Tuning Into 77 WABC For The Top 100

Before IPOD playlists and MTV and classic rock, there was AM radio. For almost 20 years stations like KLIF in Dallas and WIBG in Philadelphia and WLS in Chicago dominated the listening habits of teenagers.

For millions of listeners in the greater New York City area, the two stations of choice for kids were WABC and WMCA. Like the scene from American Graffiti, radios in cars and on beaches might all be tuned to the same station as a single disc jockey like Wolfman Jack or Cousin Brucie rambled on.
I was right there with those millions of teenagers tuning every radio within reach to AM 77.

(Listen to WABC - 1967 Top 100)

My favorite day of the year for radio listening was December 26 because it signaled the end of non-stop Christmas music and the beginning of “the countdown.”

For a solid week, WABC would play the top radio hits of the year. The countdown would start at 100 and work its way down to number one and then start all over again. If you were a pop music fan, the countdown just sucked you in. If Incense and Peppermints is only the #18 super hit of the 1967, what could be better? There is no way that Judy in Disguise (With Glasses) came in at #17.
In the days before the Internet and instant information, there was no way to get the Top 100 list without first listening to hours of radio and the accompanying commercials. As a result, I found myself carrying a transistor radio and a crumpled piece of paper around the house. I numbered the page to 100 and scratched in the songs as they were announced.

The Top 100 was just an extension of the weekly Top 40 that was aired each Tuesday night. With the weekly excitement (at least in my house) of an American Idol final, the DJ would play songs from forty down to number one. It was big news in 1967 when Light My Fire jumped five places to push Windy out of first only to be bumped by Ode To Billy Joe two weeks later.

Top 40 radio was a format that began in 1954 at WTIX in New Orleans. The concept supposedly came from a radio station owner who kept hearing the same song played over and over on a jukebox. The owner trimmed the playlist of songs down to the ones determined most popular.
The bible for radio programmers was the Billboard Magazine Top 100 chart. The Billboard charts of pop songs started in 1955. Songs were rated based on actual sales nationwide and regional charts allowed regional bands to get more radio airplay.

Reaching #1 was every band’s dream but songs that stayed on the charts for an extended period were just as profitable. The Beatles, for example, had the most #1 hits (21) but Elvis Presley had the most charted records (107) compared to 48 for the Beatles. Interestingly, The Theme From a Summer Place by Percy Faith beat out the Beatles’ Hey Jude for the #1 song of the 60’s. The #1 charted song of 1970’s was surprisingly Debbie Boone’s You Light Up My Life.

If that last paragraph brought back fond memories instead of nightmares of an old statistics class, then look for a book called Top 40 Hits by Joel Whitburn.

There was a time when soul, rock and pop music all lived together on Am radio. How else could Sammy Davis Jr.’s The Candy Man, The Staple Singers’ I’ll Take You There and Neil Young’s Heart of Gold all hit #1 in 1972.

The rise of FM radio helped conquer and divide Top 40 AM radio in the 70’s but I still think back on those TOP 100 lists from the 60’s.

Share your comments and suggestions by emailing: flipside@tx.rr.com or visit the Flipside blog at http://flipsidecolumn.blogspot.com/

The Christmas Time Machine Is In Your Attic

The Christmas holiday is like a time machine. No matter how old we are, the holiday has a way of transporting us back in time. One reason is that we haul out a time capsule every year when the Christmas decorations appear.

It started with my family’s artificial Christmas tree. It magically grew thinner each year to the point where Charlie Brown would have been sympathetic. I was too young to remember it but we apparently enjoyed a silver tree lit with a rotating wheel of color in the late 50’s. The “new” tree lasted for at least 25 years and was finally retired long after we had left home.

Tree ornaments are a special part of Christmas decorating. Some survive generations while others get intentionally lost after only a single season. Our tree had an eclectic bunch or ornaments that were either passed down from grandparents or purchased when we were very young. My mother could tell a story about each one and I know my brother and I had favorites that we grabbed for first when tree trimming time came. Rarely were ornaments added to the collection in later years though.
The ornaments were carefully packed into several empty cases that once held 12 jars of Knott’s Berry Farm jelly. We knew Christmas was close when Aunt Maudie’s case of jelly arrived from California each year. Only a handful of ornaments and decorations from my childhood have survived but the familiar padded boxes are still in use 40 years later.

Still packed inside one of those cases is my mother’s favorite Christmas decoration - the Christmas Crèche or Nativity. All I know is that it was my grandmother’s and it got a prominent spot on the bookcase each year. I always imagined it as a valuable heirloom but it was probably purchased at Montgomery Wards in the 1950’s. I would offer to help set up the figurines each year hoping to create just the right effect. No matter how I positioned the wise men and the shepherds, my mother would patiently readjust them late at night to make the scene look more reverent and less like a sporting event.

Our living room was small and lacked a real fireplace so mom and dad were forced to rely on the magic of Santa and less on the “Night Before Christmas” scenario. Gifts appeared on Christmas morning under the tree but as we grew older Santa just dropped them on the two love seats nearby.
My memories from childhood may be foggy at times but I remember Christmas. I remember the pine scented candles and Santa cookie jar. I remember the popular Christmas songs that WABC radio played over and over and the four holly jolly Christmas albums my mother would pull out each year by Burl Ives, Rosemary Clooney, Frank Sinatra and Barbara Streisand. I remember the same holiday TV specials and the same holiday TV commercials (Santa riding a Norelco shaver for example) and of course every New Yorker remembers the WPIX Yule Log that burned each Christmas Eve.

It’s because we did the same things year after year (and probably because we got new toys) that my Christmas memories are so strong.

Once we were married and had our own children, we started new Christmas traditions but kept many of our own from childhood. I am sure our parents did the same and their parents and so on. I can’t imagine it any other way.

I hope my kids feel the same way in thirty years and I hope that those old Knott’s Berry Farm cases are still holding those familiar ornaments and Crèche figurines.
Have a wonderful Christmas!

Last Minute Christmas Advice

Dear Flip – I haven’t started my shopping yet and it’s Christmas Eve. You seem to have experience in last minute shopping. What would you suggest I buy for my family? Since time is short, I suggest you head to a large department store and only buy items that come pre-wrapped in a holiday box. For dad, try the 18-hole desktop executive golf course. Consider the perfume dispenser for mom and the Mp3 slippers for your sister. Good luck.

Dear Flip – We want to bring a gift for our friends tonight but hesitate because we don’t want to embarrass them if they didn’t get a gift for us. What should we do? Make the first move. Present the gifts to them at the door. This courteously gives the host time to wrap someone else’s gift or drive to CVS before they close.

Dear Flip – We have a tradition of opening one gift on Christmas Eve after church. Last year my little brother got to open a cool gift while I opened a sweater? Try this. Each family member can open one package or “steal” one that’s already been opened. This should lead to some quality family time.

Dear Mr. Side – I will get home from college at about 7 p.m. tonight. My old high school friends are having a really cool party tonight as well. How long do I need to stay at my parent’s house before I can leave for the party? There is a formula for calculating PQT (parent quality time). Take the number of weeks it has been since you were last home and multiply times five to get the proper number of minutes. For example, if you saw them at Thanksgiving, you need to make small talk for at least 20 minutes. Showers don’t qualify as parent quality time.

Dear Flip – My kids want Santa to bring them a laptop and a Wii and a bike. Santa is magical they say so he should be able to bring anything they ask for. Unfortunately my bank account is not magical. Any advice would be helpful. It’s about time you got some credit here. Tell them that mommy and daddy send money to Santa on April 15 every year. Based on how big that check is, Santa decides what he can bring. Show them the cancelled check from last year and explain that IRS stands for I (love) Rudolph & Santa.

Dear Flip – My brother and his wife are great people but they are lousy cooks. It’s our turn to go to their home for Christmas and we dread it. What would you do? Instead of the traditional hostess gift, bring a round roast with mashed potatoes and some mixed vegetables. Explain that you are both are on a strict diet.

