The Newell Post

Remembering Summertime Music

Posted on June 20, 2024 by section6rowh

Words Of Love

Summer Music Through My Years

1968

Bookends

Parsley Sage Rosemary and Thyme

Album 1700

Idea (Bee Gees)

1969

Rubber Soul

Yesterday And Today

Revolver

Crosby Stills And Nash

Blind Faith

Byrds Greatest Hits

Led Zeppelin First Album

1970

Let It Be

Woodstock

Byrds (Galore)

Deja Vu. CSNY

Candles In The Rain. Melanie

Get Yer Ya-Yas Out Stones

Their Satanic Majesties Request Stones

Easy Rider Soundtrack

1971

Aqualung Jethro Tull

Four Way Street CSNY

Carly Simon (First Album)

Every Picture Tells A Story

Cat Stevens Teaser And The Firecat

Summer Of 1968

It’s challenging to think about the summer of 1968 without first thinking about the spring of that year. Of course, in April, Martin Luther King was assassinated, and then, a short two months later, Bobby Kennedy was assassinated.

It was a tough year to graduate from high school, and there was no way I was adequately prepared for entering college. My head was spinning, and I really was adrift in my psyche with no foreseeable destination or a map to guide me there. I had not yet become a reader. That would not occur until 1970. So, music was my sanctuary during these dreadful days.

The summer before 1967, commonly referred to as the Summer of Love, virtually exploded on the radio. The Jefferson Airplane, The Jimi Hendrix Experience, Cream, and The Doors all created new and exciting music. But nothing compared to Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band by the Beatles.

However, by the summer of 1968, I wasn’t looking for anything so compelling. I entered my folk/folk-rock phase and sought out music with a message and a soothing sound.

The list of albums that I have selected for the Summer of 1968 is a rather shortlist. That is not a reflection on the state of music that summer but was more indicative of the state of the economy that summer. Well, my economy.

I needed to buy a stereo.

I had jerry-rigged my own version of stereophonic sound by converting my family’s hifi to a stereo. I needed a new cartridge for the HiFi, and our local radio and repair shop, Johnny McGrath’s, had a cartridge that would fit the tonearm of my hifi, but it was a stereo cartridge.

I reasoned that I could hook up a supplemental amplifier and add a speaker, and voila, I had a stereo. I bought a cheap amplifier and a speaker at Lafayette’s Electronics down on 14th Street in the city and put it all together.

It was ok for a while, but I needed a stereo.

I used to go to EJ Korvette’s during my lunch hour from the mailroom at Lorillard Corp, and I saw a nice system for $99.99. I vowed to buy it as soon as I had the money after putting aside enough for college.

So, it wasn’t until August that I could buy the XAM Stereo at Korvettes, which is the reason for my short summer list.

Short though the list may be, it is comprised of iconic songs from iconic groups,

If you ever saw The Graduate, you will understand how Bookends and Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, and Thyme made the list. After the terrible spring, it was something we all asked ourselves, WHERE HAVE YOU GONE JOE DIMAGGIO!!!

I was actually asking, where have you gone, Mickey Mantle? Thank goodness I had Joe Namath, or else I would have no stabilizing hero for whom to pine.

Where Bookends had us ask ourselves where the hell we were going, Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, and Thyme gave us poetry to help us through those troubled times even as it juxtaposed Silent Night with the mass murder of student nurses.

The next album on my list is Album 1700 by Peter, Paul, and Mary.

I had been listening to PPM for years thanks to my brother Michael, so one of the first stereo albums I bought had to be a PPM production. There were so many great songs that found a home in my psyche but perhaps none more than Bob Dylan’s Dream. Like the Byrds, Peter, Paul, and Mary sang Dylan so beautifully. But there were so many poignant numbers on this album powerfully performed, including Leaving On A Jet Plane by John Denver.

The last album of that summer was Idea by the Brothers Gibb, who was more commonly knows as the Bee Gees. Long before they or we knew of disco, the Bee Gees had several great songs, many of which were included on this album.

They were nice to listen to songs. Not so much full of meaning or poignancy, just excellent listening songs.

Well, 1968 had other terrific albums, to be sure. But these were the first few I bought for my new stereo. Other albums would come out in the fall, such as the Beatles White Album, but these summer albums would get me through the rest of that turbulent summer. The Beatles and Joe Namath would get me through the fall and winter.

