspected otherwise.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Wally's World
I learned that 89 year-old sports legend Wally McCormick died. He was a great athlete in his youth, but I knew him mainly as a referee and an irrepressible television host. When I played for Porter Acres softball team, Wally often umpired the game. We looked like a scraggily bunch of hippies, but Wally warmed to us. It was impossible to rattle him or stop from grinning at his observations, especially in tense situations. If you questioned a call, he’d say something like, “Maybe I got it wrong, I’ll try to get it right next time.” He once asked my eight year-old son if he was batting clean-up today. He did eighth grade basketball games and high school football games. Once I observed him placing the football down and players on both teams laughing at something he said. That was Wally in a nutshell. Five times, after the publication of a new issue of Steel Shavings magazine he had me on his cable TV show “Wally’s World” with co-host Tom Higgins. He was a veritable sports history encyclopedia, and inevitably the conversation got around to his beloved Emerson High School or how Hoosier Hysteria lost something when Indiana went to a class system instead of one big tournament. He loved quoting from his favorite movie “It’s a Wonderful Life” and with his infectious grin and quick wit was a joy to be around. As Jim Peters noted in a Times column, Wally ended his show with the following poem: “"May the road rise up to meet you. May the wind always be at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face, and rains fall soft upon your fields, and until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of His hand." It sounds hokey but it was vintage Wally, a unique free spirit. Peters also claimed that if a football coach ran up the score against a hapless opponent, Wally might throw a flag and call back a TD as a subtle warning to knock it off.
Rolling Stone magazine has a new issue featuring 40 reasons to be excited about today’s music. The Black-Eyed Peas, not my favorite group, are on the cover, and there’s a big article on MGMT. One of the 40 reasons is that Chuck Berry plays once a month at his Blueberry Hill Restaurant and club in St. Louis. We were there once with Kirsten Bayer and hubby Ed Petras but not when he was playing. Another “reason” was tribute bands that are better than the real thing. In fact, there’s a guy who fronted a grateful Dead tribute band who is now playing with Phil Lesh and other members of Further.
Toni did yeoman work fixing our phones, replacing the fluorescent light switch in the bathroom, getting three of our four TVs working again, and ridding the kitchen of the rotting food smell, all in the aftermath of the house being struck by lightning during our absence. The telephone man showed how the outside box was shattered and parts of it thrown 50 after being hit. Had we been on the phone when the power surge happened, we could have been badly hurt.
It was a bad week-end for the Cubs, losing twice to the anemic Astros. When the wind is blowing in, Cubs batters seemingly can’t adjust and still go for the fences. I won two of five board games Sunday, Acquire (drawing two lucky tiles at perfect times) and Small World (in a rout – none of us has played enough to thoroughly understand strategy). Talked with a couple high school friends about seeing Bob Reller and wife Karen. We all shook hands upon our arrival but hugged upon leaving. In fact, Rel and Karen stayed outside to wave to us after we circled their cul de sac, a nice touch.
I sent Salem Press my choices for their short review series, offering to do either a biography of rocker Little Richard, a book about Dundalk, MD, called “Roots of Steel: Boom and Bust in an American Mill Town,” or “The Big Burn: Teddy Roosevelt and the Fire That Saved America.” I had no idea what the latter was about but discovered that it traces the early days of the Forest Service and deals with a 1910 fire that spread over 3 million acres in the Northern Rockies.
Got an email from writer Clay Moyle, who read my article about boxer Tony Zale and wanted to know if I intended expending it into a book (the answer is no). He is thinking of doing one but did not wish to compete with me if I was doing one. He inquired about Zale’s relatives, and I mentioned the nephew who is an eye doctor in Merrillville and that he could put him in touch with others living in Michigan.
Chancellor Bruce Bergland, who is retiring in May, hosted his final emeritus luncheon that included chicken, noodles, salad, good bread, and cake for dessert. Among the attendees were historians Fred Chary, Ron Cohen, and Bill Neil, who mentioned that when he first taught at IU’s Gary Extension it was located across from a bookie joint. Old friends John Ban (Education) and Leroy Peterson (Math) were also on hand. Told Bill that I had run into Angie Komenich Saturday at the Portage library, but she wasn’t coming because she was still getting over the death of her husband. Bruce asked each of us to identify ourselves, and Biology prof Tim Stabler mentioned being a docent at the Museum of Science and Industry. Mike Certa and his wife are ushers and get to see plays free in Chicago. Mary Russell just returned from England barely ahead of the volcano ash. Recently retired Marty Zusman said he was looking forward to doing some fishing. As Liam, the sexagenarian protagonist in Anne Tyler’s “Noah’s Compass” said about winding down in retirement, “How to fill hours. Just proceed one day at a time, is all.” Bruce mentioned that the state legislature approved $33 million for a new building to replace Tamarack but that Governor Mitch Daniels has not released the money. I asked whether plans to make the stretch of 35th Avenue between IUN and Ivy Tech into an academic corridor died once Mayor Scott King left office, and Bruce replied, “If they aren’t dead, they’re barely on life support.” Ran into Jonathyne afterwards and introduced him to Leroy, whom I said was an old poker opponent. We often played at Lew Ciminillo’s house in Glen Park, and his wife would make us sloppy Joes. Fred Chary was a regular, and whenever he got a good hand he’d start rocking in his chair. Snuck Jonathyne out a piece of cake from where the luncheon took place.
