Classic Rant #253 (May 11, 2010): Love, Come Blow Your Horne

Actress, singer, dancer and political activist Lena Horne died over the weekend. She was over 90 years old.

Horne was more than just a show business personality. She transcended a different period in our history, and segued into her later years with a style, grace and beauty that is pretty uncommon.

And let's face it, this lady was one of the most beautiful women on the planet.

She was one of the only black stars to be under contract to MGM in the 1940s. Her most famous movie was "Cabin in the Sky," and her most famous song was probably "Stormy Weather."

She really stuck out like a sore thumb during those years. But she challenged stereotypes, and more often than not, won the battles, if not the wars.

And she did it elegantly.

Horne was in the first Broadway show my parents saw after I was born, the not well remembered although very successful "Jamaica." Funny, last year I finally found this show on vinyl. It really doesn't hold up, as it fed into the calypso craze of the late 1950s.

But during its time, it was revolutionary. Not only did it feature an all-black cast, but the lead role was originally written for the king of calypso at the time, Harry Belafonte. When he was unavailable for the role, it was rewritten for Horne. It was nominated for best musical of 1957, and I believe Horne was also nominated.

Later on, I remember her role, as herself, on a classic episode of "Sanford and Son." Fred is on the NBC lot taking a tour, when he hears that Horne is going to be a guest on The Tonight Show. He finds her dressing room, breaks in, and one thing leads to another, and Fred invites Horne to visit his son, little "lame" Lamont. She begrudgingly agrees to visit their home in Watts.

Well, in the meantime, Fred bets his buddies that she will be there, and of course, no one believes him. She shows up, they pay up, and Fred gives all the money to her for the charity event she will be part of.

She was in her 60s then, and she looked like she was in her 30s!

Horne will be missed, not only for her presence, but for her grace in breaking down barriers of every kind.

She was a one of a kind.

Rant #1,602: Pat Paulsen For President

Well, Ted Cruz beat out Donald Trump, and I don’t know exactly who won the Democratic caucus in Iowa, but right now, I am ready to vote for …

Pat Paulsen!

Yes, even though he passed away about 20 years ago or so, I think he would make a fine President.

I did way back when in 1968, and I still do now.

Because he made me laugh, and, I guess, think.

If you were around in 1968, we were in one of the most tumultuous periods in our history. There was rioting in the street, rioting at the Democratic National Convention in Chicago, assassinations of important figures both happening and soon to come, drugs all around, and we were still fighting in Vietnam.

And it took the power of TV to bring to focus exactly what was happening.

For the first time, the grisliness of war was being brought into our living rooms on a regular basis on the nightly newscasts, and people finally figured out that war was not like it was portrayed in several Abbott and Costello movies.

And what exactly were we fighting for? Few knew, but we were there, and it didn’t appear as if we were doing anything but sacrificing our young men to bloodshed.

TV was still stuck in the Mayberry mold, but then came two brothers from the same mother who helped change what we watched on TV forever.

A few years before “All in the Family” changed the overall mood of network TV, “The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour” helped open up the door to the new wave of thinking brought on by the youth of this country.

Both Tom and Dick Smothers had been around the block, and they kind of blended into the rest of comedy at that time, pretty much laid back and staid with some biting sarcasm thrown in for good measure.

But once their show took off in its most cutting and biting form, nothing was ever the same again on TV, and I mean nothing.

Just about any political subject was open to scrutiny now, and the Vietnam War was open to be ripped wide open by the Brothers Smothers, their writers and their guests, as well as their troupe of entertainers, including Pat Paulsen.

Paulsen was a veteran satirist who had also been around the block a bit, posting his barbs with his very laid back personality. He always seemed to be half asleep when doing his act, but the best was yet to come from him.

With the Smothers Brothers show in its full flight of ridiculing everything in sight, Paulsen and the show’s writers got the brilliant idea to mock the 1968 presidential race by having him proclaim that he was running for the country’s top office, and do it right on the TV show for the whole country to witness.

And he did just that, and the rest is history.

Each and every week leading up to November, Paulsen would speak from the podium, delivering his views and insights on every topic under the sun, and delivering them in his usual nearly comatose state.

"Picky, picky, picky" was his catchphrase, and he ran it to the hilt during his mock campaign.

