All The Lonely People

She sat at the bar because that was her life. She had to be in her mid-50's at the time. She was trying to look like she was in her mid-40's. Her name was Diana and she was one of the regulars. Scotch was her drink, which is unusual--- most women do not like the taste of the foul-tasting poison. Diana was there 4 or 5 times a week. And, on the weekends she was a mainstay. Like many people in life, she had been burned by love. Her eyes spoke the pain whenever you talked to her. Diana would start to tell you about the various men who did her wrong, one bad choice after another. And, then, the talk would always go to her true love, a man named Barry. Barry was someone she fell hard for when she was in her twenties. He was ten years older than her, therefore, he possessed the self-confidence and worldly air that she soaked up like a sponge. He was married at the time, unhappily, he told her. Whether it was true or not, she fell hard for him. Diana said that Barry told her that he would leave his wife for her, but, financially [ always the handy excuse ] he could not. His wife would ruin him. So, for a while, Diana and Barry were having this affair under cloak and dagger. There was genuine love there, according to her. And, she clung to the hope that someday, he would leave the wife and settle down with Diana. After three years, the affair lost its charm. Not from Diana. But, from Barry. He decided that he would stay with his wife after all. Barry explained to Diana that he loved her, but, he could not leave his wife. Naturally, this shattered Diana. She was heartbroken. She was angry. Mostly, she felt foolish. She had let her heart take away her common sense. It took her many years to realize that Barry, despite his protestations, never really loved her. She was just something that he kept on the side. The smile on his face that his wife would never understand, Diana said bitterly. When they broke up, Diana was just hitting the age of thirty, a crucial age for a woman. She had no husband, no children, and mostly, she became cynical about true love. Short-term love, yes, she got. But, the all-consuming, two souls merching together forever love, was something she would never have. Soon, after her failed love affair, she turned to drink and bar pickups. For twenty years, both of these vices slowly sapped away her energy and vitality. By her mid-50's, she found that barstool that had become her second home. Drinking away the hours, telling anyone who would listen her tale of woe. And, waiting for that love to come back just one more time...... John had seen death for most of his early adult life. He was a veteran of two wars, a tough son of a bitch if there ever was one. He was seventy. As with most men as they get older, the spread of middle-age increased into old age. It was hard to picture him on the island of Iwo Jima, all young and in fighting shape. But, he brought out the pictures to show us. He looked like a young Errol Flynn [ which he claimed helped him enormously with the women!]. Dark hair, not a ounce of fat to cling to his body. The pictures, which he was never too shy to show people, were of his years in the service. He was drafted into World War Two at the age of eighteen. Like most men, he wanted to fight the good fight in ''The War'', as everyone called it. Perhaps, like no other time in history, this war was universally accepted. Hitler had to go down, the same with Tojo and Mussolini. John wanted to get those bastards that had attacked his country and fellow citizens. At first, he saw very little combat. He was a Marine, naturally, and Marines wanted to kill, so, his impatience grew sometimes into a frustrating temper. Finally, after several months of '' pulling our puds'', as he described it, John and his fellow Marines were sent right into the heart of battle, fighting those detested Japanese. The island they were fighting on was called Iwo Jima, a name he couldn't have pronounced only weeks earlier. The went ashore with thousands of other soldiers, John said, all with the conviction that this battle would be over quickly. This was the spring of 1945, with the European war almost over, all attention now being directed towards the Japanese effort. John described the landing and high hopes for a quick victory. He talked about very little resistance at first. Then, his voice would become quiet and subdued. John would always need several drinks in him to talk about the death. The alcohol seemed to both open him up to his pain, and, to ironically, soothe his soul by confessing it. He talked about the bodies being blown apart and the carnage. The lucky, he said, died quickly, without any knowledge that they had been hit. The poor men who suffered knew what happened to them. The stench of death was overwhelming. The inhumanity. And, mostly, the screaming. The screams of pain. The screams towards God to help them. The screams coupled with the looks directed towards John. Those looks and screams were pleading with him to do something about their suffering. He couldn't. He did his duty like a good soldier and survived the war. That was all he could do. And, for reasons that he could never fathom, he stayed in the service after the war, only to be sucked into the Korean War five years later. There, he heard the screams and saw the agony again. More inhumanity. By the time he sat on his barstool in the mid-1990's, he was no longer John, he said. He was a Dead Man Walking, just awaiting death. John told me he had the nightmares that all veterans of war had. He saw the images of young men, his friends who never lived a long life, blown to pieces. As John would take another sip from his drink on his second home of a barstool, he told me quietly that he still heard the screams........ Mike, the bartender, heard all of the stories, he told me. He was the caretaker of people's feelings and emotions as soon as they walked through the door. He was a damn fine bartender. He knew everybody's drinks. He knew when to approach you when you were ready for another round. He knew when to give you that free drink and to pour a drink properly. A real drinker knows that you do not want a mixed drink too strong. You don't have to beat yourself up to prove how big a juicer you are. The same with weak drinks. You are paying for it, so, of course, you want the bartender to give you your dollars worth. Mike was good about all aspects of bartending. He listened well, joked around when necessary, and, when inevitably, a stranger decided to show his beer muscles, Mike would calmly talk the guy down. Some nights, though, more than talk was needed. Mike, all tall giant that he was, would carefully escort said offending party out of the gin joint. Mike had to be about 40 when I knew him. Bartending was his primary job. He seemed to have a lot going for him, so, one day, I asked him how come he wasn't out in the world tearing it up. The bar was not crowded that day, so, he had time to talk. I guess I must have hit him at the right time because a look of sadness came over him, a look like he wanted, for once, to unload on someone like everybody unloaded their problems on him. He told me that his early twenties and thirtees he was a big deal. He studied law and passed the bar and got a job in a big time law firm downtown. His life became one party after another. He lived the wine, women, and song life to a T. By the age of 32, he had the nice house, fancy car, model girlfriend, the whole shebang. Then, he defended someone that changed his life. Mike said this guy was a genuine piece of shit, a true lowlife. The guy was charged with raping a ten year old girl by knifepoint. Mike said that his client was clearly guilty and should be behind bars for the public's safety. But, as his lawyer, it was his duty to defend him, which he did. Without giving me details, Mike found a loophole in the police handling of the arrest. With this technicality, Mike was able to get his client off on the rape charge, which he did. Mike said he justified it to himself by saying that he did what any good lawyer did, which is to defend his client. Six months later, his client raped and murdered another ten year old girl. He was eventually convicted, but, for Mike, it forever stained his soul. Mike felt personally responsible. He kept telling himself that the little girl would still be alive if he had only not pressed that loophole and got the scumbag free. Mike knew that every lawyer comes to this crossroads at some time in his or her own career. But, he could not shake his feeling that he, somehow, was somewhat responsible. So, he walked away from it. He gave up defending people who were obviously guilty. He wanted something that he would not have too much of a conscious about. His only worry now, Mike said, was overserving someone. And, if he did, he made sure that person did not drive. After he was done telling me all of this, Mike smiled at me and said that I should become a bartender because I am easy to tell a story to. And, with that comment, he went to the other side of the bar. Someone wanted to talk to him about their troubles......... Kevin wanted to be in the Rolling Stones. That was his dream, he told me. To swap licks with Keith Richards and to have Mick sing his words. The Stones were his greatest influence in life. Kevin would laugh, because he was an old-time hippie. He said that his generation cared so much for the issues of the day, be it civil rights or the war in Vietnam. But, it all passed Kevin by. He cared about the world, but, didn't follow it too closely. His love, his true love, was the music. Kevin played the guitar. He was good but not great. He could sharpen his playing when he got down to playing bottle-necked blues, but, he was no Hendrix. Because he liked the Stones so much, he followed their musical influences. Especially, old time blues. When he played the blues, Kevin said, he would feel the sadness and pain floating through his system. He cried through his music. Oh, he liked the sing-along, lets dance rock and roll that Mick and the boys played, but, he loved their blues stuff the best on their early records. When he was younger, Kevin had a garage band. Like every musician he dreamed of the big time. Kevin saw himself up on that stage, and  be treating as an equal with Keith. First, he had to make the Big Break. He went on the auditions. He played his heart out. He played the bars and gave out good entertainment to his crowds, but, he never clicked. Fame, that allusive lady, was never close to him. Kevin tried every conceivable way to break into the business, from traveling all over the country, to once, he confessed to me, sleeping with a record producer's wife in the hopes of getting his foot in the door. Sadly, he did not make it. Kevin told me that by the time he turned fifty he put away his dreams of rock stardom and hanging with the Stones. The music still soared in his soul, but, now, it would be for the very few and not the legions he had envisioned. He resigned himself that his dreams were never to come true. At some point every weekend he would unpack his gear with his fellow hippie travelers and sing for the bar. We all knew his story and we all wanted to support him. He would play good and solid. The look on his face would be what would draw the attention of the audience. It was a look of someone who was there but, in a way, wasn't there. The look showed someone who went to a place in his mind and soul. That place was not in this room, but, rather, a stage somewhere. That stage had him singing and playing in his glory. He was the rock star he so wanted to be. Maybe, in that moment, he was playing with Keith and Mick was singing his words. Usually, music takes the audience into this special place, where all is well and your dreams and hopes all come true. But, whenever he played, Kevin was always going to that place with the audience. After he was done with a gig, and, all the applause had been applauded, Kevin would become himself again. And, he didn't handle that feeling well. The dreams of what might have been haunted him. One day, I walked into the bar expecting to hear his music. There was no band there. I asked the regulars where Kevin was. Mike, our fearless bartender, said that Kevin was found dead in his home earlier in the week. Soon, the autopsy report came out. He had died of a drug overdose. A rock star death....... I haven't seen these people for twenty years. I imagine some of them have passed on. And, maybe, some of them are still there. These stories are so commonplace in any bar. I hope the survivors are happy and productive. The ones that have passed away, well, I hope they found some peace on the other side. A bar is many things. Most of the time it is a fun place to have a good time with fun people. But, there are also people like these folks. Victims of love, war, the brutality of life, and lost dreams.......

