Just.... Go Away

Now that the final days of the year are counting down I must give a few comments. This is the time of the year when there are lists of people who have died, mostly famous, but, some who are not generally known to all of us. These lists remind us, ''Oh, yeah, I forgot he died in this year''. So, it is with great relish that I give a few moments of my time to the people who I wish would go away forever. Now, mind you, I am not advocating their deaths---- for I am all love. But, rather, I just state my irritation that they continue to suck up favorable oxygen and are complete wastes of skin. So, here were go...... Any Politician. It is sure easy to want nothing good to happen to these shysters who pretend to have our--- ha, ha,---- best interests at heart. However, I do wish them some success because it trickles down to us when they do well. But, they aren't doing well. I never heard the term''Fiscal Cliff'' before [ sounds like a Pink Floyd album]. Apparently, this means that we are going fast over an possible economic collapse. The major players in this, the President and Speaker Boehner want the best for us. They wanna save us, but, those darn rascals in the other party won't cooperate!!! So, they are in a stalemate. Which could bring everything crashing down. To see the leader of the free world, and, his Republican opposite argue about who is wrong shows us, once again, the pig-headedness of politics. These stooges got us into this muck, now, they wanna save us. And, how are we going to be saved? Well, dear class, through more money leaving all our pockets, to be put into theirs. The system is so screwed up that we can no longer blame a single party, or, economic plan. Share the burden, boys. Fix the problem with the decency of a human being. And, then Go Away...... Tom Cruise and John Travolta. Come on, guys, we all know that you are closet dicksmokers. The rumors about the ''Scientology Boys'' have been prancing around since they became famous. Rumors usually die after a year or two, but, with these two, the rumors have only gotten stronger. Travolta was the subject of two lawsuits this year from people who were paid to give him a ''massage''. Now, to be fair, both lawsuits were thrown out of court. That doesn't mean that there wasn't some merit to what was alleged, only that there was no, ahem, hard evidence. A more reliable witness to the life of Travolta comes in the form of his good friend, Carrie Fisher. She stated a couple of years ago that all of his friends know of his behavior and have no problem with it. So, Fisher says, he should come clean [ stop giggling]. And, Tommy Cruise? Our Top Gun in Hollywood still tries to play macho with his toy movies. Once again, Cruise is saving the world for the good of Scientology in his latest film, ''Jack Reacharound'', or, whatever it is called. I made a Facebook joke several months ago about how auditions for his new ''wife'' must be a hot ticket for any actress with ambition and no self-esteem. Well, I wasn't far off!!! Several reliable publications have stated that he is, in fact, searching for his new wife. Good God!!! Is this poor son of a bitch screwed up!!!! Both actors should come forward and say the truth. Their days of matinee idol status are long gone. Their movies bring in a fraction of what they used to, so, obviously, the public is not buying their fiction. So, come out of the closet, boys. And, then, Go Away.... The Kardashians and the Jersey Shore casts. I know. This is a slam-dunk. What more needs to be said about this brainless lot? Well, not much about them, but, a lot about their audience who continue to watch this mental train wreck without seeing the light of knowledge. Yes, I understand the theory of many people who say that they watch knowing full well that it is insulting to anyone's intelligence. They see the joke, so, that is why they do not take it seriously. Ok, I will grant some people that, for the sake of the argument. However, what these people do fail apparently to understand is that network executives do not care why you watch, just that you watch. They are making money regardless of the audiences intentions. Why anyone would willingly sink to the level of this trash is beyond my scope of understanding. They are being used, just like the morons who watch and believe they are seeing unscripted, ''reality'' TV. Most of the audience fails to grasp the manipulations that go into programs like this. It is the equivalent of acting like a moron because other people act that way, ignoring the truth that they all a re in the same cesspool and should be judged as one. Many people I know and love watch this dreck and it stumps me of why they do it. So, the best thing is for these cretins on the show-- and, their makers--- to just Go Away..... How about people on Facebook who post EVERYTHING AND EVERY THOUGHT that they have? There are some great thinkers on FB. But, I do not need to hear about how you just had a great political thought, or, about your most recent bowel movement [ the case can be made that these two thoughts can be one in the same]. Another thing that frosts me is when people steal well-known thoughts of famous people and use them as their own without giving due credit to the author. So, if you must be an egotist and share every brilliant thought and reflection on life, please, do not do it on FB. Do it the old-fashioned way: write a blog. Go Away...... Jimmy Fallon. I have to scratch my head until I am bloody to figure out if this shithead has ever done anything even remotely funny. He sure thinks he has. Every once in a while a performer will rise to the top of the entertainment world without any scrap of talent. Fallon is this generation's symbol. He was not funny on ''SNL'' when he was on, with his smirking and ''look how funny I am in this sketch because I can't keep a straight face'' way of performing. His talk show is not really a talk show. It is just a way for him to go from one bad impression to another with a occasional stop with talking to a hapless guest. And, his commercials should be used by medical people to induce vomiting, so painful that they are. I don't get it. I have a fairly strong knowledge of comedy. Even some comedians I do not like I concede have talent, like Billy Crystal or Mike Myers. But, Fallon stumps me. Why Lorne Michaels put all his faith into this guy is an open question. Lorne, who still produces the comatose ''SNL'', has long lost whatever ability to spot funny people. Maybe, because of Lorne Michaels standing in the show business industry, Fallon flourishes. I don't know. I do know that Jimmy Fallon needs to Go Away...... Finally, the year ended with an unspeakable tragedy in a school in Newtown. Nothing more needs to be said about this horror. What needs to be said is how every year we seem to sink more and more into the abyss of murder. Society has become a killing machine, as never before in our history. Why? Well, partly--- and, it is a big part---- because of what we watch. I am one of those who blame Hollywood and video games for adding to the mind of a psycho with the endless displays of violence and destruction. I saw the great director, Quentin Tarantino, recently interviewed on the subject. As much as a fan I am of his work I also concede that he just does not get the link between movie mayhem and real-life mayhem. He defended the right of the artist to express himself in any way that he wants. Well, that is true in terms of artistic license, but, he fails to make a convincing case for society not being influenced by it. Tarantino is on the other side of life, so, part of what he says can be excused as someone living in a bubble of comfort. But, he is very wrong about the influence violence has on society. Walk into any mall and hear the talk, or, see the wardrobe being worn by young adults. It is out of any movie or hip-hop song. Popular movies and music nowadays, more often than not, express rage and disrespect at all society. There has always been that speck of rebellion throughout the generations of youth, but, never more deep and never more hateful, than we see now. The biggest influences on teeneagers and young adults is music and movies and video games. And, most preach some kind of violence on society. Is it any wonder that deeply disturbed individuals, after being constantly exposed to all this madness and dark impulses, break down mentally and lash out. Some do it verbally. Some physically. And, some take out a gun from somewhere and fire at the innocent. I have never believed in censorship across the board because it does curtail originality to some degree. Still, the mindless violence should be policed. Never before have we had this problem. As I write this, there is a commercial playing advertising the remake of ''The Texas Chainsaw Massacre In 3D''. I guarantee that some disturbed minds will find this movie to be an outlet for their horrible thoughts. And, somewhere in these misguided minds, a seed of violence is being planted. This type of entertainment cannot be tolerated anymore. It needs to Go Away...... Remember, I am still all about love. These thoughts are just a few nuggets of what sticks in my craw from time to time. I'm sure that you have yours. However, let me wish you all ''Happy New Year'', full of good health and wealth and good memories. I will see most of you throughout the year and let us all have good times. Cheers!!!!..........

I Will Always Believe

The children were waiting patiently. As patiently as children can wait. They lined up with Mom, and, or Dad. They were waiting for HIM. The Big Guy. The big, fat guy with the beard and the red suit. He only comes once a year, as they very well know, so, this visit was very important in their young minds. I'm sure each child wondered if they had been naughty or nice the past year. HE knew. As we learn, naughty does not get presents from Santa, only nice. From my untrained parental eye I would put these kids who were in front of me in the ''nice'' column. They sure had a lot of energy and smiles. The only truly great line for a person to wait in is for Santa Claus. I got in line..... Perhaps, because of the recent horrors inflicted on children, I felt the need to be in that line. It was a shopping mall. Recently, a mall was invaded by a madman who destroyed lives. And, the searing horror of an elementary school being the scene of unbelievable carnage and mayhem involving children. This time of the year is for children. There should be no sign of life flexing its cruelty on them. Innocence and sweet joy should be experienced. Not death. We are only young for a blink of an eye and every drop of that youth should be enjoyed to the fullest. Santa Claus has always been the universal sign of that sweetness and joy of life. That glorious, faraway figure in the sky who descends down to bring what he or she most desires, a present. And, wrapped in that present is the spirit of love. Every child is entitled to feel it...... I remember fondly my belief in Santa. I have golden memories of lying in bed and listening closely to the sounds of the roof on our house. There were times when I thought I heard the reindeer land. Santa must be there. Now, I was told to stay in bed all night because you were not supposed to see Santa. That part was magic. He was a phantom, a wonderful image on a childs mind. But, I must confess to falling to curiosity of seeing him in the flesh. I would sneak downstairs and try to catch him. I do not know if we left cookies and millk for him. Knowing my family, it was probably cheeseballs and pizza and gnocchi. I would tiptoe around the presents that were already laid out by my parents----- usually bumping into my brother who was doing the same thing as me---- and see if Santa had been there yet. Alas, the rascal had not shown yet. Up the stairs and back in bed I went, giving him a little more time. He had to be close!!!! The TV news showed his sleigh on the radar!!! He just had to be close!!!!....... Santa was always good to my family. But, even at my young, tender age, I was aware that other children were going without. My Mom and Dad, those angels of good heart and soul, always told us that there were kids in the world who were too poor to receive gifts. I remember watching the late, great Johnny Carson read actual letters from little kids requesting what they wanted for Christmas from Santa. Many of these letters were hilarious, but, many were small cries of pain for any gift from Santa. There was not a dry eye in the house as Carson read these sad pleas, including Johnny himself. I always wondered if Santa would give them gifts. My Mom and Dad skittered around my questions of why these children couldn't get gifts like we all did. It was very wise of Mom and Dad to do this because the truth would be very painful to learn for a child. I thank them for keeping me in blissful denial of reality. However, my parents always made sure that we had those poor kids in our thoughts and prayers. And, typical of Mom and Dad, they gave to charities and organizations who helped the poor and needy. In my childhood, my parents always stressed helping out those less fortunate. Children were front and center to receive help...... Back then, we opened gifts on Christmas morning. We could each open one gift Christmas Eve, but, that was it. Which made sense because Santa came in the middle of the night. It must have happened when I fell asleep for that short time, I would tell myself. I missed him again!!!, Somehow, Santa got in the house and quietly left our gifts and slipped back out without anyone noticing. He would have made a great CIA agent.... In time, the magic and wonder of believing in Santa goes away. Perhaps, this is the first sign for the child that the world is filled with disappointment. That realization that Santa is not real. I was told the full story at whatever age, that Santa was Mom and Dad after all. Somehow, that eased my disappointment because what I did was replace one fictional hero with two very real and more important heroes.....What we have experienced recently with the shooting of children shocked us all to the core of our beings. The senseless and tragic loss of life, all life. The rest of the year is filled with death and bleakness, somehow, someone dying around Christmas seems obscene. Especially, a child. This time of the year is for them. Little kids should be with their friend Santa and not going to funerals and memorial services. The only innocent time in life is when you are a child. There is that wonderful bubble that a child should live in. You are protected, or, you should be. Santa is your reward for being in that bubble..... I'd like to think that a small part of my soul still believes in Santa Clause. The optimist in me, who brushes off the madness that the world can so often bring forth, still holds dear that this far away knight in shining red suit, will grant us our fondest wishes. He will always have us in that protective bubble of youth and fairy tales. Santa Claus, the figure, of course, was not real. Santa Clause, the symbol, will never die in my heart..... The line at the mall moved fairly quickly. Soon, kids were jumping on the lap of Santa's helper and telling him what they wanted for Christmas. Dolls. Trains. A bike. A horse!!!! And, some poorly dressed kids just wanted any gift to open. The spirit of the season was very real that day I went. No death. No shootings. No prejudice or hate. Just the feeling of life. That spirit that flows through all of us everyday. When my time came, obviously, I did not sit on Santa's helper's lap. There were a few jokes exchanged among the adults around us. Humor is one of God's finest creations. Finally, Santa asked me what I wanted for Christmas. The answer, especially now, was simple...... ''Peace On Earth. Goodwill Towards Man''.......