Now we are off to the Summer of 1969.Summer Of 1969

In the world of music, the summer of 1969 can only bring up images of Woodstock.

Three days of peace, love, and music sprinkled with a bit of grass and brown acid that wasn’t particularly good. At least, that is what we would learn in the film and album that would come out the following summer.

But many would attend this festival in August of 1969.

I was not one of them.

At the time, the New York Jets were more important to me than attending any concert. Having beaten the Baltimore Colts on January 12, 1969, the Jets were now poised to play the New York Giants up at the Yale Bowl on a Sunday in August. It just so happened that it was the Sunday when hundreds of thousands would be listening to music up at Woodstock.

It would become one of those events that many would swear they had attended, but I was pretty content to say I had witnessed the first Jet-Giant game and one which the Jets had won.

Nevertheless, my summer had actually begun in May when I had completed my first year in college and returned to my summer job in the mailroom at P. Lorillard Corp. on 42nd Street in Manhattan.

To be honest, I would just as soon had stayed in the mailroom at the end of the summer the previous year and foregone going to college. I probably would have learned more. But I did survive that first year of college, even if I did not distinguish myself while doing so.

So, I was back in the mailroom and making money.

I had an economic plan now and could afford to spend ten bucks every payday on albums. Korvettes had a sale just about every week, allowing me to purchase three albums for around ten dollars.

I started by buying stereo versions of all my Beatle albums. The three that I listened to most were Rubber Soul, Yesterday And Today, and Revolver. I then added the Byrds Greatest Hits.

These got me through the first month or so of the summer. I would later purchase Blind Faith and Crosby, Stills, and Nash.

I then purchased the first Led Zeppelin album and became a fan of them as well.

Unlike the previous summer, my taste was growing more eclectic. I always listened to the Beatles, but I also loved the Byrds, and their Greatest Hits would prove but a dipping of my toe into their extensive library. Blind Faith, like Cream before it, was an amalgam of great talented performers with a unique style but who stayed with us for an all too short time.

Crosby, Stills, and Nash, however, brought us a great first album that would be followed up with continuous additions to the soundtrack of our lives.

Summer Of 1970

Purists may tell you that 1970 was the last year of the 60s. But, those of us who lived through 1968 and 1969 were happy to leave the 60s behind, and we greeted 1970 as the dawning of a new decade.

Unlike summers past, most of my musical delights were of more recent vintage. Having purchased the stereo versions of most of my must-have albums, I was now poised to focus on new or recently released albums.

The one exception to this was the Byrds.

Realizing that the Byrds Greatest Hits was a mere appetizer, the start of the Summer of 1970 began with the purchase of everything the Byrds had previously released.

I always thought Let It Be was one of the best Beatles albums, and I wore that album out in the Summer of 1970. It was released that spring but still remained on my hit parade for many months afterward.

One of the things that my friends and I used to do was venture into Central Park on Friday nights. First, we would go to the Sixth Avenue Liquor Store for a little Bali Hai and then peruse the sights of The Park.

On one of these Friday nights, our plans to go into the park were thwarted by a sudden cloudburst. We still went to the Sixth Avenue Liquor Store, but instead of drinking our wine in The Park, we opted to drink in a covered portion of a sidewalk cafe provided by the St. Moritz Hotel.

Realizing that the hospitality we assumed would be offered by hotel management was subject to change and revocation, we decided to vacate the cafe as we considered our options for the rest of the evening.

That summer, the film version of Woodstock had been released, so we decided to see it on this wet Friday night.

Well, it was like going to Woodstock.

We were wet in a mind-altering state. All that was missing was the mud, and we did not mind that at all.

The following week I went out to purchase the musical version consisting of three LPs, and it was an instant favorite that I would continue to listen to for quite a while.

Additionally, the Summer of 1970 provided us with Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young’s Deja Vu; Easy Rider, another soundtrack from the movie of the same name; Get Yer Ya-Yas out by the Rolling Stones as well as Their Satanic Majesties Request; and Melanie’s Candles In The Rain.

I should point out that, for the Summer of 1970 and the previous years, there were individual songs that have made my Summer Playlist, but I never had the albums on which they were released. The nice thing about iTunes is that you can purchase individual songs. Nevertheless, you might include many of these albums on your list, but I only included albums that I bought.