Great Movie: ''Ghostbusters''

There is a fine line between insulting silliness and inventive silliness in comedy. Very few comics can straddle that line successfully. And, throwing in the concept of chasing ghosts invites even more danger of slipping on the banana peel of humor. Therefore, when the occasion does arise when silliness and invention crash at the safe intersection, we must salute the brilliant achievement in this form of comedy. With our pants around our ankles, of course...... ''Ghostbusters'' was released in the summer of 1984 and quickly became the highest grossing comedy in history [ until ''Home Alone'']. The concept of the movie was beyond simple: three parapsychologists get kicked out of college and are forced to start up their own business. Their business? Well, it is ridding homes and public places of pesky ghosts. They are ghost exterminators, flushing the dreaded spirit away with high-tech gadgets and gizmos. They store these captured ghosts in a storage tank in the basement of their building, a converted firehouse. At first, the business has no customers. They are in danger of losing everything, until, one late night, they are summoned to a swank hotel that has a history of strange psychic behavior. Through trial and hilarious error, they outfox the gremlin and he is their first capture. Soon, all of New York is swarming with these devils and the Ghostbusters are swamped for business. They add on a fourth ghostbuster and eventually, have to save the civilized world from doom and destruction........ This all works remarkably well. The comedy flows smoothly, mixing the sly one-liners with funny and crisp special effects. Usually, these two do not go together successfully. Nowadays, it standard that the special effects are the star, and, the characters--- what there are of them--- take the backseat to all the action. But, ''Ghostbusters'' was too smart to limit this to one set formula. First and foremost, the whole idea came from the brain of a comic genius, Dan Aykroyd. Aykroyd, as he has proved for several years on ''Saturday Night Live'', has a truly original comic mind. He seems to be tuned into galaxies that the rest of us do not encounter. When he travels these new destinations, Dan usually brings back a concept that has never been even thought of before. Or, if it has [ and, chasing ghosts in movies goes back in time to every great comedian] then, he puts a new spin on the formula. Originally, the film was to be a vehicle for him, John Belushi, and Eddie Murphy. It was to take place in the future, with the ghostbusters fighting different aliens in different solar systems. That concept died when his partner, Belushi, died [ Dan was actually writing a line of dialogue for John when he got the word of his best friend's death]. The idea sat on the back burner for a year, when Dan dusted it off and gave the script to Bill Murray. Murray liked it, and, when Harold Ramis and Ivan Reitman  came on board, the idea of the future was abandoned and the ghostbusters would be fighting their prey in modern times. Also, they made the conscious decision to feature Bill Murray as the central and lead force of the movie. Bill Murray, with his odd-ball observations and goofball charm, would be the perfect commentator on describing the weird events as they happened, like Groucho Marx would have........ These guys all knew each other for years. Murray and Ramis went back to ''Second City'' in Chicago, and, later on, Ramis would direct Murray in ''Caddyshack'', co-write ''Meatballs'' and ''Stripes'' for him [ and co-star in ''Stripes'']. Aykroyd and Murray would, of course, soar into the Comedy Hall Of Fame with the original ''SNL''. And, Reitman made his bones by co-producing ''Animal House'' and directing ''Stripes.'' Each was proven comic gold. And, they knew comedy. How to aim high-brow and low-brow. Both elements, if worked deftly by its creators, can spark a great comedy...... Which is what happened. To plum the depths of analysis of this simple comedy, and find something profound, would be an exercise in wasting my fucking time. This is a comedy, pure and simple, and, does very well, what is the backbone of comedy: to entertain and to make the people laugh. Nothing else. There are no deep and everlasting messages to a good comedy. Sometimes, the human behavior from the vehicle can make a lasting impression on the viewer, but, that is an added treat to the mix. The job of a comedy is to make the audience laugh. We all have various styles of comedy that tickle our funnybones. Some broad comedy works, like the Three Stooges and the ''Naked Gun'' movies. Some people laugh at the sophomoric and moronic humor, like Adam Sandler, and....... Adam Sandler, and....... Adam Sandler. You cannot tell someone what is funny, it is the territory of the viewer's mind to decide. ''Ghostbusters'' is an old idea updated in a fresh way, with many hilarious scenes and moments........ Start with the opening scenes with Bill Murray giving a rigged ESP test to a pretty college co-ed. There is some poor male sap sitting next to her trying to take the test seriously, but, Murray only has eyes for the hottie. This is the type of scene Bill Murray excels at: playing the leering, wise-ass in control of the situation. There is a look of joy on his face in every scene in the movie because Murray knows that he is in charge and is expressing our [ the audience] thoughts. That is the common thread of the movie and its strength, Bill Murray being a smartass. He seems to be winking at the audience--- never in a condescending or arrogant way--- that he knows this is silly business, and, to just relax, sit back, enjoy the show, and, he will comment and react for us on the screen. He has played this role many times in his career, sometimes, successfully, sometimes, he shoots a blank. Not here. His leering at the co-ed, and, after, Sigourney Weaver, who has a real problem of a ghost inhabiting her fridge, is comic gold. I mentioned Groucho earlier. I think Murray was channeling Groucho in this role. All he needed was a cigar....... This humor guides the movie from one charming comic nugget to another. Bill Murray tries to seduce [ in his own way] Sigourney Weaver when he checks out her apartment. He is rejected, for now. Eventually, after the hotel ghost is captured and the other ghosts come fast and furious, Weaver is reintroduced again with the same problem. Only this time, the ghost has entered her body and soul. This sets up a hilarious moment for Murray to play. He arrives at her apartment, unaware of her condition, for what he assumes is a date. Soon, he sees her condition. Does it scare him and make him run away? No. This is Dr. Venkman, folks. He doesn't get scared. He just wants to know, in his wonderful deadpan delivery, if they are still gonna go out. Even after her being possessed, his character is still trying to get laid. He has second thoughts quickly, however, when he hears her deep, possessed, Devil-like voice intone ''I want you in me!'' He replies, ''Sounds like you have two or three people in there with you already.'' Only Bill Murray could get a laugh off of that...... There are other standout comic scenes, the Mayor's office, Rick Moranis and his nerdy character, the EPA jerk [ played in a great smarmy way by William Atherton] and, finally, the last fifteen minutes or so on the rooftop. It is here that we learn Dan Aykroyd's favorite childhood memory in the form of a 40 story ''Stay Puff Marshmellow Man''. This apparition, which is the movie's biggest and most satisfying laugh, came from that furtile mind of Mr. Aykroyd. I like that he gave himself this biggest laugh, for he selflessly gives all the big moments in the movie to his friend, Murray. The look on all of their faces in priceless, as it sinks into them all that the destruction of the world will be because of a giant marshmellow man. For this one brilliant idea alone, Dan Aykroyd deserves automatic admission into Heaven...... Flashback to the scene when they capture their first ghost in the hotel ballroom. We first see the ghost in the corridors, eating like a slob off of the dessert wagon. Then, in another favorite moment, he confronts Bill Murray and slimes him. The story behind this is actually a tribute. This ghost would become known as ''Slimer'' in the ''Ghostbusters'' cartoon show. But, the actors all called it ''the ghost of John Belushi''. Dan, Bill, Harold, and Ivan all wanted their beloved, departed friend in the movie. They couldn't get him in the flesh, but, they could recreate him and his habits. It seems right that the first ghost they catch--- and, the last ghost you see on the screen before it goes to the credits--- is that free spirit Belushi......... This movie has become a generational movie for the ages. Little kids grow up on it. And, the adults can enjoy it with their kids. It successfully covers all the age bases and demographics of an audience. There are little frights in the movie, but, they are fun frights..... The movie made millions of dollars and spawned a sequel in 1989. The offspring, ''Ghostbusters 2'', sadly, lacks the charm and spirit of its parent movie. There are a couple of funny moments [ and, must be seen for the courtroom scene, where the ''Scoleri Brothers'' are introduced]. The movie made money, but, nothing like the first film. The fun of the original was it surprises and good-natured fun. The sequel seemed to be made purely for money, always a dangerous thing for a comedy. There is talk of a third movie. So far, Bill Murray is not willing to do it. And, if he says no, then, who ya gonna call??????

