A week before Christmas 1952, Burt's cousin Libby comes to his house after school. She's worried about things Burt was saying.
"Burt, I'm upset."
"Why? What's going on?"
"Some things you're saying frighten me."
"What are you talking about?"
"Like, first, Walcott is still the heavyweight champion. Then, the Dodgers won the World Series. And finally, Stevenson will be the next president of the United States. None of that is true."
"But, they should be. They're all the fair thing, right?"
"Well, maybe. But, that's not the point. They didn't happen and we have to accept reality."
"Why? Fairness is better. Life should be fair, shouldn't it?"
"It should be, but when it isn't, we have to accept it."
"Why? When things happen that aren't fair, it sucks. If we can change that, why not?"
"Because we can't change what really happens. Get used to it."
"I don't want to get used to it. I've had to live without a mother, you without a father. Isn't that enough? I've had enough reality. If we can change the world we live in, why not?"
"Sure, try to change the world going forward, but not create a different world in your head. That's crazy."
It's 25 years later, December 1977. Dear reader, we are at a psychiatric hospital where a doctor named Burt is talking to his patient, who coincidentally is also named Burt. They are discussing the same issues as the above Libby and Burt were doing back in 1952.
The doctor says, "Fighting against the constant tide of reality can be difficult and exhausting. My advice is this. Almost a thousand years ago, the French Jewish biblical scholar Rashi said, 'Receive with simplicity everything that happens to you.'"
THE END
Sunday, December 29, 2019
Sunday, December 22, 2019
Bernhard Goetz
Thirty-five years ago today, December 22, 1984 (a Saturday), Bernhard Goetz, a white, male 37 year-old New Yorker, boarded a downtown number 2 subway train at the 14th Street station in Manhattan. In the same car of the train and near where Goetz sat were four African-American male teenagers each of whom had a rap sheet (criminal record).
Shortly after Goetz entered the train, one of the teenagers, Troy Canty, asked him, "How are you doing?"
Goetz responded, "Fine."
Soon Canty and a second teenager, Barry Allen, got up from their seats and moved to block Goetz from the other passengers.
Then Canty said, "Give me $5."
Unbeknownst to both Canty and Allen, Bernhard Goetz (a victim of an assault in 1981) had on his person a 5-shot .38-caliber (unlicensed) revolver. He pulled it out and fired multiple shots at the four teenagers (which also included Darrell Cabey and James Ramseur), wounding them all.
After telling the train conductor that "They tried to rob me," Bernhard Goetz fled the scene. He went home, grabbed some things, rented a car and drove to New England where for eight days he stayed at a different motel, registered under a different name and paid with cash. On December 30th, Goetz turned himself into the police in Concord, New Hampshire.
Bernhard Goetz stood trial in Manhattan (April-June, 1987) on charges of attempted murder, first degree assault and criminal possession of a weapon (carrying a loaded, unlicensed gun in a public place). His lawyer (Barry Slotnick) argued that, "Goetz's actions fell within the New York State self-defense statute (a person may use deadly force if he reasonably believes another person is trying to rob him)."
Bernhard Goetz was only convicted on the weapons charge and was sentenced to a year in jail. He was released after eight months.
I along with the rest of New York was fixated with this event when it happened and during the subsequent criminal trial. About twenty years ago, the case came back to my attention when I sat in on one of my daughter Rachel's classes at the University of Pennsylvania Law School. I was a proud parent who listened attentively as her professor discussed the legal issues involved in the State of New York vs. Bernhard Goetz.
Shortly after Goetz entered the train, one of the teenagers, Troy Canty, asked him, "How are you doing?"
Goetz responded, "Fine."
Soon Canty and a second teenager, Barry Allen, got up from their seats and moved to block Goetz from the other passengers.
Then Canty said, "Give me $5."
Unbeknownst to both Canty and Allen, Bernhard Goetz (a victim of an assault in 1981) had on his person a 5-shot .38-caliber (unlicensed) revolver. He pulled it out and fired multiple shots at the four teenagers (which also included Darrell Cabey and James Ramseur), wounding them all.
After telling the train conductor that "They tried to rob me," Bernhard Goetz fled the scene. He went home, grabbed some things, rented a car and drove to New England where for eight days he stayed at a different motel, registered under a different name and paid with cash. On December 30th, Goetz turned himself into the police in Concord, New Hampshire.
Bernhard Goetz stood trial in Manhattan (April-June, 1987) on charges of attempted murder, first degree assault and criminal possession of a weapon (carrying a loaded, unlicensed gun in a public place). His lawyer (Barry Slotnick) argued that, "Goetz's actions fell within the New York State self-defense statute (a person may use deadly force if he reasonably believes another person is trying to rob him)."
Bernhard Goetz was only convicted on the weapons charge and was sentenced to a year in jail. He was released after eight months.
I along with the rest of New York was fixated with this event when it happened and during the subsequent criminal trial. About twenty years ago, the case came back to my attention when I sat in on one of my daughter Rachel's classes at the University of Pennsylvania Law School. I was a proud parent who listened attentively as her professor discussed the legal issues involved in the State of New York vs. Bernhard Goetz.
Sunday, December 15, 2019
Glenn Miller
Growing up in the 1950s, my exposure to music consisted mostly of listening to long-playing records of Broadway musicals my parents attended on their frequent trips to New York City. Some of these were Pajama Game, Can Can, Carousel, Wish You Were Here, South Pacific, Oklahoma and The Sound of Music. I still love this kind of music.
My brother Ted had his own record player that played 45 rpm vinyl records. And, he became enamored with the music of Glenn Miller, probably because of the 1954 movie, The Glenn Miller Story, starring James Stewart. For a time, all Ted played were Glenn Miller records.
The songs Ted played over and over and over again included Moonlight Serenade, In The Mood, Little Brown Jug, Indian Summer, Tuxedo Junction, Pennsylvania 6-5 Thousand and Chattanooga Choo Choo. After hating these records at first (because Ted played them incessantly), I grew to appreciate the music. Thanks, Ted.
Glenn Miller was born in Clarinda, Iowa on March 1, 1904. During his senior year in high school, he became interested in "dance band music." Upon graduation, Miller decided to become a professional musician.
In the late 1920s and early 1930s, Glenn Miller played the trombone for several different bands. In the mid-1930s, he performed as a trombonist, arranger and composer for the Dorsey Brothers, a famous jazz band of that era.
In 1938, Glenn Miller moved to New York with the intention of starting his own band and creating his own unique sound. He succeeded.
In a 1939 interview, Miller stated, "We're fortunate in that our style doesn't limit us to stereotyped intros, modulations, first choruses, endings or even trick rhythms. The fifth sax, playing clarinet most of the time, lets you know whose band you're listening to." When you hear his music, you know it's Glenn Miller.
For the rest of his life, Glenn Miller enjoyed professional success and great popularity. In 1942 (during World War II), he joined the US military to "be placed in charge of a modernized army band."
On December 15, 1944 (75 years ago today), Glenn Miller flew from an airfield in England bound for Paris to make final arrangements to move his band there. His plane disappeared while over the English Channel and was never found.
Glenn Miller was 40 years-old, the same age as another great musician/composer, John Lennon (see blog post of the same name), who also died a violent and untimely death. It is interesting to note that Glenn Miller was an American who died flying from England, while John Lennon was an Englishman who died in the United States.
My brother Ted had his own record player that played 45 rpm vinyl records. And, he became enamored with the music of Glenn Miller, probably because of the 1954 movie, The Glenn Miller Story, starring James Stewart. For a time, all Ted played were Glenn Miller records.
The songs Ted played over and over and over again included Moonlight Serenade, In The Mood, Little Brown Jug, Indian Summer, Tuxedo Junction, Pennsylvania 6-5 Thousand and Chattanooga Choo Choo. After hating these records at first (because Ted played them incessantly), I grew to appreciate the music. Thanks, Ted.
Glenn Miller was born in Clarinda, Iowa on March 1, 1904. During his senior year in high school, he became interested in "dance band music." Upon graduation, Miller decided to become a professional musician.
In the late 1920s and early 1930s, Glenn Miller played the trombone for several different bands. In the mid-1930s, he performed as a trombonist, arranger and composer for the Dorsey Brothers, a famous jazz band of that era.
In 1938, Glenn Miller moved to New York with the intention of starting his own band and creating his own unique sound. He succeeded.
In a 1939 interview, Miller stated, "We're fortunate in that our style doesn't limit us to stereotyped intros, modulations, first choruses, endings or even trick rhythms. The fifth sax, playing clarinet most of the time, lets you know whose band you're listening to." When you hear his music, you know it's Glenn Miller.
For the rest of his life, Glenn Miller enjoyed professional success and great popularity. In 1942 (during World War II), he joined the US military to "be placed in charge of a modernized army band."
On December 15, 1944 (75 years ago today), Glenn Miller flew from an airfield in England bound for Paris to make final arrangements to move his band there. His plane disappeared while over the English Channel and was never found.
Glenn Miller was 40 years-old, the same age as another great musician/composer, John Lennon (see blog post of the same name), who also died a violent and untimely death. It is interesting to note that Glenn Miller was an American who died flying from England, while John Lennon was an Englishman who died in the United States.
Sunday, December 8, 2019
The Night God Died
In 1958, while preparing for my bar mitzvah, I was committed to the Jewish religion. I even thought about becoming a rabbi. It seemed like a good job.
