Childhood - TV Memories

Hopefully all of us had that sweet-spot time in our lives when we retained the joy of the insular and innocent phase of early childhood, yet were old enough to begin to view and appreciate the larger, mature world around us with an inquisitive sense of wonder. I place this time in my life at approximately ages 7 to 12, which dates approximately 1974-1979. 


For most at the time, the singular most accessible vehicle for entertainment (beyond ourselves) was television. VCRs were only an amazing bit of expensive technology on the horizon for the general public and cable TV was just a fantasy for those of us who lived outside the largest 30 American television markets. I look back at this being a fairly fortunate time to be watching TV, because it seems the looming 'threat' of cable programming to over-the-air TV made for some interesting gambles by the big three networks.


One particular show comes to mind and evidence of its popularity and influence on TV shows remains to this day. I refer to the pseudo-talent contest know as The Gong Show. Short of listing a synopsis and history of the show, which can be found numerous other places on the internet, I merely note the sheer fun and frivolity that occurred on the show as a standard but in particular a recurring bit known as Gene Gene the Dancing Machine.
  
Often thrown into the show at 'spontaneous' moments, the crowd would go wild and other cast members joyfully played along with the popular and special bit that had almost nothing to do with the contest format of the show. Gene was a stagehand whose wonderfully simple dancing, positive demeanor, and 'everyman' appearance eventually became popular enough to become a requested and regular feature on the show. 


The pure fun that this segment brought (at a time when economic and post-Vietnam War woes had the USA in a bit of a funk) was a welcome respite and elevated Gene to celebrity status.  I wish to thank Chuck Barris and Gene for brightening those darker days of the late-70s. Only recently did I find that, sadly, Gene lost both legs in 2001 to complications from diabetes. I am all the more thankful that we can relive that fun space in time via YouTube.


Without further ado, I present Gene Gene the Dancing Machine...

An Open Letter to the Ownership and Executive Adminstration of Hulman and Company

Dear Board of Directors - Hulman and Company:

As a native Hoosier and lifetime Indy 500 fan (primarily and Indycar Series supporter second despite them being close relatives), I track with great passion the sport's changes as how they may affect the Indy 500 first, and the remainder of the sport next. Mr. Tony George's resignation from the board is the final shovel of "not good" that has tipped the scales for me from optimist to pessimist regarding the future of IMS and the Indy 500.

This recent bit of news is troubling to me, because I am optimistic by nature, but I now have an insurmountable fear that no one is left who has the passion, vision, and desire to carry it forward in a manner which allows it to not merely survive, but thrive. Surely, your privately-owned, family business must realize it has generations of a vast public who personally identify with (and in some cases even gave their life for) this event, it's history, and the grounds. The staggering popularity of The 500 and it's history certainly are evidence of that. I understand I own precisely 0.00% of the company's stock however I am mentally and emotionally invested in the place which is worth more than a little.

From this meager platform, I ask the board to please give us, loyal 'lifers' some sort of idea what the heck your plan is for this place.

It is yours in ownership.  It is also mine in heart and soul.  Understand me, your loyal fan, and do NOT toy with it.  What I bring to you shows up as positive numbers on your Balance Sheet if that is all you understand.

If you can understand the above, then understand these concerns:
- Who will be the passionate visionary to energize and elevate this place?
- Who among you is dedicated to the 500 to your very core?
- Who will be the talisman with tireless diligence to an entity whose value as a national treasure is far greater than the sum of its parts.
- Who is next?

You will note that I do not address the 'How' or 'What' is next, but 'Who' is next.  This is by far the most critical component in my opinion.

Who is next?

My concerns are growing, my patience wearing thin.

Instead of a lifetime of dedication from me (your most loyal fans), you must know that you have now relegated yourself to a year-by-year basis.

I strongly advise not screwing it up.

"I am not a role model"

In the wake of recent insinuations and allegations regarding Mr. Tiger Woods and his personal life, the "Where There's Smoke, There's Fire" crew have apparently been proven right.

I've recently recalled the Nike ad of the late 1980s in which 'Sir" Charles Barkley claimed "I am not a role model."  At the time I was a huge Philly 76ers fan (mainly because of my worship of Dr. J) and was both surprised and disappointed by the Sixers star forward's statement, as he seemed a perfect rags-to-riches, blue-collar candidate for hero worship.  It did cause a fair bit of discussion on the sports-related talk circuits as I recall.  Some argued 'yes' they are role models by virtue of their profession and privilege whether they like it or not, and others argued 'no' despite their self-promotion, professional athletes are still mere human beings.  In the end, as I recall, the general public was divided fairly evenly about this topic.

Now the squeekiest of clean athletes in recent times appears keen to apologize publicly for his "personal failings" which appear to be an obscured confession of what the media already appeared to surmise.