My Sister Lisa

We were sitting on the couch as the sad people slowly filed by. You know, that terrible last walk by the casket before you say goodbye to a loved one. It is the final procession for the morners before the casket is closed. My sister and I sat there for our Mom. The line was long with much crying, both Lisa and myself, and the people who had loved our mother. As we shared our tears for the woman who gave both of us life, Lisa turned to me, and, with much love, said, ''Its just you and me, now''.... My sister Lisa was born on October 1, 1956. She was the first child for my parents after trying to conceive for a few frustrating years. There was some concern that my Mom could not have children. So, when little Lisa brightened the world on this great day, a little miracle arrived in my family. Pictures and family video from that time show a beautiful little girl with a twinkle in her eyes and a zest for life. She has never grown out of that look. Now, if you were ever to view our family video [ of which, my brother is in some, and, I, in a blink of an eye ] my sister sure exhibited the flair for the camera. Cut the bullshit: she was a show-off!! She seemed to be the center of any event, always smiling and dancing. Lisa was always close to my Mom's side of the family and there were sure tons of kids to play with on that side. The video shows them all clowning and romping around for any willing audience. There is no sound, but, had there have been, you would have heard the sound of laughter and love. That has always been front and center in my family. We always had a good time with each other. And, in the company of my sister, the fun times were multiplied by her energy and sweet goodness. It is still the same with her today..... A girl on the Scoleri side of the family is very rare. We are all males. I know my sister has always wished for a baby sister to confide in, but, she was saddled with two brothers. And, the word ''saddled'' is written with a smile on my face. Lisa has never minded sharing the family spotlight with her brothers. My brother, Tommy, arrived in 1962, and, Lisa, at the tender age of six, took to him immediately. She helped bathe him and changed his diaper and rocked him. I am no expert on children. I know from first-hand experience with my brother that the realtionship between one child and another can be tricky. Lisa escaped this label. Maybe, she was practicing for her future role as a mother. But, she had endless patience with us boys and became a welcome buffer between me and my brother when we two argued. Lisa always stood up for me and was not afraid to fight my battles. It had to hurt her deeply that her brothers could never get along, but, she never played favorites. Lisa developed the family gene of always fighting and rooting for the underdog...... She loved ''The Mickey Mouse Club'' as a little girl. My parents would always tell me how she would always sing the closing song to the show every day. You may know it. Spelling out the words to Mickey Mouse. '' M-I-C-K-E-Y-M-O-U-S-E''. [ I hear you singing them softly to yourself ] Lisa would sit in front of the TV everyday singing her little heart out to her mouse friend. In a sweet, little girl's voice sent from Heaven. It must be said that Lisa has the only good singing voice in the family. I like to think that somehow, Mickey and The Mouseketeers heard her...... As a teenager, Lisa became a little rebellious. Not a problem--- she never has been---, but, she smoked a little and ditched class some. Actually, it was only gym class when she had to do bowling. Yeah, bowling. Somehow, this sport brought forth a problem. My parents were informed and she was punished. She was the first-born and received all the attention of a first-born, but, she also took the brunt of family punishment. One of the benefits of being born third is that your parents have been trained by your older siblings. Lisa took the hits for me and had to deal with curfew and getting a job and cleaning the house. Oh, I hear about it often, and, I tease her about it. I'm sure Lisa looks at this period as a learning experience. She has always been smart, a lot smarter than she realizes..... Her teeneage and early adult years remain a bit cloudy to me. She graduated from the famous Forest View High School and went to Community College. I really do not know what she wanted to do in life beyond always wanting to be a mother. Whatever career path she could have chosen would have been successful for her. She is smart and industrious. Motherhood, however, always called from her heart. She thought her first love might be the future father of her children. His name was Joe. From what Lisa told me, Joe was the man for her. First love is like that. All consuming and emotional. I was little back then, so, I do not really remember this relationship, but, I know she fell hard for him. And, he was in love with her. He also had the untamed lust of a young man. His attentions and feelings for Lisa, however strong, also found other women. In time, Lisa, as much as it hurt her soul, realized that they must part for life. It was something Lisa never got over. Love found her again, but, never like the love she felt for Joe..... Lisa married in 1980, after being courted and loved by a great guy named John. They were together for a few years before they became husband and wife. John became like a brother to me and fit easily into our family. In 1984, they blessed our family with their first born son, Johnny. A little golden-haired angel from above. Lisa, as a Mom, was as successful as anything she has ever attempted. More so. She gave our own Mom a run for the Best Mom In The World. Lisa fretted over Johnny and worried about his every move. She handled out the discipline when necessary, but, that was not very often because Johnny was a model child. Lisa has always loved children, as most women do, but--- and, this is not always universal with women--- she loved all children. She is as warm and gentle with a strangers child as she is with her own. The innate goodness that flows through her system sparkles mostly with kids. And, in 1989, she and John blessed the family again with the arrival of son number two, Joey. This boy is all Scoleri, while Johnny was a lot like his father. Joey was a moody child. Christ, he was a miserable son of a bitch!! Joey did not like to be held by anyone except Lisa. Joey sensed, at that precious age, how wonderful his Mom's embrace was..... Events unfolded as the years sped by. The horror of the 90's, when sickness and tragedy and death overtook our family. Lisa did handle it well, but, she took our family vanishing before our very eyes as hard as I did. I was on the front lines because she had her own little family to take care of. Lisa always came through when my parents and myself needed her. A simple phone call always brought her running. Plus, she had an added burden to deal with, unbeknownst to me and everyone else: she was dealing with a long-term marriage that was slowly ending..... This shocked what remained of my family. I know it did me. Lisa told me about her marriage ending in 2004. By that time our parents and brother were gone. Ironically, around this time, I also was ending a long-term relationship. There we were, two victims of love, sitting in her living room, crying on each other's shoulders. Lisa had more heartbreak than me because we were talking about her marriage that had ended after almost twenty-five years to someone who was [ and, still is ] a good man. The reasons for the split will reamin private here. There was pain, though. Love brings happiness when it spread its wings, but, we also know that it brings crushing sadness when it ends. From my perspective, things were amicable between her and my now former brother-in-law. Lisa got custody of the kids, who were almost men now. Johnny was twenty and Joey was fifteen. I was sad to see Big John depart the family, even though I knew it was the best for both of them. Lisa was my concern. She had never really been out on her own. Financially, John was very kind to her in the settlement. My worry, though, was when Lisa would decide to start dating. I did not want the wolves out there to prey on her. Lisa has never been the go to a bar and pick up a guy type. I just worried for my sister because I loved her and did not want her hurt. Who would be the next guy in her life became an open question.... Then, like a fairy-tale come to life, the answer came in the form of her first love, Joe. It shows you how one door closes and another one opens. Lisa was divorced for a few months when she went alone to a wedding. At this wedding, she came across someone who knew her lost love. They talked and it turns out that Joe was a free man who had never gotten over my sister. He realized what he had blown and he deeply regretted his loss of her. Lisa became intrigued. Could you go back and try again? She got Joe's number from this person and cautiously debated whether to call him where he was living in Wisconsin. Eventually, she did. Joe was thrilled to hear from her and the past came back for both of them. Whatever worry she may have felt in contacting him melted away as she felt the old stirring of true love again for him. Long story short: from that day forward, they are together  and in love. The old adage that you can't go home again proved, in this case, to be wrong. You can and she did!!!..... This is where she is right now in life. Various people have asked me when I would write a blog about my sister. I hesitated until now because Lisa is so normal. There is no juicy gossip about her. No drama or tempermental behavior. No arrests or violent, selfish episodes. She is no saint, but, she is darn close!!!!..... She is a Grandmother now. Three times. She adores this role in life and, believe me, her Grandchildren sure adore her. And, why not. She has the man of her dreams by her side, with loving and wonderful children and Grandchildren. Many friends and admirers. And, a brother who loves and looks up to her. We have always had a great relationship with each other, partly, because we do not interfere with each other's lives. I am sure she is occasionally wondering which woman I am dating and if I still howl at the moon in the wee hours.  I still am a little protective of her because, as she said at our Mom's funeral: it is just us now..... So, there, my big sister. This is your blog. It is a little taste for people to know a little about you. There is so much more to you than what I have written. My space is limited here. But, my love for you will never be.......

