Entertaining Our Troops

Veterans "storm" the WWII Memorial. Photo: Business Insider

On October 1, 2013, military veterans taking part in an Honor Flight to Washington D.C. found the gates to the World War II Memorial closed. The monument is dedicated to the veterans of that war and the memory of their fallen comrades, and the sacrifice each made—not only for the United States of America, but truly for the whole world. For many of the aging soldiers, the trip would surely be their last chance to visit the memorial. It was reported that the veterans from “The Greatest Generation”—with the assistance of their chaperones­—“stormed” the gates of the memorial. 

I can only imagine how the adrenaline must have pumped faster through the veins of these old soldiers that day—much like the day they stormed the beaches of Normandy and Iwo Jima, and every small but significant bunker and stronghold in both the European and Pacific theaters. Nothing was going to stop these men [and women] from their objective then, and not even their own government policies were going to stop them now. Truly inspiring!

Reporting for Duty

Acappella Al addresses the audience.

Here at home, a small group of karaoke singers volunteer once a month to entertain the residents at the Clement J. Zablocki V.A. Hospital in Milwaukee. My fellow performers had often asked me to participate, and I have been wanting to do so for many years. But the event­­—held in the middle of the day on a Friday—usually conflicted with my work schedule.

However, the freelance design work I do now allows me to set my own schedule. Even being in school two days a week would not interfere with my participation. So on October 4th, with encouragement from my karaoke friends, I showed up for duty to entertain the troops.

The audience was made up of mostly World War II veterans and vets from the Korean and Vietnam wars. Because participation is voluntary, the singers vary from month to month. On this particular day, the entertainment line up included: Acappella Al, Gloria, Dave W., Elvis Eddie, Judy, me and the karaoke host Kalani. Each of us sang one song in a four round rotation.

Gloria's sultry style captures the hearts of the audience.

Acappella Al opened the show with a brief  “thank you” to the audience for their service to our country. He then sang “God Bless America”...sans music. But for his rendition of  Frank Sinatra’s “My Way”, Al performed with music, borrowing a black fedora from Dave W.

Gloria sang a wonderful mix of standards and torch songs, and Judy belted out classic show tunes. Elvis Eddie did his best to invoke the spirit of the King of Rock ’n’ Roll with “American Trilogy”. Kalani sang a heartfelt version of “I Believe” and a deeply soulful, Ray Charles’ rendition of “America the Beautiful.”

With costumes and props, Dave W.  was a “one-man-show.” His first round song choice, “The Monster Mash”, provoked smiles and laughter from the audience. His song and dance interpretation of Right Said Fred’s 1991 hit “I’m Too Sexy” made the rest of us blush!

Dave W. performs "The Monster Mash" as Kalani and Al look on.

As for me...I was a bit nervous. Even after having worked extensively with several veteran organizations during my career, I was somewhat apprehensive about what kind of songs the V.A. hospital residents might like to hear. Did they want to be reminded of the old days? Were they familiar with more contemporary songs? Dave W. reassured me, “Just sing what you sing best.”

When I first took the mic, it struck me that the room was very bright. I could see everybody’s face and I was acutely aware that their eyes were on me! It was different from karaoke at night, when the lights are low, and people aren’t really paying too much attention to you because they are socializing with the others at their table. No. This was very different. Cue the nerves.

Tell Me ‘Bout the Good Old Days...

The music began, and I started to sing the 1987 song “Grandpa” by the Judds. The lyrics were not lost on the audience as some of them wiped tears from their eyes. Seeing their emotion made me choke up, too. Admittedly, it was not the best performance I’ve done of this particular song, but I got through it­—with a lot of perspiration.

Is this thing on??

For the second round I sang Patsy Cline’s “She’s Got You.” This time, I was a little more relaxed and it was a little easier to look at the faces in the audience.

Not knowing what to sing for the third round, again I turned to my buddy Dave W. “I want to sing ‘Fire’ by the Pointer Sisters. What do you think?” Dave squinched his nose. “Why don’t you do Bette Midler’s ‘The Rose’?" he suggested. "I know you think you do that one a lot," Dave reasoned, "but these people never heard you sing it.” So, I went with Dave’s recommendation...and I’m thankful I did!

At the beginning of the song, a technical SNAFU occurred that resulted with the words on the monitor, but no sound. When Kalani restarted the program, the music began again, this time without incident. However, at the end of the first verse, the monitor went completely blank, but the music kept going! We all looked to Kalani, who exclaimed, “I don’t know what happened!” “I do...” I playfully retorted, “Keep your hands off that computer keyboard when I’m trying to sing!” The audience laughed. (Nerves in check.)

Dave W.: "Too Sexy"

Kalani was about to restart the song again, but I stopped him, “No, no,” I said quickly. “Leave it. I know it...I’ll do it without the monitor.” So I picked up the second verse and continued singing. The monitor helps a performer remember the words and gives them something to look at besides the audience. But if a performer really wants to connect with his or her audience, eye contact is essential. So, cue the nerves and perspiration...again!

At the end of the last note, the audience and my karaoke comrades applauded the performance. “Boy!” Dave W. smiled, “Lucky you chose that song! If that was gonna happen, you could not have asked for it to happen during a better song: one you know well!”

