Look at me now

“I stretch my arms into the sky

I cry Babel!  Babel!  Look at me now

Then the walls of my town,

They come crumbling down.”

    “Babel,” Mumford and Sons

The Mumford and Sons CD “Babel” is on top of the charts.  You gotta love that banjo sound by “Country” Winston Marshall.  Recently they performed “I Will Wait” on SNL.  In Genesis is mention of Babylonians building a “Tower of Babel” in a vain attempt to reach the heavens, causing an angry god to scatter them and take away their common language.  As the saying goes, god (if there is one) works in mysterious ways.

Making national news is a statement Indiana Republican candidate for Senator Richard Mourdock made in a debate with Joe Donnelly defending his opposition to abortions for rape victims because, in his exact words, “even when life begins in that horrible situation of rape, that is something that God intended to happen.”   By that logic an omnipotent god must have willed the rape to occur as well, though Mourdock denies that.  Commentators are comparing this idiocy to the “legitimate rape” remarks by Missouri Republican Todd Akin; Romney distanced himself from Akin but recently endorsed Mourdock, who ruthlessly went after moderate incumbent Richard Lugar in the spring primary.  IU Political Science professor Marjorie Hershey commented: “Gaffes make a difference when they fit into a pattern that has already formed in people’s feelings about a candidate.  This comment about rape fits into a perception that Mourdock is an extremist – a charge that Rep. Donnelly has been making for months.”

I told archives volunteer Dave Mergl about my talk Thursday at Reiner Senior Center in Hobart and he intends to come.  I’ll discuss Portage Township, Gary, and Cedar Lake during the 1920s, then talk about Hobart and have ten folks read excerpts from “memory books” compiled by Hobart History Museum mainstays Dorothy Ballantyne and Elin Christianson.  Franklin Rhoades described skinny-dipping and fishing in Lake George B.S. (“before silt,” which killed off aquatic life and polluted the water).  I wonder how much it would cost to clean up Lake George.  It would be worth it on many levels.

Geologist Bob Votaw entered the Redhawk Café wearing a field trip hat.  At age 70 he started teaching again and this semester has two classes.  He taught a TV course that came on at 7 a.m. Toni watched it faithfully, and I found it very interesting as well.

Dunelands Historical Society board member Lynn Welsh thanked me for the “great” program on Vivian Carter and Vee-Jay Records, concluding: “It was a real stroll down memory lane.”

Archives volunteer Maurice Yancy helped prepare announcements for Tuesday afternoon’s Glen Park Conversation by attaching date, time, and place to poster blowups of the cover of “Valor” that I had saved from last month’s Soup and Substance event.  Public Relations assistant Terry Defenser lent me two easels for the Conference Center lobby and the second floor of the library, where the program took place in the Reverend Robert Lowery Study Area.  Attending were both Garrett and Barbara Cope, as well as Chancellor Lowe, Ron and Steve, librarians Tim and Betty, CURE administrative assistant Sandra Smith, and about 15 others, including two of Roy’s former teachers, Mrs. Brown (Art) and Anne Thompson (English).  When Anne made a comment using perfect diction, I recognized her as someone I worked with one summer 20 years ago in connection with IUN Kids College.  Host Garrett Cope raffled off items, including “Valor” and “Gary’s First Hundred Years,” which were the first ones selected.  I won a fancy red artificial wreath with green sparkles that will be perfect for Christmas.

Roy talked about his forebears, growing up in Gary (Cudahy, Tolleston, Brunswick, and Junedale), racial tensions during the late 1960s, attending IUN, becoming the first Latino state trooper, overcoming Guillain-Barré syndrome, and recently returning to his alma mater Valparaiso Law School to speak to minority students.  Roy’s first visit to Valparaiso was one summer to go shopping when as a teenager he was picking crops with his mother’s family, who were migrant workers up from Texas.  Also on the program was city official Ben Clement, author of “Giants on My Shoulder,” about Frank Steele, George Foreman’s sparring partner prior to the “Rumble in the Jungle” against challenger Muhammad Ali.  Fired after he got the best of the champ, Steele then gave pointers to Ali that helped him win the contest.