I heard on the radio that tomorrow supposedly is National Weed Day – as in pot. The reason it occurs on 4/20 supposedly is because that is the time in the afternoon when students are out of school and able to have a SAFO get together – as in Smoke a Fat One. It kind of like the word Hoosiers: nobody is exactly clear as to the designation.
I went to see “Date Night” with Tina Fey and Steve Carell as a married couple trying to put more spark in their lives. The plot was contrived, but there were some funny moments, such as when the Fosters are trading lines on what other couples eating dinner might be saying to each other. A shirtless Mark Wahlberg has some good lines and a girlfriend named Whippit.
Rolling Stone magazine has a new issue featuring 40 reasons to be excited about today’s music. The Black-Eyed Peas, not my favorite group, are on the cover, and there’s a big article on MGMT. One of the 40 reasons is that Chuck Berry plays once a month at his Blueberry Hill Restaurant and club in St. Louis. We were there once with Kirsten Bayer and hubby Ed Petras but not when he was playing. Another “reason” was tribute bands that are better than the real thing. In fact, there’s a guy who fronted a grateful Dead tribute band who is now playing with Phil Lesh and other members of Further.
Toni did yeoman work fixing our phones, replacing the fluorescent light switch in the bathroom, getting three of our four TVs working again, and ridding the kitchen of the rotting food smell, all in the aftermath of the house being struck by lightning during our absence. The telephone man showed how the outside box was shattered and parts of it thrown 50 after being hit. Had we been on the phone when the power surge happened, we could have been badly hurt.
It was a bad week-end for the Cubs, losing twice to the anemic Astros. When the wind is blowing in, Cubs batters seemingly can’t adjust and still go for the fences. I won two of five board games Sunday, Acquire (drawing two lucky tiles at perfect times) and Small World (in a rout – none of us has played enough to thoroughly understand strategy). Talked with a couple high school friends about seeing Bob Reller and wife Karen. We all shook hands upon our arrival but hugged upon leaving. In fact, Rel and Karen stayed outside to wave to us after we circled their cul de sac, a nice touch.
I sent Salem Press my choices for their short review series, offering to do either a biography of rocker Little Richard, a book about Dundalk, MD, called “Roots of Steel: Boom and Bust in an American Mill Town,” or “The Big Burn: Teddy Roosevelt and the Fire That Saved America.” I had no idea what the latter was about but discovered that it traces the early days of the Forest Service and deals with a 1910 fire that spread over 3 million acres in the Northern Rockies.
Got an email from writer Clay Moyle, who read my article about boxer Tony Zale and wanted to know if I intended expending it into a book (the answer is no). He is thinking of doing one but did not wish to compete with me if I was doing one. He inquired about Zale’s relatives, and I mentioned the nephew who is an eye doctor in Merrillville and that he could put him in touch with others living in Michigan.
Chancellor Bruce Bergland, who is retiring in May, hosted his final emeritus luncheon that included chicken, noodles, salad, good bread, and cake for dessert. Among the attendees were historians Fred Chary, Ron Cohen, and Bill Neil, who mentioned that when he first taught at IU’s Gary Extension it was located across from a bookie joint. Old friends John Ban (Education) and Leroy Peterson (Math) were also on hand. Told Bill that I had run into Angie Komenich Saturday at the Portage library, but she wasn’t coming because she was still getting over the death of her husband. Bruce asked each of us to identify ourselves, and Biology prof Tim Stabler mentioned being a docent at the Museum of Science and Industry. Mike Certa and his wife are ushers and get to see plays free in Chicago. Mary Russell just returned from England barely ahead of the volcano ash. Recently retired Marty Zusman said he was looking forward to doing some fishing. As Liam, the sexagenarian protagonist in Anne Tyler’s “Noah’s Compass” said about winding down in retirement, “How to fill hours. Just proceed one day at a time, is all.” Bruce mentioned that the state legislature approved $33 million for a new building to replace Tamarack but that Governor Mitch Daniels has not released the money. I asked whether plans to make the stretch of 35th Avenue between IUN and Ivy Tech into an academic corridor died once Mayor Scott King left office, and Bruce replied, “If they aren’t dead, they’re barely on life support.” Ran into Jonathyne afterwards and introduced him to Leroy, whom I said was an old poker opponent. We often played at Lew Ciminillo’s house in Glen Park, and his wife would make us sloppy Joes. Fred Chary was a regular, and whenever he got a good hand he’d start rocking in his chair. Snuck Jonathyne out a piece of cake from where the luncheon took place.
I heard on the radio that tomorrow supposedly is National Weed Day – as in pot. The reason it occurs on 4/20 supposedly is because that is the time in the afternoon when students are out of school and able to have a SAFO get together – as in Smoke a Fat One. It kind of like the word Hoosiers: nobody is exactly clear as to the designation.