No Regrets

On occasion, karaoke singers will ask fellow performers to assist with a duet. I’ve done a few in my time, but I was not prepared for such a request from Elvis Eddie on this day. He asked me if I would sing Elvis Presley’s version of “Amazing Grace” with him. I know the song, but I’d never sung it before. Moreover, certain songs­—namely Gospels and Hymns­—make me weep. I tried to decline Eddie’s request, but he countered my gentle protests with “So, weep.” There was not much time to debate, and I knew I’d regret it if I didn’t try. I agreed to the duet.

Elvis Eddie mugs for the camera...

With Eddie confidently in the lead, I attempted to harmonize with him as I had so often heard the Jordanaires harmonize with Elvis. Focusing more on Eddie, than on the monitor, mine was the weak link of the performance. But it made Eddie happy, and it made the audience happy. The small personal victory: I didn’t choke up or get weepy. I tend to think that perhaps it made God a little happy, too.

Only a handful of residents were left by the time I would sing my final song. I chose a slightly more up-tempo Terri Clark song, “Easy on the Eyes.” As the music started, one elderly lady began to clap along. Then one of the older gentlemen got up and took her by the hand, and they danced. There were smiles all around, and the few audience members who were still there applauded enthusiastically when I finished singing. I felt a little like Ann-Margret in the U.S.O. !

Two hours had passed and the show was over. Judy said, “That’s never happened before.” “What?” I asked. Dave W. told me, “They never danced for anyone before. You did good.” I thought about that. These veterans were appreciative of the time we took to entertain them. They laughed, they cried, and they danced. Dave and Eddie's encouragement was a reminder that I was not there for myself (or my ego)...I was there for the veterans. 

When reflecting on the meaning of Veterans Day, it is important to remember that Freedom is not “free”, it is bought with effort, sacrifice and blood. Without the men and women who served in the United States armed forces, we as citizens of this country would not enjoy the freedoms we often take for granted. Among them are the Freedom to gather together to meet and celebrate and the Freedom to express ourselves in written word and song. Volunteering in this manner was just a meager tolkan of appreciation to the soldiers, and the ideals to which they were dedicated, and the principles for which they fought. None of it is forgotten.

It was a humble way to say “Thank You” for a brave thing they did.

Inspired by veterans every where.

Stand and Deliver: Krispy Kreme Pirate Day

At the local Krispy Kreme, with Kenneth the Doughnut Swabby.

Avast ye SeaDogs! Today is "Talk Like a Pirate Day."

With the popularity of the Disney pirate films in recent years, "Talk Like a Pirate Day" has gotten favourable south winds in its sails, and companies like Krispy Kreme Doughnuts are seeking their share of the promotional "booty."


Today only, in a fun PR promotion, some Krispy Kreme locations are offering one free doughnut to anyone who comes in to their store and talks like a pirate. For those customers who are a little bit more adventurous, Krispy Kreme will give 12 free doughnuts to anyone who comes in DRESSED like a pirate.

Shiver me timbers! This type of craziness is my "cup of grog"! Not only do I get to TALK and DRESS like a pirate...but to be REWARDED for doing so is more than enough reason to venture out early on a stormy Thursday morning for hot, fresh doughnuts.

Yo Ho! to Krispy Kreme doughnut master Kenneth who was a real sport to pose for this photo with me. (The other clerk was not much of a "Jolly Roger" with her chin dragging on the "poop deck"! FYI-The floggings will continue until morale improves. Savvy?)

So swash your buckle on down to the Krispy Kreme shop on Highway 100 in Milwaukee today and say "Ahoy!" to Kenneth and the crew for your tasty doughnut treasure!

Inspired by the letter: Arrrr!

Bum Bunny and the Birthday Surprise

My nephew with Bum Bunny the Gray Hare

When my oldest nephew celebrated his first birthday, my Mom wanted to give him a special gift. So she found an old gray velour shirt that belonged to my Dad. She took it apart seam by seam, stitch by stitch. Using a pattern from a local craft store, Mom carefully cut and pinned each piece. Then, with tears in her eyes, she lovingly sewed the soft pieces of her late husband’s shirt back together.

Little by little, the flat shapes of fabric began to take form. Cotton stuffing filled one piece and then another, until soft and cushy, a little rabbit was “born”. The bunny’s body was round and plump, it’s arms and legs were long and lanky. His floppy ears hung whimsically from either side of his head. 

Mom had sewn a personalized tag in the back seam, which read, “Handmade with Love by Grammy.” My nephew referred to the tag as Bum’s “tail”. He would slip his little finger into the loop of the tag  when he would nap and he also used it as a sort of “handle” to carry Bum around sometimes.

Mom put the rabbit in a lidless box, and wrapped it in colorful paper in a way that would be easy for a 1-year-old to tear open himself. 

The day of my nephew’s birthday party was a hot one. I remember he was in nothing but a diaper most of the time. I can still see in my mind’s eye how he sat in the grass with the present his “Grammy” gave him. My nephew gingerly tore the paper until it revealed the rabbit’s gray “fur”. Suddenly, he tore the wrapping with great purpose, stuck his hand into the box and pulled out the hand-made stuffed animal. My nephew put the rabbit on the grass next to him, and immediately laid his cheek against the rabbit’s soft body. Every adult in the yard responded with an involuntary “awwwww....”, and it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

The family referred to the rabbit as “Bunny” which came out of my nephew’s mouth more like “Bumpa”.  Perhaps it was a cross between “Bunny” and “Grampa” since it was made from his grandfather’s shirt. Certainly my nephew could not have known or understood that at that age, but who knows? Some people believe that children are born with a sort of “sixth sense” about spiritual things we as adults have lost or learned to ignore as we grew up.

