The Sunday Memory Drawer - The Spirituality of Me, Part 1

 

Well, COVID or not, it's the Lenten season.  Hmm, maybe I can give up wearing masks this year.   What do you say, Dr. Fauci? 

Regardless of the calamities around us, Lent offers a mandate for self reflection. So, I'll join in here on the next few Sundays. Self reflecting.  Where did it start for me?

Well, at my childhood church which is pictured above in its current condition.
St. Peter's Evangelical Lutheran Church on East 219th Street in the Bronx. Still there, although now there is the recent addition of a fellowship hall to the building's right. Remarkably, the main portion of the church looks the same as it did when I first walked through its doors when I was around four or five.

Actually, I was in there a little sooner than that. I was baptized there at the age of four months. Despite my usually astute photographic memory, I recall little about that day. I am guessing my parents were in attendance, although I would not be shocked if my mother stayed home with one of her sinus headaches. And I'm pretty sure the sprinkling of the water would have freaked me out. But, I figure this was one of those mega-family events that dragged out from the woodwork every distant relative or friend. After all, there was the post-christening promise of good food and even better booze.

It was fitting that my family was there in this church on that day because pretty much everybody in our tribe attended St. Peter's. In European countries around the turn of the 20th century, the village church was the fulcrum of all activity. Everybody was the cousin of somebody else. Or married to the cousin of somebody else. And all social activities centered around whichever steeple dominated the center of town.

Those traditions followed these folks when they migrated to the United States. My grandparents and their compatriots all came from Germany and landed within a ten block radius. The center of the circle? St. Peter's. And, from everything my grandmother told me, pretty much everything they did for fun back when had some direct or remote connection to the church. Dances, parties, weddings, funerals. My family alone probably managed to keep the place open 24/7.

Now, of course, Grandma's recollections to me about the church needed to be taken with several grains of salt. Or a whole container of Morton's Salt. Maybe even Lot's wife herself. Because, as I remember her stories, I have been able to now poke some holes into the plotline.

Grandma told me that our family helped to construct the church. I bought that hook, line, and sinker. Except my recent Internet research tells me the church was built in 1894, a good 10 to 15 years before my grandparents got off whatever boat they came over on. There were some other urban legends as well. When I heard that Jesus himself had gone to the hardware store with my grandfather to pick up some nails, I knew that Grandma's memory had become a little fuzzy.

But, the story she told about the gala party held to celebrate the burning of the church mortgage is valid. It is mentioned prominently still on the church's current website. This happened around 1944, smack in the middle of World War II. Grandma was also right about how devastating that war was for our church. Of the total congregation, there were almost seventy people who served overseas in the conflict. Indeed, there were five who did not come back. Grandma's son, my uncle and the person I was named after, was one of them.

I've gone through some of my parents' wedding photos and all of them show off St. Peter's Church in glorious black and white. Probably fitting that they were not in color since my mother had experienced a nasty sunburn that day. To get a healthy tan for the wedding, she had gone to an apartment rooftop, "Tar Beach," the day before. And promptly fell asleep. Still, the wedding photos of them exiting St. Peter's are still fun to look at.

Because, in retrospect, I don't remember seeing them at church very much when I was around.

While the church was a great part of my family's socializing early on, it became inexplicably less so once the next generation was born. Oh, the kids had to go to church. There was no hearing our argument otherwise. But, my parents, my aunts, and uncles seemed to get a hall pass on the in-person worship. From time to time, I would ask my mother why she didn't go to church.

"It's a long story."

I'd ask my father.

"It's a long story."

What had happened? I didn't understand. Grandma and Grandpa were still going. There was a conveniently scheduled German-spoken service every Sunday after the English worship. I asked Grandma why my parents didn't go to church.

"Go ask them."

Er, I did. It's apparently a long story.

And a mystery that was never ever solved for me.

But, dutifully, my dad would drive me there every week while I went to Sunday school, which began for me as soon as I entered kindergarten.

And sit in the car outside reading the Sunday funnies.

To be continued...

Dinner last night:  Pepperoni pizza from Maria's.

Classic Movie Trailer of the Month - February 2021

This premiered 30 years ago this month.  Yikes. 

Dinner last night:  BBQ ribs from Holy Cow.

As We Await The Day Where These Are No Longer Required.

 

Dinner last night:  Lasagna from the freezer.

It's That Time of Career

Well, here's another review of a movie I should have seen in theaters but, this time, I got to watch it via Academy screener.   Obviously, they thought it was worthy enough for award consideration.  Well, I wouldn't go that far.   But I have seen far worse movies of late and, for a chance, my eyelids didn't droop in the middle of it.

I guess the importance of this release is due to the fact that this is another starring role for Tom Hanks.   Back when he was younger, remember when he won the Best Actor Oscar two years in a row?  Well, he has always been a rather dependable and versatile actor.   With "News of the World," we get the change in his career focus.   No longer at the age when he can run after Meg Ryan all over Seattle, he now enters that stage in his career where...

....he will play "old man" roles.

It happens to everybody, Tom.

This film by director Paul Greengrass is a good one to make that transition in as it resembles an old time western from the 40s and 50s.   Even the slower and deliberate pace conjures up the thought of some of those "thinking man" westerns that starred Jimmy Stewart back in the 50s.   And, of course, this would not be the first time Hanks has been compared to Stewart.

