Foursomes

“The foursome attempted to evoke the Zen-like closeness of artist and subject.  Might such representations of the wish to perpetuate intimacy express at once the confines and yearnings of the singular self?” Carolyn Burke, “Foursome: Alfred Stiglitz, Georgia O’Keefe, Paul Strand, Rebecca Salsbury.”

Foursome usually refers to golfers, as in this joke by author Bruce Lansky: “Some golfers fantasize about playing in a foursome with Arnold Palmer, Jack Nicklaus, and Sam Sneed.  The way I hit I’d rather play in a foursome with Helen Keller, Ray Charles, and Stevie Wonder.”  Foursome can also refer to group sex as in this proclamation by a character in a Jeaniene Frost fantasy novel from the Night Huntress series, who says, “I’ll become a swinger.  That’s right – threesomes, foursomes, and more.  Bones knows about a thousand chicks who’d love to hop into bed with us.  It’ll be kinky, we’ll get our freak on.”

 Stiglitz and his 1918 photo of O'Keefe

I’ve long been fascinated with photographer Alfred Stiglitz, a pioneer of modern art instrumental in photography coming to be accepted as a legitimate art form as well as a patron of  artist Georgia O’Keefe, his model, muse, lover, and wife.  For most of their marriage they lived separate lives with O’Keefe preferring to be in New Mexico, especially after discovering Alfred’s affair with another model.  Stiglitz preferred New York City and summers at Lake George.  I’ve read elsewhere that both had trysts with Rebecca Salsbury, but I’m not yet that far into Carolyn Burke’s book. I’m still in 1916 when Georgia was teaching in Texas and likely still a virgin but writing passionately to both Stiglitz and his protégé Paul Strand after meeting them at 291, Stiglitz’s gallery. To Paul she wrote: “I wanted to put my arms round you and kiss you hard.” To Alfred she described painting a self-portrait in the nude from reflections in the mirror, adding: “I couldn’t get what I wanted any other way.” He replied: “I’d like to kiss your body from top to bottom and then enjoy a long, long sleep – entwined.”

During the nineteenth century John Humphrey Noyes founded a utopian community, Oneida, based on a theory of perfectionism and the practice of complex marriage that permitted members to be sexually intimate with a variety of partners.  The 1969 comedy drama “Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice” was somewhat of a cop-out, as when the two couples finally share a bed together, the swapping does not advance beyond passionate kissing, at which point the action stops and the couples return to their spouses.  In recent times foursomes have experimented with living together as poly families. Kathy Labriola, a counselor who describes herself as involved in a polyamorous community, found that few such arrangements last for more than a year or two.  She wrote: 

  I’ve seen several households with a primary couple who add another couple and eventually end up as a threesome. It seems quite rare that all four people are compatible and flexible enough to handle the demands of a poly family, and eventually one of the four opts out. I’ve also seen some group marriages where two or even three of the partners stay together for many years but the fourth or fifth partners leave and are replaced by new people every year or so.  It’s certainly possible that there are successful foursomes or moresomes out there, but my data is empirical.

Photographer Cindy C. Bean noted on Facebook that I used some of her work in Steel Shavings, eliciting this reply from Diana Rudd: 

  So proud of you. Steel Shavingsis a marvelous collection of history of the region. Professor Lane was one of Jennifer's instructors when she attended IUN. One of the pieces he assigned her class to write focused on 1970, the year I graduated. She interviewed me for her paper and it was excerpted in a Seventies edition. I talked about the fluff of that year.. so many others contributed memories of the really important stuff.. Vietnam, the steel mills, politics. But even fluff memories have their place, I guess.

I replied: “Diana’s memories of Lew Wallace and downtown Gary in 1970 are historically important.”  She mentioned her post-prom party at Tiebel’s in Schererville (still in business) with the live band World Column and getting a 1962 blue Chevy as a graduation present. Here is an account of Diana’s first job after high school:

 I began as secretary for a two-brother legal team whose office was located in the old Sun Building at 475 Broadway.  I made a hundred dollars a week, not bad for someone with no prior experience.  I received a Christmas bonus equaling a week’s pay.  Relying on public transportation was inconvenient at times.  I had to drive to work on Fridays so that I could run errands. I began to feel unsafe after a rape occurred during business hours, two doors down from my office.  My days working in downtown Gary were numbered. My bosses seemed unconcerned with our safety.  There were two secretaries in our office, myself and a girl from Portage, who were expected to work alone on alternate Saturdays, finishing up work left over from the week.  When our bosses wouldn’t rearrange the schedule, I began looking for another job.