Whatever the reason for the pronunciation of the name, eventually my nephew shortened it to “Bum” and the name “Bum Bunny” stuck.

Inseparable Pals

Aunti, Nephew and Bum on July 4th...

My nephew happily shared his bed with his new best friend. The rabbit went every where with him: riding in the car, shopping at the store, and on vacations. Bum had many adventures. My brother and sister-in-law worked full time, and Mom cared for my nephew everyday and Bum accompanied him.

Around bedtime one night, a phone call came from my sister-in-law, asking if Bum was still at our house. No, Mom was certain that he had gone home with my nephew when he was picked up after work. A frantic search began.

My sister-in-law had stopped at a department store on her way home and realized that was the last place she saw Bum. She called the store to see if anyone had turned a stuffed bunny in to the Lost and Found, but the store was already closed for the night. Still, she was sure Bum was there somewhere. Early the next morning, my sister-in-law drove to the store and retraced her every step. There was Bum, perched on one of the shelves among the merchandise in the Baby Department. Someone had found him and simply placed him there. That was a tough night for everyone without Bum, because we had become attached to that little bunny, too.

Read the Story: Click the book title highlighted in the text!

Day in and day out, my nephew would be dropped off at Grammy’s house. Each day, he had a little routine that included breakfast, napping, reading books, exploring the back yard, taking walks to the park, watching cars, and other activities, weather permitting. And all the while, Bum was at his side.

For my nephew’s 3rd birthday, I wrote and illustrated a short story about the rabbit titled, “Bum Bunny and the Busy Day.” In it, Bum does everything my nephew did each day. The visual associations were a great aid in helping him learn to read.

At Christmas time, the animated cartoon “The Bestest Present” (1985) aired on television. It was based on the characters of the popular syndicated comic strip series “For Better of For Worse” created by Canadian cartoonist Lynn Johnston. The storyline was very similar to what had happened when Bum Bunny was lost, and it deeply touched my nephew. Mom recalls how he sat silently watching the program, and had tears in his eyes at the end.

Covering the Gray "Hare" 

The extensive hugging and washings Bum Bunny received over the years began to take its toll. His  gray velour fur began wearing away. My nephew would insist on sticking adhesive band-aids on the worn spots.

Mom did not have enough of the original fabric left over to adequately patch Bum. But she came up with an alternative solution: She would make up a new “skin” for Bum from another of my Dad's velour shirts, and slip it over the old “fur”.  She could do it quickly enough without my nephew missing Bum too much.

The bigger concern was that the second velour shirt was not gray, it was burgundy. Would my nephew understand Bum was still Bum even though he was a different color? Would he still love him?

Brown Bunny with Nephew No. 2...dig the shirt!

I think the project was discussed with my nephew, much like a procedure is explained before going into major surgery. He was shown the burgundy fabric and when my nephew gave his consent, Mom went ahead with the project. She added a bit more stuffing and a fresh “tail”.

When the “refreshed” Bum was presented, we collectively held our breath. Adults tend to worry themselves about silly things that children don’t really give a second thought to. Gray or burgundy, Bum was still Bum. My nephew loved him just the same and was happy to have him back.

Bum Gets a Brother

Exactly one year after my second nephew was born, Mom made a bunny for him, too. His bunny is named “Brown Bunny.” And just like Bum, he became like family. When I made matching fleece sleepers for the boys for Christmas one year, both Bum and Brown Bunny got matching fleece sleepers too. They wore little Green Bay Packers t-shirts during football season. And on Halloween, the bunnies were dressed in “SweeTarts” and “3 Musketeer” bags.

The Bunny Poem

Part of the “Bum Bunny” legacy included chambray shirts with Bum and Brown Bunny embroidered on them. I hand embroidered both gray and burgundy Bum Bunnies on my older nephew’s shirt.

Several years back, I read a small poem about a little stuffed bunny that was well loved. It reminded me of Bum, so I decided to embroider and frame it for Mom. By this time the nephews were in the double-digit age range.  Still, when they saw the craft, they both said, “Aww! I want one like that!”

All Growed Up

Bum doesn’t get out much these days now that my older nephew is in college. But he still sits in his place of honor in my nephew’s bedroom. Bum’s fur is all gone, but the burgundy fabric is still well in tact. The little “tail” label is still there too.

Recently, Mom was going through some boxes in the basement and she came across the scraps of material left over from the Bum Bunny projects. Instead of throwing it away, I got the idea to make a miniature Bum Bunny as a surprise for my nephew’s birthday.

Mini Bum's "bum" and tiny tail...

I carefully examined a bunny Mom had made for me one Christmas. It is a brown bunny made from an old velour shirt that belonged to my brother. I call my bunny ­—what else?—“Velveteen.” I sketched the pieces of a pattern and carefully cut them out. I sewed each piece by hand. I even made a small “tail” out of ribbon and in tiny letters, embroidered “LUV YA” on it. I giggled as the mini Bum Bunny began to take shape, and I hoped my nephew would like it.