Dr. Tim – I will cook for hours tomorrow while my family watches football all day. They will then devour the meal in 15 minutes and return to the TV room. Is there anything I can do? I would start with a 7 course meal that takes an hour to serve. Then I would set all of the DVR’s in the house to record the Little House On The Prairie holiday marathon.

Dear Flip – My sister is still angry that I melted her David Cassidy 45 rpm record in my EZ Bake Oven on Christmas almost forty years ago. Isn’t it time she let it go? You have one chance to put this conflict to rest. David Cassidy is appearing at the Nokia Theater on February 6 with Davey Jones of the Monkees. Go to the concert and buy a new 45 record for her at the souvenir stand.

Merry Christmas to our readers. You can find old Flipside columns at http://flipsidecolumn.blogspot.com. Send column suggestions and comments to flipside@tx.rr.com.

Hockey's Trio of Trouble Visits Allen

It seems unlikely that a movie about minor league hockey in the seventies would achieve cult status. It seems even more unlikely that the three goonish nerds who appeared in the movie are still celebrities today. But here they were at the Allen Event Center facing a long line of autograph seekers and well wishers.

The goons are The Hanson Brothers, a trio of trouble featured in the 1977 movie Slapshot that starred Paul Newman as player-coach of the Charlestown Chiefs. The Chiefs are a bad – make that really bad – minor league franchise from a depressed Pennsylvania steel town that finds a spark and wins a championship after three misfit brothers join the team. The quirks and fighting that the Hanson Brothers demonstrate in the movie have become legend in hockey arenas and locker rooms ever since.

The movie’s Hanson Brothers are actually two brothers named Steve and Jeff Carlson along with David Hanson. A third Carlson brother would have appeared in the movie but was called up to the Edmonton Oilers NHL team from the Johnstown (Pa) Jets, where all four of them were playing. Combined, the Hansons played a total of 34 years in professional hockey and brought those experiences to the movie.

The Charlestown Chiefs are a fictional team but their story is based on fact. The screenplay was written by Nancy Dowd, sister of Johnstown Jet player Ned Dowd, and incorporated many true stories and characters from the gritty minor league hockey circuit in New York State and Pennsylvania.

A fan favorite is a fight that breaks out between the brothers and their opponents before the game starts. It’s based on an actual 1970’s Jets playoff game where Steve, Jeff and Dave tangled with the Buffalo Norsemen during warm-ups over a racial slur. During the fight, a Buffalo player tried to escape into the stands only to be pushed back onto the ice by Jets fans.

According to a 2007 Sports Illustrated interview, Jeff Carlson once pounded a particularly annoying opponent on the head with the announcer’s microphone. “All the crowd could hear was poom, poom poom!,” he said.

Today the Hanson Brothers make about 25 celebrity appearances. Many of the appearances are fundraising events where the brothers have raised over $14 million for various charities over the past 30 years, according to Steve.

They received a warm reception as they dropped the puck at the November 19 Allen Americans game and graciously entertained several hundred fans who waited for autographs and photos.
“We have been fortunate that the movie has such longevity,” said Jeff. “Its popularity just keeps going and going and going.”

“We were hockey players and not actors when this all started,” added Steve. “Once it took off we needed to make a decision about a career in hockey or sign a movie contract. The two didn’t fit together so we went with the movie.”

The original Slap Shot movie is rated among the top sports comedies and led to two sequels over the years.

I think that Dave may have hit it on the head when he tried to explain the appeal of the movie. “The humor is pretty crude, the dialogue is often politically incorrect and it’s a violent movie.”

Fans of the movie Slap Shot will have no trouble finding more information on The Hanson Brothers in Wikipedia and favorite scenes are all out there on YouTube. Just don’t try the stunts at home!

Keeping A Straight Face At The Poker Palace

Very few games or toys from our childhood still capture our attention like a simple deck of cards.

Risk is way too much trouble and Sorry is sorry. When our kids were small we enjoyed family time and reliving our own childhood through games like Life and Parcheesi but I don’t miss them. I think I was happiest though when both of my kids learned to play cards.

My card playing experience goes back to first grade when my mother taught me to play Canasta – her favorite game. A few years later my father taught me his favorite game - Cribbage. By the time I reached high school I had found my favorite game – poker.

Weekend poker nights were a regular high school event in the 70’s for two reasons – we didn’t have video games and we didn’t have girlfriends. The next best thing was playing poker for hours while consuming large quantities of junk food.

Six or more guys would head upstairs to our attic (it’s a northern thing) carrying bags of chips and quarts of soda. Hours later, after redistributing our wealth, we would trudge three floors down trying not to wake my father who was often asleep in front of the television.

Poker was a very democratic activity in The Poker Palace, an elegant name given to my attic. Dealer’s choice was the rule which meant that the person dealing got to pick the game and the rules.

Traditionalists would call a game of 5-card stud with nothing wild. Others might go for an extended version of 7-card stud with deuces, jokers and one eyed jacks wild.

Pride was more important than losing a little money. Therefore people learned to play the various card games for a price and never asked questions. Of course some games were more expensive than others.

Nickel ante poker games such as Baseball and 7-card no peek forced players to keep paying to play long before they knew what cards they were holding.

Some games only involved three cards. One called 3-card Monte forced players to bet on a small hand with one wild card. The most dangerous game of the evening was called guts. Players held the cards above the table and when the dealer counted 1-2-3 guts, players either dropped the cards or held them. Everyone still holding cards had to match all of the money in the pool except for the winner. By far it was the most expensive and gutsy game of the night.

There was great satisfaction in winning at the Poker Palace but the financial rewards were slim. A lucky night might earn the winner 400 nickels but that’s only $20.

The stakes were much higher when I visited a real poker palace in Las Vegas many years later. I played two hands and walked away $20 lighter. I would rather lose 400 nickels in 3 hours than lose them in 3 minutes.

If I’ve tickled that urge in you to play poker, then head out tonight (Nov. 11) for the Allen Arts Alliance Casino Night. The Casino Night is part of the weekend activities surrounding the Tom Thumb Texas Stampede at the Allen Event Center.

For more information about the western style Casino Night or to order tickets call 972-727-7272 or visit www.texasstampede.org/events.

Rodeo Ready To Stampede Into Allen

It certainly was a pleasant surprise last week when I passed through Allen Station Park and came upon a herd of Texas longhorn.

Only two weeks ago I was exploring the possibility of switching careers and becoming a cattle rancher. Now here I was face to face with a 1,500 lb. steer. I just had to know more.

The herd of thirty longhorns had been transported to Allen from northwest Oklahoma that afternoon. They were in town to promote the Tom Thumb Texas Stampede which comes to the Allen Event Center on November 11-13.

After a good night’s rest, the longhorns would be driven north through the park into the Village of Allen ending at the Allen Event Center. Considering the alternative, it would be fair to say that the longhorns had a pretty good deal going on.

The longhorns came from the Chain Ranch in Woodward, OK and according to Livestock Weekly Magazine, many of them were spared from a trip to the slaughterhouse.

The ranch owner Wes Sanders picked up 44 steers at an auction and thought he could use them to promote a local rodeo. He outbid a local packing house for every one of them and brought them back to his ranch. Several days later he drove the herd 10 miles into Woodward and got statewide news coverage. That was in 1997. Today the Chain Ranch loans longhorn herds of all sizes (and their cowboys) to movie companies and communities for promotional cattle drives across the southwest.

“Our purpose in holding the cattle drive was to celebrate the Texas Stampede’s move to Allen,” explains Scott Farace, the Stampede’s vice president for business development. “It’s also about bringing a bit of Texas history back to the area. These are real longhorns and real cowboys and I think people enjoy that experience.”

Logistics are certainly an important part of driving a cattle herd through a city, according to Randy Lewallyn, director of operations.

“It looks harder than it is because longhorns are basically docile creatures. They are used to the noise and sounds of parade routes and the steers usually just need a nudge from the cowboys or the sound of whip to stay in line.”

The cattle drive, of course, is only the appetizer for the upcoming Texas Stampede. The main event will include bareback, saddle bronc riding, calf roping, barrel racing and bull riding.
Eric Swenson, a professional bareback bronc rider who recently placed 20th in world competition, compares the rodeo circuit to NASCAR.

