A Bad Influence

On By scottpetersenIn Martin Guitar, Scott & the Bookends, Steve Miller BandLeave a comment

[An oldie from July 12, 2015] On Friday night, Donna and I went to see the Steve Miller Band at Ravinia.  Oh my socks and shoes.  What a show!  Steve Miller was born in Milwaukee in 1943 and he still warbles like he did in his 1970’s classics.  And he plays a rock solid lead guitar.  Everything I ever dreamed of.

Steve’s family moved to Dallas when he was 7 years old.  He got his big start in music at the age of 12 – when he put a 3 piece band together and started doing gigs.  Wearing a suit and sunglasses.  On Friday nights, his mother would have to drive him to his gig.  And then pick him up.  In 1965, Steve moved from Texas to Chicago to play the Blues.  And he did.  Big time.  But a year or two later, he headed to San Francisco where he formed his iconic band.  And the rest as they say – is history.    

In my post of April 20, 2012 (“Martin O-18“), I suggested that I might well have had a different career path if I had stayed in my group (two girls and me).  It has crossed my mind to get the group back together. While Steve Miller was wowing the crowd with a high decibel version of “Fly Like an Eagle,” I leaned over to Donna and said “He is a very bad influence on me.”  I gave her a toothy smile.   Blinked a few times.  Sensing at once what I was referring to, she turned slowly – and gave me “that look” – and said “don’t quit the day job, Elvis.”  Sigh. . . . . 

Listen to the Crickets. . . . .

On By scottpetersenIn Listen to the Crickets, Slow down and listen to the cricketsLeave a comment

[An oldie from June 26, 2016] My daughter was driving my 4 year old granddaughter Eve – to camp earlier this week. The windows were down.  As they approached a train crossing gate, Eve yelled to Lauren “SLOW DOWN!” Lauren turned and dutifully slowed down.  And stopped the car by the crossing gate.  And looked back at Eve.

Eve said “listen mommy . . . . listen to the crickets.” And through the open windows came a heavenly choir of chirping crickets – or “hot bugs” as I used to call them – singing in the trees.  And Eve said “listen” to the chorus of birds singing.  Lauren said she had really not paid attention.  It took a 4 year old to appreciate this music of nature. 

When I heard this story, my eyes got a bit misty.  I know we are often told to stop and smell the flowers but I’ve never really thought of stopping to listen to the crickets.   There are five traditionally-recognized methods of perception:  taste; touch; smell; sight; and sound.  Five senses.

I love the smell of a campfire.  The taste of spaghetti carbonara. The sight of a golf ball (my golf ball) heading toward the green. And the feel of hot sand under my feet.  But I sometimes forget about slowing down to truly enjoy the gift of our world’s auditory offerings.  Like listening to crickets.

Strom

On By scottpetersenIn Augustana College, Strom Thurmond3 Comments

1968 was a big year for politics. The Presidential election pitted former Vice President Richard Nixon against incumbent VP Hubert Humphrey. Former Alabama Governor George Wallace ran as an independent. My school – Augustana College – hosted a mock political convention in April 1968. A couple political heavyweights were invited – including South Carolina Senator Strom Thurmond (who had run for President as an independent in 1948).

The school borrowed a limo and I was tasked to be Strom’s chauffer since I had a driver’s license. On Friday – at the appointed hour for pickup – I drove to the Rock Island Airport and waited – by the back of the car. Holding the door open. Strom burst out of the gate – said “Hi Son” – and promptly hopped in the front seat. Next to me. “Heck I’m not sittin’ back there.” And he never did during his entire visit. As I started up the car, he immediately began asking me. About me. . . . .

That evening, the faculty hosted a dinner at the President’s home. I drove up to the curb – he opened the door and stepped out. The President and a few others walked down to the car. Strom pointed at me and said something like “good kid. I’d like him to join us for dinner.” And I was invited in – sitting at a large setting – having dinner with Strom. And a bunch of faculty. My mouth sealed shut. . . . .