I went to see “Date Night” with Tina Fey and Steve Carell as a married couple trying to put more spark in their lives. The plot was contrived, but there were some funny moments, such as when the Fosters are trading lines on what other couples eating dinner might be saying to each other. A shirtless Mark Wahlberg has some good lines and a girlfriend named Whippit.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Road Trip
Toni and I traveled to Punta Gorda, Florida, to spend a week with her sister Mary Ann and Sonny, a long drive that we did in two days. The main purpose for driving was to retrieve an Oriental rug that we inherited when my mother moved to California but had loaned to niece Charlene until we were ready to move into a condo. On route 75 we went through Indianapolis, Louisville, and Nashville before switching to 24 east. A bad accident caused us to spend the night in Smyrna, TN, population 38,000 and the namesake of an ancient city in Turkey founded by Alexander the Great. The next day we reached Route 65, passing through Atlanta, and making it to Tampa by twilight, where we stopped, saw niece MaryAnn and her two young’ins Bella and Ben, and spent the night in their guesthouse. As we got further south, signs of spring became more and more pronounced.
Florida highlights included eating Philly steaks (the joint was opened by a Philadelphia native who allegedly has fresh rolls flown down daily) and Blue Point crabs, hot tubbing and playing pinochle with Sonny, playing ping pong with 15 year-old Connor (he won four of six games), and discussing music with 17 year-old Alexandria. Concerning my favorite groups, she hadn’t heard of MGMT (I told her to check out “Electric Feel”), liked Owl City, and used to like Phoenix but not anymore (too much air play and their songs all sound the same). Niece Charlene spun some great anecdotes as always, andwith hubby Jim Quinn I watched the Masters (Tiger sucked but still finished fourth) and a crucial Flyers game (they won in a shoot-out to make the playoffs). Sonny and I had brunch with his 78 year-old friend Harry, who complained that on Tuesdays his two favorite shows, “American Idol” and “Dancing with the Stars,” were on opposite each other. I told him I was rooting for Pamela Anderson on “Dancing.” I told him I was rooting for Pamela Anderson on “Dancing.” Anderson once was married to Tommy Lee Jones of the band Motley Crue, and won a big settlement after a sex video taken during their honeymoon was stolen and made the rounds. She has denied rumors that she wasn’t wearing panties during her dance routines.
At Mary’s condo I found a book on famous speeches throughout history. Most entrees were what one might expect, but there was one by Indira Ghandi on the importance of educating women and two moving speeches by Nelson Mandela, one at his trial and the other upon assuming office as President of South Africa. A conservative, she also had a book by Newt Gingrich and his daughter that nonetheless had some inspirational advice from Bill Clinton.
On the way home we stopped in Gainesville to have lunch with high school buddy Bob Reller and his wife Karen. Although he had a stroke a couple years ago, Rel looked good, walks four miles a day, and the only serious aftereffect is that he has very limited field of vision so he can’t drive. Although he is less prone to reminisce than I, he expressed interest in how my recent Facebook pals Pat Zollo and LeeLee Minehart Devinney are doing (he asked where LeeLee lived and I confessed that I had no idea – the answer I now know, Long Beach Island, New Jersey). I told Karen that I spent many hours playing basketball in his driveway and that one summer while we were in college we played tennis at an industrial park. Rel and I traded anecdotes about the Union League in Philadelphia, a club started by Republicans during the Civil War (supposedly new members have to swear they never voted Democrat). He was there to accept a citizenship award in high school. I was a finalist for a scholarship to study in Scotland my junior year in college. I recall spotting a finger bowl and not knowing what it was for. When Toni told Karen that we met at a law firm where she was a secretary and I a mailroom messenger, Rel asked what law firm. It was Dechert, Price and Rhoads; turned out a good friend of Rel’s worked there. I told them that when Mr. Dechert married his secretary, some of the partners were up in arms. Perhaps that helped steer me to be a History professor rather than a corporation lawyer.
To make the road trip go faster we picked up some audio books from the library. On the way down we listened to a thriller about an Asian leader who wants to unleash germ warfare. On the way back we listened to Lincoln Child’s “Terminal Freeze” and a rendering of Anne Tyler’s “Digging to America.” The narrator did the Iranian-American accents brilliantly, and Toni enjoyed the personality contrast, tension, and friendship between two families that adopted Korean girls at the same time and stayed in touch. The book featured two strong but quirky women characters, Bitsy Donaldson and Maryam Yazdan. After Bitsy’s mother dies, her father befriends Maryam. He’s lost after retiring from a teaching position (they roll out the red carpet and then pull it up behind you, he laments). He proposes to Maryam in front of both families; she accepts and immediately realizes that was a big mistake. For a time it causes a rupture in the relationship between the two families. I had forgotten how moving the ending was, when the entire Donaldson family goes to Maryam’s house to fetch her to join one of their annual get-togethers.
Arriving home after an overnight stopover north of Atlanta, we discovered that we were without electricity and everything in the refrigerator was ruined and smelly. After the circuit breaker got turned back on, it became apparent that a power surge had messed up two TVs, our phones, and some other stuff. Bummer. While Toni commenced cleaning up the mess in the kitchen, I went out for ice so we could at least have cold beer. One time after a winter trip to California, we got home to find the house frigid. Moving to a condo soon seems better and better to us.