“The professionals travel across the country during the rodeo season gaining points as they go. The season ends with the National Finals Rodeo (NFR) in Las Vegas each December.”
Attending a rodeo is so different than watching one on television, added Swenson. “It’s the sounds and the excitement of the crowd that can’t be experienced any other way.”

Allen has certainly opened its doors to the Texas Stampede, says John Wroten, executive director of the Stampede.

“We’ve been overwhelmed with the support from the city and the volunteers which means it will be a great event here in Allen.”

“The move to a smaller venue will actually help the Stampede,” added Wroten. Our costs compared to the American Airlines Center are much less and we have more flexibility to expand the event. For example, the western heritage festival on November 11-13 is a new addition to the Stampede.”
The free western heritage event will include a petting zoo, pony rides, goat roping and a western marketplace.

In addition to the festival and rodeo, the Stampede will host country stars Dierks Bentley on November 12 and Montgomery Gentry on November 13.
Profits from the Texas Stampede benefit charities in North Texas, particularly Children’s Medical Center.

For more information about the weekend events visit www.texasstampede.org or call the Allen Event Center.

In the meantime, dust off those boots and get ready to party western style till the cows (make that longhorns) come home.

Beware The Crab Apples on Halloween

Halloween isn’t what it used to be. If it weren’t for the candy aisle at the grocery store and the costume stores that pop up overnight, I am not sure I’d notice the holiday at all.

It’s a holiday for little kids and once they grow up, it’s just hard as a parent to get enthusiastic about it. That probably explains why the house lights in my neighborhood are mostly dark on Halloween each year.

I knew it was fading from importance as we put out less and less decorations each year. We started many years ago with a house full of orange and black knick knacks and spooky silhouettes in the window. Now I dust off the fake front porch pumpkin and I’m done!

Halloween is this country’s second most popular holiday but has become a complicated one for parents. In “the old days” we ran home from school, grabbed a costume and something quick to eat before heading out for the night – literally.

As soon as the sun dipped, we were off knocking on doors and might cover a few miles before the 10 p.m. curfew. The only time we checked in was to drop off full bags of candy.

Today’s Halloween is no longer carefree. Parents just can’t let their kids roam outside of the neighborhood and they are suspicious of any candy that comes from strangers.

Maybe it’s time for a moratorium on Halloween but that sounds like an adult talking. Kids would not share that opinion.

Halloween has always been a weird but wonderful holiday for them. They get to beg from strangers, eat gross amounts of candy and stay out late. Halloween also differs from other holidays because it often falls on a school day. Is there a longer school day for kids or teachers than October 31st?
Our only advantage in Catholic school was that November 1st was All Saints Day – a school holiday that conveniently followed Halloween. Of course the two days are linked in history.

The holiday’s origins actually go back 2,000 years to Celtic harvest festivals and superstitions. They celebrated Samhain (sow-in) on the night of October 31 when ghosts of the dead were believed to return to earth causing trouble. Romans added their own twist to the holiday and Christians established a holy day called All Saints Day or All-Hallows Day on November 1. All-Hallows Eve gradually became Halloween according to legend.

We never dwelled on the historical significance of Halloween. We were too busy choosing a costume that would show our own individuality without exposing us to ridicule by older neighborhood kids.

The big kids were the scary part of Halloween in the city. They wore little or no costume, roamed in packs and hustled smaller kids for candy. Occasionally they would leap from behind trees and throw rotten crab apples or eggs at the weak ones.

As a ten year-old, being bullied by fourteen year-olds was bad but being seen with your parents on Halloween was worse.

Halloween was a giant but spooky step into the adult world where the rewards were sweet and the dangers could be – a little messy.

Mourning The Component Stereo System

There was a time when a wall of stereo equipment was enough to impress most people. Names like Altec Lansing and Kenwood inspired envy among friends and one’s status could be measured by the weight of their speakers.

Times have changed of course. My wall of sound now consists of two small Bose desktop speakers and a woofer at my feet. Two heavy stereo speakers serve as sturdy end tables in my office and the component stereo system sleeps inside my television cabinet hoping cassettes will make a surprising comeback.

I have come to the sad realization that my stereo system is no longer valuable or impressive. In fact, it has almost no value at all. I cruised Craigslist and found several folks who were trying to unload their stereos for prices they probably would never see. My favorite listing stated “stackable JVC receiver with am/fm radio, Pioneer 6-cd changer, JVC dual cassette player and equalizer plus two large speakers – paid over $2000 eight years ago but will take a loss.”

My IPOD holds more music, sounds better with headphones and fits in my pocket for $300. I think he will be taking a big loss.

I came face to face with stereo reality last week at Best Buy. I wanted to replace a broken CD player for one of our elementary schools. First the salesman tried to sell me a home theater receiver. Then he pitched the new Blue-Ray players.

“I just want an inexpensive CD player to hook up to a stereo,” I explained. He looked at me blankly and I realized that the store no longer carries stereo components. Even the CD music had been moved to the back of the store and replaced by video games.

Strange as it may seem, they did have a turntable at the store but it was made to convert scratchy records into digital files.

The big speakers were meant to impress but it was the turntable that showed folks how serious a person was about music listening. A stacking turntable was considered low class. The showoff turntables were fully manual and heavy so they wouldn’t vibrate when your neighbor cranked up his mega-stereo. Cool turntables also had lights and gadgets that allowed the owner to carefully adjust the speed but very few people ever did.

My favorite stereo component was a graphic equalizer. It had lots of lights and announced to everyone that I was a very serious audiophile. A better description was probably audiodork but aren’t we always the last to see that?

If there is one thing I miss about my stereo system, it’s the pleasure of opening a new album and just listening to it while I read the liner notes. There would be listening parties in our college dorm rooms when someone bought a new album release. Now kids download the album and share it within 5 minutes.

Like an old set of golf clubs or that Yashica SLR in the closet, home stereos are too good to throw out but worthless to anyone else. That explains why garages have amazing sound systems. The stereo was headed for the trash but didn’t quite make it that far. Instead it provides a soundtrack for weekend projects in the workshop.

My favorite Craigslist posting summed it up very well – “amazing Kenwood stereo system, wife says it must be sold, will trade for tools.”

Searching For A Home On The Range

Shortly before we moved from Indiana to Texas, I bought a pair of cowboy boots. It just seemed like a good way to celebrate a new job and a big move to the Lone Star State.

Life in the suburbs hasn’t offered many opportunities to get my boots broken in. We took some dance lessons and I dusted them up at the animal barn a few times but I couldn’t convince a Texan that I had actually worked in those boots. Don’t get me started with the cowboy hat in my closet.
That’s why I have decided to start a cattle ranch. It’s time I did something Texan and what’s more Texan than being a cattle rancher?

I began with a website called ehow.com and an article appropriately titled “How To Start A Cattle Ranch.” Looking more like a recipe index, the page listed ten items I would need to start my ranch: lasso, chaps, ten gallon hat, cowboy boots, cattle, land, fencing, fence posts, a cattle brand and a horse.

I already had the boots and hat so it was time to search for land. Collin County acreage is out of my price range so I have chosen the 100 acre Bar S Ranch in Thalia, Texas just south of Vernon. I am confident that I can pay off the $180,000 after my first cattle drive.

Step two instructed me to purchase a herd of cattle at the auction. I needed just a bit more information so I paid a visit to Kenneth Bolin, the only person I know who owns cattle. His 42 acre farm borders Luther and Anna Mae Bolin Elementary School (named after his parents) and his cattle can often be seen grazing near the school property.

Mr. Bolin recommended I start with 30 cows and one bull. My idea to add a few more bulls to the herd would bring me nothing but trouble, he said. Speaking of trouble, he also suggested I stay away from horns as in longhorns. Black Angus is a good breed and won’t eat you off the land like some others, he offered. Herefords and Brahmas are also good breeds for this area.