''Disco Sucks!''..... ''Disco Demolition''

I had one of those small TV's, you know, the black and white kind that was bought at Sears. For 1979, it was top of the line. I was going around the dial--- twisting the knob, for there was no remote-control--- and I came across a strange sight. I was on Channel 44 looking for the White Sox game. Now, I am a Cubs fan, but, I will watch the Sox if there is nothing else on. But, on this July night in 1979, the image that was greeting me was not the ballplayers playing ball. Rather, it was of a slightly overweight young man, in army fatigues, with a megaphone, imploring the crowd to follow his simple command. He wanted them to say in unison, ''Disco sucks!''...... Disco music had been around for many years in the underground clubs. Especially, the gay clubs. There has always been this type of music out there. It consists of using the same easy chords over and over again. It is music for people to dance to. Electronic mixed with studio engineering. Easy to produce, and, definitely, no great shakes to play if you are a real musician. So, this music bubbled under the surface in the late 60's and early 70's as rock was in its heyday. Suddenly, around 1974, Disco became mainstream. Rock giants from the previous decade were dying off, creatively and literally. As the harsh times of the Sixties receded, the world seemed to be in the mood to just dance, with no hidden agenda attached. Now, disco's were up and running, as many people embraced the need to shake their booties. And, then, in 1977, you finally had the Big Bang Of The Disco Revolution, with the release of ''Saturday Night Fever''. This film told the story of a dunce who had no ambition in life and didn't care. His life only came alive on Saturday nights, where he reigned supreme on the dance floor. It didn't matter that the movie was simplistic and downright hateful towards women, the public embraced it, and it became a cultural benchmark for its time. And, the music, supplied by The Bee Gees, ignited a firestorm of musical revolution. Overnight, everywhere you looked, people had white polyester suits, platform shoes, and boogied down to the nearest club to shake, shake, shake, their bodies. Disco was the music for the latter half of the 1970's...... As in any popular trend comes the opposite side: the backlash. As millions embraced Disco, so, did the fact that millions hated it. It ran the gamut from professional musicians, who saw their livelihood disappear, because with electronic dance music they weren't needed anymore to play, to teenagers [ mostly boys] who carried the banner for rock and roll. This was not a quiet crowd, as they let their displeasure be known. Now, the music stars of the day split the difference. Some stayed true to their roots and did not alter their musical form. But, some did go over to the ''dark side',' as Alice Cooper put it, and started to Disco their music up. Rod Stewart and The Rolling Stones were the best examples. Ethel Merman was the bottle of the barrel. Many die-hard fans felt betrayed by their favorite acts selling out to the market. It must be said that when Stewart and the Stones did go Disco, sales went through the roof. Rod Stewart had ''Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?'' and the Stones had ''Miss You.'' Both songs went right to the top of the charts and became signature songs for these artists. Still, many fans felt sick by the sell-out. Disco was threatening to wipe out all other types of music. What Disco really needed was someone to come in, and, like a General in battle, drive away the enemy forever..... Steve Dahl was trying to still find his bearings in the Chicago market. By the summer of 1979, Dahl had been in this marketplace for over a year, with mixed results. He had been a radio star in Detroit in the mid-70's, with his wacky voices and real-life storytelling. When he was lured to Chicago in early 1978, he was primed to take over the city. This was the days of Wally Phillips and Larry Lujack. Safe, easy, and, non-interesting radio. It was radio you had on in the background while you cleaned your house or drove the kids to school in the morning. Steve Dahl, at the ripe age of 23, represented the street humor that was all over popular culture, but, had yet to break through on radio. His first year in Chicago, at radio station WDAI, was not impressive. While he showed the signs of the rebel he was to become, he wasn't clicking with the public, at least in terms of ratings. By December of 1978, he was just another deejay in town, playing the game. Then, right around Christmas, Steve was called into the office of his boss. He was informed that the station was changing formats immediately and wanted to start playing the current hits of the day. Dahl refused to go along with the changes and quit on the spot. There was no way that Steve Dahl was gonnna play Disco music...... In the spring of 1979, Steve Dahl found another radio job, as morning man for WLUP radio [ ''the Loop'']. This was more his audience. Rock and roll teenagers and young adults, with a sneer on their lips and contempt for authority. And, contempt for the dreaded Disco music. Steve tapped into this rebellion and soon started to organize anti-Disco events at local clubs. With his new partner in crime, Garry Meier, by his side, Dahl rallied his young fans to blow up Disco records at these appearances. There was nothing dirty or vicious about these gatherings. I have heard critics say that these events were homophobic and racially offensive because Disco music had been born in those gay clubs and was embraced by a wide black