“Pat Paulsen For President” buttons started to be printed, he released a best-selling comedy album, and I think a lot of people actually thought he was running for the White House.

In fact, his weekly appearances kind of brought equal time rules into play, because it was believed that he was really running for office, and his five minute spots every week on the show were five minute political ads, and some other candidates wanted equal time … especially since his five minute spots were being seen by millions of people, millions of younger adults who were possibly voting for the first time, each week.

And the “real” candidates wanted to have that type of audience to preach to.

All told, Paulsen did get votes that November, probably totaling in the many thousands, but most people—especially young ones—were well in on the joke.

Paulsen subsequently ran again in 1972, and intermittently thereafter until his death.

And each time he supposedly ran, he got thousands of votes.

But in 1968, people really listened to what he had to say, because in between the comedy, there was a certain sense of sanity, a certain sense of a “real” message being delivered.

The current crop of candidates really do need someone like Paulsen to make them wise up to their own personal deficiencies. And they each have a lot of them, both Democrats and Republicans.

And Paulsen, if he were around today, would have brought each and every one of them out into the open in his own unique way.

And he would do it looking half asleep, of course.

Maybe that is the way to look at the current crop of candidates …

Nearly comatose, or at least with just one eye open.

Classic Rant #252 (May 10, 2010): Weather Or Not It’s Spring

Has the weather been kind of bizarre during the past few months?

After a crazy winter--where we here in the East received a ridiculous amount of snow--we are now in spring, and things haven't gotten too much better, or any less bizarre.

I know that where I live, we have gotten all different kinds of weather, sometimes with little warning that we are going to get such a difference in weather than the previous week, or even the previous day.

Take this weekend. We had been getting temperatures in the 70s and 80s, and even had one or two 90-degree days.

The shorts and short sleeves came out, and it looked like the nice weather was here to stay.

Then--bang!--we got hit this weekend with some crazy weather.

Not only did it go into the 30s overnight on Sunday, but Mother's Day was cold and extremely windy. It was in the low 50s and the gusts got into the 50 mph range in some areas. This is after a Saturday where we were supposed to get rain, never did, and temperatures were in the high 70s.

To me, this is not typical May weather. I told my wife that I swore it was October when I looked out the window yesterday morning.

And, to top it off, some of New York's northernmost areas may have even gotten snow this weekend--and this is after they received some white stuff two weeks ago or so.

The middle part of the country has had rainstorms, flooding, tornadoes ... this is really crazy weather, isn't it?

There really isn't much anyone can do but grin and bear it.

Summer supposedly comes next month, and hopefully, it just won't be the name of the season that comes, but nicer weather too.

Isn't that what summer is about?

Right now, the shorts and the short sleeves are in the drawer, but I think they might sit there for awhile. I actually drove to work today with the heat on!

Rant #1,601: Groundhog Day ... and Felix Unger Day

Yes, today is Groundhog Day, and I forget what is what if the groundhog sees his shadow.

Or really, if it matters that much at all.

Yesterday, I think it got up to 59 degrees, quite unusual for the first day of February.

It is 20 degrees warmer than it should be, and for allergy sufferers like myself, it has made everything haywire, because things are blooming that shouldn't, and it is expanding the peak allergy season.

Right now, I am having trouble seeing out of my right eye, and my whole right side is drippy.

I hate the snow, but this weather that we are having is quite ridiculous.

I heard that it is kind of cyclic, and that we had similar weather craziness about 25 years ago in 1991.

Global warming or not, I can't take this weather right now, because it is making my allergies go haywire.

So I have a choice--shovel my way through the snow, or suffer privately while everyone else enjoys the warm weather.

I guess I am going to have to suffer, because whether I have to shovel snow or blow out snot, I am suffering pretty much equally.

As I said, I can barely see out of my right eye--and that eye is supposed to be my "good" one.

It has nothing to do with the condition of my eye, which as I said before, is actually pretty good right now, according to my doctor.

It has to do with everything connected to everything else in my head, so if my allergies are inflamed in my nose, I am sure to feel it elsewhere, like in my eyes and in my throat and in my ears.

Yes, today is "Felix Unger Day," as I will be making plenty of noises throughout the day to clear out my nose and throat of allergy garbage that builds up over the course of the day.

