tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89919121748420270112024-03-13T07:38:21.616-07:00Jim Collins' Editor's NotebookJim Collins is editor emeritus of The News-Herald and also serves as executive in residence at Lakeland Community College. His popular weekly column appears each Sunday in Comment in The News-Herald.News-Herald Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10992850793901999785noreply@blogger.comBlogger238125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991912174842027011.post-67470120273151331162016-02-02T11:17:00.002-08:002016-02-02T11:17:56.284-08:00Nicknames that have stood the test of timeI stepped out of the shower the other morning and a name popped into my head.
I have no idea why that happened. But things often pop into my head when I step out of the shower. There is no explanation for this phenomenon. It just happens.
The name that popped into my head was Edgar “Special Delivery” Jones. It is entirely possible you have never heard of Edgar “Special Delivery” Jones.
Be advised that he was an outstanding football player for the Cleveland Browns back in the days when they had a football team — a real football team.
They also had real nicknames in those days. Names like “Gluefingers” Lavelli. His real name was Dante, but everyone called him Gluefingers. Everyone except Otto Graham. Otto called him “Spumoni.”
The Browns also had a tackle named Leonard “Meatball” Simonetti.
With a name like that he didn’t last long in the league.
Indians players also had great names.
They had guys like Odell Sammy Hale, also known as “Bad News” Hale.
Bob Feller had a lot of nicknames, like “Rapid Robert” and “Baffling Bob.” But I always liked Julius “Moose” Solters and Roy “Stormy” Weatherly, also known as “Little Thunder” Weatherly.
The shortstop was “Broadway” Lyn Lary.
The names weren’t limited to Cleveland. Arkansas had a running back by the name of Clyde “Smackover” Scott. USC, or was it Southern Cal, had Sam “Wham Bam” Cunningham.
Back to the Browns for a moment, they had a lineman by the name of Dick “Bam Bam” Ambrose. He got the name because he once busted another guy’s shoulder pads.
Bam Bam is now a Common Pleas Court judge in Cuyahoga County.
Of all the legendary nicknames in Cleveland history, the greatest was Lou “The Toe” Groza. His name was emblazoned on his license plates.
George “Twinkletoes” Selkirk played for the Yankees. So did Charlie “King Kong” Keller.
The Tigers had a pitcher by the name of Cletus “Boots” Poffenberger. He was one of my favorites.
The reason why Enos Slaughter was called “Country” was probably self-evident.
But some ballplayers were named after their town of origin. Thus we had a pitcher known by the name of “Vinegar Bend.”
Who can forget “Joltin” Joe DiMaggio, also known as The Yankee Clipper. Did you know he had a brother who played for the Red Sox by the name of Dominic “The Little Professor” DiMaggio?
They had a brother Vince who played for the Pirates but I don’t recall if he had a nickname.
Wasn’t Jim Tobin who pitched for the Boston Braves known as “The Milkman?”
Cardinals outfielder Joe Medwick had a lot of nicknames. He was known as “Ducky,” “Muscles” and other names that fit his personality.
Changing gears
I have a bit of a confession to make at this point.
I am typing this column from my rehab room at Breckenridge Village in Willloughby and I have no idea how long it is.
The column, that is. I know how long the room is.
I am using my laptop computer which the lady of the house brought to me from home, and while, with some prompting, I figured out how to type in extra-large print and managed to find spell check by using the right-hand clicker. I have no clue which buttons to push to give me a word count.
So I did the next best thing. I emailed the column to Theresa Neuhoff at The News-Herald and asked her to give it a word count.
She told me it was 477. That is much too short. So I am attempting to “beef it up,” as we used to say in the newspaper business, to get it up to my usual 700 or 800 words.
You probably never would have guessed that was my usual word count.
Well, neither would I, until the word count started to become important in my little world.
I’ll tell you, I think computers were designed to drive me nuts.
Typing a column in a rehab room is not easy. There are too many interruptions. People are constantly coming in to stick needles in you, wrap things around you to take your blood pressure, give you pills or drag you off to do exercises.
I think when I get a little better at wiggling my toes they will send me home.
By the time this column finds its way into print, the Super Bowl will probably be on. Unless Theresa puts it on the Internet first.
That’s another thing — putting my column on the Internet before I am ready to have people read it.
That is one more thing I have no control over.
I wish people would still read newspapers by holding them in their hands and eating a sandwich while they are reading.
If you eat while you are using a computer you are taking too many chances of causing a short circuit.
There can be short circuits in computers. There are no short circuits in newspapers.News-Herald Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10992850793901999785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991912174842027011.post-60905375845509612092016-01-21T13:53:00.001-08:002016-01-21T13:53:38.377-08:00Rediscovering the roots of the West End YMCA in WilloughbyBy Jim Collins
I opened my News-Herald the other morning and the headline that greeted me was semi-stunning.
It said the Lake County YMCA is 150 years old.
And I wiped my incredulous eyes and said, “Wow! I find that hard to believe.”
And just why would I say that?
Because it seems like just a couple of days ago that Neil Brown and a couple of others were sitting around a table at Lutz’s Tavern in Painesville trying to come up with some brilliant ideas to commemorate the 100th birthday of the YMCA.
“How’s this for a great slogan?” I said. “One hundred years old and going like sixty.”
The response was underwhelming.
Obviously, that was more than a couple of years ago.
My mind began reeling backwards, to the time when I got involved in the Y.
It could have been around 1960. A few of my good friends (Bud Brichford, Bob Hardgrove, John Schalois) had urged me to become active in the Y by becoming a member of the board of the West End Y in Willoughby.
And so I agreed.
It was shortly afterward that I was elected chairman of the board. (There must have been a vacuum in the leadership chain.)
I said that role would please me enormously. But I was not going to be chairman of a YMCA that met in an armory.
We met in the Willoughby Armory on Grove Avenue at the time.
“We are going to have our own building,” I said emphatically, “or you can find someone else to be chairman.”
To make a lot of stories much shorter, we decided to test the water to see if the community would support its own YMCA.
We liked the responses we received, so we plunged ahead. We hired a company that raised money mainly for YMCAs, and went to work.
We enlisted the aid of hundreds of volunteers, had a boatload of meetings, many of the in the gym at South High, and went about trying to raise a million dollars.
And we tried hard, for about a year. But we fell well short of our mark.
I think we got pledged $648,000. It was not what we had hoped to raise. So a few of the board members said, let’s put it in the bank, let the money earn some interest, and someday we’ll have another campaign and then we can build the Y.
Not on your bipee, some of the rest (Bud, Bob, John and others) joined me in saying. People didn’t give us all that money just to put in the bank.
Let’s build what we can, we said, open a small West End YMCA the people can be proud of, and then go on and add to it later.
So we hired architects, went ahead with drawings, and about a year later built a building.
I was chairman of the West End board during the fund-raising and architectural phases. Bill McLaughlin, who was president of the Willoughby-Eastlake School Board, took over as chairman during the construction phase.
Congressman Bill Stanton turned the first shovel of dirt at the groundbreaking.
We built a handsome building that was actually a swimming pool plus an office. We promised to build the rest later.
We held a dedication ceremony, filled the empty pool with wooden folding chairs to seat the audience, and had a priest from St. Justin Martyr Church in Eastlake give the benediction.
The West End YMCA was officially off and running!
One board member quit because, he said, the Y was nothing but a swimming pool.
Everyone else was happy. We had the YMCA we wanted so desperately, and the best was yet to come.
There have been many additions to the building over the years. It is a thing of beauty.
I just thought I’d put in my two cents worth as the Lake County YMCA celebrated being 150 years old the other day.
News-Herald Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10992850793901999785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991912174842027011.post-64262798582139629432016-01-12T09:34:00.003-08:002016-01-12T09:34:47.234-08:00Willoughby Rotary Club set to honor Blue CoatsBy Jim Collins
Last week I brought to your attention the many reasons why Eric Barbe was chosen to receive this year’s Willoughby Area Distinguished Citizen Award.
In this column, I will offer some comments about the other award presented each year at this time by the Willoughy Rotary Club — the Distinguished Civic Organization Award.
The 2016 honoree is Lake County Blue Coats Inc., which coincidentally is celebrating its 50th Anniversary this year.
Now, when you mention Blue Coats to most people, the reaction is an overwhelmingly positive one. And oh yes, they say, that is the organization that honors the Blue Coat of the year in February.
That is true, but that is but a small part of what the organization does and stands for.
First, the annual award, or awards, is now known as the Jorge Medina Distinguished Service Award in honor of the late thoracic surgeon who founded the local Blue Coats chapter on July 15, 1966.
The founding group was mainly doctors, professional people and other interested citizens who wanted to establish an organization that would support our local safety forces — policemen and women and firefighters.
The annual awards for valor — more than 100 of them have been given over the years — honor men and women who have risked their lives in the pursuit of their duties.
The criteria is always, have they gone above and beyond the call of duty in their life-risking endeavors.
And there have been plenty of heated debates at Blue Coats trustees meetings in the recreation room of the president, Dr. Ronald J. Taddeo, as to whether the acts of valor have indeed been “above and beyond,” or were the nominees simply doing what they get paid to do.
By the way, there have been two heroic Medina Award winners who have been honored twice — Lake County Sheriff Dan Dunlap and Willoughby Fire Chief Al Zwegat.
But Blue Coats does much more than hand out awards. It also provides substantial cash stipends to widows and orphans of safety personnel who have lost their lives in the line of duty.
Those cash payments, of course, always come at a time when they are needed most. Thankfully, they have been few in number.
And Blue Coats also has a generous scholarship program for children of members of our local safety forces.
The scholarship program began in 1981, four are awarded each year, and they are now valued at $2,000 each.
Dr. Medina, the founding president of Blue Coats, served in the office for many years. There was one other president, as I recall, who served for one year, and then Dr. Taddeo took the reins.
He has been as fine a leader as any such organization could ever desire. He does virtually all of the planning and organizing and leaves no detail unattended.
Right now he is busy planning the annual dinner meeting for Feb. 3 at LaMalfa Party Center in Mentor.
That meeting is open to the public, as is membership in Blue Coats. Taddeo can provide details at 440-946-4067.
The Rotary Club’s awards luncheon at 11:30 a.m. on Jan. 25 at Pine Ridge Country Club is coming up soon, and if you are planning to attend you should do so quickly.
Tickets are $20 per person and reservations can be made by calling Stephanie at Merhar’s Nationwide Insurance Agency in Willoughby, 440-946-2040.
There is still time — but hurry.
Here’s a little background on the selection process.
Until 2005 these two awards were presented by the Willoughby Chamber of Commerce. At that point, the chamber decided to concentrate solely on business awards, dropping the citizen and civic organization awards.
The Rotary Club stepped in and took over presentation of the two awards. From then on, I have been chairman of the awards selection committee.
I was not new at the job, however, since I had been chairman of the chamber’s awards committee since about 1971.
That year is only a guess, but as I look over the list of previous winners, I am pretty sure it is correct.
I was allowed to choose my own awards committee for the Rotary Club, so joining forces with me in making the choices are Chief Bill Crosier, Dale Fellows, Jerry Merhar, Bob Riggin, Sue Roseum, Rick Stenger and John Tigue Jr., who is actually a member of the Willoughby Lions but who adds a valuable dimension to the committee because of his vast knowledge of the nominees and their backgrounds.
He is also a former chamber Distinguished Citizen himself, as are several other members of the committee. So I am comfortable that the committee does an outstanding job of making selections, as evidenced by every one of the choices over the past 10 years.News-Herald Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10992850793901999785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991912174842027011.post-9834308167675658022016-01-08T09:38:00.002-08:002016-01-08T09:38:57.508-08:00Willoughby business owner Barbe is deserving award recipientThis is my favorite column of the year.
This is when I get to write about a subject near and dear to my heart.
We are talking about the 2016 Distinguished Citizen and Distinguished Service Awards for the Willoughby area, presented by the Willoughby Rotary Club.
The winners this year (a little drum roll here, please) are Eric Barbe and the Lake County Blue Coats, Inc.
Our committee of eight selected them overwhelmingly as being greatly deserving. The awards will be presented at a luncheon meeting Jan. 25, at Pine Ridge Country Club in Wickliffe.
Please note the location — Pine Ridge. Some faulty information was sent out online last week. My advice is, don’t believe everything you read online. But I digress.
The meeting is open to the public. Tickets are $20 each, same as in previous years, and we ask you to make your reservations in advance so we can get an accurate head count.