Picked up two weeks of mail at Gary’s central post office. A thank you card from niece Niki included a great photo of newborn Crosby Declan Lane. The middle name is the same as Elvis Costello’s given name. At school it didn’t take as long as expected to go through my backlog of hundreds of emails. Former student Adam Stingley found me on Facebook and said complimentary things about the courses he had with me. IU Vice President John Applegate thanked me for the Shavings history of IUN I sent him and mentioned that he used to teach a course on environmental justice and included material on the city of Gary in relation to the steel industry. Ron Cohen dropped by the Archives and filled me in on the OAH conference he attended, in particular a session honoring recently deceased radical historian Howard Zinn, at which Staughton Lynd delivered a moving tribute. In the early Seventies Staughton started a Labor History Workshop in a Glen Park storefront that Ron and I attended. Several old radicals including Joe Norrick and Kathryn Hyndman told about their past struggles with management and the government, and these accounts eventually found their way into Lynd’s book “Rank and File.” Ron reported that Ray Mohl, whose job I inherited when he moved on to Florida International, is still going strong doing research. He also ran into Marylander Don Ritchie, like me a former Sam Merrill student who now is historian for the United States Senate.
In the news: a volcano emanating in Iceland has been sending clouds of ash east over Europe disrupting air traffic. Obama’s scheduled trip to attend the funeral of Polish president Lech Kaczynski is in doubt. The President has had a good week hosting a conference to limit the spread of nuclear weapons although the friggin’ Republicans keep harping on how he isn’t being tough enough on Iran. I haven’t kept up on local events while gone. Right before I left there was a Times column on the former feud between Sheriff Roy Dominguez and current candidate John Buncich, how once the opposing camps called the rivals “Buns Itch” and “Dumbinguez” but now the two call each other friends. Ron told me that Dominguez endorsed a long shot candidate for sheriff named Ligon rather than either of the two frontrunners. My friend Clark says Ligon, an African American with experience in law enforcement, is the best man, so I’m glad Roy did what he did.
Florida highlights included eating Philly steaks (the joint was opened by a Philadelphia native who allegedly has fresh rolls flown down daily) and Blue Point crabs, hot tubbing and playing pinochle with Sonny, playing ping pong with 15 year-old Connor (he won four of six games), and discussing music with 17 year-old Alexandria. Concerning my favorite groups, she hadn’t heard of MGMT (I told her to check out “Electric Feel”), liked Owl City, and used to like Phoenix but not anymore (too much air play and their songs all sound the same). Niece Charlene spun some great anecdotes as always, andwith hubby Jim Quinn I watched the Masters (Tiger sucked but still finished fourth) and a crucial Flyers game (they won in a shoot-out to make the playoffs). Sonny and I had brunch with his 78 year-old friend Harry, who complained that on Tuesdays his two favorite shows, “American Idol” and “Dancing with the Stars,” were on opposite each other. I told him I was rooting for Pamela Anderson on “Dancing.” I told him I was rooting for Pamela Anderson on “Dancing.” Anderson once was married to Tommy Lee Jones of the band Motley Crue, and won a big settlement after a sex video taken during their honeymoon was stolen and made the rounds. She has denied rumors that she wasn’t wearing panties during her dance routines.
At Mary’s condo I found a book on famous speeches throughout history. Most entrees were what one might expect, but there was one by Indira Ghandi on the importance of educating women and two moving speeches by Nelson Mandela, one at his trial and the other upon assuming office as President of South Africa. A conservative, she also had a book by Newt Gingrich and his daughter that nonetheless had some inspirational advice from Bill Clinton.
On the way home we stopped in Gainesville to have lunch with high school buddy Bob Reller and his wife Karen. Although he had a stroke a couple years ago, Rel looked good, walks four miles a day, and the only serious aftereffect is that he has very limited field of vision so he can’t drive. Although he is less prone to reminisce than I, he expressed interest in how my recent Facebook pals Pat Zollo and LeeLee Minehart Devinney are doing (he asked where LeeLee lived and I confessed that I had no idea – the answer I now know, Long Beach Island, New Jersey). I told Karen that I spent many hours playing basketball in his driveway and that one summer while we were in college we played tennis at an industrial park. Rel and I traded anecdotes about the Union League in Philadelphia, a club started by Republicans during the Civil War (supposedly new members have to swear they never voted Democrat). He was there to accept a citizenship award in high school. I was a finalist for a scholarship to study in Scotland my junior year in college. I recall spotting a finger bowl and not knowing what it was for. When Toni told Karen that we met at a law firm where she was a secretary and I a mailroom messenger, Rel asked what law firm. It was Dechert, Price and Rhoads; turned out a good friend of Rel’s worked there. I told them that when Mr. Dechert married his secretary, some of the partners were up in arms. Perhaps that helped steer me to be a History professor rather than a corporation lawyer.
To make the road trip go faster we picked up some audio books from the library. On the way down we listened to a thriller about an Asian leader who wants to unleash germ warfare. On the way back we listened to Lincoln Child’s “Terminal Freeze” and a rendering of Anne Tyler’s “Digging to America.” The narrator did the Iranian-American accents brilliantly, and Toni enjoyed the personality contrast, tension, and friendship between two families that adopted Korean girls at the same time and stayed in touch. The book featured two strong but quirky women characters, Bitsy Donaldson and Maryam Yazdan. After Bitsy’s mother dies, her father befriends Maryam. He’s lost after retiring from a teaching position (they roll out the red carpet and then pull it up behind you, he laments). He proposes to Maryam in front of both families; she accepts and immediately realizes that was a big mistake. For a time it causes a rupture in the relationship between the two families. I had forgotten how moving the ending was, when the entire Donaldson family goes to Maryam’s house to fetch her to join one of their annual get-togethers.