Hanks plays a former Civil War officer circa 1870 who now goes from town to town reading the news to the citizens of America.   He's Walter Cronkite on a horse.   

In one town, Hanks meets up with young Jo-hanna (Helena Zengel), a White girl wandering around in a confused state and wearing Indian garb.   We learn eventually that her parents were killed by Kiowa indians and Jo-hanna was raised by the tribe.

After several scenes of governmental red tape that set up the inevitable plot, Hanks is entrusted to bring the girl back to her aunt and uncle.  This will be a long journey through western towns with nefarious characters and a dust storm or two.   If you're thinking this sounds like a mash up of "The Searchers" and "True Grit," you're right.  The difference is that those movies had several major gun fights.   "News of the World" only has one.  Indeed, this film plays out at a much slower pace than other westerns you are accustomed to.   But, still, it is engrossing and the cinematography is nice to look at.   More importantly, I was wide awake throughout.

The movie, of course, belongs to Hanks and Zengel and they are a wonderful pair to watch together as their relationship grows.   And Hanks makes the shift to an older, gristled role seamlessly.   It's a matter of time before they remake "On Golden Pond" with him in the lead.

This film is a great reminder that Tom Hanks has become one of the true American film stars.   Amazing given he starred out in drag when he did that ABC sitcom "Bosom Buddies."   Bravo, Tom.

LEN'S RATING:  Three-and-a-half stars.

Dinner last night:  Salad.

 

This Day in History - February 24

 

Happy birthday, Dominic "Junior Soprano" Chianese.

303:  GALERIUS PUBLISHES HIS EDICT THAT BEGINS THE PERSECUTION OF CHRISTIANS IN THE ROMAN EMPIRE.

As if this happening today in the Mideast is a new thing.

484:  KING HUNERIC REMOVES THE CHRISTIAN BISHOPS FROM THEIR OFFICES AND BANISHED SOME TO CORSICA.

Ditto.

1387:  KING CHARLES III OF NAPLES AND HUNGARY IS ASSASSINATED AT BUDA.

Naples and Hungary?  That's a pairing you'd only find on a Monopoly board.

1582:  WITH THE PAPAL BULL INTER GRAVISSIMAS, POPE GREGORY XIII ANNOUNCES THE GREGORIAN CALENDAR.

Calendar available with every car wash.

1607:  L'ORFEO BY MONTEVERDI, ONE OF THE FIRST OPERAS, PREMIERES.

Let the naps begin.

1803:  IN MARBURY V. MADISON, THE SUPREME COURT OF THE US ESTABLISHES THE PRINCIPLE OF JUDICIAL REVIEW.

Marbury by TKO.

1809:  LONDON'S DRURY LANE THEATER BURNS TO THE GROUND, LEAVING OWNER RICHARD SHERIDAN DESTITUTE.

Should have called Allstate.

1815:  INVENTOR ROBERT FULTON DIES.

Folly.

1831:  THE TREATY OF DANCING RABBIT CREEK, THE FIRST REMOVAL TREATY OF INDIANS, IS PROCLAIMED.

Yeah, now you pissed them off.  Or so says John Wayne.

1848:  KING LOUIS-PHILIPPE OF FRANCE ABDICATES THE THRONE.

Mon Dieu!

1863:  ARIZONA IS ORGANIZED AS A US TERRITORY.

Good.   Just in time for spring training.

1868:  ANDREW JOHNSON BECOMES THE FIRST PRESIDENT OF THE US TO BE IMPEACHED BY THE HOUSE.  HE IS LATER ACQUITTED IN THE SENATE.

This happens now pretty much once a month.

1909:  NELLIE CONNALLY IS BORN.

And died in 2006.   The last one to die of those in that fateful Dallas limo.

1920:  THE NAZI PARTY IS FOUNDED.

Dues are payable...IMMEDIATELY!!!

1921: ACTOR ABE VIGODA IS BORN.

Go fish.

1931:  ACTOR DOMINIC CHIANESE IS BORN.

Also quite the Italian singer.

1942:  THE BATTLE OF LOS ANGELES, ONE OF THE LARGEST DOCUMENTED UFO SIGHTINGS IN HISTORY.

Meanwhile, the illegal aliens will ultimately win.

1946:  COLONEL JUAN PERON ELECTED TO HIS FIRST TERM AS PRESIDENT OF ARGENTINA.

Not crying for you.

1955:  BUSINESSMAN STEVE JOBS IS BORN.

Some sort of computer guy.

1968:  VIETNAM WAR - THE TET OFFENSIVE IS HALTED.

Tet's all, folks.

1980:  THE US OLYMPIC HOCKEY TEAM COMPLETES ITS MIRACLE ON ICE TO WIN THE GOLD MEDAL.

A really big deal in Al Michaels' house.

1983:  A SPECIAL COMMISSION OF THE US CONGRESS RELEASES A REPORT THAT CONDEMNS JAPANESE INTERNMENT DURING WORLD WAR II.

A practice started by FDR.   I'm just saying.

1990:  BASEBALL PLAYER TONY CONIGLIARO DIES.

He never saw it coming.

1990:  PUBLISHER MALCOLM FORBES DIES.

Subscription cancelled.

1990:   SINGER JOHNNIE RAY DIES.

Now we really cry.

1991:  GAME SHOW HOST JOHN CHARLES DALY DIES.

What's his line?  "Corpse."

1991:  COMIC GEORGE GOBEL DIES.

Now he's really lonesome.

