Hostilities

“The nicest veterans, the kindest and funniest ones, the ones who hated war the most, were the ones who’d really fought.” Kurt Vonnegut, “Slaughterhouse Five”

 Peter Sellers as Dr. Strangelove

Even though I already knew the doomsday ending of “Cat’s Cradle” (1963) by Kurt Vonnegut, it still moved me deeply.  As one who personally witnessed the horrors of war, the author brought out the absurdity of the Cold War arms race in ways that hadn’t moved me so deeply since the black comedy “Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb” (1964).  During a Memorial Day ceremony Vonnegut has Ambassador Horlick Minton deliver this devastating critique of glorifying warfare:

 Perhaps when we remember wars, we should take off all our clothes and paint ourselves blue and go down on all fours all day long and grunt like pigs.  That would surely be more appropriate than noble oratory and shows of flags and well-oiled guns.

Battle of Missionary Ridge, chromolithograph by Kurtz and Allison

Minton then recited these lines from “Spoon River Anthology” by Edgar Lee Masters, written in 1915 on the eve of American entry into the Great War: 

 I was the first fruits of the battle of Missionary Ridge

When I felt the bullet enter my heart

I wished I had stayed at home . . .

Instead of running away and joining the army.

The 1863 Battle of Missionary Ridge near Chattanooga was a Union victory at a cost to General U.S. Grant’s army of 6,000 casualties.

I’m listening to a greatest hits CD by Jackson Browne, whom I saw twice at the Star Plaza, that includes “Lives in the Balance,” about “men in the shadows” selling us everything from our President to our wars. “Lives in the Balance” was released when Reagan was flirting with intervening to overthrow the socialist regime in Nicaragua.  When I spoke at a history conference in Rio about women steelworkers, I played a video of Browne performing it at a 1990 concert in Santiago, Chile.  The final lines go:

And there are lives in the balance
There are people under fire
There are children at the cannons
And there is blood on the wire

Our bridge group dined at Captain’s House and then played at the Hagelbergs, who had purchased a delicious carrot cake from the Miller eatery.  I had a mediocre score but helped Toni edge out Brian Barnes to finish first.  Going into the final round, she trailed him by about 500 points.  After two hands he and Connie were up a game, but then we made two game bids to overtake them; first Toni made 4 Spades and on the final hand I bid three No-Trump and then took every trick thanks to two successful finesses and a 2-2 split with the four Diamonds in opponents’ hands. Like me, Brian and Connie had loved “Green Book.”  Noting that pianist Don Shirley should have known better than to flash a wad in a bar, Brian said that when working in Chicago for Sears, he always carried a wad.  Then if mugged, he could easily hand it over and hopefully then be left unhurt with his wallet.

I watched IU, led by Jawun Morgan (above), defeat Rutgers on Senior Day to clinch a bye in the upcoming Big Ten tournament.  Then, after running out for a cold cut Subway on an Italian roll, I enjoyed a 76ers win over Indianapolis thanks to 33 points by MVP candidate Joel Embiid.  Phil called to report on attending a week-end Comedy Fest with Delia, Alissa, Tori, and Anthony.  They had fun although unable to get tickets to 87 year-old Ed Asner’s one-man show, “A Man and His Prostate.”  In April Asner is coming to Memorial Opera House in Valpo.  I told Phil about being at Marquette Pavilion for Asner’s one-man show about FDR when he collapsed on stage and had to be removed on a stretcher.  A couple months later, he returned to Miller and fulfilled his vow to put on the show.

Former IUN professor Mike Certa returned from a cruise that included a stay in Hong Kong and just started “A Jazz Age Murder in Lake County” by Jane Simon Ammeson and noticed my name in the acknowledgment section as well as Ron Cohen’s and Steve McShane’s.  He emailed:

  So far, the first chapter is full of local references that I recognize in East Chicago, Indiana Harbor, and Gary.  The fatally injured woman in the book was taken to Mercy Hospital on Polk Street that I passed every school day for four years while attending Holy Angels Elementary School (fourth to eighth grades).  There are also references to St. Catherine’s Hospital in East Chicago where I was born.