I hoped he would not think it was silly or stupid, or worse yet, embarrassing in front of his friends. On the contrary, when my nephew opened his gifts at this 19th Birthday party, his reaction was more than I could have imagined. Even with gifts of the sporting and monetary kind, he was truly surprised and enjoyed the mini Bum Bunny. He even presented big Bum Bunny for all his party guests to see.

My younger nephew, whose birthday is in December, held mini Bum and asked my Mom, “Do you have a little Brown Bunny for me? I don’t want to wait.” Once again, proving that silly adults sometimes worrying about nothing.

A big surprise in a very little package!

I have ideas for additional Bum Bunny “merchandise” as future birthday and Christmas gifts for the nephews. But I will always smile when I think of “Bum Bunny and the Birthday Surprise.”



Inspired by my nephew’s wonderfully childlike heart...on his 19th birthday.

Billy Idol gives "More, More, More"

Billy Idol Tour Shirt 2013

I had seen Billy Idol in concert twice at Alpine Valley in the 1980s. So when I heard he was coming to Summerfest on June 27th, there was absolutely no way I was going to miss his show. My first inclination was to call Amy, my best college friend and bosomy buddy. She and I had gone to Billy's concerts together back in the day. However, she just had a brand new baby boy (shout out to Baby Alexander!), so she was not available. My other friends were going to see another band, and my 40-hour-a-week employed friends could not get the day off. So the honor of attending the hard-rocking concert with me fell to…you guessed it…my Mom. 

The Festival Experience 

Just outside the Marcus Amphitheater at the south end of Henry Maier Festival Park is the new BMO Harris stage. It's an amphitheater about 1/2 the size of Marcus, with it's stage facing west and the audience east (a set up that is opposite of Marcus). Reserved tickets could have been ordered in advance online for a $5 handling fee per ticket. Festival-goers could get free reserved seats at 2 p.m. at the box office on the festival grounds on the day of the show. By the time we had arrived just after 2 p.m., we learned eager fans had waited in line since noon and all the free tickets were given out in less than 20 minutes. At that point, there was no choice but to take our chances with the totally free "first-come-first-served" bleacher seating. 

It was Senior Day and admission for Mom was free, so I only had to use one ticket for myself. (Shout out to my buddy Khay for the ticket!) The day started out sunny and hot, even down by the lake it was a balmy 78 degrees. But shortly after arriving, true to typical Milwaukee weather, clouds rolled in from the Northwest and there was a sudden downpour of rain. Thank goodness we were under the protection of the amphitheater! It cooled off some, but the clouds drifted over Lake Michigan, the atmosphere heated up again. 

We made our way slowly from one end of the festival park to the other, looking at exhibits and gathering freebies along the way. We grabbed dinner at Wong's Wok. The Wok is always a good value at Summerfest as the food is fresh and hot, the proportions are generous, the prices are reasonable and the lines are short and move quickly. Mom and I shared an Empress plate of Sweet Sour Chicken with Shrimp Fried Rice and an Imperial Egg Roll for under $10. Yum!

Scoring some decent bleacher seats for Billy Idol's concert.

Setting the Stage 

About 7 p.m., we meandered to the bleacher section of the BMO Harris stage and found seats centrally located in the fifth row. The people around us seemed fun and nice and not at all obnoxious. The median age of the audience was a comfortable 40-something. There were only a handful of folks that were "dressed the part". One really old lady was covered head to foot with faded wrinkly tattoos. She was a hot mess. Another skinny old lady wore a blue spandex dress with a Union Jack design, white fishnet stockings and white knee-hi go-go boots…all of which hung very loose on her skeletal form. Another woman seemed out of place because she wore a gold sequined mini dress as if she were attending a wedding reception and not a lakefront music festival. Nonetheless, it was fun to "People Watch." 

A bit of a heavenly light show before the concert.

The opening act "Cherry Pie" performed music from artists like Tesla, Skid Row, AeroSmith and AC/DC. The weather began to turn ominous again…nasty clouds, lightning and wind…and the band finished their set with an appropriate rendition of "Rock U Like a Hurricane". Mom was getting concerned, but I felt safer in BMO than I ever did at Marcus during a storm. 

Eventually, the storms moved out over the lake, and the clouds broke in the west and a double rainbow appeared. God put on one wild nature show to which no man-made light show or pyrotechnics could compare! 

It's Show Time! 

Finally...FINALLY...the sun went down and Billy Idol's band came out exactly at 9:45 p.m. Suddenly, I was 21 again...screaming like a...a...crazed fan! I can't believe how exciting it was! I forgot how electrifying Billy Idol is! Billy opened the show with "Dancing with Myself" to the deafening cheers from a crowd filled to capacity. Although he did not sport his signature fingerless gloves, he was clad in a mix of black leather and demin with studded details, and a variety of shirts from a white button-down to black t-shirt. Billy Idol still has it. He's still hot, hot, HOT. 
 

Going into the concert, I was a little worried about how Billy's persona would have held up over the years. Sometimes, its possible to carry great memories of a Star's younger days only to find the Star's "glitter" has faded to a disappointing level. But this is not the case with Billy Idol. MAN! Whew! I'm smiling still just writing about it. He is in great shape physically. He made his wardrobe changes directly on stage, taking his shirts off (to the delight of the crowd) quite often. His voice is still easily identifiable "Billy Idol". 