1994:  SINGER DINAH SHORE DIES.

See the USA...in a hearse.

1998:  COMIC HENNY YOUNGMAN DIES.

Take my life, please.

2006:  ACTOR DON KNOTTS DIES.

He lived two floors above me in this apartment building.

2006:  ACTOR DENNIS WEAVER DIES.

McCloud now with the clouds.

2014:  ACTOR HAROLD RAMIS DIES.

Who you gonna call?

Dinner last night:  Leftover London Broil.

Hollywood Then and Now - February 2021

 

Nestled in a neighborhood only about three miles away from me on the other side of Beverly Hills is the spot where you saw newsreels of the biggest and most opulent movie premieres of the 30s, 40s, and 50s.   The Carthay neighborhood.  Which featured the famous Carthay Circle Theater.

Allegedly, Walt Disney premiered all of this movies there.   It was supposedly a magnificent showplace.  A place that celebrated everything grand about Hollywood.

I love the fact that some of those theaters are still around in 2021.  But, sadly, not the Carthay Circle Theater.

Just what we need.  Another antiseptic office building.

So, while we still have the Egyptian and the Chinese and the Fox Westwood and the Aero, this one is missing.

The only sobering thought is that we still can't visit any of the theaters still around.

Soon.  Please.

Dinner last night:  Leftover Chinese food.

Monday Morning Video Laugh - February 22, 2021

 Neither rain, sleet, snow, or ice....

Dinner last night:  London broil.

The Sunday Memory Drawer - An Automotive Flashback

 

Having now my twelfth straight Toyota vehicle, I thought this was another perfect opportunity to remember the first one. 

The picture above is vintage and also a horrible reminder of the climate I grew up in.   Through the snow piling up on North Broadway in Yonkers, you can see my first cherished vehicle.

A 80's Toyota Corolla. Shitty Brown.

I was done using Dad's car, a 1971 Buick LaSabre which used up as much gas as you would get from a steady diet of sausage and peppers. Besides, it was uncool to drive and also not advantageous when chauffeuring friends who lived on narrow streets. I remember picking up a friend, the erstwhile fellow blogger Djinn from the Bronx, on her razor thin street in the Bronx. I seemed to scrape another car as I carefully steered the barge down the block. I asked her to check for damage.

"You were most fortuitous. No damage whatsoever."

Her eyesight was obviously no better than my driving. When we picked up the next friend, he extolled. "What the hell happened to your car???" 

Yep, I was done with the LaSabre.

So, I had a little money saved. The first sell job would need to be on Dad himself. I got the usual compassionate response.

"What the hell do you want to do that for?"

Thanks, Dad. As always. Nevertheless, I was primed and armed with lots of back-up information, thanks to my friend, the Bibster, who had already trail blazed the purchase of a similar car at Toyota City in Mamaroneck. Back in those days, you usually didn't drive off with the new vehicle. You had to wait for the next shipment to come in. And my car would take a little longer, as I requested a stick shift.

Not that I had ever driven a stick shift before. But, the price for a non-automatic transmission was about five hundred bucks less and every saved dollar counted on my budget.

Why I selected this crappy brown color is beyond me. But, this car was apparently so in demand that it took three months to show up. Finally, just before the July 4th weekend, I got the call. My car was in. Now I had only one more person to clear this news with.

Grandma.

If there was going to be a strange car in her driveway, she needed to know before she had it towed. Of course, the biggest surprise came when I was leaving to pick it up. I remember the scene as if it was yesterday. She was sitting in her "TV chair." With a wad of bills in her hand.

"Here, this pays for your car and you can take me shopping every once in a while."

I looked at the money. Five hundred dollars. Probably the cost of her car in her mind. Back in 1942. I didn't have the heart to tell her that the Corolla was going to cost fifty-five hundred dollars more.

Despite having taken stick shift lessons from Tony Maurino's Auto School, I couldn't get the new car home on my own. Nope, Dad had to do it, while I commandeered the SS Buick back to Mount Vernon. And, for the rest of the holiday weekend, I struggled to get the new vehicle out of the driveway. I was lost. I had no feel for the car and how the gears meshed. Finally, my dad returned me to the place where he had taken me for driving lessons several years before.

Woodlawn Cemetery.

"You can't kill anybody here. They're already dead."

Up and down the hills of the Bronx graveyard, I learned how to drive my Corolla. And I did so for the next ten years. As the vinyl seats ripped. As the roof rusted. As the antenna struggled to pick up FM radio.

But it was the car that I drove home from Game 7 of the Mets' victorious 1986 World Series. And, for that alone, I loved that Corolla.

You never forget your first one.   Cars, I mean.

Dinner last night:  Kung Pao Chicken from Chin Chin.

Classic TV Theme Song of the Month - February 2021

 Gasp!  This show is now 45 years old???!!!

Dinner last night:  Grilled cheese sandwich from Clementine's...the Friday night staple.

Len's Jukebox of the Month - February 2021

Certain songs conjure up childhood memories from me.   How many songs do I recall because my mother used to listen Top 40 Radio or my dad always had WNEW-AM in New York on the car radio?

Well, this month's ditty is due to the latter.   I remember it frequently riding with my dad on the weekly errands or maybe to visit a relative on a lazy Sunday afternoon.   Every time I hear this tune by Andy Williams, I'm in the back seat of that Buick all over again.

 

Dinner last night:  Salad.

