Saturday, March 18, 2006
OZZIE et al I think he was "Ozzie" from the moment of birth. I never have heard anyone refer to him as "George"- which was his second name, nor "Oswald" either, for matter, even though that was his true name. To me he was, at first, just another eager-to-be-know college boy leading a small dance orchestra. He played decent enough Sax-Clary, which was a marked advantage because, as I recall, too many college music men tried to move upward as wand wavers rather than performers. Born in Jersey City, N.J. of Swedish parents, he grew up in and affluent suburb called Ridgefield Park, was an active Eagle Scout winning an "Exceptional" Award" one year. He played football at Rutgers University where he graduated, in spite of his rather small build. He entered Law School . Those were years when Depression realities dogged all of us and Ozzie knew he had to earn his way. He turned to his best source of income. He became full-time musician. He formed a dance orchestra called "The Ozzie Nelson Band". He was moderately successful in the New York area. His big break came as a self-constructed one in 1930. The New York "'DAILY MIRROR" - one of the nation's largest tabloid newspapers - was running a poll of its readers which would determine which dance band in the New York area was the favorite. Ozzie Nelson realized that the people who sold the "Daily Mirror" did so under the common business rules of that day. They got credit for any unsold copies of the newspaper by returning the first page of the paper and discarding the rest of the issue. The Ozzie Nelson and members, it is said, realizing that the "best band ballot" was not printed on the front page of the paper, "acquired" or "gathered in" as possible of the discarded newspapers ; promptly mailed them in and guess which band nosed out the famous "Paul Whitman Orchestra." as New York's favorite band! In October 1935 Ozzie married the band's vocalist Harriet Hilliard. Son David was born in 1936 and he became a high-wire and trapeze performer, an actor and director. Second son - Eric - forever afterward known as "Ricky" - was born in 1940 and became well know as an actor and singer. "Ozzie and Harriet" appeared regularly on the "Red Skelton" radio shows and in 1954 Nelson developed his own radio series called "The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet". The show went on the air in 1944, with the two son played by actors until 1949. In 1952 the whole family moved over to television and America watched Ozzie and Harriet raise their boys. Stars are at the proper places on the "Hollywood Walk of Fame." Ozzie, Harriett and son Ricky rest at Forest Lawn - "adventuring" somewhere, I can imagine. A.L.M. March 18, 2006 [c482wds]
Friday, March 17, 2006
MONEY MAGIC It may be that I have missed some little point along the way in trying to keep up with the financial world of our time, but I can't quite get with the idea that allows us to have stores at which we can buy and sell money. How can it be that, with all our talk about managing money and reams of laws written specifically to control the rates which can be charged when one person allows an other to use his or her money. It was called "usury" when said charges for the renting of funds got out-of-hand or came to be elusive when called by other names. I don't think empty store-front real-estate in run down sections of some of our cities and towns - even few villages and wide places in the road, have blossomed and bloomed nourished by some hidden growth system. The outward aspect of the old stores have been generously daubed with buckets of paint or with layers of vinyl coverings to cancel years of wear without care. Such work is always hasty modification ,not remodeling to last for a while. The old store front is needed once again., but not for long... just until the bubble causing it's revival - bursts. Inside, the store itself has been shortened. About thirty feet is required; three-laned with and a convenient stand-up desk-counted just wide enough to hold a checkbook. There are variations, of course, but , in general the eager client walks up to one of the windows holding in hand a post-dated check - perhaps the date used is his or her next pay day where they work the exact sequence of events to take place until the borrowed amount of money is returned to the grill-windowed-person with interest charges appended. This can be the moment of crisis. What was the true rate of interest agreed at the start ? What are varied "charges'? How did they get there? What rate of interest was actually used? I hear many questions about these money stores and wonder how much longer they can last. I remember when our banks stopped doing "small loans". They handed them over to credit card firms where "small" loans became "large"ones and the current money markets are, I suppose, a logical step - and an unsteady one at best. I wonder what will come along next? Perhaps a - "Do It Yourself " or a "Print Your Own Plan." A.L.M. March 17, 2006 [c424wds]
Thursday, March 16, 2006