audience. This is nonsense. Dahl was just imbibing in teenage energy mixed with his contempt for the status quo. It was harmless, even when Disco records were blown up every which way. While Steve Dahl did these showcases, he was quietly putting together a cult of popularity for himself..... Mike Veeck was the son of legendary White Sox owner and master showman, Bill Veeck. Any event to promote the ballclub was much welcome. In the summer on 1979, the White Sox were mired in another losing season. Their attendance numbers were next to nothing. Mostly, the organization needed a boost from the public and to bring people into the ballpark again, especially, young people. Mike Veeck was tuned into the rising popularity of ''the Loop'', particularly its rascal morning deejay, Steve Dahl. Veeck was impressed by the number of fans Dahl was gathering in clubs for these anti-Disco rallies. The penny dropped on Mike Veeck: have Steve Dahl and his ''Anti-Disco Coho Lips Army'' do an appearance in Comiskey Park and blow up Disco records in a big way. Dynamite them in a big box in center field. That should bring in some extra fans. The deal was soon made by the ballclub and the radio station. Steve Dahl would blow up Disco records between games of a twilight double-header on July 12, 1979...... Before the first game started, they were only about ten thousand fans in the ballpark. The price of admission had been dropped to 99 cents because that was the frequency of ''the Loop.'' In a stadium that holds around seventy thousand people, the ten that showed depressed Steve Dahl. It looked puny and unsuccessful. He feared failure at this event. Dahl thought the place was too big to fill for his fans. The first game soon started and Dahl, with his army hat and army fatigues on, sat glumly with his wife, Janet, and his partner Garry Meier. Steve Dahl was not expecting this to go well...... Then, around the middle of the first game, something strange started to happen. The fans showed up. Not just a couple hundred fans, but, tens of thousands of fans. Some were there for baseball, but, the majority were there for Dahl. Soon, as the game ended, every seat in the ballpark was taken and they were standing in the aisles. Many others were turned away from the gates for lack of room to place them. But, that didn't stop some from climbing the walls outside of the ballpark trying to get in. By the time that Steve was ready to take the field for the rally, estimates had around eighty thousand people watching his every move and ready to follow his every command....... Steve Dahl entered the ballpark like a Roman Emperor. He was being driven in a jeep around the field while thousands of his fans roared their approval. With him in the jeep were Meier, and ''Lorelei'' the ''Loop Girl''. Steve took his position near the infield while a huge box of Disco records were placed in center field. Fans had been encouraged to bring these records with them to the game so they could be blown up. Dynamite, three sticks, was placed around and in the box. Steve said some words to the crowd and soon gave the signal for the records to be blown up ''real good.'' Surprisingly, it went off without a hitch. The records blew high and wide and the crowd was delirious. Steve then sang a few words from his parody song ''Do Ya Think I'm Disco?'' a slam against the Rod Stewart song. Despite all the mess [ the blast blew a big hole in centerfield] the actual event of blowing up the records was a success. Soon, the cries of ''Disco Sucks!'' filled the air. Steve then took a much deserved victory lap around the field one last time and was then driven off to the cheers from his fans. Now, with a little clean up from the grounds crew, the second game would soon start....... Then, it all went crazy. Some fans, tanked up on cheap beer and cheap joints, rushed the playing field. As what always happens in a riot, it all happened very fast. Soon, thousands of people were running all over the diamond, knocking down the batting cage and stealing the bases. Some fans were sliding into the bases [ one of which was the future movie star Michael Clarke Duncan] and basically, destroying the surface of the field. The security on the field was helpless against this onslaught. Dozens cannot control thousands. Pleas from the broadcast booth from Harry Caray fell on deaf ears. Steve Dahl, fresh from the triumph on the field, at first did not know what was going on. Contrary to popular opinion, he did not tell anyone to go on the field. These actions were by a few, and, Dahl, logically, stated that maybe he should say something over the loudspeakers. If they were going to listen to anyone, he reasoned, it would be him. The White Sox brass flatly told him no, so, Dahl was helplessly watching all that was happening on the field....... The rioters were on the field for less than fifteen minutes. The police riot squad was called, and sure as you can say ''Disco Sucks''!, the crowd disbursed immediately. When the last of the rioters were gone, the field was assessed by the umpires and both ballclubs. The field was unplayable and the White Sox were forced to forfeit the second game. In time, the crowds slowly left Comsikey Park, not realizing that they had seen baseball, and, Chicago history that night. Over the next day, Steve Dahl's anti-Disco rally was being discussed in Europe..... After the dust had settled, what remained were two things.... 