Summer Of 1971

In the Spring of 1971, I marched on Washington in protest of the war in Viet Nam. I wrote about that in an earlier post so, I won’t dwell on that. But music had been as crucial to the peace movement as other examples of the culture of the times.

But by the Summer of 1970, I was more interested in the love component of Peace and Love.

I am not sure if that change altered my taste in music. I certainly acquired a deeper appreciation of the music of that summer, especially as it culminated in the meeting of the girl who would be my wife for the last forty-five years. We met as the Summer of 1971 was nearing its end, and the music of that summer brings me back in time to that first encounter with Eileen.

Aqualung provided my introduction to Jethro Tull. Having bought this album in the Summer of 1970, I later purchased quite a few other examples of Ian Anderson and the boys of Jethro Tull. Four Way Street became an instant iconic presentation of Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young’s music. No sooner had I purchased this album, but Every Picture Tells A. Story by Rod Stewart and Faces was released. It contained so many great songs that still are pleasing to the ear fifty years later. Then Carly Simon released her first album, and I fell in love with her music even as she elicited some concern about love and marriage in her The Way I Always Heard It Would Be.

Then there was Cat Stevens. Moonshadow, Peace Train, and Morning Has Broken on Teaser and The Firecat, which were instant favorites.

Then after I met Eileen, she introduced me to his Tea For The Tillerman album and the Moody Blues’ Question Of Balance.

Music provides the Time Travel that only a Doctor Who fan can appreciate. A song can instantly bring me back to another time and place, and this is undoubtedly true for the albums that I have selected for this essay.

Other summers have their music, but I chose these years as they were a significant change in me personally. I was not the same person in the Summer of 1968 as I became by the Summer of 1971.

By the Summer of 1971, I became a more confident person thanks to the fact that I finally listened to my mother, who always urged me to read. Well, I did finally do what she advised and never stopped. Then, my friend PJ, who, during a drinking session at Fordham University’s Ram Skeller, encouraged me to follow his diet. I did, and in a few short months, my transformation was achieved.

I was reading and looking good at the same time.

I like to think that the music of these Summers brings me back to the days of my Epiphany and helps me deal with the changes of life facing this seventy-one-year-old man.

Peace and Love, everybody.

2 Responses to Summertime Words Of Love

PJ says:
May 30, 2021 at 9:38 am
“Sidewalk dining before its time”—— with no food, if I remember correctly! Great stuff.
Reply

section6rowh says:
May 30, 2021 at 11:19 am
But Bali Hai was plentiful 😄
- Reply

The Newell Post

Pardon Me If I’m Repeating Myself

Posted on June 15, 2024 by section6rowh

What Is A Father? What Is A Dad?

FEATURED

I wrote this a few years ago to commemorate Father’s Day. I wrote…A Father is the guy…

I have updated this today and changed it to A Dad is the guy…

It’s a clarification that needed to be made. Any man can be a father but it is the blessed ones who become Dads. So, for all of you who are Dads or were fortunate to have a Dad, Happy Dad’s Day.

A Dad is the guy who took you to your first Yankee game and sat you in the Bleachers because that was where Mickey Mantle played.

A Dad is the guy who just couldn’t wait until December 25th to give you your first set of Lionel Trains and so he gave them to you in October.

A Dad is the guy who that same Christmas gave you your Santa Fe diesel three days before Christmas.

A Dad is the guy who didn’t get you those Mouseketeer Ears you wanted so badly but came home with the most beautiful red two-wheeler you ever had in your life.

A Dad is the guy who didn’t always give you what you wanted but made damn sure you got everything you needed.

A Dad is the guy who never uttered a profanity in his life until that day you went missing, and he had to search the neighborhood looking for you.

A Dad is the guy who answered ‘steak’ to the question ‘What’s for dinner?’ that you yelled to him up at the window when he was calling you in for dinner because he didn’t want the neighbors to know we were having meatloaf.

A Dad is the guy who took you to Ferry Point Park on evenings after he worked all day and then had to flag every fly ball that went to the opposite field he was playing.

A Dad is the guy who couldn’t tune a ukulele without breaking a few strings but could sing Ain’t She Sweet like no body’s business.

