Guess What I'm Thinking

by Pa Rock
Old Fart

Yesterday I received my annual car tags dun from the state of Arizona.   Actually, if a certain Arizona car dealership had any sense of honor, I would not have received the aforementioned dun for another year.   But when I purchased the automobile last year part of our purchase agreement was that they would tag it.  I had been away from Arizona for a couple of years and had forgotten that cars here can be tagged for two years – an oversight that the slick salesman took advantage of.    He also delivered the car without floor mats or a remote key – along with only one standard key.

My only other clear memory of the car salesman on that scorchingly hot August afternoon was that he was free and easy with the Jesus talk.    I’m sure there is a special room in Hell for car salesmen, but those who have practiced their craft in Arizona will probably enter it with a sigh of relief.

But back to the tag renewal story:  I managed to get the state mandatory emissions testing after work yesterday and still make it to  the office where the tag renewals take place.  Both are conveniently located within a few miles of where I work.  When confronted by the one-year-or-two question by the clerk in the licensing office, I chose the one-year option. 

Can you guess by that bold move what lifestyle change I am contemplating in the next year?   I’m beginning to burn a few bridges!

My First Concert

by Pa Rock

Reminiscer

I heard a commentator on National Public Radio today who was talking about personal firsts that most people experience during their lives.  He rolled off two or three (things like first love and first kiss) and then threw “first concert” onto his list.  That led me to think about the first time I ever attended a concert.

Growing up in very rural southwest Missouri in a town so small that the residents regarded Joplin as a metropolis, I did not experience any concerts until I got to college.  But I had only been at Southwest Missouri State College in Springfield a few days when the first big concert of the semester (fall, 1966) came to campus.  The group was a pop band called Gary Lewis and the Playboys.

Gary Lewis, the drummer and vocalist, was (still is) the son of comedian Jerry Lewis.  The band came into existence in 1965 and survived for a few years during the British music “invasion,” as a homegrown American band.  Their first big single was “This Diamond Ring,” and the band went on to score seven additional Gold Records during the few years that they were in existence.

Seeing Gary Lewis and the Playboys was a big deal for this young country clodhopper.  They had appeared on The Ed Sullivan Show which meant that they were the real-deal rock and roll band.  I believe the price of admission was two dollars, but it might have been as much as five dollars.  

(Concerts started to get outrageously high in the late 1970's and early 1980's when I was at the same school taking graduate courses.  Singer Kenny Rogers came to campus and tickets for his show were an extremely pricey $15.00 each!  I saved my money and skipped that one!   Years later - no regrets.)

The Gary Lewis and the Playboys concert was held in a physical education facility that seated 5,000.  The building was called simply “the Field House,” back in the day, but now it is known as McDonald Arena.  In addition to learning to square dance and lift weights (thank you Coach Jim Mentis) in the Field House, I also attended several other concerts there over the years.  Some that come to mind are the Buckinghams, New Orleans jazz trumpeter Al Hirt, and folksinger Glenn Yarbrough.  (It was Yarbrough who introduced me to the poetry of Rod McKuen, a poet who was very popular among college students in the 1960’s.)

The Field House, a WPA project from the 1930’s, was also where the Southwest Missouri State Bears played basketball.    As an ROTC Pershing Rifle, I often volunteered to earn merits by ushering at those games.   The building was centrally located on the campus, and the roar from its concerts and games could be heard for blocks around.

College was an exciting place to be in the 1960’s, and the concerts and games were important components of that excitement.  So were the parties.

Monday's Poetry: "Ten Cents a Dance"

by Pa Rock
Poetry Appreciator

F. Scott Fitzgerald once referred to lyricist Lorenz Hart as "America's Poet Laureate."  And Hart, a long time partner of composer Richard Rodgers, did create come truly beautiful song lyrics in his time.   Some of Hart's songs have gone on to become classics and favorites of jazz singers such as the clever and witty "The Lady Is a Tramp," and the romantic "Bewitched" (Bothered and Bewildered).  Others, while still beautiful in their own right, have slipped into relative obscurity.

The following is one of those songs that has just sort of faded away.  "A Dime a Dance" is a sweet, yet sad, little refrain told from the point of view of a dancer who partners with strangers on the dance floor for a dime a dance.  It was written in 1930, shortly after the Wall Street crash and when America was just beginning to adjust to hard times.  The song originally aired in a Broadway musical, "Simple Simon," and was sung by Ruth Etting.  It has preserved a colorful bit of the history of tough times in America.