At her next job as a claims secretary, she met claims adjuster Henry Farag, who sang with the doo wop group Stormy Weather.  “They were cutting their first record at that time,” she recalled.  

Thanks to Marianne Brush, I purchased four third row tickets to see Dave Davies, formerly of the Kinks, at the Art Theater in Hobert.  Alissa and Josh came down from Grand Rapids, and son Dave completed our foursome.  Beforehand, we met Marianne and daughter Missy at Montego Bay Restaurant, which served Caribbean food.  Marianne knew the waitress and her husband, the cook and owner, who came out and greeted us. Everyone congratulated Dave on being named East Chicago Central’s “Teacher of Excellence.” Corey Hagelberg, also going to the show, stopped by our table to say hi.  It was a beautiful spring evening. We had time to stop by Green Door Books.  Much to my delight, it was still open and IUN Fine Arts major Casey King was inside, along with the owners.  Casey talked to our group about his work that adorned two walls.  Nearby was Tom Lounges’ Record Bin, which also included a small studio for Lounges’s radio show and a seating area for intimate live concerts.  I found a favorite Night Ranger album on vinyl, “Midnight Madness” (1983) that contains “Sister Christian” and “(You Can Still) Rock in America” but the price seemed steep at 18 bucks.

Alissa selfie and photo, below, by Sam Love

Dave and I had seen the Kinks at the Star Plaza over 30 years ago when he and brother Ray hardly spoke to one another but put on a great show.  Josh said that when he and his friends wanted to play the guitar, Kinks riffs were the first they mastered.  Looking grandfatherly at 71, Davies, on Rolling Stone’slist of all-time greatest guitar players, could still play and had a serviceable voice.  He seemed delighted at the enthusiastic audience and mixed in Kinks hits such as “Till the End of the Day” and “All Day and All of the Night” with recently recorded numbers. At one point he asked if a woman he’d met when he’d played in Merrillville was in the audience.  “I remember, she was from Hobart,” he exclaimed.  We all had a great time.  Though I didn’t see them, Sam and Brenda Love were in the house.  Afterwards, she posted: “Finally a concert where I’m not the oldest in the audience.”

 The Beths

Back at the condo, I played for Josh the Weezer song “Take On Me,” which we’d seen the band perform earlier in the month, and “Billie Jean,” also on the Teal album.  I introduced him to the Beths’ CD “Future Me Hates Me” after he said he’d been listening to Australian punk bands.  The Beths are actually from Aukland, New Zealand.

After having prepared breakfast for Alissa and Josh, Toni hosted a Spring Solstice dinner for Angie and Dave’s family, including her dad and  a very pregnant Tamiya - ham with all the trimmings plus mussels and scallops.  Everything was delicious. Afterwards, we played the dice game Qwixx and Pass the Pigs where you score points or get wiped out depending on how the piglets land. Before dinner I watched an exciting 76ers victory over the Brooklyn Nets, as Joel Embiid not only had 31 points and 16 rebounds but a key assist while falling to the ground to enable Mike Scott to score the game winner, a three-pointer from the corner.

I watched the first episode of a series called “Punk,” hosted by Iggy Pop, whose Detroit band The Stooges were pioneers of the genre.  Iggy claimed the Kinks 1964 song “You Really Got Me,” with its famous guitar riff by Dave Davies, was an early inspiration, the only Top 40 hit, in his words “worth a shit.”  The distortion sound came from Dave Davies slicing the speaker cone of his amplifier and then sticking it with a pin.  Iggy’s mentors were the Motor City group MC5, whose trademark song “Kick Out the Jams, mother fucker,” roused crowds to a frenzy.

CBS Morning Newsco-host Gayle King made one of six covers for Time’s 100 Most Influential People issue, primarily from staying calm while interviewing singer and accused pedophile R. Kelly.  Adorning our copy in the mail was Taylor Swift - seemingly a poor choice since she hasn’t recorded an album since 2017.  She was on a Timecover last year for suing a radio host who groped her ass; I suppose her image sells magazines and in any case. the choices seem pretty arbitrary. No literary figure made the list.  On the cover of New York magazine: Peter Buttigieg. A sidebar listed Mayor Pete’s favorite books; they include Ulysses by Irish writer James Joyce and Le Petit Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry.  