Little Big Man

The word dignity rarely is mentioned nowadays because it seems like very little of it is practiced by human beings. Every show seems to be about exposing whatever behavior is the most outrageous for the sake of a little notoriety. So, when someone does exhibit a touch of class they should be applauded and treasured. And, for the behavior to come from a Hollywood star, then, brother, it borders on being a small miracle.... Michael J. Fox has always been an agreeable actor. He has no special ability other to be very likable in any performance. That is acceptable. Not every actor shows the tremendous range of a Brando. We need the ''likable'' people to watch because after a long day of fighting the world we need someone to put a smile on our faces. Fox has filled that role since coming to prominance in the 80's with the ''Family Ties'' program. The show was mostly fluff, but, it was well done fluff. He was the conservative son of aging hippie parents, with two sisters who ran the gamut from wacky to sweet. The show was conceived to be about the parents, but, Fox rang the bell of teenage popularity. The show shifted its focus more towards him. It was a nice shift. It became more about the family and less about political positions, which it was in danger of becoming. For seven seasons, Fox was ''America's Son'' and first crush for many young girls. Nothing was expected from the show, or, from Michael J.Fox other than solid, wholesome entertainment. The cast did their jobs and the show is a pleasant memory from the 80's.... T.V. success led to movie success for him. ''Back To The Future'' became a tremendous hit in 1985. It was a sharp and whimsical comedy about time travel. Michael J. Fox became a movie star and throughout the late 80's and early 90's, he made a series of soft-entertainment films that played on his likable image. Off-screen, there seemed to be no dirt on this man. He worked in a notoriously backstabbing industry, where truth and reality rarely are joined together. Still, he was spared this hateful, jealous gossip. By all accounts, the decency he displayed in his ''reel'' life was no act in real life..... Around 1991, by his own reckoning, he developed a tremor in his right pinkie. At first, he dismissed it, as we all would, but, in time, the tremor persisted and he went for a physical checkup. The diagnosis was Parkinson's Disease, usually a disease that strikes older people rather than the young. While there is medicine to keep it under control, the long term affects are sobering. You slowly lose the ability to control your body. People have lived for years with this disease, but, like all diseases, it is an unwelcome intruder and monster in your body that will not leave..... Michael J. Fox kept the diagnosis private, at first, by telling only his family and close friends. His wife, Tracy Pollen [ a former co-star on ''Family Ties'' ] and his children formed his support group for his morale. The industry was blissfully unaware of his medical condition when he starred in the T.V. show, ''Spin City''. He kept America smiling while he secretly fought his illness. He did remarkably well. It wasn't until in the late 90's, when the Parkinson's got stronger, that he came before the public and told the full story. This coincided with his decision to leave his hit show. He wanted to spend more time with his family and concentrate on battling his disease. The public, shocked by his condition, rallied around him and sent best wishes from all over the world...... Now, Michael J. Fox, like Christopher Reeve before him with his paralysis, is playing the role of his life. It is a role he did not ask for. For whatever reason, he was chosen by fate to be the face of this cruel disease. This is where his class and dignity come together with his innate decency. He could have hidden behind closed doors [ which everyone would have understood ] , but, he has bravely put his body and soul on display for all to see. He wants to show the world that having Parkinson's Disease, or, any disease, for that matter, is not something to be ashamed of. He is front and center with his affliction, to be ridiculed by the cruel, and, admired by the sympathetic. I count myself in the latter group, as most people will. This brave, little man, has gone before the Big Chiefs in Congressional committees and pleaded for funding into research to cure this disease. His face is now associated with his going to war for not only his life, but, for those not rich and famous enough to be in his spot. He does not need to do this. Certainly, living at home quietly, surrounded by his family, would be easier on his suffering. But, he does not hide from the battle. When he wants his life to be normal and quiet, he lets it. When he knows he is needed for a public event, he goes and furthers his cause. He handles it all very well, but, it must wear him down tremendously. I cannot imagine the days when he struggles to make even the simplest tasks doable. He must know how his appearance makes many uncomfortable, and, how many well-meaning people feel sorry for him. I would guess he does appreciate the concern and sympathy, but, he does not want their pity. He wants to be treated normally, as all victims of illness want. While the disease is very much the elephant in the room, he handles it with aplomb and grace..... While fools parade around on T.V. in the insulting ''reality'' shows, acquiring instant and undeserved fame and fortune from the uniformed public, Michael J. Fox has shown the way an adult should behave. He wants to live, for himself and his family and friends. And, he wants others to live. He is a hero in my book. Not because he is some plastic celebrity who only cares about his own persona, but, rather, because he is a real human being facing life's biggest challenge. I wish him all the luck in the world conquering this cruel twist of fate. At the very moment I write this I hope a medical breakthrough is happening that will cure this bastard disease. I hope he lives long enough to benefit from such cure...... Michael J. Fox won some Emmy Awards playing Alex Keaton on ''Family Ties''. But, his finest work has no trophy. Just the well-deserved title of a good human being and class act......

The Stones At 50

I gotta admit it. I never thought they would last this long. Not their music, certainly, which is the spine of rock and roll, but, rather their bodies. The abuse that they have inflicted on their central nervous systems would have killed many a community. They are survivors, however. The best example of the outlaw spirit of the music that flows through their systems. Unclean, unruly, unhinged---- they are also unchallenged in the arena of music. They are The Rolling Stones and they are a half-century old... The Bad Boys Of Rock. You know them. They seem indestructible. Well, maybe they are. Even a quick viewing by an outsider leaves a person staggered. How indeed have they managed to live so long and so raw and with such a vengeance, and, still keep walking among us? There are many jokes about their age and looks. Pretty, they never were. There have been many glamour boys in music, but, the Stones always defied this label. They had swagger and a menacing sneer. If you look at the definition of what rock and roll should be--- music your parents hated and society railed against because of its sexual innuendo--- then they are the poster boys of Bad..... Mick Jagger never had a great voice. Artists from Sinatra to Sting could sing him off any stage without effort. But, Mick never pretended to sing well. He is all showman, with his bizarre version of dancing and prancing for his audience. Part of his act is just that: it is an act. There is a smile on his face along with a wink towards the audience. He seems to be saying, '' Look, both you and I know that more talented people should be up here singing for you, but, I won the lottery in luck, so, here I am!!''. And, that is the heart of who he is. A charming con man who belts out the music. A tremendous salesman. Now, to just dismiss him with just that description would be a disservice to him. He is so much more. He is the last of the great stage performers from the mid- 20th Century. Frank is gone, along with Elvis, James Brown, Hendrix, and, Morrison. Jagger is the sole carrier of the bad-ass banner. Yeah, you may laugh at his moves, but, just try to take your eyes off of him. With his average voice [ not much range, but, a perfect blend with the music engulfing him ] he may be rock's finest hustler...... His fellow ''Glimmer Twin'', Keith Richards, just keeps getting stronger. The man of a thousand riffs. A damn fine, if anything, underrated musician, who could play with any band in the world, be it jazz to classical. He is also the best example in human history of a walking corpse. I read his autobiography a few years back, and, GOOD GOD, MAN!!! It is astonishing that he can do anything. A longtime heroin junkie and abuser of every drug in Schedule A, Keith just continues to defy genetics. Keith has kissed The Dark Side so many times that whenever we hear about his lastest escapade, we shake our heads in a certain wonder of how he has survived to now. I think Death fears him.... And, now the music. The hallmark of The Rolling Stones. They burst onto the scene in America in 1964, along with other bands in the British Invasion. At first, they had a tough going. They were advertised as the ''Anti-Beatles''. If the Fab Four were cute and beloved, the Stones were the rough boys that you warned your daughter to stay away from. They played up the image with a vengeance. Misbehavior went into their public lives, but, also, most crucially, seeped into the music. They started out idolizing American blues music [ the band name comes from a Muddy Waters song ]. The first albums and singles showed that influence. Every artist starts out a career like this. You take what you have always loved and inspired you, blend it with your life experiences, and, then you create your own work and sound from the results. It wasn't until 1965 when the Stones came into the sound from which we love them for. ['' I Can't Get No] Satisfaction'' blasted away on the radio and the public's consciousness. The song's creation came when Keith Richards woke up one night with the riff in his mind. Now, Keith sleeping is hard to comprehend, but, he grabbed his guitar by his bed and committed the riff on a tape recorder he had by his bed. Then, he went back to sleep. When he awoke the next day, he said he heard a few minutes of his riff playing on the tape followed by 45 minutes of snoring. Taking the song into the studio, he and Mick added words, and, the other boys in the band, Charlie Watts, Bill Wyman, and, the doomed Brian Jones, pounded out what has been called rock's anthem and the greatest rock song ever. I will leave that up to you to decide if you think so, but, what can't be denied is that the song perfectly expressed what rock and roll should be. Defiant. Sexual. Outlaw behavior. It became their signature song and took them to where they are today.... More great singles followed in ''Satisfactions's'' wake: ''Lets Spend The Night Together'', '' 19 Nervous Breakdown'', '' Mother's Little Helper'', ''Under My Thumb'', and, the brilliant ''Paint It Black''. Strangely, though, these strong singles were hand in hand with weak albums. The albums seemed to be mostly filler music-- occasionally, a good song or two would be on one of these albums, like ''Dandolion'' and ''The Last Time''--- but, the Stones were still tuning up to make their first great body of work. That finally came in 1968 with ''Beggars Banquet''. The songs on this disc became classics. ''Sympathy For The Devil'', ''Street Fighting Man'', and the wonderful bar sing-along-song, ''Salt Of The Earth.''. The consensus from both the public and the music industry was with this recording the Stones were going long distance.... The following year, 1969, the Stones lost Brian Jones, who actually was the founder and leader of the group in the early days, to a mysterious death in his swimming pool.  Rumors have remained strong all of these years that Jones was murdered when he was found drowned. The Stones had fired him months earlier because of his drug addiction and erratic behavior. His place in the band was taken by Mick Taylor, and, it was with Taylor that the band reached its greatest creative heights. Starting with ''Let It Bleed'' [ which has my favorite Stones song, ''Gimme Shelter''] to ''Sticky Fingers'' to ''Exile On Main Street'', the Stones forever cemented a place in history. The songs during this era: ''Brown Sugar'', ''You Can't Always Get What You Want'', ''Wild Horses'', ''Honkytonk Woman'', rival any creative period from any artist in any time..... The dawn of the 70's started dark for the Stones. In December 1969, they played the famous Altamont concert, where one person was stabbed to death right in front of the boys as they were playing. The controversary dogged the band for years, but, it was unfair. No performer from the stage can control what is going on in any show, neither can the security. However, in time, the uproar subsided and they gained a fresh steam in their strides. The stage shows grew in complexity and originality. Mostly, they brought sex on stage with them. Many shows, Mick rode a giant penis on stage. They also fell in love with women's makeup. It was the glitter period for rock, and the Stones adopted the influence of the bizarre. Free love, which they practiced with such gusto in the Swinging Sixties, became all-obsessive for the boys. Mick went from Bianca to Jerry Hall, with stops along the way to dally with Linda Ronstadt and Carly Simon [ which was ideal, since they both look alike]. Keith continued his reckless dance with the Devil, using and abusing every drug to get him through life. But, by the mid-70's, their all important music seemed to take a dip in quality. Mick Taylor had enough of the craziness and left, to be replaced by Ronnie Wood. Charlie and Bill, the most normal of the Stones, became second-class citizens in the band. The friendship of Mick and Keith, which stretched back to childhood, began to unwind in arguments and musical disagreements. Every once in a while, an album would emerge, but, it was hardly vintage Rolling Stones. Many wondered if the band was done..... But, never count them out. They are survivors , remember, and, survivors find a way out of the abyss. In 1978, came the album, ''Some Girls'', which begat the hits, ''Miss You'', and ''Shattered''. While neither the album nor the singles could compare to their best work, it did seem to rejuvenate the band and give them the jumpstart they needed. Sales leaped, as did their popularity. They were now the elder statesmen of rock and roll. Most inportantly, Keith overcame an almost decade long addiction of heroin-- but, first, in typical Keith fashion, the cops busted him for possession of the drug. He was off smack, but, our Keith still drank like a fish and snorted the substances of life. Mick ''settled down'' with Jerry Hall. However, a stable relationship never interfered with Mick's bachelor fun. He was still a dandy with the ladies and haunted Studio 54 looking for some action. As they approached middle age, they were tamed a little, but, the fire of rebellion still burned in them.... The 80's started strong with them with the albums, ''Emotional Rescue'', and ''Tattoo You'' [ featuring another anthem for them, ''Start Me Up'']. The world tours became even bigger and wilder. They were now anointed legends in the rock world. They also still burned the midnight oil with a frequency which left many younger followers dead in the street. The only thing that brought them down was internal discord, primary between Mick and Keith. It got to a point that these two would not speak to each other unless necessary. It was inevitable that they would split, and, they did in 1986, after the release of ''Dirty Work'', perhaps their worst work as a unit. Mick and Keith traded insults in the press, as all good partners do. What brought them all back together was their 1989 induction into ''The Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame''. The wounds healed and they started working on a new record, ''Steel Wheels'' and the follow-up tour. Both the tour and album were rousing successes and the Stones stormed through the 90's as a great example of a golden oldies act. The concerts now were where they played to their fans memories and good times. This happens to every artist if they are fortunate enough to last. No longer do they take the creative risks. They play it safe and easy. In a way the Stones, of all artists, sold out by playing to their audiences expectations of them. This can be forgiven, though. Like McCartney, Elton, Springsteen, and The Eagles, they have earned the right to play whatever they damn well want to.... So, now, they are fifty. It is still astounding to me that they are still going strong. I have never seen them in concert. I would like to and I am sure I will try to get tickets if they tour next year. A friend of mine, Pete, shelled out some big money to go see them in Jersey this month. If I ever do see them live, I will, of course, love the music they play. I will also go to see them moving and breathing..... Congratulations, men!!! You certainly have earned your stripes!!!!!