Search for the cost of cattle online and you will need an A&M extension course to understand it. There are too many variables to explain so let’s say 30 heifers will cost me $500 each. From what I’ve read, don’t look for bargains when buying your bull. I found one for $1000 and the ad says he’s quite popular with the ladies.

Keeping them healthy and keeping them fed is the key to running a good cattle operation, according to Bolin. Unfortunately good weather and some good luck are also needed if you plan to make any money at ranching.

“You shouldn’t let the grass in any one pasture get below 4” so that it has enough size to capture moisture and grow back,” explained Bolin. “If we get a drought and the grass turns brown, you will need to supplement with hay.”

Hay is a big expense on a ranch. A load of hay to feed 30 head of cattle might cost $6000. There are cheaper options but cheap hay doesn’t lead to healthy animals. Hay prices also go up when availability is low.

It wasn’t the cost of hay that eventually scared me out of my cattle ranching dream – it was the medical discussion. Aside from being experts on the calf birthing process, cattle ranchers need to spot behavior that might signal serious problems like bloat. There are over 100 different cattle diseases listed at cattlesite.com and some don’t sound real pretty.

I guess I’ll have to wait a little longer to break in those boots although there was a sheep ranch for sale in Quanah that looked like a real bargain.

A Horse Is a Horse Of Course Of Course

The boom in DVD reissues of old television series has brought renewed attention to many classic shows. I can hardly walk by the long row of DVD sets at Sams Club without being tempted by Season 4 of Bewitched or The Complete F-Troop box set.

The price is usually enough to scare me away but I did recently rent the first season of Leave It To Beaver online. Thirty-nine shows in glorious black and white arrived at my door and I popped disc one onto the TV screen. The whimsical theme music came on and there was Hugh Beaumont, Barbara Billingsley, Tony Dow and of course Jerry Mathers – “the Beav.”

I don’t know whether I was more intimidated by the remaining 35 episodes or disappointed by my family’s lack of enthusiasm for nostalgia. Regardless, I stopped watching after the 4th show and dropped Beaver and Lumpy and Eddie back in the mailbox.

Nostalgia is funny like that. You taste it and you want it, but after a good dose of it, you’ve had your fill. In Beaver’s case, I had heard that great opening on a TV theme song collection and it reminded me how much I enjoyed the show as a kid. I could have stopped there.

TV theme songs are a unique piece of our classic television history. Even casual viewers of old time television could sing the opening to Mr. Ed and only four musical notes are needed to make you snap your fingers to The Addams Family theme.

I hated the show but I knew how they became The Brady Bunch. I still remember the story of the “poor mountaineer who barely kept his family fed,” and I know why Oliver Wendell Douglas chose Hooterville over New York City. It was because the shows had great theme songs.

Run down the list of most popular classic TV shows and I would guess you could sing almost every one of the theme songs. Go ahead and try to sing the openers to The Patty Duke Show or Petticoat Junction or Superman. How about singing the themes to some classic cartoons like The Flinstones or The Jetsons or Yogi Bear? I once translated and recited the theme to George of the Jungle in Latin for a high school project but only my teacher and Rocco Malanga, the really smart kid, got the joke.

The best classic theme songs, in my opinion, have no words. Who needs words to Bonanza or My Three Sons or Andy Griffith? I rarely stayed up to watch them as a child but the Alfred Hitchcock, Perry Mason and Tonight Show themes were as much a part of my bedtime routine as bubble baths.

There is another category of theme songs that includes great songs and mediocre (maybe lousy) shows. My Mother The Car and Flipper could head that category but you may have your own nominees.

Choosing one classic TV theme song that ranks above all the others is challenging but not impossible. My vote for the most recognizable song would be the theme to Gilligan’s Island. My choice for a tune that best fits the TV series would be Bonanza. The most annoying theme would be Woody Woodpecker and the most forgotten theme would be Car 54 Where Are You? The most fun award goes to The Addams Family and the corniest award goes to Batman.

My top award goes to a song called “You’re My Greatest Love,” composed by bandleader Jackie Gleason. It is better known to us as the theme from The Honeymooners.

As the summer drags on and reruns rule the network channels, flip over to TVLand and enjoy some of these classic TV gems. Just don’t let your kids catch you singing the theme to Superchicken.

Dad's College Advice

Pregnancy ranks first but I would guess that heading off to college is number two for unsolicited advice. There are books, magazines, websites, blogs and videos all devoted to helping college freshman adjust.

As I mentioned last week, my son shipped off to college on August 21. He got his share of advice as the day drew near but I still worried that I had not completely prepared him for college life.
Did I remind him about not leaving 8-tracks on the dashboard? Would he remember to use the bottle of Hai Karate each morning? You can imagine my stress.

My solution was to offer college advice that worked for me and certainly would help him at Texas Tech this fall. As a public service to other college freshman and their parents, I am reprinting the list below. I hope it helps.

1. You will be sharing a phone with at least three others so be sure to write down all of your calls.
2. Always reverse the charges when calling your parents.
3. Call your girlfriend after 11 p.m. on Sunday nights for the best rate.
4. Avoid embarrassment by turning all of your Carpenters and Abba records backwards so your friends don’t spot them.
5. Leave James Taylor and Cat Stevens records around your dorm room when girls visit. They like sensitive stuff like that.
6. Playing Dark Side of the Moon at 45 rpm will pick up any dorm party.
7. Milk crates make excellent record racks and coffee tables.
8. Make sure your bell bottoms are properly frayed before leaving for college. Cigarette ashes rubbed into the legs also give them a weathered look.
9. Bring extra batteries for your transistor radio.
10. Aluminum foil balls on the rabbit ears will expand your television reception.
11. Never buy a used Chevy Vega – even if it looks like a really good deal.
12. The aluminum block of a Chevy Vega engine can be used to expand your television reception once it cracks.
13. It is better to weigh down your turntable arm with dimes instead of quarters to get a clearer sound.
14. Never stack more than three albums or they will start to slide.
15. Electrical tape is expensive. Masking tape makes a good substitute on stereo cables.
16. Use the Herbal Essence Shampoo I gave you – girls dig it.
17. Leave the galoshes home. Bring Totes instead.
18. Pumas…not Adidas
19. Keep your pea coat dry – it smells when it gets wet
20. When attending campus demonstrations, carry a dime to make a phone call if you get arrested.
21. You might rethink the Nixon/Agnew sticker on your bumper.
22. Platform shoes are for high school proms, not college. Leave them home. Earth shoes are a much more practical solution.
23. A summer job paying $1.75 an hour should be enough to pay for two semesters of college.
24. Make sure you gas up on your odd or even day before driving back to college. Arrive early at the gas station to avoid long lines.
25. Beer cans make lousy decorations no matter what your friends say.
26. Never refer to a policeman as a pig at a traffic stop. They prefer the term fuzz.
27. Remember – there is more to life than Pong. Don’t let the video game disrupt your studies.

We Miss You Burnt Umber

I rolled through Target last week and got caught in the school supply traffic jam. I was actually searching for a garden item but of course summer ended in a retail sense two months ago.
Two cute girls were pleading for the Hannah Montana backpacks while mom checked off the familiar school supply list items. There was excitement, stress and near panic as parents and kids negotiated the needs and wants of back to school shopping.

I don’t recall school supply shopping being such an event when I was a little rascal but I sure remember new school supplies.

The big ticket item for me was always the book bag. The name has long been replaced by backpack but there was a time when students looked as though they were heading to a bowling alley instead of a mountain hike. Little kids carried handled vinyl bags with Fred Flintstone or Barbie while high school bag were two-tone with the school logo and colors on the side.

Maybe what made school supplies so exciting was how good they looked compared to last year’s supplies. Erasers and glue were not attractive by the end of school. We had used or eaten most of the non-toxic paste and the Elmer’s Glue was permanently sealed at the nozzle. Stick erasers were either broken in half or covered with a slick coating of dirt and grease from the bottom of the book bag.

The yellow #2 Ticonderga pencil and clear Bic pens were standard issue on the 1960’s supply list. Marble composition notebooks, stacks of 3-ring binder paper and theme tablets also topped the list.