Saturday Night Live Is Dead Again

 

Okay, I like to brag that I haven't watched this show in years.   Well, I can tell you that the last episode that I saw from beginning to end was two years ago when Eddie Murphy hosted the Christmas show.  So, I'm really fibbing when I say I haven't tuned in.   Because they air it live here in Los Angeles and we have all been locked up in our COVID chambers, I will admit to checking in for the first 15 or so minutes of each installment.   I mean, even when the show was good several decades ago, that was always the best part of the program.   The opening sketch and the monologue.   The rest of it?  Meh.

So, with my conscience now cleared, I will tell you that I am fully aware of the direction SNL took since 2016.   Almost every week, it began with an elongated sketch featuring the unctuous Alec Baldwin skewering Donald Trump.  The jabbing for almost five years was relentless.  Sometimes funny.   Most times, not.  And I found the constant reading off cue cards so frustrating.   I mean, look at the old Carol Burnett show and see if you can any cue card recitations at all.   It's because they were professionals and learned their lines.

But I digress...

Indeed, the lampooning of Trump was no different than other times in SNL history.   Historians will tell you that Chevy Chase's portrayal of a bumbling Gerry Ford contributed to his losing the Oval Office.   But they also didn't spare Jimmy Carter or Reagan or the Bushes or Clinton.   Indeed, the only President who really got a pass on SNL was the sainted Barack Obama.   Obviously, NBC told them hands off.  And, of course, you would get no argument from the bloated carcass of Lorne Michaels, who I suspect died several years ago and his body still propped week-to-week a la "Weekend at Bernie's."

But it was the Trump attacks that supposedly made SNL important appointment television every weekend.  All of a sudden, it was fostering a brilliance not seen since the days of Bill Murray and Gilda Radner.   I didn't see it, but millions of lemmings did.  Guffaw, guffaw.

So the occupant of the Oval Office changes last month and I am looking forward to how the addled and dim witted Joe Biden will be spotlighted.  Except...as soon as the inauguration happened, the tone of the show changed.

In the three episodes I have been surveyed since January 20, the political content, save for a few pokes at Republicans, has been virtually nil.   So, once again, the word has come down from on high at 30 Rock.

This guy gets a pass.  And Lorne the fat slob acts as the perfect bobblehead.   

Of course, from what I have seen on the air, the sketches are now even flatter.  The acting is even more uninspired.   The only real creative activity at SNL comes from the teleprompter's choice of magic marker color for the cue cards.

Yep, SNL is dead again.

And, oh, by the way, here's another pet peeve I have.   How is it that this show during our long running pandemic allowed to have a studio audience???  Oh, they are all masked but sitting shoulder to shoulder.   Social distancing is essentially just a rumor at Studio 8-H.   

I read that they have lots of protocols in place.   Temperature checks, contact tracing, etc..   Hmmm.   I am not sure I believe that.   Perhaps the powers that be wanted to ensure that their political mouthpiece was intact and could be heard loud and clear to gales of laughter in their final attempts to dethrone Trump.   

If SNL can have a studio audience, so can everything else.

But, from what I am seeing with the content on the air, the studio might be the only place where SNL can find any fans.

Hopefully, this mess stays dead this time.

Dinner last night:  Leftover meatballs.

This Date in History - February 17

 

Happy birthday, Michael Jordan.   This day also marks the first day ever of excessive perspiration.

364:  ROMAN EMPEROR JOVIAN DIES AFTER A REIGN OF EIGHT MONTHS. HE IS FOUND DEAD IN HIS TENT UNDER SUSPICIOUS CIRCUMSTANCES.

CSI Rome.

1500:  DUKE FRIEDRICH AND DUKE JOHANN ATTEMPT TO SUBDUE THE PEASANTRY OF DENMARK.

The Dukes of Denmark.

1600:  THE PHILOSOPHER GIORDANO BRUNO IS BURNED ALIVE FOR HERESY IN ROME.

Got a match?

1621:  MYLES STANDISH IS APPOINTED AS FIRST COMMANDER OF THE ENGLISH PLYMOUTH COLONY.

Myles to go before he rests.

1753:  IN SWEDEN FEBRUARY 17 IS FOLLOWED BY MARCH 1 AS THE COUNTRY MOVES FROM THE JULIAN CALENDAR TO THE GREGORIAN CALENDAR.

If your birthday is on February 18, 1752, you're still one year old.

1801:  AN ELECTORAL TIE BETWEEN THOMAS JEFFERSON AND AARON BURR IS RESOLVED WHEN JEFFERSON IS ELECTED PRESIDENT BY THE US HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES.

I bet Florida screwed up again.

1854:  THE UNITED KINGDOM RECOGNIZES THE INDEPENDENCE OF THE ORANGE FREE STATE.  

So I guess it's grapefruit juice every morning?

1864:  AMERICAN CIVIL WAR - THE HL HUNLEY BECOMES THE FIRST SUBMARINE TO ENGAGE AND SINK A WARSHIP, THE USS HOUSATONIC.

Who's a tonic??

1904:  MADAMA BUTTERFLY RECEIVES ITS PREMIERE AT LA SCALA IN MILAN.

One of two operas I ever saw in person.  ZZZZzzzzz.

1908:  SPORTSCASTER RED BARBER IS BORN.

Call a doctor.

1909:  TRIBAL LEADER GERONIMO DIES.

He finally jumped.

1919:  ACTRESS KATHLEEN FREEMAN IS BORN.