A package arrived from the Abraham Lincoln Association.  Ken Anderson, a fellow book club member, gifted me a membership.  With a cover letter came a copy of the Association’s Winter 2019 journal, which contained an article by IUN professor Chris Young about the 1887 dedication of Augustus Saint-Gauden’s 12-foot statue of Abraham Lincoln in Chicago's Lincoln Park and its replica in London’s Parliament Square, unveiled in 1920.  In 1861 the 13 year-old Saint-Gaudens observed the President-elect standing in a carriage and bowing to a crowd of supporters. Four years later, he was among the thousands of mourners who viewed Lincoln’s body lying in repose at New York’s City Hall. Saint-Gaudens designed monuments to other Civil war leaders, including William Tecumseh Sherman.  His bronze of the Roman goddess Diana is on display at New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Senator Elizabeth Warren wants to begin impeachment proceedings against Trump and proposed wiping out almost everyone’s student debt, causing IUN grad Amanda Marie Board (below, in middle), who recently passed the National Registry EMT exam, to write: “Okay, you may have just become my front runner.” I’m still for Klobuchar/ Buttigieg – or maybe Buttigieg/Klobuchar.

Man on the Moon

“Moses went walking with the staff of wood 

Newton got beaned by the apple good
Egypt was troubled by the horrible asp
Mister Charles Darwin had the gall to ask

Yeah yeah yeah yeah” 

    “Man on the Moon,” R.E.M.

 Jim Carrey as Andy Kaufman

Over the holidays I watched “Man on the Moon” (1999) starring Jim Carrey as comic genius Andy Kaufman, Paul Giamatti as his collaborator, Danny de Vito as his manager, and Courtney Love as his girlfriend.  Among Kaufman’s zany bits were a unique Elvis impression and singing along to a corny old standard. He loved stunts and put-ons, such as wrestling Jerry Lawler and reading “The Great Gatsby” for hours to a college audience. The film was both hilarious and sad, as Andy died young of cancer.  As the credits rolled, R.E.M.’s “Man on the Moon” played in the background.

Toni, Marianne, Jimbo, Missy; photo by Angie Lane

Marianne Brush’s Holiday party featured a present exchange where everyone contributed a gift and when your number was drawn, you could either select a new one or steal someone else’s.  After three trades a gift was safe.  I stole someone’s 6-pack of craft beer.  Someone took it but another 6-pack was still available to pilfer.  I didn’t have it long; the thief first said, “I’m sorry,”then “I’m really sorry,”and finally, “I’m not really sorry.”   I ended up with a safe bottle of vodka since I was the third owner. Afterwards I jokingly told the culprit he did a pretty poor job pretending to be sorry.  He looked contrite and offered me one of the bottles.  I laughed and said that wasn’t necessary.

We had a full house Christmas afternoon for chili, tree trimming, and the annual March of Presents and even more the next day for our Christmas dinner and party. Among my presents were jelly, a belt, cool briefs Josh bought in Spain, and the party game Telestrations (for laughs, no winners). I learned Qwixx, a neat dice game, played Perudo and Texas Hold ‘em, and washed dishes while most others engaged in several games of Werewolf.  At one time I counted 18 folks at the condo, including many who slept over for several days.

I finished “Heirs to the Founders: The Epic Rivalry of Henry Clay, John Calhoun, and Daniel Webster.” My impressions were confirmed that Clay and Webster were, for the most part, admirable patriots while Calhoun was a pompous secessionist. Reading about the 1830 Webster-Hayne Senate debate during the nullification crisis, I recalled how school children once memorized Webster’s stirring defense of the Union.  His most statesmanlike act: remaining Secretary of State after William Henry Harrison died a month after assuming office in order to negotiate an important Canadian border treaty with Great Britain.  For more than a generation, Clay strove to find ways to prevent the slavery issue from destroying the country, an impossible task given western expansion.

Fifty years ago, what had been a miserable 12 months of war, assassinations, race riots, “white backlash,” and Nixon’s election climaxed with three astronauts aboard Apollo 8, including Gary native Frank Borman, circling the moon.  At the time I wasn’t much impressed. As Norman Mailer would write, it signaled a triumph for technology, which he despised, and the dawn of an uncertain age.  Now I am more in awe of the achievement and appreciative of space exploration.  Some asked why spend billions in a race to get to the moon before the Russians while there are so many needs at home; of course, gutting NASA wouldn’t necessarily have translated to more War on Poverty funding.