One special pen that we all received in grammar school supposedly taught us “The Palmer Method” of handwriting. The long slender pen was also perfect for gnawing on as we practiced rounding out our cursive letters. I am sure that my handwriting would be more graceful if I hadn’t chewed my pens down to the refill each year.

The king of all school supplies was the new box of Crayola Crayons. Whether it was a set of eight or 64 (sharpener included), the yellow and green box of perfectly formed crayons meant school was about to start. By the school year’s end, they were banished to the teacher’s crayon bucket of lost (crayon) souls.

Many school supply items have changed through the years but a crayon is still a crayon. No matter what color they are, crayons have a distinctive feel and smell that can instantly transport adults back to their childhood.

According to Crayola’s official history, Edwin Binney and Harold Smith invented crayons in 1903. The line was expanded from 8 to 48 colors in the 1940’s and again to 64 colors in 1958. Along the way colors such as Prussian Blue, Indian Red and Flesh were dropped. Others like Orange-Red, Blue-Grey and Burnt Umber were “retired” and added to the Crayola Hall of Fame – seriously.
There is a sense of optimism and hope when you crack open those school supplies in August. You might sharpen your favorite pencil and imagine the blank notebook page as a metaphor for the new school year. Then again maybe it’s just writer’s block.

Either way, have a great school year kids and remember - don’t chew your pens.

First Class Gold Class Cinema

My old boss Dean Speicher once said that everyone can afford to go first class…it’s just that not everyone can stay as long.

He was referring to the limo he had hired for the evening but he could have been talking about the new Gold Class Cinema in Fairview.

Whether you call it first-class or just over the top, no one is arguing that the Gold Class Cinema is very different than other movie theaters.

Located in The Village at Fairview on Stacy Road, Gold Class Cinema offers eight small theaters that seat either 40, 32 or 24 seats each. The seats, which are arranged in small groupings, are comfortable recliners that raise or lower with the touch of a button. A tray rests between the seats with a dimly lit call button that summons a waiter.

This is where Gold Class kicks into high gear. An on-site chef will prepare a wide array of meals or snacks for you and your date while you choose from 80 different wines and a full range of cocktails.
Gold Class spared no expense providing a comfortable lounge experience outside the theater. All seats are reserved in advance so movie goers are invited to relax in the lounge as they wait for their movie.

“We’re all about the escapism of watching movies,” says Mark Mulcahy, vice president of marketing. “We want to provide the ultimate movie-going experience for movie lovers.”

That experience, according to Mulcahy, includes removing the stress of going to the movies. “I’ve rushed a dinner and skipped dessert more than once trying to get a good seat in the theater. Reserved seating takes that anxiety out of the equation.”

There is a price for luxury. Movies run $25 per person on weekends after 12 pm and $25 all the time for non-members although members only pay $20 on weekdays and weekend mornings. Membership is free and painless so there is no reason to pay the higher rate.

At this point you are probably asking why anyone would pay so much for the same movie that costs $9 down the road. Think about two local golf courses. The same game of golf can be played on a crowded municipal course for $35 or a spacious premium course for $65. One cost less but at the end of the day the other experience is much more relaxing.

The concept came to the U.S. from Australia and Europe, added Mulcahy. There, a cinema might have 10 regular theaters and two VIP or “Gold Class” theaters. When the first Gold Class opened in Los Angeles, a decision was made to build stand alone premium theaters.”
Today, the chain operates six theaters in the U.S. including Los Angeles and suburban Seattle, Chicago, Austin and Dallas (Fairview).

If you are still scratching your head about how Gold Class can be successful, consider the numbers. Since opening on May 7, the Fairview location alone has attracted 20,000 members and is adding about 4,000 more per month.

Gold Class is feeding that buzz with special promotions that tie into the movies. Viewers attending the new movie “Eat, Pray, Love” for example, can experience a taste of all three countries and cuisines featured in the movie. The theaters are also available for private events and parties (think Super Bowl).

Still not convinced?

“It’s something you have to experience before you can appreciate it,” adds Mulcahy. “People need to escape at times and we certainly offer that opportunity.”

What Gold Class does - for a price – is enhance the entire movie going experience. The sound is better, the chairs are bigger and the service is classier. Did I mention that they offer blankets and pillows?

Postcards From Scout Camp

Dear Mom- Having some fun but plenty of rain. The dock is under 2” of water. Made beginner swimmer because I couldn’t do side stroke. We are going on a campout Wednesday under the stars. I am going for athletics, first aid, leatherwork, camping, hiking and pioneering. See you soon. – Tim

That pretty much summed up my week at Camp Tamarack in July 1968. It wasn’t exactly “Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah” but I am sure that the postcard from scout camp was appreciated.

As I recall, we were required to each write a postcard home on the second day of camp so that our anxious parents would get some communication before we arrived home on Sunday. Barring any medical emergencies or bear sightings, there wasn’t much to report on day number two.

For those readers unfamiliar with Boy Scout camp, the week followed a very predictable schedule. Parents and kids would haul their “stuff” down the road from the parking lot and into the campground. Open air campaign tents were neatly lined up on wooden platforms with the sides and doors rolled tightly. Before unpacking, our troop of scouts quickly changed into bathing suits and headed to the waterfront for the dreaded swimming test. Actually, only lousy swimmers like myself dreaded the swimming test. The beginner tag I earned disqualified me from most waterfront activities except rowboats which were lame by any standard.

The only thing I dreaded more than the swim test was the lake itself. The mountain lake was about 65 degrees and a murky brown color. The lake bottom was a combination of muck and weeds which worked well for the small fish but not for small fry Boy Scouts. The greatest motivation I had for passing the swim test was not letting my feet touch the lake bottom.

Because many parents lingered past dinner, our Sunday meal was usually something special like turkey. This also set the stage for turkey soup, turkey sandwiches and turkey casserole later in the week.

Campfires have always been a big part of the scout experience and camp always started and ended with a big one. The teenage counselors would build a fire that could be spotted from outer space while the campers doused themselves with insect repellent. The aroma of Off repellent and kerosene filled the air as we sang silly songs about the Titanic and meatballs.

Back at the campsite, adult leaders forced, yes forced, the scouts into the bathhouse where they were required to wash up and brush their teeth. It was probably part of some promise they made to our parents. We then carefully tied down the tent flaps which made no difference to the mosquitoes but did create a line of defense against skunks and raccoons.

Waking up at sunrise was never much of a problem early in the week. Mysterious noises from the woods and tall tales from the older scouts ensured that we would not sleep at all until later in the week when we were too tired to care.

Following a hearty breakfast of oatmeal and cold cereal we set off to attend merit badge classes. That explains the postcard’s reference to “going for athletics, first aid, etc.”

The first day’s merit badge classes were broken up with lunch and swimming lessons. Just before dinner that second night, I wrote the above mentioned postcard.

Despite the brown water, mosquitoes and sleep deprivation, I was having a great time at Camp Tamarack. It was just hard to convey that in a postcard. If only I could have texted home to say: OMG – passed swimming but cold water – LOL – CUL8R.

Wonders of the SkyMall

Ladies and gentlemen - please return your seats to their upright position, raise your trays and stow all portable devices as we begin our descent.

Those last 15 minutes or more of a flight can be long ones if you don’t have a good book. Then again, there is always SkyMall – the catalog of catalogs.

I have never actually purchased an item from SkyMall but I have spent countless hours on airplanes turning the worn pages as we began our descent.

I know that most of you have done the same thing. Maybe you finished a book or forgot a magazine or just couldn’t sleep. Whatever the reason, you found yourself lusting for electronic objects you didn’t even know existed 30 minutes earlier.

Just open SkyMall and suddenly you feel the need to buy a self feeder for your cat and stairs for your aging dog.

SkyMall, Inc. was founded in 1990 and originally offered goods from other companies' catalogs for same-day delivery to customers arriving at select U.S. airports. To accomplish the same-day delivery promise, SkyMall operated its own warehouses located on the grounds of selected airports. The company later began offering catalog merchandise to travelers flying most of the nation's air carriers and dropped the same day services in favor of a more traditional catalog approach.

