60

Last week the candle factory burned down. Everyone just stood around and sang "Happy Birthday."

~ Steven Wright

I'm not sure how I feel about this. Yeah, I know I've said things like, "Growing old is required, growing up is optional," "It beats the alternative," and stuff like that (and those are both true, by the way) but, for some reason, I am a little bit bothered. This is not to say that I'm going to start counting in months rather than years but this is the first time that I've wondered if I'll see the next round number. When I was 20, it didn't occur to me that I might not turn 30 and so forth at 30 and 40 and even 50 but 60, well...

But wait!!! You make it to 60! You didn't think you would! So you become 21, turn 30, push 40, reach 50 and make it to 60!

~ George Carlin

I'm not where I thought I'd be by now. That's my problem. In hindsight, I never thought ahead to where I wanted to be at 60. I just went along with everything and swept up others in my path as I went by or, conversely, was swept along as others went by me.

The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time

Any fool can do it

There ain't nothing to it

Nobody knows how we got to the top of the hill

But since we're on our way down

We might as well enjoy the ride

~ James Taylor

I have very little room to complain. I am blessed with a wonderful family and the best friends any man could ask for. Despite my occasional missteps that may make her think otherwise, almost 38 years later there is no one I love more than my wife. I married well.

Long ago I heard the song that lovers sing to me

And through the days with each new phrase I hummed that melody

And all along I loved the song but I never learned it through

But since the day you came along, I've saved it just for you

~ Don McLean

So why my discontent? Let me put it this way. I watch a lot of old movies and when I look at the credits, I always recognize the names that are listed first and second and, usually, third. But there are many times when I look at a name that is fourth or fifth on the list that is unfamiliar to me and I think about that person. They were nice looking. They knew their lines. They probably thought that, boy oh boy, they were really on their way; after all, being billed right after... but something must have happened. Or not happened. Now they're gone - long gone - and they never got higher than fourth or fifth billing.

Then I think about me and not being wherever it is I wanted to be having just made it to 60 and all. I'm not even sure where I am in the production.

And the seasons they go round and round

Painted ponies go up and down

We're captive on the carousel of time

We can’t return, we can only look behind

From where we came

And go round and round and round

In the circle game

~ Joni Mitchell

Still and all, my choice is stark. I can either wallow in ennui or, as I'm sure Loretta Castorini would admonish, snap out of it. I choose the latter. Maybe I am listed 14th in the cast; on the other hand, maybe I'm 4th - and climbing!

No point in worrying about growing old. I'll get over it eventually.

I told you my reasons for the whole revival

Now I'm going outside to have an ice cold beer in the shade

Oh, I'm going to listen to my 45s

Ain't it wonderful to be alive

When the rock 'n' roll plays, yeah

When the memory stays, yeah

I'm keeping the faith

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, keeping the faith

~ Billy Joel

Will Robinson is on his own now

Sad news as we bid farewell to another boomer icon. Bob May passed away last Sunday, January 18th. He was 69. You probably don’t recognize the name but you’ll know him when you see him here:

Bob played the robot in the hit 1960s television show "Lost in Space." However, he didn't provide the robot's distinctive voice; that was done by announcer Dick Tufeld.

Mr. May's robot was the Robinson family's loyal sidekick, warning them of approaching disaster at every turn. His line to one of the children, "Danger, Will Robinson!" became a national catch phrase.

"He always said he got the job because he fit in the robot suit," said June Lockhart, who played family matriarch Maureen Robinson. "It was one of those wonderful Hollywood stories. He just happened to be on the studio lot when someone saw him and sent him to see Irwin Allen about the part. Allen said, 'If you can fit in the suit, you've got the job.'"

In a related story, the two terms of George W. Bush ended on Tuesday, January 20th. He was 62.

George played the title role in the 43rd presidency of the United States. Mr. Bush was the vice-president’s loyal sidekick, waving his arms and warning of approaching disaster at every turn. His line to the world on board the USS Abraham Lincoln in 2003, “Mission Accomplished” became a national catch phrase.