Classic Movie: ''One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest"

He is brought in from the outside world in a car. We have seen the car in the opening shot silhouetted against a lonely early morning sky. When McMurphy emerges from the vehicle to enter the sanitorium, we see that he is being played by Jack Nicholson. Any character played by Jack immediately makes the moviegoer sit up and take notice. With his portrayal of Randall Patrick McMurphy, he cemented not only his hold on the public's long-term love affair with him, but, also created one of cinema's most legendary roles.... ''One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest'' is one of the finest films ever made in Hollywood. Every film lover has seen it. Or, should see it immediately. The story is well known. A free-spirited misfit named McMurphy cons his way out of some prison time and has himself sent to a mental institution to work off his sentence. Once there, he comes across the patients who are under the cruel dominance of the head nurse, Nurse Ratched, played superbly by Louise Fletcher. At first, McMurphy observes her influence over them. They are terrified of her--- especially, a young man with a deep stutter named Billy Bibbit, played by Brad Dourif. As he quickly gets to know them, McMurphy makes it his mission to bring some life to these lost souls. That sets up the battle of the movie between the establishment authority of Nurse Ratched and the anti- establishment freedom represented by McMurphy. The movie moves back and forth between comedy and drama. The ending--- which I will not spoil for those who have never seen it [ And, shame on you for never seeing this movie ]--- is one of the best endings in movie history. It combines the sadness of life with the exhilarating joy of new-found freedom of life.... Like all great movies, ''One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest'' rewards the viewer every time you see it. You know what is coming, but, the joy of recognition is what washes over you. Take for instance, the boat trip that McMurphy hijacks the inmates on. There should be a smile on the face of the watcher because by this time in the movie we have embraced the characters so well. We feel sorry for them and this scene raises our hopes that this unscheduled excursion will awaken them further from their self-imprisonment. McMurphy leads them on the boat [ which, of course, he has stolen for them ] and sets sail out to the open ocean. These men have never been on a boat before, let alone experience the vastness of the ocean. They are scared, to be sure, but, also slowly comes a feeling of joy when they realize it is ok to let loose and have some fun. My favorite moment in the scene is when a simple, pudgy man named Cheswick, played by Sydney Lassick, steers the boat by himself. At first, he does not want to do it, but, McMurphy, his mentor, wants him to. After getting comfortable driving the boat, this childlike man sings softly to himself, ''I'm Popeye the Sailor Man''. It is a sweet and tearful moment because, for an instant, Cheswick has reverted to his childhood. He feels safe singing this song for no one to hear him. Unlike any therapy he was forced to receive at the institution, he has broken through and found comfort in his environment. The rest of his mates on the boat also experience joy. They learn to fish and how to bait a hook. While McMurphy takes pleasure with his girlfriend he has brought aboard, the other men stumble upon a big fish to haul in. Sure, this moment is somewhat false and contrived, but, it works splendidly in the movie. While McMurphy tries to help them haul it in the boat careens out of control. It is a wonderful madness that these men find themselves in. By the end of the scene, after they have been caught by the authorities, the boat pulls ashore. From the dock, the hospital officials see the inmates holding a big fish. They also see the patients laughing. And, probably for the first time in their lives, they are proud of themselves. And, we, the viewer, are also proud of them.... McMurphy brings more of life to them as the movie moves forward. He wants to watch the World Series, but, runs into the stone wall that is Nurse Ratched.She rigs a group vote in her favor by saying all of the patients should vote on the ward, even though, most of the other patients have no sense of reality. After angrily exchanging words with her, McMurphy has a genius idea: he invents the World Series in his mind. He gives the commentary to the other inmates on the imaginary game, and, in doing so, brings out the fan in all of them. Soon, they are loudly cheering for a non-existant game. Now, this scene, so well-played by Nicholson, is meant to be comic. And, it is. Another, less experienced director would have used the patients reactions as a way of making fun of them, but, ''Cuckoo's Nest''' director, the brilliant Milos Forman, uses it to further bond our relationship with these trapped men. He shows the laughs, yes, but, there is also a touching charm to the scene. These men so desperately want to be normal that they go along with any idea. It can be destructive, as Nurse Ratched is with them, but, it can also be sweet and funny in the care of McMurphy. McMurphy is not trying to con them or control them. Just the opposite, he cares about them and wants to make them happy. Nurse Ratched won't allow them to have real fun, so, McMurphy creates the fun for the men.... There are other wonderful moments in this wonderful movie. The basketball game with the Chief. McMurphy throwing a goodbye party, complete with booze, music, and girls.And, the shocking scene of shock therapy. Beneath the comic moments lies the tragedy of mental illness. These men have been torn apart by everyday life, for reasons never really gone into. The exception is the backstory involving Billy Bibbit. Billy clearly hates his mother [ who is the best friend of Nurse Ratched ] and the genesis of his stutter comes from his fear of his mother. Billy comes to idolize McMurphy. But, so do the other patients. His influence spreads consciously and unconsciously over them. Suddenly, they challenge Nurse Ratched in group therapy, something inconceivable only a short time earlier. They question why things are run the way they are and why they have to conform. This is the heart of the power of the movie. McMurphy has proven to be good for them and they respond. McMurphy is not show-boating or trying to control them, and they respond. He wants them to stand up for themselves. The open defiance of authority is as liberating for the audience as it is for the patients. Nurse Ratched is doing her job on one hand, but, she also abuses her power in a sadistic way. As the inmates rebel, she realizes that she is getting weaker and losing them. And, she blames McMurphy..... The final showdown between Nurse Ratched and McMurphy, over the fate of Billy Bibbit, may be the most powerful scene in the movie. Not the most powerful acted scene [ that scene is the late night talk between Chief Bromden and McMurphy ], but, the most powerful emotionally charged scene. What has preceded it is the opening up of Bibbit's character to become a full human being for the first time in his life. Again, I do not want to spoil the key plot points too much, but, when McMurphy does react against Ratched the audience reaction is extraordinary. Audiences throughout the world cheered this moment. This is a violent moment, yet, the audience is firmly behind the idea of violence. Taking a step back from the film, if you were a real life observer of this moment, would you react the way the other patients do? Is a violent response against a cruel woman justified? She is not evil, in the sense of a mass murderer is evil, but, she is a mind controller for the most vulnerable of men. When you see the scene, are you on the same  wavelength as McMurphy? After the buildup throughout the movie to this pay-off scene I have to say that I might have done what McMurphy did also. His hands could have been mine.....The final moments of this movie remain my favorite part. It is sad, but, the freedom that the Chief decides for himself elevate the spirit. There is no better ending for this movie than the sink through the window. The music swells up, along with the shots of the awakened patients. Taber reacts first, followed by the quiet looks of the others. Taber, played by Christopher Lloyd, starts whooping and hollering in joy. Something tells me that McMurphy was applauding too.... ''One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest'' remains firmly in my top five movies that I love. It won a slew of Oscars and has been rightfully called a classic. It seems to be on most lists of best movies. I really do not put much stock on those types of lists because it all comes down to one person's opinion. If you have never seen it then treat yourself to fine, quality moviemaking, a nice break from ''reality'' shows of stereotypical behavior and constant bleeping of swearing. McMurphy liberates the spirit and the souls of those in the asylum. He will also liberate the viewer.... Its medication time.....