I was also concerned about Mom. It was a long day, turning into a long night and I wasn't sure what her stamina level would allow. Plus, I was a little worried that Billy might say or do something that she might find offensive. When she leaned over to me and quoted Adam Sandler from the 1998 movie The Wedding Singer: "Billy Idol gets it", I knew she was having a good time. Additionally, I think she was enjoying ME having a good time. 

Billy Idol and his Abs on the JumboTron

In a mix of riotous tunes and melodious ballads, Billy performed some of this greatest hits with a seasoning of lesser known songs and delighted the audience with a catchy new single "Love and Glory." Versatile and talented, he sang songs like "Sweet Sixteen" and told a little history behind the song. When he sang "Mony Mony"...there's always that little added segment that starts out "Hey! Hey What?"...some of you may know the rest of the R-Rated response, but I always preferred the tamer Wisconsin version of it: "Eat Cheese, Drink Milk".  

Moving On Up

About midway through the show, some people two rows ahead of us left the concert. The people in the first 2 rows weren't standing much, so I told mom we'd move up so she could sit during the show and still see Billy. We were then in the 3rd row with a little better view. 

There was a musical interlude when the entire band left the stage, save for master guitarist Steve Stevens, Billy's long time lead guitarist. He played a riveting guitar solo that encompassed classical fingering with a Spanish flavor and the opening measures of "Stairway to Heaven" which delighted the fans. 

Then, the people in the first row of the bleachers left, and Mom shouted, "Come on!" and we went down further to sit in the front row. We could not have enjoyed better seats! Billy performed "White Wedding" to the pleasure of the crowd. When he sang "L.A. Woman" he substituted "Milwaukee" in place of "L.A." and, of course, the audience LOVED that! 
 

Classic Billy Idol and his "Rebel Yell"

He finished his show with "Rebel Yell" as his encore, the light show behind him displayed multiple images of his face and his name in rapid succession of colors. He then introduced each band member, especially thanking Steve. Then Billy addressed the audience: "Milwaukee...thanks for making my life so f***ing great!" Then he shouted, "I'm on guitar and I'm Billy F***ing IDOL! See you next year!" and his audience went wild! And truly, it was HIS audience. This crowd came to see Billy Idol and he gave them everything they came for. 

A Lasting Impression

There were smiles all around the sea of concert-goers as Mom and I slowly made our way to exit at the main gate. "Well," I commented to Mom, "Billy only used the F-word a few times." "Yes..." Mom replied, "But why did his mom name him THAT?" (You gotta love Mom's sense of humor!) "Eh," I mused, "That might have been his dad's idea." We walked along further. "When I tell people I saw Billy Idol," Mom informed me, "I'm not going to use his middle name." "That's fine...." I laughed as I put my arm around her shoulders. "In the Midnight hour", as we walked down the street to our parked car, Mom smiled, "Your friends missed a good show." Indeed they did. 

Billy Idol and me...

Epilogue

Over the years, I have attended many "Oldies" concerts with Mom. Together we've seen performances by Ricky Nelson, Jan and Dean, Bobby Vee, The Platters, Frankie Vallie, Peter Noone, Gene Pitney, and The Buckinghams, just to name a few. But here and there, Mom has come with me to see some of the bands and performers my friends and I used to listen to on the radio: Survivor, Loverboy and now Billy Idol. I waited a couple days to post this entry on my blog, because I wanted to get a sense of Mom's overall impression of Billy Idol and his show. I overhear Mom readily relay her concert experience to family and friends, and it sounds like she had a pretty good time. That makes me smile. 

One last thing: If I could, I'd say "Thanks, Billy" for yet another memorable concert experience.

The Main Event

Sean O'Grady and Al Albert ringside.

From 1982 to 1997, the USA Network on cable television broadcasted a sports series called “USA Tuesday Night Fights.” Hosted by Al Albert and former lightweight champion Sean O’Grady, it was a weekly program that featured up-and-coming amateur boxers. My Dad would watch these matches and one night he called out to me, “Come watch this fight.”

 

Ingrid Bergman teaching boxing from a manual...

Now, I had never watched a boxing match in my life, and I knew nothing more than seeing Ingrid Bergman shuffling her feet in the 1945 movie, The Bells of St. Mary. In the film, Bergman portrays “Sister Benedict”, a strong-willed nun who matches wits with Bing Crosby’s laid-back character “Father O’Malley”. Set in a Catholic school, both have different ideas regarding how to administer to the students. While Sr. Benedict does not condone fighting, in one scene she takes it upon herself to teach one of the schoolboys how to defend himself against the schoolyard bully. “Keep your hands up,” “Guard your chin,” and “Keep your feet moving” are some of the tips she gives the boy as she bobs and weaves in her religious habit. 

I had no idea why my Dad wanted me to watch boxing on television, but I was never one to turn down any amount of “Daddy-Daughter” Time. It’s not what you do, but whom you are doing it with that matters most. And if my Dad wanted to watch two guys pummel each other silly with me, well then all right, I was there whole-heartedly.