The airline pocket catalog has a circulation of 20 million and is seen by approximately 88% of all domestic air passengers, according to the SkyMall website. That figures to about 650 million travelers annually which means you can sell a lot of CD towers and garden gnomes to that crowd.

Thumbing through a recent issue of SkyMall on my way to Jersey, I was once again tempted to purchase electronic objects like the hovering blimp and voice-activated R2D2 robot. I was also intrigued by the promise of medical devices that would cure my sore back, balding scalp and tired feet.

If there is one theme in this catalog; it would be objects that your spouse will find totally useless.
For example, you can now purchase a dog house shaped like the helmet of your favorite football team (Helmutt House), a remote controlled Tarantula or a pair of seats from Texas Stadium ($649). Maybe you could get your spouse to go for the $3,700 full size arcade game that houses 125 classic Atari and Capcom games!

I found the scariest items in the catalog section called Gadget Universe. For only $199 you can become your own acupuncturist. “Diagnose and heal yourself,” says the ad. Now that’s a scary thought.

The Head Spa Massager ad claims that “the patented Italian design incorporates Japanese engineering…like thousands of tiny fingers simultaneously massaging your scalp.” It doesn’t say whether the tiny fingers are those of Italians or Japanese.

Kids will absolutely go nuts for the marshmallow bazooka that “launches edible missiles up to 40 feet” and the Children’s Electric 1948 Indian Motorcycle that can probably launch a child up to 40 feet.

I think pet owners and people with big CD collections are SkyMall’s easiest targets. There are no less than 4 pages of massive CD storage devices (an IPOD would be cheaper). Attracting pet lovers are the Canine Geneolgy Kit that analyzes your dog’s DNA, the Indoor Dog Restroom with antimicrobial artificial turf and the new Pet Doorbell set.

It’s probably not fair to poke too much fun at SkyMall. It distracts millions of travelers who are afraid of flying. It also lets us dream of gadgets that would be fun to own even if they are impractical.
Did I mention that the Telekinetic Obstacle Course is on sale for $99.95?

Your First Was Probably Your Worst (Car)

Snap, crackle, pop is a good sound to hear from your bowl of cereal but it’s not so good when your car says it.

I was turning our 1969 Dodge Dart through the intersection when I heard the snap. I continued forward as this crackling or tearing sound came from under the hood. That was quickly followed by a loud pop. The front wheel had snapped off. Technically the rocker arm had rusted and detached from the frame but the end result was the same.

The fire engine red Dart had come to our family through marriage. I brought a beat up 1957 Chevy to the altar and my wife Ann contributed the Dart. Both were our first cars and had nostalgic value despite their mechanical flaws – and there were many mechanical flaws. Neither one, however, would be considered the worst car we ever owned.

That honor belongs to the 1972 Volkswagen 411 that is parked behind the crippled Dart in the photo. The car had several cool features but the gasoline heater was not one of them. Located under the back seat, the heater would burn gasoline and then convert it to heat. Unfortunately it caught fire on a regular basis which required the panicked driver to pull over, flip the rear seat and put out the fire. It gave new meaning to the term hot seat.

The Foundation for Allen Schools recently held a classic car show at the Village of Allen. The event mostly involves people standing around and staring at each other’s cars and talking about car stuff. I took advantage of the captive audience and asked folks to describe the worst car they ever owned. I then posted the same question on Facebook to some friends. Their nominations sound like a who’s who of bad engineering and taste.

“My worst was a 1975 Pinto Wagon. It was mostly Bondo and had 156,000+ miles on it. It ran for 10 minutes after you turned the key off.” – Rich Hardt, Riverton, WY.

“The worst car was my first car. It was a 1952 Dodge Wayfarer that I bought in 1975 for $75. I knew nothing about this at the time, but in 1952 Dodge had what it called a "gyromatic transmission." It had a clutch, but you didn't have to use it. Whenever I would stop, then step on the gas, it would lunge forward in a jerky motion. It was shaped like a football so at least it looked cool.” – Mark Sceurman – Bloomfield,

“My worst car was also my first. It was a 1960 VW bug. It had no A/C, no heat, no radio, no gas gauge, and only 3 of the 4 cylinders worked reliably. It cost me $200 and I was thrilled to have it.” – Barry Lanier, Allen, TX.

“I had a 63 Dodge Dart that ran on quarts (of oil) per mile. It was my first car and I was happy just to have one.” – Dave Barnes, Allen, TX.

“My 1978 Toyota Corolla had an 1,100 cc engine. It was so weak that I had to turn off the AC to climb hills – in Texas!” – Robert Weaver, Allen, TX.

“My worst was my first, and I loved it - a used Renault R8 ($450 in 1975) with a rear engine and front trunk that opened from the windshield end. The manual gearbox was set up for a driver seated on the right hand side of the car, the carburetor frequently got stuck and had to be adjusted by hand and I can't think of how many times I started the car by pushing and popping the clutch.” - Patrice Keegan, Boston, MA.

“The worst for me was an 83 Chevy Citation. It was impossible to drive, had almost no clutch and no power.” – Rod Griffin, Allen, TX.

“I thought my 1981 Renault Fuego looked cool but it was a bad car – a really bad car.” – Keith Taylor, Allen, TX.

Mark Wynn of Princeton said it best when he admitted that “The best thing that ever happened to me was that someone stole my 1973 Chevy Vega. The worst thing that ever happened was that the police found my 73 Vega.”

Squeezing Forty Years Into One Paragraph

It all started on Facebook with a message from someone I hadn’t spoken with in 40 years.

Pat Sharpe-Dunn, a grammar school classmate, sent an electronic “hello” from New Jersey which is more like a “hey” than a “howdy.”

We spent close to an hour that night recalling whatever knowledge we had of classmates from the St. Thomas the Apostle eighth grade Class of 1970.

The class was unique because we were together for six straight years. Even though there were three full classes of kids, the nuns kept us separated for the most part. The result was three groups of about 35 kids traveling through grades 3-8 on parallel tracks.

I was close friends with a handful of kids and had information about another half dozen. Pat had been in touch with an equal number and we swapped information like cold war spies. We discussed important topics like who married whom and where folks lived. The subject then turned to juicier topics such as who liked whom in sixth grade and which nuns were the meanest.

The online conversation motivated us to scan Facebook for other 1970 classmates which then spread out like a big family tree to even more classmates. People I had not thought about in a very long time were now posting messages and sharing photos on my “wall.”

I found that summarizing 40 years of your life into one paragraph for an old acquaintance is like writing your own obituary.

“So what have you been up to?” someone asked me.

“Well,” I responded, “I went to college, got married, moved to Indiana, had kids that are now 17 and 18, moved near Dallas, Texas (it sounds so much better than the suburbs) and now spend a lot of time reading about people on Facebook. That just about sums it up. How about you?”
The online frenzy ultimately led us to plan last weekend’s 40th reunion in our hometown of Bloomfield, NJ. A majority of those who attended were locals although several folks planned trips “home” to match up with the reunion.

As each new person walked in, others in the room quickly attempted to guess who they were. Animated conversations quickly drowned out the music and only the pizzas (pies in the local vernacular) were able to quiet thing down. The talk naturally turned to the people and the pranks that everyone remembered.

I would like to think that Sister Adrian, our principal for those 6 years, would be shocked by the conversation but probably not. Every class claims with pride that they were the worst or the rowdiest even though teachers know better. Can you imagine kids bragging that their class had the highest grades and best behavior? Neither can I.

I don’t think I’m insulting anyone when I say most of us weren’t good friends at the time. We were just classmates who shared a great many childhood experiences and inhaled a large amount of chalk dust.

After last Saturday’s reunion I would revise that statement. I think we were more like siblings who spend years ignoring each other only to realize how much they know and how much they care about each other.

Facebook is buzzing these days with St. Thomas reunion photos. To an outsider, the pictures show a bunch of 50 somethings standing around talking. To those who sat in class and church (and detention) at St. Thomas the Apostle School, it was a memorable trip back in time.