  This seems to be my month for running across places from my youth.  At a recent political gathering in Crown Point I met an elderly gentleman named Frank, who lived in a house on Magoon Avenue in East Chicago (near the Four Corners) just across the street from Dr. Benchik’s office.  Dr. Benchik delivered me and my six siblings.  My mother insisted on him being our family doctor for years even though it meant trundling over to East Chicago from Gary.  His waiting room had the hardest wooden benches and the scratchiest horse-hair covered chairs I’ve ever endured.  However, we all liked him.  We went to him until he finally retired.  Frank knew the doctor and shared our high opinion of him.

After I told him about spending a month in Hong Kong a quarter-century ago, Certa replied:

  We were only in Hong Kong a couple of days at the end of our trip.  We stayed at the Intercontinental Hotel in Kowloon.  They have a really good dim sum restaurant in the hotel.  The day we had lunch there, we were the only non-Asians in the place, which we took to be a good sign.  The walnut encrusted mud fish balls were very good. Oddly enough, the people at the hotel didn’t seem to speak much English, and the concierges they didn’t seem to know much about attractions in the area.  We had much better luck on the street and in the subway stations.  There always seemed to be someone who noticed us and asked if they could be of assistance.  I’m thinking particularly of the day we took the subway, and a local bus to find the Walled City Park in Kowloon.  It was an English fort, then it became a slum containing about 15,000 people.  The city razed the slum and created a lovely park that houses some of the more historic buildings. We wandered around the park for 90 minutes or so.

While lecturing in Hong Kong at Chinese University, I visited that park by subway.  Numerous groups of well-behaved youngsters were walking in step behind an adults holding different colored flags.  I told Mikethat I may be attending a history conference in Singapore and asked how he like it, eliciting this response:

  Because I was still trying to shake the effects of bronchitis, I stayed in the hotel while Mary went with our tour group on the Singapore city tour.  They all came back raving about the phenomenal botanical gardens that line the river.  They talked about the amazing orchids they saw.  Evidently being 1 degree (85 miles) above the equator is a good climate for orchids. 

  As I was feeling better that evening, I booked what was called the “Night Safari” at the Singapore Zoo.  We were bused to the Zoo where we started with a very nice buffet. By the time we finished dinner it was dark.  You can do the tour two ways:  ride the tram or walk the trails at your own pace.  We took the tram.  Animals that tend to be nocturnal are in enclosures fairly close to the road bathed in a low intensity blue light.  They show up amazingly well.  The enclosures are quite big, and sometimes the animals had wandered off to the far corners.  I’d say we saw about 85% of the animals on the tour.  Near the end of the tram ride, we discovered a third option:  you can get off the tram and walk along the trail on your own.  We did this in an area where there were smaller animals.  We got to see the very rare pangolin (an Asian armadillo-like animal).  I thought it was an interesting experience.

 Kirk Muskrat and Winston Choi triptech

Maestro Kirk Maestro brought guest pianist Winston Choi with him to the Munster Center for his “Art in Focus” talk on “The Keys to France,” the title of the upcoming Northwest Indiana Symphony Orchestra performance.  Personable and entertaining as always, Muspratt wore a Number 88 Jonathan Kane Chicago Blackhawks sweater, as he was attending an ice hockey game at the United Center that evening as a symphony fundraiser. He spoke about French composers Camille Saint-Seans (1835-1921), whose specialty was organ music, and Maurice Ravel (1875-1937), best known for Bolero, a ballet that opens with a seductive 16-minute flamenco piece.  While dimming the lights for a clip showing the inside of Ravel’s home, Kirk briefly put a hand on my shoulder, either recognizing me from his 2018 presentation, thankful for asking him about Ravel’s private life (a bachelor, he lived alone except for a housekeeper), or perhaps  familiar with my blog.

Camille Saint-Seans and Maurice Ravel

Someone asked Muspratt about the Chicago musicians’ strike in progress, and expressed sympathy after mentioning that starting salaries were around $150,000.  The main disagreement involved cuts to the pension program. Another woman referenced the universally panned movie Bolero (1984) starring Bo Derek as a wealthy virgin looking to be de-flowered who becomes a matador after her lover gets gored.  Pointing out the steamy nude sex scenes, movie critic Roger Ebert wrote: “There are two Good Parts, not counting her naked ride on horseback, which was the only scene that had me wondering how she did it.” I checked out those Good Parts on YouTube and was amazed “Bolero” did not get an X rating.  Derek definitely deserved the 10 in the 1979 film of that name.