Ten Cents a Dance
by Lorenz Hart


I work at the palace ballroom
But gee, that palace is cheap
When I get back to my chilly hallroom
I'm much too tired to sleep


I'm one of those lady teachers
A beautiful hostess you know
One that the palace features
At exactly a dime a throw

Ten cents a dance
That's what they pay me
Gosh, how they weigh me down
Ten cents a dance
Pansies and rough guys
Tough guys who tear my gown

Seven to midnight I hear drums
Loudly the saxophone blows
Trumpets are tearing my ear drums
Customers crush my toes

Sometimes I think, I've found my hero
But it's a queer romance
All that you need is a ticket
Come on, big boy
Ten cents a dance

Fighters and sailors and bow-legged tailors
Can pay for their tickets and rent me
Butchers and barbers and rats from the harbors
Are sweethearts my good luck has sent me

Though I've a chorus of elderly bows
Stockings are porous with holes at the toes
I'm here till closing time
Dance and be merry, it's only a dime

Sometimes I think, I've found my hero
But it's a queer romance
All that you need is a ticket
Come on, come on big boy
Ten cents a dance

Sinkhole de Mayo

by Pa Rock
Film Fan

Father's Day appears to be a biggie for going to the movies.  I drove to the local multiplex this afternoon, a run down facility that never does much business and will certainly be closed before the next Father's Day rolls around.  To my amazement, however, the place was packed today.  There are several movies currently playing that are being talked about, which probably accounts for a good percentage of those who got out in this god-awful heat to go to a movie - and, it was Father's Day, a great opportunity to take Dad to the movies.

The movie that I chose to see, This Is the End, was a raunchy comedy about a group of young actors at a party when the apocalypse begins.  All of the stars of this film played themselves - and the party was at what was purported to be James Franco's house.   The ensuing party and apocalypse contained lots of sight gags and clever verbiage.      The end of days depicted in the film was based loosely on the Book of Revelations.  Sinkholes opened up with served as conduits to the fiery bowels of Hell, and righteous souls were lifted to Heaven by columns of blue light.

As the mayhem begins, people at Franco's party rush out into the yard where some are plunged into Hell (sorry, Michael Cera) while others are sucked up to Heaven.  But for some reason, six of the men were left to fend for themselves among the carnage and havoc.  James Franco and his buddies - Seth Rogen, Jonah Hill, Jay Baruchel, Danny McBride, and Craig Robinson - boarded themselves into Franco's palatial home where they hunkered down until they started driving each other mad and running out of supplies.  And that's basically the plot.

There were cameo appearances by Rihanna and Paul Rudd, and hysterical brief appearances by Michael Cera, Emma Watson, and Channing Tatum.

This Is the End is a very funny movie, but not one for the whole family.  In fact, I would be uncomfortable even watching it with my adult children.  But that's just me.   The movie was long on laughs and short on plot.  It was worth the price of admission - just.

Happy Father's Day!

Saturday Flies By

by Pa Rock
Harried Typist

It's always nice to know that no matter how busy the week has been, a weekend is coming that will allow time to refresh and regroup.  Sadly, today was not one of those Saturdays that brought much in the way of regeneration.

I began the day working on a writing project (something other than the Ramble) which I have been pursuing for a couple of months now.  It is s unique activity that is giving me a great deal of pleasure.  Every couple of weeks I send it off to my son, Tim, a professional writer, who critiques it much like a college professor would, and he sends it back marked up and ready for more work.

That fun writing time was followed by a very long afternoon at a meeting in which I was one of many presenters.  (Work on a Saturday - how appalling!)  This evening I watered the yard - a two-hour process, took an extra lap on my regular health-walk (in 105 degree weather), made some necessary phone calls, worked on my jigsaw puzzle of Chichen Itza, and was finally able to relax and watch my four Saturday night British comedies on Public Television:  Keeping Up Appearances, As Time Goes By, Last of the Summer Wine, and Are You Being Served?

It was a long day, and I am very tired.  Somehow I feel like I lost half of my weekend!   And yes, I will have some cheese and crackers with that whine!

