(A repeat from November 7, 2011)
Shortly after Donna and I were married, we took a drive out to Western Illinois. We stopped at an antique shop outside of a small town. After wandering around – and finding nothing – we strolled outside and headed to the car. Suddenly we heard shouts and yells from the store. The door banged open and a man – running – burst out covering his head. He was being chased and pummeled by another man with an antique crutch(!!). Whack! Whack!
Having no clue what to do – if anything – I pointed and yelled “YOU’RE UNDER ARREST!” The two stopped – one in mid-swing – and turned toward me. Like deer in the headlights. I yelled and pointed “YOU – OVER THERE. AND YOU – OVER THERE.” The two parted and began babbling animatedly – and angrily – what the other had done (“he was. . . .” “no you were. . . .”). A woman came out on the porch of a house – I pointed at her and yelled “YOU – CALL THE POLICE.” She immediately popped back into the house. The two men continued to explain whatever the issue was. But I sensed they were starting to wonder – “who is this guy?”
After a few minutes, and off in the distance, I saw a police car – emergency lights flickering – speeding down the road. Under my breath I hissed to Donna “get in the car.” She did. And I calmly walked to the car got in and we drove away – just as the police car pulled into the driveway. I really had zero curiosity about staying – to find out how it all turned out.
Month: February 2024
Fasty and Slowy
[A repeat from November 27, 2011] When our daughter Lauren was little, Donna and I would often need to find things to keep her occupied while driving in the car or sitting in a restaurant. One evening while having dinner in a Greek restaurant in Evanston, Lauren was getting bored soooo I took my right hand and – using my fingers as “feet” – began walking my hand toward her. Well she squealed with delight. And of course the hand walked up her arm over her head and down the other side. Big smiles. 🙂 Big laughs. 🙂
After a while, I got the other hand into play. Where the right hand was light and quick, the left hand was slow, lumbering and ponderous. And heavy. My index fingers would be raised to serve as “heads” of the two critters. And so, “Fasty and Slowy” were born. Fasty was nimble and danced lightly over the table and all over Lauren (and even bouncing on top of Slowy) while Slowy plodded along. Slowly. Heavily. And when Slowy stepped onto our daughter’s hand, he was . . .well, heavy. Lauren thought it was hysterical! And so Fasty and Slowy were regular visitors from then on.
Fasty and slowy have been in hibernation for quite a few years. But I have a feeling that pretty soon they’ll be making a reappearance. . . .
Postscript – Fasty and Slowy did make a comeback with the arrival of my granddaughters. At this point – for the most part – they are back in hibernation. . . . .
Recidivism
Despite ongoing efforts to reduce the rate of recidivism among those who are released from prison, statistics show that nearly 70% of those released will commit further crime within five years of getting out. More than half of all inmates of prisons have served time in the past. And chances are they will again. . . . .
What can we do about this disturbing cycle of crime? There are many fine organizations that provide job training, mentoring, education, housing, reconciliation with family and counseling for those who are newly-released. All of these support organizations help reduce rates of recidivism among those who are involved. There are also educational and counseling programs that begin within the walls of prison. But there is another blue ribbon program that is providing valuable results: religious congregations.
My friend and fraternity brother from Augustana College – Pastor Paul Stone — has spent nearly four decades in prison . . . . as a visitor. . . . Pastor Paul has been setting up and overseeing prison congregations on a regular basis through Prison Congregations of America and the Iowa chapter – Church of the Damascus Road. Prison congregations encourage inmates to become involved in faith-based programs. Bible study. Church services. Meetings. Spiritual awakening. There are two things that are important to know about prison congregations: they are open to everyone — to those with faith and to those with none; and rates of recidivism among those who participate in prison congregations show a drop of nearly 50%.
On December 4, 2023, Pastor Paul made his debut in The Wall Street Journal talking about the value of prison congregations. This last Saturday (February 17th), he is quoted in the Chicago Tribune on the same topic. Regardless of where one stands on matters of religion, the point is that prison congregations make a difference. There is literally no “downside.” And everyone wins. . . . .
The Class of 1947
I just celebrated a birthday. I moved from “76 Trombones” to “77 Sunset Strip.” Next year it will be 78 rpm [for those too young – that relates to record player speed]. I have a lot of company — college pals, golfing buds and celebrities. Many of us born in the year 1947. The biggest and most prominent celebrity born in that year is my wife Donna – born exactly 30 days after me.
Among the heavyweights born in that year, I’m in pretty good company. My brethren and sisthren include: Arnold Schwarzenegger, Barbara Bach, David Bowie, Glenn Close, Albert Brooks, O.J. Simpson, Emmylou Harris, Meat Loaf, Ted Danson, Camilla Parker Bowles, Elton John, James Woods, Carlos Santana, Farrah Fawcett, Sam Neill, David Letterman, Stephen King, Teri Garr, David Mamet and Hillary Clinton.
When I look at myself in the mirror – and at the assembly of college pals, golfing buddies and celebrities, I have to wonder just why I’m here. I got to thinking about that – and looked up those special events that occurred in 1947. And then it dawned on me. . . .