Members of the Rotary Club will be there en masse, but many people will want to attend who are not Rotarians, and we welcome them.
Those folks should call the Merhar Nationwide Insurance Agency at 440-946-2040 and ask for Stephanie. Reservations in advance are necessary to avoid a line at the door.
Please just have your check (or a $20 bill) in hand when you arrive.
If you are not already aware of it, the food at Pine Ridge is spectacular. Every meal served is gourmet quality. But please be there by 11:30 a.m. so we can dispense with the luncheon and get on with the program so you can leave by 1 p.m.
Eric Barbe runs the once family-owned business, Euclid Precision Grinding, in Willoughby. He bought out his parents many years ago. He is not only a smart and capable businessman, but he gives so much of his time to community activities that frankly I don’t know how he does it.
He is a past president of the Chamber of Commerce, has chaired many Valentine’s Day meetings for the Rotary Club (he is the only chairman I am aware of since the programs began) and serves on some key committee assignments for the Fine Arts Association.
His community service is no accident. What Eric does is done willingly and with enthusiasm. Anyone who gets up as early in the morning as he does for a Fine Arts committee meeting must enjoy the work.
He served on the development committee but has been moved up to a committee that will make even more use of his talents and abilities.
But he does most of his volunteer work for the city. He was appointed the three-member Civil Service Commission several years when Bob Riggin moved to Willoughby Hills and thus had to resign.
And he has served as chairman since Dan Hart permanently moved to Florida.
So if you wonder why Willoughby has such outstanding safety forces, you can thank Eric and his two fellow Civil Service members. They hire them — or at least, they recommend them to Mayor Dave Anderson.
Before he was Civil Service chairman, he served six years on the Board of Zoning Appeals.
Eric formerly served as president of the Heart of Willoughby and is on the business advisory committee for the Willoughby-Eastlake Schools.
He has served for 12 years on the Lake County Work Force Investment Board, serving as past president and executive committee member.
You can see how he just naturally gravitates to these boards and organizations that perform such vital public services.
As a digression, I would like to tell you two things about Eric’s father-in-law, John Pogacnik. I have known John for a long time.
No. 1, he hits a tennis ball harder than any player I have played against. No. 2, if I am ever in an alley fight, I want him on my side.
I seriously doubt if he ever indulges in such foolish endeavors, but you get my point. If you ever knew him or saw him, you would know what I mean.
Next week I will tell you the second half of the story, about the Lake County Bluecoats and the Distinguished Civic Organization award.
Stay tuned — it is an equally compelling topic, as well as an award richly deserved.News-Herald Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10992850793901999785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991912174842027011.post-9554092780460269062015-12-31T09:38:00.001-08:002015-12-31T09:38:45.451-08:00Heading into the new year one step at a timeI’ve been putting this off long enough.
I promised to tell you why this column was missing from the paper for two months — basically October and November — and I have decided to quit stalling.
So today I am going to tell you — sort of.
I am not going to tell you the whole story because much of it is too personal, too embarrassing to talk about and, in many ways, not interesting unless you are a graduate student in medical science and want to know all the lurid details about such things.
I will thus skip most of the details, while thanking you for remaining interested in my situation, calling me to find out what in the world was going on, and calling the paper to ask where I was. Things like that.
It all began with an early morning trip to Lake West Hospital by way of a service provided by the Willoughby Fire Department.
The first thing they did there was to introduce me to a Mr. Foley, who was to be my constant companion for the next two months.
If you do not know what I mean by “Mr. Foley,” be advised that it is a medical term, and if you are not familiar with it, don’t bother to look it up. It is extremely unpleasant.
I was in the hospital for a little over a week. They took very good care of me, and the food was excellent. I was allowed to order from an extensive menu, anything I wanted, so I had chocolate ice cream thee meals a day.
After I left the hospital they told me I needed re-hab, so I went to Breckenridge Village for almost two weeks.
Other than the constant presence of Mr. Foley, it was a marvelous experience.
David Schell runs a fine program. The staff members are outstanding. I asked everyone who took care of me where they got their training, and the vast majority of them said Lakeland Community College. That pleased me to no end.
I had three meals a day with a guy I really liked talking with. A widower, his name is Alvin Sabroff. He’s a retired engineer from Eaton Corp. He has a son who was a first-string running back for Mentor High for two years.
Al is a most interesting guy. I hope to meet him again someday (though not in re-hab, thank-you very much).
But my adventure was far from over. I was ordered to have a PET scan. That process is an ordeal in itself, unless you like being trapped in a tiny tube for a couple hours.
One of the things it revealed was a “hot spot” on the back of my left thigh. So I went back to Lake West for the surgery.
The hot spot was removed. Guess what? It was benign.
That was the good news. The bad news was that it was attached to a nerve in my left leg, so the procedure left me with little feeling from the knee down and a left foot that is floppy.
I trip over everything. Cracks in the sidewalk, rugs, anything that is slightly uneven — or even even. My stumbling is indiscriminate. If I were a football player running for a touchdown, I would trip over the 50-yard line.
I walk with a four-footed cane. Meanwhile, I am awaiting an ankle brace and some special shoes so my left toe will no longer dip when I walk.
The last time the lady of the house and I were at Hellriegel’s Inn for dinner, we saw dozens of people we know, many of them very good friends.
They all wondered where I had been. Of course, I didn’t have time to tell them the whole story, so I gave them an abbreviated version.
The staff insisted, over my protests, on wheeling me out to the car in a wheelchair when we left. So I let them. But I did it mainly to put an end to the bickering.
I have no trouble driving the car. Or even getting in and out of it. But walking is a chore. If I don’t remember to lift my left foot up in the air with every step, I trip.
I look goofy when I’m walking, but there is nothing I can do about it.
By the time this appears in print, I hope I have that ankle brace and my two new pairs of shoes — one brown and one black.
I hope to see you around someplace. If we meet, you will know if I got that brace yet by the way I’m walking.News-Herald Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10992850793901999785noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991912174842027011.post-79339540151797105972015-12-22T10:46:00.003-08:002015-12-22T10:46:37.989-08:00Don't be surprised if your Social Security check is smaller in 2016When we’re growing up, we hear a lot of expressions, or figures of speech, and we don’t know exactly what they mean.
For example, we hear the terms Senior Citizens. Or Golden Agers, and we wonder — or at least I did — what they mean.
Perhaps they are more like euphemisms than they are figures of speech.
But I always took them to mean that you reach a point where you have worked hard for oh-so-many years and now it’s time to relax and enjoy some of the things you may have missed.
When I refer to all of those working years, I should point out that the number in my case is 65. And counting. I am not done yet.
In that time span I am counting two years in the U.S. Army, which are counted as “good time” by those who oversee such things.
“Good time” means getting an honorable discharge, as opposed to a dishonorable discharge or a discharge at the convenience of the government.
I can assure you mine was honorable, meaning those 65 years — and counting — are a true measure of the kind of life I have attempted to live for all those years.
I am only guessing that I am a Senior Citizen or a Golden Ager, since I don’t know if I am old enough to qualify for those titles of distinction. I do know, though, that when I was born Calvin Coolidge was president, so maybe I am either Senior or Golden.
I should point out, in the interest of full disclosure, that Coolidge was only president for the first four months of my life. Herbert Hoover had already won an election shortly before my arrival on a quiet residential street (Waldamere Avenue) in Willoughby, Ohio.
My first Christmas came soon after I made my first appearance in Willoughby, but please don’t ask me to recall how we celebrated the holiday that year. My sister remembers stuff like that, but I don’t. She remembers a lot more trivia than I do.
But I digress.
I am wondering, as 2015 draws to a close, if a lot of Senior/Golden citizens are in for a shock early in 2016.
I refer to the arrival of their first Social Security checks, or bank deposits, in the New Year.
Here is why I wonder. I keep records of things like that, and I know how much I got every month since I qualified for Social Security at the age of 70 and 1/2.
The amount went up every year — until next year. Next year, it will go down.
Here is why: They government did not allow any COLA, or cost of living, increase for next year.
So you say, OK, you won’t get any more in 2016, but at least you won’t be getting any less.
Wrong! Know why? It’s because the Medicare deductions will be going up, so if you receive the same amount of benefit as the year before and impact it with a greater medical deduction, then your bottom line — the amount of your check or your deposit — will be less.
In my own case, my monthly deposit will be $24.40 less in 2016 than it was in 2015. I know this because I did some research on the subject — something I am wont to do when money is involved.
I talked to a gentleman in the Painesville Social Security office and he didn’t even have to look up my records to tell me what the problem is. It is no COLA plus higher Medicare premiums.
I have always found the Social Security Administration to be a model of efficiency, especially with regard to anything having to do with the government.
So I am prepared to accept $24.40 a month less next year than this year.
My question for you is this — if you receive a Social Security check, have you looked into your situation to find out how much less you will be getting next year?
Do you care? I hope you do.
But if you do not know what to expect next year, and you are blindsided by your new payment, don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Some surprises in life can be nice. But not this kind.News-Herald Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10992850793901999785noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991912174842027011.post-61007786209670535872015-12-17T12:34:00.003-08:002015-12-17T12:34:49.344-08:00Finding joy in the simple treasures of life By Jim Collins
The moment that Dave the mailman dropped off the little square brown package, I knew I was in for a treat.
And as soon as I looked at the return address on the package that was exactly the size of a compact disc, I was certain that its contents would bring an extreme measure of joy.
Since we are in the Christmas season, the timing could not have been better.
The return sticker said Don Miller of Eastlake.
Perfect!
Since I now knew the package contained a CD, I was confident that it would be most welcome, since Don and I share a interest in the same kind of music.
What was even better was the very kind note enclosed with the CD.
Don always has something very nice to say when sends along a copy of something he wanted to share, and this time was no exception, especially because of my own particular set of circumstances over the past couple of months.
If you are a regular reader of this space, you are aware that I was “out of service” during October and November.
Some day I will fill you in on the details.
For now, I will just say that for anyone who is in need of a rehab session, there is no place in the world that could be better that Breckenridge Village in Willoughby.
As my good friend, Dave Schell, who runs the place, is quick to point out, “It is the best place you never want to be.”
But I digress.
The note in the package from Don Miller began: “What a pleasant surprise I was the recipient of Sunday.
“You’re back in the saddle again.” (This column had been missing for two months and the first one I wrote upon my return was about the passing of Rocco Scotti at age 95. Rocco gained international fame with his renditions of our National Anthem, and I pointed out that many purveyors of the song in recent years had butchered it.)
“Wonderful having you back writing your column,” Don said.
And he added: “A lot of the interpretations of the National Anthem I have heard lately have been awful.
“One of the best I ever heard was by The Lettermen at the old Cleveland Stadium. But that’s a story for another day.”
Then he described his enclosure. As always, it was something awesome.
“I have enclosed,” he said, “what I think is a unique and unusual record. It’s Urbie Green and 20 of the ‘world’s greatest.’ It’s called “Twenty-one Trombones.”
“Who would have ever thought anyone would record 20 trombones backing a solo trombone and that it wouldn’t be a mish-mash?
“But then a very remarkable thing happened. For the first time in their lives, these top-ranking trombonists were on a recording date. The trombone was the focus of all interest.”
Don went on to describe the quality of the recordings, the balance in relation to Urbie’s solo work, the sensitivity and the dynamics of the session.
Getting the 21 trombone players together for three recording sessions in New York City was quite an accomplishment in itself.
I read over the list of participants. Many of them were quite familiar, including Wayne Andre, Will Bradley, J.J. Johnson, Lou McGarrity, Buddy Morrow and Kai Winding.
Among the tunes are “Here’s that Rainy Day,” “The Look of Love,” “If He Walked into My Life” (what a great and tender song that is, from the Broadway show “Mame”), “Stardust,” “Watch What Happens,” “Stars Fell on Alabama” and several other great selections.
I couldn’t wait to slip the disc into my living room Bose player. I needed no introduction to Urbie Green.
I sat at a table with him many years ago when he played at the former Mentor Inn, which was a Ramada Inn then and was built by my best friend, Victor Hugo Bouse.
My favorite Urbie story was about the time he took four days off from the Woody Herman Orchestra because his wife was having a baby.
The band manager sent over to the union hall for a replacement, and the guy who showed up was Carl Fontana.
(He was without question the greatest jazz trombonist who ever lived, but at the time no one had heard of him.)
Someone asked who he was. He said he was there to take Urbie Green’s place.
“Yeah, he’s going to take Urbie’s place,” said a tenor saxophone with a great dose of sarcasm.”