 Sharon Fisher

My 470 series helped the Electrical Engineers take two of three games despite opponent Sharon Fisher’s 582 series, 5 less than best women’s league score of the season (held by her).  I couldn’t figure why Mikey Wardell’s Kyle Schwarber shirt was red rather than Cubbie blue until he turned around and on the front it said Indiana.  Of course, he went to IU!  I kept my good ball in the car and two days later had a good time bowling with Phil and Dave,  the winner despite not having bowled since the three of us were at Inman’s a year ago.

Robert Blaszkiewicz’s “Best of 2018” mix CD contains some old favorite bands who are still making good music, such as the Jayhawks, Parquet Courts, Decembrists, and They Might Be Giants, as well as others I’d never heard of, including Superchunk (“What a Time To be Alive”) and Dirty Projectors (“That’s a Lifestyle”). Beach House again made the mix, this time with “Dive,” reminiscent of Beach Boys harmonies. I was delighted to find Kurt Vile’s “Loading Zones” among the 20 songs selected, as well as John Prine’s “No Ordinary Blue.” Robert explained that his annual exercise keeps him current with new music, that Superchunk delivers “a fitting dose of outrage in the opener,”and that “occasionally there’s a discovery that’s a pure delight”:

This year, that was The Essex Green’s album, “Hardly Electronic,” their first after a 12-year absence for this Brooklyn band. It’s a great pop record, stylistically diverse, beautiful melodies, and a lyric in the sublime song “Patsy Desmond" that stunned me first time I heard it – “Calumet City, Miller Beach, Chicago skyline just out of reach.”  

When I noticed “The Joke” by Brandi Carlile, it reminded me that once, when invited to a party at Anne Balay’s, knowing that she was a Brandi Carlile fan, I gave her a CD by the Go-Gos, mistaking Brandi Carlile for Go-Gos singer Belinda Carlisle.  Anne tactfully said she liked Go-Gos.

 Jef between son Jordan and John Hendricks (photo by Chuck Halberstadt)

Jef Halberstadt’s annual Game Weekend lasted six days, Thursday through Tuesday, attracting regulars from as far away as Wisconsin and Fort Wayne.  During my appearances I avoided the marathon games but did get in Acquire and learned a board version of Lost Cities.  When somebody asked Jef how we knew each other, he mentioned taking my Sixties course in 1981 and inviting everyone to attend.  I was the only one to take him up on it.  I have been a regular ever since, often with Phil and Dave. This New Year’s Eve I was home before dark and in bed well before midnight.  Good riddance to 2018, as Trump has shut down the government over his damned wall.  Since so many senior Republican Senators have retired, the only one left with half a spine seems to be Utah’s Mitt Romney, perhaps hoping, like Ike 70 years ago, to save the GOP from extremists.

Looking over the many Happy Holiday cards we received, including greetings from Rosalyn and Jimmy Carter and the message “Tis the season to ratify the ERA” from NOW, we heard from old friends (Phil Arnold from high school, Dick Jeary from college) former neighbors (Dean, Joanell and Ann Bottorff) and Seventies students Jim Reha and Kathy O’Rourke, among others. A few signed with first name only I had to ask Toni about.  William and Pamela Lowe’s card featured artwork by IUN students Casey King, Christopher Hartz, and Kimberly Variot.  Nice.

Do You Realize?

“Life goes fast

It’s hard to make the good things last

The sun doesn’t go down

It’s just an illusion caused by the world spinning round”

                            “Flaming Lips, “Do You Realize?”