Arriving home after an overnight stopover north of Atlanta, we discovered that we were without electricity and everything in the refrigerator was ruined and smelly. After the circuit breaker got turned back on, it became apparent that a power surge had messed up two TVs, our phones, and some other stuff. Bummer. While Toni commenced cleaning up the mess in the kitchen, I went out for ice so we could at least have cold beer. One time after a winter trip to California, we got home to find the house frigid. Moving to a condo soon seems better and better to us.
Picked up two weeks of mail at Gary’s central post office. A thank you card from niece Niki included a great photo of newborn Crosby Declan Lane. The middle name is the same as Elvis Costello’s given name. At school it didn’t take as long as expected to go through my backlog of hundreds of emails. Former student Adam Stingley found me on Facebook and said complimentary things about the courses he had with me. IU Vice President John Applegate thanked me for the Shavings history of IUN I sent him and mentioned that he used to teach a course on environmental justice and included material on the city of Gary in relation to the steel industry. Ron Cohen dropped by the Archives and filled me in on the OAH conference he attended, in particular a session honoring recently deceased radical historian Howard Zinn, at which Staughton Lynd delivered a moving tribute. In the early Seventies Staughton started a Labor History Workshop in a Glen Park storefront that Ron and I attended. Several old radicals including Joe Norrick and Kathryn Hyndman told about their past struggles with management and the government, and these accounts eventually found their way into Lynd’s book “Rank and File.” Ron reported that Ray Mohl, whose job I inherited when he moved on to Florida International, is still going strong doing research. He also ran into Marylander Don Ritchie, like me a former Sam Merrill student who now is historian for the United States Senate.
In the news: a volcano emanating in Iceland has been sending clouds of ash east over Europe disrupting air traffic. Obama’s scheduled trip to attend the funeral of Polish president Lech Kaczynski is in doubt. The President has had a good week hosting a conference to limit the spread of nuclear weapons although the friggin’ Republicans keep harping on how he isn’t being tough enough on Iran. I haven’t kept up on local events while gone. Right before I left there was a Times column on the former feud between Sheriff Roy Dominguez and current candidate John Buncich, how once the opposing camps called the rivals “Buns Itch” and “Dumbinguez” but now the two call each other friends. Ron told me that Dominguez endorsed a long shot candidate for sheriff named Ligon rather than either of the two frontrunners. My friend Clark says Ligon, an African American with experience in law enforcement, is the best man, so I’m glad Roy did what he did.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Hot Stuff
After reviewing it, Ron Cohen gave me Alice Echols’ new book “Hot Stuff: Disco and the Remaking of American Culture.” A feminist who has written a book about radical feminism called “Daring to Be Bad,” the author was a deejay at an Ann Arbor club called the Rubaiyat and even includes a play list of her dance-floor favorites that includes “Disco Inferno” by the Trammps and “Pull Up to the Bumper” by Grace Jones. There are several chapters that deal with disco and gay culture but not much about lesbians – although it was at this time that large numbers of women discovered that they didn’t need men to achieve orgasm. One song Echols really likes is “More, More, More” by former porn star Andrea True. My favorite disco song, “Boogie Oogie Oogie” by A Taste of Honey” sadly didn’t make Echols’ play list but the BeeGees’ “You Should be Dancing” did. She has an entire chapter on “Saturday Night Fever,” one of my favorite movies, and concludes that while the movie is remembered for its fashions that operate as shorthand for 70s ludicrousness, one should not forget its critique of sexism and racism and (her words) “its queering of Tony’s world.” I recall when Jackson’s Steakhouse in Gary switched to disco and went there once with old fraternity pal Dick Jeary and wife Donna. Even though we were probably among the oldest in the crowd, it was fun and a sociological experience (it seemed at cursory glance to be more heterosexual meat market than gay enclave).
Alice Echols’ new book “Hot Stuff: Disco and the Remaking of American Culture.” A feminist who has written a book about radical feminism called “Daring to Be Bad,” the author was a deejay at an Ann Arbor club called the Rubaiyat and even includes a play list of her dance-floor favorites that includes “Disco Inferno” by the Trammps and “Pull Up to the Bumper” by Grace Jones. There are several chapters that deal with disco and gay culture but not much about lesbians – although it was at this time that large numbers of women discovered that they didn’t need men to achieve orgasm. One song Echols really likes is “More, More, More” song by former porn star Andrea True. My favorite disco song, “Boogie Oogie Oogie” by A Taste of Honey” sadly didn’t make Echols’ play list but the BeeGees’ “You Should be Dancing” did. She has an entire chapter on “Saturday Night Fever,” one of my favorite movies, and concludes that while the movie is remembered for its fashions that operate as shorthand for 70s ludicrousness, one should not forget its critique of sexism and racism and (her words) “its queering of Tony’s world.” I recall when Jackson’s Steakhouse in Gary switched to disco and went there once with old fraternity pal Dick Jeary and wife Donna. Even though we were probably among the oldest in the crowd, it was fun and a sociological experience (it seemed at cursory glance to be more heterosexual meat market than gay enclave).