I believed in God. It made sense. How could this amazing world exist without one?
Parallel to my religious activities was my family life, which was dominated by my mother, a very controlling person. She had rules that had to be obeyed without question or argument. I found this to be extremely frustrating. Like a tea kettle has a spout to let off steam, I needed one, too. But, I didn't.
Rarely, I reached a point in which I blew up, had a temper tantrum. They were always at home and I was allowed to act out until I calmed down on my own. But nothing changed. The rules remained and they had to be followed, without recourse. (Bill Gates had a similar problem with his mother. They went to therapy. We didn't.)
One night, and I don't know how I got there, I found myself in the sanctuary of the Congregation Adath Israel on East Third Street in Oswego. I was older, in high school, and fed up with the regimentation I was facing from my mother. I couldn't stand it anymore. I was literally standing in the dark pleading for God's help. There was no reply.
Eventually, my father came to take me home. I realized it was hopeless. Nobody was listening to me. There was no God.
A few years later, I escaped, left home for college. I finally gained freedom from the prison of my mother's restrictive rules.
While at Penn, I came across the French writer Voltaire who said, "If God did not exist, it would be necessary to invent him." That I could relate to.
I believed in God. It made sense. How could this amazing world exist without one?
Parallel to my religious activities was my family life, which was dominated by my mother, a very controlling person. She had rules that had to be obeyed without question or argument. I found this to be extremely frustrating. Like a tea kettle has a spout to let off steam, I needed one, too. But, I didn't.
Rarely, I reached a point in which I blew up, had a temper tantrum. They were always at home and I was allowed to act out until I calmed down on my own. But nothing changed. The rules remained and they had to be followed, without recourse. (Bill Gates had a similar problem with his mother. They went to therapy. We didn't.)
One night, and I don't know how I got there, I found myself in the sanctuary of the Congregation Adath Israel on East Third Street in Oswego. I was older, in high school, and fed up with the regimentation I was facing from my mother. I couldn't stand it anymore. I was literally standing in the dark pleading for God's help. There was no reply.
Eventually, my father came to take me home. I realized it was hopeless. Nobody was listening to me. There was no God.
A few years later, I escaped, left home for college. I finally gained freedom from the prison of my mother's restrictive rules.
While at Penn, I came across the French writer Voltaire who said, "If God did not exist, it would be necessary to invent him." That I could relate to.
Sunday, December 1, 2019
The French Connection
The French Connection is a 1971 police action film, produced by Philip D'Antoni, directed by William Friedkin and written by Ernest Tidyman. It starred Gene Hackman, Roy Scheider, Fernando Rey and Tony Lo Bianco.
The French Connection was nominated for 8 Academy Awards, winning 5: Best Picture (D'Antoni), Best Director (Friedkin), Best Actor (Hackman), Best Adapted Screenplay (Tidyman) and Best Film Editing (Gerald G. Greenberg). Scheider was nominated for Best Supporting Actor, which was won by Ben Johnson in The Last Picture Show (see post: The Real Ben Johnson).
Filmed on the streets of New York City, The French Connection is the story of police detectives Popeye Doyle (Hackman) and Buddy Russo (Scheider). One night while having drinks at the Copacabana nightclub, they notice Sal Boca (Lo Bianco) at a table with known criminals involved in narcotics. Doyle and Russo follow him when he leaves.
Boca stops for an early breakfast at Ratner's, a Jewish kosher dairy restaurant at 138 Delancy Street in the East Village. This scene caught my attention as my family and I went to Ratner's often. Our favorite dishes were cherry cheese blintzes and kasha varnishkes. Ratners operated from 1905 until it closed in 2002.
Believing a shipment of heroin would soon arrive in New York, Doyle gets a warrant to wiretap Boca. Through this, he learns the heroin is coming from France.
Alain Charnier (Rey), French drug kingpin, convinces his TV personality friend, Henri Devereaux (Frederick de Pasquale), to hide the heroin in his car (a Lincoln) which is going to cross the Atlantic to New York via a cruise ship.
Realizing Charnier is the key to catching the criminals with the heroin, Doyle follows him through the streets of Manhattan before losing him on a subway car (the Grand Central Station Shuttle to Times Square).
Charnier's hit man (Marcel Bozzuffi) unsuccessfully tries to assassinate Doyle near his apartment at the Marlboro Housing Projects off Stillwell Avenue in Brooklyn. At the time, my ex-wife Bonita worked as a teacher in a day care center nearby.
Doyle (in a commandeered Pontiac Le Mans) then chases the assassin (who was on an elevated B subway train) through 86th Street in Bensonhurst. It was "one of the greatest car chase sequences in movie history." After the train crashes, the assassin escapes the subway car but is shot (in the back) by Doyle while trying to flee.
Eventually, Doyle and Russo discover the heroin hidden in Devereaux's car, but leave it there. Later, Charnier drives the car to an old warehouse on Wards Island to sell the drugs to Boca and his associates. Doyle and a large police unit also arrive, killing Boca in a shootout and arresting the others, except Charnier, who somehow disappears without a trace. However, he reappears along with Doyle in the sequel of The French Connection.
The French Connection was nominated for 8 Academy Awards, winning 5: Best Picture (D'Antoni), Best Director (Friedkin), Best Actor (Hackman), Best Adapted Screenplay (Tidyman) and Best Film Editing (Gerald G. Greenberg). Scheider was nominated for Best Supporting Actor, which was won by Ben Johnson in The Last Picture Show (see post: The Real Ben Johnson).
Filmed on the streets of New York City, The French Connection is the story of police detectives Popeye Doyle (Hackman) and Buddy Russo (Scheider). One night while having drinks at the Copacabana nightclub, they notice Sal Boca (Lo Bianco) at a table with known criminals involved in narcotics. Doyle and Russo follow him when he leaves.
Boca stops for an early breakfast at Ratner's, a Jewish kosher dairy restaurant at 138 Delancy Street in the East Village. This scene caught my attention as my family and I went to Ratner's often. Our favorite dishes were cherry cheese blintzes and kasha varnishkes. Ratners operated from 1905 until it closed in 2002.
Believing a shipment of heroin would soon arrive in New York, Doyle gets a warrant to wiretap Boca. Through this, he learns the heroin is coming from France.
Alain Charnier (Rey), French drug kingpin, convinces his TV personality friend, Henri Devereaux (Frederick de Pasquale), to hide the heroin in his car (a Lincoln) which is going to cross the Atlantic to New York via a cruise ship.
Realizing Charnier is the key to catching the criminals with the heroin, Doyle follows him through the streets of Manhattan before losing him on a subway car (the Grand Central Station Shuttle to Times Square).
Charnier's hit man (Marcel Bozzuffi) unsuccessfully tries to assassinate Doyle near his apartment at the Marlboro Housing Projects off Stillwell Avenue in Brooklyn. At the time, my ex-wife Bonita worked as a teacher in a day care center nearby.
Doyle (in a commandeered Pontiac Le Mans) then chases the assassin (who was on an elevated B subway train) through 86th Street in Bensonhurst. It was "one of the greatest car chase sequences in movie history." After the train crashes, the assassin escapes the subway car but is shot (in the back) by Doyle while trying to flee.
Eventually, Doyle and Russo discover the heroin hidden in Devereaux's car, but leave it there. Later, Charnier drives the car to an old warehouse on Wards Island to sell the drugs to Boca and his associates. Doyle and a large police unit also arrive, killing Boca in a shootout and arresting the others, except Charnier, who somehow disappears without a trace. However, he reappears along with Doyle in the sequel of The French Connection.
Sunday, November 24, 2019
The Year 1952, Chapter 17
On Tuesday, November 4, 1952, Americans go to the polls to elect the next president of the United States to succeed Harry S. Truman, who decided against running for re-election.
Republican candidate General Dwight D. Eisenhower receives over 34 million popular votes (55%) as compared to the 27 million (45%) for the Democratic candidate, Illinois Governor Adlai Stevenson.
However, as we know, popular votes do not directly elect a president. Eisenhower wins 39 states giving him 442 electoral votes, far more than the bare majority he needs to be elected under the US Constitution.
Stevenson wins only 9 states (West Virginia, Kentucky, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana and Arkansas) and 89 electoral votes.
Obviously, Harvey is ecstatic with the result. Eisenhower is the first Republican president in 20 years, since Herbert Hoover.
On the other hand, Burt is glum. But, maybe all is not lost.
Burt turns on the TV. NBC commentator John Cameron Swayze reports that, as a result of his tremendous victory in Monday night's presidential debate, Stevenson garnered 266 electoral votes, the bare minimum necessary to win. He will be inaugurated as the next president on January 20th, 1953. Now Burt is ecstatic.
Republican candidate General Dwight D. Eisenhower receives over 34 million popular votes (55%) as compared to the 27 million (45%) for the Democratic candidate, Illinois Governor Adlai Stevenson.
However, as we know, popular votes do not directly elect a president. Eisenhower wins 39 states giving him 442 electoral votes, far more than the bare majority he needs to be elected under the US Constitution.
Stevenson wins only 9 states (West Virginia, Kentucky, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana and Arkansas) and 89 electoral votes.
Obviously, Harvey is ecstatic with the result. Eisenhower is the first Republican president in 20 years, since Herbert Hoover.
On the other hand, Burt is glum. But, maybe all is not lost.