“Watch this kid fight,” Dad said as I sat down on the floor in front of the television. The “kid” he was referring to was Anthony Boyle, a young boxer from Philadelphia. His opponent was a fellow pugilist with whom he grew up and trained alongside. Then Dad added, “He’s fighting his against his best friend.” 

WAIT. What now? I could not imagine punching my best friend in the face for any reason! I drew a deep breath and thought, ‘Okay, this’ll be over in like, what—ten maybe 15 minutes tops?’ and I could get back to my regularly scheduled college-life activity.

The match was, by far, the BEST boxing I had ever watched. It was clear these two athletes put everything they had into that bout. Even to a spectator with an untrained eye like mine, it was obvious that the match was more of a display of skill and a game of strategy. How to avoid being hurt by what your skillful opponent is throwing at you. Friends or not, the competitors were relentless. 

It was back-and-forth, non-stop action. I could hear Sister Benedict’s voice “keep moving, guard your chin” as I watched both men: one trying to land a clean punch to earn judges’ points, the other anticipating the moves and countering with a block or combination of his own punches. 

As I sat on the floor in front of the television, my body twitched left, then right, involuntarily reacting to the action on the screen. Quiet bursts of “uh!” and “er!” inexplicably emitted from my throat. From behind me, I could hear my Dad softly chuckling as he watched my response to the fight with mild amusement. 

At the conclusion of the fight, the most amazing thing happened. In my mind’s eye, I can still see the post-match turmoil in the middle of the boxing ring and the two fierce competitors breathlessly embraced. Their “game faces” gone, their body language completely relaxed. They appeared to be just a couple of “buddies”. 

Looking back at Dad, I began asking questions about the sport. He patiently answered each one. It was a lesson in control and discipline. Dad had a sort of “I-told-you-so” smile on his face because he knew I was hooked. We enjoyed watching the fights together every Tuesday night from then on. 

Anthony Boyle had a winning career with 26 bouts in the W column (with 12 KO), only 6 Losses and 1 Draw.  Mr. Boyle is still active with the Pennsylvania Golden Gloves Boxing organization were he got his own start in the sport. In an email correspondence, he told me there have been so many fights, it is hard to recall the details to all of them. 

Father's Day a long time ago: my brother, Dad, and me.

This is true for spectators as well. I did not recall the name of Boyle’s opponent in that bout. I don’t remember how long it lasted. I don’t even remember which boxer won the match, although online resources would strongly suggest it was Boyle. 

There is one thing I will never forget about this Main Event: it provided a connection to Dad that I never would have imagined and one that I will always cherish.

Inspired by Father's Day.

Tuesdays with Ronny

Uncle Ron keeping his eye on the ball; 55+ League 2012.

 Spring is in full swing, so are the city softball leagues. Tuesday mornings the ball diamonds at Burnham Park are teeming with seasoned ballplayers of the 55+ League.  

The friendly league is as fair as it can be. There is a "5-Run Inning" rule that ends an inning in the event of one team scoring five runs, to give equal opportunity of play for both teams.

Team rosters change each season, so that every player has the opportunity to have a winning season. Fellows who played against each other the previous season may find themselves on the same team the next. There are no “Ringers”…a term usually reserved for beefy homerun hitters brought in to tilt the scales in favor of one team over another. At best, a team may have a “Bionic Man” … a player with two knee braces—evidence of joint replacement surgery.

Schaff's Funeral Service players rest between innings, 2012.

Whereas younger leagues are sponsored in large part by taverns and pubs hoping team members will patronize their fine establishments after the games, the 55+ League is sponsored mostly by local funeral homes. One player joked that the sponsoring home’s name on his back was not advertising…it was a “shipping label.”

The 55+ games are played at a significantly slower pace than other leagues. Though the participants are not as agile as they once were, there is definitely an effort put forth by each player. There are occasional bobble and missed catches. While the majority of the participants are laughing and laid-back, there are one or two who are still overtly competitive. I’ve come to the conclusion that young men who scrap and complain on the ball diamond grow to become old men who still scrap and complain on the ball diamond. All in all, it is a morning of activity and camaraderie.  

55+ League 2012 Champions with their two biggest fans!

Although my 80-year-old Uncle Ron no longer plays, he is still involved in the league, keeping score for one of the teams. His last two years as an active player saw both his teams playing in the Championship games. Wearing the team colors and cheering them on, Mom and I attended almost every game last season.

The summer of 2012 was the final active season for my uncle. When his team won the Championship game, he decided to retire and hang up his cleats on a high-note. We teased him that he might do a “Favre” and come out of retirement once “Spring Fever” got into his blood. But, as he assured us, that did not happen. 

"Coach" Ron shouts some encouragement from the bench, 2013.

This year, Uncle Ron seems content watching from the bench, keeping score, recording statistics, taking photos and providing encouragement to his team. Although he is not playing, my uncle still expects Mom and me to be in the bleachers…so do some of the other players who have come to know us from last season. 

As I observed him watching the action on the field, I wondered what he was thinking about. Was he wishing he were out there with them? Was he calculating the players’ next moves like a chess match? Then again, knowing the way my uncle’s brain works, I thought it more likely that he was daydreaming about “a time when…” and I was not far off with that assumption.