You know her face.  She was in every film comedy ever made.

1925:  ACTOR HAL HOLBROOK IS BORN.

And so, in a way, is Mark Twain.

1933: THE BLAINE ACT ENDS PROHIBITION IN THE US.

First round on me.

1933:  NEWSWEEK MAGAZINE IS FIRST PUBLISHED.

The waiting rooms of dental offices have never been the same.

1944:  WORLD WAR II - THE BATTLE OF ENIWETOK ATOLL BEGINS.

Sounds like something out of Star Wars.

1949;  CHAIM WEIZMANN BEGINS HIS TERM AS THE FIRST PRESIDENT OF ISRAEL.

Le Chaim!

1959:  VANGUARD 2, THE FIRST WEATHER SATELLITE, IS LAUNCHED TO MEASURE CLOUD COVER DISTRIBUTION.

Yep, that's a cloud over there.

1962:  ACTOR JOSEPH KEARNS DIES.

Hey, Mr. Wilson!!!

1963:  BASKETBALL STAR MICHAEL JORDAN IS BORN.

What were the odds?

1965:  THE RANGER 8 PROBE PHOTOGRAPHS THE MOON'S SEA OF TRANQUILITY AS A POTENTIAL LANDING SITE FOR APOLLO 11.  

And look...parking is free after 6PM.

1972:  CUMULATIVE SALES OF THE VOLKSWAGEN BEETLE EXCEED THOSE OF THE FORD MODEL T.  

This time, the Beetle is doing the squashing.

1974:  ROBERT K. PRESTON, A DISGRUNTLED US ARMY PRIVATE, BUZZES THE WHITE HOUSE IN A STOLEN HELICOPTER.

In the days before drones.

1980:  THE FIRST EVER WINTER ASCENT OF MOUNT EVEREST.

Whoever they are, they's freakin' nuts.

1982:  ACTOR LEE STRASBERG DIES.

Is he dead or just very convincing?

1996:  WORLD CHESS CHAMP GARRY KASPAROV BEATS THE DEEP BLUE COMPUTER IN A MATCH.

Reboot.

2010:  ACTRESS KATHRYN GRAYSON DIES.

Anchors aweigh.

2020:  ACTRESS JANET DUBOIS DIES.

Sad Times.

Dinner last night: Spaghetti and meat balls.

Len's Recipe of the Month - February 2021

 

If you think this looks suspiciously like the key lime pie I posted here several months ago, you're right.   Actually the recipe is very similar.   But, at the same time, uniquely different.   

This is Sour Orange Pie.

Now I found this recipe on America's Test Kitchen and you need the back story on sour oranges.   Apparently, this is a big dessert in Florida which is the only place you can find sour oranges.   But ATK (as they are called) had a great work around.   I liked it and I think you will as well.

First off, pre-heat your oven to 325 degrees.  Ahead of time, you will want to bring four eggs to room temperature.  Also thaw out a can of Minute Maid Orange Juice Concentrate.

Okay, let's start off with the cheating step.   ATK's recipe calls for making a crust out of crushed animal crackers.   For me, the Keebler pre-made graham cracker crusts are very reliable and a snap to work with.

In a big bowl, mix the following:

Four egg yolks.

One 14 ounce can of sweetened condensed milk.

One teaspoon of orange zest.

Two teaspoons of lemon zest.

Six tablespoons of lemon juice.

Six tablespoons of the thawed orange juice concentrate.

A pinch of salt.

Whisk it all up until completely blended.  Pour the mixture into the pie crust shell.

Bake for 15 to 17 minutes.   You will see the pie set but there should be still a little jiggle in the center.

Let cool at room temperature and then chill in the fridge for at least three hours. Or make it a day ahead of time.

Top with your favorite whipped cream.   I make my own by blending in some mascarpone cheese.

Enjoy.   Without even going to Florida.

Dinner last night:  Leftover pork tenderloin.

Monday Morning Video Laugh - February 15, 2021

I have been running into a lot of fun video series during this COVID world.   And is by comedian Anthony Rodia who is very New York and very Long Island.   He likes to portray his aunt and uncle in these clips.   Enjoy.  And mangia!  FYI, I grew up with people like this.

Dinner last night:  Pork tenderloin, spaetzle, and red cabbage.

The Sunday Memory Drawer - The Lost High School Years

 

Here is yours truly in his junior high yearbook photo.   Leaving the eighth grade behind.   Looking for new horizons and new adventures and new friends in high school.

Phooey.

It didn't play out that way, for sure.

High school has been on my mind of late.   You see, my senior class is celebrating a big number this year for a reunion.  There are celebrations set for the same September weekend as the 20th anniversary of 9/11.   Bad planning, indeed.   But you can feel the excitement and the fervor already on social media.   Zoom planning sessions have been conducted.   Folks are already discussing a postponement in the event not everybody gets vaccinated.   

It certainly is all the rage.

At one point last week, the Mount Vernon, New York pages on Facebook were filled with posts of memories.   And everybody seemed to be posting class photos from elementary school and up.  

I watched this all unfold and I had several knee jerk reactions.   One very much tied to the city of Mount Vernon itself.

I looked at all the third grade class snapshots and it was very easy to see the problem my hometown had then.   The school photos from the predominantly Black neighborhoods on the south side of town displays a sort of integration that model city planners would have envied.  I mean, in my own third grade class photo, out of a total of 25 kids, there were six....count 'em...six White children.  We were the trailblazers.   We knew how to all get along way before anybody else did.