                                   above, Jimbo, Barbara Cope, and Roy Dominguez; below, Roy and Mrs, Brown

Afterwards I got Sheriff Dominguez and Mrs. Brown, his Ivanhoe art teacher, to pose for a photo on Barbara Cope’s smart phone, then had a student take a shot of Barbara and the two of us. Son Garrett, Jr., helped get them sent to my email address. 

On the cover of Rolling Stone is President Obama, interviewed by historian Douglas Brinkley, who labeled him the Progressive Firewall – the last line of defense in preventing America’s hard-won social contract from being defunded into oblivion.  Consequences of his defeat could include another Middle East war, disastrous Wall Street deregulation, ecological disaster, and the reversal of Roe v. Wade.  So the in this election stakes are high.

With the weather in the high 70s I stripped down to a “World’s Greatest Grandpa” t-shirt, inspiring a quip from Vice Chancellor Malik when he ran into me returning easels to TerryAnn Defenser.  It took me a moment to realize what he was talking about.

I’ve been in contact with IUN alum and kids’ lit author Donna Rae Rendina about the December 8 PopUp Art event at Lake Street Gallery.  She’ll bring copies of “The Golden Leaf” and inquired: “I usually have my characters with me in costume.  Is that something I could do?”  I replied, “Characters in costume would be fine.”  In “Valor” Roy talks about the Rendina brothers being ushers at Holy Rosary Church when he was a kid and that these” scary physical specimens” would demand instant respect when they’d say, “Hey boys, sit here and be quiet.”

Eighty five years ago Franklin Pierce Admas, whose witty newspaper columns, written in diary form, appealed to New York and Chicago sophisticates, wrote of having a new radio set installed and not having any idea how it worked, as was the case with his electric lights or telephone.  He found the advertising, in his words, “pretentious and silly, as when one man spoke many times of the slogan of a company being “You might as well have the best.”  He wondered how many conferences it took to come up with that bromide.

In bowling the Engineers won an exciting game when Melvin Nelson doubled in the tenth.  I discussed my upcoming Hobart talk with Jim Fowble, whose father Don’s reminisces I plan to make use of.  Game one of the World Series was such a rout I tuned in a documentary about Ethel Kennedy.  When husband Bobby was Attorney General, she and the kids liked to visit the shooting range in the basement of the FBI building.  Spotting a Suggestion box, Ethel wrote, “Get a new director.”  Director J. Edgar Hoover hated RFK and vice versa.

Japandroids

“Heart’s terrain is never a prairie

But you weren’t wary

You took my hand.”

   “Continuous Thunder,” Japandroids

“Celebration Rock,” the brilliant new CD by Japandroids, the duo of guitarist Brian King and drummer David Prowse, starts and ends with sound of fireworks or thunder.  In between are eight power rock selections reminiscent of the Replacements. Robert Blaszkiewicz, who turned me on to them, promised that one of their songs will be on his “best of 2012” list.  My candidate, “The House that Heaven Built,” concludes, “If they try to slow me down, tell ’em all to go to hell.”  I wonder if Chris Kern has heard them.  He’s living in Japan and most of his Facebook posts are in Japanese.

If Sheriff Dominguez was wary of me at the onset of the two-plus years we worked on his autobiography, he never let it show.  The excellence of the end result redeems that faith, I believe.  More copies arrived from Indiana University Press.  I am setting up several university appearances for him.  Times writer Jane Ammeson interviewed both Roy and me about “Valor.”  I mentioned how Jesse Villalpando a quarter-century ago instilled in us the importance of documenting the contributions of Latinos to the heritage of the Calumet Region.  Jane co-edited a pictorial history of Miller Beach and is related to Dan Simon, author of an article I used in “Forging a Community” about Mexican immigration to East Chicago.  In short, Jane has an appreciation of “Valor’s” importance and is a perfect choice for doing a special feature on Roy’s autobiography.