A Dad is the guy who made a weekend without electricity the most magical weekend of a kid’s life.

A Dad is the guy who was called The Tasheroo Kid and never explained what that meant.

A Dad is the guy who didn’t know the definition of a sick day.

A Dad is the guy who saw you sleeping on his living room floor and went out and bought a sofa bed the next day.

A Dad is so much more than all the things I have listed, and I am only one of his five children, and if you have been blessed with such a Dad, then you have been truly blessed, indeed.

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D-Day 81

Posted on June 6, 2024 by section6rowh

Eighty-one years ago in the European Theater of Operations in World War II thousands of insanely brave men accosted the shores of France at Utah Beach and thus began the end of the Nazi empire.

Back at home, there were no debates about whether this was the right thing to do. No one questioned the President’s motive in ordering the attack. No revisionist historian had yet pondered the dramatic loss of life and whether such sacrifice was prudent. It was a different America. No one was going to apologize.

I thank God for that.

Where would we be in this country, in this world, had these brave men not thrown themselves on the beach that day in 1944? Maybe we would not have prevailed in World War II? Maybe we would be goosestepping our way through life hating everything and everyone not Arian? Maybe the world economy would consist of Nazi Germany and a militarist Japan?

Remembering those that put their lives on the line for us this day seventy-five years ago is the least we should do today.

That was a time of American heroes when partisan politics had not brought our government to a grinding halt. It was a time when no one would dare question the integrity or patriotism of the American President.

For his part, FDR would never have praised Hitler or Hirohito and insult Churchill. Then, after the war, Truman stood up to Stalin and helped recreate Europe.

The only wall erected was built by the Russians.

It was a much different time.

Years later, when the war in Viet Nam was dividing our country, setting us up for today’s division, you could not argue with a World War II vet about the war. Although many were reluctant to speak about their experience, they never questioned the legitimacy of the war nor their duty to answer the call to defend this country.

It was a much different time.

These heroes possessed an undying faith in their country, in their President, in their religion. There may have been atheists among them, but they didn’t openly mock believers as you often see today on cable news and even commercials supporting atheism. Believe or don’t believe, just don’t mock. It’s so unAmerican.

Growing up in the 1950s included the continuity of faith in our country. It was demanded of us though never a word had to be spoken. It was just taken for granted that you supported our nation. When the USSR threatened us with annihilation as Kruschev banged his shoe at the United Nations, President Kennedy was respected even by those disagreeing with him.

It was a much different time.

Perhaps on this one day, we can put our political and cultural hostility behind us so that we can focus on the heroes who assaulted the beaches of Normandy to ensure our freedom to disagree.

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It Was Sixty-One Years Ago Today…

Posted on February 9, 2024 by section6rowh

I was thirteen years old.

I was in the eighth grade.

But I can remember this day as if it were yesterday. (Which is a pretty good thing because I have a hard time remembering yesterday.)

It was a Sunday, and the day began as most Sundays did back then. I got up for the 10 o’clock mass and joined a few hundred of my fellow students at Blessed Sacrament Church to sing the mass in Latin. But my mind was not on singing the Kyrie or Credo, but instead, I Want To Hold Your Hand, and She Loves You.

The Beatles had surpassed the Gregorian Chant in all of our music listening and singing preferences.

The Beatles landed at the newly named JFK International Airport (formerly Idlewild) on Friday and were going to appear on the Ed Sullivan Show on Sunday night. The joy and excitement that the Beatles brought with them from England allowed many Americans to forget their grief suffered at the hands of the Assassin in Dallas.

I always thought I Want To Hold Your Hand was a metaphor for what the Beatles did for America that bleak winter.

All that my friends could talk about during the weeks leading up to their American visit, which continued long after they returned home to England, was the Beatles.

Who is your favorite Beatle?

What is your favorite song by the Beatles?

Everyone had an opinion.

Some scoffers mocked their haircuts and unfavorably compared them to American singers like Elvis. Still, eventually, they all came around and marveled at their music and realized that Beatlemania was not hype or a product of mass marketing (whatever that was) but just a phenomenon worthy of the greatest rock and roll band ever.

Of course, in 1964, no one could have predicted just how big and influential the Beatles would become. We just loved them in the moment, and listening to I Want To Hold Your Hand, Please Please Me, All My Loving, and Twist And Shout suspended time and made a lasting impact on how we would view the world.