Pundits suspect that Bush did not provide the distinctive voice of the administration. In fact, most assume that aides tried to keep his speaking parts to a minimum although sometimes he got away:

"This morning my administration released the budget numbers for fiscal 2006. These budget numbers are not just estimates; these are the actual results for the fiscal year that ended February the 30th." -- On the fiscal year that ended on Sept. 30 (Washington, D.C., October 11, 2006)

"Then you wake up at the high school level and find out that the illiteracy level of our children are appalling." -- Washington, D.C., January 23, 2004

"I'm the commander - see, I don't need to explain - I do not need to explain why I say things. That's the interesting thing about being president." -- George W. Bush, as quoted in Bob Woodward's Bush at War (2002)

Many people believe that Bush got the job not because he could fit into the suit but because of how he fit into a lawsuit. He himself provided a bit of insight into his feelings about seeking the presidency in a speech in New Hampshire during his first campaign:

"This is Preservation Month. I appreciate preservation. It's what you do when you run for president. You gotta preserve." -- Speaking during "Perseverance Month" at Fairgrounds Elementary School in Nashua, New Hampshire, January 28, 2000

True statesmanship is the art of changing a nation from what it is into what it ought to be

My theory has always been that if we are to dream, the flatteries of hope are as cheap - and pleasanter - than the gloom of despair.

Thomas Jefferson, 1817

He that will not apply new remedies must expect new evils.

Sir Francis Bacon (1561-1626)

We ain't got a black president, Jefferson, because God ain’t ready for that yet.

Archie Bunker to George Jefferson, "All in the Family" @ 1975

Obama said Sasha, who is 7 years old, stared at Lincoln's second inaugural address and said, "Looks long." She asked if her dad's speech would be that long.

To which Malia, 10, replied, "First African-American president, better be good."

Washington Post, January 15, 2009

Bartlet: Why are you doing this? You are a player. You are bigger in the party than I am. Hoynes would probably make you national chairman. Leo, tell me this isn't one of the twelve steps.
Leo: That's what it is. Right after admitting that we are powerless over alcohol and a higher power can restore us to sanity. That's where you come in.
Bartlet: Leo....
Leo: Because I am tired of it. Year, after year, after year. Of having to choose between the lesser of Who Cares. Of trying to get myself excited over a candidate who can speak in complete sentences. Of setting the bar so low I can hardly look at it. They say a good man can't get elected president. I don't believe that. Do you?
Bartlet: And you think I'm that man?
Leo: Yes.
Bartlet: Doesn't it matter that I'm not as sure?
Leo: Nah. 'Act as if ye have faith and faith shall be given to you.' Put another way, 'Fake it until you make it.'

The West Wing, "In the Shadow of Two Gunmen, Part II," 2000

Bartlet: What's on your mind?
Toby: 'The era of big government is over.'
Bartlet: You want to cut the line.
Toby: I want to change the sentiment. We're running away from ourselves and I know we can score points that way. I was a principal architect of that campaign strategy right along with you and Josh. But we're here now. Tomorrow night we do an immense thing; we have to say what we feel, that government, no matter what it's failures in the past and in times to come for that matter, government can be a place where people come together and where no one gets left behind. No one... gets left behind. An instrument of good.

The West Wing, "He Shall, from Time to Time..., " 1999

Official Pitcher

My dad died 11 years ago today. He was 79 years old, born on Mother's Day, 1919. That's him in 1983, only about 4 years older than I am now.

He was a good guy and people who knew him say that we are a lot alike. Maybe so, but such was not always the case. Thanks to him, we came from very different backgrounds. He was one of 13 children and their family didn't have much; dad saw to it that our family had everything he could give us. He was something of a character in his early days and there are apocryphal stories told about how my grandfather wasn't too keen on this guy marrying his daughter. True or not, he didn't go to the wedding. There's another difference: I'm sure that Margie's father never had any qualms about me. [Oh, all right, maybe a few - but at least he was at the wedding!] Regardless of any in-law misgivings, we both married well.

When it came to sports, I'm sure that I was a disappointment as a kid. I wasn't much of an athlete. Whenever there were softball games on the playground, dad was always the "official pitcher" meaning that he pitched to both teams. Other kids would come to our door asking if he would pitch, and he always said yes. What does it say when kids come to ask if your dad can come out and play? I didn't realize it then but I suspect that he agreed because it was the only way I would get picked for a team.