The junior high school class photos from the south side showed a little bit more of a mix, but we were still sporting diversity in a very big way.  As a matter of fact, a few of us from those years have been regularly meeting on Zoom.  We got along then.  We get along now.

Now, in Mount Vernon, the commuter rail tracks cut right through the center of town and essentially created a sort of wall that Donald Trump would have been proud of.   The quintessential racial divide.

So, as I am surveying the elementary schools being posted on Facebook by kids on the north side of town, I was astounded.   Maybe I shouldn't have been.  But there it was in black and white.   Well, totally white.   There were virtually no children of color in any of these class photos.   And you could also tell that things were just a little bit more upscale on that side of the tracks.

It made me swell with pride again how much I enjoyed my elementary and junior high school friends, regardless of the amount of money in their family's bank accounts and...oh yeah...their skin pigmentation.    And, in turn, it reminded me of just how miserable my high school years were.

While there were elementary and junior high schools on both sides of Mount Vernon, everybody siphoned into one building on California Road for the high school portion of their education.  Suddenly, I was thrown in with a whole bunch of those kids from the north side.   In fact, once ninth grade came around, I saw little of my friends from the early years except for a quick glimpse in the hallway when classes were changing.

Indeed, I found most of the north side students a little pretentious.   And not very welcoming.   It could have been my imagination.   I tended to shyness anyway.  But, three or four months into my high school years, my usually low self esteem sunk to 20,000 fathoms under the sea.   I retreated into my inner self.  

I went to my classes and did little else.  When I hear today about how the children of my friends are so relishing high school, I am a little wistful.   I would have liked to do the class play.   I would have liked to sing in the school choir.   I would have liked a few more friends.    

Instead, 3PM could not have come sooner every afternoon.   In fact, during my junior and senior years when I figured out how to stack your classes, I was usually on my way home by 1PM.  Escape on a daily basis was my goal.  If there were dances, I wasn't there.   If there were group trips, I wasn't on them.   The closest I came to any extra socialization was sticking around occasionally for a school basketball game.

My high school years were as empty as could be.   And when I graduated, I looked around and could say without equivocation that I had made only one really good friend in high school.   The good news is that person remains one of my closest friends to this day.   But that was it.

Oddly enough, as I read the Facebook threads of some of those north side kids, all my past feelings of low self esteem started to return.  Oh, I'm sure most of them are sterling adults.   But not being welcomed or comfortable with them decades ago was still a lingering sensation.   

Miraculously, as soon as I got to Fordham University and started to work at the radio station there, my funk disappeared and I was out of the shadows again.  The number of friends I have from college that remain to this day is plentiful...the polar opposite of relationships I developed in high school.

So, with the inadequacy-o--meter stimulated by the high school discussions on Facebook, I began to consider not going to the upcoming reunion at all.  The jury is out.  But I will tell you another thing without equivocation.

If I do go, I will be sitting with all my friends from elementary and junior high school.   With a smile on my face.

Dinner last night:  Vegetarian lasagna.

   

Classic Newsreel of the Month - February 2021

Just in case you thought winter weather is a new phenomenon caused by climate change.

Dinner last night:  Chili dog at Carney's.

Your Weekend Movie Guide for February 2021

 

Well, there is none.   And I will not reinstate this monthly feature until movie theaters are reopened in New York and Los Angeles.

So, in the meanwhile, I go back in time and run a Weekend Movie Guide of the past.   This one features what was polluting our theaters ten years ago.   Back when we had even more theaters to visit.

The theater above is the National in Westwood.  Not too long ago, that was the area in Los Angeles where you could find four or five grand "single screen" movie houses.  This one went up in the 60s and looked very much like that decades.  But, the auditorium was huge and wonderful.  Luckily, I got to enjoy it a bit after I moved here.  On its site now is some pricey rental apartments and stores.    As if we needed more of those.

You may remember the drill.  I'll troll the movie pages of the Los Angeles Times and give you my knee-jerk reactions to the crap being thrown up on screens this weekend.

Black Swan:  Still haven't bothered to see this Oscar nominee.  Amongst my friends, I have a wildly swinging pendulum of opinions.  The bottom line: everybody under 30 loves it and everybody over 30 hates it.  Guess where I'm likely to land.

The King's Speech:  I'm rooting hard for this one to win Best Picture.  The best movie last year hands down.  And, yes, that includes the overhyped pool of sick otherwise known as Inception.

Big Mommas - Like Father, Like Son:  Some folks are bitching that there are no Black Oscar nominees this year.  Well, for the defense, I offer Exhibit A.  Because most movies featuring Black characters are as stupid as this.

Unknown:  Liam Neeson stars as a doctor who awakens after a car accident only to discover that another man has assumed his identity.  I've seen the trailer and I wonder if it was a little creepy for Neeson to play scenes in a coma so soon if his wife died so tragically from a head injury.  Meanwhile, wasn't this plot done like a million times by Alfred Hitchcock?

Carbon Nation:  A documentary about climate change.  More dribble about that oh, so horrible carbon dioxide which plants desperately need to exist.  You want to throw something into the recycle bin, you environmental lunatics?  How about this movie?

Vidal Sassoon - The Movie:  Traces the hairstylists' path from a London orphanage to celebrity.  Ooh, la, la, Sassoon.  Does he meet the Artful Dodger along the way?