Burt turns on the TV. NBC commentator John Cameron Swayze reports that, as a result of his tremendous victory in Monday night's presidential debate, Stevenson garnered 266 electoral votes, the bare minimum necessary to win. He will be inaugurated as the next president on January 20th, 1953. Now Burt is ecstatic.
Sunday, November 17, 2019
The Heidi Game
Heidi is a novel written by Swiss author Johanna Spyri in 1881. It is the story of a young girl (Heidi) raised by her grandfather in the Alps Mountains.
The novel was made famous in the US when a movie version (Heidi) starring nine year-old, superstar Shirley Temple was produced by Darryl F. Zanuck in 1937.
More than thirty years later, the National Broadcasting Company (NBC) made another version of Heidi for television, starring Jennifer Edwards. It was scheduled to air on the network Sunday night, November 17, 1968 (51 years-ago today), at 7 PM Eastern Time (and 7 PM Pacific Time).
Three hours earlier that same day (on the east coast), NBC began broadcasting an American Football League game between the New York Jets (7-2) and the home team, the Oakland Raiders (7-2). The expectation was that the game would finish no later than 7 PM (on the east coast). Three hours would be sufficient. Or was it?
The two quarterbacks, Joe Namath (Jets) and Daryle Lamonica (Raiders) combined for 31 incomplete passes which stopped the game clock. The game officials called a total of 19 penalties which stopped the game clock. Each team used their full allotment of three time-outs each half which stopped the game clock. Each of the 11 touchdowns and 4 field goals scored stopped the game clock.
The combined effect the above clock stoppages resulted in the game having approximately one minute of playing time remaining when the clock at NBC struck 7 PM on the east coast. The Jets were leading, 32-29. But, the Raiders had the ball on their own 22 yard line.
NBC then abruptly pulled the plug on the game and started showing their Heidi movie. Thousands of football fans on the east coast who had been watching the very exciting Jets-Raiders football game were outraged. Many called the network and other media outlets to angrily complain.
Luckily, I was living in New York and immediately turned off the TV and turned on the local radio broadcast of the football game to hear the final minute of play. Shortly afterwards, Lamonica threw a 43 yard touchdown pass to Charley Smith giving Oakland a 36-32 lead with still 42 seconds left. Could New York come back?
The Jets Earl Christy received the kickoff, but fumbled the ball. The Raiders Preston Ridlehuber recovered and ran into the end zone for another touchdown. Final score: Raiders 43, Jets 32.
Since The Heidi Game, it has become standard practice among all networks broadcasting sporting events to show them to their conclusion before turning to other programming. Thanks!
The novel was made famous in the US when a movie version (Heidi) starring nine year-old, superstar Shirley Temple was produced by Darryl F. Zanuck in 1937.
More than thirty years later, the National Broadcasting Company (NBC) made another version of Heidi for television, starring Jennifer Edwards. It was scheduled to air on the network Sunday night, November 17, 1968 (51 years-ago today), at 7 PM Eastern Time (and 7 PM Pacific Time).
Three hours earlier that same day (on the east coast), NBC began broadcasting an American Football League game between the New York Jets (7-2) and the home team, the Oakland Raiders (7-2). The expectation was that the game would finish no later than 7 PM (on the east coast). Three hours would be sufficient. Or was it?
The two quarterbacks, Joe Namath (Jets) and Daryle Lamonica (Raiders) combined for 31 incomplete passes which stopped the game clock. The game officials called a total of 19 penalties which stopped the game clock. Each team used their full allotment of three time-outs each half which stopped the game clock. Each of the 11 touchdowns and 4 field goals scored stopped the game clock.
The combined effect the above clock stoppages resulted in the game having approximately one minute of playing time remaining when the clock at NBC struck 7 PM on the east coast. The Jets were leading, 32-29. But, the Raiders had the ball on their own 22 yard line.
NBC then abruptly pulled the plug on the game and started showing their Heidi movie. Thousands of football fans on the east coast who had been watching the very exciting Jets-Raiders football game were outraged. Many called the network and other media outlets to angrily complain.
Luckily, I was living in New York and immediately turned off the TV and turned on the local radio broadcast of the football game to hear the final minute of play. Shortly afterwards, Lamonica threw a 43 yard touchdown pass to Charley Smith giving Oakland a 36-32 lead with still 42 seconds left. Could New York come back?
The Jets Earl Christy received the kickoff, but fumbled the ball. The Raiders Preston Ridlehuber recovered and ran into the end zone for another touchdown. Final score: Raiders 43, Jets 32.
Since The Heidi Game, it has become standard practice among all networks broadcasting sporting events to show them to their conclusion before turning to other programming. Thanks!
Sunday, November 10, 2019
Beat Bush
In the summer of 2004, while my son Bret was home from his first year at the University of Maryland in College Park, I was in New York as well. While he got a job caddying at a private golf course on Long Island, I found one working for the Democratic National Committee in lower Manhattan.
While everyone knew Republican President George W. Bush would run for re-election, his Democratic opponent was yet to be determined at the time of my hiring in early June. It wasn't until the last week in July that Massachusetts Senator John Kerry won the nomination.
My job consisted of soliciting campaign contributions on the streets of Manhattan. Every morning all solicitors would be placed in teams of around four and told where to go to collect money. Our slogan before we had a candidate was "Do you want to Beat Bush?"
It was not a voluntary position. As I recall, we received some kind of minimum wage plus a percentage of the amount we collected. The contributions could be in the form of cash, check or credit card. I discovered that my daily success was really determined by where they sent me. My best days were when I was placed on the upper west side of Manhattan.
My favorite memory of this experience was eyeing the actor Richard Dreyfuss walking along the streets of New York. While I took a lunch break, he had been solicited by one of my fellow team members. When I returned, my fellow-solicitor told me about it and I regretted my bad timing. However, later, Dreyfuss again walked past our location.
Not able to solicit him a second time, I quickly thought of something clever to say. I blurted out, "I loved Moon Over Parador (a 1988 comedy Dreyfuss made in Brazil with Sonia Braga)." He stopped in his tracks for a second or two, responded "Good!" and then walked away without looking in my direction.
My worst memory of that time was when I asked a not so well dressed man on Broadway if he "wanted to beat Bush." Of course we were used to a lot of rejection. However, this guy responded in a very hostile way, "Do you want me to beat you?"
His manner conveyed he was not playing with a full deck. He started walking towards me with an angry expression, making threats. I looked to my teammates for help, but they ignored me. I was on my own. I kept backing away, trying to assuage him. I think, at last, he got tired of me and continued on his way. After that, I was more careful whom I solicited.
While everyone knew Republican President George W. Bush would run for re-election, his Democratic opponent was yet to be determined at the time of my hiring in early June. It wasn't until the last week in July that Massachusetts Senator John Kerry won the nomination.
My job consisted of soliciting campaign contributions on the streets of Manhattan. Every morning all solicitors would be placed in teams of around four and told where to go to collect money. Our slogan before we had a candidate was "Do you want to Beat Bush?"
It was not a voluntary position. As I recall, we received some kind of minimum wage plus a percentage of the amount we collected. The contributions could be in the form of cash, check or credit card. I discovered that my daily success was really determined by where they sent me. My best days were when I was placed on the upper west side of Manhattan.
My favorite memory of this experience was eyeing the actor Richard Dreyfuss walking along the streets of New York. While I took a lunch break, he had been solicited by one of my fellow team members. When I returned, my fellow-solicitor told me about it and I regretted my bad timing. However, later, Dreyfuss again walked past our location.
Not able to solicit him a second time, I quickly thought of something clever to say. I blurted out, "I loved Moon Over Parador (a 1988 comedy Dreyfuss made in Brazil with Sonia Braga)." He stopped in his tracks for a second or two, responded "Good!" and then walked away without looking in my direction.
My worst memory of that time was when I asked a not so well dressed man on Broadway if he "wanted to beat Bush." Of course we were used to a lot of rejection. However, this guy responded in a very hostile way, "Do you want me to beat you?"
His manner conveyed he was not playing with a full deck. He started walking towards me with an angry expression, making threats. I looked to my teammates for help, but they ignored me. I was on my own. I kept backing away, trying to assuage him. I think, at last, he got tired of me and continued on his way. After that, I was more careful whom I solicited.
Sunday, November 3, 2019
Heat
Al "Sonny" Pacino was born on April 25, 1940 to Italian American parents in East Harlem, but grew up in the same neighborhood in the Bronx as my boss at Seagram's, Howard Miller. Al attended the High School of Performing Arts and the Actors Studio.
Robert De Niro, Jr. was born on August 17, 1943 in Manhattan. His father, Robert De Niro, Sr. was of Irish and Italian descent. Junior was raised by his mother in Greenwich Village and Little Italy. He dropped out of high school at sixteen years-of-age to pursue acting. He also attended the Actors Studio.
In 1985, both Pacino and De Niro appeared in the crime drama film Heat, which was written, produced and directed by Michael Mann. Pacino portrays Lt. Vincent Hanna, a LA police detective, while De Niro's character is Neil McCauley, a professional thief.
Vincent investigates the robbery of an armored truck committed by Neil's gang. One of Vincent's informants connects one of the gang to the robbery. Vincent's police team then surveils the gang member. They realize Neil is the leader of the gang and is planning another caper. What it is, they don't know.
