LA MANZANILLA, Jalisco, Mexico - One of my favorite places on earth is the little pueblo of La Manzanilla, two hours (by car) south of Puerto Vallarta. By sailboat, it's about 24 hours if everything goes perfectly.
I never made it in 24 hours in four trips there.
But the photo with today's blog, taken two years ago on the porch outside my room at the Hotel Tonala, shows the ponytail pretty clearly that has become, apparently, my signature.
When I went to a meeting in San Francisco a month ago - a conference of CPAs, IRS staff members, and various other business types - I was the only dude sporting a ponytail.
Of course, when people found out I was a journalist, there to write stories, they all said Aha!, as if that explained why my decidedly gray locks were long enough to be tied in a band at the back of my head.
Long hair was controversial right after we got out of high school. I don't remember there being any arguments about it at SWCS. But by the time I left Jamestown and the Rust Belt behind me in 1970 to move west, I had been fired from one job for having hair that was too long and twice ended up in serious barroom shoving matches because I was a 'hippie.'
For the record, my hair in 1968-70 barely went over my ears and I don't think I even knew what a hippie really was.
I grew it much longer in 1970-72 while I was going to college, but when I was getting ready to start at my first newspaper job, I went straight to the barbershop and got a very traditional haircut - the kind you got at the Lakewood Barbershop in the 60s, where Louie Acquisto's dad was king, a guy named Frank chopped away at men's hair and there always seemed to be a third barber who spoke broken English.
That barbershop was not a place to ever tell a secret. Junior year, Greg Taft and I skipped one of those 'half-days' of school and decided to wander into the barbershop just as SWCS would have been letting out at noon. What devil possessed us to be so bold I have never figured out.
One of the barbers used the phone in the back room and called SWCS, which called my mother and Jaysus did we catch hell. Luckily, school was out in about a week and there wasn't enough time for us to be sentenced to very many late-afternoon detentions.
God! Detention. I'm not going there with this entry.
But about the hair.
In 1993, I took a summer-long cruise with my wife and two boys on our sailboat, barely touching land, mostly anchoring all around San Francisco Bay and the Sacramento River Delta. My hair grew out to a length that would have gotten me fired a second time from the Van Stee corporation and my kids - as a joke - pulled it back in a ponytail, even though it was a pretty pathetic 'tail.'
Two weeks later, still sans haircut, I sat in the front row of a speech given by the president of my university. When he saw my ponytail, he lost his place in his prepared talk and fumbled like a freshman taking Speech 101. I decided that if my having a ponytail could do that much to that old fart, well, I'd keep it for awhile and see what else happened.
A lot did, including being followed home by a Sacramento County sheriff's special unit car one night after dining at a local restaurant. I had on a white linen suit that apparently screams drug dealer, if you happen to have a ponytail, too.
I noticed that stop lights, big ugly guys with tattoos riding Harleys would give me the thumbs up and call out 'Hey man, how's it goin?'
And I discovered that my conservative students decided to judge me quite stereotypically - any professor with long hair is obviously a tree-hugging socialist, who reeks of patchouli oil, and has posters of Lenin in his office.
Their quite erroneous judgments have been far outweighed by the coeds in my classes who, in the annual vote I take each fall semester, vote overwhelmingly that I should keep my hair long.
Who can argue with the will of the people?
Saturday, July 16, 2005
Thursday, July 14, 2005
The Rod Serling, Class of '66 connection(s)
CAYUGA LAKE, New York - Not to dwell too long on Rod Serling, but...
After posting yesterday about Rod, I received two very interesting emails, one from Ward Romer, the other from Shelley Kales, both about Rod Serling.