1. Disco died that night because there was such negative feelings directed towards the music, it showed the powers that be that there was an even stronger, more loyal audience out there that thought that Disco was uncool and old hat. The music industry, like all of society, likes to follow trends. And, with this fierce anti-Disco feeling coming out of a major ballpark, maybe, just maybe, Disco was through. Disco stars like ''K.C.'' of ''K.C. And The Sunshine Band'', and Donna Summer, later stated that ''Disco Demolition'' was the final nail in the coffin of Disco...... 2. Steve Dahl. With this infamous night, Steve Dahl became the pioneer of rebellious, anti-authority radio. Steve invented free-form radio, where the deejays no longer played just music, but, also expressed their own thoughts and personalities. Steve blazed the trail from everyone like Howard Stern to whatever favorite morning radio show you currently listen to. Steve, and his partner, Garry Meier, were the lightening rod of personality radio. If ''Saturday Night Fever'' was the Big Bang Of Disco, then ''Disco Demolition'' was the Big Bang Of Free Form Radio. Like all pioneers, Steve became a controversial figure around town. You either loved his openness or you hated his frank talk. I always loved it. No performer is more important for the direction of radio for the past 35 years than Steve Dahl........ Here we are now, 34 years later after that crazy night. Disco music never truly has gone away. It just morphed into ''Dance Music'', with even more electronic sounds and less musicians to play them. Steve Dahl, after revolutionizing radio for two decades, retired from mainstream radio and now does his podcast from his home everyday. He is a survivor, after having battled alcohol and the slings and arrows of a fickle public. No longer is he the youthful rebel...... When I hear the current state of music out there, with its vile hip-hop and techno dance mix, I'm thinking Steve might want to put the army uniform on one more time.........

''Our Lives, Our Fortunes, And Our Sacred Honor''

If you were strolling the courtyard of the State House in Philadelphia on that July day, chances are you had a mixture of emotions. Excitement melded with caution. Great jubilation mingled with great fear. The build-up to this moment had really been amassing for several years. Its origins were in small bars and coffeehouses in the New England area, specifically, in the Boston township. Boston leaders were the most hot-headed and committed to the cause. But, the other states had their firebrands, men who were prepared to stop at nothing for the greater cause. There had been battles in the field and death before this day. Horrible suffering for the past 15 months, ever since the first shots were fired on Concord Bridge in Massachusetts. Throughout all of the hardships and setbacks, through all of the fear and pessimism, finally, today, the document would be read. The complete document had gone through several revisions before it was approved  by its sponsers on the second of July. On the fourth, Congress officially gave its blessings. So, on this hot day of July the 8th, in the year of 1776, the public gathered in this courtyard to hear what amounted to hearing its freedom finally validated. This would become the most important single statement in history. It was The Declaration Of Independence....... ''When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to separation. We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness-- That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed,--That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness....'' These powerful words were the beginning of this document. Seen now over two hundred years later, the prose seems somewhat inflated. In fact, the day that this was read in that courtyard, most in the crowd that had gathered became restless at some point. The reason is that the author of the document, Thomas Jefferson, had, at times, written over the heads of the common people in order to make his argument. The words are stunning in written form, but, the average, not yet citizen, was stumped at various points. The basic thrust of what Jefferson had written was, in a nutshell, that any people, in any environment that has an oppressive regime controlling them, has all the right in the world to overthrow that regime and form a new government. Power to the people [ right on]. Later on in the declaration, Jefferson listed the abuses the King Of England had inflicted on the colonies. I have excerpted a few. See if they sound familiar...... ''He [ The King] has made Judges dependant on his Will alone, for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries.'' .... ''He has erected a multitude of New Offices, and sent hither swarms of Officers to harass our people, and eat out their substance....'' ''For protecting them, by mock Trial, from punishment for any Murders which they should committ on the Inhabitants of these States...'' ''For imposing Taxes on us without our Consent...'' ''For depriving us in many cases, of the benefits of Trial by Jury...'' ''For transporting us beyond Seas to be tried for pretended offences...'' ''For taking away our Charters, abolishing our most valuable Laws, and altering fundamentally the Forms of our Government...'' ''For suspending our own Legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever...''