In an interesting twist, Vincent stops Neil on a highway and invites him for a cup of coffee. Below is the dialog from a portion of the resulting priceless scene between two great actors.
Vincent: Seven years in Folsom, in the hole for three. McNeil before that. McNeil is as tough as they say?
Robert De Niro, Jr. was born on August 17, 1943 in Manhattan. His father, Robert De Niro, Sr. was of Irish and Italian descent. Junior was raised by his mother in Greenwich Village and Little Italy. He dropped out of high school at sixteen years-of-age to pursue acting. He also attended the Actors Studio.
In 1985, both Pacino and De Niro appeared in the crime drama film Heat, which was written, produced and directed by Michael Mann. Pacino portrays Lt. Vincent Hanna, a LA police detective, while De Niro's character is Neil McCauley, a professional thief.
Vincent investigates the robbery of an armored truck committed by Neil's gang. One of Vincent's informants connects one of the gang to the robbery. Vincent's police team then surveils the gang member. They realize Neil is the leader of the gang and is planning another caper. What it is, they don't know.
In an interesting twist, Vincent stops Neil on a highway and invites him for a cup of coffee. Below is the dialog from a portion of the resulting priceless scene between two great actors.
Vincent: Seven years in Folsom, in the hole for three. McNeil before that. McNeil is as tough as they say?
Neil: You looking to be a criminologist?
Vincent: You looking to go back? I chased down some crews, guys just looking to get fucked up, get busted back. That you?
Neil: You must have worked some dipshit crews.
Vincent: I worked all kinds.
Neil: I am never going back.
Vincent: Then, don't take down scores.
Neil: I do what I do best. I take scores. You do what you do best, trying to take down guys like me.
Vincent: So, you never wanted a regular type life?
Neil: What the fuck is that, barbeques and ball games?
Vincent: Yeah.
Neil: This regular type life, that your life?
Vincent: My life? No. My life's a disaster zone. I got a stepdaughter so fucked up because her real father's a large type asshole. I got a wife, but we are passing each other on the down slope of a marriage, my third, because I spend all my time chasing guys like you around the block. That's my life.
Neil: A guy told me one time, don't let yourself get attached to anything you are not willing to walk out on in 30 seconds flat if you feel the heat (the police) around the corner. Now, if you're around me and you got to move when I move, how do you expect to be a keeper of a marriage?
Vincent: That's an interesting point. What, are you a monk?
Neil: I have a woman.
Vincent: What do you tell her?
Neil: I tell her I'm a salesman.
Vincent: So, that if you spot me coming around that corner, you're just going to walk out on this woman? Not say goodbye?
Neil: That's the discipline.
Vincent: That's pretty vacant.
Neil: It is what it is. It's that or we better go do something else.
Vincent: I don't have anything else.
Neil: Neither do I.
Vincent: I don't much want to either.
Neil: Neither do I.
Vincent: You know, we're sitting here, you and I, like a couple of regular fellows, you do what you do, I do what I gotta do. And now that we been face to face, if I'm there and I gotta put you away, I won't like it. But I'll tell you if it's between you and some poor bastard whose wife you're gonna turn into a widow, brother, you are going down.
Neil: There's a flip side to that coin. What if you do got me boxed in, then I got to put you down. Because no matter what, you will not get in my way. We've been face to face, yeah. But I will not hesitate, not for a second.
Vincent: Maybe that's the way it will be.
Neil: Well, maybe we'll never see each other again.
Sunday, October 27, 2019
The Year 1952, Chapter 16
Burt eagerly awaited Governor Stevenson's Korea response.
"Let's talk sense to the American people. Peace is far more important than who wins this election. Let's talk sense about what we have gained by our determination, our expenditures and our valor in Korea.
We have proven that communism can go no further unless it is willing to risk world war.
We have proven to all the peoples of the Far East that communism is not the wave of the future, that it can be stopped.
We have helped to save the peoples of Indo-China from communist conquest. We have smashed the threat to Japan through Korea and so have strengthened this friend and ally. We have discouraged the Chinese Communists from striking at Formosa.
We have trained and equipped a large army of South Koreans who can assume a growing share of the defense of this country.
We have blocked the road to Communist domination of the Far East and frustrated the creation of a position of power which would have threatened the whole world. We have asserted that whenever Communist soldiers choose freedom after falling into our hands, they are free.
My opponents say that America cannot afford to be strong. I say that America cannot afford to be weak. I promise no easy solutions, no relief from burdens and anxieties, for to do this would not only be dishonest, it would be to attack the foundations of our greatness.
I can offer something infinitely better: an opportunity to work and sacrifice that freedom may flourish. For, as William James truly said, 'When we touch our upper limit and live in our own highest center of energy, we may call ourselves saved.'
I call upon America to reject the new isolationism and to surpass her own glorious achievements. Then we may deserve to call ourselves the sons of our fathers."
Burt was not disappointed.
"Let's talk sense to the American people. Peace is far more important than who wins this election. Let's talk sense about what we have gained by our determination, our expenditures and our valor in Korea.
We have proven that communism can go no further unless it is willing to risk world war.
We have proven to all the peoples of the Far East that communism is not the wave of the future, that it can be stopped.
We have helped to save the peoples of Indo-China from communist conquest. We have smashed the threat to Japan through Korea and so have strengthened this friend and ally. We have discouraged the Chinese Communists from striking at Formosa.
We have trained and equipped a large army of South Koreans who can assume a growing share of the defense of this country.
We have blocked the road to Communist domination of the Far East and frustrated the creation of a position of power which would have threatened the whole world. We have asserted that whenever Communist soldiers choose freedom after falling into our hands, they are free.
My opponents say that America cannot afford to be strong. I say that America cannot afford to be weak. I promise no easy solutions, no relief from burdens and anxieties, for to do this would not only be dishonest, it would be to attack the foundations of our greatness.
I can offer something infinitely better: an opportunity to work and sacrifice that freedom may flourish. For, as William James truly said, 'When we touch our upper limit and live in our own highest center of energy, we may call ourselves saved.'
I call upon America to reject the new isolationism and to surpass her own glorious achievements. Then we may deserve to call ourselves the sons of our fathers."
Burt was not disappointed.
Sunday, October 20, 2019
Europe plus Israel 1973
After our trip across the USA in 1972 (Drive to California), my ex-wife (Bonita) and I decided to return to Europe in 1973. We had spent a month there two years earlier (Europe 1971). Besides Europe, our trip this time would take us to Israel.
We began with a KLM flight from JFK to Amsterdam. After arriving at Schiphol Airport, we took a train downtown.
I quickly learned the train station is located in their "red light" district. Walking the narrow sidewalks next to a canal, I noticed a woman sitting in front of a large picture window wearing only a flimsy negligee. I thought this woman had no shame until I noticed a similarly clad woman a few doors down. A bell then went off in my head.
Instead of vendors selling hot dogs as in New York, Amsterdam's street vendors sold pickled herring, a delicacy I learned from my father. They were delicious and cheap. I ate a lot.
We took a tour of the city and discovered that, unlike Texas that boasts how large everything is, Amsterdam boasts how small everything is. We also visited the Van Gogh Museum, the Anne Frank house and took day trips to Rotterdam and The Hague.
From Amsterdam, we took an overnight train to Copenhagen, Denmark, which made a stopover in the middle of the night in Hamburg, Germany. I was sound asleep in our compartment when I was awakened by a loud speaker in the station shouting, "achtung, achtung." It reminded me of the scene from Casablanca when the Gestapo told Parisians how to behave when German troops would march into the city.
Copenhagen is the cleanest city I have ever been in. There were waste baskets everywhere so there was no excuse to litter. There seemed to be pastry shops (real Danish pastry) on every block. I recall sitting in a beautiful park eating some pastry being careful not to make a mess.
Our landlady expressed disappointment we were not black. At the time, since you didn't see any in Denmark, they were a curiosity.
We spent at least one evening in Tivoli Gardens. Another day we took a boat ride to Malmo, Sweden.
From Copenhagen, we took a train to Berlin, at the time a divided city. We entered from the east to get to our destination, West Berlin. Before arriving, our papers were carefully checked on the train by East German officials. Outside the train, heavily-armed police and dogs checked the exterior to make sure nobody escaped hiding there.
West Berlin reminded me of New York, a bustling, vibrant, modern city. One day we traveled across Checkpoint Charlie back to East Berlin. From there we could see American and East German/Soviet soldiers pointing guns at each other from opposite sides of the wall that separated the two halves.
East Berlin looked like a ghost town with gray buildings and few pedestrians. We saw an East German soldier goose stepping in front of a Soviet war memorial marking the communist victory over the Nazis in 1945.
When we returned to West Berlin, we first had to go back through East German immigration. Bonita's American passport was returned quickly. Mine, much longer. I was nervous I was going to be in East Berlin more than I wanted. Eventually, my passport came back and we got the hell out of there.
From Schonefeld Airport in East Berlin, we took a charter flight to Tel Aviv in Israel. After landing, we stayed overnight at a hotel where the receptionist was watching a Hebrew dubbed version of the popular American TV show, Hawaii 5-O. Tel Aviv is a very secular Jewish city. Every where you look, there are Jews. Coming from a world where Jews were a minority, it was fascinating for us to be there.
The next day we took a bus to Jerusalem, staying in an Arab hotel near the Damascus Gate of the ancient walled portion of the city. Passing through the Gate, we walked the narrow streets with no visible names, finding a variety of shops selling goods with no price tags. Bargaining was expected.