He was a sales rep for General Cigar Company and a pretty good one at that. However, he rarely smoked cigars except when the boss was in town. The boss was Edgar Cullman, a Yale man. I say that because one of my favorite memories of dad happened one autumn Saturday afternoon when Yale played Penn here in Philadelphia. Now, whenever Yale played here in town, Edgar would fly in with his son on the corporate jet and dad would meet him and they would all go to the football game. Well, one year, Edgar's son was days (or hours) away from being a new father so I drew the golden ticket. We sat on the Yale side and, friends, I can't imagine that there has ever been so much tweed in one place before or after. Anyway, there we are sitting with the Yalies and not much is going on. All of a sudden, dad leans over to me and says, "They're gonna hate me for doing this." Hardly had these words left his lips than he jumped to his feet and yelled, "GO QUAKERS!" This made the tweed rustle for a few seconds and Dad loved it. Penn won that day so he probably also made a few bucks off of the chairman of the board. I'm sure he loved that too.

Most of the companies he called on were candy and tobacco wholesalers in towns like DuBois, St. Marys, Hazleton et al. Many of the people who ran them were minorities - African Americans, Jews, women - and this was back in the day when minorities were just starting to really stand up for themselves. They all liked dad and he liked them. He told me once that there are good and bad people in the world of every kind and color. Never judge others just by what they look like or where they go to church.

I can hear him saying this now as though it was this morning and I have never forgotten it. I may not always succeed but I try to live my life this way so, if he and I are alike, I hope that this is one of the ways.

Did we have our differences? Uh, well... yes but he always stood up for me. He was always my official pitcher. If I wasn't quite the boy he expected, I hope that he was proud of the man I became.

Thanks dad. You were right about Sinatra (but I was right about the Beatles).

That old feeling

Happy new year everyone! The presents are opened, the cookies eaten, the champagne drunk, the ball dropped and perhaps, in some cases, the tree already packed away to the attic or thrown to the curb, as the case may be.

The end of the Christmas season is always a little depressing for me because there isn't much to step into the cold, dark void that it leaves behind. Back to work or school and slogging it out until spring is the lot of most of us.

When I was a kid, our family always went to my grandparents' house for Christmas (in fact, for just about every holiday but Christmas for sure). When it was inevitably time to go, I would fall victim to an uncomfortable feeling of melancholy and dread at the thought of leaving, wanting to stay a lot, or even just a little, longer. "Don't go home," Meem and Gramps would always say sadly knowing, of course, that we must. It was part of the farewell ritual.

My grandparents would walk out to the car with us and then stand at the top of their front steps. They lived on a hill and dad didn't like to make the left turn into traffic from the bottom of it so he would drive up the street, over one and then down that street to make the turn from there. Thus, we would always drive past their street again and look back up the hill to their house. They would always wait for us to go by so there was the requisite slowing down, horn honking and waving followed by miles of me sitting in the back seat fighting that uneasy feeling.

Those days are long gone of course but, in my mind's eye, I see Meem and Gramps standing there at the top of the steps, waving. I like to think that they are standing there still, waiting to welcome us back.

For the past three-and-a-half decades we have always had Christmas at our house. This year, however, we spent Christmas with our daughter, son-in-law and granddaughter and had a great time. Ashton took about seven hours to open her presents, apparently needing to savor each one before moving on to the next. The rest of the week flew by enjoying a host of activities not the least of which was watching Ashton's favorite movies. We found Nemo daily, sometimes twice a day. We cheered on Shrek, Shrek 2 and Shrek 3 (pray God this is all there are). Shark Tale, Toy Story, Ratatouille, you name it and if Pixar made it, we probably watched all or part of it. Say what you will about TCM but at least the characters are human!

Anyway, we had a wonderful week that went by way too fast.

On Tuesday, we packed the car and headed for home. Missy, Matt & Ashton walked out with us to say good-bye. Since their townhouse is an end unit, we drove down the parking lot and then up and around so that we went past them again standing at their front steps. Of course, there was the requisite slowing down, horn honking and waving.

And suddenly, I felt an old familiar feeling all over again.