“Yeah, right,” said another sideman, “he’s going to take Urbie’s place.”
Well, Carl played just enough to make everyone’s jaw drop, and that was the beginning of a legend.
Thanks, Don, for the great CD. And thanks for welcoming me back. I appreciate it.
Now, back to the record player, as we used to call them in the old days.
News-Herald Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10992850793901999785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991912174842027011.post-48860694150861919022015-12-10T12:59:00.000-08:002015-12-10T12:59:12.769-08:00Remembering favorite songs of the pastSometimes a tune gets lodged in my head and I can’t shake it.
I don’t mean I can’t shake my head. I can always do that. I mean I can’t shake the tune. It seems to be there for days — until it is replaced by another tune.
I am not particularly worried about this phenomenon. At least I don’t hear voices, which, I have been told, is an indication of some kind of instability.
I often read in the paper about anti-social types who hear voices. Relax. I am not anti-social. And I am not a terrorist, unless you consider mild outbursts of temper tantrums — extremely mild — as terrorism.
The songs I hear are mainly Broadway show tunes. And I enjoy them. The ones that I hear that are not show tunes are instrumentals, for example, “Well, Git It.” I can hear that tune from beginning to end because it is so deeply imbedded in my brain.
You might consider it a show tune because it was featured in the Red Skelton movie “DuBarry Was a Lady.” But it was a big hit long before the movie came out, so I am just wasting space talking about it.
But I digress.
The songs that rattle around in my brain are songs I have heard so many times on the original cast albums that I can hear note-by-note, which may be good or bad, depending on your outlook.
Or on your musical tastes, as the case may be.
“Bells Are Ringing” is one of my all-time favorite shows. I can wake up in the morning hearing “Just in Time.”
The star of the show, Judy Holliday, is one of the most talented, and cutest, people who ever lived.
And I can also hear her co-star, Sydney Chaplin, singing, “Independent, self-sufficient, got nobody to rely on. Every day is Independence Day, hooray!”
Which brings up a sore point with me. When the movie version of the Broadway show was made, they left that song out!
Not only that, in the movie they replaced Sydney Chaplin, a very talented singer and dancer, and son of the legendary Charlie Chaplin, with Dean Martin.
Look, I understand why they did that. Dean was a huge star, a box office icon, and Sydney was relatively unknown.
But thankfully I can still listen to the song on the original cast album.
If I concentrate I can hear virtually the entire album — in my brain, that is.
There are songs in the movie version of “Guys and Dolls” I can hear Marlon Brando singing when you would think they would have been assigned to Frank Sinatra.
I believe Frank thought the same thing. He often sang “Luck Be a Lady Tonight” and complained that Brando sang it in the movie because Marlon didn’t have a trained voice. But he sounded pretty good to me.
If you think the songs I have mentioned have a strong Broadway influence, you would be correct.
But let us not forget off-Broadway shows. I have seen some great ones over the years, the best of which were “Take Five,” “Pieces of Eight” and “Dressed to the Nines.”
These were at a very small cabaret called Upstairs at Downstairs. Or could it have been Downstairs at the Upstairs.
Or it could have been both — and probably was, over the years.
I have been enthralled with shows I have seen on Broadway, and the music they have produced, partly because of the magic involved in sitting in the audience, listening to the overture and watching the curtain go up on another great production.
The best show I ever saw was “My Fair Lady.” You know all the songs as well as I do. But it was a thrill watching Julie Andrews, Rex Harrison and the rest of the cast deliver them.
A few more all-time favorite shows, with tunes that stick in my head, are “Bells Are Ringing,” “Most Happy Fella,” the previously mentioned “Guys and Dolls,” “Goldilocks” and “Silk Stockings.”
Two other shows that must be mentioned: “New Faces of 1952” and “New Faces of 1956.”
Yes, I know. It was a long time ago. But some great talent made its first appearance on the Broadway stage in those shows, including Ronny Graham, Eartha Kitt, Carol Lawrence, Paul Lynde, Maggie Smith, Inga Swenson and so many others.
And many of the songs are absolutely unforgettable, for example “Guess Who I Saw Today” (one of the saddest songs ever written), “I’m in Love with Miss Logan,” “He Takes Me Off His Income Tax,” “April in Fairbanks,”Isn’t She Lovely,” The Greatest Invention in the Whole Wide World” (is a boy and a girl in love), and the hilarious take-off about Marilyn Monroe, a song called “Talent.”
Yes, I can hear every one of the songs in my head.
I could go on and on. But I have to stop someplace. It might as well be here.News-Herald Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10992850793901999785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991912174842027011.post-54377706312469263462015-12-03T11:45:00.000-08:002015-12-03T11:47:48.269-08:00A tribute to Rocco Scotti, not just a great singer, but a great AmericanI’m baaaaak.
One of these days I’ll get around to telling you where I’ve been (it was neither exciting nor fun) but right now let’s proceed with a story I was beginning to tell you before things went haywire. It goes like this:
There was only one Rocco Scotti.
If you have lived anywhere near a Cleveland Indians baseball game in the last half-century, you certainly knew who he was.
And if you were in the vicinity of a ball game, you probably heard him singing the National Anthem.
Yes, he sang “The Star Spangled Banner” that loud.
And he sang it with respect. No fancy flights of awkward notes that we hear from so many would-be singers at football games — people who have no respect for either the words or the music.
If you can’t sing the proper lyrics and somehow merge them in with the notes as Francis Scott Key intended them to be sung, why even sing it at all?
Why not just sing “God Bless America.” Or “My Country Tis of Thee” (I don’t think that is the right name, but you know what I mean.)
The National Anthem gets a lot of “interpretation” at sporting events, but the purveyors are not doing it a favor. They should learn the words and the notes or leave it alone.
Rocco, who died recently at the age of 95, and I were hardly bosom buddies, but we knew each other well enough so that I could impose on his friendship a few times to sing the anthem at the annual Pearl Harbor Day remembrance at Hellriegel’s Inn in Painesville Township.
Of course, he made a big hit with the veterans, who are patriotic to a man — and to a woman, too, for that matter.
In those days it was my wont to take my camera with me everywhere I went.
Do they still make 35 millimeter film? I don’t know, but for years I took bunches of pictures — before The Digital Revolution — and I still have most of them around someplace.
Don’t ask me where, but they are not lost, they are just misplaced.
Some of the ones I treasure are from Pearl Harbor Day at Hellriegel’s.
Front and center in many of them are Rocco Scotti, former Browns Coach Sam Rutigliano, the late and great Harry Waterman of Mentor, and others I managed to round up for appearances before my lens.
One of my encounters with Rocco was a bit weird. That is not the right word, but it will do.
I was flying home from the Ft. Myers airport in Florida after a February golf trip. This was a long time ago. The flight was late at night.
Rocco was seated in the row in front of me. Seated alongside him were two nuns. I do not know if he knew them or not, but he soon got to know them.
Here’s why. Minutes after we took off, the pilot got on the intercom. He told us we were going to return to the airport.
He didn’t say exactly why, but we (all of us on the plane) became concerned, because we felt it was unusual to land moments after we took off.
As we approached the airport, every light in the area was on. Everything on the ground was lit up. The landing strip had so many lights on that it looked like New Year’s Eve.
There also appeared to be a lot of fire trucks along the strip with their red lights flashing.
Rocco turned to the two nuns. “Ladies,” he admonished them, “start praying.”
I guess he figured that if we didn’t know what was happening, we could use all the help we could. I think he asked them especially to pray for the pilot to land us safely.
Well, the rest was uneventful. Apparently some danger signals went on that alerted the pilot that there may be trouble, but there was none. It was a false alarm.
We landed safely, we transferred to another plane, and got back to Cleveland a little later than we had planned.
As we exited the plane in Ohio, I thanked Rocco for intervening, thanked the two nuns for their prayers, and we all were grateful for being back on terra firma, or terra cotta, or whatever we were on.
Rocco had a good, long life. At 95, he probably sang the National Anthem more times than anyone in history.
May he rest in peace, knowing that he was a highly respected American — as well as a great singer.News-Herald Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10992850793901999785noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991912174842027011.post-60619476086180046602015-10-02T11:02:00.001-07:002015-10-02T11:02:22.220-07:00Executive Director of Lake County Visitors Bureau is a man on a missionBob Ulas is a man on a mission.<br />
I would have said he is a man possessed, but that conjures up too many visions that might be considered negative, and there is nothing negative about Bob. So let’s just leave it on the “mission” theme.<br />
He is the executive director of the Lake County Visitors Bureau, and his mission (obsession?) is to have the county get as much mention as possible — anything that will draw attention to Lake County and inspire others to visit here.<br />
And if those visitors wish to buy a meal here, stay overnight or in any other way spend a couple of bucks here, in short, to promote Lake County in any way possible, so much the better.<br />
He’s been doing that for the last 24 years, and a measure of his success is the annual increase in visitors who come here for whatever reason appeals to them.<br />
The reason might be to visit the home of President James A. Garfield in Mentor, tour any of the dozens of wineries in the area, stop in at the historic Kirtland Temple and learn a little bit about the Mormons and their beliefs and traditions, or anything that appeals to them.<br />
There are, indeed, many things for a visitor to do in Lake County, and Bob’s job is to bring those things to the attention of anyone willing to listen.<br />
He is a major player in the effort to bring outsiders to the Cleveland area next year for the Republican National Convention because — guess what? — there will be many thousands of visitors coming in for the convention, which is a really big deal, and a good many of them will be spilling over into Lake County.<br />
It is not the politics of the deal that appeals to Bob. In fact, I don’t have any idea what his personal political views are. The only thing that appeals to him is that the huge event will draw a lot of people here, and he will move heaven and earth to get as many of them as possible to spend some time in Lake County.<br />
If he had enough pull, I am sure he would have wished the Pope would have stopped here during his recent visit. That, of course, would be asking far too much. But it is the sort of thing that crosses his mind.<br />
I think he plans a lot of “what if” mental games in his spare time — if he has any. You know, as in “What if the Pope stopped here?” or “What if the Browns came back to train at Lakeland?” or “What if the Cleveland Orchestra came here to play?”<br />
Well, here’s another “guess what.” Serious efforts are underway to make that orchestra event happen — and sooner than you may think.<br />
But that project is still in the planning stages. There is something more immediate on Bob’s mind. It is the annual meeting luncheon of the Lake County Visitors bureau on Oct. 28 at Pine Ridge Country Club in Wickliffe.<br />
The reason for his excitement? The guest speaker will be Mike Cardamone, co-host of WKYC’s (Ch.3) “Live on Lakeside.” That connection, of course, means a lot of plugs on television, which is a situation Bob aspires to have happen.<br />
Mike is a Lake County resident, and he was responsible for a great deal of publicity in this year’s YMCA Dream House campaign.<br />
Channel 3 helped support and sponsor the 2015 Dream House project, and it was a huge success, which warmed the cockles of Bob’s heart.<br />
“We heard a lot about Lake County on Channel 3 during the Dream House event,” Bob noted, “and it wasn’t about being in the Snow Belt. It was all positive stuff.”<br />
He added, with a glow, “It was the first time in 24 years I have seen so much positive coverage of Lake County on<br />
TV. I was really thrilled to see it.”<br />
The combination of the Lake County YMCA, the Visitors Bureau and the opportunity for favorable mention on a major TV channel is a trifecta Bob finds irresistible.<br />
I share his enthusiasm. I can’t wait to hear what Mike Cardamone is going to say at Pine Ridge.<br />
You should want to hear his message, too. But wait! You can’t go there without a ticket.<br />
They are $25 each and lunch will be served family style at 11:30 a.m. Reservations must be made by Oct. 21, you can call 440-975-1234, and one more thing: If you know anything at all about Pine Ridge, you know that the food service is by Dino’s Restaurant. That’s all I need to know on that subject. If there is any better food in Lake County, I haven’t found it. And I have been looking two or three times a week for decades.<br />
Oh, I almost forgot to tell you this — a personal note on Bob Ulas: He has four sons, ages 33, 30, 30 and 30. How can this happen? Well, the last three are triplets.<br />
I don’t know about you, but the only other family I know with triplets is Don Shula’s. The legendary football coach has siblings who are triplets. And that’s the local trivia lesson for today.<br />
News-Herald Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10992850793901999785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991912174842027011.post-20827928274391020092015-09-22T09:28:00.001-07:002015-09-22T09:28:54.875-07:00Recent Adele Knight award winners make an impactPicking up where we left off last week, I would like to offer some background on this year’s winners of the Adele Knight Excellence in Teaching Awards.<br />
To me, this award embodies great and significant meaning, because each year the top teacher at North High in Eastlake as well as the top teacher at South High in Willoughby is selected by his or her peers to receive the prestigious award.<br />
Along with it goes a plaque for display in the respective schools and a stipend of $500.<br />
The program has been in existence since 2000. Last week, I listed all the previous winners but didn’t have the space to adequately list the accomplishments of this year’s winners of the award, named in honor of a beloved Latin teacher for many years at the former Willoughby Union High School. She taught in the district for a few years after that school was closed in 1958.<br />
