“Each day as I
grow older
The nights are
getting colder
Some day the
sun will shine on me.”
“Big Man in Town,” Four
Seasons
Saturday: Vanity Fair’s June cover features a sexy
photo of Marilyn Monoe and inside are previously lost nude photos. More substantive was an article by
David Maraniss about young Barack Obama living in New York City in his early
twenties. An old Caucasian
girlfriend recalled how serious he was sorting out his identity while
associating with mostly Pakistani friends. The Prez returned to the Empire City
to deliver the commencement address at Barnard College, the female counterpart
to his alma mater Columbia. On a
somber note Everett Murdock has written a book entitled “Obama Will Win, but
Romney Will be president” How the Republicans Will Target Electoral College
Votes to Steal the 2012 Presidential Election.” Let’s hope not, especially if women vote for him in
landslide proportions.
While at the
library I checked out “The Murder of the Century” by Paul Collins about a
bizarre 1897 crime that William Randolph Hearst sensationalized until readers
all over the world followed the story.
At Chesterton’s European Market I spotted a dead ringer for former
campus Police Chief Andy Lazar, a gentle but formidable giant. Lazar mentored Roy Dominguez, the first
Mexican-American state trooper in Indiana (IUN just appointed its first woman
chief, Patricia Nowak). Selling me
two organic grapefruits from Florida was a woman who recognized me and claimed
I was her brother’s favorite teacher some 20 years ago. Marianne Brush had a fun Pre-Memorial
Day party because John and Lorraine Shearer were visiting from Traverse
City. Toni’s shrimp were a
hit, with Becca devouring many of them.
Sunday: After
going one for four in gaming in an Amun Re contest decided by a single slice, Toni
and I saw “Jersey Boys” at Chicago’s Bank of America Theatre. In addition to the great music, the
play shed light on Four Seasons founder Tommy DeVito, lead singer Frankie
Valli, songwriter Bob Gaudio, and arranger Nick Massi, who sang and played bass
– all different, each flawed, but did they ever mesh. The group struck pay dirt
with “Sherry” in 1962, and the hits continued until Beatlemania and the British
Invasion. I saw Frank Valli and a
backup version of the Four Seasons in Indy during the mid-80s, and the songs
sounded pitch perfect although I believe someone else was hitting the high
falsetto notes. Valli is still
touring, as the play has brought him new fans.
The four of us
ate at an excellent Tapas restaurant.
We stuffed ourselves, consumed a large pitcher of black raspberry
sangria, and the bill came to $97.50, including tax. Near the Art Institute we saw Muslims protesting the Syrian
regime of Bashas al-Assad, whose troops have massacred thousands of civilians. On Memorial Day we had a cookout and
played bridge at Hagelbergs.
I got out a CD
of 1962 hits that included “Sherry” by the Four Seasons and ended with “Green
Onions” by Booker T and the MGs, “Little Town Flirt” by Del Shannon, “Palisades
Park” by Freddy Cannon, and “What’s Your Name?” by Don and Juan, whose
unforgettable last line goes, “Shooby-doo-bop-bah-dah!”
Columnist
Jerry Davich wondered what deceased veterans would think about the NATO and
Occupy Wall Street protests in Chicago.
While claiming that they died to protect our freedoms, he implied that
most protesters were feckless publicity seekers, hippies and ideologues. His
tone was condescending and his research nonexistent. In the documentary “Dear America: Letters from Vietnam” a
soldier who thinks he’s dying, wonders what he’s given his life for. He was told he was fighting communism
but realized he didn’t even know what communism was, much less why we should be
killing Vietnamese willing to die for their beliefs.
Tuesday was granddaughter
Miranda’s graduation. Beforehand
she starred in a soccer game that her school, Wyoming Park, won, 1-0. The weather was perfect for the big
day, sunny and in the 80s; in fact, had I not used sun block for the game, I’d
have been burned. Next year the
two Wyoming schools will merge, so this was Park’s final graduating class. Near the end of the ceremony students
chanted “last class ever” and the orchestra played the school song one final
time. Other than oblique comments
about choices and mistakes, some unimportant, others life-changing, by
valedictorian Autumn Vanden Berg, nobody mentioned the auto accident that
killed one senior, Timothy See, and injured two others, including the driver (a
no show) and someone who escaped with minor wounds and received hearty applause
from classmates (Miranda is in the first row, third from right).
Reporter Don Terry’s editors at “American Prospect”
want as assessment of Gary’s current mayor. I replied, “So far, Karen Freeman-Wilson seems to be
good at consensus building and projecting a caring image. The city is
desperately in need of money, and she appears to be honest and capable of
reaching out to state and federal officials for grants that will be essential
for progress. A nearly completed multi-million dollar Marquette Park
project will help the Miller Beach neighborhood, and airport improvements also
show promise. The jury is still out on whether she can turn Gary around.
Much will depend on whether Obama gets a second term and if the Democrats can
keep the abhorrent Mike Pence from becoming governor.”