Here's Ward's:
Your piece on Rod Serling was timely - the local Ithaca
Journal (aka Ithaca Urinal) recently printed an article about him as a 'regular Ithacan' (June 28 - you can buy it for $3 from their website -
right). Serling was born in Syracuse, grew up in Binghamton, and after
celebrity life in NYC and LA settled in Interlaken, just north and
between lakes Cayuga and Seneca. He taught communications courses and
gave lectures at Ithaca College from 1967 to 1975, and the school
maintains a Rod Serling archive including scripts and films of the
Twilight Zone episodes. His cabin cruiser (as the popular story went)
was berthed across the inlet from the Ithaca College Boathouse, named
'GHOTI'. I saw it every day when working with the crews, but never saw
Serling take it out. The name of the boat was pronounced 'fish' - the gh
as in enough, the o as in women, and the ti as in nation. Not bad for us
anglophiles, who can pronounce something like Featheringstonhaugh
'fanshaw'..... - Ward
================
When I return to New York in about a week, I'm going to head over the check out the Serling archives. The guy was a genius.
The second email, from Shelley Kales, is here:
================
This is so wild. I was born in Binghamton, and my grandfather owned a diner
there. Rod Serling would come into the diner and eat, and my mother knew
him well. If I remember correctly, Mom dated him while in high school as he
was only 4 years older. - Shelley
=============
What was that movie some years ago? Six Degrees of Separation? Whenever I travel it's rare that I don't bump into someone in the airport - or on the plane - who I know either from some journalism connection or through the university. And, of course, if I start talking to almost any person sitting next to me on the plane, after a few minutes, we usually have a person in common.
So weird, so Twilight Zone. I can hear the theme from the show playing in my head already.
But to get rid of it, here's a song from 1963 that you have been trying to forget ever since it was popular. And yes, it was a big hit. I'm not kidding.
----------------
After posting yesterday about Rod, I received two very interesting emails, one from Ward Romer, the other from Shelley Kales, both about Rod Serling.
Here's Ward's:
Your piece on Rod Serling was timely - the local Ithaca
Journal (aka Ithaca Urinal) recently printed an article about him as a 'regular Ithacan' (June 28 - you can buy it for $3 from their website -
right). Serling was born in Syracuse, grew up in Binghamton, and after
celebrity life in NYC and LA settled in Interlaken, just north and
between lakes Cayuga and Seneca. He taught communications courses and
gave lectures at Ithaca College from 1967 to 1975, and the school
maintains a Rod Serling archive including scripts and films of the
Twilight Zone episodes. His cabin cruiser (as the popular story went)
was berthed across the inlet from the Ithaca College Boathouse, named
'GHOTI'. I saw it every day when working with the crews, but never saw
Serling take it out. The name of the boat was pronounced 'fish' - the gh
as in enough, the o as in women, and the ti as in nation. Not bad for us
anglophiles, who can pronounce something like Featheringstonhaugh
'fanshaw'..... - Ward
================
When I return to New York in about a week, I'm going to head over the check out the Serling archives. The guy was a genius.
The second email, from Shelley Kales, is here:
================
This is so wild. I was born in Binghamton, and my grandfather owned a diner
there. Rod Serling would come into the diner and eat, and my mother knew
him well. If I remember correctly, Mom dated him while in high school as he
was only 4 years older. - Shelley
=============
What was that movie some years ago? Six Degrees of Separation? Whenever I travel it's rare that I don't bump into someone in the airport - or on the plane - who I know either from some journalism connection or through the university. And, of course, if I start talking to almost any person sitting next to me on the plane, after a few minutes, we usually have a person in common.
So weird, so Twilight Zone. I can hear the theme from the show playing in my head already.
But to get rid of it, here's a song from 1963 that you have been trying to forget ever since it was popular. And yes, it was a big hit. I'm not kidding.