Young virtuoso Winston Choi, who teaches at Roosevelt University and, like Kirk, is a Canadian native, played bits of several Saint-Seans numbers and ended with a rousing crescendo by Russian composer Sergei Prokofiev (1891-1953). In the front row near the Baldwin piano, I noticed that instead of sheet music, Choi made use of a computer and a floor device that changed pages upon his command.  According to Muspratt, Prokofiev had the misfortune of living in the age of Joseph Stalin.  In 1948 the Politburo denounced him for the crime of “formalism” and banned most of his compositions.  His wife was found guilty of espionage and sentenced to 20 hears of hard labor in a Soviet gulag. Prokofiev died on the same day as Stalin.  Afterwards, I asked Choi the spelling of Saint-Seans, which he had pronounced like Sasson.  Rather than view it as a dumb question, he was very solicitous, even showing it written down.

Kirsten and Ed Petras; Night Ranger

Kirsten Bayer emailed: “It’s gonna be a great day when you park at work the moment Sister Christian comes on the radio. Hold please work while I enjoy.”  I responded: “I love Night Ranger and wore out my “Midnight Madness” album in the 80s. Had a similar car moment when "The Beat Goes On/Switchin' to Glide" by the Kings came on.”  “Sister Christian” lyrics include these lines 

Sister Christian . . .

You know those boys 
Don't want to play no more with you 
It's true

You're motoring 
What's your price for flight

When Phil and Dave were in high school, we showed up at a Jack Bloom end-of-the-semester party with “Midnight Madness,” which opens with “You Can Still Rock in America,” and had the back room hopping and people up dancing.  A YouTube video of “Sister Christian” that has received almost 18 million hits opens with girls receiving diplomas and concludes with scenes of them commingling with the long-haired San Francisco band.

Topsy Turvy

“It’s the Age of Wonders, that’s what it is

The Age of Wonders, I know ‘cause I live”

         “The Age of Wonders,” Hollis Donald

Hollis Donald and Jimbo in IUN library; photo by Muhammad Malik

IUN poet Hollis Donald (above) mixes irony with stoicism in “The Age of Wonders,” which opens with these lines:

Computers the size of business cards

Reconstructed body parts

Children breaking their parents’ hearts

Electronics that can see into the stars

 People with no hearts

It’s the age of wonders

To Hollis Donald, having seen and gone through many perils in the course of a topsy turvy life, just being alive is indeed wondrous.  One couplet in “The Age of Wonders” goes, “Just ain’t enough love in the world today/ That’s the way it is.” Another states: “A lot of good men have come and gone/ A lot of bad men still linger on.”  After noting that too many adults don’t care to be husbands and wives, he laments: “‘Save the children!’ I heard somebody cry/ But who’s gonna do it, everybody’s trying to fly.”  And this:

Now, look here, I’ve seen on TV men on the moon

I’ve seen whole families sleeping in one room.

 

A quarter-century ago, the TV sitcom “The Wonder Years” featured a narrator in his thirties looking back on his life as a middle-class kid (Kevin, played by Fred Savage) growing up in the turbulent late 1960s and early 1970s.  Less syrupy and nostalgic than its forerunner “Happy Days” (about the 1950s), the show makes reference to the Vietnam War, the counter-culture, and other events of the time.  In the pilot, for instance, Kevin’s school gets renamed for assassinated Senator Robert F. Kennedy. Former student Molly Harvey, in an essay titled “The Wonder Years,” recalled that, growing up, she wanted to be like Kevin’s older sister Karen: “In my fantasy my name would be Sunshine, and I’d paint little peace signs on my face and go to Woodstock.”

The phrase “topsy turvy” goes back at least 500 years and, like “head over heels,” means upside down, confused or distorted.  In medieval English, the word “turvy” referred to someone turning suddenly and toppling over.

Lake of the Red Cedars Museum 

The Summer 2017 issue of Traces featured a cover story on Cedar Lake’s Lassen Resort, whose origins date back to when ice was harvested during the winter and the hotel housed workers.  At the height of Cedar Lake’s tourism heyday during the early twentieth-century, Lassen’s expanded to include a restaurant built out into the lake and a dance pavilion.  After years serving as a church camp, the aging hotel and surrounding acres were used by Town officials until converted into the present home of the Lake of the Red Cedars Museum.  I visited the venerable landmark often while researching Cedar Lake for an issue of Steel Shavings (volume 26, 1997).