After dinner, I went to his lodging to drop him off but he asked me to take a walk. It was dark – but we walked. Strom talking and asking about my classes and plans. Suddenly Strom fell face forward onto the ground. I gasped. And immediately he began doing pushups. Scout’s Honor. And he suggested I pump out a few. So I did. Strom – former 82d Airborne major general – wanted to “stay in shape.”

Early on Sunday morning, Strom asked me to drive him to the Confederate Cemetery on the Rock Island Arsenal Island where 1,964 soldiers – former prisoners of war from the Civil War – are buried. The air was cool and the ground wet with dew. Strom – wearing a suit – knelt on the ground. Hands clasped. He prayed for a good five minutes. Alone. No press. No one saw him. But me. When he got up, the knees of his pants were soaked. And we drove off to the airport. A couple weeks later, a letter from Strom arrived. Thanking me for being a “very able chauffeur” and inviting me to visit him in Washington.

Wherever one might be on Strom’s politics, in my opinion the man was the real deal in terms of his character. I wish more of America’s politicians had character . . . . .

Wow!

On By scottpetersenIn Washington & Lee UniversityLeave a comment

[A repeat from 1/13/21] In the late summer of 1994, Donna and I drove Lauren to Nashville — to begin her college career at Vanderbilt. As Donna and Lauren went off to do some mother-daughter bonding, I sat in the hotel room and thumbed through the Yellow Pages. I first looked under “Autographs” then under “Books – Antiquarian.” I had been publishing listings and catalogs of historic autographs and occasional rare books for perhaps a dozen years. And I was always on the hunt . . . . .

One old book store caught my eye. So I hopped in the car and drove to the location – a block down from campus. I walked in the door – sniffed – and thought hmmmm this could be interesting . . . . . I walked around for a few minutes then headed toward the back where an elderly chap sat hunched over a desk. “Do you have any old autograph material – old letters or documents?” The old fellow grunted “Nope.” I then persisted – “do you have anything handwritten? Any old signed stuff.” He looked up – grunted again – and shuffled off to a back room. After a few minutes he returned with a two inch thick file folder and – true – he blew dust off the top. And handed it to me. I could tell it was full of really old stuff.

I set the folder on a table and opened it. My jaw dropped. The top item was a Washington College diploma dated June 18, 1868, for “R. C. Morrison.” The second item was a Washington College report card dated May 31, 1867, for “William Cochrane.” Both were signed by the President of the College — Robert E. Lee. “Washington College” later became “Washington and Lee University.” I looked up. The elderly chap was back at his desk burrowed in some papers. I held up the diploma – “whaddaya want for this?” He thought – “a hundred bucks.” The second item he said was a “hundred and a quarter.”

Long story short, I bought the entire file folder for five hundred dollars. It was full of other gems. I sold the Robert E. Lee items to a dealer friend for more than what I paid for the batch. I still have copies of the Lee items. And I remember being glad I checked out the Yellow Pages instead of watching a football game.

And Speaking of Conservation

On By scottpetersenIn Conservation, Just Turn it OffLeave a comment

[An early repeat of May 21, 2012] I go to the local fitness center a few times a week.  In the locker room, guys sometimes stand at the sink.  Shaving.  I remember one guy had the water on full blast. He walked around the locker area while the water ran in the sink. Talked. Laughed. Then slowly back — to rinse the razor.  And back to chat by a locker. And the water ran.  Good, clean, fresh water.  Full blast.   Down the drain. Never to return. . . . . 

In my post of July 26, 2011, I spoke of my registered trademark — JUST TURN IT OFF.  A trademark I used in connection with small efforts in the direction of energy and water conservation.   It is something everyone can do.  It’s easy.  Shaving?  Turn the water on – and off – as needed.  It’s a small thing but it counts.   Shower?  Turn it on, get wet.  And turn it off while you soap down (I think I actually get “cleaner” this way).  Then rinse.  Washing dishes? Use water as needed. Going from room to room?  Turn off unneeded lights and energy.    Waiting in your car?  Turn off the engine. 