Echols devotes a section of each chapter to an analysis of a disco song, including “Fodderstumpf” by Public Image Limited featuring John Lyden (aka Johnny Rotten). Even though it was meant as a parody, Lyden claimed he loved disco. I saw PIL with several of son Dave’s friends in Chicago. At one point John Migoski was being crushed against the stage until a beefy security guard pulled him up to safety. He was minus a shoe, however, which we were able to retrieve after most everyone had cleared out.
Toni and I stopped off at a motel where Dave’s family spent the night Friday to give James and Rebecca some fun near the end of their spring break. Sunday I won two out of four board games and barely lost one we recently added to our heavy rotation called Small World. One tries to conquer territory with various tribesmen (ghouls, ratmen,orcs, wizards, dwarves) that you combine with various special powers. I helped Toni, a crossword puzzle master, with answers to two sports questions, “James of the Court” (Labron) and 2008 Olympic star (Usain Bolt). It was a big sports weekend with the NCAA Final Four (go Butler, boo Duke) and a desperation ice hockey game for the Flyers to make the playoffs that was on TV (Philadelphia beat the Red Wings 4-3). I still have a Bobby Clark jersey from the Flyers glory days in the early Seventies. Toni and I head south tomorrow on our road trip to Florida, and I hope I’ll be watching the Flyers with brother-in-law Sonny (Joseph Okomski), an even bigger fan than I. I was with him in Kansas City for his daughter Charlene’s graduation from medical and we put on a Montreal-Philadelphia playoff game. The Canadiens had a pregame practice of shooting a puck in the opposition’s net before skating off the ice, and the Flyers were determined not to let that happen. Before the game even started, a fight broke out that lasted 45 minutes. Players came out of the locker rooms that were still only half-dressed. Sonny roared with laughter the entire time.
I am taking the Tom Robbins novel “Skinny Legs and All” to Florida with me. Years ago, I enjoyed his “Another Roadside Attraction” (so did friends Ivan Jasper and Tom Orr, who started a restaurant in Wheeler by that name). The novel bears little resemblance to the 1967 Joe Tex song and got off to such a strange start I almost abandoned it. One of the characters is a can of pork and beans (I kid you not).
Alice Echols’ new book “Hot Stuff: Disco and the Remaking of American Culture.” A feminist who has written a book about radical feminism called “Daring to Be Bad,” the author was a deejay at an Ann Arbor club called the Rubaiyat and even includes a play list of her dance-floor favorites that includes “Disco Inferno” by the Trammps and “Pull Up to the Bumper” by Grace Jones. There are several chapters that deal with disco and gay culture but not much about lesbians – although it was at this time that large numbers of women discovered that they didn’t need men to achieve orgasm. One song Echols really likes is “More, More, More” song by former porn star Andrea True. My favorite disco song, “Boogie Oogie Oogie” by A Taste of Honey” sadly didn’t make Echols’ play list but the BeeGees’ “You Should be Dancing” did. She has an entire chapter on “Saturday Night Fever,” one of my favorite movies, and concludes that while the movie is remembered for its fashions that operate as shorthand for 70s ludicrousness, one should not forget its critique of sexism and racism and (her words) “its queering of Tony’s world.” I recall when Jackson’s Steakhouse in Gary switched to disco and went there once with old fraternity pal Dick Jeary and wife Donna. Even though we were probably among the oldest in the crowd, it was fun and a sociological experience (it seemed at cursory glance to be more heterosexual meat market than gay enclave).
Echols devotes a section of each chapter to an analysis of a disco song, including “Fodderstumpf” by Public Image Limited featuring John Lyden (aka Johnny Rotten). Even though it was meant as a parody, Lyden claimed he loved disco. I saw PIL with several of son Dave’s friends in Chicago. At one point John Migoski was being crushed against the stage until a beefy security guard pulled him up to safety. He was minus a shoe, however, which we were able to retrieve after most everyone had cleared out.
Toni and I stopped off at a motel where Dave’s family spent the night Friday to give James and Rebecca some fun near the end of their spring break. Sunday I won two out of four board games and barely lost one we recently added to our heavy rotation called Small World. One tries to conquer territory with various tribesmen (ghouls, ratmen,orcs, wizards, dwarves) that you combine with various special powers. I helped Toni, a crossword puzzle master, with answers to two sports questions, “James of the Court” (Labron) and 2008 Olympic star (Usain Bolt). It was a big sports weekend with the NCAA Final Four (go Butler, boo Duke) and a desperation ice hockey game for the Flyers to make the playoffs that was on TV (Philadelphia beat the Red Wings 4-3). I still have a Bobby Clark jersey from the Flyers glory days in the early Seventies. Toni and I head south tomorrow on our road trip to Florida, and I hope I’ll be watching the Flyers with brother-in-law Sonny (Joseph Okomski), an even bigger fan than I. I was with him in Kansas City for his daughter Charlene’s graduation from medical and we put on a Montreal-Philadelphia playoff game. The Canadiens had a pregame practice of shooting a puck in the opposition’s net before skating off the ice, and the Flyers were determined not to let that happen. Before the game even started, a fight broke out that lasted 45 minutes. Players came out of the locker rooms that were still only half-dressed. Sonny roared with laughter the entire time.
I am taking the Tom Robbins novel “Skinny Legs and All” to Florida with me. Years ago, I enjoyed his “Another Roadside Attraction” (so did friends Ivan Jasper and Tom Orr, who started a restaurant in Wheeler by that name). The novel bears little resemblance to the 1967 Joe Tex song and got off to such a strange start I almost abandoned it. One of the characters is a can of pork and beans (I kid you not).