I am again surprised and disappointed at Tiger's apparent failings.  It makes me all the more certain now that Sir Charles was right - professional athletes are not role models.  As they are human, they are susceptible to many of the same issues dealt with by the general public and even issues about which the public doesn't have a clue.

It is often hoped by many that these people, who have extraordinary physical and mental talents, will somehow serve as a inspiration to the rest of us who would gladly exchange places with them, especially in regard to bank accounts.  We all seem to need some sort of guideline or example to follow to further our own lives.

To this I now must say, "bullshit".  Our lives belong to, and are the sole responsibility of us and no one else.  It is our own duty to be that example.

We all need to be our own heroes.  
We need to place high value and regard on the things that really matter in life - love, honesty, fairness, empathy.
We need to be the ones who try our best each and every day.

We need to discount the things which so often are promoted as valuable.  When Tiger's ability to hit a golf ball, or Britney's ability to sing and dance, or Robert Downey's ability to portray a fictional character is more highly valued than their ability to be the best father/mother/person they can, something is profoundly wrong.

I appeal to direct your hero worship to those who truly deserve it: those who work hard and with great personal sacrifice to provide for loved ones; those who've accomplished much with few resources; those who get up each day to help or protect others before themselves; those who place the good of the whole before the good of the individual; those who do what they can to make their own worlds better - little by precious little.
These are the true heroes of today and they are people you likely see everyday.

These are the people that deserve your ultimate respect and whom you should emulate.

These are the people who truly make a difference.

These are the people we should strive to be. 

Stuff those half my age don't know about.

I made an off-handed post similar to this once on Facebook and for some reason, and due to a recent special event (an 80s Prom at our local watering hole), I thought of it again for this blog.

A 21 year old's Compendium of Mysterious Terms...
Betamax, Intellivision, Leaded or Unleaded?, That's bogue", Commodore 64, Watergate, Love Canal, 3 Mile Island, "You Meathead!", Sea Monkeys, Pet Rock, Datsun, NOW, ERA, 'Ludes, Going to Betty Ford, Match Game, Pol Pot, Khmer Rouge, Ayatollah Khomeni, Khadafi, Sadat and Begin, AMC Gremlin, Rhodesia, Idi Amin, Billy Beer, Pele, Jonestown, Braniff, The Falklands,

annnnd there were only 4 channels on TV.

Dear 21-year-olds, please try to imagine a time when the things listed following were rare or didn't exist when I was your age: internet access, mobile phones, DVDs, CDs, portable computers, phones without cords, personal computers, cable TV, satellite TV or radio, and (gasp) credit cards.

I'd love to see the same list done for someone who is 84 or 63 to a 42 year old... I could probably do it with the help of the innernet and wikipedia... God bless the Innernet.

Fatalistic Endeavours

(music director, cue - Hurt, sung by Johnny Cash)

"I hurt myself last night, just to see if I could feel"...
No, I'm not suffering through a severe drug addiction to which the lyrics refer, and by no means am I trying to compare my latest incident with the severity of struggling with drug addiction, but by just muddling through the semi-mundane task of changing a light bulb, I hurt myself last night.

This is no ordinary bulb mind you. It's the one, single bulb in the house that requires bravery, faith, and aplomb. It's the one in the ceiling above the open stairway from the first to second floor. I hurt myself last night by managing to fall off the ladder. The results of my fall were spectacularly slight in regard to my physical injuries. I like to think it's because, at the moment when I realized i was going to fall, I attempted to jump backwards from the ladder back to the relative safety of the stair landing, just a couple of feet below my feet. The mental damage has yet to be fully assessed.

"What have I become?"...
Aplomb - Physical requirements are relatively small; set up ladder, climb ladder, remove old bulb, install new bulb, climb down ladder, consider celebratory beer. Growing up in a construction family, this is hardly uncharted territory.
Faith - The only significant variable (myself aside) in this scenario is the ladder's strength and capability. 350 pounds? I've yet to shed my 'winter coat', but I'm well under 60% of the ladder's load rating.
Bravery - To attempt this little feat, I will need to bravely conquer my fear of falling. Not fear of heights, but falling. Getting up in the air takes a little getting used to if you don't do it regularly, but I'm far from out of the realm of my experience here.

"Beneath the stains of time, the feelings disappear"...
After returning to upright following my failed attempt, I can say my confidence was well shook. I've never recognized those feelings in my physical self before. As a boy who grew up playing all kinds of sports, I feel I am acutely aware of the level of confidence in my physical skills and body control. My brain knows I can easily do this task, yet I managed to fall and injure myself. My psyche was in sudden conflict with the pain reports flooding in from various areas of my body. I seriously cannot believe what just happened.