We all laughed at Felix--from "The Odd Couple"-- when he made those noises, and I think the funny part is that it was simply funny because it was so true.

Human foibles can be funny, because they are so true. Unger's malaise was true, was funny, except to Unger himself.

I guess when I make my noises, I myself will chuckle while I am suffering.

And I will be suffering today.

It usually takes between two and four hours for my eye to clear up when I have something like what I have today, so by about 8 a.m., I should be better ... not back to normal, but better.

But right now, as I type this with basically two hands and one eye, it is a bit troubling.

But at least I am honoring Felix Unger the right way, by suffering along with him.

Let me end today's Rant, and suffer in peace.

Classic Rant #251 (May 7, 2010): It Was 40 Years Ago Today ...

Well, not quite today, but 40 years ago, on May 9, 1970, I had my bar mitzvah.

I went into the whole situation revolving around my bar mitzvah in a previous post: the Kent State and Jackson State shootings, the aftermath, the school situation, and my health.

I won't belabor those points again.

But I do remember my bar mitzvah very, very well.

I was sick, but not as sick as I was on May 8. My parents asked me how I was doing, and I said that I was OK, certainly well enough to do my bar mitzvah speech, known as a haftorah.

It was a Saturday morning service, and I shared the dais with a friend of mine, Danny Blumenstein (who is now an attorney in New York City).

If I remember correctly, I did my haftorah first. While he did his, I felt a little wobbly, but I had to stand there while he did his. Thank goodness our haftorahs weren't that long.

As is a tradition that some families follow, his haftorah was followed by his family and friends throwing walnuts at him (I have no idea why this is a tradition.) Of course, I got pelted too, not very good as I was wobbly to begin with.

I remember nearly passing out as the walnuts hit me, and I literally left the dais and went outside for some air. My father followed me out, asked if I was OK, and I went back in to complete the service.

As is a tradition, the congregation gave both of us some gifts, including a bible, if I remember correctly.

When it was over, my parents had many friends and relatives over to our apartment for food and fun. I did not have my reception that day; it was held on May 22, due to a restriction on holding "joyous occasions" during a certain time of the year on the Jewish calendar (I can't tell you more because I really don't know more; suffice it to say that my orthodox grandparents would not have come to a reception on that day, so we didn't have one.)

When I got home, I went into my room with my friend Robert (since deceased) as all the hubbub was going on in the rest of my apartment. I remember breathing a sigh of relief, and that sigh seemed to push out all the sickness from my body. From that point on, I was fine.

It was all nerves. (Look at the picture ... that is my sister and I during the candle lighting ceremony at the reception. Look how relaxed I am--if you can't tell, take it from me, I was very relaxed that day.)

You have to understand that I was the first grandchild and great grandchild, the first son, and the first child that my parents had. Upon birth, a lot of responsibility was placed on my head. Having a boy is so important in the Jewish religion, as it is in others, as it carries on the family name until at least the next generation, and all the duties that that entails.

Well, not only did I fulfill my responsibilities by being born, but having a son myself years later continued everything on to another generation.

Anyway, I simply cannot believe that it is 40 years since this joyous occasion (and this sigh of relief). I am pretty much the same person, although I am older, balder, heavier, and a little more disgruntled with things than I was then.

But boy, what a day it was. It was one I will never, ever forget.

Rant #1,600: The Eyes Have It

My eye exam went well. It went so well, in fact, that the doctor said that I couldn't have even wished for better results.

Thank goodness for that.

With all the pushing, probing, and looking into my eye last Friday morning, I was hoping that it was all going to be worth it ... and since I got such great exam results, I guess that it was all worth it, for my peace of mind at least.

As a result of this, I don't have to see him again until July, or around the time that this blog will hit 1,700 entries.

I cannot believe that 1,600 entries have gone so fast, in a little less than seven years or so.

As you already know, this is the second version of the original blog, as that blog was hacked.

One day, when I am really old and gray, I will have all of those original entries right here in this blog, under the "Classic" entry that you see every day.

Please, do not go to the original blog. It was hacked, Google still doesn't care, and I just thank goodness that I can access the posts there and bring them here.