It doesn’t sound like much but just think if every American saved one gallon of water a day.  That’s 300,000,000 plus gallons of clean, fresh water.   Enough to fill 455 Olympic sized swimming pools. Save a quart?  That’s still 75,000,000 gallons a day.   Our children and grandchildren will need clean water down the road.  I – like you – want it to be there for them. 

Try it.  Just turn it off. . . . .

Conservation

On By scottpetersenIn Conservation, Just Turn it OffLeave a comment

[An oldie from May 18, 2012] My good friend Antonio, who lives in Monterrey, Mexico (see post of March 12, 2012), and I were communing about how conservation worked when we were young (he is a few years younger than me).  It was pretty simple.  

Bottles were returned for a deposit – then reused.  Clothes were dried on a line – by solar and wind power.  No 220 volt dryers chugging for an hour and a half.  Diapers were washed and reused.  We had one television in the house with a screen the size of a placemat.  There were no “stadium sized” televisions.  Our moms used an egg beater to whisk everything (there was no blender).  And when we shipped Christmas presents, our parents crumpled newspapers for packing.  There were no plastic “peanuts” or bubble wrap.  We cut the grass with a hand mower.    And raked leaves. Wardrobes were pretty modest.  No “new models” except hand-me-downs.   There were no plastic water bottles (which today are made, used in a minute and thrown out by the billions).  There was one water glass by the kitchen and bathroom sinks — that everyone used.   Rinse to clean – drink.   Stores and businesses had water fountains.  Thirsty?  Use the water fountain.   And my father changed razor blades in his Schick razor.  Very little was “disposable” . . . .  

Have we become lazy and complacent?  You tell me.   We hear political trumpets sounding about saving the environment and how we must look forward and not back.  But I do think that looking backward – at least in some areas – could sure provide a lesson for how we might best look ahead.

Joe Miller’s Joke Book

On By scottpetersenIn Humor Exchange, Joe Miller's Joke Book, The Best MedicineLeave a comment

[A well-needed repeat from January 6, 2013] I always wanted to be a stand up comedian — but I don’t have the legs for it.  Comedians actually run in my family.  They have to if they want to survive. . . . .

I like jokes.  Humor.  Comedy.  The Three Stooges (“are you kidding Petersen?”).  The Honeymooners.  Seinfeld.  I like to laugh.   A favorite funny movie?  “Planes Trains and Automobiles.”  Or maybe it’s “Airplane.”  Or “Young Frankenstein.”  Or “The Pink Panther.”  Humor is a great medicine (see post of July 28, 2011).  One of the best.   

The person I’d like most to have dinner with?  Aristophanes (see post of August 28, 2011).  Aristophanes was the first stand up comedian in about 400 B.C.  He got in big trouble with the Emperor – Cleon – for pretending on stage that he was Cleon.  Smeared with wine.  And drunk . . . .

The first book of jokes wasn’t published until 1739.  It was Joe Miller’s Joke Book, then known as Joe Miller’s Jests or The Wit’s Vade-Mecum.  Joe Miller (1684-1738) was an English actor who played a large number of humorous/comedic parts.  When Miller died, a chap named John Motley (1692-1750) published Joe Miller’s “jests” in 1739.  It was a collection of contemporary and ancient witticisms.  The first edition had 247 numbered jokes. 

“A famous teacher of Arithmetick who had long been married without being able to get his Wife with Child.  One said to her ‘Madam, your Husband is an excellent Arithmetician.’  ‘Yes, replies she, only he can’t multiply.'”   (That’s number 234) 

Joe Miller was referred to by Scrooge in Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol (1843) (“Joe Miller never made such a joke as sending [the turkey] to Bob’s. . . .”). 

When I croak, perhaps someone will write “The Renaissance Hombre’s Joke Book.”  I have a card file full of them . . . .

Post script from my post on “The Best Medicine” (May 17, 2024) – For years, Denise Driscoll, an oncological nurse in Lake County, sponsored “The Humor Exchange” – a monthly meeting open to the public. The purpose – to laugh, giggle, chortle and guffaw. Why? Because laughter helps release “T” cells – the cells that go after bad stuff. And makes everyone feel good. And better. . . .