Long after her passing, she remains a beloved figure and icon in the school district and an inspiration to every teacher who loves the classrooms and the students they encounter every day.<br />
The Adele Knight recipient this year at South High was Erin Dodson, who is a 1996 graduate of South.<br />
She has been teaching at South in the social studies department for 11 years and has taught American History, Civics, Sociology and Advanced Placement Psychology.<br />
Her colleagues call her an amazing educator who serves as an inspiration for her colleagues.<br />
“Perhaps most notable,” says South Principal Patrick Ward, “is her ability to reach all of her students and push them to excel both in the classroom and outside the school.<br />
“Ms. Dodson goes out of her way,” he continued, “to assure all of her students are always engaged. She sets high expectations and knows how to reach all her students.<br />
“When you speak to her students, they describe her as intense with a soft side. There is no doubt that she has left a lasting impact on all her students.”<br />
In addition, she is seen as a teacher-leader within the school community. Her relentless optimism, it is said, coupled with her passion for working with her students, is infectious.<br />
During the 2014-2015 school year she led the entire school in an effort to raise more than $7,000 for United Way.<br />
“Ms. Dodson,” Ward added, “is a master educator who captures the essence of what the Adele Knight Award is all about.”<br />
The award recipient this year at North High, Kevin Boyd, attended Bowling Green State University and earned his bachelor’s degree in Science. He secured a license in comprehensive science while majoring in Biology, graduating in 1998.<br />
He has been teaching at North High for 16 years, also coaching football for five years and baseball for four years.<br />
He is currently National Honor Society advisor at North, Science Department chairman and AP Biology teacher.<br />
While at North he completed his master’s degree at Cleveland State University and is working on his administrative license through Ashland University.<br />
North Principal Jennifer Chauby has known Boyd since he began teaching there in 2000, and said, “Kevin strives to bring real-life experiences into his classroom.”<br />
She added that “he exposes his students to scientific information while relating it to events that have shaped our scientific understanding.<br />
“He also engages his students in meaningful dialog that will shape their future and he genuinely cares about the academic progress of his students.”<br />
He has a commanding understanding of the subject matter, Chauby added, and has an innate ability to convey that knowledge to his students.<br />
“It is an honor to work with such a fine educator,” she said.<br />
A teaching colleague of Boyd’s, math teacher Matthew Blair, graduated from North with Boyd, and said he could not think of a more deserving recipient of the Adele Knight Award.<br />
“Kevin is a master teacher who inspires his students and colleagues through his example,” he said. “He teaches very challenging classes and finds a way to push his students to work harder than they ever thought they could.<br />
“His talent and work ethic are an inspiration. I am proud to have him as a colleague and a friend.”<br />
And there you have it, my friends. This year’s winners of the Adele Knight Award. I am glad you gave me an opportunity to introduce them to you.<br />
The committee meets only once a year, at North High for a luncheon hosted by Jen Chauby. Around the table this year in addition to our hostess were Dodson, Boyd, previous winners Robert Prince (2000) and Charles Koelling (2001), South Principal Patrick Ward, Assistant Superintendent Charles Murphy, and two committee members, Jack Platz and me.<br />
Jack, a long-time Lake County commissioner who taught with Miss Knight before a lengthy career as a professor at Lakeland Community College, is a new addition to the committee.<br />
As in all of his other endeavors, his input was valuable. He is a welcome addition to the group.News-Herald Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10992850793901999785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991912174842027011.post-9815935916954391992015-09-14T09:28:00.001-07:002015-09-14T09:28:42.029-07:00Jim Collins: North, South teachers presented with Adele Knight awardOne of my great pleasures in life is my involvement with the Adele Knight awards.<br />
I have told you about these prestigious awards on several previous occasions but the story is worth repeating.<br />
And besides, we have two new winners to announce, so they will take center stage in this year’s tale.<br />
The 2015 winners are Kevin Boyd of North High in Eastlake, where he holds several positions of importance, including being an AP biology teacher for 11 years, and Erin Dodson of South High in Willoughby, where she has taught in the social studies department for 11 years.<br />
They are recipients of the Adele Knight Excellence in Teaching Award by virtue of having been chosen for this honor by their peers.<br />
To be so honored by one’s fellow teachers is both meaningful and noteworthy, because so many such awards are merely popularity contests.<br />
I don’t mean to imply that these two teachers are not popular, because they certainly are, but they also have the honor of being selected by their peers for the excellent work they do.<br />
I will spend the remainder of today’s essay telling you how these awards came to be, and next week I will give you some background on this year’s winners and share some of the opinions offered by their principals and fellow teaches.<br />
The awards were the brainchild of Dr. Wesley J. Pignolet, a graduate of Willoughby Union High School and great admirer of Adele Knight, who was his Latin teacher.<br />
Wes was a general practitioner in the field of medicine who later returned to college to specialize in ophthalmology, a field in which he was to gain acclaim in Willoughby and throughout the area.<br />
As was so often the case when he came up with a great idea, Wes invited a group of friends and fellow Union High graduates, about 15, as I recall, to lunch.<br />
He spoke of his admiration for Miss Knight, and said it would be a worthy undertaking to establish a scholarship in her honor.<br />
She was still living at the time, and was flattered by the offer. But several of us believed that there were plenty of scholarships available to students who had the desire and backgrounds to obtain them.<br />
So, after much discussion, we decided to set up fund to honor the best teachers at each school. The plan was to present the winners with plaques and $500 stipends.<br />
The plan proceeded very well, but in the early years we could afford to honor only one teacher each year —- first one at North and the next year one at South.<br />
Thus beginning in 2000 we rotated the award between the two schools.<br />
We also sent out hundreds, maybe thousands, of letters to former students of Miss Knight, asking for financial support.<br />
The money began to arrive in sufficient quantity so that we were able to present single awards from 2000 through 2004.<br />
By that time we had raised enough money so that we could hand out two awards each year, to a teacher from North and one from South, which we have continued doing to this day.<br />
A quick look at our bank account would indicate that we will be able to continue the awards for a few more years.<br />
That original committee of about 15 members who established the concept for the awards and has carried on with the project has dwindled to about two.<br />
I am one of them, and I think Ann Kassing is the other, although I haven’t seen her lately. The others, including Dr. Jim McCann, Greg Johnson and so many others who learned their verb forms from Miss Knight, sadly to say, are no longer with us.<br />
But we established a legacy worth perpetuating. And, of course, the main credit goes to Wes Pignolet, who never had an idea that he didn’t feel was worth pursuing.<br />
Here is a list of the previous winners of the Adele Knight Excellence in Teaching Award. You may find some familiar names here:<br />
2000 — Bob Prince, North<br />
2001 — Chuck Koelling, South<br />
2002 — Lorraine Gauvin, North<br />
2003 — John Pennington, South<br />
2004 — Patricia Norris, North<br />
2005 — Victor St. Hillaire, North; Lydia Komocki, South<br />
2006 — Betsy Lichtinger, North; Carol Fishwick, South<br />
2007 — Sherry Wagner, North; Marjorie Masci, South<br />
2008 — Sharyn Zeppo, North; Charles R. Stewart, South<br />
2009 — Karen Donahue, North; Karin Maniche, South<br />
2010 — Patrick L. Kwiatkowski, North; Ann Armstrong, South<br />
2011 — Mary Slak, North; Alison Grant, South<br />
2012 — Mary Beth Adams, North; Beth Frabotta, South<br />
2013 — Deanna Elsing, North; Steven Nedlik, South<br />
2014 — Paula Clark, North; Paula Lindsay, South<br />
Next week, more about Kevin Boyd of North and Erin Dodson of South, this year’s winners.<br />
<br />
News-Herald Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10992850793901999785noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991912174842027011.post-29335470838607748012015-09-11T12:25:00.000-07:002015-09-11T12:25:05.402-07:00Pining for a golf event that never came to fruitionThe front page headline a couple weeks ago proclaimed, “Bear sighting in NE Ohio.”<br />
It turns out the bear in question was one Jack Nicklaus, known throughout his illustrious golf career as the Golden Bear.<br />
He was in the news in Northeast Ohio because of his appearance at Elyria Country Club on the occasion of the 25th anniversary of the Jack Nicklaus Golf Benefit, which raises an enormous amount of money every year for Lorain County Community College.<br />
It was a longtime friend of Jack’s, Judge Joseph Cirigliano, who persuaded him to lend his name to the golf outing in hopes of raising funds for the college. To say that the effort has been successful would be an understatement. Over those 25 years, more than $1 million has been raised to benefit the endowment.<br />
I think that has been a terrific undertaking, and my fervent wish, after playing in the Elyria event two or three times, was that we could do something on the same order involving Pine Ridge Country Club and Arnold Palmer to benefit Lakeland Community College.<br />
Joe Cocozzo and I tried hard to make that happen, but our plan met several roadblocks and it just never worked out.<br />
The Elyria event was not cheap. I would say it is one of the more expensive golf outings I have ever heard of. But the charity was a worthy one, and nobody grumbled about the cost — least of all Joe and me.<br />
We didn’t complain because our entry fees were paid by our legal firm, which had managed to put a couple of kids through college with its income from a libel suit or two it had defended on behalf of The News-Herald.<br />
I am doing this from memory (I should check this out with Joe, because his memory is infallible) but as I recall, the entry fee was $400 per golfer.<br />
And here’s an added moneymaker: The pro, in the case of the original event, Nicklaus, would play nine holes with two groups, for an additional $5,000 per golfer.<br />
Yes, that many players were willing to kick in $5,000 each for the privilege of playing either the front side or the back side with the Golden Bear.<br />
Joe and I never approached our legal team with a request to be included with these elite groups. Besides, the fivesomes were routinely sold out.<br />
After Nicklaus originated the event, a different pro was invited every year (always on a Monday, the traditional day off for professional golfers) to lend his name to the event.<br />
And by the way, the pro picked up a check for $25,000 just to appear, play 18 holes of golf and put on a clinic for the rest of the “investors.”<br />
What the pros did with their one-day paychecks was their business. It was also a matter of interest — at least, to me it was.<br />
Some of them, like Nicklaus, gave the money back to the college. Nice gesture. Others pocketed it, presumably because they had bills to pay.<br />
I heard stories about which were the generous ones and which were the cheapskates, but I am reluctant to divulge the names for fear of telling tales out of school.<br />
I remember vividly an event featuring Lee Trevino, because of an incident at breakfast. We had to get there about 7:30 a.m. before the golf got started.<br />
As we were eating our scrambled eggs, I told Joe, who was my boss at the time, he being the N-H publisher, “I’m going to ask Trevino (who was seated at the head table) to autograph this golf visor so we can auction it off to raise money for Clothe-A-Child.”<br />
Trevino complained bitterly about my request. “They don’t even let you finish eating around here,” he growled.<br />
Swell guy, I thought. I was doing it not as a fan of his but for charity.<br />
Another year when Joe and I played in the outing, the event was headed by not one but two professionals — Ken Venturi and Jan Stevenson.<br />
Jan was one of the better looking golfers I have encountered in many years of golf watching.<br />
Venturi left early because he had to catch a plane for California. Stevenson stuck around for our golfing edification and a ball-striking clinic.<br />
Another year Joe attended but I wasn’t there. He said Chi Chi Rodriguez put on an amazing demonstration in which he placed two golf balls on the ground, hit them in quick succession to slice one and fade the other, with the intention of making them collide in mid-air.<br />
“Did they?” I asked.<br />
“No,” said Joe. “But they came awfully close.”<br />
Since Arnie Palmer played out of Pine Ridge in Wickliffe when he won the National Amateur, we though it would be great to put on a similar scholarship event in this area to benefit Lakeland.<br />
Unfortunately, we were never able to make it work out.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
News-Herald Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10992850793901999785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991912174842027011.post-32473773245288529852015-08-31T08:26:00.003-07:002015-08-31T08:26:43.699-07:00Whatever you need to say can wait if you are behind the wheel<div>
I have a friend who comes closer to being the perfect TO (Trained Observer) than anyone I know.</div>
<div>
Let us call him Clark, although that is not actually his real first name. It comes close, though, and a lot of people know him by that name, so let us use it here in order to protect his identity — and to proceed with the parable.</div>
<div>
He told a story over lunch the other day that could be equally harrowing and infuriating. I prefer infuriating.</div>
<div>
He was driving west on Johnnycake Ridge (Route 84) and the car ahead of him veered off the right-hand side of road — twice.</div>
<div>
Something was obviously very wrong, either with the driver or the car.</div>
<div>
It could have been a mechanical defect in the steering. Perhaps the driver had a couple of belts — and I don’t mean seat belts. The belts I am referring to come from a bottle.</div>