Bonita was looking for a sheep skin jacket. We visited numerous shops offering such before she found what she was looking for at a good price. Another day, she wanted to return to the same shop to buy another one for her sister. With no map, I was proud of myself for finding the same place again.
West Jerusalem is a modern city where we visited Hebrew University, the Knesset and Yad Vashem among other places.
From Jerusalem, we took a bus north and stayed at a kibutz for a couple of days. Then on to Haifa, a beautiful city, similar to San Francisco. I remember falling ill and staying in bed one whole day while Bonita took a bus to a nearby Arab market. And then on to Netanya, a beach community on the Mediterranean where we just relaxed.
After returning to Tel Aviv, we flew to London with a stopover at the Athens Airport. We enjoyed the British capital for a number of reasons, including the locals spoke English. The breakfasts in our hotel were like what we were used at home. We saw the usual tourist attractions, the Tower of London, the British Museum, Buckingham Palace, Trafalgar Square and Hyde Park. We went to a play one night.
Finally, we took a boat ride across the English Channel to Amsterdam and our KLM flight back to New York. It was my last trip to Europe before this year's visit to Portugal.
We began with a KLM flight from JFK to Amsterdam. After arriving at Schiphol Airport, we took a train downtown.
I quickly learned the train station is located in their "red light" district. Walking the narrow sidewalks next to a canal, I noticed a woman sitting in front of a large picture window wearing only a flimsy negligee. I thought this woman had no shame until I noticed a similarly clad woman a few doors down. A bell then went off in my head.
Instead of vendors selling hot dogs as in New York, Amsterdam's street vendors sold pickled herring, a delicacy I learned from my father. They were delicious and cheap. I ate a lot.
We took a tour of the city and discovered that, unlike Texas that boasts how large everything is, Amsterdam boasts how small everything is. We also visited the Van Gogh Museum, the Anne Frank house and took day trips to Rotterdam and The Hague.
From Amsterdam, we took an overnight train to Copenhagen, Denmark, which made a stopover in the middle of the night in Hamburg, Germany. I was sound asleep in our compartment when I was awakened by a loud speaker in the station shouting, "achtung, achtung." It reminded me of the scene from Casablanca when the Gestapo told Parisians how to behave when German troops would march into the city.
Copenhagen is the cleanest city I have ever been in. There were waste baskets everywhere so there was no excuse to litter. There seemed to be pastry shops (real Danish pastry) on every block. I recall sitting in a beautiful park eating some pastry being careful not to make a mess.
Our landlady expressed disappointment we were not black. At the time, since you didn't see any in Denmark, they were a curiosity.
We spent at least one evening in Tivoli Gardens. Another day we took a boat ride to Malmo, Sweden.
From Copenhagen, we took a train to Berlin, at the time a divided city. We entered from the east to get to our destination, West Berlin. Before arriving, our papers were carefully checked on the train by East German officials. Outside the train, heavily-armed police and dogs checked the exterior to make sure nobody escaped hiding there.
West Berlin reminded me of New York, a bustling, vibrant, modern city. One day we traveled across Checkpoint Charlie back to East Berlin. From there we could see American and East German/Soviet soldiers pointing guns at each other from opposite sides of the wall that separated the two halves.
East Berlin looked like a ghost town with gray buildings and few pedestrians. We saw an East German soldier goose stepping in front of a Soviet war memorial marking the communist victory over the Nazis in 1945.
When we returned to West Berlin, we first had to go back through East German immigration. Bonita's American passport was returned quickly. Mine, much longer. I was nervous I was going to be in East Berlin more than I wanted. Eventually, my passport came back and we got the hell out of there.
From Schonefeld Airport in East Berlin, we took a charter flight to Tel Aviv in Israel. After landing, we stayed overnight at a hotel where the receptionist was watching a Hebrew dubbed version of the popular American TV show, Hawaii 5-O. Tel Aviv is a very secular Jewish city. Every where you look, there are Jews. Coming from a world where Jews were a minority, it was fascinating for us to be there.
The next day we took a bus to Jerusalem, staying in an Arab hotel near the Damascus Gate of the ancient walled portion of the city. Passing through the Gate, we walked the narrow streets with no visible names, finding a variety of shops selling goods with no price tags. Bargaining was expected.
Bonita was looking for a sheep skin jacket. We visited numerous shops offering such before she found what she was looking for at a good price. Another day, she wanted to return to the same shop to buy another one for her sister. With no map, I was proud of myself for finding the same place again.
West Jerusalem is a modern city where we visited Hebrew University, the Knesset and Yad Vashem among other places.
From Jerusalem, we took a bus north and stayed at a kibutz for a couple of days. Then on to Haifa, a beautiful city, similar to San Francisco. I remember falling ill and staying in bed one whole day while Bonita took a bus to a nearby Arab market. And then on to Netanya, a beach community on the Mediterranean where we just relaxed.
After returning to Tel Aviv, we flew to London with a stopover at the Athens Airport. We enjoyed the British capital for a number of reasons, including the locals spoke English. The breakfasts in our hotel were like what we were used at home. We saw the usual tourist attractions, the Tower of London, the British Museum, Buckingham Palace, Trafalgar Square and Hyde Park. We went to a play one night.
Finally, we took a boat ride across the English Channel to Amsterdam and our KLM flight back to New York. It was my last trip to Europe before this year's visit to Portugal.
Sunday, October 13, 2019
Battle of Saratoga
The British plan of 1777 to end the colonial rebellion was to crush resistance in the colony of New York and thus separate the New England agitators from their southern collaborators. The plan was devised by Major General John Burgoyne and approved in London by Lord George Germaine and King George III. Three British armies would meet at Albany (the capital) after travelling long distances and defeating the rebels along their way.
Burgoyne "was to lead an army from St. John's, up Lake Champlain, across to the upper Hudson River and then down to Albany." Sir Henry Clinton led a second army north from New York City. Finally, Colonel Barry St. Leger took a third force from Fort Oswego on Lake Ontario "eastward across the Mohawk Valley to capture the strategically important Fort Stanwick" before joining the others.
Clinton met no resistance on his way north. St. Leger's mission ended in failure and he was forced to withdraw to Quebec. What happened to Burgoyne changed the history of North America.
On October 7, 1777, near Saratoga, New York, British and American (rebel) forces met in combat. Second in command that day for the Americans was General Benedict Arnold.
Arnold started the day at his side's headquarters. Feeling frustrated, he mounted a horse and rode out into the fray. Personally leading the American attack, Arnold's forces defeated the enemy. Ten days later, his British army surrounded, Burgoyne surrendered.
Arnold suffered a broken leg during the battle and was laid up for five months. In 1780, he was placed in charge of West Point by General George Washington. Burgoyne returned to England and was never given another command.
"Once news of Burgoyne's surrender (at the Battle of Saratoga) reached France, King Louis XVI decided to (enter into) a formal Franco-American Alliance and French entry into the war. (As a result) Britain was forced to divert resources from North America to (military) theaters in the West Indies and Europe."
"France found an opportunity to undercut British power. After the Battle of Saratoga, which was conclusively won by the Americans, France realized that (the rebels) had the hope of winning the war and began fully aiding (their cause) by sending soldiers, military arms and supplies."
Almost exactly four years after the Battle of Saratoga (in 1781), American and French forces defeated the British at Yorktown, Virginia, and in so doing brought an end to the war. In 1783, the British gave up and by treaty granted the Americans what they wanted, independence.
However, all was not lost for the British. They still had Quebec, or what would become known as Canada.
Burgoyne "was to lead an army from St. John's, up Lake Champlain, across to the upper Hudson River and then down to Albany." Sir Henry Clinton led a second army north from New York City. Finally, Colonel Barry St. Leger took a third force from Fort Oswego on Lake Ontario "eastward across the Mohawk Valley to capture the strategically important Fort Stanwick" before joining the others.
Clinton met no resistance on his way north. St. Leger's mission ended in failure and he was forced to withdraw to Quebec. What happened to Burgoyne changed the history of North America.
On October 7, 1777, near Saratoga, New York, British and American (rebel) forces met in combat. Second in command that day for the Americans was General Benedict Arnold.
Arnold started the day at his side's headquarters. Feeling frustrated, he mounted a horse and rode out into the fray. Personally leading the American attack, Arnold's forces defeated the enemy. Ten days later, his British army surrounded, Burgoyne surrendered.
Arnold suffered a broken leg during the battle and was laid up for five months. In 1780, he was placed in charge of West Point by General George Washington. Burgoyne returned to England and was never given another command.
"Once news of Burgoyne's surrender (at the Battle of Saratoga) reached France, King Louis XVI decided to (enter into) a formal Franco-American Alliance and French entry into the war. (As a result) Britain was forced to divert resources from North America to (military) theaters in the West Indies and Europe."
"France found an opportunity to undercut British power. After the Battle of Saratoga, which was conclusively won by the Americans, France realized that (the rebels) had the hope of winning the war and began fully aiding (their cause) by sending soldiers, military arms and supplies."
Almost exactly four years after the Battle of Saratoga (in 1781), American and French forces defeated the British at Yorktown, Virginia, and in so doing brought an end to the war. In 1783, the British gave up and by treaty granted the Americans what they wanted, independence.
