Let's See Now.....

CAPTION: "Why are all those boys crying mommy?" "I'm not sure Sugar, but I'll bet it has something to do with that mean man."

I know this BLOGGING business can mean just about anything. As a LOG, why it oughta record significant events of an assigned day. But since there are no rules, why not use it once in a while to record fractured history.....events remembered.

Well I've had so much feedback telling the Narcolepsi story, I've decided to keep on this path of telling old media stories for a while. Here is one of the older ones. 

Whilst working in radio in Kansas back in the early 70's I stumbled on to this great opportunity in TV. A guy comes to town, Bob Sebby by name, and wants to be a weekend disc jockey. But his real mission in town is to set up the first Cable Local Orignination TV station. And in so doing it's part of his job to come up with local programming to serve the community.

As fate would have it Bob becomes my roommate. (Any of you considering careers in radio and TV? That first job in rural Kansas, or Arkansas, or Alaska?  You WILL need a roommate.) Well anyway with Bob a captive audience, I convince him we should start a little show for pre-schoolers called "Paul and the Little People."

Just so you know, at this juncture in life, I'd pretty much participated in pedagogy at almost all levels of education, sans PRE SCHOOL.

So I was a little taken back when on LIVE, one of my six pre-school stars stands up and proudly announces with magnificent volume and melifluous tone, "PAUL, I HAVE TO PEE. AND I HAVE TO PEE RIGHT NOW!"

Some things in life you just block out of your memory bank because you just don't want to remember how you solved a particular problem. That's the case here. I have no idea what we did on air while he was off peeing. Luckily in those early cable days local origination TV programming wasn't a really hot audience item.

A later event with "Paul and the Little People" does painfully stick in my mind. I wanted to spice up the show and so Bob and I decide to take the kids out to Rita and Doug's farm. (Rita is my cousin.)

There we would film the little whipper snappers getting their first experiences with farm beasts.

Well, the planned highlight of the shoot was to put all five of the kids who showed up that day on top a Shetland Pony. Cousin Rita suggested one or maybe two at a time would be good. No, I'm seeing all five of them up there at once.

(I don't know if Bob still has the film, but I can pretty much guarantee you it would pull down a prize on America's Funniest Home Video.)

Okay, I start the process, lifting the first pre-schooler up on top of, oh let's call him Shorty. So there is no saddle on Shorty. So once I get John-John up there I implore him to hang on to shorty's mane real tight.

Well John-John does pretty good while I'm hefting Rita's boy Matt up behind him. Pretty good means John-John  is slipping away from me in the slightest fashion. 

Okay, as I'm pulling him back to the starting position, Matt it now slipping towards me, or how do you say it, in the opposite direction?  But I'm young and agile. I pull the two together and implore Matt to hang on to John-John just as tight as possible.

This accomplished, I call for pre-schooler three. I get little Jimmy up there without a lot of difficulty, although the three of them are listing slightly toward port.

(Oh, Bob isn't a lot of help at this juncture because he's shooting. And Rita still can't believe I want all five of them up there.)

Up next is Robert. Well when I get Robert in place a new phenomenon crops up. Even though they are all hanging on to each other? John-John and Matt are now leaning East, and Jimmy and Robert are feeling the gravity pull of the West.  It takes all of my arm's lengths to avert disaster. But even averted, I'm starting to hear little whimpers. Okay let's get this over with, bring on little George.

Well George can't quite decide which way he is going to lean, but up straight is apparently not an option. So he just starts to fall like a rock off the other side? I run over there to the rescue him only to see Robert falling the other way. There just isn't enough agility on the planet for me to save the day.

You ever sit in the tub and have this little itty bitty sliver of soap left that you accidentally drop in the water?  Ever tryto retrieve that sliver? YOU GET THE PICTURE.

But I told you this would win a PRIZE on AMERICA'S FUNNIEST HOME VIDEOS!

Where did all these little Pre-School Wranglers land when the slid off Shorty? Right in the middle of this humungous sticker patch. The little whimpers of yore? Now we have bawling of immense proportions. I'm pretty sure they sent the heifers on the south 40 racing off in the opposite direction.

Me? Mercifully with help from Bob and Rita, it takes a about an hour to pull all the stickers one by one out of their little bodies.  They may still be bawling.

I think "Paul and The Little People" lasted maybe one more show?  Oddly about five years after that a Network series pops up calling itself, "Paul and The Little People."  

I used to put it on my resume that I hosted a TV show for pre-schoolers called "Paul and The Little People." But then people would ask what I did on that show.