There's More Than Corn In Indiana

Everyone has an opinion about people from New Jersey. Like ‘em or hate ‘em, people from Jersey are hard to ignore.

The same can’t be said for people from Indiana. They seem nice enough and unless you have a grudge with Bobby Knight or the University of Notre Dame, your opinion about the Hoosier State is probably flexible.

Several days after our wedding in 1979, we packed up and moved from the urban northeast to a city surrounded by corn…Muncie, Indiana. I had accepted a job at Ball State University and a change of scenery suited us just fine.

The move left more than a few folks back home confused though. Why would someone move away from the New York City area to Indiana? It sounded more like witness protection than a career opportunity but we had the last laugh. We paid about half price for housing compared to New Jersey and were able to travel for years while they paid their hefty mortgages.

We moved from Muncie to Munster, an Indiana suburb of Chicago for a few years and then settled in Mishawaka, a neighbor to South Bend. Our honeymoon drive to Indiana had lasted for 15 years until Allen ISD came calling.

Our friend Donna from Indiana or Michigan was visiting this past weekend. It’s an either or because she lives in Michigan but works in Indiana. Locals just call it Michiana - seriously. Anyway, the subject of Indiana came up at our graduation party and I challenged folks to tell me what they knew about Indiana.

The list of facts was rather short. We determined that they have a big car race, they used to have Bobby Knight, you drive through it to get somewhere else and no one actually knows what a Hoosier is. All four statements were accurate.

It’s easy to imagine Indiana as a big field of corn bisected with interstate highways and believe me; there is no shortage or corn or highways. Still, during my 15 years as a Hoosier, I came across some interesting facts. For example:

At the height of Michael Jackson’s fame, the state legislature moved to put the Gary, Indiana native’s image on the state license plates. The proposal never passed.

The song Indiana Wants Me was written by R. Dean Taylor, a Toronto, Ontario native. The song Back Home Again In Indiana was written by a Hoosier though – it was James Hanley of Rensselaer. Sung by Jim Nabors, the song kicks off the Indianapolis 500 race each year.
Speaking of “The 500,” did you know that the first long distance car race ever was held in 1911at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. You probably didn’t know that David Letterman was born in Indianapolis. You probably did know that he graduated from Ball State University which is affectionately called “fruit jar tech” because of its roots to the Ball family and Ball jars.
James Dean grew up a few exits north in Marion and John Mellencamp really came from a small town (Seymour).

Basketball is very big in Indiana. The largest high school gym is located in New Castle with a seating capacity of 9,325. Down the road, the Anderson “WigWam” only seats 8,995 fans.
According to www.50states.com, Indiana means, "Land of the Indians" but there are fewer than 8,000 Native Americans living in the state today.

My favorite fact is that the state seal shows a bison leaping in front of a rising sun. A former governor was once asked what the seal represented. “It means you have to get up pretty early in the morning to see any bison in Indiana,” he said.

So the next time you are passing through “The Crossroads of America,” take time to look around and enjoy the scenery. The corn is pretty good too.

Memorial Bricks Have Story To Tell

“How many Germans did you kill in World War II,” I asked my father once.

I was disappointed that the answer was none. In fact, he was pretty sure that he never fired a gun in combat even though he had followed George Patton across North Africa and up through Italy. I
Lt. William J. Carroll was actually a member of the Army signal corps and had responsibility for a small unit that operated radar equipment from the back of a truck.

Lt. Carroll met Lt. Mary J. Lynch, my future mother, in the officer’s mess on a ship somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean. He admitted that he had volunteered for watch because he’d get to eat first and more importantly he’d get to eat with the nurses. The plan obviously worked.

Lt. Lynch enlisted in the Army out of nursing school and spent the next year working under extreme conditions in operating rooms in places like Algiers, Palermo and Naples. A family friend observed that my mother saw more action than most GI’s because the nurses were needed most where the fighting was the worst.

“I’d be rich if I had a nickel for every marriage proposal I heard during the war,” she once said.
John A. Brownrigg, an aviation machinist third class and my future father-in-law, enlisted in the Navy in 1944 at the age of 17. He bounced around naval air stations and land bases from late 1944 – 1946 eventually ending up at Orote Point, Guam.

“I showed up looking for my unit and they had shipped out,” he told me one night. “I asked the Marines at the base what I should do and they suggested I look busy so I kept busy.”

The war had ended and the Marines were obviously more fixed on getting home than keeping Navy machinist third class John Brownrigg busy. He shipped home shortly after that.

Besides military service, these three relatives of mine have one more thing in common…they all have an engraved brick placed in their honor at the new Allen Veteran’s Memorial.

The memorial, which is located at Bethany Lakes Park, will be dedicated on Memorial Day starting at 11:30 a.m.

The project was first proposed in 2002 by the Leadership Allen Class XV, according to Larry Nordgaard, a member of the class and also a member of local VFW Post #215.

“We found a lot of people who liked the idea but funding was difficult to find,” he explained. “The CDC (Community Development Corporation) Board first funded the architectural work and later stepped forward with funding for the whole project in 2008.”

The memorial includes five 17’ obelisks representing branches of the Armed Services along with a flagpole, benches and a brick wall. Families may purchase engraved bricks for the wall or the patio surrounding the flagpole.

The Allen Veterans Memorial Committee has sold 21 larger bricks and 47 smaller ones which have been installed for the dedication. Bricks will continue to be sold for installation by Veteran’s Day in November.

“Our purpose is to preserve the memory and honor those who served,” says Nordgaard. “The bricks honor some currently serving in the military and others who served as long ago as World War I.”

There are currently 68 engraved bricks in the Allen Veterans Memorial. There is a story behind every name on those bricks and we appreciate Larry Nordgaard, the Leadership Allen Class #15, the CDC Board and the City of Allen for giving us a place to remember them.

Safety Patrol Boy To The Rescue

“Thanks to you Mr. Carroll, St. Thomas The Apostle Elementary School is a safer place,” said Sr. Adrian, our principal. “Your behavior as a safety patrol boy is a model for our younger students to follow.”

Like Theodore Cleaver, I imagined donning the white belt and ultimately winning the praise of our principal and admiration of my fellow students.
The reality of being a patrol boy didn’t live up to my expectations. I earned the safety belt and had many conversations with Sister Adrian.

Unfortunately they sounded more like this.
“Mr. Carroll, once again you were not at your post. I shouldn’t have to remind you that your post faces the rectory and Monsignor O’Brien could walk through that unattended door at any moment.”
I guess you could say I was easily distracted. After a few months of standing guard in the side stairwell, I had not seen much action. I could boss around a few bus kids who exited my door but I was basically hidden from view each afternoon. School dismissed through the main doors and only the best (principal’s favorite) patrol boys / girls got that assignment.

Speaking of corners, the best assignments were a block or two away from the school at busy intersections. The older kids (girls) always lingered there and you were far enough away from the nuns. Those assignments would be labeled as patronage jobs in today’s vocabulary. The principal probably selected them based on grades, maturity and their knowledge of the Catechism.
The coolest part of the safety patrol gig was the belt and badge. When rolled up, it could be used for a game of catch. Once opened, it could be snapped like a wet towel except the metal clips left a more lasting impression.

The familiar white belt’s history goes back to a British army officer named Sam Browne. Browne was serving as an officer in India in the 19th century and had trouble holding his sword in place after he lost his arm in battle. He created a second belt that held the sword in place as well as his pistol and binoculars. The idea was carried forward by officers on both sides in World War I.
The safety “patrol boys” were created by the American Automobile Association in 1920 “to direct children, not traffic and model good safety practices.” They wore an AAA safety patrol badge with the white Sam Browne belt which was later replaced with orange safety vests.

Like most volunteer assignments, the safety patrol job lost its appeal as the year wore on. The weather turned warm and watching other kids walk home with the girls was probably the distraction Sr. Adrian referred to.

I posted a comment about the safety patrol on our grammar school’s Facebook page this past week. The best response out of many came from a former patrol boy.