In 1947, an alleged Army Air Force balloon crashed near Roswell, New Mexico. It was said that it had been operated from nearby Alamogordo Air Base as part of the top secret “Project Mogul.” However when debris was recovered, it was determined that it had been a flying disc — and likely a UFO. One has to wonder about the numerous alien life forms that likely escaped that space ship in 1947 into the . . . . never mind. . . .
I was just thinking. . . .
Did you know that dolphins are so smart they can train people to stand on the edge of a pool and throw them fish. When wearing a bikini, women reveal 90% of their body. Men are so polite they only look at the covered parts.
My therapist says I have a preoccupation with vengeance. We’ll see about that.
Money talks… all mine ever says is good-bye.
You’re not fat, you’re just… easier to see.
If you think nobody cares whether you’re alive, try missing a couple of payments.
I can’t understand why women are okay that JC Penny has an older women’s clothing line named, “Sag Harbor.”
My therapist said that my narcissism causes me to misread social situations. I’m pretty sure she was hitting on me.
My 65 year kindergarten reunion is coming up soon and I’m worried about the 175 pounds I’ve gained since then.
The location of your mailbox shows you how far away from your house you can be in a robe before you start looking like a mental patient.
The reason Mayberry was so peaceful and quiet was because almost nobody was married. Andy, Aunt Bea, Barney, Floyd, Howard, Goober, Gomer, Sam, Earnest T. Bass, Helen, Thelma Lou, Clara and, of course, Opie were all single. The only married person was Otis, and he stayed drunk ALL the time.
The Hotel Selu
[A repeat from February 17, 2017] Cordoba. Spain. 1972. Donna and I had been married a few months and we took a belated honeymoon trip – 3 weeks – to Spain and Portugal. Two 25 year olds hoofing around with no reservations. No plans. No itinerary. Getting up each morning and going “what shall we do today?” Fortunately we were in sync on pretty much everything so the trip went swimmingly. We stayed in state-run “Paradores” for about ten bucks a night. And we dined on the “four C’s” — calamari, coffee, churros and chocolate. And informally followed famed matador Diego Puerta as he wound his way through Spain – featured in various corridas. The bullfighting was special having just read Hemingway’s 1932 classic Death in the Afternoon. And Michener’s Iberia.
Then – we got to Cordoba. It was late. The Parador was booked. And other hotels had no room. Finally – tired and hungry – we found a room. In the basement of the Hotel Selu. Cue the theme from “Dragnet” . . . .
Now today – the Hotel Selu may be a four star offering. But in 1972 it was . . . . Anyway, we checked in. There were chickens cackling outside our window. And some guy was yelling at his wife in the next room (I think the walls were made of cardboard). Donna sat down on the bed and began to cry. . . . And that was before the rooster woke us up at 4:30 a.m. . . . .
I felt like an idiot. But mind you – I am not as dumb as I look. So I resolved then and there that there would be no more Hotel Selus in Donna’s future. Over the years, we’ve come close a few times but so far I’ve stayed out of that kind of trouble. . . . .
Patrol Boys
(An old favorite from 11/20/14)
When I was in 6th and 7th grade, I was a “patrol boy.” After careful instruction, I was given a white Sam Brown belt (a 3″ white belt with an angled strap from one hip to the opposite shoulder). And I was given power. I was the capo di tutti capi (or one of them) for Lincoln School in Mt. Prospect. Donna was a patrol girl back in Rye, NY.
I stood at the street corner. When kids wanted to cross the street, I would thrust my arms out to the sides (“don’t go“). When traffic slowed, I would step into the street and shove my arm into the air – stop! And cars would slow and stop. It’s a patrol boy. Kids would cross. I would step back and motion the drivers with an “as you were” wave. Yeah. 6th grade.
Today, you see crossing guards who are old. Retired. Some look old enough to be my grandfather (or grandmother). Now that’s old. Not as nimble as a patrol boy. They wear iridescent vests, reflective hats, and they carry a monster “STOP” sign. A few look like they’re geared up for a SWAT team. I remember seeing one old guy wearing a helmet.
I always wondered why the patrol boy era came to an end. Probably lawyers. And helicopter parents who worry about a child having authority. Autonomy. Power. Think about resurrecting the patrol boy (and girl) era. Think about the sense of responsibility. Confidence. Growing up. I know it’s a different time. But it’s still the old protecting versus insulating children (see my offering of 11/21/13). We want to give children wings. And roots.
So this little old lady
[A humorous repeat from April 2, 2020] So this little old lady is working in a hardware store. She is dusting and cleaning and fussing. In walks a large workman wearing bib overalls and high-top boots.
She smiles “Can I help you?”
“Lady, I need to buy a file.”
She puts her hands together and smiles. “Oh my – we have all sorts of files.” She turns and points to the array of tools. “We have these. And these. And these. . . . .”
“I really need a bastard file,” he says.
The old woman – shocked – puts her hand to her mouth and runs to the manager. She glares sternly and points “that man used a bad word in front of me. He said he wanted a ‘bastard’ file.”
The manager smiled and said “it’s not a bad word. There are wood files and metal files and a ‘bastard’ file is actually a type of file for metalworking (this is true). Why not go back and sell him the file.”
So she did.
A few days later another big workman came in. He said “Ma’am, I need a file.”
She smiled. “Would you like this bastard here?”
“No” he thought. “I’ll take that SOB* over there. . . . ”
*This term is subject to personal preference.
Renaissance Hombre 