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!!!!!''''