Four Score

“I said four score and seven years ago

Oh sock it to ’em baby,

You’re sounding better all the time!”

    “Abie Baby/ Fourscore,” from “Hair”

Abraham Lincoln made the cover of Time and The Smithsonian, due in part to the upcoming Steven Spielberg movie that focuses on the President’s efforts to garner enough Congressional support to pass the Thirteenth Amendment.  Had the abolition of slavery not been accomplished while Southern states were in rebellion, success would have been far more difficult, if not impossible.  The Gettysburg Address, starting with the phrase “four score and seven years ago,” lasted only two minutes and received no applause, perhaps because of the somber occasion, honoring the thousands who died on that Pennsylvania battlefield. “Abie Baby” is irreverent satire, sung from a black man’s point of view, with the final lines being, “I’m not dying for no white man (Tell it like it is, baby).”

Exactly 160 years ago occurred the funeral of Daniel Webster.  Bostonian Richard Henry Dana wrote that the Massachusetts Senator was “a true product of New England, and on her most sacred spot, the home of the Pilgrims, was he to return.”  Thousands silently passed by the uncovered coffin, as “in it lay stretched, at length, in the full dress that he wore at his last speech, all that is mortal of Daniel Webster.”

I came across “Dinner at Eight,” a 1989 made-for-TV remake of the 1933 classic starring John Barrymore and Jean Harlow, which in turn was adopted from the 1932 Broadway hit written by George S. Kaufman and Edna Ferber.  Lauren Bacall as a worldly novelist and Marsha Mason as a social climbing society matron shine in an otherwise mediocre production.  John Mahoney, Frasier’s dad in the TV series, plays the male lead.  Bacall, 65 at the time, was Humphrey Bogart’s lover and sat on a piano in 1945 while then Vice President Harry Truman “tickled the ivories.”

Bacall in 1989 (above) and 1945

I kept an eye on the World Series and Notre Dame while playing bridge with Dick and Cheryl.  Punchless Detroit is in danger of being swept, while the Fighting Irish beat favored Oklahoma on the strength of its defense.

Woke up tired after dreaming of helping relatives move, only nobody else was taking furniture to the van.  Went one for four gaming Sunday at Dave’s, prevailing in St. Petersburg thanks to early Potemkin and Judge cards.  On the kitchen table were an array of Jack o’Lanterns carved by James and Becca.  Driving home, I mentioned to Tom that the Corolla engine seemed loud.  He agreed and speculated that it might be a compression problem.  It proved to be a wheel bearing.

Alissa and Josh dropped in on their way back from Madison, WI, where Alissa attended a conference.  The night before, they went to Second City Comedy Club, and enjoyed people-watching Chicago revelers in Halloween costumes.  They had planned to visit the Shedd Aquarium, but attendants wanted 50 bucks for parking because of the Bears game taking place nearby.  Josh and I watched last-second victories by both Chicago and the Colts (he lived in Indy growing up).

In “Broadway Empire” the diabolical Gillian (Gretchen Mol) needing a corpse resembling son Jimmy, lures her new lover into a tub and kills him with an overdose of heroin.  Giuseppe “Gyp” Rosetti (Bobby Cannavale) endures a meal with his tough-as-nails wife and sisters.  When he starts to eat without first crossing himself, she slaps him and says, “What are we, cats in an alley?”  Afterwards Gyp curses out God, slugs a priest, and steals from the church.  Still in this “Sunday Best” episode it was fun watching Nucky (Steve Buscemi) juggling balls at his brother Eli’s house for Easter dinner and WW I vet Richard falling for sweet Julia.

The third season of the HBO series is taking place four score and nine years ago (1923) when the Klan was rising, F. Scott Fitzgerald published “Tales of the Jazz Age,” Bessie Smith recorded “Downhearted Blues,” and President Warren Harding succumbed to congestive heart failure (although rumors developed that he had killed himself or that his wife had murdered him), saddling the country with pipsqueak Calvin Coolidge

Emma Balay, who had been working at a Halloween costume shop in L.A. has a new gig as Tinkerbell at Disney World.  She promised to send along a photo of her dressed in her green fairy outfit.

Hurricane Sandy hit the East Coast.  Airplane traffic has come to a halt, and weathermen are labeling the monster blast “Frank-en-storm.”  Chuck Todd’s “The Daily Rundown” focused on how it is disrupting the campaign a week before the election.  Matt Lauer signed off speculating that “The Today Show” might not be on the air tomorrow.  When Hurricane Hazel came through eastern Pennsylvania in 1942, Fort Washington Ave. in front of our house became a swirling river that almost killed our dog Smokey.  Toni’s pet parrot disappeared when someone opened the front door unexpectedly.  Four score years ago occurred the election of FDR, which led to the flowering of liberalism.  Let’s hope 2012 does not lead to its dismantling.

Drena's Bar and Grill

The holidays were quite eventful. Since the leaseback on our house, located within the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore, is due to expire on September 30, 2010, this will probably be our last Christmas on Maple Place, unless the federal government has a change of heart. That is unlikely, although there is some sentiment for allowing folks to stay longer. There are not enough of us to have any clout, I fear. Anyways, we knew the situation when we bought the house 33 years ago, and we already have been given two extensions beyond the original 20 years. On Christmas Eve Toni had the traditional Polish meal (called Wigilia) after which we broke off pieces of each others’ unleavened wafers (Oplatky) and kissed one another (there were 13 of us in all, including Alissa’s mother Beth, in from Portland). Then we decorated the tree, had a “March of Presents,” and sang Christmas carols. Next morning we opened presents (I got jelly and some cool shirts, among other things) did a lot of Wii bowling, and enjoyed a new board game called Ingenious.