FREQUENT OCCURANCEThe more I read about wartime experiences the more I become convinced that there was one incident which occurred in every theater of war. To me it tells us so much worthy knowing about the average G.I. One version is told by a veteran of the China-Burma-India phase of World War II which so many American citizens - even today - either ignore as having been unimportant compared to other campaigns in Africa, Europe and the naval and island engagements throughout the hellishly large Pacific Ocean area. The Burma Road, Chang Kaia Shea's Nationalist China the strangest of all, ancient over-peopled and over-sacred-cowed India often went unnoticed. For that, and other reasons, I chose the version told by Richard H. Spencer in a letter sent to "Ex-CBI ROUNDUP" Magazine"in November of last year. "...following several weeks of filming actions by Chinese troops, I was about out of film. I left for the long trek back to Bingham to get my films sent out to Ledo for processing. I had started to check on any mail which might have come my way when I was stopped abruptly by a spit and polish major. He was wearing bright suntans overlaid with a growing expanse of medals and decorations; on his shoulder, flashing symbols of his rank and place. "Of what army are you a part of? " he scoffed. "The U.S. Army, sir." "Don't you know to salute an officer? "No one salutes here, sir! Orders. There's a price on all our heads; highest on officers." He did not tell him that even General Stillwell did not wear insignia." The Major the jumped Spencer for being out of uniform as well, since he was wearing cut-offs because air-dropped supplies were all in Regular or small Chinese sizes. If I can get anything that will fit me I'll be glad to get some new pants and shirts, sir!" Without further comment, the Major "stomped" away. The major's name went untold. The G.I. withheld the identification which he knew, but I'll bet you he has watched for that Major's name to appear on every Reunion list ever since. r, is the major's memorial to be found today only in the form of another notch on the apon some sniper - somewhere? a.l.m. March 16,2006 [c394wds]
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
AS OF RIGHT NOWThere are times when we are more or less forced by circumstances to take stock of our lives. I have, I think, in passing the age of ninety years as of February 25th, been in such a time zone when self-examinations as suggested. At such an age I think I know pretty much has happened to me and a larger “me” called family. That part of living is, perhaps, shows better than anything else how worthy ones life may have been. In what ways have I lived so as to influence others who work to seek out the very best of better things? I find it impossible to do as some suggest and to write downs the good things and ,possibly, to try to contrast them with that we call the “not-so-good” elements encountered. I do not fit the category at all, but I count myself as being wealthy. I have always had “ a yearning for learning” as my own Mother once and along my way I have been doubly blessed in having had two fine wives. That does not happen too often and there must be a reason why it all happened as did. Who am I, I have wondered, to have had such special care and attention? There are other puzzles which come to mind, too. Old age creeps up on you. Suddenly one day, you wonder where all the old-timers have gone. It comes not as a sad moment at all, but rather as a gentle reminder that we have taken their place. You, then, become aware of attention coming your way from young people; older people,even older folks, back off a bit when they hug you while standing,fearing they might topple you over. When you come to share that fear, Old Age has moved one step closer. As a finale for my recent party, the family sent aloft ninety small balloons with name and address. I am now getting Happy Birthday greetings from people everywhere! The mention of the event on Andy Jr's world-wide daily satellite radio show (Slash.ComReview) is bringing in more greetings! How can I ever thank these good people? A.L.M. March 15, 2006 [c376wds]
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
PAT I have always been a firm believer in St. Patrick as the man who - single-handedly, mind you - removed each and every snake from the Emerald Isle and left it a gem of virtual perfection in the eye and heart of every true Irishman wherever he may roam. St. Patrick was packaged for young and old alike, right, along with Adam & Eve,he Garden of Eden, Noah with his big, old ark and world-wide flood waters. St. Patrick was ready and available. You did not have to be a Catholic. He was everyone's sainthood symbol. We knew very little about him, as well and fear such ignorance carried over into modern times. I worked, for many years with a man who was as Irish as one can be living afar from Shannon's poetic tide. His family name was, fittingly enough was "Green" fitted with an acceptable first name of "John". John Green and I turned out reams of copy for announcers read on AM, FM and TV. Saint Patrick that famous and easy-to-know was with every every year around the ides of March. We often worked as a team and shared a sense of humor which is a blessing to besieged copywriter facing deadlines. One St. Patrick's years ago, I had an early morning urge to call John at home. I got a sleepy reply after a few rings and I launched into a happy holiday spiel " "Ah, 'n a gud marnin' to th' likes o' thy cheerful self, Brother John O' Green! Sure, and it's foin die we'll be han today it is indeed and such a wonder of a die to speak well of St. Patrick - that eminent Scotsman who did so much to help the poor , downtrodden, pathetically pagan Irish people!" 'Twas my use of the term "Scotsman", think which triggered a verbal invitation for me to without delay; leave post haste, and straightaway to go to the lowest and hottest levels of Mr. Dante's infernal abode described so well in his more dramatic works. In truth, however, it fact that Patrick was not an Irishman. He was from Scotland where his father was a "priest" of a pagan society. Patrick was captured by mauraders working the Scottish coast and sold into slavery in Ireland. He served as a sheep herder for six years. He made his way to Rome; trained in he priesthood and went to very same area here had been a slave. He did indeed. My friend and co-worker John Green, now departed, liked Patrick I think, because his very name means "honesty." A.L.M. March 14, 2006 [c445wds]