<div>
Clark maintained an assured clear distance, as the police like to say, because he didn’t want to get involved in a crash.</div>
<div>
But he was curious to know what was taking place, because the erratic driving was endangering every other driver on the highway.</div>
<div>
The two vehicles approached Center Street (Route 615) in Mentor, and Clark was able to pull up beside the suspect car to observe what was going on.</div>
<div>
As it turns out, the driver was a female. I shall not give her the benefit of calling her a lady, because she was a menace and a threat to everyone in sight. A lady wouldn’t do that.</div>
<div>
She was not particularly young or old. She could have been in her 30s or 40s. And as Clark peered into her car, he could see what was taking place.</div>
<div>
She had an electronic device on her lap, and she was looking down and tapping furiously with both thumbs.</div>
<div>
She was messaging.</div>
<div>
Oblivious to everything going around her, she was sending someone a message.</div>
<div>
That is despicable conduct, unbecoming a safe driver or anyone who has the brains that God gave geese.</div>
<div>
I don’t need to say much about this person, except that I hope she didn’t kill anyone on the way to wherever it was she was going.</div>
<div>
I looked in the paper the next day to see if there were any fatal accidents she might have been involved in, but I didn’t see any.</div>
<div>
But anyone who drives while sending messages the way this person did is a candidate for instant death on the highway. She is, as they say, an accident waiting to happen. If all she does is run off the road occasionally, she is lucky. But one of these days she may veer in the other direction and crash into an unsuspecting driver head-on.</div>
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What can be done with terrorists like this? Yes, they are, in their own way, terrorists.</div>
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There have been ample warnings about this kind of conduct. We all know what can happen when you text and drive. Nothing good can happen.</div>
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When these offenders are spotted by the authorities, they should be arrested immediately and haled into court.</div>
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And if found guilty, they should be punished severely.</div>
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I would recommend horsewhipping, except I don’t think we do that in this country any longer.</div>
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In Singapore, they employ a form of punishment called “caning.” The guilty parties are taken out into the courtyard and beaten with canes, which I believe are made of bamboo. I understand this has a remarkable sobering effect.</div>
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Many years ago, I had a conversation with my close friend the late Judge Fred V. Skok, who presided over the Lake County Probate Court with an iron hand and was conversant with methods of punishment around the world.</div>
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He felt that the types of punishment employed in the Orient, or the Far East, or whatever it is now correct to call that part of the world, do have a certain impact, which he went on to explain.</div>
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Fred and I had a great many such philosophical discussions over the years. I miss him so much.</div>
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The main thing he felt was accomplished by punishment that inflicted pain was it resulted in a very low rate of recidivism. Put another way, when you got out of jail, you really didn’t want to go back. In fact, you made it your business not to go back.</div>
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I certainly do not mean to imply that Fred would ever have condoned that sort of punishment. We simply do not do that kind of thing in this country.</div>
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And I’m not saying we should be doing that kind of stuff in this country, either. I’m just saying.</div>
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News-Herald Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10992850793901999785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991912174842027011.post-30673984647727344142015-08-24T11:06:00.001-07:002015-08-24T11:06:15.358-07:00It's the start of the football season, when every team is undefeatedThere’s something in the air about this time of the year.<br />
If the truth were to be told, there are many things in the air this time of year, including an overabundance of political talk, back-to-school sales and the aroma of pumpkin pie cooking in grandma’s kitchen.<br />
That redolence, of course, has more to do with Thanksgiving than it does with the end of summer, but I often get ahead of myself when I contemplate matters of importance as we lurch into September.<br />
One thing that invariably creeps into my mind at this time of year is college football. As baseball season winds down and the Indians are once again out of contention for the playoffs, the topic of college football begins to seep into my consciousness.<br />
In my mind, I separate college football from professional football for one obvious reason. I often can’t remember what that one obvious reason is.<br />
Oh yes, I have it now. One group gets paid and the other doesn’t.<br />
The Simon Pure group, the college bunch which doesn’t draw paychecks, is motivated purely out of school spirit, whereas the professional group, known as the NFL, gets paychecks of several million dollars per year.<br />
Or per month, depending on the abilities of the individual players.<br />
This season of the year also means it is time for the Football Prognosticators Association to sit down, swap stories out of the dim past about what has taken place in the days of yore and get down to the business of making our choices for the 2015 season.<br />
I have told you before about this bunch of gentlemen. I say gentlemen because there are no ladies involved. This is not by any rule or regulation we have, and it has nothing to do with the 14th Amendment. It is just that no ladies have ever shown up for our annual draft meeting.<br />
That is probably because we have never told anyone outside the group when and where the meeting will take place.<br />
(A hint: It has already taken place — at the former Intorcio’s Restaurant in Willoughby, which now has a different name, on Aug. 18. But I digress.)<br />
The roots of this organization, if you want to call them that, go back to the 1920s, when the group consisted of John F. Clair Sr., who served many years as judge of Willoughby Municipal Court, Harry Ohm, who may have been village clerk, and townspeople like that.<br />
The makeup of the group has, of course, changed dramatically over the years. I have been a member for only about 40 years. There are 10 of us. For all I know, I may be the senior member by now, but there is no way of making certain of that.<br />
First, we determine the order of selection. Then the drafting begins. The first team chosen is always Mount Union.<br />
Any college team can be taken, whether it be any division of NCAA or NAIA.<br />
It seems that John Trebets had the first choice for years, and always picked Mount Union. This year, by the luck of the draw, John Hurley had the first pick, and he took Mount Union quicker than you can say Jackie Robinson.<br />
Geoff Weaver had the second choice and he took Wisconsin Whitewater.<br />
I was holding my breath. I had two favorites, and I was hoping one of them would still be available when it became my turn at No. 6.<br />
Dale Fellows was next, and he seems to be obsessed with Colorado State at Pueblo. Next came Dave Clair, and he took Southern Oregon. So far my two choices were still available.<br />
Rick Stenger picked next, and he took Ohio State. Rats! I wanted the Buckeyes so much I could almost taste the scent of an undefeated season in Columbus.<br />
The good news was that I picked next, and one of my two teams was still on the board, so it took me only a nanosecond or two to shout out, “MHB.”<br />
That would be Mary Hardin Baylor, a team out of Texas which seldom loses a game. And this season I have MHB at the top of my list. Hooray! I am looking forward to another undefeated season.<br />
Here is the way the rest of the first round went: John Trebets took Linfield, Marty Parks chose TCU, Vince Culotta took North Dakota State and Rick Collins selected Oregon.<br />
All 10 of us took three teams plus a bonus pick. I am happy with my three teams. In addition to MHB I have Carroll of Montana, John Carroll and, as my bonus team, Bloomsburg.<br />
You wouldn’t believe the amount of research that goes into making these selections.<br />
I know it is risky taking John Carroll, but I look at it this way: John Carroll and Mount Union, which play each other in the last game of the season (playoffs don’t count), could easily go into that final game with identical 9-0 records.<br />
Mount will be favored, but I will be rooting for John Carroll to go 10-0 and knock Mount from the undefeated ranks, leaving it with a 9-1 season. I can only hope.<br />
So we will be keeping track of 30 choices by the 10 players plus an additional 10 bonus picks.<br />
Here’s some great news: I won’t be doing the record-keeping this year for the first time in about 40 years. The scores will be recorded this year by Dale Fellows’ son Erik. That is not merely a Hooray. It is a Hip Hip Hooray!<br />
No more looking up 40 football scores every weekend.News-Herald Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10992850793901999785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991912174842027011.post-87691395000899527562015-08-21T06:56:00.001-07:002015-08-21T06:56:26.377-07:00An unexpected gift that continues to get better over timeWhen I wrote two weeks ago about the treasure trove of jazz recordings given me by Rich Jordan of Munson Township, he said that, in all fairness, I should mention the kind-hearted individual who had given the collection to him.<br />
As an aside, he lives in Munson Township even though his mailing address is Chardon. If I had a street directory of Geauga County, I could have looked up Twin Mills Lane and discovered that it is located in Munson. However, I do not have the luxury of such reference materials at my fingertips, so I did not make that discovery until I phoned him. But I digress.<br />
“You really should tell the people the identity of the person who gave me the records,” he said. That may not be an exact quote, but it is close enough to make my point.<br />
That is called paraphrasing, and I do a lot of it out of necessity because I do not take notes on conversations, nor do I make recordings of them because to do so might be an infringement on somebody’s right to privacy — either his or mine. I am not sure which.<br />
“Fine,” I said, paraphrasing once again. “Who gave them to you?”<br />
“His name is Don Nemeth,” Rich responded.<br />
“What?” I virtually shouted over the phone.<br />
“Don Nemeth,” he repeated.<br />
“No,” I said. “I didn’t mean that I didn’t hear you. I meant, how in the world do you happen to know Don Nemeth?”<br />
Rich said he does business with him. I inquired only superficially what kind of business it is. My recollection is that one of them either makes or manufactures something, and whatever it happens to be is of value or at least some interest to the other.<br />
I pursued the issue because I wanted to make sure we were talking about the same Don Nemeth, since Rich had said he knew him quite well.<br />
“Is his wife’s name Sue?” I asked in pursuing the questioning, because, I reasoned, how many Don Nemeths can there be who have wives named Sue?<br />
He assured me that her name indeed is Sue.<br />
“I can’t believe it!” I exclaimed, necessitating the use of an exclamation point following the previous rejoinder.<br />
“I know Don Nemeth and his wife Sue very well,” I said. “He is a long-time member of the Willoughby Rotary Club. Not only that, he is a past-president of the club. (I believe the year was 1997).”<br />
Don sits in the same seat every Monday at noon at the former Mounds Club, which is now the LaVera Party Center, in Willoughby Hills.<br />
Without fail, he sits next to his buddy, Dan Ruminski, who is not only the tallest member of the club (Dan claims to be 6-6, but I think he is at least 6-8), but Dan is a man of distinction in his own right.<br />
He is an outstanding story-teller, perhaps one of the best in the country, and two weeks ago I heard him give an hour-long presentation about the nefarious ladies of Millionaire’s Row in Cleveland back at the turn of the century — not this century, the previous century.<br />
It was a riveting talk, presented at a picnic in the back yard of John and Dianne Vanas’ home in Mentor. Dan does a superb job, without notes of course, and the money he raises goes to the Rotary’s Club autism project, which provides I-Pads for autistic children.<br />
That may be slightly beside the point I began with, but I thought it was worth mentioning because the project is so worthwhile and so well-received.<br />
If you have never heard one of Dan’s fascinating, hour-long stories about Cleveland in the 1890s, or the polo farms along the Chagrin River, you should make an effort to do so.<br />
And if you are asked to put in a couple bucks for the autism project, remember, it is well worth it.<br />
Let’s see, where were we?<br />
Oh, yes. Rich was given that marvelous Smithsonian collection of jazz recordings by Don Nemeth because, presumably, Don had no interest in them. And furthermore, Rich likes all kinds of music but thought he would give the collection to someone who would appreciate it even more.<br />
Thus I was on the receiving end. All I can say is, “Wow!”<br />
I stopped and talked with Don and Dan at Rotary the other Monday, and Don told me that it was Sue, not he, who was the jazz fan.<br />
“So you should thank Sue, not me, for the records,” he said.<br />
As I do, Don calls them “records” when they are actually CDs. But who cares? The big difference is that I can play CDs in the car whereas I can’t play records while I am driving.<br />
And there is music on only one side of CDs. But that is splitting hairs. One more thing — the lady of the house also likes all kinds of music, so we can plug in anything we wish and enjoy ourselves on the open highway.<br />
I grew up on big bands and jazz (Glenn Miller, Duke Ellington, Stan Kenton, Woody Herman and their ilk) and before long I was hooked on bebop.<br />
One of my conversion projects was one of my best friends at Fort Hood, Texas.<br />
His name was David Caperton Craighead, and he was the son of a Baptist minister in Waco. That is what they call Hard-Shell Baptist Country, meaning there is probably very little bebop, if any, played at church services. I once went to a Thursday evening service with Dave at his dad’s church when we were on a three-day pass.<br />
Well, I got Dave to liking bop so much that every morning he walked into the office at Fort Hood whistling “Godchild,” which is a Miles Davis tune which you may remember.<br />