Anne Hathaway as Selina the Catwoman stole the show in “The Dark Knight Rises.”  While Christian Bale as the caped crusader shows signs of age, she is strong, witty, clever, and blows away the villainous Bane. While the general mood of the film was bleak, there were a few campy moments, such as Bane commenting on the lovely voice of the kid singing the National Anthem before he blows up the football stadium.

Anthony Rizzo, acquired from the Padres last year, is the latest “great white hope” to join the Cubs.  Since called up from Iowa, he is hitting over .300 and has had several game-winning hits. I spotted a student wearing a Cubs shirt with “Rizzo” and “ 44” on the back, undoubtedly the first of many if he doesn’t fade like so many previous phenoms.  Meanwhile, Chicago management has traded Dempster and Maholm, the team’s two best pitchers.

Because Chick-fil-a president Dan Cathy spoke out against gay marriage, some activists are calling for a boycott of the fast food chain.  In Merrillville a crowd showed up Wednesday in support of Cathy’s first amendment rights, or maybe they were simply homophobes.  I have no plans to eat at Chick-fil-A and don’t fault gays for taking their business elsewhere.  Recently the Boy Scouts of America reaffirmed its position of excluding gays, something more worth getting worked up about than the views of a greasy fried chicken mogul. 

I declined Jerry Davich’s offer to call in to his radio show Monday, preferring instead to appear in person.  He said he had already booked several other guests and that he was less interested in Roy Dominguez’s “Valor” than my views on other historical issues.  Having sent him an electronic copy of my afterword where I tried to make clear that the autobiography was a significant and original contribution to the social, ethnic, and political history of Northwest Indiana, I responded: “Let me know if you’d like me to appear in person on a future show to talk about the importance of documenting the Latino experience in the Calumet Region.”  Jerry replied, “Sure, Jim, let’s go with the following Monday.  Thanks for your patience.”  So a week from Monday it is.

Writing up minutes as secretary for the condo association board, I included this innocuous paragraph about Wednesday’s meeting: “Concerning the planting of shrubbery near the Easement behind Units 401 and 403, it was agreed that the board should comply with the assertion of Robert Lovell, Utilities Superintendent for the Town of Chesterton, that the proposed arborvitae should not encroach within eight feet of the cement easement.  In order to allow for growth of the shrubbery, the board voted 5-0 with two abstentions that they should be planted at least 11 feet from the cement easement.”  What I left out is that we have been having raucous disagreements over this for several months and that the eleven feet was a compromise that Leo Ronda and I orchestrated after much strident debate.

Gabrielle “Gabby” Douglas, nicknamed the “flying squirrel,” captured gold in the women’s all-around competition, edging out Russia’s Viktoria Komova. Gabby, Jackie Gipson told me, has Gary connections.  Her mother Natalie attended Roosevelt High School, and her grandparents, Theodore (a retired steelworker) and Nadean Hawkins, still reside in the Steel City.

“A Century of Music: 1910-Present” debuted Thursday at the Main Square Gazebo in Highland.  Dave, in charge of the sound system, sang “American Pie” and “Babe” and was in a Beatles medley that allowed him to give out shine on the chorus to “Hey Jude.”  It had been a stressful day, with a folder containing about 50 jpegs mysteriously disappearing from my computer.  It will probably take ten or 20 hours to track them all down, but, oh well, nobody died.  So it was relaxing to be outside attending such a good show with family and friends, including Robert, Maryann, and Missy.  The opening number was “Danny Boy,” one of my father’s favorites.  Youngsters loved “YMCA,” especially after being invited to join the guys on stage dressed appropriately in gay apparel as an Indian, construction worker, cowboy, cop, and biker.  The final number featured Stephanie Panchisin, dressed like Katy Perry, singing “Firework” with the entire cast joining in.  