Thirty years ago, Archives volunteer Maurice Yancy participated in the Chicago Marathon, finishing well under 4 hours.  Sunday Galen Rupp became the first American in 15 years to win the event, narrowly beating two Kenyans.  Security was very tight, given the 2013 Boston Marathon bombing and the recent Las Vegas massacre.  In fact, during the summer the Vegas killer evidently had booked a room in Chicago at a site overlooking the Lollapalooza music festival.

above "Virgin Wedge"; below, John Habela

Jonathyne Briggs was trying to track down the identity of a steel sculpture that once stood near Tamarack Hall and now is stored near IUN’s Physical Plant building. Gallery curator Ann Fritz knew it was a 1972 piece by John J. Habela titled “The Virgin Wedge.” Habela was born in 1950 in Hamburg, Germany, moved with his family to Northwest Indiana, and graduated from IU in 1972.  He still sculpts and lives in Chesterton.

Austin Rogers won an eighth Jeopardy match despite not knowing two of the answers in the category “Presidents born west of the Mississippi.”  Hoover, Clinton, and Nixon were easy, but he blanked out on which President was born furthest west (Barack Obama) and, a stumper, who served the shortest time in office.  Answer: Gerald R. Ford, born in Omaha, Nebraska.  Sixteen days later. his mother moved to Oak Park, Illinois, to escape an abusive husband.  She remarried, and Jerry grew up in Grand Rapids, Michigan. 

At a Florida Gators football game in Gainesville, Tom Petty’s home town, 80,000 fans sang “I Won’t Back Down” at the end of the third quarter. Saturday Night Live opened with Jason Aldean, who was performing in Las Vegas when a mass murderer began his rampage, also singing “I Won’t Back Down.”  Next day, Vice President Mike Pence, no doubt at Trump’s bidding, left an Indianapolis Colts game after a few players took a knee while crossing their hearts.  Shame on him.  He missed a good contest.

 Maestro Kirk Muskratt

At Munster Center for Visual and Performing Arts Maestro Kirk Muspratt delivered an engaging and witty “Art in Focus” talk on “The Mikado,” which the Northwest Symphony Orchestra will present at Bethel Church later in the month.  He introduced characters by having audience members stand.  Frequent bridge opponent Mary Kocevar was Ko-Ko, the lord high executioner. Muspratt showed excerpts from the 1999 film “Topsy-Turvy,” about how during the 1880s Englishmen William Gilbert and Arthur Sullivan came to produce the legendary comic opera.  With Japanese characters named Nanki-Poo, Yum-Yum, Pish-Tush, and Peep-Bo, some critics thought the play ridiculed Japanese culture, but Sullivan conceived “The Mikado” as a satire poking fun at Victorian pretensions.  Muspratt pointed out the Gilbert and Sullivan both had mistresses, and that their lead actor was a heroin addict.  Hostess Jillian Van Volkenburgh plugged my upcoming “Reliving 1957” appearance in two weeks and told the seniors to wear their dancing shoes. 

A consummate professional, Muspratt had the program timed perfectly, leaving exactly ten minutes for questions.  One person noted that the line, “Here’s another fine mess you’ve gotten me into” later became one of Laurel and Hardy’s trademark expressions.  I asked whether, as in “Topsy-Turvy,” it was common for producers to take bows at curtain call.  Yes, especially at premiers, Muspratt answered. When he revealed that his mother played “The Mikado” soundtrack album at home while he was growing up in Crowsnest Pass in Alberta, Canada, it came to me that my parents, Midge and Vic, were in a performance of “The Mikado” at Fort Washington Elementary School. Also in the production, if memory serves, were Ted Jenkins, Fran Breitinger, and LeeLee Minehart’s mother; Bobby Davis’ mother played piano.  In the 1950 Gary Horace Mann senior play, chorus member Tom Higgins recalled:

  “The Mikado” was put on by Eulah Winter.  She had been tenor Jim McCracken’s teacher, and he’d come back from time to time.  They wanted a big cast, and it was fun.  I wore a comical hat and a robe.  One song had the line, “Bow down, bow down, the lord high executioner.”  Surreptitiously, we changed the lyrics.  There was a tavern at Ninth and Adams called the Bowery.  We’d sing, “Bow-ry, Bow-ry, the lord high executioner.”  Audience members in the know thought it was funny.