Dave had the melody down to perfection. In fact, I taught him so much bop that he mistakenly thought the tune was written by Gerry Mulligan when in fact he only had a solo on the original recording by Miles.<br />
Those were the days. I even had our boss, 1st Lt. Dick Fowler, whistling Charlie Parker tunes from his “Strings” album.<br />
To bring us quickly up to date, I am deeply indebted to Sue Nemeth for those treasured jazz recordings.<br />
If she has any more she’s trying to get rid of, I know of just the repository for them.<br />
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To leave a comment on this column, go to JimCollinsEditors Notebook.Blogspot.com.<br />
JCollins@News-Herald.comNews-Herald Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10992850793901999785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991912174842027011.post-11931895978682414672015-08-12T11:16:00.000-07:002015-08-12T11:16:24.531-07:00Jim Collins: A driving force, Jim Brown leaves behind a lasting legacy in Lake CountyFrom the day he set foot in Lake County to establish his first car agency here, it was apparent that Jim Brown would become a giant in the business community.<br />
His direct approach to getting rezoning for what was to become his sprawling auto empire on Center Street at Tyler Boulevard in Mentor demonstrated that he was a no nonsense and determined man to deal with.<br />
And as the campus grew and grew, it became even more evident that he was a towering figure, not only in the business area but in every other facet of life as well.<br />
Whether in the fields of community service, education or any other aspect of life, he was a towering figure who always knew what was best, what others cared about and how to get there without getting sidetracked.<br />
Why else would a car dealer become so involved in ensuring the future of Lost Nation Airport in Willoughby if he did not consider it such a vital ingredient in the area’s future?<br />
Shortly after he established Classic Chevrolet/BMW he was recognized, in 1988, as the Mentor Chamber of Commerce Business of the year. It was not the last honor he was to receive from the chamber.<br />
I remember that first awards ceremony well. Jim’s acceptance speech was as good as I have heard in sitting through such programs for the past 65 years.<br />
And on the subject of speeches, he gave one at a Lake Erie College commencement that gave an insight into why he was such an enormous success in business.<br />
He merely worked harder than anyone else.<br />
I was there, on the back lawn of the college, to see my granddaughter Destiny receive her bachelor’s degree. Jim was the commencement speaker.<br />
Anyone who listened would have learned some of the main factors that led to his success.<br />
When he began as a car salesman, he said, he arrived at work before anyone else. When the others left for lunch, he remained behind — to sell cars. And when the others left for the day, he stayed behind — to sell more cars.<br />
He was straight forward and direct. And determined. And he also had a sense of humor. Jim was a business graduate of Kent State University, and was the keynote speaker at the Lake County chapter’s annual dinner a few years ago at Hellriegel’s. I have been at every one of the dinners, and Jim’s talk was the best ever.<br />
Funny. Touching. Insightful. To the point. And in many ways poignant.<br />
Over the years, I have conducted 15 hour-long TV interviews with Lake County business leaders at the Mooreland Mansion on the Lakeland Community College campus.<br />
I did one with the Harry Allen family of Great Lakes Power Products, and Jim Brown was in the back of the room, doing a little good-natured heckling of his good buddy.<br />
I asked Jim to do one of the interviews, and he always said, “I’ll get back to you.”<br />
Every time I saw him, I reminded him. He always said he would get back.<br />
One evening, a few years ago, I was having dinner at Gavi’s Restaurant with the lady of the house and Jim and his wife, Darlene, walked past.<br />
I said, ”Jim, have you decided yet on doing that TV interview?”<br />
“I told you, Collins (he always called me by my last name) that I would get back to you,” he responded.<br />
Then he called the server over. “Give them a bottle of wine, any kind they want,” he said, motioning toward us.<br />
That was Jim Brown all right — direct, always in command and generous to a fault.<br />
I had told him several times we wanted two Chrysler Sebring convertibles — used, because we couldn’t afford new ones, low mileage and very reasonably priced.<br />
We were with him one day at a Lake County Captains baseball game at Classic Park, so named because of Jim’s generosity in buying naming rights. I reminded him about the convertibles. He whipped out his cell phone and made a call.<br />
“I’ve got six in Streetsboro,” he said. “Four are white and two are silver.”<br />
“We’ll take one white one and one silver one,” we told him while he was still on the phone.<br />
Done. Within two days, we had both of the cars. The lady of the house decided she didn’t like convertibles and drove it for only a year.<br />
I drove the silver one for several years, and my daughter Diane is now driving it, very proudly. She takes great care of it. It is immaculate and looks as if it will last forever.<br />
Jim told me they had been rental cars in Hawaii, accounting for their superb condition.<br />
I tell you this story to illustrate what kind of a guy Jim Brown was.<br />
The word “unique” describes him perfectly, because he was truly one of a kind.<br />
His death was a great loss, not only to Lake County but to the entire area of Northeast Ohio.<br />
Never again will I hear that familiar shout, “Collins,” and know that it was the legendary Jim Brown, seeking to get my attention.<br />
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News-Herald Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10992850793901999785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991912174842027011.post-77779358970274482862015-08-04T07:50:00.001-07:002015-08-04T07:50:22.000-07:00Gift from a stranger provides countless hours of joy In the lives of many of us — you, me, most others — music is a common denominator.<br />
It takes all kinds of people to make up a reasonably sound society, and there are all kinds of music easily available for us to enjoy.<br />
So if your thing is popular music, classical, jazz, country, blues, polkas or whatever (make your own choice) music makes the world go ‘round.<br />
We don’t all have to agree on what we like, as long as we are able to identify with something that pleases our senses.<br />
If you like music that is soothing, you are one of the millions who appreciate pleasing sounds.<br />
If you like music that is grating, abrasive and offensive, well, enjoy it if you wish, but don’t expect me to come to a house party that features raucous sounds.<br />
With that as preamble, let us now proceed with the topic of today’s sermon, which is about the ability of some people to enrich the lives of others they don’t even know, or haven’t even met, simply by offering to them a bevy of musical treasures to appreciate and enjoy.<br />
In the Merry Month of May I received an email from a gentleman I had never met. His name is Rich Jordan and his address is Chardon, which could be a neighboring community, given the fact that the post office may serve surrounding areas.<br />
He started out by saying, “For years I have read your editorials and agreed with you 98 percent of the time (little scary.)”<br />
I have never intended to scare anyone, Rich, but I am glad it was editorials you found scary, not columns. I don’t know that I have ever scared anyone with a column, but you can never be certain.<br />
He immediately clarified his meaning, however, by saying, “In your columns that you write now I notice that you enjoy jazz music.”<br />
Yes, indeed, to coin a phrase. I most assuredly do.<br />
“A friend of mine,” he wrote, “gave me the following CDs:<br />
“The Smithsonian Collection of Classic Jazz, a boxed set of three CDs with a nice booklet.<br />
“Big Band Jazz from the beginnings to the 50s (Smithsonian), a boxed set of four CDs with a booklet.”<br />
As I read on, my breath began to arrive in short pants, which is fine for this time of year. But I digress.<br />
“Jazz Piano, a Smithsonian Collection. A boxed set of four CDs with a booklet.”<br />
Rich’s following comment ensured me that he falls into my classification of Great Americans, and that we could become friends forever.<br />
“I will most likely never play these myself,” he said. “If you would like to have them they are available for the low, low price of free.”<br />
All I could do at that point was gulp. It was an offer I couldn’t refuse.<br />
“Honest, I would like to give them to someone who will appreciate this music. Please let me know if you are interested.”<br />
His phone number was at the bottom. Do you know how long it took me to reach for the phone? The time span could be measured only in nanoseconds.<br />
A few days later he showed up at the college with an armload of boxes containing a dozen or so CDs with some of the finest sounds ever captured by sound engineers anywhere.<br />
Some of the titles were already in my collection. Others were familiar to me but I never owned them — until now.<br />
Others were brand new entries in my world of jazz.<br />
All of them now repose in the back seat of my car. I have been playing them over and over. I love them. The lady of the house enjoys them. They are, to me, priceless.<br />
And to think Rich gave the to me for not even a farthing.<br />
Incredible!<br />
The “Classic Jazz” collection is accompanied by a 120-page booklet.<br />
The recordings begin at the beginning of jazz, with Scott Joplin’s “Maple Leaf Rag” and continue with Jelly Roll Morton, Bessie Smith, King Oliver’s Creole Jazz Band, Sidney Bechet, James P. Johnson and Louis Armstrong and his Hot Five, and Frankie Trumbauer.<br />
And that is only the beginning.<br />
Other artists in the collection include Fletcher Hendeson, Fats Waller and the Benny Goodman Trio.<br />
Later we hear from Lionel Hampton, Teddy Wilson and Lester Young. But let’s move on, to “Big Band Jazz.” There is another fabulous booklet. Artists include Duke Ellington, Count Basie, Tommy Dorsey, Woody Herman, Stan Kenton and too many others to enumerate here.<br />
The third collection, “Jazz Piano,” accompanied by another fine booklet and recordings by the greatest names in piano known to mankind.<br />
All the greats are there: Oscar Peterson, Dave McKenna, Art Tatum, Lennie Tristano, Thelonious Monk, Bud Powell, Errol Garner — they are all in there.<br />
I can’t thank Rich Jordan enough for his kindness in giving to me this marvelous collection.<br />
I shall continue to play them in the car virtually everywhere I go.<br />
Fortunately, this is all hands-free playing. So it doesn’t interfere with driving. It merely puts a smile on my face.<br />
***<br />
In two weeks, I’ll let you know how Rich Jordan came into this treasure trove of jazz. I’m reserving next Sunday for some personal remembrances of Classic Chevrolet’s Jim Brown.News-Herald Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10992850793901999785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991912174842027011.post-54850986345720823362015-07-31T08:42:00.000-07:002015-07-31T08:42:21.858-07:00Snail mail can be more reliable than e-mailI surrender.<br />
Unlike Perry Como, I am not a prisoner of love, I am a prisoner of emails.<br />
They are bad enough when they are totally unwanted and make no sense. They are even worse when they never arrive at all because they can’t find me.<br />
That is the problem at the moment. I have tremendous difficulty accessing emails that are sent to me at The News-Herald.<br />
Let’s just say that if you send me any more emails at the paper, you might just be wasting your time.<br />
And if you send them to me at home, I may not see them for weeks, perhaps months.<br />
That is because I am totally disgusted with the computer I have at home. I open it only every so often — which could be next week, next month or next year.<br />
There are two reasons for this: (a) the computer is so slow, no matter what Time Warner says about speedy service, and it takes so long to warm up that I could turn it on and prepare a standing rib roast while I am waiting to gain access to the darned thing.<br />
I almost swore there, but I caught myself just in time.<br />
And (b), which we will refer to as the second reason, is that our pure white cat, who goes by the name of Ruby, spends most of her time sleeping on it. The computer, that is.<br />
Ruby is regarded by the lady of the house as a very special person, meaning that she has far more rights than you and I are guaranteed by the Constitution.<br />
That means Ruby can do anything she wants, within reason, and nobody can mess with her.<br />
She has far more rights than Antonin Scalia could ever find in the Constitution.<br />
She is, in a word, here to stay. That is actually three words, but I think you know what I mean.<br />
So when we are eating breakfast and Ruby is on the computer, sleeping, we leave her alone. That is her domain, and we respect it.<br />
Thus I don’t see many emails at home or at the paper.<br />
Fortunately, I do have another source for seeing emails, at the college, and that is a good thing, because I get a lot of them there, and I read them, or at least look to see what they are about, every day.<br />
That is a slight exaggeration. I do not see them Saturdays or Sundays. But I do see them five days a week, and I respond to them if I deem it necessary.<br />
Now, just like the emails at the other two sources, many of them I get at the college are less than scintillating.<br />
My email address there is widely known, and I mean widely, so I get all the latest bulletins from PetSmart, Craftsman tools, Bed Bath and Beyond (one guess who those are meant for — a hint, not me) or people who want to do things to my car, sell me things or in some other way attract my attention for purposes semi-legitimate or nefarious.<br />
But at least I don’t get any at the college from a guy who used to work at the paper. I shall refer to him as Rob.<br />
Rob thinks that every thought that crosses his mind in the fields of music or sports is important. It isn’t. I can do without them.<br />
In sum, if you send an email to me, be prepared to wait a few weeks, perhaps months, for an answer.<br />
Other than that, I love computers. I really do. They just don’t love me.<br />
***<br />
The best way to contact Jim Collins may just be via snail mail. Reach him c/o The News-Herald, 7085 Mentor Ave., Willoughby OH 44094.<br />
<br />
<br />News-Herald Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10992850793901999785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991912174842027011.post-6108315225218229622015-07-22T08:56:00.002-07:002015-07-22T08:56:40.492-07:00Following orders is a grueling taskDo you ever get the feeling that you are always getting orders to do this or do that?<br />