I enjoyed seeing “The Music Man” for the second time even more than last week, especially because James didn’t have a conflict with “Bard in the Park” and could be in the final scene with the boys’ band.  In one scene Amaryllis (Becca) teases Winthrop (Lucas Reinhart) about his lisp, which becomes less pronounced as the play goes on because of Professor Harold Hill (Charley Blum) giving him more confidence.  I got home in time to see Jimmy Cliff performing “One More” on Letterman.

Rancho Mirage

“Never saw the sun shining so bright

Never saw things going so right.”

  Ella Fitzgerald, “Blue Skies”

I spent five days in California on the occasion of my mother’s ninety-sixth birthday.  American Airlines took me to Dallas/Fort Worth and then on to Palm Springs, where the weather was 110 degrees when we landed, down from 114 earlier.  I never saw a cloud in the sky the entire trip.  The sun was so relentless I could have burned a finger touching my rented Corolla.  Thanks to the Hertz GPS I arrived at my mother’s assisted living facility, Mirage Inn, and we chatted a while before I checked in at the Holiday Inn in Rancho Mirage and had two Michelob Ultra 22-ouncers at Applebee’s.  The next evening we celebrated at Shame on the Moon, named for a Bob Seger lyric.  I had a tender veal pot roast entry (my apologies, animal lovers).

At the motel breakfast buffet Thursday I watched CNN’s coverage of the Obamacare Supreme Court decision.  First reports were that Chief Justice John Roberts, writing for the majority, struck down the individual mandate section, but it turned out he merely decided it wasn’t constitutional under the commerce clause but legal due to the federal government’s taxing power.  Unlike the reactionary judicial activists he often sides with, Roberts seemed to search hard to avoid striking down the controversial legislation and emerged the big winner despite initial howls from Obama haters who wanted to see his most important first-term accomplishment invalidated. 

We visited Sunnylands Center and Garden, on the former estate of Walter and Leonore Annenberg, now a public trust. Walter accumulated money as publisher of the Philadelphia Inquirer and a racing form, then started TV Guide when fewer than ten percent of Americans owned televisions and Seventeen for teenage baby boomers.  He acquired the ABC affiliate in Philly, which grew by leaps and bounds after the launching of “American Bandstand.”  After receiving considerable funds from the Annenbergs, Nixon appointed the communications mogul ambassador to the Court of St. James.  On display in the Welcome Center were eighteenth-century gold server dishes once belonging to Prime Minister William Pitt.  Leonore, whose uncle was legendary Columbia Pictures czar Harry Cohn, was chief of protocol under Reagan.  The gardens were fantastic, designed ingeniously to conserve energy and minimize evaporation.  In front were four trees native to Africa.  According to the guide, when giraffes start eating the leaves of that species, as a survival mechanism trees would give off an odorous signal to others by releasing a chemical making the leaves repellent to the taste.

We had several meals at the Mirage Inn, which enabled my mother to show me off to her friends.  Shirley, age 97, is a live wire and very sociable, as are her other dining companions Dottie and Adeline.  A woman who was 101 goes without a cane or walker to a nearby Indian casino every Friday.  There’s a well-attended afternoon Happy Hour, and Friday’s entertainment in the Cabaret D’Mirage featured Mara Getz belting out old standards.  Many of the ladies were swaying and singing along or at least mouthing the words.  The hour program began with Duke Ellington’s “Take the A Train (to Harlem)” and ended with Ella Fitzgerald’s “Blue Skies.”  I had a beer and turned down an offer of seconds.

During the week I grappled with USA Today crossword puzzles.  For “Lincoln’s first home,” I guessed Kentucky only to discover later that the answer was “log cabin.”  The heart of mothers turned out to be “the” (the middle three letters).  My mother helped me with “wide lace collars” (berthas).  Because my TV got HBO, I saw parts of “Dances with Wolves” and “Crazy Stupid Love.”  I’m a big fan of Steve Carell and Julianne Moore, and when I saw the latter at the movies I hadn’t realized that the great Marisa Tomei played the horny teacher.