The funny thing is I think The Beatles were as surprised as we were.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged beatles, john-lennon, music, paul-mccartney, the-beatles | 2 Comments

A Long, Long Time Ago Redux

Posted on February 3, 2024 by section6rowh

This is a birthday card for my daughter, Jeannine. I wrote it for her a few years ago, and I have shared it every year on her birthday, and I do so again. Since the first time I shared this post, she has had two beautiful boys who have brought joy to our family. So, once again, Happy Birthday, Jeannine.

The Day The Music Died?

February 3, 1959, was a day I will forever remember. I can still see my brother Mike and me watching our Mother prepare breakfast. I cannot tell you what the weather was like. If there was snow on the ground, I could not tell you. What I do remember, though, is listening to the green Zenith radio that was up on the shelf over our refrigerator.

In those days, my Mother would often have on a rock and roll channel. It would be years later that she would turn to listen to Rambling With Gambling. So, back in 1959, she was probably listening to Herb Oscar Anderson or someone like him. On that particular day, it did not matter what channel you had tuned into or who the DJ or radio host was. That day it was all the same news and music. Buddy Holly had died, and that is all we heard that day. Even as an eight-year-old, I saw the irony in his most recent recording that every station was playing. ‘It Doesn’t Matter Anymore,’ written by Paul Anka, just about summed up the feeling of that day.

We also heard that Ritchie Valens and the Big Bopper had died as well in the same airplane crash as Buddy Holly. Twelve years later, Don McLean would refer to this day as The Day The Music Died. While music most certainly did not die that day in February, it was never the same. I am not sure what impact The Big Bopper would continue to have on the course of music, but Buddy Holly and Ritchie Valens would surely have continued to provide terrific music and, no doubt, to inspire new artists and bring new innovations to rock and roll. It is not coincidental that The Beatles recorded ‘Words Of Love’ in deference to Buddy Holly’s contribution to music.
Twenty-Five Years Later
Now, it is February 3, 1984. Eileen and I are expecting our second child. The plan was that we would go to the hospital that Monday, February 6th, for the birth of our child. That taught me a lesson. There are some things you can plan and some that you cannot.

It was a Friday evening. We had a nice dinner, and I was just about to put a fire on and watch the Winter Olympics. No sooner had I had the logs in the hearth than Eileen called out from the bathroom that we would need to go to the hospital instead. My first reaction was to push my way into the bathroom and take a shower. To this day, I cannot fathom why I thought it necessary for me to be showered and shampooed. I guess I was recalling when Sean was born and that it was going to be a long night/day.

Now we had made plans with friends to take care of Sean on Monday, but they were nowhere to be found. So, we called our friend’s mother, who promptly drove over and picked up Sean. Eileen and I then made our way to Southampton Hospital. Upon arriving at the Hospital, Eileen’s doctor came in, shaking his head, saying, “I thought we agreed this was going to happen Monday. I was just about to watch the ice skating competition.” I told him I was too, but that at least I did get my shower in.

We then made our way to the OR room, and I got the chance, again, to sit next to Eileen as our baby was being born. (Let me tell you, that’s the type of sex education we need in our schools.)

The birth of your child is always amazing. One minute, she wasn’t there, and the next, she was. Before that minute had elapsed, however, we named her Jeannine. It was 9:30 PM.

She was a sight to behold. A beautiful round face trimmed with a wisp of reddish hair. We always thought she would be a redhead like her mother. The maternity nurse took her and got her ready for her crib, and then both of us walked Jeannine up to her room. Eileen was in recovery and would join us later.

When we got to the room, the nurse asked me if I wanted to hold her. So, I picked her up out of the little crib and took her in my arms. She turned her head up to me, and I swear she looked me right in the eyes. I think she was a little miffed for being disturbed while she was napping. She had a look, and I also think she was eying me up, wondering what her fate would be with this big doofus that was holding her. Her eyes were wide open and deep blue, her lips were puckered, and the nose that I would spend most of her early years stealing and hiding was as cute as could be.

It was then that I first sang ‘You’re Sugar….” but it was by far not the last time.

Happy Birthday, Jeannine.

Though the music may have died back in 1959, it was resurrected in 1984.