However, all was not lost for the British. They still had Quebec, or what would become known as Canada.
Sunday, October 6, 2019
Blackboard Jungle
Blackboard Jungle is a 1955 social commentary film, written and directed by Richard Brooks. It stars Glenn Ford, Anne Francis, Sidney Poitier and Vic Morrow. It was nominated for (but did not win) four Academy Awards, including Best Writing, Screenplay Based on Material from Another Medium, Best Cinematography, Black-and-White, Best Art Direction-Set Direction, Black-and-White and Best Film Editing.
The film opens and closes with the rousing rock and roll classic, Rock Around the Clock, written by Max C. Freedman and Jimmy DeKnight. It is performed by Bill Haley & His Comets. "One, two, three o'clock, four o'clock rock..." Because of this song, the film garnered a large teenage audience and "their exuberant response to it sometimes overflowed into violence and vandalism at screenings."
Blackboard Jungle concerns conflicts between teachers and students at an inner city, all-boys, trade high school. It contains many adult themes such as juvenile delinquency, sexual assault, infidelity, and racism. In spite of the above, my brothers took me to see the film at the Oswego Theater when I was only ten years-old.
Mr. Dadier (Ford), a new English teacher, passionately wants to teach. However, he can only find a job at a school where the students don't seem to want to learn anything from him. Mr. Dadier tries to cultivate a relationship with a student named Miller (Poitier) whom he believes could be a positive leader in the classroom. He is rebuffed.
Another student named West (Morrow) attempts to cause trouble for Mr. Dadier by writing and telephoning his pregnant wife (Francis), falsely suggesting her husband is with another woman. West and his gang assault Mr. Dadier and another teacher in an alley one day after school.
After finally making a connection (using video) with Miller and the majority of his students, Mr. Dadier has a final confrontation with a knife wielding West in his classroom.
Forty-five years after I first saw this film, I experienced my own Blackboard Jungle when I took a job as a World History teacher in an alternative high school in Brooklyn. I didn't have the same courage as Mr. Dadier and left after a month.
The film opens and closes with the rousing rock and roll classic, Rock Around the Clock, written by Max C. Freedman and Jimmy DeKnight. It is performed by Bill Haley & His Comets. "One, two, three o'clock, four o'clock rock..." Because of this song, the film garnered a large teenage audience and "their exuberant response to it sometimes overflowed into violence and vandalism at screenings."
Blackboard Jungle concerns conflicts between teachers and students at an inner city, all-boys, trade high school. It contains many adult themes such as juvenile delinquency, sexual assault, infidelity, and racism. In spite of the above, my brothers took me to see the film at the Oswego Theater when I was only ten years-old.
Mr. Dadier (Ford), a new English teacher, passionately wants to teach. However, he can only find a job at a school where the students don't seem to want to learn anything from him. Mr. Dadier tries to cultivate a relationship with a student named Miller (Poitier) whom he believes could be a positive leader in the classroom. He is rebuffed.
Another student named West (Morrow) attempts to cause trouble for Mr. Dadier by writing and telephoning his pregnant wife (Francis), falsely suggesting her husband is with another woman. West and his gang assault Mr. Dadier and another teacher in an alley one day after school.
After finally making a connection (using video) with Miller and the majority of his students, Mr. Dadier has a final confrontation with a knife wielding West in his classroom.
Forty-five years after I first saw this film, I experienced my own Blackboard Jungle when I took a job as a World History teacher in an alternative high school in Brooklyn. I didn't have the same courage as Mr. Dadier and left after a month.
Sunday, September 29, 2019
The Year 1952, Chapter 15
The 1952 presidential debate moderator next asks General Eisenhower what he would do to address the biggest crisis currently facing the nation, the seemingly endless conflict in the Korean peninsula.
"When the enemy struck, on that June day in 1950, what did America do? It did what it always has done in all its times of peril. It appealed to the heroism of its youth.
This appeal was utterly right and utterly inescapable. It was inescapable not only because this was the only way to defend the idea of collective freedom against savage aggression. That appeal was inescapable because there was now in the plight into which we had stumbled into no other way to save honor and self-respect.
The answer to that appeal has been what any American knew it would be. It has been sheer valor--valor on all the Korean mountain-sides that, each day, bear fresh scares of new graves.
Now--in this anxious autumn--from those heroic men there comes back an answering appeal. It is no whine, no whimpering plea. It is a question that addresses itself to simple reason. It asks: Where do we go from here? When comes the end? Is there an end?
Those questions touch all of us. They demand truthful answers. Neither glib promises nor glib excuses will serve. They would be no better than the glib prophesies that brought us to this pass.
My answer--candid and complete--is this: The first task of a new administration will be to review and re-examine every course of action open to us with one goal in view: to bring the Korean War to an early and honorable end.
That job requires a personal trip to Korea. I shall make that trip. Only in that way could I learn how best to serve the American people in the cause of peace. I shall go to Korea."
To Burt, going to Korea sounded like a publicity stunt.
"When the enemy struck, on that June day in 1950, what did America do? It did what it always has done in all its times of peril. It appealed to the heroism of its youth.
This appeal was utterly right and utterly inescapable. It was inescapable not only because this was the only way to defend the idea of collective freedom against savage aggression. That appeal was inescapable because there was now in the plight into which we had stumbled into no other way to save honor and self-respect.
The answer to that appeal has been what any American knew it would be. It has been sheer valor--valor on all the Korean mountain-sides that, each day, bear fresh scares of new graves.
Now--in this anxious autumn--from those heroic men there comes back an answering appeal. It is no whine, no whimpering plea. It is a question that addresses itself to simple reason. It asks: Where do we go from here? When comes the end? Is there an end?
Those questions touch all of us. They demand truthful answers. Neither glib promises nor glib excuses will serve. They would be no better than the glib prophesies that brought us to this pass.
My answer--candid and complete--is this: The first task of a new administration will be to review and re-examine every course of action open to us with one goal in view: to bring the Korean War to an early and honorable end.
That job requires a personal trip to Korea. I shall make that trip. Only in that way could I learn how best to serve the American people in the cause of peace. I shall go to Korea."
To Burt, going to Korea sounded like a publicity stunt.
Sunday, September 22, 2019
Portugal
Our trip to Portugal began on Tuesday evening,
September 3rd. Air Tap flight
#88 left Guarulhos Airport at about 10 PM.
I took advantage of the entertainment offered by the airline
to watch two movies I had never seen before, Creed (2015) and Creed
II (2018), both starring Sylvester Stallone. I was very impressed how he has transformed
his character, Rocky Balboa, from a gritty young boxer to a wise old man. I love the end of the second movie when Rocky shows up at his estranged son’s doorstep and meets his grandson for the first
time. As a grandfather myself, I almost
cried.
After arriving in Lisboa at 11:30 AM on Wednesday,
September 4th, Cristina and I went to our hotel, the Fenix Urban. After lunch, we discovered a very cool
supermarket, Pingo Doce, where bottles of good Portuguese wine
cost less than 2 Euros.
On Thursday, September 5th, we took a bus
tour of the Belem area of Lisboa, where many tourists partake of the delicious
Portuguese pastry known as pastel de nata (Pasteis de Belem recommended by my student, Silvia).
This pastry is made from a combination of flour, milk, sugar, cinnamon, water, vanilla extract and 6 egg yolks.
On Friday, September 6th, our bus tour took
us to a beautiful beach area a little outside of Lisboa, known as Cascais,
pronounced Cascaish. It reminded me of
the Hamptons on Long Island. For dinner,
Cristina and I went to Solar dos Presuntos, which
was recommended by my student, Fernanda.
I had a delicious piece of salmon.
Good recommendation.
On Saturday, September 7th, Cristina and I
visited the Chiado district of Lisboa where we found (with the help on my
student, Kim) the statue of the famous Portuguese poet, Fernando Pessoa. As part of the statue, there is a chair where
tourists can sit next to the poet for a photo-op. We did.
Nearby is the Bertrand, the oldest continuous operating
bookstore in the world. I bought a copy
of The Count of Monte Cristo written by Alexandre Dumas in 1844.
On Sunday, September 8th, we flew via
Air Tap flight #1944 to Porto. When we arrived
at our hotel, the Grande Hotel do Porto, we discovered a kind of
Times Square in front on Rua de Santa Catarina.
There was such a mob of tourists our taxi had difficulty arriving
at the hotel.
At 9 AM on Monday, September 9th, we saw four men (Sao Joao, O Infante Dom Henrique, Almeida Garrett and Camilo Castelo Branco) come out from the Clock of the Galerias Palladium near our hotel.
On our walk down to the Douro River, we passed the Cannabis Store
Amsterdam where I bought (and later consumed) a dark chocolate bar
which contained some elements of the substance (but not THC).
Almost nothing happened. I had
shrimp for lunch at the very good nearby restaurant Cantinho do Avillez.
On Tuesday, September 10th, Cristina and I
had lunch at A Brasileira.
I chose an eggplant dish which I enjoyed.
In the evening, we went for dessert at the famous and very popular Majestic
Café, where tourists line up to get in.
On Wednesday, September 11th, we visited a
winery (Quinta Da Boeira) which produces Porto wine (since 1850). Cristina bought a bottle of Reserve Tawny. As part of the tour, we discovered, almost
hidden away, a fabulous restaurant where I had one of the finest meals of my
life (quality of food and beverage, service, and ambiance). We sat on the building’s porch overlooking a garden, almost by
ourselves, on a beautiful afternoon, eating fish and drinking a bottle of
Portuguese wine served by Joao, our friendly waiter.