----------------
On Top Of Spaghetti
Tom Glazer & The Childrens Chorus
Hi kids
(Hi Tom)
Let's sing a little bit
On top of spagetti (on top of spagetti)
All covered with cheese (all covered with cheese)
I lost my poor meatball (I lost my poor meatball)
When somebody sneezed (when somebody sneezed)
It rolled off the table (it rolled off the table)
And onto the floor (and onto the floor)
And then my poor meatball (and then my poor meatball)
Rolled out of the door (rolled out of the door)
It rolled in the garden (it rolled in the garden)
And under a bush (and under a bush)
And then my poor meatball (and then my poor meatball)
Was nothing but mush (was nothing but mush)
Alright now
I'll tell you the words
And you sing it back to me
On top of spagetti (on top of spagetti)
All covered with cheese (all covered with cheese)
I lost my poor meatball (I lost my poor meatball)
When somebody sneezed (when somebody sneezed)
It rolled off the table (it rolled off the table)
And onto the floor (and onto the floor)
And then my poor meatball (and then my poor meatball)
Rolled out of the door (rolled out of the door)
It rolled in the garden (it rolled in the garden)
And under a bush (and under a bush)
And then my poor meatball (and then my poor meatball)
Was nothing but mush (was nothing but mush)
Tom Glazer & The Childrens Chorus
Hi kids
(Hi Tom)
Let's sing a little bit
On top of spagetti (on top of spagetti)
All covered with cheese (all covered with cheese)
I lost my poor meatball (I lost my poor meatball)
When somebody sneezed (when somebody sneezed)
It rolled off the table (it rolled off the table)
And onto the floor (and onto the floor)
And then my poor meatball (and then my poor meatball)
Rolled out of the door (rolled out of the door)
It rolled in the garden (it rolled in the garden)
And under a bush (and under a bush)
And then my poor meatball (and then my poor meatball)
Was nothing but mush (was nothing but mush)
Alright now
I'll tell you the words
And you sing it back to me
On top of spagetti (on top of spagetti)
All covered with cheese (all covered with cheese)
I lost my poor meatball (I lost my poor meatball)
When somebody sneezed (when somebody sneezed)
It rolled off the table (it rolled off the table)
And onto the floor (and onto the floor)
And then my poor meatball (and then my poor meatball)
Rolled out of the door (rolled out of the door)
It rolled in the garden (it rolled in the garden)
And under a bush (and under a bush)
And then my poor meatball (and then my poor meatball)
Was nothing but mush (was nothing but mush)
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
From the Class of '66 to The Twilight Zone
SACRAMENTO, Calif. - Rod Serling, creator of The Twilight Zone, called Binghamton, New York his home town and legend has it drank in the bars not far from where I've been spending my summers.
He was quite short, but drank like a longshoreman and some people still remember him around the saloons bordering Cayuga Lake - or at least claim they do. Perhaps Ward Romer can do some research for me, he lives in the area.
So what twisted path led me to Rod Serling for this page?
Well, Pam Carr sent me one of those nostalgia links that is just fabulous. It's similar to some of the email lists/jokes that make their way around from time to time, but this has music, photos and lots of funny stuff to read. The music alone is worth logging on for.
And one of the photos flashing on a TV screen is the late Rod Serling himself.
Check out the link here:
Blast from the past
The Twilight Zone was one of my must-see TV shows in the 60s, right there with Star Trek and I Spy. In fact, that might encompass everything I watched. I think we only got three TV channels at my house, depending on how bad it was snowing. And is snowed a lot, I remember.
And on Saturday nights my grandmother (known to my friends as Shotgun, but that's a longer story) would insist on watching The Lawrence Welk Show, a sure way to drive all the teenagers out of the house, their hands covering their ears.
Today's song isn't exactly a Twilight Zone tune, but it's plenty weird. Rod would approve.
He was quite short, but drank like a longshoreman and some people still remember him around the saloons bordering Cayuga Lake - or at least claim they do. Perhaps Ward Romer can do some research for me, he lives in the area.
So what twisted path led me to Rod Serling for this page?
Well, Pam Carr sent me one of those nostalgia links that is just fabulous. It's similar to some of the email lists/jokes that make their way around from time to time, but this has music, photos and lots of funny stuff to read. The music alone is worth logging on for.
And one of the photos flashing on a TV screen is the late Rod Serling himself.