Monday, March 13, 2006
MILO WHO? Were you one of the many American citizens who, upon hearing just this week that someone called "Milosevic" had died in his prison cell this week. Did you, for the moment, hard put to recall exactly who, what, when, where and why that strange name should register in your memory? Did he wear a black hat? An enemy? A foe? Or, was he on our side? The news item said "he died in his prison cell" so, we concluded he must have been a "bad guy". There is a button on the keyboard of our memories which enables us to, at will, erase or, at least conceal for a time, any unpleasant incident which may well have taken place but which might want to be able to recall if such a need became pressing. Milosevic, who's first named flowed along just as evenly as "Slobodan" He was called "a Serbian leader" - title which was bandied about rather loosely during the time of our 1995 era "Balkan Wars" . There now, the memory of Kosovo and other tragic sites come flooding back in your memory, right? I had a "reserved seat" during those puzzling times, because I talked at least once a week with a friend who was native born to one of the islands off the west coast of Croatia. I soon found that it was her opinion that Milosevic was a man who had been a Communist, who became a Yugoslavian Nationalist and used force to try keep that nation together. In sequence he lost: Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia-Herzegovina and Kosovo. Then, posing as a Serbian Nationalist his actions revealed his true colors as an "Opportunist." Then, he became the man he had always been. Being uneasy and and testy in the presence of fakes and pretenders - even editorially - a nickname,by shortening his real first name - which I told you was Slobodan. From that point on, he became "The Slob" to me. In truth, aside from his fixations, he was capable in many ways and unbelievably conniving and convincing as diplomats by the dozen will agree. He was an uncompromising opportunist not unlike Mobutu in Zaire and Ferdinand Marcos in The Philippines. A.L.M March 13, 2006 [c379wds]
Sunday, March 12, 2006
OLD NEWSPAPERS We seldom think of our local newspapers as being old. After all, many of them are set in our minds as symbols of modernity. They supply us with the latest happenings in our community and others nearby; they keep us up on the latest clothing styles, household decor, cars and entertainment - show us the pathways to better living. As with other business firms, newspapers come and go. Quite often they have been "family owned and operated "family businesses. Some. Some died out with the founding families, or the name was sold to a new owner and changes were made in what it tried to do. Today's paper may resemble the original publication only in a vague and general sense. The news content was meager and consisted almost entirely of quotes from foreign papers which made it a common thing that events described had, possibly, happened weeks and even months before. The news could not be current and I think it must have been a terrible task for people concerned about their relatives in Europe and elsewhere. Crew members of the visiting ships may well have been sources of the very latest news, hear-say, rumor and sadly enough, much mis-information. Occasionally. the printers who "edited" such papers - those who retained a sense of humor in such times - included a witticism, a poem, puzzle even a story now and then from one of the seafaring persons. Gradually, many papers came take on a certain verve which fitted them to the occupational emphasis of their area. We sometimes overlook, or delay admitting that there were relatively few people in the early days who could read or write. The newspapers were read aloud in public places and copies posted at much-attended sites for "slow readers." We can, today, trace the growth of the American newspaper following the path of educational improvements. The newspaper often spearheaded advanced of the nation into new areas of both thought and action. I have written material used in older papers; I have written for papers newly born and there are, indeed, subtle differences. In writing editorial opinion for an older paper one reflect upon what has been said before and why. In writing of the new sheet I have more freedom, but, oddly enough, a heavier weight of responsibility. It is disquieting to witness the gradual demise of many newspapers in recent years. Many are showing great promise in their electronic affiliations. The editor of Australia's oldest newspaper - The Sydney "Morning Herald", April 1831, wrote in the paper's 50,000th edition: "The newspaper is the first draft of history and the last word on current affairs." A.L.M. March 12, 2006 [c454wds]
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