Friday, April 2, 2010
Going South
Vice Chancellor David Malik was showing newcomer John Novak, the Associate Chancellor for Institutional Effectiveness and Research, around and came upon me at my computer with the 27-inch screen, which he helped me obtain. We’ve had a series of administrators charged with helping faculty get grants, none of whom seem to have been very effective. Let’s hope Novak, a Purdue grad, is more helpful to faculty.
The phrase “Going South” has come to mean “be in decline,” such as happened to the stock market a couple years ago or sales in 2008-2009 thanks to the Bush recession. Next week Toni and I are driving south to Florida, so in preparation I got my toe nails cut at L.A. Nails (as usual I was the only male customer), had my hair trimmed at Qwik Cut, checked out audio tapes of books at the library, did some food shopping and leaf raking, and put in a load of wash. Lay down briefly after a long bath. Only one contestant knew the answer to “Final Jeopardy,” Russian short story master Anton Chekhov. There was also a “Fifties Fiction” category where the answers included “Peyton Place” and Kurt Vonnegut. "Peyton Place" seems tame today with the proliferation of porn, but was a real pot boiler when I was a teenager. Another category was “April Fools.” On a more X-rated note “going south can refer to a bj.
I wanted to play an April Fools prank on Alissa, telling her that I was outside “watering the rocks” (Toni’s phrase for taking a leak on top of our driveway) when high winds caused a tree to topple over and miss me by mere inches. Unfortunately she was busy and couldn’t talk. When she lived with us, Alissa used to get us with bogus stories. One time I got her back by claiming to have cut down one of her favorite trees.
While listening to MGMT’s CD “Oracular Spectacular” I looked at the 2000 journal that I published eight years ago as part of Shavings volume 33. I used song lyrics to introduce various sections, such as Mark Knopler’s “Sailing to Philadelphia/To draw the line” when describing my trip east to attend my fortieth high school reunion. Asked to supply an anecdote from my teen years, I talked about driving around or “cruisin’” with buddies Bob Reller, Dick Garretson, Bob Elliott, and Joe Ricketts. One night Garretson brought a STOP sign into Rel’s car. As we were tooling down a back road, a cop passed in the opposite direction and then appeared to be turning around. The sign went out the window. Momentarily caught in the wind, it hovered off the ground about windshield height. Right after it landed, the cop came around the bend, stopped Rel, and searched for booze. Close call. Had the sign clipped the cop’s car, we’d have been dead. Rel had no recollection of the incident although he did remember that Garretson had some road signs in his bedroom.
Phil’s family stopped in on their way to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, so I made a hearty breakfast of pancakes, scrambled eggs, and kielbasa. Victoria has a new hairstyle that is really cool, and Miranda has a half-dozen bruises on her legs from varsity soccer. She plays midfielder and in her last game, a 2-1 victory, she had a breakaway but was tripped from behind.
The phrase “Going South” has come to mean “be in decline,” such as happened to the stock market a couple years ago or sales in 2008-2009 thanks to the Bush recession. Next week Toni and I are driving south to Florida, so in preparation I got my toe nails cut at L.A. Nails (as usual I was the only male customer), had my hair trimmed at Qwik Cut, checked out audio tapes of books at the library, did some food shopping and leaf raking, and put in a load of wash. Lay down briefly after a long bath. Only one contestant knew the answer to “Final Jeopardy,” Russian short story master Anton Chekhov. There was also a “Fifties Fiction” category where the answers included “Peyton Place” and Kurt Vonnegut. "Peyton Place" seems tame today with the proliferation of porn, but was a real pot boiler when I was a teenager. Another category was “April Fools.” On a more X-rated note “going south can refer to a bj.
I wanted to play an April Fools prank on Alissa, telling her that I was outside “watering the rocks” (Toni’s phrase for taking a leak on top of our driveway) when high winds caused a tree to topple over and miss me by mere inches. Unfortunately she was busy and couldn’t talk. When she lived with us, Alissa used to get us with bogus stories. One time I got her back by claiming to have cut down one of her favorite trees.
While listening to MGMT’s CD “Oracular Spectacular” I looked at the 2000 journal that I published eight years ago as part of Shavings volume 33. I used song lyrics to introduce various sections, such as Mark Knopler’s “Sailing to Philadelphia/To draw the line” when describing my trip east to attend my fortieth high school reunion. Asked to supply an anecdote from my teen years, I talked about driving around or “cruisin’” with buddies Bob Reller, Dick Garretson, Bob Elliott, and Joe Ricketts. One night Garretson brought a STOP sign into Rel’s car. As we were tooling down a back road, a cop passed in the opposite direction and then appeared to be turning around. The sign went out the window. Momentarily caught in the wind, it hovered off the ground about windshield height. Right after it landed, the cop came around the bend, stopped Rel, and searched for booze. Close call. Had the sign clipped the cop’s car, we’d have been dead. Rel had no recollection of the incident although he did remember that Garretson had some road signs in his bedroom.