The Last Lions:  Documentary follows an African lioness that has been ostracized by the ruling pride and left alone with three small cubs.  Okay, am I one of the only people who hates the glorification of wild animals???  The operative word there is "wild."  They have two functions in life.  To kill something for food and then shit it out.  The main reason why I hated Disney's "The Lion King."  Enough already, please.  Steve Irwin is dead for a very good reason.

The Chaperone:  A getaway driver newly released from prison is tempted by one last big score.  Starring somebody named Triple H and I'm proud of the fact that I have no idea who the hell he is.

I Am Number Four:  An alien fugitive on the run from intergalactic killers tries to fit in as the new kid in smalltown Ohio.  Big deal.  I live in Los Angeles and I'm surrounded by alien fugitives.  Intergalactic killers?  Not so much.

Immigration Tango:  A Russian immigrant and her Colombian boyfriend switch partners with an American couple in order to stay in the United States.  One of the biggest problems our country faces is played for sheer laughs.  I'd change the title to "Immigration Hustle."

Just Go With It:  Adam Sandler and Jennifer Aniston in a new dreary romcom.  Aniston and I just shared the same birth date.  That's my way of saying that I have nothing else to write about this junk.

Cedar Rapids:  The trailer for this buddy comedy looked horrible, but blogger Ken Levine wrote a glowing review, so I might sample it at some point.

Blue Valentine:  A snapshot of a rotten marriage.  I have many more in storage.  It's called a family album.  A tough way to spend two hours.

Winter's Bone:  Hillbilly angst that I Netflixed because of the Oscar buzz.  It got some nominations and I need rationale, please.  Academy members, e-mail me.  Sittin' in my rocker on the porch with my bottle of corn squeezins, I think this movie sucked.

True Grit:  Marvelous performances all around.  A remake that was worth making and that rarely can be said.

127 Hours:  I still haven't gotten around to this Oscar nominee.  Depictions of severed arms will do that to a person.

Kaboom:  Kerplunk.

Barney's Version:  Oy.  Jewish middle-aged angst overplayed by Paul Giamatti.  Another tough way to spend two hours.  And, to think that I thought this had something to do with the Flintstones.

The Company Men:  Ben Affleck stars and that's good enough reason for me to stay home.

The Eagle:  Has landed.  With a thud.

Justin Bieber - Never Say Never:  Sorry.  I have to.  Never.  The only people in the audience will be twelve-year-old girls and forty-year-old pedophiles.

Gnomeo and Juliet:  Gno way.

No Strings Attached:  Howard Stern has been pushing this Ashton Kutcher-Natalie Portman romantic comedy.  Howard, I love ya, but...

Sanctum:  What the submarine captain said he did to that German destroyer.  Yeah, that's the best I got.

The Rite:  Another horror movie with Anthony Hopkins, who now makes at least two movies a week.  None of them any good.

The Roommate:  College student Sara finds that her new roommate Rebecca has an obsession with her, which quickly turns violent.   If this is passing as entertainment, wait till I start writing about the folks I roomed with in college.

The Fighter:  Rocky Goes to Boston.  Overdone, overripe, and I was over it after the first 45 minutes.

Rabbit Hole:  Unless I see the Warner Brothers Looney Tunes logo at the beginning, I'm not going.

Biutiful:  Javier Bardem's Oscar-nominated turn as a dying homeless guy who also has no access to Spellcheck.

Dinner last night:   Wonderful birthday dinner of skirt steak at Jar.

Birthdays In The Age of Social Media

 

Yes, today is mine but this is not an invitation to get greetings.   Nope, today's epistle is about how birthdays have changed for all of us.   

And not in a good way.

I used to make a big deal about somebody's latest trip around the sun.  In some ways with some people, I still do.  I'm one of those goofballs who still buys a greeting card and sticks a stamp on the envelope.  I will make a point of calling folks on the phone for a vocal and more intimate greeting.  I will also make sure to know that a person has special plans to celebrate their birthday.  There is nothing worse than spending your own personal Christmas by yourself.

That is me.   And that used to be the way friends dealt with my birthday as well.

Used to be.

In recent years, I have gotten maybe five cards tops.   Phone calls....hardly.   And except for one friend who regularly makes sure I am going out for a nice meal, there is hardly any other celebration.

I used to think that this had something to do with me.   Or the caliber of people in my life.   But it's not any of that.

Nope, you can blame these lackadaisical approaches to birthdays on social media.

Sadly, Facebook has changed it all and not for the better.   There is little or no effort expended by people to celebrate birthdays.   Let's face it.   You sign on your computer and Facebook tells you who on your list has a birthday that day.   You click over and write a short message.   If you're feeling creative, you might have a standardized cartoon or meme in your directory.

Done.

No greeting card with personal message.

No phone call.

No nothing.

Unfortunately, I have gotten swept into this nonsense as well.   I have received birthday reminders for people I went to high school or college with or shared a Xerox machine at some entry level job we shared.   Except for this annual ritual on Facebook, I have had no contact with any of them for decades.  In some cases, I don't want to.   I lament how the hell I allowed myself to get connected with them on Facebook as a "friend."  But, it could be worse.   I actually know people who are Facebook friends with people they have never met.

What a dichotomy.   So connected and yet so isolated and removed.