Fools Rush In

Well, we have some relief, for a little while anyway. The relentless assault on all of us for the last few years is slowly going away. It will rear its ugly head again in a short time. 2016 is only four years away, but, for a politician, it is as close as Christmas is to us. For now, all of the mudslinging and innuendo, the lies and distortions, can be put away for some time. We can catch our breath, and, step back to evaluate what we went through and its results. This is the wreckage of another Presidential campaign..... I can't help but feel unclean after this election. Not because of the outcome. My protest vote was for my Dad. I could not think of a strong reason to vote for Obama or Romney. I know Facebook is a loose way to judge the public and its tastes, but, all I saw for the past year is intense hatred of one candidate, while the candidate of their choice is greeted with lukewarm support. In short, it was '' please, just don't vote for [ add name of candidate here ] and you will really like my guy. Really.''.... Ask yourself this, all of you ''supporters'' of either Obama or Romney: did you really have a passion for your candidate? Most responses, I believe, would be a no. It seemed to be another election of voting for the lesser of two evils instead of a quality person for office. This is where my depression and disgust come into play. This was our choice!!! These two!!! What the fuck is that??? The greatest country in the history of the world, with all of our goodness and hard work, brings forth this dreck? What happened to us???....... Now, I know how the game is played. Candidates are chosen in smoke-filled rooms, by the movers and shakers and all-powerful hustlers that make up a political party or special interest group. We really have no say in this. Unions, oil companies, Hollywood power brokers, religious fanatics, etc, all gather together and give us our choices. Those of us who trudge through life going to work--- if, you are lucky to have a job these days--- which is most of us, are shut out of deciding who will guide us. It has been this way since the world was young. Somehow, it seems to get more blatant and harmful with every election. The standard line being if we do not like who is currently in office, vote them out. Well, I tried, as you know doubt have also. And, where did it get us? Mitt and Barack. Or, Mutt and Jeff.... In the past I have always looked at a protest vote as a waste of a vote. Not anymore. I understand now. As I get older, and, see how people really are, there is no good vote. Only an acceptable vote. I cannot fathom how a person can give his or her allegiance to one of these parties every election. Not with the way that each party has been polluted with zealots. Each party is too extreme and insidious. My family and friends have always been blue-collar. Financially and mentally, we were given this station in life. And, we wear it proudly. So, which party benefits me and my loved ones in life? Lets take a look.... Take the Republican Party. My Dad was a free-thinking Republican. He believed, as I did, that the agenda for this party suited his own personal beliefs. It was for small government, a military for protection of our homeland, good education, and, taking care of those that are down and out until they can get on their feet again. This was the old Republican Party, pre-Reagan. Now, this once proud party is more and more isolated from mainstream America. They are completely run by the dangerous far-right. The NRA, religious messiahs, the hatred of minorities, the aged, women, that is the Republicans in 2012. Long gone are the days when the GOP just left themselves out of a private citizens life. Now, they tell women what to do with their bodies in terms of a pregnancy. Now, they wrap themselves in the message of God and soil what God really stands for. Big business dictates over common sense issues like better air and global warming. And, their love and protection of the rich is so blatant that they actually have convinced themselves that rich people are suffering like poor people. Lobbyists, those dangerous, evil people who are in bed with both parties, run the show, along with Wall Street and Madison Avenue. My Dad, in his final years, saw where his old party was going and voted Democratic. As always, Dad was one step ahead of the world..... But, the Democratic Party that my father voted for was deeply flawed, as well. He knew that, but, still gave hope that wiser people would save it. They didn't. If possible, the Democrats are even more dangerous than the Republicans. If the Democrats have a counterpart to the oil industry, then it is the unions. Unions and the increasing intrusive Hollywood pipeline. Unions have always put the arm on its memebers on whom to vote for. If a certain region of the country does not hold up its end on election day, then the unions have been known to squeeze that region dry as punishment. Ask a Teamster. I know several, and, they look over their shoulder come election time. And, Hollywood. Dear, Hollywood. At least, we can always count on show business people to give us a chuckle. Hollywood is very liberal. Every election, we see Clooney and Springsteen and Bon Jovi, or, some other out of touch with everyday life celebrity, coming down from their personal mountain to tell us about life and how we should vote. The fact that these people can barely tie their shoes properly without a personal assistant seems to be of no thought to them when they talk about the real world. The core of the Democratic Party has also shifted, but, to the far-left. The push for an entitlement society, open borders, mass government spending, and, deficits are their M.O. Environmental lobbyists, while on the correct side of the issue, ironically, have thrown their own pollution of influence into the party. Now, all of us want to breath without the air killing us, but, the Environmental lobbyists have so entwined itself with companies that milk the problem, that even a good, noble cause is lost in the fog of corruption and influence peddling. Finally, there is the theory of taxation. Sure, the rich should pay more, but, not at the expense of crippling their well-earned work. After all, isn't the goal of all of us to make more money? Honest reward for honest work? To penalize someone for doing well is not the American way. I am not defending the rich, just their right to be rich.... The best example that I can think of in this calamity that is our election process is the reelection of Jesse Jackson Jr. We all know what vipors his family are, led by the racial divider and shakedown artist, Jesse Sr. Jesse the elder, long has been out for himself and not for helping anyone else. He has taught these skills well to his sons. Jesse Jr, a longtime con-artist in the best tradition of his family, recently became mysteriously ill when investigators began getting closer to his dealings with our ex-Governor, Rod Blagolovich. He has been hiding out at the Mayo Clinic with depression. Apparently, life is no longer a cakewalk for this dastardly heir to a scumbag family. Rather than answer questions that may cost him eventual jail time, the Jesser is playing possum with authorities and is resting quietly [ and , comfortably ] in Minnesota. Being an Illinois Representative, you would think he could have the decency to find a rehab place to go to in this state. Anyway, with all these pressing questions surrounding his dealings and character, what does his constituency do? Well, they REELECT HIM!!! In a LANDSLIDE!!! Incredible. The party machine guided him to another victory, without him having to lift a finger or spend a dime. This is the definitive example of political chicanery, and, the public's apathy towards both parties and all politicians..... So, what do we do? The simple answer is nothing. We are caught in the web that they all spin. I do not ever want to hear again from a party supporter about how good their party is and how obscene the other party is. They all swim in the same cesspool of corruption and greed. The generations before us have allowed this to happen, along with most of our most pressing problems in the world. The inmates have long run the asylum in politics, and we have reached the point of no return. Sorry to sound the trumpet of doom. Both parties are dead, which is why we get an Obama and a Romney. Maybe, a third party will be the answer. History has shown us, though, that a third party will also be swallowed up by the vices that afflict Democrats and Republicans. No one looks out for our best interests. Enjoy your Obama victory. It doesn't mean a damn thing anymore... I love the old show ''The Twilight Zone''. One of its most famous episodes concerns a community dealing with a rumored alien invasion. It starts as a thought, spreads quickly to a rumor, then it turns into paranoia and fear. Soon, the neighbors are fighting with each other, and, a murder happens. The episode ends with an overhead shot of the actual aliens observing the neighborhood imploding in chaos. The two aliens talk. One says, ''See how it is done? We just turn off a few lights and they start fighting amongst themselves. It happens everywhere we go.'' The episode ends with the aliens getting back into their spaceshift to visit another neighborhood. The message of the story is simple: with rumors, we plant fear. With fear comes desperation and rage and estrangement. And, with all of those volatile human feelings in the melting pot, we start to devour each other... Sounds a lot like what we experience in any election nowadays......

Football By The Lake

The background and the foreground blend nicely, with the sky a clear chaser. In the background is the lake. A nice, calm oasis. In the foreground, you have the game. High school boys mixing it up with the energy of the young. The sounds all mesh together: grunts, exclamations of exertion, the pounding of helmets and equipment. And, the field. No turf, just old-fashioned dirt and grass that becomes a muddy mess when the rain shows up. High school football in Glen Ellyn. I love it.... I work the football games in the fall at the school I am at, Glenbard West. The work is relatively easy. My job consists of taking care of the officials before and after the game. Getting them paid and schmoozing with them. Also, when a spare locker room needs to be used by the visiting team, I am Johnny-On-The-Spot with my magic keys. The pay is not bad. So, I get to watch a game of football and go home with some extra green in my pocket. Put me in, coach, I will gladly work... There is a love of fall that I have that I have written about recently. The sweet smell of a new school year, and, new dreams and possibilities. My favorite time. Fall also coincides with my love of football. I love the pros, tolerate the college ranks, but, within the last few years I have become a fierce supporter of high school football. Now, it helps that the school I work at has a helluva good football team and program. And, I have a passing friendship with many of the coaches. One coach, Mike Hofland, has become one of my closest friends in the last few years. So, I am cheerfully biased for the school, its players, and, the men that guide the program. You cannot root for any team without a loyalty, I believe.... Many players I know through everyday school. They are good kids. I admire the enthusiasm that comes with playing as an army. When one scores a touchdown, or, amkes a great defensive stop, I pound the air with my fist like any proud parent does from the stands. It is enjoyable seeing students at events like this. I am not the ''Mr. Scoleri'' during the week that they know, but, rather, I am the Jim Scoleri that is joking and talking sports with them. It is a nice trade-off. They see a little of the real me, and, I see the fun them. A little reality to bond with them. It is the most rewarding part of a Saturday football game for me... We play Saturdays when we are home. We do not have lights or artificial turf. I work at an old school, opened in 1923. It is a beautiful looking, historic school. It rests on a hill [ which is why we are called the ''Hilltoppers'' ]. The school presides over a community like a mother hen. A short walk into town will reward the walker with signs and tee-shirts proclaiming strong support for ''West''. There is constant talk in restaurants and businesses about what the team is doing and who is our next opponant will be. The talk is fun, as sports talk should be. There is pride in the community over all of the sports at West. But, football, as it does all over this state, stands out a little more with the passion of the fans... We are good. Very Good. I say that without any ego on my part as a champion of the football team. We are in the second round of the playoffs now, as I write this. We are ranked first in the state for the second week in the row by the Chicago Sun-Times. We have been around the top of the rankings for many a year. That is because the coaches and the players merge as one with the program. These people know what they are doing. For me to explain their success, with my unschooled mind, would be an exercise in the absurd. That is where my place as a fan comes into play. I watch from the sidelines--- literally--- while others do their jobs. The analysis comes from others. I just bring the passion, and the fun of the spectator.... I wish I had gone to more games as a teenager myself when I went to high school. My school, Forest View, at least when I was there, was very poor in football. Our basketball team was good [ which featured a stud scorer and superb player named Tom Scoleri on it ] , but, football was pretty much a joke. My friends and I went, not often, to make an appearance, and, then to find out where everyone was going after the game. It was a pit-stop never to be taken seriously. I regret that lost oppurtunity to bond more with my school. When it shut down a few years after I graduated I didn't bat an eye. Now, I wish it was still going. It would be nice to keep an eye on my alma mater. I believe that is a big reason why I embrace the sports at West so strongly. Familiar faces on the teams, certainly, but, also, I am somehow reconnecting with my long-ago school and the memories of games that never were..... I really do not want to write too much about the playoffs because of the fear I may jinx them. The first rule in any poker game is to never show your cards. I think that applies to sports also. I will say that we all have high hopes of going to state in a few weeks. A couple of years ago, we went all the way to state and played our arch-rivals, Wheaton-Warrenville, in a most exciting showdown. I went downstate in the fan bus and had a great time!  We lost in, I believe, in triple overtime [ on a referee screw-up , if I may be say so ]. It hurt me as a fan, but, I hurt for the players and coaches. They deserved to win. So, we have that goal in mind to go back and finish some unfinished business. Our opposition in the next few weeks would be determined, obviously, on who wins. As for this week, we play Libertyville, at their home. Certainly, it will be tough, but, my heart is with our guys to bring a victory back to Glen Ellyn. And, after that, who knows. The most important part is that the kids are having the time of their lives.... So, as we say at the school, ''GO HILLTOPPERS!!!!!''''