On Thursday, September 12th, Cristina and I
took a 3 hour bus trip to Braganca, the largest city in the northeast of
Portugal. We dined at the Emiclau
restaurant and sat under a full moon in a plaza in the center of town.
In 1925, Manoel and Ismenia, two young adults, got
married and decided to move across the Atlantic from Portugal to "El Dorado" (Brazil). Two years later, in their new country, Ismenia gave birth to a daughter, Irene. My
wife, Cristina, is Irene’s daughter.
Manoel and Ismenia grew up in a very small village near Braganca called Nunes. On Friday, September 13th , we hired a taxi driver (ironically named Manoel) to take us to Nunes. It’s about a 40 minute trip through the mountains on very winding roads. I had no expectations, but it turned out to be a momentous journey.
Manoel and Ismenia grew up in a very small village near Braganca called Nunes. On Friday, September 13th , we hired a taxi driver (ironically named Manoel) to take us to Nunes. It’s about a 40 minute trip through the mountains on very winding roads. I had no expectations, but it turned out to be a momentous journey.
First, we visited the local cemetery to pay our
respects to Manoel who, when Irene was a child, returned to Portugal for the treatment
of tuberculosis. He died there, never
returning to his family in Brazil.
Next, Cristina and I visited the Catholic chapel (built in
1545) where the young couple married the year before their trip to the new
world. We also saw the house, made of
stone, where Ismenia lived her early life.
It was an emotional experience for Cristina, returning to her
roots. We will never forget Nunes.
On Saturday, September 14th , we took a
seven hour bus ride from Braganca back to Lisboa.
On Sunday, September 15th, we flew via
Air Tap flight #83 from Lisboa to Sao Paulo.
Before the flight, Cristina and I bought (at the Duty Free shop) a
bottle of Baileys Irish Cream and four bottles of Portuguese wine. Again, I watched two movies on board.
First was the 1968 classic action film, Bullitt,
starring the late Steve McQueen. The movie's memorable car chase down the streets of San Francisco alone was worth the price of admission. I was reminded of McQueen recently through the movie Once Upon a Time in Hollywood
(2019) in which he (portrayed by Damian Lewis) appears in one memorable
scene.
The second, The Mule (2018), stars Clint
Eastwood as a very old man, down on his luck, who goes to work for a drug cartel transporting
cocaine in his small truck along the highways of middle America. Like Stallone, Eastwood has successfully transitioned
from young tough men to wise old ones.
Too bad McQueen didn’t have the opportunity to do the same.
At 1 AM, on Monday, September 16th,
Cristina and I arrived home. The
Portugal we found was safe, clean, organized and beautiful. We loved it.
Sunday, September 1, 2019
Places in the Heart
Places in the Heart is a 1984 film drama staring Sally Field, Danny Glover and John Malkovich. It was nominated for seven Academy Awards, winning two: Best Actress (Field) and Best Original Screenplay (Robert Benton - see blog post Kramer vs. Kramer).
It's the story of a young widow, Mrs. Spalding (Field), with two children who is trying to survive on a cotton farm in Waxahachie, Texas, during the Depression. She is aided by an itinerant black man, Moses (Glover), and a blind white man, Mr. Will (Malkovich - nominated for Best Supporting Actor, which was won by Haing S. Ngor for The Killing Fields).
In order to keep her farm and her children, Mrs. Spalding needs to win the Ellis County contest, a $100 cash prize awarded to the farmer who produces the first bale of cotton for market each season. Everyone in the family worked to achieve the goal plus Moses recruited other black migrant workers. She won the prize.
"Moses carefully coaches Mrs. Spalding on how to negotiate with the (cotton) buyer" so he wouldn't be able to take advantage of her inexperience. That night, in order to teach Moses a lesson, the buyer organizes the local KKK to savagely beat him. Mr. Will is able to recognize the voices of the hooded men and identifies them by name. It save the life of Moses, but he has to leave Waxahachie.
The end of the film is quite remarkable. The scene takes place in the local Baptist church during a Sunday morning service, with Mrs. Spalding and her children plus Mr. Will in attendance.
Preacher (Lynn D. Lasswell, Jr.): This morning, we picked our text from First Corinthians, Thirteenth Chapter, Verses one through eight (The Way of Love). Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not love, I am become as a sounding brass or a tinkling symbol. Though I have the gift of prophesy and all knowledge, and have not love, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor and have not love, it profiteth me nothing. Love is patient, kind. Love is not jealous or boastful. Love never ends."
You know something strange is happening when you see Moses, a black man seated in a segregated white church, taking communion with all the others. The final frame shows Mrs. Spalding's deceased husband Royce passing the wine (the blood of Christ) to Wylie, the young black man who accidentally killed him, and who himself was murdered by vigilantes.
Movie critics called the ending "a climax that with amazing grace moves almost imperceptibly from reality to fantasy in order to find for people a kind of reconciliation with their fate." To me, the ending symbolizes love and forgiveness.
_________
I will be on vacation the next two Sundays. Next post will be Sunday, September 22.
It's the story of a young widow, Mrs. Spalding (Field), with two children who is trying to survive on a cotton farm in Waxahachie, Texas, during the Depression. She is aided by an itinerant black man, Moses (Glover), and a blind white man, Mr. Will (Malkovich - nominated for Best Supporting Actor, which was won by Haing S. Ngor for The Killing Fields).
In order to keep her farm and her children, Mrs. Spalding needs to win the Ellis County contest, a $100 cash prize awarded to the farmer who produces the first bale of cotton for market each season. Everyone in the family worked to achieve the goal plus Moses recruited other black migrant workers. She won the prize.
"Moses carefully coaches Mrs. Spalding on how to negotiate with the (cotton) buyer" so he wouldn't be able to take advantage of her inexperience. That night, in order to teach Moses a lesson, the buyer organizes the local KKK to savagely beat him. Mr. Will is able to recognize the voices of the hooded men and identifies them by name. It save the life of Moses, but he has to leave Waxahachie.
The end of the film is quite remarkable. The scene takes place in the local Baptist church during a Sunday morning service, with Mrs. Spalding and her children plus Mr. Will in attendance.
Preacher (Lynn D. Lasswell, Jr.): This morning, we picked our text from First Corinthians, Thirteenth Chapter, Verses one through eight (The Way of Love). Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not love, I am become as a sounding brass or a tinkling symbol. Though I have the gift of prophesy and all knowledge, and have not love, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor and have not love, it profiteth me nothing. Love is patient, kind. Love is not jealous or boastful. Love never ends."
You know something strange is happening when you see Moses, a black man seated in a segregated white church, taking communion with all the others. The final frame shows Mrs. Spalding's deceased husband Royce passing the wine (the blood of Christ) to Wylie, the young black man who accidentally killed him, and who himself was murdered by vigilantes.
Movie critics called the ending "a climax that with amazing grace moves almost imperceptibly from reality to fantasy in order to find for people a kind of reconciliation with their fate." To me, the ending symbolizes love and forgiveness.
_________
I will be on vacation the next two Sundays. Next post will be Sunday, September 22.
Sunday, August 25, 2019
The Year 1952, Chapter 14
Now it is Governor Stevenson's turn in the presidential debate of 1952 to respond as to his vision of the future of the country.
"This is not the time for superficial solutions and everlasting elocution, for frantic boast and foolish word. For words are not deeds and there are no cheap and painless solutions to war, hunger, ignorance, fear and imperialist Communism. Intemperate criticism is not a policy for the nation; denunciation is not a program for our salvation. Words calculated to catch everyone may catch no one.
Where we have erred, let there be no denial; where we have wronged the public trust, let there be no excuses. Self-criticism is the secret weapon of democracy, and candor and confession are good for the political soul. But we will never appease; we will never apologize for our leadership in the great events of this critical century.
We glory in these imperishable pages of our country's chronicle. But a great record of past achievement is not enough. There can be no complacency perhaps for years to come. We dare not just look back to great yesterdays. We must look forward to great tomorrows.
What counts now is not just what we are against, but what we are for. Who leads us is less important that what leads us--what convictions, what courage, what faith.
So I hope our preoccupation is not just with personalities but with objectives. The United States is strong, resolved, resourceful and rich; we know the duty and the destiny of this heaven-rescued land; we can and we will pursue a strong, consistent, honorable policy abroad, and meanwhile preserve the free institutions of life and of commerce at home.
What America needs and the world wants is not bombast, abuse and double talk, but a somber message of firm faith and confidence. St. Francis said: 'Where there is patience and humility there is neither anger nor worry.' "
Burt has a big smile on his face.
"This is not the time for superficial solutions and everlasting elocution, for frantic boast and foolish word. For words are not deeds and there are no cheap and painless solutions to war, hunger, ignorance, fear and imperialist Communism. Intemperate criticism is not a policy for the nation; denunciation is not a program for our salvation. Words calculated to catch everyone may catch no one.
Where we have erred, let there be no denial; where we have wronged the public trust, let there be no excuses. Self-criticism is the secret weapon of democracy, and candor and confession are good for the political soul. But we will never appease; we will never apologize for our leadership in the great events of this critical century.