Check out the link here:
The Twilight Zone was one of my must-see TV shows in the 60s, right there with Star Trek and I Spy. In fact, that might encompass everything I watched. I think we only got three TV channels at my house, depending on how bad it was snowing. And is snowed a lot, I remember.
And on Saturday nights my grandmother (known to my friends as Shotgun, but that's a longer story) would insist on watching The Lawrence Welk Show, a sure way to drive all the teenagers out of the house, their hands covering their ears.
Today's song isn't exactly a Twilight Zone tune, but it's plenty weird. Rod would approve.
Love Potion Number Nine
The Searchers
(Written by Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller)
I took my troubles down to Madame Ruth
You know that gypsy with the gold-capped tooth
She's got a pad down on Thirty-Fourth and Vine
Sellin' little bottles of Love Potion Number Nine
I told her that I was a flop with chicks
I'd been this way since 1956
She looked at my palm and she made a magic sign
She said "What you need is Love Potion Number Nine"
She bent down and turned around and gave me a wink
She said "I'm gonna make it up right here in the sink"
It smelled like turpentine, it looked like India Ink*
I held my nose, I closed my eyes, I took a drink
I didn't know if it was day or night
I started kissin' everything in sight
But when I kissed a cop down on Thirty-Fourth and Vine
He broke my little bottle of Love Potion Number Nine
------ guitar solo ------
I held my nose, I closed my eyes, I took a drink
I didn't know if it was day or night
I started kissin' everything in sight
But when I kissed a cop down on Thirty-Fourth and Vine
He broke my little bottle of Love Potion Number Nine
Love Potion Number Nine
Love Potion Number Nine
Love Potion Number Nine
The Searchers
(Written by Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller)
I took my troubles down to Madame Ruth
You know that gypsy with the gold-capped tooth
She's got a pad down on Thirty-Fourth and Vine
Sellin' little bottles of Love Potion Number Nine
I told her that I was a flop with chicks
I'd been this way since 1956
She looked at my palm and she made a magic sign
She said "What you need is Love Potion Number Nine"
She bent down and turned around and gave me a wink
She said "I'm gonna make it up right here in the sink"
It smelled like turpentine, it looked like India Ink*
I held my nose, I closed my eyes, I took a drink
I didn't know if it was day or night
I started kissin' everything in sight
But when I kissed a cop down on Thirty-Fourth and Vine
He broke my little bottle of Love Potion Number Nine
------ guitar solo ------
I held my nose, I closed my eyes, I took a drink
I didn't know if it was day or night
I started kissin' everything in sight
But when I kissed a cop down on Thirty-Fourth and Vine
He broke my little bottle of Love Potion Number Nine
Love Potion Number Nine
Love Potion Number Nine
Love Potion Number Nine
Monday, July 11, 2005
When Regents exams ruled the world and ...
JAMESTOWN, New York - Surfing past the SWCS page I saw the schedule that was posted back nearly a month ago, with the dreaded Regents exams prominently posted.
I remember feeling the same sense of dread when one of those exams was near that I get now when I find an envelope in the mail that says IRS.
Some of those tests, I did well on: history, English. Math & science, well, not so hot, though I remember slamming the physics Regents test. (If there wasn't a Regents exam in physics, please don't tell me. It's such a nice memory...)
In California, we have a big debate going about the high school exit exam which basically tests students at about an 8th grade level (that's 8th grade today, which believe me is not the 8th grade we went through with Mrs. Dennison for math).
The public, well, ok, a segment of the public, says if these kids don't pass the test - and get a diploma - they won't get a job in our booming California service economy. I mean, who the hell is going to wait on people at Starbuck's? You certainly need a high school certification for that.
I do remember that we had a two-tiered system: a Regents diploma and another diploma that didn't requiring passing all those damned exams. I was led to believe that without a Regent's diploma, that getting into college wasn't a possibility. (Ooooh! They lied!) Had I been even half alert, I would've realized that junior colleges and out-of-state universities didn't care as much as NY State schools about these all-important Regents.