Eyeball To Eyeball

The words say it all. They are chilling to the bone.... ''Good evening, my fellow citizens. This government, as promised, has maintaned the closest surveillance of the Soviet military build-up on the island of Cuba. Within the past week unmistakable evidence has established the fact that a series of offensive missile sites is now in preparation on that imprisoned island. The purposes of these bases can be none other than to provide a nuclear strike capability against the Western Hemisphere. Upon receiving the first preliminary hard information of this nature last Tuesday morning [ October 16 ] at 9:00 am, I directed that our surveillance be stepped up. And having now confirmed and completed our evaluation of the evidence and our decision on a course of action, this government feels obliged to report this new crises to you in fullest detail... Each of these missiles, in short, is capable of striking Washington, D.C., the Panama Canal, Cape Canaveral, Mexico City, or any other city in the southeastern part of the United States, in Central America, or, in the Caribbean area.... Acting, therefore, in the defense of our own security and the entire Western Hemisphere, and under the authority entrusted in me by the Constitution as endorsed by the resolution of the Congress, I have directed that following initial steps be taken immediately.... To halt this offensive build-up, a strict quarantine on all offensive military equipment under shipment to Cuba is being initiated. All ships of any kind bound for Cuba from whatever nation or port will, if found to contain cargoes of offensive weapons, be turned back... Our goal is not the victory of might but the vindication of right-- not peace at the expense of freedom, but, both peace and freedom, here in this hemisphere, and, we hope, around the world. God willing, that goal will be achieved''.... President John F Kennedy, October 22, 1962.... And, the world came close to being destroyed for close to a week. It is the 50th anniversary of this terrible scare. We have had many crisis in our history--- of course, 9/11 being the most recent--- but, none can compare to these thirteen days in October, 1962. The United States and the Soviet Union met in a showdown over these missiles in Cuba... As Kennedy stated, he first became aware of the installation of the missiles on the 16th of October. The CIA, in their daily U2 spy flights over Cuba, had discovered the missiles. With pictorial evidence, one of JFK's men, McGeorge Bundy, brought the matter to the attention of the President. He immediately called a meeting of his National Security Council to discuss this very serious threat. At the meeting, the ''Best and the Brightest'', as they were called, alternated between shock and horror about what the Russians had done. The implied threat to us and our safety could not be denied. Something had to be done to remove the missiles. The most obvious was military intervention. We had been flirting with invading this island, just 90 miles away from Florida, ever since Castro came to powere in 1959. The CIA led ''Bay Of Pigs'' in 1961 [ where we trained and armed Cuban rebels to overthrow the Cuban government ] had been a terrible failure. That invasion, sans military support by the U.S., died on the beaches soon after they landed. The rebels were captured and tortured and many were killed. The bitter aftertaste-- along with both sides bracing for more bloodshed--- were on the forefront of the Russians when they installed the missiles, starting in August, 1962. By October, the missiles were nearly ready...... At the meeting with the Kennedy team, the military spoke the loudest. Led by General Curtis LeMay, the brass hats demanded immediate and bloody action. They wanted an invasion of the whole island. While this was on the minds of many of the men at the table, the military, as it often does, played the macho card. The losses of human life--both Cuban and American-- were of no concern to them. They wanted action. John Kennedy wisely demurred. He wanted to know from LeMay what the Russians would do if we invaded. Surely, they would not sit quietly by and let us take Castro out. This was no concern for the military, for they thought the losses would be inconsequential. Kennedy and his team, rightly appalled by the cavalier atittude of LeMay, declared that military intervention would be the last resort if all else failed. LeMay and his team were angry. He told Kennedy that it would be a terrible mistake to wait. His exact words were, ''You're in a tough mix, Mr. President''. To which Kennedy famously replied, ''You're in it with me''...... The meeting broke without a decision. This is where Robert Kennedy, as he had done so often for his brother, stepped forward and took control. He correctly surmised that the men around the table--- Kennedy men-- would feel more free discussing their options without the President around. Ideas could be pitched and argued without the pressure to give JFK an answer. So, the President went on with his regular schedule while Bobby took the reins. The military idea was still supported by many, but, a new idea emerged: a blockade, or quarantine. If the Russian ships that were secretly delivering the missile parts to Cuba could be stopped, then some kind of leverage could be gained by not using the invasion idea. Bobby took to the idea of a quarantine like a duck to water. He presented the idea to the President, who endorsed the suggestion. While still fending off the military hawks who wanted blood, JFK put forth the blockade idea. Now, our navy ships would meet the Russina ships head-on, hopefully, without firing a shot, and, stop their progress towards Cuba. After several days of planning and debate, Kennedy went forward with the story to the public in his speech on October, 22..... In Moscow, Soviet Premier Nikita Khrushchev was outraged that his secret arming of Cuba had been discovered. But, Khrushchev, for all of his famous bluster, was a sensible man. They had been caught, so, he knew he must find a way to keep those missiles in Cuba without the threat of nuclear war [ back then, a missile fired from either the U.S. or Russia would take about 15 minutes to hit the other country. Now, it would be in the seconds ]. Dealing with his higher ups in Russia, the Presidium, Khrushchev had to save face for both his country and himself. Meanwhile, the Russian ships and the American ships were closely in on each other..... The ships faced off at each other on October 24th from a distance. On both sides of the world, Kennedy and Khrushchev anxiously waited for the other to crumble. The stakes were the highest of the whole crisis. The Americans were prepared to stop the Russian ships. At first, there would be a peaceful request. If the Russians ignored the request and ran the blockade, then we would forcefully stop them through fire. For several tension filled hours the world waited on the brink of war. Who would give up?.... The Russian ships stopped in the water. They would not move forward. Finally, they turned around and went back towards Russia. A great cheer went up in the room of Kennedy men. As Secretaryof State Dean Rusk stated, ''We've just went eyeball to eyeball and the other fellow blinked!'''... But, the crises was not over yet. There still remained the issue of the missiles in Cuba to be removed. Khrushchev was not bringing any more to the island, but, he was also not taking them out either. Again, this is where Robert Kennedy was so crucial to history. With his brother's support he went back-channel with the Russians. He told key people in the Russian embassy in Washington that the United States was fully prepared to launch an invasion to take the missiles out. Back and forth went the negotiations while the world moved closer to the brink. Finally, the Russians, on the thirteenth day, announced that they would be dismantling the missiles with the agreement that the U.S. would not invade Cuba at any time. Also, there was a backroom agreement for the U.S. to remove their missiles from Turkey in the near future. This last demand was kept from the public. It was not that much of a concession--- JFK had wanted the Turkish missiles removed for many months, but, to save face, it was kept hush-hush for many years... Robert Kennedy emerges as the hero during the crisis. By controlling, with his brother, the hawks in his government, along with the stubborn negotiations he undertook with the Russians, he saved the world from nuclear destruction. There were other heroes on both sides, certainly, but, Bobby was the ringleader, the center of all activity.... The ground were the missiles were in Cuba was plowed over, and within a few months there was no sign of any evidence of how close the world came to ending.... My Dad once told me how harrowing those days were. I was not yet born, but, he had my mother, my sister, and, my infant brother. He told me how he would go to work and cry-- along with the other men he worked with-- that there was a chance that he would never see his small family again. Finally, he decided that he would stay home from work with his family and hold them close.... I believe, in those desperate times, many people around the world were doing the same thing....