So all around, everything is good. My eyes are good, the blog is good, the snow is almost gone, which is really good, and nothing that much happened this weekend, which is also good.

Yes, I know that Paul Kantner of the Jefferson Airplane/Starship passed away. That band, early on, epitomized the true counter culture coming out of San Francisco. Later, it epitomized the dreck that rock and roll had become, and still is.

But he was there for both ends of the stick, and he was a survivor of sorts, so I will salute him here right now.

There really isn't more to say on Kantner's count. Some people found him cool, others thought he was a phony--rich beyond his dreams on one hand, a man for the people of San Francisco on the other.

You can have it both ways, and he seemed to prove that.

Otherwise, his death did not make me rush out and listen to my Jefferson Airplane stuff, or even my Jefferson Starship or KBC records.

But, he gets a mention in this 1,600th blog entry because he was a seminal figure in the 1960s counter culture, and while the Jefferson Airplane was not the first band out of San Francisco to make it big on the national scene, as so many of his obituaries said--it was the Beau Brummels, produced by one Sylvester Stewart, later to make his own ruckus as the leader of Sly and the Family Stone--they were the first to represent the emerging lifestyle in that progressive city, so when the history of San Francisco is written, there must be a chapter on the Jefferson Airplane.

Moving on from that, my wife and I found another quirky movie to watch on Saturday night.

It was an oddity from the same period where the Jefferson Airplane became big, in 1965, a small little film called "Harvey Middleman, Fireman."

It is about a poor schlemeil, who just happens to be a New York City fireman, who is married and has two kids.

All of a sudden, at the old age of 35, he has a mid-life crisis, he falls in love with a pretty blond that he rescues from a fire, and he manages to juggle his home life and his private life away from home until the two worlds collide, and he recognizes where his bread is really buttered.

So he goes home to his wife and his family, and it is happily ever after for the Middlemans.

I liked the movie, in part because again, like the film I told you about last week, it pushed the boundaries maybe as far as it could about what could and could not be shown in movies in 1965, although not as forcefully as the film with Beverly Garland that I discussed with you last week.

In this film, once again, a lot is implied, but little shown.

You could see that filmdom was really on the brink of a revolution, because just three years later, when what you could show on screen was a bit more open, this film could have done just that.

But in 1965, it wasn't time yet.

And I also liked the fact that the film had a barrel full of fine character actors in good roles, including a very young Charles Durning and Arlene Golonka, who I have always liked since she was in TV's "Mayberry R.F.D." Also, Pat Hardy, a ubiquitous presence on late 1960s TV, who was in another quirky production that I remember fondly, a short-lived show called "Occasional Wife."

I also loved the fact that the film was shot right there in New York City, and there are even scenes what were shot at the World's Fair.

This is a real period piece, a real oddity, but if you ever have a chance, I would recommend the movie. It is sort of a dark comedy, and quirky enough that I really enjoyed it.

Otherwise, it was a dull weekend, but here we are at 1,600 entries, and I will speak to you tomorrow as we go ahead to number 1,601, pushing to 1,700.

Who would have thunk it?

Classic Rant #250 (May 6, 2010): Gassed Prices

Have you noticed how, seemingly all of a sudden, gas is going up, up, and away again?

Just a year ago, I think we were paying about $2.00 a gallon. Now it has passed $3.00 a gallon, with no end in sight.

Oh, I know, the oil companies have an excuse for everything. They claim that even though the current quantities are plentiful, it takes more to manufacture "summer" gas than "winter gas," and thus, during the summer, the price goes up.

This is balderdash, of course. The price goes up because more people drive than they do during the winter. More people take longer trips, and thus, this is the period that the oil companies can make a real killing.

And they do. Their profits are up, but our salaries aren't. More people are out of work today, and those that do find a job are taking incredible pay cuts, some as much as 50 percent, from what they were making in their previous job.

Yes, the oil companies keep on raising prices.

What's worse, there is absolutely nothing that anybody can do about it.

Sure, you can ride a bicycle, but no, I can't personally get around on one. Maybe to trips to the supermarket, but that's it.

Simply put, we need automobile transportation, and, thus, we need gas.

And you know, that oil spill that we are reading about will also, eventually, be used as an excuse to jack the prices up.

You just know it.