“I can’t believe they trusted us,” he said. “I mean, give a 12 year-old a badge and it goes to his head!”

It’s hard to argue with that.

It All Starts With Kindergarten

Graduation is a time to look forward but it is also a time to look backwards. As my son John approaches graduation from Allen High School next week, I can’t help but look back to his first day of school – to the day that Kathy Ellis came into our lives.

Her official title was kindergarten teacher at Vaughan Elementary School but Mrs. Ellis meant more than that to us as we hovered at the door that first day. She was the most important teacher in the world because she had our child in her care. As she had done for hundreds of parents before us, she gave a nod and a knowing smile that meant things would be ok. She was right.

More than thirteen years later, John and Mrs. Ellis are both looking at the end of their school careers in Allen. John is looking ahead to Texas Tech and his kindergarten teacher is looking ahead to retirement.

It is no surprise that Kathy Ellis became a teacher. Her parents, her grandmother and her aunt were all educators. Her husband Zach is a teacher in Plano and both of their sons, Tyler and Jeremy, have chosen teaching careers. She taught kindergarten for 22 years and second grade for another 9 years

“I began teaching right out of college (Stephen F. Austin),” she says. “I then taught kindergarten for 22 years and second grade for another 9 years. I’ve been on a school schedule my entire life.”
Every grade is important but kindergarten is such a unique part of school, according to Ellis. “It’s where children learn how to work with others and figure out how school works. It all begins here.”
“The children are so hungry to learn. They want to please and they are so excited just to be in school,” she adds. “They are so involved in the hands-on play activities that they don’t realize they are learning.”

Teachers use a term called transitions to explain how students wrap up one activity or task and move on to another. In kindergarten, it’s about learning the routines and procedures for things older kids take for granted, says Ellis. Trips to the library, the cafeteria, the bathroom and even the water fountain require planning with a class of five year-olds.
Ellis has enjoyed her time in second grade as well. “The students are more independent and they know the routine. They are still excited about school and are easier to communicate with. They are a pleasure to be with.”

What older kids remember most about kindergarten, according to Ellis, are the special days such as western day and the 100th day and mud pie day and field day. A favorite for many Vaughan students was the wedding day each winter when Mr. Q and Mrs. U got married.
“You just have to love kids to be a successful teacher,” explains Ellis. “You have to enjoy being with them; you have to care about their families and be willing to nurture their learning. It can be a challenge at times but it is so rewarding.”

“Teaching at any level requires a lot of energy and giving. Good teachers pour themselves into their work at school and at home. It’s all about creating great learning experiences for children.”
It’s also about knowing when to give a nod and a knowing smile to some nervous parents.
Best wishes to Mrs. Ellis and all of our Allen ISD family members who will be retiring at the end of this school year.

Remembering The Green Monster

For something so important in my life, it seems hard to believe. I don’t have a single photograph; I don’t know the year it was made or even how I acquired it. But I sure remember my Schwinn Typhoon bicycle.

The green monster as it came to be known was actually my third bicycle but it was the first one I bought with my own money. Using $50 I had received as a confirmation gift, I bought a used green Typhoon from some guy whose kid left for college. It was probably the first “big” purchase I’d ever made.

In car terms, the Schwinn Typhoon was more like a Pontiac while the Roadmaster was more like a Cadillac. Kids that had Tuffy bikes in the 60’s probably drove Plymouths later in life.
Anyway, my bike was a shiny green cruiser with wide chrome fenders, a headlight, fat tires and dual baskets in the rear.

I imagined delivering newspapers or carrying groceries in those big baskets like the kids in the commercials. Instead, they were usually full of baseballs, gloves and bats. Friends also found them useful for hitching rides straddling the rear fender with feet in the baskets.

I am not exaggerating when I say that the green monster changed my life. I could ride across town to visit friends and cruise the park for a pick up ball game. By seventh grade I was also cruising the park for a different reason but that’s a column for another day.

My friend Gary had a black version of the same bicycle and we would take road trips during the summer to exotic locations like Nutley and Montclair (NJ). Our favorite trip that was repeated often led to Garrett Mountain in Clifton. Including a stop at the candy store and a picnic lunch, it took most of the day to get there and back. We figured it was about 20 miles away but MapQuest says it is exactly 4.8 miles one way. The route must have gotten shorter since we were kids.

The green monster was no sports car but its wide tires and heavy frame made it a breeze to drive. It could be easily ridden with a basketball under one arm and even with no hands when necessary. The bike and I also survived a collision with a car (Don’t Tell Mom I Got Hit By a Car, 4-24-08). Luckily I wasn’t riding one of those modern Stingray models.

Somewhere around eighth grade, Gary and I stripped our bikes down to resemble dirt bikes which were just becoming popular. We pulled off the fenders and baskets and gave them new paint jobs. Our reward was a back full of mud every time it rained but at least they didn’t rattle as they rolled down the street.

With a driving age of 17, bicycles were an acceptable form of transportation through most of high school but the old Schwinn had become uncool. I bought a used English racer bike in 10th grade and retired the green monster.

According to Schwinn’s corporate history, over a million bicycles a year were being produced in the 1960’s but only one was called the green monster.

What Are The Odds Part 2

When we left the New Jersey vacationers last week, they were recovering from a 3 a.m. arrival and the river outside the hotel was rising from 10” of rain.

Despite the weather, my son John, his friend Pierse and I drove 13 miles into Manhattan to attend the Big East Basketball Finals between Georgetown and West Virginia. The odds favored the Mountaineers 3-2 which matched the odds of being blown off Route 3 with 60 mph gusts of wind.
As locals will tell you, the odds of driving straight into New York City through the Lincoln Tunnel without stopping are slim to none but there we were cruising into the Port Authority parking lot feeling very smug.

We caught the subway to Penn Station which is conveniently located below Madison Square Garden and were smug once more that we had avoided the driving rain (hold that thought).
Following a great game, we discovered that the subways were shut down due to power outages caused by flooding. We were less smug as we walked 6 blocks against the cross town winds in the rain.

Meanwhile back in the swamps of Jersey, the busy Route 3 was closed due to downed power lines. We worked our way around that problem and headed back to the hotel – the one with the rising river. What are the odds that our evening was not over yet?

As we reached the crest of a long hill that leads into Little Falls (NJ), we noticed that the stores, diners and yes, hotel, was completely dark. The storm had knocked out power almost everywhere. Power is not a necessity when heading to bed late a night.

It was about 1:30 a.m. when I heard shouting in the parking lot 4 stories below. The odds of a fight breaking out between drunken wedding revelers may be 25 – 1. But even Jimmy the Greek would have a hard time predicting a fight between members of the same wedding party during a blackout in the rain. It made for great late night theater if we could see beyond the headlights of the wedding party van and the police lights.

I could only assume that the “Welcome DeRocco Wedding” sign I saw the next morning was placed in the foyer when the DeRocco’s were still on speaking terms.

The odds of the nearby Willowbrook Mall being closed outside of major holidays are 1000 – 1 but there it was, surrounded by the Passaic River up to aisle B-4. The entrance ramps were under water. We heard it made national news that day but we, of course, did not have electricity.
The rain continued as we waited in line outside the Ed Sullivan Theater on Monday. The odds of being chosen for the front rows at Letterman diminished with age and fashion sense. Those people with “the look” got numbered tickets while we were placed out of the camera’s view upstairs. The odds of Jennifer Aniston being Letterman’s guest were at least 300 – 1 but there she was clowning with Dave.

Our final shot at beating the odds came when we heard that the NIT (National Invitational Tournament) basketball pairings had Texas Tech playing in Newark (NJ) against Seton Hall the next night. The odds of two future Tech students being in Newark for the game were probably 3000 – 1 but there they were proudly wearing their Red Raider shirts and cheering with the other 22 fans who made the trip. Coach Pat Knight personally thanked them after the win because he couldn’t figure the odds of 22 people from Lubbock making it to Newark with one day’s notice.

The odds of the sun breaking out as our plane flew away were even because for once, it just what we expected to happen.