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All In Favor Say “AI”

Posted on January 13, 2024 by section6rowh

Heuristic Algorithmic Computer or, as we more lovingly remember him, HAL was created by Arthur C Clarke in his book and Stanley Kubrick’s classic movie, 2001: A Space Odyssey. I say HIM referring to HAL because even in the liberated 60s, women were having a hard time getting a good job in the tech world.

Every time I hear or read anything about Artificial Intelligence, I think the AI must really refer to Anti Intelligence. Surely, we have better uses for supercomputers than devising schemes to dupe would-be consumers into purchasing nonexistent products or helping a Nigerian Prince get his money out of Nigeria (which, to be fair, preceded AI).

Scarier attacks have surfaced, including scams to bilk you out of thousands of dollars by ransoming a loved one who phones you and sounds just like your child begging you to pay these people so that he or she can be released.

AI is used to create these voices that sound so real you would run to the bank to save your child. First, there was the Deep Fake that used trumped-up (sorry, couldn’t resist) videos of people doing and saying things that never happened. No wonder our nation has a hard time defining the truth.

Hal warned us that we were on the road to technical disaster, but we didn’t take heed.

After all, growing up in the 50s, we all believed that by 2001, there would be colonies on the moon and that a trip to Saturn or Jupiter would only require a transfer from the moon, much like transferring buses at West Farms in the Bronx from the 36 to the 20. Sadly, we are still waiting for the transfer.

Space travel and even Earth travel are much the same as they were in 1969 when we landed on the moon. If anything, Earth travel is worse as often the wait in the airport is longer than the flight you’re hoping to take.

Never thought about Deep Fakes or the horrors of AI; I mean, even Isaac Asimov had his Three Laws of Robotics in his I Robot series. The Cliff Notes version of Asimov’s laws simply states that Robots cannot injure a human or allow a human to be injured.

I realize that’s a lot of government regulation for some of you, but when AI strikes, you’ll wish there was a robotic McGruff Crime Dog to sic on the techno-miscreants.

Don’t get me wrong I still have great hope that AI can turn the corner and provide valuable service to a world teetering on collapse.

Re-creating circa 1980 ABBA holograms appearing live in concert is probably a good thing, well, better than a kidnapping ruse. And I might have resorted to ChatGPT when I had those three term papers due the same day when I was in junior year, but I think even my professors would have approved rather than reading the typo marred drivel I submitted for their reading pleasure. But no harm, no foul, as they say.

We just might be a little better off with less tech.

But then I would just be writing to myself (which just might be better for you all.)

Happy Saturday!

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The Eve’s Eve

Posted on December 30, 2023 by section6rowh

The year is racing towards its end, and how do you feel about that?

I decided to say goodbye to 2023 today as I will be tied up watching The Honeymooners on DVD (I’m living in Florida, and we are culturally deprived, not having WPIX to remind us of our traditions.)

I used to play a game with myself by trying to remember New Years Eves past. There was a time when I could revel in the memories of 15 to 20 past celebrations of transitioning to a new year, but sadly, those days are gone.

It’s not so much that the recall power of those memories has been lost with old age but more attributable to the sheer boredom of most recent Eves, thereby making them unmemorable in the first place.

Even before moving down to Florida, we hardly rejoiced in the recognition that one year was ending while a new one blossomed before our eyes…big whoop, as they say.

Nevertheless, I probably shouldn’t dwell on the dramatic fall from excitement and celebration that my Eves have undergone. After all, do we really need to drink to excess, eat to excess, wear funny hats, and blow tin horns to signify the planet and its passengers getting older?

Auld Lang Syne, or for old time’s sake, is the spirit behind ushering in the new year with a celebration of the past year. What we must remember is that we don’t necessarily have to go to Times Square (although everyone should experience New Year’s Eve there at least once in your lifetime.) or watch the Big Eye in London erupt in a flurry of fireworks at the stroke of midnight on December 31st. A more controlled festivity can be enjoyed by sitting in a comfortable chair with family and loved ones.

This, after all, is what makes surviving the past year in order to welcome the new year a tradition worth savoring.

Now that I think of it, the memory of these Eves really is more worthy of my recollection.

Happy New Year Everyone!

Love.

Peace.

Joy

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The Bell Still Rings For Me

Posted on December 23, 2023 by section6rowh

Why do so many of us mock belief in Santa Claus?