Listening to music on WXRT from 1974, I was unfamiliar with many selections since back then I was listening to “Top 40” fare on WLS, but I did sing along to “Takin’ Care of Business,” “The Bitch Is Back, and “Bad Company.”  I enjoyed Brian Ferry’s rendition of “The In Crowd,” recorded ten years earlier by Dobie Gray and the jazz group Ramsey Lewis Trio. WXRT touted that evening’s Taste of Chicago Flaming Lips concert, which Marianne and Missy Brush attended.  I put on the Lips’ “The Soft Bulletin” (1999) CD, which contains “The Spiderbite Song” and “Waiting for a Superman.”

 above, Wayne Coyle of Flaming Lips; below, Flaming Lips fans

In a Time review of “Eighth Grade” was the acronym ASMR, which stands for Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response.  The reference was to online videos evidently popular with teens and meant to relax viewers. Examples are gentle whispering, lip smacking, nail tapping, and rhythmic hand movements.  I hope “Eighth Grade” comes to Portage or Valpo.  In all likelihood, it’s more sophisticated than current hits “Ant-Man and the Wasp” and “Hotel Transylvania 3: Summer Vacation.”

At Memorial Opera House VU student  Carley Kolsch starred as Elle Woods in the lively musical “Legally Blonde,” based on the 2001 Reese Witherspoon movie.  The far-fetched plot has a California sorority cheerleader being accepted to Harvard Law School.  The boyfriend she wanted to impress turns out to be more shallow than she, once she gains self-confidence.  Westville theater teacher Erin Sharpe played lesbian law student Enid; two minor characters danced and kissed passionately once exposed as gay lovers.  There were cameo canine appearances by tiny Bruiser Woods and huge Rufus MacDonald. In the sold-out audience were bowling buddies Gene Clifford and Dorothy Peterson, who recently returned from a road trip to the Grand Canyon and will soon depart for the Florida Everglades.  “Mamma Mia!” is on the 2019 schedule!

above, Pussy Riot protest; below, Mbappe

 

In Moscow France leading Croatia, 2-1, in the World Cup when four Pussy Riot protestors dressed as law enforcement officials ran onto the field, protesting illegal arrests of dissidents, including Oleg Sentsov, sentenced to 20 years on bogus charges of conspiring to commit terror acts for opposing Russia’s annexation of Crimea from Ukraine.  The TV announcers made no attempt to explain the interruption.  One protester gave 19-year-old French star Kylian Mbappe a double high-five.  A few minutes later Mbappe connected on a brilliant shot from 25 yards, the youngest player to score in the final match since Brazilian soccer god Pele in 1958 at age 17.  Phil, Delia, Alissa, and Josh watched at Grand Rapids Garage Bar and Grill.

Helsinki, Finland was the site of a meeting between Trump and Putin, as well as the scene of anti-Trump protests.  CBS correspondent Major Garrett appeared to be reporting from Market Square, as I recognized Helsinki Cathedral and government buildings in the background.  Dan Rather posted: “The President trusts the word of a former KGB agent over the consensus of the American intelligence community.  This is a shocking reality.  Everyone who excuses Trump’s behavior must answer that now, and when history inevitably judges.”Trump’s refusal to acknowledge Russia’s past and continuing interference in our election process, despite a dozen recent indictments of Russian operatives by the Mueller investigators, produced this diatribe by Ray Smock:

For the first time in American History the United States has TWO presidents: Vladimir Putin and his puppet Donald Trump. This is appalling and unconstitutional. This was not a Summit it was an American capitulation! Do we have ANYONE in Congress who is still an American patriot? Anyone in Congress with Courage? This was grounds for IMPEACHMENT!

According to IUN student Brenda “Kay-Kay” Auxier, Lauren Winicky grew up in Glen Park and was the youngest of three. At age 19 she married Bruce Unland, and they got into bowling as a hobby they could enjoy together. Winicky wrote:

       They joined a Sunday night bowling league at Hobart Lanes and went out and bought bowling shoes the night before. The first week they used house balls and shebowled a 112, the lowest score in the league that night.  Humiliated, she decided to start taking bowling seriously. On Tuesdays and Fridays, she and Bruce worked on their bowling skillsat Hobart Lanes. A few weekslater,they bought their own balls. Since Kay-Kay had trouble keeping her wrist straight, she bought a brace for better ball control.  Seven weekslater, Kay-Kay bowled a 178, a huge accomplishment for the young bowler. 

      What started as a casual hobby turned into a family lifestyle. In the late 70’s and 80’s, Bruce and Kay-Kay found themselves in bowling alleys most nights of the week. Their children competed in youth leagues. Daughter Brenda recalled, “My favorite thing about growing up in the bowling alley was always being around my friends. The regulars up at Hobart Lanes were pretty much family. It was such a great community feeling.”In addition to Sundays at Hobart Lanes, the couple also joined other leagues, which Kay-Kay believes made her a better bowler. She explained, “Every alley will oil their lanes differently. You have to bowl on a lane for a bit to see where you have to place your ball.” 

