Yearbook, Chapter 3

On Friday night, I picked up Bubbles at her home in my father's car.  We drove to the movies and I parked in the adjacent lot.

We saw Bye Bye Birdie starring Ann-Margret and Bobby Rydell, portraying two high school sweethearts.  Before the show, I bought us a big bag of salty popcorn and a large coke with two straws.

It was hard to take my eyes off Ann-Margret, but Bubbles was sitting close by on my right.  At a discreet moment, I put my right arm around her shoulders.  She held my right hand with her left.

After the show, I said, "How did ya like it?"

"I loved it.  Thanks for taking me!"

Then she leaned over and kissed me on my cheek.

I followed up with, "How 'bout we drive out to Rudy's (restaurant by the lake)?"

"Great idea, Bennie."

 At Rudy's, we each had a hot dog and a beer.  Then, we walked over to a more secluded area.  I showed off my skill at skipping rocks into the lake.

Finally, she said, "You know, I've had a crush on you for some time.

"I wish you'd have let me know."

"I did...in the yearbook."

"I mean before.  I'm kind of shy around girls."

"Before you had a girlfriend."

"Well, that's history.  We fought all the time."

"I think you're a swell guy.  I hope you ask me out again."

"I sure will...I think you're a very pretty girl."

She moved closer to me, put her arms around my neck and we started kissing on our lips.  It was heavenly.

I drove her home.  After I parked, we made out in the car.  I told her I'd call her the next day.  I slept very well that night.  I think she did, too.  

Willie Mays

On October 3, 1951 (I was six years-old), the New York Giants and the Brooklyn Dodgers were playing the third and final playoff game for the National League baseball championship at the Polo Grounds in upper Manhattan.  The Dodgers were leading 4-2 in the bottom of the ninth inning, but the Giants had runners at second and third with only one out.

Up to bat came Bobby Thomson.  On deck was Willie Mays, the twenty year-old rookie sensation from Alabama.  As the Giants were the favorite team of my thirteen year-old older brother Paul, they became my favorite, too.  Because of his growing reputation as a ballplayer, Mays became the hero of my youth.

Mays never had to come to bat because Thomson became the hero of the day (and for many days thereafter) when he hit a dramatic three-run home run to win the game and the championship.  Unfortunately, the Giants lost the 1951 World Series to the New York Yankees.

Early the next season, Mays was drafted into the United States Army.  He did not return to pro baseball until the 1954 season, when he led the Giants to another National League championship and another trip to the World Series, this time against the Cleveland Indians.

In the top of the eighth inning of the first game at the Polo Grounds, the score was tied 2-2.  The Indians had runners on first and second with no outs when the dangerous Vic Wertz came to bat.

Wertz hit a long fly ball to the deepest part of center field.  Mays running full speed caught the ball over his shoulder and threw the ball back to the infield to prevent any runs from scoring.

It was September 29, 1954 and I was home from school because of the Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashanah.  I watched the whole game by myself on our new black and white TV.

In the bottom of the tenth inning with the score still tied, Mays drew a walk and immediately stole second base.  The next batter was intentionally walked and pinch hitter Dusty Rhodes came to the plate.  He hit a three run home run to win the game.  The Giants swept the Indians, 4 games to none to win the World Series, the only one Mays would win.

In 1958, Willie Mays and the Giants moved to San Francisco.  As I lived in Oswego, it didn't affect me.  I stayed his and their number one fan.

In 1962, the Giants were again playing the Yankees in the World Series.  In the seventh and deciding game at Candlestick Park in San Francisco, the Yankees were leading 1-0.  

In the bottom of the ninth inning, the Giants had a runner on first base with two outs.  I again was watching the game on TV as I had rushed home from high school, arriving during the fifth inning.

The last chance for the Giants rested on the shoulders of Willie Mays.  I knew in my gut he would not make the final out.  I was right as he hit a double to right field sending the tying run to third base.  Unfortunately, the next batter hit a line drive to the second baseman to end the game and the World Series.

As I went to college in Philadelphia during the mid-1960s, I benefitted from having the Giants visit the city several times during the baseball season.  What a thrill it was for me to see Willie Mays in person.  Another time, I saw him hit one of his 660 career home runs over the roof in old Connie Mack Stadium.

On May 11, 1972, Mays was traded to the New York Mets for whom he played until his retirement at the end of the 1973 season at age forty-two.  I remember watching on a color TV his last base hit driving in the winning run in game two of the 1973 World Series against the Oakland A's.

During this period with the Mets, I had to decide whether I was a Giant fan or a Willie Mays fan.  I knew I was a Willie Mays fan.  After his retirement, I returned to the Giants.

This past Thursday, the Giants and the St. Louis Cardinals played a game at Rickwood Field in Birmingham, Alabama where Willie Mays started his professional baseball career in 1948 with the Black Barons.  The Giants lost. 6-5.

Sadly, Willie Mays died this past Tuesday, June 18, at 93 years of age.  He will be missed, but never forgotten.

