French Lick Redux

During nephew Joe’s annual visit from Seattle, I took him to French Lick, where Philip and I recently worked and bonded. Toni couldn’t go because of condo stuff, so niece Michele, husband Tom and their precious, precocious kids Nickolas (10) and Sophia (8) stayed in the second room. On the two-hour ride from Indianapolis Joe played a CD of thrash metal band Megadeth’s greatest hits as well as numbers by Norah Jones, including the Hank Williams classic “Cold, Cold Heart.” The facilities impressed Joe. We were on the first floor near the pools with a garden view yet because the Dietz family brought their small dog. On the second day we went on a cool two-hour train ride through forest, farmland, and a 2.2-mile tunnel (the many electronic devices prevented it from being pitch black). Sophia and I tossed a beach ball back and forth in the ample outdoor pool and attracted a bunch of kids. Everyone loved the buffets, and, as before, I had a sundae at every meal. The friendly omelet maker Josh was a summer intern from Illinois majoring in Culinary Arts. On the way back to Indy Joe and I listened to the Seattle band Nevermore whose CD I had managed to find at a Best Buy near Tom and Michele’s, much to Joe’s delight. Michele later confided that at trip’s end Sophia declared that I was her favorite uncle.

In a nice thank you note Missy claimed she loved the MGMT CD “Congratulations” that includes “Song for Dan Treacy” (track 2), who was in a band called Television Personalities, and “Brian Eno” (# 7), one of the founders of Roxy Music. The best song “Flash Delirium” is almost as good as their hit “Electric Glide” on their previous CD “Oracular Spectacular.”

Alissa arrived home from Athens, where she saw the Acropolis and the Parthenon. While playing ZZ Top on her IPod, she told friend how I had introduced her to the “little old band from Texas.” We saw them live at the Star Plaza in Merrillville. The two drank a toast to me, she said.

At Rebecca’s birthday Saturday, Angie’s Aunt Cindy recalled taking an upper division course from me back some 30 years ago and coming upon her lecture notes during a move. Robert Blaszkiewicz, a member of the Times editorial board, interviewed Lake County sheriff hopefuls and various Republican Senatorial candidates. In Croquet Dave and Tom ganged up on me, but I still got to be poison and knocked them out only to finish second to Cindy’s husband Ben. In all three games of Wits and Wagers I led going into the final betting round only to lose. Dropped in on Paul Kaczocha’s picnic, but only family members remained. We chatted about politics and mutual acquaintances with a White Sox game on in the background. Stopped for a few items at the old homestead, including a six-pack and my favorite pan for cooking onions and mushrooms at breakfast.

As part of Comcast’s introductory offer we get all sorts of movie channels, and over the weekend I watched all or part of “L. A. Confidential” (Kim Basinger was delicious) “My Cousin Vinny” (Marisa Tomei deserved her Oscar), and “Royal Tenenbaums” (Gene Hackman at his best). Having cable allowed me to watch World Cup matches. Brazil and the rest of the Latin American teams got eliminated, so now I’ll pull for the Netherlands. When they beat Uruguay 3-2, ESPN showed tens of thousands of celebrants at Amsterdam’s museam square. I have a sentimental attachment to Amsterdam from a visit 25 years ago and visited those very museums.

Sunrise Family Restaurant down the street from our condo has delicious dinner meals for seniors costing $7.69, including a nonalcoholic drink and dessert. Including tip, the bill is around twenty bucks with enough leftovers for a doggie bag or two (except when I order fried clams). Last time we were there two flies were bothering me, but I zapped them against a window with my paper place mat, causing an alarmed manager to rush over to see what the fuss was.

Am rereading John Updike’s “Rabbit at Rest” about the aging Harry Angstrom. He’s a Florida snow bird at age 55 and laments, “The saddest loss time brings: the lessening of excitement about anything.” On retirement he remarks: “You fill a slot for a time and then move out; that’s the decent thing to do: make room.” Concerning aging he writes: “Life is a hill that gets steeper the more you climb.” Harry professes to hate seeing the word “redux,” meaning “brought back,” claiming he can’t even pronounce it, an inside joke since Updike titled the second book in the series “Rabbit Redux.” The action takes place in the winter of 1988 and is filled with references to popular culture and current events (the last months of the Reagan administration when nobody was minding the store). Hospitalized after a heart attack, Harry watches on TV the infamous “fog bowl” in Chicago when the Eagles lost to the Bears in a game that was almost impossible to see. He pronounces the sitcom “Roseanne” totally stupid “starring a fat woman whose only talent is talking fast without moving her mouth” (actually I thought it was pretty good).

Dozens of emails awaited me at IUN after French Lick and the July 4 weekend. Old girlfriend Suzanna reported long ago giving her career army father fits by announcing that she was a liberal Democrat and a pacifist. Similarly, when I’d come home from Bucknell, I’d drive my dad close to apoplexy by criticizing his hero Eisenhower and supporting JFK and LBJ. Salem press sent me a list of possible books to review. My three top choices, all on sports history, included biographies of Celtic great Bill Russell and centerfielder Willie Mays (the “Say hey” Kid”) plus one called “He Crashed Me So I Crashed Him Back: The True Story of the Year the King, Jaws, Earnhardt, and the Rest of NASCAR's Feudin', Fightin' Good Ol' Boys Put Stock Car Racing on the Map.”

Ronald Cohen loaned me “Admirable Radical” about Staughton Lynd. Various colleges, including IUN, blacklisted him during the late Sixties despite an impeccable academic record because of his strident opposition to the Vietnam War and visit to Hanoi. The forward is by New Left historian Howard Zinn. Staughton was a guest in Ron’s class and conducted a “Rank and File” Labor History Workshop in a Glen Park storefront where I met lefties Joe Norrick, Mike Olszanski, and Kathryn Hyndman. He almost always wore a frayed blue t-shirt under a dress shirt and was a lifelong advocate for the downtrodden – whether it was Southern blacks, steelworkers, Palestinians or death row inmates. Ron attended Jack Weinberg’s seventieth birthday party. Jack’s name is an answer in the Baby Boomer version of Trivial Pursuit, having once quipped, “Don’t trust anyone over 30.” I was at his fiftieth and gave him a tape of my favorite songs (including tunes by the Clash and the Ramones).

I’ve been chauffeuring James to his Kids College class called “Broadway Bound.” He is singing and dancing to “Lion King” songs and asking for a “Pet Detective Agency” story while in the car. I met John Fraire in the Archives to discuss his fascinating PhD dissertation project on postwar Mexican-American baseball teams (both male and female) in the Indiana Harbor neighborhood of East Chicago. So far he has done about 18 interviews, including with my buddy Louis “Weasal” Vasquez. Thousands of fans attended the games, and some of the exploits have become legendary. A campus administrator at Washington State, John doesn’t get back to the Midwest often. His brother Rocky was a friend back in my Porter Acres softball days. What a time we had partying. The Seventies, now that was a decade worth getting nostalgic about. John and Rocky’s mother, an assistant to the social studies director for the Gary schools, played and coached on one of the teams. She was an ardent supporter of Steel Shavings in its early days and was one of the main editors of a book about Latina women called “Harbor Lights.”