I can still hear all five of them screaming at once. I still feel the guilt. I often wonder it the stickers left scars, of the skin and the soul.

Oh, well, now the truth as I recall it has been told. Bob Sebby is now some big Cable "Big Wig" in Omaha.  I hope he doesn't still have a copy of the film.  Bob?

Out Like a Lamb

CAPTION: "So what do you think we ought to feed the Reinertsons?"

 

We had dinner with Jeff and Janey at their house last night. Big Deal. We try to have dinner with Jeff and Janey at least once a year. You know typically it's women at this age that keep social relationships alive? And Peggy and Janey do have some tennis ties. But in this case its Jeff and I who are the driving force.  We've been friends since the mid 70's when we worked as journalists in the same market. On many levels our friendship just doesn't make sense.

I was reared a city boy, Jeff a country kid. My dad was a Los Angeles County fireman, Jeff's was the Morgan Country Sheriff. His life career choice drifted towards public relations, mine stayed with news.

(It's a little known truth that news people and pr people sneak out and have drinks after work in anonymous sleazy bars. You also find liberals and conservatitives consorting with each other in these same establishments. And believe it or not? Print and electronic journalists are often caught tipping a few together in back booths of these dens of iniquity.)

Anyway, Jeff and I have somehow been able to deftly hop around issues that should have, by all rights, divided us. What has kept the friendship going I think? It's true we've helped each other through some critical life changing events. But more important than that, I think, has been a mutual insatiable irreverance for just about everything on the planet.

Let me give you a for instance. I was once the Public Affairs Director for a radio station. In essence that means, in addition to news responsibililties, it was my job to get 7 hours of public affairs programming on the air a week. Let me tell you, that is no mean feat. It doesn't take very long at that rate to run out of non-profit organizations (FCC Regs at the time) with an intelligible spokesperson. So, and I'm not kidding here, I was not beyond chatting for a half hour on the air with the head of the American Cheese Association.

Now you always like to have something in the can (recorded) for those times when someone cancels, or there is a technical problem with a tape. Well that happened one week when Jeff was dropping by the station for lunch. I think he was working for the health department at the time.  Anyway, I blurt out my frustration to him saying I need a half hour with somebody right now. So we share a glance and a common spark is lit.

"What's an interesting health issue going on right now?"

"Narcolepsy."

"Think you could fake it?"

"Heck, yeah."

So Jeff became a sufferer of Narcolepsy,  and the Morgan County President of the Narcolepsy Society. In addition to nodding off a couple of times during our interview, we were able to incorporate his role as head of the selection committee for the Miss Colorado Beauty Pageant, which was in fact at the time, being held in  his county.  Jeff tells this wonderful story of the pain and embarrassment he suffers falling asleep during the Swim Suit competition. 

I can tell this story now for two reasons. First, the ownership of that station changed five times since that interview.And I now think the call letters have gone to the great alphabet in the sky.

But more importantly? Something came up and we never had (got) to run it.

This is one of those long routes to getting to any point. But two days before dinner, Jeffs calls and says , "I hope you guys like Lamb."

To be fair at this moment I'm thinking he is going to suggest some mideast eatery where you sit on a pillow and eat with your fingers.

"No we don't like lamb. Not the way most people cook it."

(To be fair to myself I had no idea at this juncture he was going to be the cook.)

Now I'm just guessing here, and this is not a judgement call, just an observation. If Peggy and Janey had been on the phone the conversation would have been loaded with careful probing and tap dance responses with no one wanting to hurt anyone's feelings. Jeff?

"Well I guess we'll have STEAK then."

Well as it turned out we had steak and lamb, and for the second time in my life, I liked the lamb. Yeah, Peggy and I both had some of both. That's it.

You know there may not BE a point to this story? I've been semi-retired for five years now. Jeff has joined me in that status this year. So I had hoped my brain would somehow tie this story into going "into retirement like a lamb, not a lion." 

Nope! It just is not going to happen.  Oh, well.  

I FEEL SO ALONE

CAPTION: "Round and round the Mulberry bush the monkey chased the weasel." 

 

Okay, I did my homework. It is not true the engineer who built one of this country's first traffic circles in Long Beach, California died in an accident in that circle. He'd designed it for getting to aquatic events in the 1932  L.A. Olympics. (Share that history with any developer who tells you he has this great new idea for traffic control in your neighborhood.) It's a little sad. It's always been such a wonderful urban myth for those of us who hate driving in circles.