In Memoriam: Saturday Night Live

I haven't quite figured out why they scream the opening. Perhaps, it goes with what comedy has sunk to. To cover the weakness of humor, you yell and scream and run into each other and hit each other in the crotch for the punchline. While people are ''laughing'' at the action, they do not understand that beneath all the clamor there is no humor to be found. It is ''bells and whistles'' comedy, no substance. Maybe, that is why ''Live From New York, Its Saturday Night!'' is bellowed at such a high decibal level..... I remember this show fondly from my youth when it meant something. There was high comedy art and satire, along with the catchphrases that the public walked around repeating. Well, it still does have the catchphrases, but, the days of substance and quality are long gone. Now, it is impossible to follow the magic of the original show. It was a different time in history--- the 1970's--- where a generation brought up on television gained control of the medium. The times were sharp and ready for topical humor. Watergate and Vietnam had brought America to its knees. The sexual revolution, women and gay rights, and, the realization that our leaders were not whom we always thought they were, demanded that entertainment address these topics. Music did it in the 60's. Now, comedy had its princes lined up to take the banner of satire and go to the ultimate extreme. Stand-up had Pryor and Carlin and Steve Martin [ all would host the ''SNL'', with Carlin as its first host]. Sketch players had ''Second City'' and the ''Groundlings''. And, ''The National Lampoon'' had a Off-Broadway revue called ''Lemmings'', which brought all these ingrediants of current humor together. So, when an enterprising young Canadian producer named Lorne Michaels pitched a late night program concept to NBC, he knew exactly what he wanted and where to find these performers.... It helped that the road was wide open. They would not be compared to what had come before because nothing had ever been attempted at this level. When ''SNL'' premiered in October, 1975, it was hailed in the counterculture as a revelation and a revolution. Here, finally, was a show that spoke for them. They laughed at the political jokes, the drug jokes, and the references to their generation. On the other side, the establishment hated the show for the same reasons as its supporters so embraced them. They were too shocking and obscene. Older viewers were very offended that the show would make fun of anything. One joke, read on ''Weekend Update'', brought a torrid of hate mail from the public. It concerned the real-life shooting of a T.V. personality known as ''Professor Backwards'', who had an act of saying words in the reverse order. Chevy Chase read that after being shot, the Professor cried out, ''Pleh! Pleh!'' [ I still laugh at this. If you do not yet get the joke, go back and look at the words again]. Older comedians and viewers, like Johnny Carson, were appalled by this joke. It was offensive, insulting, and mean. Well, yes, it was. That is the right of the young: to shock and provoke the older generation. ''SNL'' saw the line of taste that first season and cheerfully jumped quickly over it.... The show was much more than shock value. It was a dead-on satire of everyday life and the events swirling around us. Along with this topical commentary came an extraordinary collection of characters created by this very young, talented cast. The Coneheads, a Samurai, an old lady named Emily Litella, Roseanne Roseannadanna, a lounge singer who butchered modern music in show-business cliches, a stumbling President, two nerds, killer bees, ''Weekend Update'', which skewered the news, all of these became beloved by the public. As the show progressed past its first year, the ratings soared. Even the establishment, which had blasted it, now embraced its audacity. The press quickly dubbed them , ''The Beatles Of Comedy''. Like the Beatles, ''SNL'' had nerve and got away with it. Even the actual Beatles themselves were rabid fans of the show. These were the days, remember, before cable and VCR's. You had to be home or at a party to watch the show. Because, it was a show that everybody talked about the next day. It was high-energy comedy, like tightrope walking. It was live and it was dangerous. You never knew what could happen. And, because of that danger, an electricity ran through the T.V. That gave the show its edge-- an edge that went away with the original cast in 1980..... After the departure of the ''Not Ready For Prime Time Players'', the show took a massive hit in popularity and quality. While there have been talented people throughout the shows history--- Phil Hartman, Dennis Miller, Dana Carvey, Eddie Murphy, Tina Fey--- there has also been a parade of bad performers who used the show not for its original purpose, but, rather, to launch a movie career. That is fine. Everybody is allowed ambition, the original cast left the show for the movies, but, with this new mentality, the purpose of the show in the first place has been badly lost. That is why the show is no longer relevant. People are hired, and immediately have agents and are making deals to move on. Any thought of creating worthwhile comedy is lost in the search for the gold of stardom. Jimmy Fallon may be the best example of this. For some unexplained reason he was hired for the show and was given the showcase of ''Weekend Update''. Watch his smirking through ''Update''. He is telling us how funny he is. Not showing it, but, telling us. Clearly, his agenda is not presenting comedy, but, presenting Jimmy Fallon [ the same can be said for his talk show and commercials ]. The Lorne Michaels from 1975 would not have put up with this shit. If anything, the original show would have mercilessly devoured a lame performer like Fallon. They would have cut him up like cat food... That may be the key problem of the show all of these years. Lorne Michaels is still in charge. He has long ago shed the rebel outsider from the first show and willingly embraced the establishment. Again, nothing wrong with that. But, when you give up the outsider's role then you do lose the touch of the people and what is going on. You view life through a limo instead of walking the streets. You vacation in the Hamptons instead of talking to your public in bars. With age comes security and not taking as many risks as one does in your youth. The heart of why the show has been creaky and stale is that it has long become what it used to parody. I suppose that is to be expected, but, for those of us that held the rascal nature of the first show so dear to our hearts, it is painful. It is like a once-great performer just playing of past glories and riches. Pretty sad for a comedy show.... I have never been to 8H where the show is presented. I would like to go sometime. Somewhere, on that stage, are the ghosts of glories past. Somewhere, there is a Albanian man with a Samurai sword. Or, a spunky, cute-as-a-button girl playing  Roseanne Roseannadanna. Or, a clumsy man taking falls as our President. They are there, probably wondering why no current comedy from the show is joining their ranks of greatness....

Random Thoughts: October 2012

It is funny to me that whenever I see a political debate I always am reminded of the movie ''Being There'' with Peter Sellers. Perhaps, you remember the movie from 1979. It is the story of a mentally slow man, who has been sheltered all of his life . At middle-age, his benefactor dies, and, he is forced to be thrown out of his house that he has never been out of, for the first time. He tended his garden at the house and watched TV all day. That was his life. He is a simpleton, sweet-hearted and honest to the core. When he is thrown out into the cruel, cold world, he, through a series of accidents, becomes an important man. He becomes an intimate advisor to the President and many powerful people. The film is a wonderful comedy, a classic. See it. It is the film ''Forrest Gump'' ripped off, by the way. And, it is a dead-on satire of the media and the insane ways we pick our leaders and how their simple words are mistaken for great wisdom. One of the conclusions of the movie is a scene where he is seriously discussed as a Presidential nominee. A simpleton who is picked by powerful people to run the United States. Sound familiar to anyone???...... I guess I have decided who I am going to vote for. And, like millions of people out there I am disgusted that I have to pick one of these candidates. The lesser of two evils. Ever since I started to vote years ago I am always faced with this choice at the ballot booth. Whether it is local or national I always pray a little bit before I cast my ballot. My prayer? That this person will not turn out to live up to my worst fears. That , finally, we have someone who will make a difference. I do not expect honesty and integrity--- after all this is politics, which is the cesspool of all cesspools of corruption. But, my optimism sometimes shines through and I hope this person can be another Lincoln, FDR, or, Bobby Kennedy. Someone big who cares about the little people. We have had them and they have made a difference. Then, in many cases, we have killed them because they are different and do not follow the slime-trail of all the rest of them. I understand completely the mindset of people who do not vote. The frustration and apathy. The are tired of being shafted and corrupted. They realize very little can be done by the powerbrokers towards them. They sit out the race. I respect their passion and their stand. However, I always take the view that if you do not vote [ and, some don't because they are too lazy, or, do not want jury duty ] then you have no right to comment on the world and how it is run. You did not try to change for the better. Fine, it is your right. Just shut up for the next four years then. That is your penance. Mine will be trying to justify to myself why I voted for the person I did. I have two choices in Obama and Romney. I have decided I am picking one of them. But, it is a vote I will not be able to defend or feel proud of..... We must always remember to thank comedian Gilbert Gottfried for the ''Too Soon?'' words that are now part of the vernacular. The genesis of this phrase can be traced to a Friars Club Roast for Hugh Hefner. It is a few weeks after 9/11, and the emotions are still very raw. We did not feel like laughing too much, especially at dicey humor. We were all trying to get along with each other in a more loving way [ we all knew that wouldn't last ]. So, Gottfried get up there and brought the world of comedy to a pre- 9/11 state. The joke I do not remember correctly. To paraphrase, it concerned his inability to find a plane that would take him non-stop anywhere. Except for New York, where it would make two unscheduled stops in buildings. I believe that was the crux of his set-up. Immediately, cries went up in the audience-- remember these were fellow comedians--- who screamed, ''NO!''', ''STOP!'', and, our new phrase, ''TOO SOON!!''' This little response, from an unknown audience member, became an instant saying among the people. Now, if someone told a joke or comment that was too close to a death or tragedy, then the term ''Too Soon'' would be the response of some people. Those of you who know me know I occasionally cross over into naughty humor. Some see it as inappropriate, and, some see the point. The point is, while it may be too extreme to hear some dark humor, it also can be seen as a release. You are laughing at death. And, as we all know, death has the last laugh on us. I always heard an explanation about sick humor that can be traced to Woody Allen. The saying is, '' Tragedy + Time = Humor''. The fun part really is pissing off people who are offended!!! That is even better than getting a laugh!!! I will just say I have never bought that bit of behavior that you cannot make fun of a dead person, especially if I did not like them. If I did not like them alive, then, it is hypocritical for me to suddenly feel warm about them since they are dead. Cruel? Maybe, but, I am being true to my feelings towards that person.... Fall is my favorite time of the year. The heat of summer is gone and a nice, cool temperature will be the norm for a few months. The colors are pretty, and, there is the wonderful aroma of fires being enjoyed. Football goes full-throttle and even the most casual sports person will be swept up in the frenzy of another Bears season. We all know that another brutal winter is on the horizon, with shoveling and bitter cold. Ugh!!! That is why fall is so special to me. We had the white-hot heat of a summer, when things race by in a fast clip. And, winter is over our shoulder, when things crawl to a snails pace. But, fall is a calm period. To take stock and enjoy life. There is a warm and pleasurable feeling of a sweatshirt or pullover around you. You hunt for pumpkins and you rake the leaves and you greet the trick-or-treaters. You buy the turkey for Thanksgiving in a few weeks and you fret that Christmas will be here soon and you are still paying off the bills from last Christmas. Yes, there is a calmness to fall. A time to take a breath and enjoy being alive.... Unless you are Donna Summer. Then you will always be cold and stiff..... Too Soon?????