I've supported the high school exit exam here in California, even written a few opinion pieces about it for newspapers (Opinions, moi?) but the kicker I always put in - that tends to really tick people off - is that I believe the students should be allowed to take the test in Spanish or English.
Hell, they can take it in both if think they can pass it.
I get quite a bit of hate mail when I bring it up.
Were there Regents exams in our foreign language classes?
If there were, add French to my short list of Regent's exam disasters. But mercifully enough, I just can't remember at all.
Mon dieu!
I remember feeling the same sense of dread when one of those exams was near that I get now when I find an envelope in the mail that says IRS.
Some of those tests, I did well on: history, English. Math & science, well, not so hot, though I remember slamming the physics Regents test. (If there wasn't a Regents exam in physics, please don't tell me. It's such a nice memory...)
In California, we have a big debate going about the high school exit exam which basically tests students at about an 8th grade level (that's 8th grade today, which believe me is not the 8th grade we went through with Mrs. Dennison for math).
The public, well, ok, a segment of the public, says if these kids don't pass the test - and get a diploma - they won't get a job in our booming California service economy. I mean, who the hell is going to wait on people at Starbuck's? You certainly need a high school certification for that.
I do remember that we had a two-tiered system: a Regents diploma and another diploma that didn't requiring passing all those damned exams. I was led to believe that without a Regent's diploma, that getting into college wasn't a possibility. (Ooooh! They lied!) Had I been even half alert, I would've realized that junior colleges and out-of-state universities didn't care as much as NY State schools about these all-important Regents.
I've supported the high school exit exam here in California, even written a few opinion pieces about it for newspapers (Opinions, moi?) but the kicker I always put in - that tends to really tick people off - is that I believe the students should be allowed to take the test in Spanish or English.
Hell, they can take it in both if think they can pass it.
I get quite a bit of hate mail when I bring it up.
Were there Regents exams in our foreign language classes?
If there were, add French to my short list of Regent's exam disasters. But mercifully enough, I just can't remember at all.
Mon dieu!
Sunday, July 10, 2005
Those injuries we faced - and face again
SACRAMENTO, Calif. - My knees have never been quite the same since Track Coach Joe Rushin made us run around every spring on those hard concrete floors at SWCS while we waited for the snow to melt off the track.
Added to that annual knee trauma was two years of football hits and four years of twisting on the wrestling mats.
Still, I was in my 30s before I started having trouble and learned from my various docs that running on concrete, getting mashed in football game pileups and having someone twist your leg like a pretzel can have longterm ramifications.
No duh, right?
So since then, I've pretty much ignored the kind of aches and pains that come from my knees, adjusting to the fact that I can't move to my left when I play tennis and running on hard surfaces is out completely.
But these old injuries crop up at weird times, which is why I'm shopping online for a hi-tech knee brace. The one with today's blog looks pretty cool. It might even work.
Dancing at a party last week, doing the Twist and God-knows-what-other dances, I was inspired to twist all the way down to the floor, and, perhaps because of the copious volume of Merlot consumed, to stand back up - repeatedly. If my knees hurt at the time, I don't really know. But in the days after, I doubt I could have beaten Chester from Gunsmoke in a footrace and this morning, after being cramped on three planes in a cross-country journey, I'm stalking around the condo like Ahab looking for the white whale.
But I'm already planning my rehab so I can reinjure myself, er, I mean be safe, next year at the reunion, when we can all dance like crazy and then compare what's left of our knees, elbows and shins.
Today's song is not from the 1960s. But I think is sums up how I feel today anyway.
==============
Added to that annual knee trauma was two years of football hits and four years of twisting on the wrestling mats.
Still, I was in my 30s before I started having trouble and learned from my various docs that running on concrete, getting mashed in football game pileups and having someone twist your leg like a pretzel can have longterm ramifications.
No duh, right?
So since then, I've pretty much ignored the kind of aches and pains that come from my knees, adjusting to the fact that I can't move to my left when I play tennis and running on hard surfaces is out completely.