I'm bringing this up because here in this state every developer and engineer with a protractor is dropping a traffic circle into our urban and suburban lives. You read the literature? Traffic circles slow traffic, reduce accidents, are friendly to pedestrians.

I'm sorry but this is TRULY  a case of WHAT GOES AROUND, COMES  AROUND. And I am NOT buying it.  I know there are people who've moved here form the East to get away from traffic circles ( Roundabout is the new fancy name).

Sorry guys. They never did really catch on in California, where it is actually codified into law to "EXPEDITE THE FLOW OF TRAFFIC." If traffic circles EXPEDITE the flow of traffic? California would have them, all kinds of them.

(I know that because I beat a traffic ticket in court with that argument once.)

Anyway, if you read most of the available literature on the damned things right now, they have come to save us from all our traffic sins. Where have I been?

I hate the things. Nobody I know knows how to use them. Nobody I know likes them. I am a nervous wreck getting into and out of them.  And I can't count the number of times I've missed my street because I was paying attention to the traffic instead of where I'm supposed to be going.

Well I just ran into one today...so I thought I'd share my frustration with you. If there is someone out there who loves them? Please stand up! I promise I'll keep it our little secret.

No Problem

CAPTION:  "My, just look at how you've grown!"

 

I mowed the lawn today. I don't want you to think this is the first time I've mowed the lawn. But the act today incorporates a unique observation I think. Thanks to the Sierra Club and the Environmental Defense Fund I'm overcome with guilt.

This has been a banner year for growth. The snow and rain and sleet and frost and hail all seemed to come at appropriate times. Despite a drought like atmosphere here now, the grass, etal, is as high as a Stegasauruses eye.

And right in the middle of the grass? It's a lilliputian mass of Aspen trees.  I had to make a  very tough heart rending choice. Who do I fear the most? Well I just wiped out an entire forest with my lawnmower. Forgive me environmental community. I'm sure I'll get an award from the Home Owners Association.

Speaking of guilt.  I think I'd have made a great mother. I've started this little random site weekend meeting with former students working in the media? Well only one showed up for the first one. Since that time I've had a host of emails begging my forgiveness.

"It's okay you guys, honest. I'll just sit here all by myself wondering if you're all okay. You've got your sunscreen on, don't you? And don't forget to brush your teeth."

Golly life is fun.

Are the Environmental Defense Fund cops licensed to carry weapons?

I SEEE you!

CAPTION: "Now class what does this picture tell us about the current health of Western economies.?"

 

I've been doing this long enough now I'm not sure when I slip into recidivism (repeated criminal behavior).  I have just a small brain synapse telling me I've already shared a portion of this story. If I have? Bear with me, because I've got some new thoughts on the issue.

We're walking in a supermarket parking lot. (Sorry no free mention.)  And I see someone seemingly talking to himself.

I'm thinkin' it was about 8 years ago? I found a company north of town that acquired some Google Earth type technology. They were also contracting with aerial photographers all over the World. Why? They were selling their end products to major retailers looking for new markets.  Huh? At least that's what I said. Huh?

Well instead of selling bird's eye perpectives to the CIA, their market was major retailers? Okay, here's the deal I was told. The pictures these guys wanted? Strip mall parking lots. Huh?

"So push in tight and give me a shot of that maroon vehicle in the front row by the Won Ton's restaurant."

"Is that a Minivan, or an SUV?"

"An SUV! Why?"

"Well they're building a regional mall down there and if that car is a Minivan?"

"Yeah?"

"Walmart."

"SUV?"

"Yeah?"

"Neiman Marcus."

"You are __________me!"

"Nope."

Orwell, Huxley, Nostrodomis?  We have arrived. Well just think how much the technology has advanced in 8 years. I'm thinking cars in the parking lots are no longer the bell wether. You know how almost everybody has a cell phone now? And almost everybody is talking on it all the time?

"Yeah?"

But only the well to do and willing  to go into massive debt are walking around talking hands free.  

"Ah, Ha! They're wearing Blue Tooths."

"Cell Phones?"

"Pennys!"

"Blue Tooths?"

"Nordstroms!"

"But let us hope these cameras have really been improved."

"Yeah?Why?"

"I'd sure hate to see a Blue Tooth and have it turn out to be a hearing aid. WHOLE different market."

Well I think we just have to succumb to their scheme. They've got the power. They are BIG BROTHER......or......

What if we all walked around with knock off BLUE TOOTHS  shipped in from China? Just a thought. Or are the real ones already made in China?