Taking orders is OK if you are in the Army and your first sergeant is telling you what to do. In that situation, you had better follow his instructions or you could end up walking around picking up papers with a nail on the end of a stick, with a large “P” on your back, and a guy carrying a shotgun is following you.<br />
That, of course, is a rather extreme example of what can happen when you don’t follow directions. What I have in mind at the moment is much benign.<br />
I am thinking about more everyday orders, which come at you from every direction no matter what you are doing.<br />
I mean, you can’t even pay a bill through the mail without somebody telling you what to do.<br />
Just the other day (once a month, actually) I wrote a check to the gas company.<br />
Some people, especially those who understand and are able to live comfortably with computers, pay bills electronically. I do not do that. And I don’t make bank deposits or withdrawals on a computer. Too many things can go wrong. I read about those terrible occurrences every day. They are frightening.<br />
The Cleveland paper has a regular column about things that go wrong because people depend on computers to make financial transactions. You can lose your bank account, your house, all of your hair and your composure to boot if you use a computer to do all of your everyday chores for you.<br />
But I digress.<br />
I was talking about simply trying to pay a gas bill and encountering more “do this” orders than I was comfortable with.<br />
Most business envelopes have a couple of instructions — you know, in case you are too dumb to figure them out for yourself.<br />
You have already written the check, you have the check and the stub from the bill in one hand, and you are ready to put them in the envelope.<br />
But when you open the envelope and prepare to lick the gummy part, the first thing you see is an order: “Put your account number on your signed check payable in U.S. dollars.”<br />
I am constantly getting orders to put my account number on my check, no matter where the check is going.<br />
I never do that. If the people in the office who open the envelope can’t keep from getting the checks and the payment stubs from getting mixed up, that is their problem, not mine.<br />
There is no way I am going to pay the same bill twice just because some clerk can’t keep the checks and the stubs straight.<br />
Of course, it may not be a clerk that is opening the envelope. It may be a machine. That is not my problem either. The company should invent better machines.<br />
The next order aimed at me by the gas company is: “Fill out money orders completely and include your account number.”<br />
That one I can understand. Money orders are different than checks. I suppose they can be trusted, but as a matter of policy, I never use them.<br />
Order No. 3: “Use only blue or black ink.” I understand why Bob Feller used only black ink when signing autographs, because that is the American League color, and the National League uses blue ink (I hope I don’t have that reversed) and the distinction is important to him as a matter of pride and policy.<br />
But why should the gas company care? If I used red ink, or green ink, would that invalidate the check?<br />
(Don’t tell me that a machine is reading the checks, and it can only read black or blue ink. I don’t want to hear about that.)<br />
No. 4: “Do not fold, staple or use paper clips.” We all know that one. Why would anybody want to fold a bill, staple it or clip things together? Somebody would just have to take them apart. That is a lot of extra work. Studies have shown that companies have spent hundreds of thousands or dollars removing staple and paper clips. The gas company would just have to raise the price of gas to pay the extra people doing this unnecessary work.<br />
No. 5: “Do not send cash, stamps or rebate coupons.” I suppose there are people who actually do this. Obviously, it is not a good idea. For one thing, the person opening the envelope might grab a couple of bucks before turning the rest over to the company. With a check you cannot do that.<br />
No. 6: “Do not include correspondence.” That should be at the top of the list. There are probably people who pay bills who can’t resist the urge to let off a little steam — to get a deeply held gripe off his or her chest.<br />
No, don’t do that. Find a better way. Call the president of the company and tell him your gripe.<br />
If he is any kind of an executive, he will listen to you and take immediate action.<br />
That is a list of “commands” that comes every month with the gas bill. And that is only the gas bill.<br />
Think of all the other mail you get every day or so that comes with a set of instructions telling you to do this or don’t do that.<br />
It can be suffocating. I am all for having a brave new world with a lot fewer orders.News-Herald Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10992850793901999785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991912174842027011.post-89015130803069641372015-07-14T09:59:00.003-07:002015-07-15T07:36:48.541-07:00Fond memories of Tony Ocepek, a man who lived a full lifeI was going to write that Lake County lost one of its brightest, most innovative and most creative minds with the passing of Tony Ocepek of Waite Hill.<br />
But that doesn’t scratch the surface in describing the far reaches of his thought process.<br />
His memorial service a week ago yesterday at the First Presbyterian Church in Willoughby was a huge outpouring of friends who wanted to pay their respects to a man they knew so well — and for so many different reasons.<br />
He did so many things for so many worthwhile causes. Yes, he owned a lot of radio stations all over the East Coast, including the former WPVL in Painesville. It would be difficult to list all of them. And he was a naturalist and nature lover beyond description. That’s why he and his wife, Peggy, gave their old schoolhouse home in Kirtland Hills to the Lake Metroparks District — so that young people could be taught in the ways of nature.<br />
He was a bank director, college trustee, investor in Cleveland Magazine and wore so many other hats that it would take a book, a rather good-sized book, to describe all of them.<br />
But when someone would ask me how Tony accumulated so much wealth, I didn’t attempt to describe his many ventures. I would merely say “vertical real estate.”<br />
That was what Tony called it. He would approach land-owners all over the country east of the Mississippi and tell them he wanted to buy just a tiny plot of land — just a few square feet. No problem. They were willing sellers. And on those tiny specks of land he would build transmission towers for cell phones and other signals that must be relayed because the signals travel in straight lines, they don’t follow the curvature of the Earth.<br />
The three speakers at the service — Steve Madewell, Walter Tiburski and Jon Rowley — all did masterful jobs. Steve is the former director of Lake Metroparks and he and Tony had many dealings that revealed the inner nature of Tony’s deeply-held feelings about the outdoors. Jon was general manager of the former Painesville Telegraph. He and Tony were close buddies. And Walt was his business partner. He knew the inner workings of all of the many dealings they worked out.<br />
And there were a lot of them. They demonstrated Tony’s mental toughness, his unwillingness to take “no” for an answer, and his powers of persuasion to get a deal done.<br />
If you ever knew Tony, you would get the point of a story that Walt told, when they were in New York City working on yet another business deal and were staying at a hotel owned by Donald Trump. As they stepped off an elevator, the guests were being greeted by The Donald himself. He was taking an off-the-cuff survey. He asked if anything could be done to serve them better.<br />
Tony’s response, in Walt’s words, elicited a roar of laughter from the packed church. “As a matter of fact, there is,” Tony told Trump.<br />
That was Tony, all right. He had a better way of doing everything, and he never hesitated to express his feelings.<br />
I did a series of television interviews with 15 of Lake County’s top business executives about six years ago. The setting was the beautiful Mooreland Mansion on the campus of Lakeland Community College. I gave a lot of thought about whom I wanted to interview first. A lot of names flooded my mind. Tony Ocepek, Jim Zampini, Bill Sanford, Dick Muny and his family, the Milbourn Family, Harry Allen, Nancy and Ed Brown, the Crocketts — who would I lead off with?<br />
I picked Tony. It was a great choice. He explained the inner workings of his multitude of business dealings and brought along a couple of devices which I didn’t understand at all that were essential to how some of the electronic things work.<br />
Copies of the interviews — all of them — are still available, and I suppose I could provide some if I can get a price from Phil and Sam in our TV department. I don’t know how much they would charge to recover the cost. But I will tell you this — those two beautiful, large, color photos of Tony that were displayed at the altar during his service were taken from that tape of my interview with Tony, I sent them to the family as tiny attachments on an email, and they had the enlargements made. Technology is amazing these days.<br />
But I digress.<br />
At a service the size of Tony’s, with hundreds of people waiting in line to pay their respects and say a few words to family members, there is never enough time. One doesn’t want to hold up the line. So I shook hands with his children, Mark and Paul and Beth. I wanted to say to Paul, “I remember you as the star football player at Kirtland High School,” but I didn’t want to hold up the line.<br />
And I wanted to recall with Tony’s wife Peggy the days when she taught third grade at Grant Elementary School in Willoughby and I told her at the time, “Don’t you dare retire until my grandsons have had you as their teacher.” And she did have Bryan and Louie in class, but she missed Kenny.<br />
Peggy often asked me about Bryan and Louie. She loved them and they loved her. In her own way, Peggy was every bit as tough as her husband. And that is saying a lot. Because if you were ever going to enter into a business dealing with Tony, you had better bring your “A Game” with you or else you would come out second best.<br />
If you don’t believe me, just ask Walt Tiburski.<br />
He’ll set you straight.News-Herald Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10992850793901999785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991912174842027011.post-43177658198527833372015-07-10T07:42:00.004-07:002015-07-10T07:42:43.964-07:00Dealing with physical ailments can be painful at times<div>
Every morning at the same time, after we have attended to the needs of the animals, the lady of the house and I sit down at the table and enjoy breakfast together.</div>
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She pours her Cherrios and I pour my Cranberry Almond Crunch (hey, we can’t agree on everything) and I turn the small dining room TV on to the national news. You might say we are creatures of habit.</div>
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The news is alternately informative, interesting and depressing. The commercials are uniformly revolting. The vast majority of them are about dread diseases guaranteed to either kill you or leave you in no condition to enjoy life, cure you with pills and ointments that have horrendous side effects, or leave you gasping for breath while waiting for the Grim Reaper to haul you off.</div>
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The awful side effects are so dreadful that, if you survive the medications being advertised, you will probably wish you were dead.</div>
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If you have seen any of these TV blurbs, you know exactly what I mean. It seems virtually impossible to survive the side effects.</div>
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A close friend of mine uses one of the advertised products despite the dire warnings because it does produce the desired result of relieving the pain in his feet.</div>
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I also endure pain in my feet, or rather, my left foot, but I would rather live with the pain than with the morbid thoughts of death and transfiguration warnings that accompany the pills.</div>
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I first learned to identify the foot pain, a nerve condition, while talking with another friend, my long-time golf partner, Ken Gamiere (the one from Lubrizol) who has the same kind of pain – of approximately the same degree.</div>
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The only thing you can do about it, as far as I know, is to take pain killers. If ordinary over-the-counter pain pills don’t do the trick, then the only solution is to go to the doctor and get a prescription for something stronger – something you had better not get caught carrying around without the proper credentials from your doctor, shall we say.</div>
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And that is my course of action. The pain is enough to make you wish you were on a desert island someplace.</div>
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The good news is, the pills make the pain go away. The better news is, the pain is erratic. I have taken as many as two or three in one night so I could sleep. Other times I don’t take a pill for two weeks. So that is good. I do not ever want to become a pill junkie, although I understand there are addicts who take them not for pain but rather for the “high” they bring on.</div>
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That high is not for me. Not for a moment. I would love to be pain-free and pill-free. But if that never comes about, I will continue taking as few pills as possible.</div>
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Lately I have noticed that I have become obsessed with shoes, particularly with the footwear people have on and whether the occupants seem comfortable in them.</div>
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I bought a couple pairs recently that look like bowling shoes. If they happen to feel good, appearances can take a back seat. Besides, there is nothing wrong with bowling shoes, is there? They wear them in bowling alleys, don’t they?</div>
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My mother often complained about pain in her hip, which she said was rheumatism. She took Anacin tablets, and they did the trick for her.</div>
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Anacin never did a thing for my foot. Neither does Tylenol, Advil, or anything else you can buy over-the-counter.</div>
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Mom was tough. She lived to be 93, worked hard all her life, and was sharp-as-a-tack until her last day, which came in a half-baked Florida hospital, where she went to get a stitch for a tiny cut on her head and they turned it into pneumonia.</div>
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I wish I could get by on Anacin, but I can’t. So I take the little white pills and I take them as infrequently as possible.</div>