So, since birthdays are now celebrated almost exclusively on Facebook, there is another element we must all deal with it.   After fielding all the greetings, you have to compose something in return as a thank you.  It's the yearly chore of trying to be thankful and clever at the same time.   More writing that I am not getting paid for.   

What irks me even further is the latest Facebook trend to set up charity funds for your birthday.

"This year, for my birthday, I would like you to contribute X dollars to Y charity."

If I did that every time I got such a request, I would be having frequent meetings with my local loan shark.  

If you're a true friend that I regularly communicate with,  I will consider that donation.   But if I haven't had a word or a meal with you since Bill Clinton was a faithful husband....forget it.

Once again, I return to a better day and time and person.   I will continue sending cards to special friends.   And calling them.   And maybe even buy them a meal.   

Back in the day when new technology was nothing but an exhibit at Disneyland.

Dinner last night:  Salad.

This Date in History - February 10

 

Happy birthday, Robert Wagner.   Take any yacht rides lately?

1306:  IN FRONT OF THE HIGH ALTAR OF GREYFRIARS CHURCH IN DUMFRIES, ROBERT THE BRUCE MURDERS JOHN COMYN.

What are dumfries and do they come with ketchup?

1355:  THE ST. SCHOLASTICA DAY RIOT BREAKS OUT IN OXFORD, ENGLAND, LEAVING 63 SCHOLARS DEAD IN TWO DAYS.

Well, that's not a nice way to honor them.

1567:  LORD DARNLEY, SECOND HUSBAND OF MARY, QUEENS OF SCOTS, IS FOUND STRANGLED FOLLOWING AN EXPLOSION, A SUSPECTED ASSASSINATION.

Death by strangulation.   And, oh yeah, explosion.

1763:  FRENCH AND INDIAN WAR - THE TREATY OF PARIS ENDS THE WAR AND FRANCE CEDES QUEBEC TO GREAT BRITAIN.

Back in the day when England owned everything.

1840:  QUEEN VICTORIA OF THE UNITED KINGDOM MARRIES PRINCE ALBERT.

Not in a can.

1861:  JEFFERSON DAVIS IS CHOSEN AS PRESIDENT OF THE CONFEDERATE STATES OF AMERICA.

Another Jefferson movin' on up.

1870:  THE YWCA IS FOUNDED IN NEW YORK CITY.

Separate locker room please.

1893:  COMIC JIMMY DURANTE IS BORN.

How about that nose coming down the birth canal?

1920:  JOZEF HALLER DE HALLENBURG PERFORMS SYMBOLIC WEDDING OF POLAND TO THE SEA.  

Huh?   Perhaps the very first Polish joke.

1922-29:  MY MOTHER IS BORN.

We never ever got an exact year.

1930:  ACTOR ROBERT WAGNER IS BORN.

Seriously, what really happened that night?

1933:  IN ROUND 13 OF A NEW YORK BOXING MATCH, PRIMO CARNERA KNOCKS OUT ERNIE SCHAAF, WHO DIES FOUR DAYS LATER.

The ultimate knock-out.

1937:  SINGER ROBERTA FLACK IS BORN.

The first time we ever saw her face.

1942:  THE FIRST GOLD RECORD IS PRESENTED TO GLENN MILLER FOR "CHATTANOOGA CHOO CHOO."

Track 29.

1943:  WORLD WAR II - THE SOVIET RED ARMY ENGAGES GERMAN TROOPS IN THE BATTLE OF KRASNY BOR.

Last time we were rooting for the Russkies.

1944:  SINGER PETER ALLEN IS BORN.

Married to Liza Minnelli.  Like mother, like daughter.

1950:  SWIMMER MARK SPITZ IS BORN.

Does chlorine tarnish gold?

1954:  US PRESIDENT DWIGHT EISENHOWER WARNS AGAINST US INTERVENTION IN VIETNAM.

He was smarter than he looked.

1957:  AUTHOR LAURA INGALLS WILDER DIES.

The Little Burial Plot on the Prairie.

1962:  CAPTURED AMERICAN U2 SPY-PLANE PILOT GARY POWER IS EXCHANGED FOR A SOVIET SPY.

And a fugitive to be named later.

1967:  THE 25TH AMENDMENT TO THE US CONSTITUTION IS RATIFIED.

The Constitution.  Remember that?

1981:  A FIRE AT THE LAS VEGAS HILTON HOTEL KILLS EIGHT.

Craps!

1989:  RON BROWN IS ELECTED CHAIRMAN OF THE DEMOCRATIC NATIONAL COMMITTEE, BECOMING THE THE FIRST AFRICAN-AMERICAN TO LEAD A MAJOR AMERICAN POLITICAL PARTY.

Ron Brown, ask me again and I'll knock you down.

1992:  AUTHOR ALEX HALEY DIES.

He wrote "Roots."  Now he is one.

1996:  THE IBM SUPERCOMPUTER DEEP BLUE DEFEATS GARRY KASPAROV IN CHESS FOR THE FIRST TIME.

Reboot.

2005:  AUTHOR ARTHUR MILLER DIES.

Once married to Marilyn Monroe.  No dope.

2008:  ACTOR ROY SCHEIDER DIES.

You're gonna need a bigger casket.

2014:  ACTRESS SHIRLEY TEMPLE DIES.

The Good Ship Lollipop's final voyage.

2019:  ACTOR JAN-MICHAEL VINCENT DIES.

I remember him as a kid actor in Disney movies.  Yeesh!

Dinner last night:  Leftover beef chili.