Phil’s family stopped in on their way to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, so I made a hearty breakfast of pancakes, scrambled eggs, and kielbasa. Victoria has a new hairstyle that is really cool, and Miranda has a half-dozen bruises on her legs from varsity soccer. She plays midfielder and in her last game, a 2-1 victory, she had a breakaway but was tripped from behind.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Vanishing Community
Shortly after I arrived at IUN’s library the fire alarm went off at an earsplitting level. Steve McShane had warned me that it would happen, but it still nearly caused me to jump out of my chair. About 40 of us gathered outside while Environmental Health and Safety director Kathy Manteuffel gave us instructions using a bullhorn. The temperature reached 70 degrees, so many folks were without coats. Some students were even in shorts and bare midriff outfits. We had numerous visitors to the Archives, including three people interested in Gary's sports history.
John Laue, who is writing a book on the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore, interviewed me about living in the vanishing community of Edgewater. When Toni and I moved there in 1977, already about half the homes were in the process of being torn down. So we never had the experience of living in a vibrant community like John did growing up. Now there are only a handful of homes left that will have to be evacuated by the end of the year unless the government does a total about-face. John asked me what I’ll miss the most and I mentioned foraging in the woods for firewood. The sassafras trees in particular were great because they were a perfect size for cutting up into logs and as they burned they made a cool sizzling sound and smelled great. I mentioned the home invasion that took place ten years ago in the cabin where David and Angie lived and coming upon a dead body a few months later a block down from us. Even so, hardly anyone ventures up our hill from the apartments on the other side of County Line Road and we have never felt unsafe.
I traded Facebook messages with Pat Zollo, who once was class rebel and apparently has aged gracefully. At Upper Dublin High School students weren’t supposed to leave at lunchtime, but Pat would often go out for Italian zeps (hoagies) and smuggle them in the side door by the wood shop. They smelled so good and the aroma was so strong that everyone in the area was jealous.
Cafeteria lunch companion Ray Fontaine is retiring soon and talks as though he can’t wait and won’t look back. I wonder if he won’t miss the university. My situation, coming to school nearly every day, is pretty unique. Where once people looked at me as if to say “What are you doing here” (some people actually said just that), people now seem to take my presence on campus for granted.
I bowled my average (480 series), and the Electrical Engineers won five out of seven points against a very good team. Frank rolled a 623 and Robbie had games of 240 and 192 after starting with a 117. We won game one by four pins and series by under 20. I didn’t have many strikes but only one split. Just one more week to go. John Gilbert bowled a 700 series for the opposition. Last time I talked to him he told me about his former girlfriend’s father dying. He had been real close to Jamie’s parents. He couldn’t bring himself to attend the funeral service but visited the mom the next day and he said she gave him a huge hug.
Toni got back photos of Alissa’s show “Strange Roads” as well as photos of me with Sheriff Roy Dominguez at his Birthday Bash. There’s also a nice one of me with Oscar Sanchez. In the background is a sign reading “Keep Indiana Blue in 2010, 2011, and 2012.” Yesterday Toni viewed the photos on her digital camera at the pharmacy and the ones she ordered were ready within 24 hours. She probably could have gotten them within an hour had she needed to.
John Laue, who is writing a book on the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore, interviewed me about living in the vanishing community of Edgewater. When Toni and I moved there in 1977, already about half the homes were in the process of being torn down. So we never had the experience of living in a vibrant community like John did growing up. Now there are only a handful of homes left that will have to be evacuated by the end of the year unless the government does a total about-face. John asked me what I’ll miss the most and I mentioned foraging in the woods for firewood. The sassafras trees in particular were great because they were a perfect size for cutting up into logs and as they burned they made a cool sizzling sound and smelled great. I mentioned the home invasion that took place ten years ago in the cabin where David and Angie lived and coming upon a dead body a few months later a block down from us. Even so, hardly anyone ventures up our hill from the apartments on the other side of County Line Road and we have never felt unsafe.
I traded Facebook messages with Pat Zollo, who once was class rebel and apparently has aged gracefully. At Upper Dublin High School students weren’t supposed to leave at lunchtime, but Pat would often go out for Italian zeps (hoagies) and smuggle them in the side door by the wood shop. They smelled so good and the aroma was so strong that everyone in the area was jealous.
Cafeteria lunch companion Ray Fontaine is retiring soon and talks as though he can’t wait and won’t look back. I wonder if he won’t miss the university. My situation, coming to school nearly every day, is pretty unique. Where once people looked at me as if to say “What are you doing here” (some people actually said just that), people now seem to take my presence on campus for granted.
I bowled my average (480 series), and the Electrical Engineers won five out of seven points against a very good team. Frank rolled a 623 and Robbie had games of 240 and 192 after starting with a 117. We won game one by four pins and series by under 20. I didn’t have many strikes but only one split. Just one more week to go. John Gilbert bowled a 700 series for the opposition. Last time I talked to him he told me about his former girlfriend’s father dying. He had been real close to Jamie’s parents. He couldn’t bring himself to attend the funeral service but visited the mom the next day and he said she gave him a huge hug.
Toni got back photos of Alissa’s show “Strange Roads” as well as photos of me with Sheriff Roy Dominguez at his Birthday Bash. There’s also a nice one of me with Oscar Sanchez. In the background is a sign reading “Keep Indiana Blue in 2010, 2011, and 2012.” Yesterday Toni viewed the photos on her digital camera at the pharmacy and the ones she ordered were ready within 24 hours. She probably could have gotten them within an hour had she needed to.
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