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And I’m still looking for more canvas bowling shoes. I have some black ones and some grey ones and I’m looking for some blue ones and maybe some tan ones.</div>
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My foot doctor, Dr. Arthur Weinstein, known by his license plate as DR TOE, who has practiced in Willoughby almost as long as I have worked here and who is very sharp in every way, including in his medical practice and in his attire, told me not to wear loafers.</div>
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So I do my best to follow his advice. But I notice that sometimes he wears loafers. Maybe his feet don’t hurt.</div>
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His son shot the all-time lowest round of golf, a 63, at Oakwood Country Club in Cleveland. His record will never be broken because it is no longer a golf course. That is another story. But I digress.</div>
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Meanwhile, do all you can do to be healthy, wealthy and wise. And pain free.</div>
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You will enjoy all those other things more if you are pain free.</div>
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News-Herald Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10992850793901999785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991912174842027011.post-24145577079406798852015-07-03T11:50:00.003-07:002015-07-03T11:50:53.282-07:00If you need more info on Lake County senior centers, just askNecessity has brought me before the TV cameras many hundreds of times over the past three-plus decades for the purpose of interviewing people in the course of my workday.<br />
Most of the “victims” of my interrogations have been political candidates, although a good number of them have been folks who have been successful in various business ventures around the area.<br />
Thus I have tried to make myself look as decent as possible to the viewers, many of whom don’t know me and probably wonder what I look like.<br />
I prefer, in a word, to be presentable to those who are watching.<br />
But what about radio? Who cares what you look like on radio?<br />
I asked myself that question the other day as I was driving down, or over, if you prefer, to Station WINT in Willoughby, the station that was once known as WELW.<br />
I also asked myself along the way, why do stations keep changing their names? There was once a station in Painesville called WPVL, and they billed it as “Where People Value Listening,” which I thought was reasonably clever. But they changed the letters. For what reason I never knew. But it bothered me.<br />
I shouldn’t let things like that upset me. But I digress.<br />
I was driving to WINT to submit to an interview with my good friend Joey Tomsick, an accomplished accordion player and band leader, but who in other circles is known as Joseph R. Tomsick, Chief Executive Officer of the Lake County Council on Aging.<br />
It was in the latter capacity that he wished to talk with me. Not that I am aging that rapidly, mind you, I pointed out with my typical good nature, but because he wanted to help get out the message that there are some fascinating stories that can be told to the people who visit Lake County’s 12 senior centers.<br />
We spent almost the entire show talking about those four programs, and if anyone in Lake County would like to have one of the four programs presented at a meeting, I am the person to call to set it up.<br />
You may have seen one or more of the programs. We have been putting them on for several years to senior centers, libraries, service clubs, retiree groups such as Diamond Shamrock, church groups and many others. If your organization wants to schedule one, all you have to do is give me a call. I will get to that in a moment. We have presented them for as many as 200 people or as few as a half dozen.<br />
My job is to do the introductions. The actual narratives are handled by Kathie Purmal, the retired executive director of the Lake County Historical Society.<br />
Joey Tomsick showed up for our radio interview in a spiffy dark colored suit, button-down shirt and neat yellow pattern tie. Me? I was wearing khaki shorts and a blue T-shirt with some kind of lettering on it. I told him that as soon as we were finished I had to go home and cut the grass.<br />
My point? On radio, who cares what you look like? Certainly not the engineer who is controlling the dials. Radio isn’t, after all, TV.<br />
The four topics available, in case your group wants to hear one of them, are: The Mansions of Lake County, The Fabulous Ladies of Lake County, The Underground Railroad in Lake County, and “Betcha Didn’t Know About Lake County,” a sort of quiz in which members of the audience are encouraged to yell out the answers – if they know them.<br />
You may have seen one or more of the programs. If you have not seen all four, then you still have some learning to do.<br />
At least four times during our interview I told Joey how I can be reached to schedule a program. My number at Lakeland Community College is 440-525-7522. If I’m not there, leave a message and I’ll get back to you. It’s as simple as that.<br />
There are six non-profit partners in putting on the programs. They are, in no particular order, the Lakeland Foundation, the Lake-Geauga Fund of the Cleveland Foundation, Holden Arboretum, The Lake Health Foundation, The Lake County Council on Aging and The Lake County Historical Society.<br />
There are also two partners in the business world who help with publicizing our activities – The News-Herald and Radio Station WINT.<br />
We will try to accommodate as many requests for programs as possible, with this proviso – if Kathie Purmal is not available on the date and time of your choosing, then it will be extremely difficult to have the show go on.<br />
There may be others who can handle the power point presentations, but I don’t know who they might be.<br />
Keep in mind also that the price is right. The programs are free.<br />
<br />
News-Herald Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10992850793901999785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991912174842027011.post-15854043130434182192015-06-26T07:57:00.000-07:002015-06-26T07:57:21.817-07:00Class reunion open to all<i>“A pretty girl is like a melody...”</i><br /><br />
Yes, indeed. My own personal pretty girl is very much like a melody. A melody that I can never do without.<br /><br />
There are many other songs about pretty girls, and they all make sense to me.<br /><br />
<i>“There are girls just waiting for kisses, and I want to get me a few.”</i><br /><br />
Another compelling sentiment. I agree wholeheartedly. But do you notice the references to “girls?<br />
<br />
Songwriters never say anything about “ladies” or “women.” At least, not in my record collections they don’t.<br />
<br />
No, love songs are almost always about girls – especially pretty girls.<br /><br />
There must be a reason. I believe that pretty girls are here to stay.<br /><br />
Now, I don’t know the cutoff age at which “girls” become “ladies” or “women,” but I don’t care, and I’m not going to worry about it any more.<br /><br />
Here’s the situation: I am closely associated with several ladies who prefer not to be called “girls,” and that is OK with me. They sure look like girls to me, but what do I know?<br /><br />
My point is this (I knew I had one here someplace): My brother and I walked into Burgers N Beer in Downtown Willoughby a couple of Sundays ago and I was greeted by a very pretty girl who said, “Hi, Jim.”<br />
<br />
She turned out to be the daughter of John Hesketh, who graduated a year before I did from Willoughby Union High School.<br /><br />
She wondered if the lady of the house and I are going to attend the annual high school reunion which is staged every year through the efforts of Ed Glavac, who was in Hesketh’s class (1945). I responded that it was in our plan.<br /><br />
The reunion is no longer exclusively for people who attended Union High. It is now open to friends. That is good, because we are running out of Union High people.<br /><br />
(The school closed about 1957 and was replaced by North and South highs).<br /><br />
That means you may attend. The reunion will be held Aug. 1 at the Patrician Party Center, 33150 Lakeland Blvd., Eastlake. It is a dinner-dance, slated for 4 to 9 p.m., with excellent food served family-style and dancing to the music of the popular Joey Tomsick Orchestra.<br /><br />
The cost is a very modest $25 per person. There will be an open bar, door prizes, a 50/50 raffle and a lot of fun guaranteed for all.<br /><br />
And that, of course, includes you.<br /><br />
Like all special events, there is a deadline. You must order your tickets by July 25. And you must submit a self-addressed envelope with a check made out to W.U.H. and sent to:<br /><br />
Ed Glavac<br />7465 Harding St.<br />Mentor, Ohio 44060.<br /><br />
If you would like to sit with friends, make a note of it when you order your tickets.<br /><br />
You can buy an ad in the program for $25, $50 or $100. Any additional information, for example your class year, any maiden or married names or other data would be helpful if submitted.<br /><br />
This is the 19th Reunion Dinner Dance, and if you can find a better meal for $25, let me know about it and I will give it a try.<br /><br />
If you have any questions, Ed Glavac can answer them if you call him at 440-953-0510.<br /><br />
The only problem the lady of the house and I have with the event is the timing.<br /><br />
We can’t get our two beautiful puppies fed and get there by 4 p.m. And in our household, the five animals (Maggie, Tricia, and the cats, Angel, Ruby and the newest member of the clan, tiny kitty Lillibelle) come first.<br /><br />
If you are an animal lover, you understand what I am talking about.<br /><br />
And we wouldn’t have it any other way.<br /><br />
Our feelings about the five of them cannot be expressed in mere words.<br />
<br />
And that is the kind of people we are.<br /><br /><br /><br />News-Herald Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10992850793901999785noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991912174842027011.post-26081279749199074332015-06-19T11:22:00.001-07:002015-06-19T11:22:44.837-07:00Memories of John Glenn that will last foreverWhen I was in college, I wrote a term paper on the novelist Thomas Hardy. I never knew what compelled me to do that, but I think it might have been his sense of orderliness.<br />
In his many volumes of writings, he never left any loose ends. When he brought up a subject, he finished it.<br />
There must be a reason why I am telling you this. And there is.<br />
A couple weeks ago, when I was writing about John Glenn and the man who worked for him for so many years, Dale Butland, I left some unfinished business. I said there were three things about the former astronaut and U.S. senator that I will never forget. I promised to recapture them. This is the day.<br />
Dale has worked for John since 1980, and reports that his former boss is now 92 years old and living well and quietly, although he is no longer driving – which must seem strange to a man who orbited the Earth all alone in a space capsule and never had to look for a parking space.<br />
One of the things I remember best about John Glenn came during one of his occasional visits to The News-Herald, when he stopped in just to chat, which he did from time to time.<br />
He had with him a copy of People Magazine. It was dated Oct. 13, 1980. A teaser headline on the cover said: “How Mrs. Glenn overcame stuttering.” (The beautiful blonde on the cover was Cathy Lee Crosby. But I digress.)<br />
The lengthy article inside told how “A senator’s wife licks her political nemesis: stuttering.”<br />
To say that her husband was proud of her would be more than a mere understatement. You had to know the man to understand how much he loved her and the high esteem in which he held her.<br />
“Here,” he said, “you can keep this,” as he handed me the magazine.<br />
Those of you who know me and who have seen the jazz records in my basement are aware that I don’t throw many things away.<br />
Which is totally opposite from the lady of the house, who never lets a day go by without throwing things away.<br />
As you have probably guessed, I still have the magazine. I wish I had asked John to sign it, but I never think of things like that until it is too late.<br />
I do think, however, I will take it with me when I have lunch with Dale Butland at Corky and Lenny’s and ask him to get John to sign it for me.<br />
There is a great picture of John and Annie sitting at the controls of his twin-engine Beechcraft Baron. Which brings up the second thing I remember about John.<br />
I was in Washington for a visit with the four men who represented this area at the time. Three of them were most cordial.<br />
U.S. Rep. Bill Stanton asked me to his home to have dinner with him and Peggy, an invitation I was happy to accept.<br />
Rep. Charlie Vanik sat in his office and chatted with me for more than hour. Charlie was one of the finest gentlemen you could ever hope to meet.<br />
Bill was a Republican and Charlie a Democrat, but they were both Great Americans and so thoroughly decent that it’s a shame we can’t have a few hundred more like them in Congress instead of some of the ... oh well, let’s skip that.<br />
I had a long chat with John Glenn in his office. He started out by saying, “How’s Ev Mastrangelo?” I told him Ev was fine and that I played bridge with the Lake County Democrat chairman at least once a week.<br />
After our lengthy conversation, John asked how I was getting home to Ohio. He offered me a ride in his plane. I thanked him profusely, but said my car was parked at Hopkins, and he said he was flying into Burke Lakefront. So I had to turn down his very kind offer.<br />
(The fourth person I hoped to see was Sen. Howard Metzenbaum, but he flatly turned me down. Oh well, three out of four isn’t bad, especially when the three were all people so beloved by the pubic.)<br />
Here’s my third remembrance of John Glenn. He stopped in at the paper one day just as we were about to start construction on a new pressroom at our former building, which is only a few steps from our present building.<br />
“Come with me,” John, I said. “We’re going to have a groundbreaking and there’s an extra shovel.”<br />
So a dozen or so of us went outside, we grabbed shovels, and one of our crack photographers took a picture of us, including the senator/astronaut, digging a shovel of dirt to break ground on the addition.<br />
That picture is another thing I probably have stashed away someplace, but please don’t ask me where that might be. It might take me a few days to find it.<br />
A footnote: The reason I met Dale Butland for lunch at Corky and Lenny’s was so he could introduce me to his candidate for U.S. Senate, P.G. Sittenfeld, who will be running next year in the Democratic primary against Ted Strickland. The winner will oppose Republican Sen. Rob Portman, who remains one of the nicest people I have ever met. Dale and P.G. were on a whirlwind tour of Akron, Cleveland and Youngstown, and our lunch spot was the closest place we could connect.<br />
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