Father's Day Revisited

On Sunday, June 18, 2017, I wrote a blog post (Father's Day) about my father, Harry Lasky, born September 7, 1901 in Troy, NY and died September 17, 1981 in Fort Lauderdale, FL.  His remains lie somewhere in a cemetery in Broward County, FL.  I want to re-examine our relationship and how it affected me during my youth.

In school, I did very well and developed academic self-confidence.  My older brothers Joel and Paul had also done very well in school and I felt it was incumbent on me to match their performance.

On or about 11 years old, I started noticing girls.  I wanted to have relationships with girls, but I developed a shyness around them.  My lack of social self-confidence did not match my academic self-confidence.

Negative experiences reinforced my shyness.  I began to feel it was better not to even try to overcome this lack of social self-confidence.  Nothing ventured...nothing lost.  

As I grew into adulthood, I started having positive experiences which overcame my shyness and I developed social self-confidence, especially with females.

I firmly believe that instilling self-confidence, in all its aspects, is very important for children.  Bonita and I did that with Rachel and Bret.

According to Psychology Today, people are not born shy.  "Babies are born with different temperaments, and those with an extremely sensitive temperament are more likely to go on to be shy. Yet supportive, sensitive parenting can buffer against developing shyness or social anxiety."

My mother tried on several occasions to reinforce my social self-confidence.  For example, she signed me up for dancing classes... with girls.

Unfortunately, I did not have much of a relationship with my father.  He believed his only role as a father was as a bread winner.

My father did boast to me on at least one occasion that he was somewhat of a ladies' man.  He was a good looking guy with money in his pocket.  He was attractive to females.  I wish he could have told me that I, too, was a good looking guy who was attractive to females.  It would have helped. 

Hiding in a Hotel Room

 As I have previously mentioned, my spring break trip with my parents to Miami Beach in 1963 was a many faceted experience for me.

I met Cassius Clay, soon to become Muhammed Ali, at the Fifth Street Gym.

I won a dance contest at a night club doing the twist.

I went with my Uncle Sam Friedland (really a cousin by marriage) and a couple of teenage girls from Rochester, NY on a trip to the beach in Fort Lauderdale to check out who was wearing Champion clothing.  He was a salesman for the company.

I recently mentioned an anecdotal story related to a waitress in the hotel coffee shop.

Now, I want to talk about an embarrassing memory.  The hotel where we were staying was throwing a party for its teenage guests.  As a seventeen year-old, I qualified.

My reaction at the time was fear, fear of being in an uncomfortable situation (a party with boys and girls).  I thought it best to avoid uncomfortable situations.  I should have felt that this was a wonderful opportunity that I had to take advantage of.

So, what did I do?  I hid in our hotel room.  But that did not prevent a young girl from doing her best to rid me of my fears.

Somehow, this girl, who was also a guest at the hotel, discovered where my room was.  She had the courage to knock on the door of a complete stranger.  I let her in.  We were all alone.  

As best she could, she tried to convince me to come to the party and that if I did, I would have a good time.  And how did I reward this girl who risked humiliation and embarrassment?  

I didn't go to the party.  I stayed in the room all night.  What a dope.  She must have thought me a coward.  And I was.  I shouldn't have let fear control my behavior.

Witness for the Prosecution

I have always found courtroom dramas to be very entertaining.  My favorite is Anatomy of a Murder (1959) pitting James Stewart against George C. Scott.  Other good ones are To Kill a Mockingbird (1962), The Caine Mutiny (1954) and Adam's Rib (1949).

Today I'd like to talk about another such drama, Witness for the Prosecution (1957) starring Charles Laughton, Tyrone Power, Marlene Dietrich and Elsa Lanchester.  

It was nominated for six Academy Awards, winning none:  Best Picture (won by The Bridge on the River Kwai), Best Director (Billy Wilder, won by David Lean for The Bridge on the River Kwai), Best Actor (Laughton, won by Alec Guinness for The Bridge on the River Kwai), Best Supporting Actress (Lanchester, won by Miyoshi Umeki for Sayonara), Best Film Editing (won by The Bridge on the River Kwai) and Best Sound Recording (won by Sayonara).

Senior barrister (UK legal system) Sir Wilfrid Robarts (Laughton), who is recovering from a heart attack, agrees to defend Leonard Vole (Power).  Vole is accused of murdering a wealthy, childless widow who had become enamored of him and had named him as the main beneficiary in her will. 

Strong circumstantial evidence points to Vole as the killer, but Sir Wilfrid believes Vole to be innocent.  Vole's German wife Christine (Dietrich) provides an alibi, although it is not entirely convincing.

During the trial, Christine is called as a witness for the prosecution as she is not legally married to Vole.  She testifies that Vole privately confessed to her that he had killed the victim, and her conscience forced her to finally tell the truth.

During the trial, Sir Wilfred is contacted by a mysterious woman who has evidence that Christine perjured herself.  This convinces the jury that Vole should be acquitted and he is.

However, that is not the end.  There is a surprise that I don't want to divulge.

This was Tyrone Power's last finished movie.  He died of a heart attack (while making another) at age forty-four.

In real life, Laughton and Lanchester, who played Sir Wilfred's nurse in the film, were a married couple.