Uncle Ron walked over to us with a smile and related the following story from his early days playing for a former employer’s team:

“When I was playing infield a ground ball was hit to me. The runner from first base started to run. I was going to turn the double play. I got that ball in my glove. I spun around. You know that movie with that guy looking out over the horizon?”

“What?” I asked, my mind racing through all the baseball movies I could think of: The Natural? Field of Dreams? Bad News Bears—the 1976 original with Walter Matthau, or the 2005 remake?

Who's covering Second Base?

“That guy in the desert,” replied my uncle.

“Who? Lawrence of Arabia?” guessed Mom. 

“Yeah,” said Uncle Ron.

Wait. I was confused. Was there a baseball scene in Lawrence of Arabia? 

“When I turned to flip the ball to second base,” my uncle continued, “there was not a soul in sight! It was like a barren desert. A wasteland. No one was covering second base.” My uncle chuckled, “So I had to throw to first base. And the other guys kidded that I was the only one who had studied the playbook.”

Uncle Ron then turned his attention back to the field of play. Not more than five minutes later, the exact sequence of events my uncle had just described played out on the field before us. Uncle Ron shot me a mixed glance of amusement and surprise, and whispered, “That’s what I just talked about!” I nodded and whispered back, “I saw that!” 

Peanuts, Cracker Jacks and Donuts...

A few moments later, Uncle Ron pointed out that one of the players had brought donuts. This triggered another memory of “a time when…” for him. On this remembered occasion, he was not playing but coaching a game. On the way to the game, Uncle Ron had stopped to buy donuts for his little league team. The boys were down 19 – 2, and he was coaching at first base. One of his players hollered over to him, “Hey, Coach!” 

“Yeah, what is it?” Uncle Ron yelled back.

“There’s one donut left in the box,” the boy shouted, “Do you think I could have it?”

Uncle Ron explains the FUNdamentals of the game; 2013.

“No!” my uncle answered him. Uncle Ron chuckled at the memory, “He was more concerned about the donuts."

"Yep," I laughed, "I guess his priorities were situational.” 

Then turning his attention back to the present day’s game, Uncle Ron yelled to his team, “Hey! Who made that last out?”

Watching the Tuesday morning 55+ League is entertaining. Enjoying it with Uncle Ron is really something special.

Inspired by the “Senior Boys of Summer.”

Drop the Top: It’s Classic Car Season!

1939 Ford V8 Deluxe at a Retro McDonald's.

According to the calendar Spring is here and Summer is not too far behind. People all over are eager to enjoy some outdoor activities. One of my favorite past-times is attending area Classic Car shows.

Though I'm pretty good at finding my way around a car engine—I know difference between a distributor cap and a radiator cap, and I also know there is no such thing as “blinker fluid” or “fan belt buckles”—it is the outside of the cars that are "Objets d'Art". The rich colors of the paint, the graceful and sleek lines of the car bodies are a thing of beauty. And the details! From chrome radiator grills to padded jumpseats, art deco hood ornaments to retro tailfins, each automobile is a work of art. There is  tremendous appreciation for the engineers who designed and developed these machines over the decades, and even more awesome are the guys who painstakingly restore these pieces of history in their garages...and keep them running!

The winged Art Deco hood ornament of a 1939 Packard.

Some fellows restore the cars to near factory specifications, while others customize their “babies” to Street Rod status. I love browsing the “Work in Progress” photo albums in which proud owners display a pictorial of the step-by-step restoration process of their cars. The stories about why they like this make of car over that one; how they found the frame for this car or a specific part for that car; or what challenges they faced in restoring their cars, are told time and again to anyone who is willing to listen.

Car Buffs: Can you identify this chrome detail?

More than this, I love to hear about the memories behind the original vehicles they drove. Where did they go? Who were they dating? What songs were playing on the radio at the time?

Yeah….oh, yeah…the music of the day is a large part of those memories. Whether smooching with your honey to The Platters’ “Twilight Time” or cruising with your buddies while listening to Ronny and the Daytona’s “Little GTO”, there was always a spontaneous “soundtrack” for the appropriate moment.

The chrome grill of a 1937 Buick.

It’s no different at the classic car shows. The proprietors of some establishments that host shows provide a disc jockey to play the original tunes during the event. Others often hire live bands to play the “oldies.” One such venue is “Georgie Porgie’s” in Oak Creek, Wisconsin.

A classic 1950s Tail Fin.

Georgie Porgie’s is a cool little frozen custard stand and hamburger hangout with the interior décor of a kid’s tree fort. It is loaded with nostalgic trinkets and memorabilia from Kid-dom of days gone by. A nice touch is the PA system, when taking your order, the counter clerk speaks into a tin can on a string—really an electrical wire covered by a washline. The charm is undeniable. Georgie’s has an outdoor “backyard” area where guests can sit and enjoy their purchases while listening to the live band.

One of the bands often featured at Georgie’s is Chuck Travis and the Doo-Wa-Wa. They perform a vast array of car tunes and road music from The Beach Boys “409” and Wilson Pickett’s “Mustang Sally” to Bruce Springsteen’s “Pink Cadillac”. Chuck’s band is so popular that some people will go from car show to car show just to hear them play. Part of the added fun is that Chuck will often showcase other musicians and singers who happen to be in attendance.

Yep! That's me rockin' the mic with Chuck Travis (right).