      Kay-Kay described  reacting to her husband’s first 300: “I could not believe it at first. Then all of a sudden, over the loud speaker, the owner announces that Bruce Unland just bowled a perfect game. He ran over to me and spun me around. I was so happy for him but a bit jealous.”Her highest game was a 298. 

Jake and Kay-Kay

      Kay-Kay’s grandson Jake was present for Bruce’s second 300 at Camelot in November of 2004. He and brother Dustin were bowling in a youth league before the adultleague started. Jake recalled: “When I saw my grandpa get his second 300, I knew that I wanted to be just like him. He had gotten pretty big around the area. When he walked into bowling alleys in the region, everybody knew him.”Seeing Jake’s passion for bowling andwatching him improve each weekled Kay-Kay to apply for a bowling coach position at Thomas A. Edison Junior-Senior High School in Hobart. She was hired on the spot. Kay-Kay coached girls bowling at Edison for four years and turned the program around. She said, “When I first got there, the team was not even practicing together. They would practice on their own and an honor system was in place. The first thing I told the girls was that from now on, we practice three times a week as a team.”  Sometimes Jake came to the practices and later bowled varsity for Portage, following in Dustin's footsteps. Her third and fourth year at Edison, they were sectional runners-up. Unfortunately, Kay-Kay had to resign from coaching at Edison when Bruce got sick. “I am so proud to be a part of what that program is today. I have been able to coach so many great kids. It makes my heart warm to know how many lives I have influenced,”Kay-Kaysaid, adding, “The whole dynamic changes when you start coaching. You start thinking about strategy. It becomes more than just trying to throw strikes.” 

      Kay-Kay continued to coach Jake through high school. She recalled: “It was hard his senior year because Bruce had passed away the year before.  But we knew that Bruce would be looking down on us and watching us do what we love. In the sectionals Portage upset Michigan City, winning just by one spare. The tension was insane. No one said a word as we watched both teams tie up with one another over and over.”She admits shedding tears when she saw her grandson garner individual honors and his team win the match. 

In Richard Russo’s Bridge of Sighs” Lou Lynch wonders, “Who cares about a single life beyond the one whose task is to live?  Why scan the past for the shapes and meanings it surrenders so reluctantly, if you mean to suppress some and exaggerate others?”  Tess, Lou’s mother, was strong and practical while his dad was a dreamer whom Lou invariably sided with, to the extent that she sometimes believed he didn’t love her. Lou Senior’s had a brother named Declan (Elvis Costello’s given name), who knew Tess during her wild teenage days and whom young Lou rightly regarded as an untrustworthy scamp.In Bridge of Sighs” 

Waterfront Inn before and after fire; Post-Trib photos by Carole Carlson and Craig Lyons

Fire destroyed Waterfront Inn, a former bar and dance hall located in New Chicago on the banks of Deep River just days before the eyesore was scheduled to be demolished to make way for a park. The fire may lead to a more rapid demolition since the site is now a health and safety hazard.  Located in Hobart Township, tiny New Chicago, whose total area is less than one square mile, has fewer than 2,000 residents.  New Chicago’s website contains this information:

New Chicago boasts its own police station, a volunteer fire department, water department, three small parks, one gas station, Pizza Hut, [La Ranchero] Mexican Restaurant, and many other businesses.  Up until 1977 there was one police officer in town and the dispatcher answered the phones from his home day and night. New Chicago has Interstate 80/94 to the North, Route 6 (Ridge Road) to the South, Interstate 65 to the West, and Indiana Route 51 to the East.  We are a small blue-collar community where everyone knows your name.  According to a former barber in town, there were 30 drug store licenses in New Chicago at one time.  During Prohibition, if you had a drug store license, you could set a bottle of aspirin on the shelf, call yourself a drugstore, and sell wine and beer.  It was quite a bootleg place in those days.