On December 27 Dave performed at Open Mike night at a place in Hobart called Drena’s Bar and Grill. Beth drove me and Alissa (who was carded at the door), and we were joined by Beth’s brother Jimmy and Dave’s wife Angie. I didn’t know what to expect but had a great time. For one thing, there was an excellent house band, so even when the singers or other musicians weren’t that great, the drummer, lead guitar player, and bass player were top notch – in fact, they also played in a popular local group called the Crawpuppies, whose lead singer, Chad Clifford, is a former student of mine from back in the Eighties when he was with the band Digital Hair (I heard them open for the Romantics at Valparaiso University). The Sunday night festivities were dubbed “rock and roll blues jazz country western karaoke jam night” and in fact some “amateurs” were reading the lyrics from a book containing the songs the band could play. There were several Kelly Clarkson wannabes and a couple red hot mommas who could really belt it out. One guy who could really scream did a couple great AC/DC numbers.

Dave was the last act of the night, having arrived somewhat late because Sunday was his bowling night. He did a few acoustic numbers without the band, starting with the Bob Dylan song “The Man in Me” from the movie “The Big Lebowski.” Earlier there was a rather old guy (probably ten years younger than me) at the bar; and when he looked about to leave, I told him that my son was performing next and that maybe he’d like to stick around. I offered to buy him a drink, but he declined, saying he was on medication. I noticed that when David started, the guy was near me and seemed to be taping him with a hand-held camera. After about ten minutes, I heard Dave say that he hoped the house band would join him. The members were at the bar, so I went over to them and told them what David said. They got on stage while Dave was singing the Neil Young song about Johnny Rotten, “My My Hey Hey,” that includes the line “It’s better to burn out than to fade away.” First the drummer joined in and than the guitar players. It was really cool. Then as a finale they did Neil Young’s “Rockin’ in the Free World,” which made me think of Big Voodoo Daddy from Dave’s old band Voodoo Chili, who died last year. That was his trademark song. Quite a night.

The next day Dave told me that Drena’s put his opening song on YouTube (if you Google Drena’s Bar and Grill, you can find “Jam with David Lane,” December 27, on the second page of listings). It turns out the “old guy” was recording it and that my voice singing the chorus from the audience is almost as loud as Dave’s. Embarrassing. I told Dave I was sorry and hadn’t realized what was going on, but he said it was OK because it just sounded like the audience was having a good time.

Found the time to read Gore Vidal's novel "Hollywood," part of his series covering American history starting with "Burr" and "Lincoln." It faithfully covers events that took place during the Woodrow Wilson and Warren harding administrations - of the two he is more sympathetic toward Harding. Not many holiday parties because the usual suspects Tanice Foltz and Chuck Gallmeier were either indisposed with a foot operation or in England. We did go with Ron and Nancy Cohen to Tracy and Fred Traut’s New Year’s Eve party (much fun) followed the next day by Halberstadt Game Week-end, a tradition that goes back over 30 years (my first one was in 1981). I played two new board games, Carcassonne and Small World. In the first you build cities and roads, and in the second you do battle (“in a lighthearted way,” to quote from the inventor) with one of 14 races (sorcerers, ghouls, skeletons, etc.) endowed with one of 20 special powers. I liked them both, and they don’t take nearly as long to finish as many games played during the three days.

The weather in Northwest Indiana stinks. The ice was so thick on the driveway Christmas Eve an entire bag of salt hardly made a dent on it. It took three attempts before a city plow could get up our road. Then for three days straight on New Year’s week-end Lake (Michigan) effect snow continued to fall. At least I could sweep it off the driveway with a broom. President Obama was in Hawaii with his family in a fabulous mansion near Honolulu located at Kailua Beach. When Toni and I lived in Hawaii in 1965-66 while I got my Master’s degree, we often swam near there. I found time to see two excellent movies, ‘Up in the Air” and “Avatar.”

Since IU Northwest’s library was closed for the holidays, I stayed away completely from computers. Over 130 emails were waiting for me this morning, many New York Times news stories plus a lot of messages from classmates.com trying to get me to join by claiming Upper Dublin classmates were trying to get in touch with me. One classmate I am in touch with, Pam Rudolph, wished me Happy New Year and mentioned attending a Bowzer (from Sha Na Na) oldies show featuring the Tokens and some of Bill Haley’s Comets, now in their mid-80s. A reporter from the Chicago Tribune wants to talk to me about the ending of leasebacks at the National lakeshore. Coincidentally in an email old neighbor John Laue asked me to proofread interviews he did over the holidays with various leaseholders as well as with Jack Weinberg, who was a leader in the anti-nuke movement that stopped NIPSCO utility company from building a nuclear plant near the park.

Choice magazine sent me a book to review, “The World Turned Upside Down” by James Livingston. It’s part of a series on American Thought and Culture and, while scholarly, has sections on pop culture covering rap and heavy metal music as well as slasher and sci-fi films, among other things. There are even pictures of Eddie Van Halen, Freddy Krueger, Public Enemy, the Simpsons, the “South park” cast, and Robert DeNiro in “Taxi Driver” in army fatigues and Mohawk haircut. It looks much different from a previous book I reviewed in the series called “The Postmodernist Turn: American Thought and Culture in the 1970s.” In my Choice review I complained that it contained nothing about film, TV, music, sports, advertising, “New Age” philosophy, pop psychology, genetics, cybernetics, environmentalism or Latinos, Asian Americans, gays, or Native American thought. Instead it focused on “such barren shoals of academic thought as deconstruction, neo-Marxism, poststructuralism, hermeneutics, and neoconservatism.”