Whoa! Easy now!

CAPTION: "Okay now let's see that pretty smile."

 

I keep in touch with a lot of my former students just getting underway in their chosen careers. Lately I've been hearing some desperate concerns that some of them have yet to reach the pinnacles of their professions. Some wonder if they've made wrong choices and now face a life of senseless failure. Poppycock!

But you know something? It's not their fault. I'm mad at my generation of educators. We keep telling students they have to be dead serious about their futures and their careers. Why? Where's the fun in that?

Let's get personal. I'm back to teaching myself to draw and play the piano again. Both activities are full of self realization. I find myself turning to heaven based mentors for my growth.

The drawing? Picasso is my man! I've discovered that no amount of self training is going to teach me to draw accurate proportions, and some details.  Like the picture up there I just finished? She didn't look that bad until I decided to give her some teeth. I clearly don't do teeth. Picasso says I don't need to do teeth.

Piano? Give me that comic empressario Victor Borge. I've been noticing in that retrospective of Victor they keep showing on PBS? He never finishes a piece. He falls off his chair a lot, and sometimes plays with his feet. And he enjoys his performance immensely. THAT's ME!

I've been at this piano thing four months now, and have a repertoire of about 20 pieces? But none of them are more than 10 measures long. And I can play one of them with my knuckles. There will be no need for an intermission at my recital. You could work it in on a commercial break.

There isn't a huge point to this journal entry, but a point there is. I have no desire to be an heroic role model to younger persons. I just want them to know I've already survived changing careers seven times. And I've never allowed myself to stop being interested in trying something new. And I guess the most important adjunct to all this babble, is that I have no regrets, I've enjoyed it all.

Last school year the words came to me in a message I received in my sleep from Victor and Pablo. 

"UNLESS IT LEADS TO DEATH OR TEN YEARS TO LIFE IN PRISON? AT YOUR AGE (ANY AGE), YOU CAN'T MAKE A BAD DECISION?"

Well that's it. That's what I wanted to get off my pecs. (Oh, you need to know I was made to feel the same way at your age.) 

For the record? I'm going to keep working on teeth. But if they never come? Eh? So what!  

Grief Cracks Me Up!

CAPTION: "Let's see, where should I lay my little egg...hmmmm?"

 

Grief is an odd beast. It’s odd, maybe, because most of us don’t have to deal with it every day. One of its odd qualities is that of having the power to release every single emotion in its rawest form. Decorum be damned! And I remember the shock of discovering we are talking about EVERY emotion.

For those of you still waiting for your first dose, let me warn you. When you get done screaming at a wall? When you get done creating your lake of tears? You are likely to fall into a laughter seizure that may last for days.

And, oh, there is the sensitivity. You see, hear, and feel everything. If we grieved every day we’d all be artists. You want to hug EVERYONE! You find out you can draw, you begin thinking you can sing and dance. I imagine I can still do a one and half off the diving board? For the record? I cannot!

 

And you look for signs, omens, and reasons to carry on. Such was the case with my sister Theda. Coming home from the hospital the night her 41 year old daughter died, she was looking for some life symbol that would encourage her to carry on. Well, she steps inside her living room, and there, precariously perched on the mantle, is a wild baby bird just chirping away. That might have been something she'd have missed had she not been  grieving.

 

And here’s one for laughter. The funny thing (pun intended) is you start looking for things that are funny. Laughter beats crying. So Peggy and I are in Kinkos? (I’m still laughing. Stand by.) It’s hot and I’m a little cranky. We’re in a hurry and need to use their computer, printer and photo print maker in that order. The Latina Maiden operating the establishment lovingly senses my raw emotions. She jumps right into the fray HELPING me to save both time and money. And she does it all with a smile. I have to be honest with you. THIS type of encounter has never taken place for me in a KINKOS. I am so impressed I want to write the company to praise Evelyn Joaquin. So what do I say?

 

“Do you have your card?”

 

And what does she say as she reaches into an apron pocket?

 

“Do you mean my GREEN CARD?”

 

That does it. I am doubled over, laughing, half crying, dancing, singing, but mostly laughing. But, ah, we are not there yet.

 

As she is now laughing and dancing she holds up her GREEN CARD! Turns out Kinkos gives all its employees GREEN CARDS for operating all the machines.

 

So now we are both laughing even harder. I look over to see that Peggy, who hasn’t even heard this exchange, is now laughing by association. So we all get control of ourselves, get some receipts and then Evelyn pulls out her big gun.