Barbara Mort and History student Courtney Nagel communicated by email before they met in person at her home in Chesterton.  Barbara showed Courtney photos of her family, friends, and beloved pets, and provided her with the following information:

       Born on September 1, 1935, Barbara grew up in North Manchester, Indiana.  An only child, she was very close to her maternal grandfather John, who passed on to her his love of horses.  Her grandmother Cora ran a kennel and bred show dogs. Thus, Barbara grew up around horses and dogs.  She could teach a pony to sit and lay down like a dog and got her own horse when just nine.  Soon after high school Barbara got married and by the age of 22 had three children, Penny, Kathy, and Greg.  She went on to have a successful career in banking, eventually rising to the position of vice president.  In 1983, she moved to Chesterton when a bank manager offered her twice the salary she was earning downstate.  She loves to travel and is very active in Rotary.  Her toughest challenges were undergoing a divorce and losing both her daughters to cancer just nine months apart.  She said if she could change anything in her life, she would not have gotten married so early and gone to college instead.  Barbara passed on her love of horses to granddaughter Brogan, who has competed in jumping shows.

      A large part of Barbara’s life involves bridge.  She grew up playing euchre, which uses a 32-card deck (nine through Ace) and involves winning tricks and playing with a partner. She didn’t learn bridge until she and her husband were living in Tampa, Florida.  A military couple taught them on condition that they’d agree to play at least two times a week.  Later Barbara had a boyfriend named Fred who played gin rummy, and Barbara persuaded him to take bridge lessons with her at Woodmar Country Club.  She said that in bridge one never stops learning.  On Tuesday evenings she and bridge partner Kris Prohl compete in duplicate, and most Mondays they get together at her home to practice bidding.  Barbara often makes soup or a salad for the occasion. 

I had another mediocre night at bridge, being too cautious when I should have been bold and vice versa.  One hand, I was in 6 No-Trump and needed either for Diamonds to break 3-3 or, failing that, a Club finesse to succeed.  Diamonds broke 4-2 and Chuck Tomes covered my Club Queen with the King for the setting trick.  Terry Bauer’s daughter arrived in Hong Kong to start a new job just as a typhoon was threatening the island.  I told him that pet birds are popular among Hong Kong residents who lived in tiny apartments.  On TV recently forced I saw a Japanese man forced evacuate his apartment being interviewed and he had a caged bird with him.

Halloween

Missy and Marianne Brush

“He made too many enemies
Of the people who would keep us on our knees”

         “The Ballad of Peter Pumpkinhead,” XTC

When he was in high school 30 years ago, Robert Blaszkiewicz turned me on to the British post-punk band XTC, which rarely toured because frontman Andy Partridge often experienced uncontrollable stage fright.  On Halloween WXRT played “The Ballad of Peter Pumpkinhead,” even though its connection to All Saints Day is tenuous. Here’s my favorite verse:

Peter Pumpkinhead put to shame
Governments who would slur his name
Plots and sex scandals failed outright
Peter merely said
Any kind of love is alright

But he made too many enemies
Of the people who would keep us on our knees
Hooray for Peter Pumpkin
Who'll pray for Peter Pumpkinhead?

Growing up in Fort Washington, PA, I’d go Halloweening, and neighbors would beseech us to come inside so they could guess who you were. Last night, Toni and I gave out candy to plenty of Halloweeners in nice costumes, but nary a one was wearing a mask.  That made sense in terms of comfort and safety, plus we could recognize kids we knew.  James, however, dressed as Papyrus, a major character in the role-playing video game Undertale.

 James as Papyrus

When my family moved to a new suburban subdivision outside Detroit in the mid-Fifties, the houses were close together and homeowners just distributed treats without fanfare, allowing us to really cash in.  One year, I went trick or treating with Phil and Dave in Miller as an outlaw and received more candy than they did; maybe I seemed threatening.  On isolated Maple Place, within the National Lakeshore, we got virtually no Halloween traffic except friends who made a special trip.  When Alissa lived with us, we’d drive her to neighborhoods in Hobart and Miller.  One year it was pouring, and she really cleaned up since few kids were out and folks felt sorry for her.