 The sights, sounds and tastes of the “good old days” are just around the corner and classic cars—restored to factory specs or suped-up to street rods—will be out in force this summer making new memories. Weather permitting.
 

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Check out the "Sweet Nothin's" music video on my YouTube channel!

Inspired by Classic Cars and Golden Oldies.

My First Paying Gig

Cheryl Michalek the Artist

I’ve been following a thread on one of the online discussion boards for a professional designer group I belong to, and the question came up “What do you charge for freelance work?” The posting caused quite a buzz among freelance designers and some of the entries got me thinking about my first “paying gig” as an artist.

My first paying gig came when I was a senor in high school. I attended what at that time was considered the County’s premiere “High School for the Arts” which offered specialized curriculum in Music, Dance, Theater and Fine Arts. For the most part of my high school years, I was enrolled in the Art Specialty program that featured drawing, painting and art history.

I had a knack for drawing caricatures, and I guess that talent caught the attention of Leslie, one of my classmates. One day, Leslie approached me and asked if I would be interested in doing caricatures for a free children’s fair that was being held at her church. Outside of doing self-portraits, I had never drawn from a live model before. All my sketches of people had been done from observational memory.

...resulted from first gig!

More detailed drawings...

I was hesitant at first, because outside of goofing around with friends, I never really shared my sketches en masse. But Leslie insisted it would be easy, it would only be for a couple of hours, and the children­—being fairly young—wouldn’t have too much expectation of my abilities. Thinking about it for a nano-second, a voice in my head said: “why not?” So I told Leslie, yes, I would do it.

Then came the question every artist dreads: “How much do you charge?”

How much do I charge?  A professional artist could charge per project or by the hour. I was hardly a professional, I didn’t have a set rate. I was just a kid really. I didn’t know what was appropriate for spontaneous art…the teachers didn’t cover that in Art Specialty school! Still, I had to come up with an answer. I babysat the neighbor children for $2.00 an hour, so I stammered, “uhmnuh…five dollars?”

“Great!” Leslie smiled cheerfully, “I’ll let my dad know you’ll do it!”

Personalized for each kid.

The day of the Children’s Festival at Leslie’s church arrived. I remember it was a warm sunny Saturday morning. I wore a multi-colored pastel striped blouse with short sleeves and a lavender colored wrap-skirt. When I arrived at the church, Leslie showed me to the lower hall where the festival was set up. There were a vast array of fun games to play, crafts to make, candies and treats to eat, and a clown who made animals out of twisted balloons.

In one corner of the church hall, a card table and two folding chairs were set up. There was a handmade sign “CARICATURES” hanging on the wall above the table. I brought a sketchbook and several types of drawing media: pencils, pastels, charcoal, and conté crayons.

Customized as a "Precious Moments"

I was a bit apprehensive. Scores of children arrived and scattered in every direction, naturally drawn to the bright colors of the balloons, games and candy. Largely ignored, I sat waiting. Finally, a little girl came over and inquired what the sign said. She couldn’t read, and she didn’t know what a caricature was. “I draw pictures,” I explained. “Would you like me to draw you?”

She sat down on the chair opposite me, and I looked at her face. “Its okay to smile,” I said. When she did, the curves of her face were more defined, there was a twinkle in her eye, and her personality came through. That made it easier to SEE her…and draw HER. The strokes on the paper started out slow and deliberate, but I soon realized that I could get better results with quicker generic strokes. Switching from one medium to another, I finally got a feel for my preferred choice for quick sketches: charcoal. It was easy to manipulate on the paper and create light and dark contrasts as well as fast shadowing.

Caricature used in a birthday greeting.

I remember one boy who sat for me, but refused to smile. No matter what I said to try to make him smile, nothing worked. “Okay,” I sighed, “You win. It’s your picture,” and I drew him with the scowl on his face. When I showed him the finished drawing, his face lit up with the smile I was trying to coax from him! He went around showing the art to his little buddies and soon, there were many children lined up waiting to sit for me. I had to work faster. I drew girls and boys, chubby faces, freckled faces, big smiles with missing teeth and bright eyes that peeped out expectantly behind eyeglasses. Some personalities were easy to discern, while others I had to squint my eyes a little bit to see.

All told, I think I may have sketched two dozen kids that day. Time passed quickly and the festival was over before I knew it. I was unable to draw all the children, and had to turn some of them away at the very end.

Cha-CHING! $10.00 was a lot of money back in the day!

As I was getting ready to leave, Leslie’s father came over to settle up payment with me. He asked me to remind him what price was agreed upon before hand. I told him, “Five dollars.” He smiled and said, “You did a wonderful job, you deserve more than that.” Then he handed me a $10 bill!

In the years that have since passed, I have done caricature drawings at several events, including a local high school “Senior Lock In”, and corporate Christmas parties. I’ve also been commissioned to draw many caricatures as gifts for other people. I've honed my craft, and learned to charge accordingly. I’ve also learned that many clients expect “freelance” to be “free.” Putting a price on talent can be difficult, especially when that talent is your own.

Whenever the negotiation of a fair price and livable wage gets rough, I think about my first “paying gig” when my “client” valued my work TWICE as much as I did.

Inspired by the perceived value of talent. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The drawings here were done years after that first gig. Unfortunately, I don't have any of the charcoal sketches I'd done for the children to share with my readers today.