Nephew Bob arrived Friday with Niki and the kids.  Four year-old Addie gave me a big hug and Crosby didn’t mind my embracing him and kissing the top of his head.  We had a second birthday celebration at the Yard House, a huge establishment that had dozens of beers on draft and delicious crab cakes.  Saturday evening the kids swam in the motel pool.  Normally they hate the water, but Addie wanted to show off for me and, once in, loved it.  Crosby, wearing an arm buoyancy device, was fearless jumping in toward one of his parents.  Bob and Niki were bursting with pride.  Afterwards, while the kids bathed, Bob and I had an hour to ourselves at nearby Applebee’s and he filled me in on his new marketing job.

I recognized a hot-looking bartender named Natasha from previous visits and struck up a conversation after she sat down next to me and asked where I was from.  She’s been working there for almost ten years and is German on her father’s side and Southern (Georgian) on her mother’s. We talked about both liking “The Rocky and Bullwinkle Show,” especially the Russian cartoon characters Boris and Natasha, who were secret agents.  Natasha watched reruns with her dad.  When I worked evenings in the women’s cafeteria at Bucknell as a dishwasher alongside football players on scholarship, we’d often watch the show during our break.  Like “The Simpsons,” its puns and asides were meant more for adults than kids.

On both flights home a friendly blond woman was traveling with a small dog.  Before take-off a flight attendant threatened to kick her off the plane if she didn’t put the animal in its carry-on case.  She didn’t comply but had something indicating it was a guide dog and the attendant apologized for his actions.

Big doings back home while I was away. Cracker performed Friday at the Hobart Jaycees Fest beer garden.  The Michiganders attended Becca’s tenth birthday party, and seven of them, including two boyfriends, plus a dog crashed at the condo.  Sunday was SEIU stalwart and dear friend Alice Bush’s retirement party.  Sorry to miss all of them.  Awaiting me at home: a thank-you note from Dale Fleming for the proceeds raised from the sale of his drawings at Pop Up Art and, drum roll, please, five complimentary copies of “Valor: The Odyssey of Roy Dominguez” as told to James B. Lane.  The book looked fantastic; I phoned Roy, and he agreed.  I mentioned how cool the photo section was and that it was a shame Gary Martin, Bob Lovely, Jesse Villalpando, and others weren’t alive to read how important they were in his life.  Among the photos on the back cover is a shot of Roy and me.  In my Afterword I thank oral history pioneers Studs Terkel, Michael Frisch, Donald Ritchie, and Alessandro Portelli who broadened the parameters of our profession by their “from the bottom up” approach.

James Madison loves Henry Farag’s “The Signal” and will recommend to IU Press that they publish it as an Ebook.  That’s great news, and we are crossing our fingers in hops that it becomes part of his series on Midwestern History and Culture.

At lunch George Bodmer showed me the journal he has been keeping, usually a couple paragraphs about how his day went.  He even had an entry about getting hit crossing Broadway by a car, written from the hospital.  Alan Lindmark asked me what politician might become IU’s next president.  Evan Bayh, I replied, without hesitation.  Thursday the sheriff and I will have lunch and autograph copies of “Valor” to Bayh (who wrote the foreword) and others, including Steve McShane and Ronald Cohen, whose blurbs appear on the back cover.

The South Shore Journal accepted my article “The Dune Fawn: Diana of the Dunes’ Male Counterpart.”  Both reader suggested (and I concurred) that I delete two pages from Webb Waldron’s chapter on the “Dune-Faun,” and the other recommended revisions were minor and, for the most part, welcomed.  I am hoping to combine the issue of the journal with a reprint of “Tales of Lake Michigan” as a special Shavings volume.