I don’t like anybody very much

On By scottpetersenIn They're Rioting in AfricaLeave a comment

[An appropriate post from September 15, 2021] “They’re Rioting in Africa” – also called “The Merry Minuet” – was written by Tom Lehrer in 1958. It was first sung that year by Ellie Stone. And later recorded by Harry Belafonte in a performance at The Greek Theatre in Washington. It was popularized by the Kingston Trio in the early 1960’s (see https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MCTdfo6T-u8 ). Great tune – which I remember well.

In less than 2 minutes, the Kingston Trio has summarized the state of our world, most countries, many towns, families and even friendships. And it sums up the attitude of many otherwise (supposedly?) intelligent people – about anyone who disagrees with them on any issue, topic, subject or political affiliation. If you are on the wrong side of someone’s cause celebre, you may be thrown under the bus. And the door will be slammed shut. Isn’t that just ducky?

This is not funny. It is serious. And it is painfully sad. Can we do anything about this troubling situation? You can. I know you can. So can I. Otherwise. . . .

What nature doesn’t do to us – will be done by our fellow man. . . . .

Running an X-ray machine

On By scottpetersenIn Shoe store fluoroscopes, Wilhelm Roentgen2 Comments

Let’s have a show of hands. . . . how many readers are over the age of 70? I see some hands going up. Oh my . . . . quite a few. Those of you folks who are of that seven decade vintage may recall operating a genuine X-ray machine. And you – like me – may have been 5 to 10 years old.

In November 1895, Wilhelm Roentgen accidentally discovered a strange light that would pass through most substances – leaving a ghostly image of the object’s interior. A month later, Roentgen published his findings in a science publication. Since he didn’t know what the images were, he called them “X-rays.” During World War I, a device called a “fluoroscope” was devised to take images of soldiers’ feet – within their boots – to make sure they fit properly. And soon thereafter, the Foot-O-Scope was devised.

By the early 1950’s, approximately 10,000 fluoroscopes – we’re talking X-ray machines – were operating in shoe stores across the United States. Each one had three viewers – that allowed parents and children to see X-rays of feet – to see if the shoe fit.

I remember with clarity – when I was maybe 7 years old – going with my parents to the shoe store. And using the fluoroscope. I sometimes got to push the button or turn the switch to activate the imaging. I would then X-ray my feet while my parents watched through their own viewers.

The first health concern over radiation issues was released in 1948. By 1957, states began to ban these fluoroscope devices. The reason? Some shoe salesmen developed conditions associated with chronic radiation exposure. For me, I don’t think it ever became a problem though I do have 8 toes on each foot. . . . .

Ultimate Fighting

On By scottpetersenIn Ultimate fightingLeave a comment

Who watches ultimate fighting?  The Sports Business Journal pegs the median age for those who watch ultimate fighting as men – 49 years old.   But when I ask “who” watches ultimate fighting, I’m more interested in what kind of human being enjoys watching men trying to kill each other.    

In my post of March 29, 2018, I spoke of Edward Gibbons’ classic work The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.  The reasons for Rome’s destruction are scarily similar to things happening today in America.  One reason for the Empire’s unraveling was the blood lust of Romans in the brutal gladiator  games.  

Is ultimate fighting any different?  For some aficionados, the more brutal and bloody the match – the better.  Yet read the statistics on UF “warriors” who have died in the ring (or shortly thereafter).  These guys are dropping like flies (or becoming vegetables).  Bump someone on the street too hard and you can be charged with assault and battery.  Extinguish a human life in the UF ring?   And you become a legend.

Who watches ultimate fighting?  I scratch my head on this one.  Yet now I read that President Trump will host an Ultimate Fighting Championship in June 2026 on the South Lawn of the White House. This – to celebrate America’s 250th anniversary. Good idea? Inappropriate? Disgusting? You tell me. . . .