..... It was a different time, I know, with that era's abuses based on life around them as they lived it. However, the abuses still remain today in updated forms. The only difference is we no longer belong to the King of England. Our King is a President. We are just as beholden to our government as the Revoluntionary rebels in the 1770's were to England. Some things have changed, but, the brutal fact is the powerful continue to control the population and use them to fight wars, tax us to death, and committ abuses of our civil rights in the name of good government. The people will always be the chess pieces to be used by the hands of power. Oh, the chess board may look different throughout history. But, the rules of the game still apply..... ''We, therefore, the Represenatives of the United States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by the Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independant States, that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved, and that as Free and Independant States, they have full Power to levy War, conclude Peace, contract Alliances, establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independant States may of right do. And for the support of this Declaration, with the firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor...''....... A month later, 56 signatures would be listed on the Declaration Of Independence. Names such as Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin, John Hancock, Robert Morris, John Adams, and his cousin, Samuel Adams [ long before he became better known through beer ]. These men were genuine heroes. Some were quite rich and could have just sat out whatever war by watching in the comfort of their homes. But, by putting their names and signatures on this document, each man became a hunted man, wanted for treason by England. Had they been caught, they surely would have forfeit their lives and been hung. They did not care. Freedom meant more to them than personal comfort. In the selfish society that the world is today, giving up the way of life that these men had going for them is nothing short of astounding. How many people today would willingly part with fortunes and personal safety for the overall good of mankind and for the future of a country? Not many. They would be called fools and the exploiters in the world would instantly take advantage of their good intentions. That is a cold statement to write, but, sadly, a correct one. With the world we have going today, with its smear merchants and personal grasps for power, the ideas and goodwill of the well-intentioned are forever buried. I believe, with the practices of this government today, the Founding Fathers would be crushed to innuendo and corporate greed and they might be called terrorists...... Ok. Enough of the gloom of how we did not live up to the promise that these brave men held out for us. Now, let me talk about how we did do well. Personal freedom, and freedom of expression, still are the greatest legacy from the declaration. We have boundaries, yes, but, as the old cliche says, we can do and be anything we want. This country has the natural ability to see its flaws and correct them, the biggest example being the ending of slavery. We have led the world in inventions and technology. We have supported others who fight for the ounce of freedom that we have. We have not been perfect in picking our allies. But, we amend the situation, hopefully, in a decent and rational manner. I love that the United States is not perfect. That means we are constantly correcting and evolving ourselves to be better, all-around human beings. I do believe we still stand for the underdog, regardless of the cynicism about government control I have written above. There is a decency and caring that the people in this country have that transcends the world. After all, if we were so bad and horrible, why would people continue to come to this land in record waves, both legally and illegally? It is not our nice cars and homes and the various amenities that make up our lives, but, rather, the boundless optimism and the ability of dreams coming true that bring people to this country. Our most vicious enemies know this and that is a prime reason why they hate us so much. There is corruption and ugliness, but, more than any people in history, the United States has the ability to solve these problems and be the shining knight. Selfishness and the fear of the unknown are the prime enemies to our greatness continuing. As the years have gone on, we have, in some quarters, moved away from the passion of our Founding Fathers. Let us remember that these brave men were not without sin. Thomas Jefferson, the author of the Declaration of Independence, who wrote so passionately about freedom and oppression, himself was a slave owner his whole life. He had wanted to mention the slavery of blacks in the original draft but was talked out of it by the other delegates for fear that they would lose the support of the southern states. These men were brave, but, deeply flawed, like the great nation that they helped to create. I go back to the ability of this great country to correct its internal problems. We can do it. We have in the past. The violence in the streets and the corruption in Big Business can, and must, be dealt with as only a decent people like ours can do. It won't be perfect, but, as I, like all of you, get ready to celebrate the 4th of July, I hope that the spirit of independence will once again rise up and bring about the better angels of our nature, as Lincoln once said. It is our sacred Honor as human beings to continue down the road of decency and courage and the pursuit of right that these men blazed in 1776. I hope that somewhere out there, men and women, now unknown, will rise up and pick up the torch of these men. They will be our future heroes. Because, as we know, you can be anything you want in this country if you try....... ''You may say I'm a dreamer. But, I'm not the only one. I hope someday you'll join us. And, the world will live as one...''