But these old injuries crop up at weird times, which is why I'm shopping online for a hi-tech knee brace. The one with today's blog looks pretty cool. It might even work.
Dancing at a party last week, doing the Twist and God-knows-what-other dances, I was inspired to twist all the way down to the floor, and, perhaps because of the copious volume of Merlot consumed, to stand back up - repeatedly. If my knees hurt at the time, I don't really know. But in the days after, I doubt I could have beaten Chester from Gunsmoke in a footrace and this morning, after being cramped on three planes in a cross-country journey, I'm stalking around the condo like Ahab looking for the white whale.
But I'm already planning my rehab so I can reinjure myself, er, I mean be safe, next year at the reunion, when we can all dance like crazy and then compare what's left of our knees, elbows and shins.
Today's song is not from the 1960s. But I think is sums up how I feel today anyway.
==============
"As Good As I Once Was"
By Toby Keith
She said, "I'e seen you in here before."
I said, "I've been here a time or two."
She said, "Hello, my
Name is Bobby Jo
Meet my twin sister Betty Lou
And we're both feeling kinda wild tonight
And you're the only cowboy in this place
And if you're up for a rodeo
We'll put a big Texas smile on
Your face"
I said, "Girls,"
[Chorus]
I ain't as good as I once was
I got a few years on me now
But there was a time back in my prime
When I could really lay it down
And if you need some love tonight
Then I might have just enough
I ain't as good as I once was
But I'm as good once as I ever was
I still hang out with my best friend dave
Ive known him since we were kids at school
Last night he
Had a few shots
Got in a tight spot hustlin' a game of pool
With a couple of readneck boys
One great
Big bad biker man
I heard David yell across the room
"Hey buddy, how 'bout a helping hand."
I said, "Dave,"
[Chorus]
I ain't as good as I once was
My how the years have flown
But there was a time back in my prime
When I could really hold my own
But if you wanna fight tonight
Guess thouse boys dont look all that
Tough
I ain't as good as I once was
But I'm as good once as I ever was
I used to be hell on wheels
Back when I was younger man
Now my body says, "You can't do this boy"
But my pride says, "Oh, yes you can
I ain't as good as I once was
Thats just the cold hard truth
I still throw a few back, talk a little smack
When I'm feelin bullet proof
So don't double dog dare me now
'Cause I'd have to call your bluff
I ain't as good as I once was
But I'm as good once as I ever was
Maybe not be good as I once was
But I'm as good once as I ever was
By Toby Keith
She said, "I'e seen you in here before."
I said, "I've been here a time or two."
She said, "Hello, my
Name is Bobby Jo
Meet my twin sister Betty Lou
And we're both feeling kinda wild tonight
And you're the only cowboy in this place
And if you're up for a rodeo
We'll put a big Texas smile on
Your face"
I said, "Girls,"
[Chorus]
I ain't as good as I once was
I got a few years on me now
But there was a time back in my prime
When I could really lay it down
And if you need some love tonight
Then I might have just enough
I ain't as good as I once was
But I'm as good once as I ever was
I still hang out with my best friend dave
Ive known him since we were kids at school
Last night he
Had a few shots
Got in a tight spot hustlin' a game of pool
With a couple of readneck boys
One great
Big bad biker man
I heard David yell across the room
"Hey buddy, how 'bout a helping hand."
I said, "Dave,"
[Chorus]
I ain't as good as I once was
My how the years have flown
But there was a time back in my prime
When I could really hold my own
But if you wanna fight tonight
Guess thouse boys dont look all that
Tough
I ain't as good as I once was
But I'm as good once as I ever was
I used to be hell on wheels
Back when I was younger man
Now my body says, "You can't do this boy"
But my pride says, "Oh, yes you can
I ain't as good as I once was
Thats just the cold hard truth
I still throw a few back, talk a little smack
When I'm feelin bullet proof
So don't double dog dare me now
'Cause I'd have to call your bluff
I ain't as good as I once was
But I'm as good once as I ever was
Maybe not be good as I once was
But I'm as good once as I ever was
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