 Frank Leslie's Illustrated cartoon: 1876 Republican candidates Henry Wilson, James G. Blaine, 

Roscoe Conkling, Oliver Morton, Elihu Washburn

The current issue of Indiana Magazine of History contained A. James Fuller’s “‘A Bloody Shirt and a Pair of Ripe Ruby Lips’: Reconstruction, Sex Scandals, and Oliver P. Morton’s Bid for the Presidency in 1876.” A wartime governor and Radical Republican Senator, Morton once described the Democratic Party as “a common sewer and loathsome receptacle into which is emptied every element of treason.”  The Hoosier Stalwart was a top-tier candidate for the Democratic nomination in 1876 despite health concerns and morality issues.  Ruthless and vindictive, he was a notorious womanizer.  While governor, Morton allegedly demanded carnal favors from a woman who sought a pardon for her brother and seduced wives of military officers he sent to the battlefield. When he suffered a stroke, wags claimed that the cause was a sexually transmitted disease.  Branded a lecherous scoundrel, the Chicago Times, a Democratic organ, ran a story headlined, “Hellish Liaisons and Attempted Seductions by Indiana’s Favorite Stud Horse.”  On the first ballot at the Republican National Convention, nonetheless, Morton finished second behind Senator James G. Blaine, but Ohioan Rutherford B. Hayes emerged as the nominee on the seventh ballot.  Hayes would go on to lose the 1876 election to Samuel Tilden only to have a coalition of Republicans and Southern Democrats concoct a backroom deal that elevated “His Fraudulency” to the White House.

 New Yorker illustration by Nick Little

On the five hundredth anniversary of Martin Luther’s protest against the Roman Catholic Church that sparked the Protestant Reformation, Joan Acocella’s New Yorker article “The Hammer: How Martin Luther Changed the World” asserts that the story of his hammering the 95 Theses to the doors of Wittenberg’s Castle Church never occurred.  What Luther did was send his broadside to the local archbishop.  Most theses dealt with the odious sale of indulgences, but the most important theologically were sola fide (by faith alone as the basis for salvation) and sola scriptura (truth as revealed by the Bible alone).

At Chesterton library, I checked out a Specials CD and Finn Murphy’s “The Long Haul: A Trucker’s Tales of Life on the Road.”  I’m hoping that the author deals with gay, lesbian, and transgender truckers and adds to what I learned from proofreading Anne Balay’s forthcoming book.  Known by the handle U-Turn, Murphy drove an 18-wheeler nicknamed Cassidy, carrying belongings all over America.  The memoir seems candid, witty and, of course, written from a male perspective. In the Introduction, I learned that freight-haulers generally look down on operators of moving vans as bedbuggers driving roach coaches and that Murphy doesn’t buy into what he called the trucker myth:

I don’t wear a cowboy hat, Tony Lama snakeskin boots, or a belt buckle doing free advertising for Peterbilt or Harley-Davidson.  My moving uniform s a black cotton jumpsuit.  I’m not from the South and don’t talk as if I were.  Most telling, and the other guys can sense this somehow, I do not for a moment think I’m a symbol of some bygone ideal of Wild West American freedom or any other half-mythic, half-menacing nugget of folk nonsense.

In her Sixties class, Nicole Anslover showed excerpts from Martin Luther King’s “Mountaintop” speech and Robert F. Kennedy’s remarks to supporters in Indianapolis announcing Dr. King’s death. I was moved to tears and wondered how many students felt a similar emotion.  When I studied at Bucknell under historian William H. Harbaugh in 1963, an equivalent passage of time would have been the bygone World War I era.  Still, Harbaugh made the crackdown on dissenters then seem relevant.  I told the class about driving through Washington, DC, ghettos neighborhoods within sight of the White House that had been burned to the ground during the riots following King’s assassination and how Gary’s Mayor Hatcher hurried back from a meeting with President Lyndon B. Johnson to “keep a lid” on his city.

Aaron Davis (above), having embarked from Fort Wayne on a months-long trip to California, posted: “This is what an exhausted and wet bicycle tourist looks like. I'm sexy and I know it.”  He added:

  Rode 113 miles over the last two days, with over a mile of climbing, through the cold and rain of the Kentucky autumn. Suffice to say I'm pleased with my willingness to push myself while on the bike. On the other hand, I still have plenty of room for growth when it comes to shunning comfort after my rides are finished. Spending too much money on motels. What can I say? I like showers and beds and electricity. Crazy, right? Anyway, I could wax philosophical about how I should feel regarding how I do feel, but I need to go to bed. Riding to mammoth cave national park tomorrow, where I'll camp one or two nights. Then probably to Nashville. Oh, I reached the 500-mile mark today, on day 15 of my tour. Not too shabby.

Lane Family Album

above, Angie; below, Becca and James as Papyrus

Miranda's family at Parkview Elementary party

Dave with Jennifer Nemier and Nayeli Arredondo Guerra