We glory in these imperishable pages of our country's chronicle. But a great record of past achievement is not enough. There can be no complacency perhaps for years to come. We dare not just look back to great yesterdays. We must look forward to great tomorrows.
What counts now is not just what we are against, but what we are for. Who leads us is less important that what leads us--what convictions, what courage, what faith.
So I hope our preoccupation is not just with personalities but with objectives. The United States is strong, resolved, resourceful and rich; we know the duty and the destiny of this heaven-rescued land; we can and we will pursue a strong, consistent, honorable policy abroad, and meanwhile preserve the free institutions of life and of commerce at home.
What America needs and the world wants is not bombast, abuse and double talk, but a somber message of firm faith and confidence. St. Francis said: 'Where there is patience and humility there is neither anger nor worry.' "
Burt has a big smile on his face.
Sunday, August 18, 2019
XIX Amendment
Under the US Constitution ratified in June 1788, the right to vote was left to each individual state to decide. As an example, under the New York State Constitution of April 1777, "every male inhabitant of full age...shall be entitled to vote...if...he shall have been a freeholder (property owner)." By the 1820s, New York dropped the property ownership requirement.
In 1870, after the Civil War and the end of slavery, the XV Amendment was added to the US Constitution. It provided that "The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any state on account of race, color, or previous condition of servitude." Thus, black men could now vote. But not white women, nor any woman.
Ninety-nine years ago today, on August 18, 1920, the XIX Amendment was added to the Constitution, providing that "The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any state on account of sex." In Brazil, women got the right to vote in 1932.
When my mother (Margaret) was born in 1907, she did not have the right to vote. By the 1928 election (Herbert Hoover vs. Al Smith), I'm sure she voted. How did this change happen?
In 1848, a group of activists met in Seneca Falls, NY to discuss women's rights in the US. Borrowing from the words of Thomas Jefferson, they declared, "We hold these truths to be self-evident that all men and women are created equal..." These suffragettes wanted the vote for women.
When the XV Amendment was being discussed in 1870, women leaders, such as Susan B. Anthony, refused to support its passage because it neglected to give women the right to vote.
In 1890, the National American Woman Suffrage Association was formed with Elizabeth Cody Stanton as president. Now, women argued that they deserved the vote because they were different from men. Women could create "a purer, more moral maternal commonwealth." Temperance advocates believed that women could create an enormous voting bloc on behalf of their cause: to outlaw alcohol in the US.
At the end of the 19th and the beginning of the 20th Centuries, some western states started granting voting rights to women. However, eastern and southern states resisted. Women's groups mobilized, went on hunger strikes and picketed the White House. The Great War proved that women were just as patriotic as men and deserved the vote. Two years after the war, the got it.
As American women prepare next year for the 100th anniversary of the passage of the XIX Amendment granting their right to vote, I hope they will appreciate the sacrifices and hard work done by women in the past and will go out on election day, November 3, 2020, to show their appreciation by voting.
In 1870, after the Civil War and the end of slavery, the XV Amendment was added to the US Constitution. It provided that "The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any state on account of race, color, or previous condition of servitude." Thus, black men could now vote. But not white women, nor any woman.
Ninety-nine years ago today, on August 18, 1920, the XIX Amendment was added to the Constitution, providing that "The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any state on account of sex." In Brazil, women got the right to vote in 1932.
When my mother (Margaret) was born in 1907, she did not have the right to vote. By the 1928 election (Herbert Hoover vs. Al Smith), I'm sure she voted. How did this change happen?
In 1848, a group of activists met in Seneca Falls, NY to discuss women's rights in the US. Borrowing from the words of Thomas Jefferson, they declared, "We hold these truths to be self-evident that all men and women are created equal..." These suffragettes wanted the vote for women.
When the XV Amendment was being discussed in 1870, women leaders, such as Susan B. Anthony, refused to support its passage because it neglected to give women the right to vote.
In 1890, the National American Woman Suffrage Association was formed with Elizabeth Cody Stanton as president. Now, women argued that they deserved the vote because they were different from men. Women could create "a purer, more moral maternal commonwealth." Temperance advocates believed that women could create an enormous voting bloc on behalf of their cause: to outlaw alcohol in the US.
At the end of the 19th and the beginning of the 20th Centuries, some western states started granting voting rights to women. However, eastern and southern states resisted. Women's groups mobilized, went on hunger strikes and picketed the White House. The Great War proved that women were just as patriotic as men and deserved the vote. Two years after the war, the got it.
As American women prepare next year for the 100th anniversary of the passage of the XIX Amendment granting their right to vote, I hope they will appreciate the sacrifices and hard work done by women in the past and will go out on election day, November 3, 2020, to show their appreciation by voting.
Sunday, August 11, 2019
Bomb Scare at the Palestra
Until I moved to Philadelphia to be a student at the University of Pennsylvania, I was pretty ignorant about college basketball, which was not available on my TV. As our family had season tickets for the Syracuse Nationals (Nats) games at the Onondaga County War Memorial, I avidly followed the NBA. While a student at Oswego High School, I regularly attended Buccaneer home games.
I had been a college football fan prior to Penn, watching the Saturday afternoon game on NBC. Plus, I went to some live games, especially those at nearby Syracuse University.
I was at almost all the Penn home football games at Franklin Field freshman year, which was a disaster for the Red and the Blue. Then came basketball season and the Palestra, known as the Cathedral of College Basketball. Opened on New Years Day 1927, it "has hosted more games, more visiting teams, and more NCAA tournaments than any other facility in college basketball."
I remember my first visit to the Palestra (on the Penn campus) on January 25, 1964, which was for the annual clash with Big 5 rival, the Villanova University Wildcats. We got clobbered, 72-48, but the atmosphere was electric. The Palestra was packed with screaming fans from both schools. There were actually two games that night as the arena was used as a home court for all five of the Big 5 schools, which included the Temple University Owls, the La Salle University Explorers and the St. Joseph University Hawks.
After that first experience, I regularly attended numerous double-headers at the Palestra during my four years at Penn. I saw many great visiting players, such as Princeton's Bill Bradley, Syracuse's Dave Bing and Miami's Rick Barry. I became a college basketball fan for life.
However, the double-header I and many others will never forget is the one on the night of February 20, 1965.
The opener pitted La Salle against the Western Kentucky Hilltoppers and their star player, Clem Haskins. After the Explorer's victory came the main event between two of the top ten teams in the country, St. Joseph's (19-1) and Villanova (15-3). The event had long been sold out. I was smart enough to have bought my ticket way ahead of time, for a seat high up on the east end of the building.
I remember the Wildcats jumping out to a quick 10-0 lead. But, the score was soon tied at 12. It remained a close game until halftime. Then, while many used the opportunity to visit the rest rooms or buy food, came a surprise from the student public address announcer.
There was a bomb scare at the Palestra. Everyone, about 9,000 fans, including me, had to evacuate the building and go out into the very cold night air. And we did, quietly and peacefully, nobody getting nervous or panicky. We stayed out for about 30 minutes before allowed back in by the police. I heard someone speculate it was a ploy for fans without tickets to get inside the Palestra to watch the second half of the very exciting game, in person.
The Hawks went on to win, 69-61. However, while not everybody who was there that night remembers the final score or who won, all remember what happened at halftime.
I had been a college football fan prior to Penn, watching the Saturday afternoon game on NBC. Plus, I went to some live games, especially those at nearby Syracuse University.
I was at almost all the Penn home football games at Franklin Field freshman year, which was a disaster for the Red and the Blue. Then came basketball season and the Palestra, known as the Cathedral of College Basketball. Opened on New Years Day 1927, it "has hosted more games, more visiting teams, and more NCAA tournaments than any other facility in college basketball."
I remember my first visit to the Palestra (on the Penn campus) on January 25, 1964, which was for the annual clash with Big 5 rival, the Villanova University Wildcats. We got clobbered, 72-48, but the atmosphere was electric. The Palestra was packed with screaming fans from both schools. There were actually two games that night as the arena was used as a home court for all five of the Big 5 schools, which included the Temple University Owls, the La Salle University Explorers and the St. Joseph University Hawks.
After that first experience, I regularly attended numerous double-headers at the Palestra during my four years at Penn. I saw many great visiting players, such as Princeton's Bill Bradley, Syracuse's Dave Bing and Miami's Rick Barry. I became a college basketball fan for life.
However, the double-header I and many others will never forget is the one on the night of February 20, 1965.
The opener pitted La Salle against the Western Kentucky Hilltoppers and their star player, Clem Haskins. After the Explorer's victory came the main event between two of the top ten teams in the country, St. Joseph's (19-1) and Villanova (15-3). The event had long been sold out. I was smart enough to have bought my ticket way ahead of time, for a seat high up on the east end of the building.
I remember the Wildcats jumping out to a quick 10-0 lead. But, the score was soon tied at 12. It remained a close game until halftime. Then, while many used the opportunity to visit the rest rooms or buy food, came a surprise from the student public address announcer.
There was a bomb scare at the Palestra. Everyone, about 9,000 fans, including me, had to evacuate the building and go out into the very cold night air. And we did, quietly and peacefully, nobody getting nervous or panicky. We stayed out for about 30 minutes before allowed back in by the police. I heard someone speculate it was a ploy for fans without tickets to get inside the Palestra to watch the second half of the very exciting game, in person.
The Hawks went on to win, 69-61. However, while not everybody who was there that night remembers the final score or who won, all remember what happened at halftime.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)