Is it because he represents the personification of the Christmas Spirit?

It should be no surprise that belief in Santa Claus is relegated to the pre-school age of our population. After all, belief in God has begun to share this trait of mature non-belief.

Yet, not only is Evil a recognized force in our world, but we have no trouble identifying its personal representatives. The problem is we recognize too many messengers of Evil and hardly any ambassadors of the Divine Spirit.

Oh, we have millions of would-be ambassadors of Goodness, but we gaze upon them with a jaundiced eye and see only hypocrisy instead of the spiritual. And this is not just an American problem, as the whole of Europe is facing a crisis of faith in organized religion.

So, my question is, why can we see Evil in all its forms but not recognize Goodness in our midst? Has Goodness escaped our grasp, or have we grown insensitive in our ability to discern its appearance?

I do not think Goodness has abandoned us; it is more likely that we have grown incapable of seeing it. We can blame cable news for dwelling on the Evil in our world, but we are the ones who blindly acquiesce to its constant transmission of hatred and disdain for whatever political point of view they have decided sells more ad space.

As we draw closer to Christmas day, it is time for us to consider our interactions with Goodness and abandon the lies of political agendas.

Here is one of my favorite interactions with Goodness ( AKA Santa Claus) that I experienced back in 1986.

At that time, Eileen and I had two children, Sean and Jeannine.

Sean had been sick with a cold for a few days and could not tolerate the oral application of his much-needed medicine. Our GP was a nice man but so overwhelmed with elderly patients that he hadn’t the time to spend with us to adequately provide an effective care plan for Sean. Eileen and I went home with Sean but were at a loss as to what to do next for Sean.

Well, I was at a loss, not his mother and nurse.

Eileen got on the phone and called a pediatrician who lived in our town.

I forgot to add that it was Christmas Eve.

As soon as Eileen explained to the doctor what had been going on with Sean, he told her to take him to the hospital, where he would meet us.

True to his word, our new doctor was there waiting for us and admitted Sean to the hospital. Sean was placed on an IV drip of the same medication that had previously caused Sean stomach distress. The only problem was that Sean would have to remain in the hospital overnight.

So, Eileen and I did what any responsible parents would do…we lied to Sean and told him Christmas would be the day after next. This was easy to do as no other children in the hospital could pierce our veil of lies and deceit.

We did have one problem that was quickly addressed.

Santa approached Sean’s room, but we quickly yelled and intercepted him. Poor Santa was stunned at our response but completely understood that we lied to our son about Santa not coming for two days and why.

Later that afternoon, as Sean was watching TV, there was a commercial for a Thunder Tank, a toy from one of the superhero shows that Sean liked.

“I hope Santa will bring me that on Christmas.”

When Sean said this, I looked at Eileen, and she shook her head. We then went out of Sean’s room for a consult, and Eileen said she had been to Toys R Us and Childworld, and neither store had a Thunder Tank.

Eileen then recommended that I go out and get Sean a Happy Meal at the local McDonald’s and see if any local toy stores had a Thunder Tank.

I had just gotten paid, left the bulk of my money with Eileen, and took just enough cash to get Sean’s dinner.

Before I got to McDonald’s, I stopped at one of the two toy stores in town, but I didn’t even get out of the car as the store had just closed for the holiday. I proceeded to get the Happy Meal, but I really wasn’t happy at all.

On my way back to the hospital, I passed the second toy store and noticed it was still open. Nevertheless, I had little hope that my quest for a Thunder Tank would prove successful.

When I entered the store, I did something that I very rarely do. Rather than search the shelves on my own, I asked a clerk if they had a Thunder Tank. She replied that they indeed had one, and it was right behind me.

I turned around and felt like Bob Cratchet when he got a raise from Scrooge!

I began to tell the young clerk about Sean and spending Christmas Eve in the hospital, etc.

As I did so, I pulled out my credit card to pay when the dream of my Christmas Present was dashed by Marley’s Ghost as the clerk asserted, “Sorry, sir, but we don’t take credit cards!!!!!”

All I could think of was all the cash waiting for me in the hospital, waiting to be spent, and too far away to go and get it as the store would be closed before my return.

I was devastated.

If you saw Sean’s eyes when he saw that commercial, you would completely understand.