 

“I do have the OTHER GREEN CARD if you’d like to see it.”

 

She hasn't even given us any recovery time.

Now I have to tell the story to everybody, and then laugh all over again.

 

I don’t know how funny that would have been without grief. But I’ll bet any one of you who’ve suffered a big loss are giggling right along with me.

So if you are ever in Arcadia, California playing the ponies at Santa Anita, and you need a good laugh? You just stop in at the Kinkos on Huntington drive and ask Evelyn Joaquin for her GREEN CARD.

 

So we’re back in Denver picking up the car at the airport? We pay our fee and look up simultaneously to see something strange under the windshield. You see it up there? It’s a bird’s nest, with an egg gently laid in its straw. MORE SIGNS OF LIFE! Isn't that odd?

Donna, sweet Donna

My niece DONNA physically left the planet this week. Her spirit, and memory of her, will never go away. She's admired and loved by thousands, taught thousands more. I've been reaching for words. Everytime I grab one I think, hey, am I in some kind of competition here?

Donna, if you can hear me through the roar of adulation, I love you too. Enjoy it up there. We sure enjoyed you down here.

If you're curious about Donna? Check out her web site one of these days...you might be sad, but you won't be sorry you dropped by:

 

http://thelogancrew.googlepages.com/home

Robin's Hood

CAPTION: "I'll just fly down behind this Air Conditioner and hide in the gravel.  Look, Mom, No Wings!"

 

Well my little Robin friend sat on the runway for five days.  I guess he just wasn't ready to leave the nest yet. But early this morning it happened. I DID in fact see his first flight.  It wasn't terribly impressive.

Now the little bespeckled guy is just hanging around the local bushes, while his folks feed him berries and bugs. This has been an amazing experience. I may have had this kind of observation time in the past, but I'm sure I've never taken advantage of it before.

I'll admit it. I've been totally compulsive about it. But I don't regret a frame I shot, or dive bomb I've dodged.  And even more important, I guess.  I got all this done without ever harming the little critter.

I think that's it. Back to whatever we call normal. But I'll be keeping my eyes out for bird's nests.

 

Patriot Games

The last time Peggy and I sat outdoors at sunset and watched fireworks wind came up and set hills all around us on fire. The night's excitement consisted of running for our vehicle and racing for safety. [Yeah, the fire department was in charge of the show.]

In intervening years we've just gotten ourselves a hotel room on a high floor and watched from a distance.

Well, I don't know what got into me. I nudged Peggy all day long Wednesday until she agreed to change our evil ways and join the throngs.

I'm so glad! 

 

Fourth day of July, I see Pike’s Peak, beer, brat, kraut, mustard, flag T Shirt, band, trike, bike, boom, boom, bassoon. There’s family, memory, pride, sacrifice, freedom, CLANG, CLANG, friendly F-16 flyover, tuba, march, kettle corn, blanket, shorts, torn shirts, blankets, camping chairs, babies, toddlers, kids, kids lost,  mommies, daddies, grand daddies, grand mommies, grand-grand-grand daddies, families of many shapes and sizes,  choir, “mine eyes have seen the glory,” may your bombs burst in air, sunset, mountains, face paint, smiles, chills, hugs, smiles, Goth , hats cowboy, baseball, balloon, and more. Kids, kids, kids, of all kinds and all minds, faces, brass, March some more, neighbors and not, imagination, dancing in dirt, and THEN: fireworks, FIREWORKS, KA BOOM, OH SIGHT AND SOUND. So much NOISE, so many COLORS, so many SHAPES, so COOL even when it’s HOT. I’m full and I only ate a brat-wurst, not to be confused with the wurst brat (kid) on the block.

 

A few lost kids, found, but no fires and some great picture memories.

What's all the FLAP

CAPTION: "Robin NewWing? You are cleared for takeoff on runway 25 right. Happy contrails."

It is fully winged, full of worms and ready to fly. I call it an IT 'cause Peggy says to know otherwise I'd have to tip it upside down.. NOT GONNA HAPPEN.

I'm going to get up early tommorrow to make sure I don't miss the flight. But no guarantees. Join me in wishing our no longer so little Robin....GOOD FORTUNE.

"BON VOYAGE ROBIN. MAY THE WIND ALWAYS BE AT YOUR BACK. (Toss any in of your own should you like.)"

"Oh, and don't be stupid like some of your brothers and sisters and go banging right into a window. To my knowledge bird aspirin has yet to reach the over the counter market. TWEET!"