Meeting Dan Aykroyd

It was excellent!!! Totally fuckin excellent!!! And, I wasn't the only one who felt it. There was a ripple that ran through the crowd. That is true when anyone famous walks among us. But, Dan Aykroyd has always, I believe, escaped that burden of being super-famous, with the entourages and the outrageous antics that we associate with stars. He is blue-collar, stubbornly normal in the abnormal world of show business. I met him today at Binnys.... It was a signing for his ''Crystal Head Vodka''. Now, I am a vodka drinker and I have had a desire to try Mr. Aykroyd's potion. But, when I saw the price--- north of $80.00 bucks a pop--- I decided to wait it out another time to taste test. However, I always wanted to meet him. He is one of my comedy heroes. A pioneer, with his friends, of ''Saturday Night Live'', and classic film comedies. ''The Blues Brothers'' movie [ and records] remain close to my heart. This movie, like many favorites, I can quote verbatim. There is a favorite scene of mine that every guy I know loves. The brothers are being pulled over for running a red light [ actually, the light was yellow, says Elwood]. While the police are checking Elwood's driving record, Elwood turns to his brother Jake and says, ''I bet those cops have S.C.M.O.D.S.'' Jake asks, ''S.C.M.O.D.S?'' To which Elwood responds, '' State, County, Municipal, Offender, Data, Systems.''... It is a police term that I am not even sure is used anymore, but, back in 1980 it was. For some reason I love this scene, and, I heard Aykroyd once say in an interview that this is his favorite scene in the movie. Any cop that I know loves it when it is quoted to them. A strong believer in authority and police, Dan Aykroyd also loves the criminal underworld with fascination. While never being a criminal himself, he has always cultivated friends in this world. His fascination with cops and their prey led to a running joke about him in the ''SNL'' offices: his ideal fantasy would be to committ a crime and then arrest himself.... So, he was signing his vodka at ''Binnys'' in Arlington Heights. The time for this was scheduled between 5pm to 7pm. Fortunately, I finish work at 3, so, I zipped over from Glen Ellyn to A.H. in record time. I was doing some serious speeding at times, folks [ Elwood would be proud ]. I arrived around 3:30 and found immediate parking. Hauling it into the store-- with a book I wanted Dan to autograph--- I was very pleased to see a line that was not long. There was a zigzag pattern to what the store had lain out. The ''Binnys'' people were very helpful and organized. As I got in line, one of the employees told me I was number 62. I asked when the cutoff would be when they would stop the line and he said around 300. I relaxed. I was safe..... I immediately started to talk to people in line. This is a trait of my Dad's. Make friendly conservation. It also helped that one of the people I was talking to was nice-looking with big breasts. An attractive woman, with alcohol around me, waiting for a comic god. If I had cheeseballs I would consider this moment Heaven. We all made chit-chat. Other people began arriving around us in time. Some came as ''Ghostbusters''. About five guys who dressed as the boys in the movie did. And, they also looked liked forty-something year- old virgins who never kissed a girl. I pointed this out to the big breasted woman in front of me.... The book I was carrying for Dan Aykroyd to sign is called  ''The Best Of Friends'', by David Michaelis. It was published in 1983 and it is a profile of friendships between men. Some of these men are famous, like John Kennedy and Lem Billings. Some are not household names. One such portrait of a deep friendship in the book was between Dan Aykroyd and John Belushi. I have written in other blogs about these two and their brotherhood and dedication to each other. The chapter on them in this book is quite wonderful to read. Dan did the interview with the author two months after Belushi's death in 1982. His feelings and emotions were still very raw after losing his soul brother so abruptly. In the profile, he talks about their professional and personal bonding. They were brothers, said Dan. Kindred spirits. Aykroyd summed up his feeling for Belushi by saying, '' I'm not a homo, and neither was John, but, when I saw him come into a room I got the jump you get when you see a beautiful woman. That pit from the stomach feeling. Being with him was electric, really electric.'' The profile-- really for fans of these two-- is heartfelt and strong. The author, Michaelis, captured them so well that when I was wondering what I could bring to have Dan sign this instantly jumped into my mind..... The line was getting big when our guest of honor arrived early at 4:30. He got a well-deserved ovation from us. Dan is sixty now. Long gone is the young, sleek performer. He is now quite chubby. He has been married to the very hot Donna Dixon for many years and has three daughters with her. If I was married to Donna Dixon I would not spend my time working out. I would be home with her trying to make another kid. Anyway, he strolled in and immediately addressed the crowd in the classic Dan Aykroyd machine-gun delivery. He thanked us all for coming out and said we will have some fun. He was wearing shades. Now, I usually do not like it when a performer wears shades for personal appearances. I wanna see your eyes. The whole face. But, somehow, it seemed in character that he was wearing sunglasses. In a way, Elwood Blues was making an appearance also.... The line moved forward at a good speed. Because of the size of the crowd there was only so much time that a person was given. Some bought the vodka. Some, like me, brought other things for him to sign. The deal was that he would sign these items for a fee of ten dollars. Then all the money would be donated to charity. I paid the ten for him to sign my book. And, the line got closer..... My turn came. I gave my phone to a man nearby and asked him if he would take a picture of Dan and me. He said yes. Then I turned to Dan. I said, ''Hello, Mr. Aykroyd, can you sign my book for me?'' He said yes. I handed him the spot in the book that starts the chapter of John and him. There is a picture of John and Dan taken around 1977 on one side. Dan signed his name, and, as he did I asked him if he could write my suggestion. I told him what I wanted and he smiled a big smile. It told me he was in favor of my request. I then sat next to him and the man took our picture. I said to Dan, as I shook his hand a second time, ''Thank you, my friend.'' He replied, ''And, thank you , my friend''. I took my phone and left. I looked at the picture of Dan and me. And, then, dumbfuck that I am, I accidently erased it!!!! I was tempted to go back to get another shot, but, the people had moved on. That is ok. The picture is in my memory forever.... I walked outside and looked at my book and what I had requested that he sign for me.  I smiled because it is so him. Next to the picture of him and his best friend and Blues Brother, he wrote, '' DAN AYKROYD, THEY'VE GOT S.C.M.O.D.S.'''..........

The Walk

And, so we walked. The beautiful weather was our friend- there is something wonderful that nice weather does to your system. When the weather cooperates, then all is possible. It wasn't that much of a burden, the walk. I joke around a lot , but, the three miles was very doable. I had my sister by me and my cousin Joe. Together, we all joined family arms to pay a little tribute to Brother Tommy.... My cousin Joe Bersani is a guy you want in your life. Smart, strong [ both physically and emotionally ] with the twisted sense of humor that flows from both sides of the family. Joe will always be there for you, it is in his DNA. All my cousins and their spouses and children possess this trait. As does my sister Lisa and I. We all come from good genes, so, being there for each other is part of our souls, just like breathing in and out. Joe was representing that side of our family. There was a family engagement party that kept more of the family from showing up. Make no mistake, these people are as strong a support system as there ever has been. Countless times they are there. When you walk through life with family-- and, a few good friends--- beside you, NOTHING else matters. They are the core of the spirit of life.... This spirit was hovering around us in the walk. Lisa came across this event a few years ago, but, circumstances only allowed us to join the movement this year. Lisa told me about it a couple of months ago with a little hesitation on her part. She knows how I am about many charities. I have an old friend who had a nasty run in with the Salvation Army years ago. The stories I heard about their dealings-- along with post 9/11 stories about where the victims families money went--- has left a bitter taste in my mouth. But, what made this particular organization attractive to me was that no money was to be exchanged if you didn't want it to. The walk was free, beverages and momentos were also on the house. You can donate if you feel like it. We did.... Lisa and I drove to Libertyville early Saturday morning. The location was a beautiful park, with the extraordianry beauty of a lake and footpaths as its layout. We got there early and noticed that the street that the park was on is called Des Plaines Ln. Being that this is our hometown name it was a nice omen if you look for signs like this [ and, I do ]. Already, many hundreds of people were gathered. Many teams had multilple members, and, right away, both Lisa and I made the joint decision that if this goes well, then next year we will have a big team. Lisa and I were dressed for the walk comfortably. We noticed that most of the walkers--- now, these are survivors of suicide victims, remember--- had the names and pictures of their loved ones on their shirts. This was the saddest and most sobering moments of this event. Our brother killed himself at 33, a young age, to be sure, but, he did live many great and happy moments in that short time. The pictures and ages we saw on these peoples shirts brought us to our knees. Children. Teenages. Adults. Lisa saw a shirt of a mature woman who must have had her husband on it. This woman was crying for him. My sister and I had tears in out eyes for these people. Especially, for the children. One shirt I saw was a child that had to be no older than ten years old. How and why the victims did what they did, of course, I do not know. They all have their stories, and, until they openly tell their heartbreak, then it remains private, as it should be.... We registered and then waited for our cousin. Walking around the tents and tables we came across two tables that we stopped at. One was a table of rememberance beads. They were different colors, each one representing your relation to whom you were there to honor. Our color was orange for a sibling. We got blue for Joe because he was a cousin. Then we stopped at a table with small rocks. Lisa wrote a little message on the rock for Tommy. It was expressing our love to him and how we missed him. The beads went around our necks and the rock went in the pocket, to be thrown at a later time.... Joe joined us and we hugged and kissed. My family is a combination of Irish, Italian, German, and French, so, you know that there is a lot of passionate expression of love when we all meet. After Joe checked in, we walked a little about the park waiting for the official start. With family comes the familiar stories of our history. We talked about our departed parents and how proud we were that we were so lucky to come from them. We talked about the craziness that joined our mothers, who were sisters, at the hip. And, the sweet goodness that came from them and our fathers. Tommy and his exploits were mentioned. Many families would tiptoe around the sensitive issue of his death. Not my family, we address the elephant in the room. It has been seventeen years since that horrible day, but, as in all deaths that touch the heart, somehow, it still feels very recent.... We were getting a little antsy. The start time seemed to take forever. I guess other people felt the same because a group of, maybe, twelve, just took a path and started walking. The three of us followed. As we started, I looked up and said, ''This is for you, Tommy!!''' Soon, I looked back and, by now, it seemed a good thousand people or more were joining us. We continued to talk among the three of us about this and that, but, I also detached myself a little in my mind. I was thinking about Tommy. I had this image of him in Heaven looking down. I felt him smiling that wonderful smile of his. The weather was perfect, but, I felt the warmth coming directly from him. That warmth and smile was a nice feeling, a comfort. I also smiled internally myself because I know he was laughing that his little brother was sweating for him [ we fought a lot through the years ]. I silently, and, with good humor, answered him. My answer was, ''You got me exercising for you, you son of a bitch!!!'''..... The walk was nearly over when we stopped at a bridge. We only had a short distance to go, but, it was time to throw the rock. Lisa gave it to me and I tossed. Not the best throw in the world, I grant you. I always had a weak throwing arm. My cousin teased me, ''You know, Jimmy, Tommy would have tossed that across the lake!!!''' We laughed and stood silent for a moment and watched the ripples from the rock hitting the water. The ripples expanded, as they always do, until it filled an area. I thought, somehow, the ripples were touching Tom somewhere. They were sending our love to him. Then, we turned and finished the walk.... When it was over we felt good. No major achievement had been accomplished. Just a little walk for our lost brother and cousin. He would have done the same for us, I know. We took Joe to lunch to celebrate and to say thank you. The talk at the table turned to familiar everyday life stories. It shows again how life goes on. You honor and remember and shed a tear or two, but, you go on. We are survivors in my family, I am proud to say. We go on.... And, my brother, after he watched us do the walk with love, strolled to the plate in whatever baseball game he was playing in Heaven. My parents were in the stands watching him, along with my beloved Aunt Gloria and Uncle Joe..... And, I know Tommy hit a homer.....