All That Jazz

“Don’t you tell me I’m not the one
Don’t you tell me I ain’t no fun.”
“We Belong Together,” Randy Newman

Rather than attend the Indiana Association of Historians conference in Indy, I saw Becca in “Annie” again and went to a fourth birthday party at Riverside Park Clubhouse in Lake Station hosted by the family that cleans our condo. The Mexican food was delicious and augmented by barbeque chicken legs prepared by an African American named Willie who lives not far from our old house but on the Miller side of County Line Road. Except for a young deejay playing music at a level that made conversation difficult and occasionally putting on rap songs that weren’t age appropriate, we had a good time.

Tom Wade went to Madison, Wisconsin, to be part of Saturday’s huge demonstration at the state capitol, joining fellow gamer John Hendricks. He found the solidarity among unions, young people and other supporters inspiring. It reminded him of Sixties rallies, with music, fiery speeches, and a feeling of optimism despite Governor Scott Walker’s attempts to screw public employees. A pizza parlor was handing out free food nonstop as fast as they could make it thanks to donations that came from all over the world, including Egypt. Stopped to see ailing Ken Applehans, and we agreed that the capitalist bastards are their own worst enemies.

Sunday after gaming I went to a program at the Marquette Park Aquatorium having to do with the history of Gary. Greg Reising wrote a script simulating a WWCA radio show circa 1958 with various Millerites playing the roles of Mayor George Chacharis (George Rogge with fake nose and eyebrows), feminist Simone de Beauvoir (Karren Lee), radio host Vivian Carter, and others. It was pretty funny. Gene Ayers played himself at age nine reading a commercial for Ayers Realty. The highlight was Mike Carson of Emerson School as cool deejay Jesse Coopwood and mentioning various Black groups playing at jazz and blues clubs and the Miramar Ballroom. Then he, Garrett Cope, Jr., and Kevin Gatlin played a jazz number, followed by the entire cast singing “Gary, Indiana, Gary, Indiana.” Gary had some great venues a half-century ago, featuring legendary performers like Jimmy Reed, Jerry Butler, Lionel Hampton and the Staple Singers.

There weren’t any big surprises on Oscar night, and I agreed with the choices for the big awards, especially Christian Bale. The song category didn’t much interest me, but it was fun seeing Randy Newman accept the award for his work on “Toy Story 3.” And I was happy Trent Reznor won for the score of “The Social Network.”

Monday Sheriff Roy Dominguez made final changes in his autobiography “Valor: An American Odyssey from Texas to Gary, Indiana.” I emailed the chapters to IU Press and after Steve burned CDs of the manuscript and the photos, sent them off to assistant editor Nancy Lightfoot. What a great feeling.

The Post-Trib’s Jerry Davich recently asked for ideas for columns, and a racist suggested one on how an influx of blacks threatens to wreck the city of Portage. Coincidentally, we started subscribing to the Chesterton Tribune, a community newspaper that nevertheless carries more world and national news than the Post-Trib and has more of a liberal slant.
The Canright family has owned and operated the paper for more than 80 years. The first issue we received had an excellent article about the protests in Wisconsin. In contrast, an editorial in The Times criticized Hoosier Democratic legislators for fleeing the state to prevent a right-to-work bill becoming law.

Heard from cousin Tommi Adelizzi about news of the Lane side of the family. She’s upset over how unfairly great, great, great uncle James Buchanan is treated. Historians generally rank his Presidency as a failure – down there with Grant, Harding, Nixon, and W. I replied: “Philip Klein’s “James Buchanan: A Biography” is generally fair to “Uncle Jimmy.” Also John Updike wrote a long, fascinating essay about him as the preface to his published play “Buchanan Dying.” Since most historians believe the Civil War inevitable and even necessary to eradicate slavery, it seems inconsistent to then blame Buchanan for not preventing it. Even Lincoln wisely waited until Southern troops fired the first shot at Fort Sumter.”