What was the variable, the intangible, that conspired against me? My own lack of care apparently. The ladder I used was the telescoping kind which, when extended, relies on each segment to be fully locked out to become a solid climbing platform. At the time, I even noted some uneasiness (6th sense type of warning) despite having used this ladder several times with no ill effect.

Believing in my careful set-up, I apparently managed to have one segment not fully locked out. When loading it as I climbed up to the 6th rung, it began to telescope back into the next lower segment, albeit just a slight bobble/slide down of about 2 inches, but knowing how this ladder works, I knew the next motion would be a continued collapse of the lower segments and major injuries immediately following.

Projecting imminent failure of support, I immediately bailed off the ladder, with one foot slipping on the rung I attempted to jump from, throwing me off-balance and my left arm striking the square stair landing corner post directly on the funny bone nerve. Assorted bodily contacts with said ladder, railing, wall, who knows what else later, I ultimately grounded myself on the stair landing. I had fallen only approximately 24 inches, but the the instant pain and numbness shooting up my left arm from elbow to fingertips lead me to believe that I had broken something.

As is always wise during any type of fall, I fought the instinct to 'pop up' as if nothing happened. I lay there for a moment while my kids rushed from their second floor rooms to discover me face-up and grimacing on the landing. I assessed my left arm and quickly found it to be nothing worse than a hard, hard contact of the largest unprotected nerve in the human body, with the efficiently strong and equally sharp Oak stair rail post cap.

My injuries are slight, although still felt today and likely on through the weekend. But as I lay on the floor for that 20 seconds or so. I felt like an old, old man. 'Old' like coming to the realization that I may not be totally capable of doing everything I could do 20 years ago. 10 years ago. 5 years. 2 years. In that moment I felt inescapably 'over the hill'.

"If I could start again, a million miles away, I would keep myself, I would find a way"...
Now, a full 16 hours later, I am disappointed, hurt, thankful, regretful, sorry, resigned, angry, frustrated, and enlightened, all at the same time. Is this the seminal feeling of growing older and doing the inevitable 'downhill slide'? I don't like it. Not one... single... bit. I am now fearing an aging process that I will fight rather than embrace. I don't like this feeling and I don't like aging,

Goddamnitall.

Nostalgia and Change

OK, so we have our very own, brand spankin' new Funky President elected on a platform of 'Change'. Being contrary to the previous administration and party, very little more than the word 'Change' was all one needed, and it was an easy sell.

I've thought a fair bit about change on the more abstract level recently. Some if it started with something as benign as this: The landmark little Speedway Motel in which I stayed the night prior to one of the Top 10 best days of my life, is being razed. I found it odd how it seems like that day is years ago already. Just scant months beyond my single and greatest encounter with it and this little landmark of 50 years or so is suddenly gone.

In span of just a few months, things have changed alright. I don't know how anyone could argue otherwise. My mother-in-law and I were discussing a recent relative's death and the discovery of this person's diary. How great it was for those left behind to have that insight, that view into the recent and distant past. It allowed me to think of Change and another great memory I have.

Upon my first visit to NYC back in 1997, Lynne and I, in a moment of sheer spontaneity, went from the relative comfort of the glass observation level of the World Trade Center, to the roof observation platform. What I saw there on that gorgeous, sunny June day was truly eye-opening and amazing. The same could not be said for the similar view just one floor below and much less open. To be able to experience that again or to simply return there to relive the memories cannot happen.

People are gone. Places gone. Things gone. The only thing that can survive Change is memory. Curious images, words, and senses of things gone.

I've grown up and currently live in a place where relative little changes over time. Things on the surface seem to be in serious flux, changing rapidly and irreversibly. Logically, I suppose, that must be the nature of change, but it still seems to cause me some trepidation because there are so many cherished things that don't change, often deeply rooted in the past, that seem to pull back against change and make you question why change is so vital.

I guess Change is a universal constant that must always be met.

Change will provide birth, provide destruction, provide opportunity, provide newness, provide the ability to see nostalgia, provide the ability to lose the past, provide us with the never-ending and ever-shifting world in which we live. Change is equally welcomed and feared. Change will allow us as individuals and the collective world to move both for better and for worse.

I now see Change more neutrally. Neither positive nor negative. Equilibrium is the seeking to balance between forces. Nature always seems to seek Equilibrium, yet Change is the unstopping force that actively shifts matter, ideas, people, geography, money, wealth, climates, emotions...

Change is constant. Change is unavoidable. Memories need to be the stuff of forever. Remember and record even the smallest of things. Times and places that provided joy, pain, the greatest of highs, and the most desperate of lows. Jealously guard those memories of all, for better or for worse.

Store it and cherish it for it is our here and now, and, because before you know it, often in the blink of an eye, it will be gone. Do yourself and those who come after us a great service - experience life as it is each day, and when you're done, record it accurately for the benefit of the future.