The clerk was upset, too, but could offer no solution.

Just then, Santa Claus appeared.

She was dressed as an elderly woman, the longtime owner of the toy store. She asked what the problem was, and the clerk advised, “This man wants to buy this toy for his son, who is in the hospital, but he only has a credit card.”

(Here comes the Miracle Of Christmas 1986.)

Santa Claus, AKA the woman who owned the toy store, said, “We’ll just send you a bill, and you can pay by check when you get it.”

I said, “What did you say?”

This went back and forth a few times before I understood what was happening.

I made a point of visiting this store every Christmas Eve for several years and would retell this story to anyone who had the misfortune of standing next to me. I was determined to be the apostle of the Christmas Spirit to testify to the Goodness of people and contradict the naysayers who deny the existence of God and His/Her agents, bringing Christmas cheer to a world so desperate for cheering up.

Yes, EJ and Nolan there is a Santa Claus, but sometimes she wears a dress.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged christmas, movie, movies, review, santa-claus | 4 Comments

Infamy At 82

Posted on December 7, 2023 by section6rowh

If we still remembered History, we would know the poignancy of the word infamy.

Those of us who are boomers cannot hear or read the words without thinking of FDR’s speech following the sneak attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941.

Nearly thirty-four years later, I was sitting in the endzone of Shea Stadium for a game between the Jets and the Patriots. Joe Namath would throw three touchdowns en route to a 36-7 rout of the Patriots, but this is not what I remember of that day.

During halftime, all those in attendance were asked to honor the Emperor of Japan, Hirohito, and give a rousing Jet welcome. I’m not sure if we were asked to give a rousing Jet welcome or not, but we did clap and cheer somewhat.

Hirohito was Emperor of Japan during World War II and, of course, on December 7, 1941.

At the time, I was in the middle of my graduate degree in American History, and I could not help but think that there were probably a few people in the stands who had fought in World War II or lost loved ones during the war, perhaps even in the Pacific Theater of Operations.

Nevertheless, we cheered out of respect for an ally.

How far we had come in our forgiveness and understanding of a man who had once been our enemy.

It was a fascinating lesson in global politics and something I have always remembered. It is something we should never lose sight of when we determine any nation is our enemy.

Indeed, it is a lesson that we should all ponder in our age of polarization and division. People who disagree with us are not our enemy. People who disagree with us may hold opinions for which we have no tolerance but that doesn’t mean we should be intolerant to the people who hold such ideas.

Hate the idea, perhaps, but not the person. Leave a little doubt in the absolute righteousness of your opinions and try to understand the opinion you despise.

Posted in Uncategorized | 1 Comment

I Was Thirteen

Posted on November 22, 2023 by section6rowh

Anyone alive that day and still with us remembers precisely where they were and what they were doing when they heard the news.

Though the term was not applied to the event at the time, it was indeed America’s first mass shooting.

One person lay dead, and nearly two hundred million were seriously wounded.

It was the end of an era.

It was the beginning of the end.

Nothing was ever the same afterward.

Life went on, but not the life that a thirteen-year-old had imagined.

Life was not perfect the day before, but any chance at a more perfect union bled out in Dallas on this day sixty years ago.

It wasn’t that President Kennedy was perfect, but he was inspirational to many despite his flaws.

Sister Margaret was our eighth-grade teacher in Blessed Sacrament, and I can still see the shock seemingly frozen onto her countenance when our Principal, Sister Irene Mary, announced that our President had been assassinated. It may have mirrored my own disbelief and that of my classmates.

When you’re in the eighth grade, you don’t necessarily understand the meaning of transformative events. But on this day in 1963, we all knew that America would never be the same.

We knew that hatred was the culprit responsible for killing our President even if we hadn’t fathomed how extensive this hatred permeated the country. The day before, we were still living in postwar America and had forgiven our enemies and the atrocities they had committed.

So, how could hatred have replaced forgiveness?

So, how can forgiveness be restored in a nation that loves to hate?

The wounds of November 22,1963, continue to fester and have been passed down in our nation’s DNA.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and many of us have so much for which we should be thankful. Maybe it’s time to celebrate Forgiveness Day and bring gifts of love and understanding in lieu of pumpkin pies and cranberry sauce?

It’s just a thought.

Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments

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