Great Expectations for Ethan Hawke

by Pa Rock
Film Fan

Ethan Hawke has been performing as an actor, both on stage and in film, for more than a quarter of a century, yet the veteran actor still looks like an adolescent who is contemplating a bit of mischief.  I am not an expert on his work, and have actually seen him in only a couple of movies – but those were poignant enough to convince me that he is an exceptional talent.

My first exposure to the still relatively young actor, when I was actually aware of who he was, occurred last winter when he did a walking analysis of Macbeth for the PBS series, Shakespeare Uncovered.  That appearance showed Hawke to be as comfortable walking the night streets of New York City as he was strolling through the actors during a serious rehearsal of one of the works of the Bard.  It was obvious that there was more to the actor than just a handsome face and the ability to memorize lines.

This week, while channel surfing, I came across an outstanding movie that showcased the talents of Mr. Hawke.  The 1998 film, Great Expectations, was based on the novel of Charles Dickens and starred Ethan Hawke and Gwyneth Paltrow.   Having just reread the Dickens’ novel last fall for the first time in forty years or so, I had a strong desire to see how it played out on film.   With Hawke and Paltrow in the leads – along with some other huge names like Ann Bancroft, Robert De Niro, and Hank Azaria – I had a good amount of certainty that I was in for a treat – and I was not disappointed.

The 1998 version lifted the tale out of England in the 19^th century and placed the characters in a small fishing town on the Florida Gulf Coast – in the late 20^th century.   Hawke played the Pip character, named “Finn” for this adaptation, and Paltrow was the lifelong love who always remained just beyond his grasp.    Finn, as a young adult, fell under the patronage of a mysterious unknown who financed his life as a less-than-struggling artist in New York City. 

The story, with few exceptions, was so flawlessly adapted for the screen that it could have almost come straight from the pen of Charles Dickens.   It was faithful to the novel to the point that I suspect Dickens himself would have been pleased with the end product.

If Ethan Hawke immerses himself in all of his work the way he does with regard to the writings of William Shakespeare and Charles Dickens, he can expect to be a man of great expectations and an actor of consequence for years to come.

Johnny Cash Goes Postal - Without June

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

The Untied States Postal Service issued a new “forever” stamp on June 5^th commemorating country music legend Johnny Cash.    It was unveiled in front of a host of country stars at the old Ryman Theatre in Nashville, the place where the Grand Ole Opry originated for decades.  The stamp features a 1963 black-and-white photo of Cash set on a black background.   For those few of us who still use the U.S. Postal Service, the stamp will definitely add a touch of class to those monthly bills.

While I value the music of Johnny Cash as much as the next guy – and  more than many -  I found it odd that “the man in black” was honored by the Postal Service as a single when he was so well known for his musical collaborations and performances with his second wife, June Carter Cash.

June Carter was entertaining American audiences with her parents and sisters (as the Carter Family) when she was only a child – at a time Johnny Cash was still picking cotton in Arkansas.  She was a star of the Grand Ole Opry years before Johnny ever found his way out of the Nashville bus terminal.

June was the consummate entertainer – a fiddle-playing singer, comedienne, and actress - who could hold a show together under the worst of circumstances.  Some of those difficult performances were highlighted in the 2005 film, Walk the Line, starring Joaquin Phoenix and Reese Witherspoon as the young entertainers and lovers.  Another real life incident of June stepping in to save the show is chronicled in this blog when I described a live show that I saw in Springfield, Missouri, in the 1960’s where June had to step in and hold a show together after bad weather pre-empted an appearance by Johnny.  That piece ran on November 12, 2007, when the Ramble was just a few days old.

Did Johnny Cash earn the right to be honored on a U.S. postage stamp?  Damned right, he did – but so did the irrepressible June Carter Cash.  She was definitely the woman behind the man, the one who sobered him up and pushed him to the heights of country music.  Since the Postal Service didn’t see fit to put her on a stamp with Johnny, they need to accord June Carter Cash the honor of being placed on her own stamp. 

And after that oversight is corrected, it would not be out of place to produce a stamp honoring the Carter family as well.  They truly were an American musical institution.

LBJ and the Stella School

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Stella, Missouri, is a small farming community in southern Newton County that had an unexpected brush with the national civil rights movement in 1960.  At that time the town had a population of less than two hundred.

The Stella School (grades 6-12) burned to the ground in a flash fire on January 15, 1959.  I was in fifth grade in a small town approximately thirty miles from Stella when the fire occurred, and I remember hearing about it in the local media.  The school encompassed a large farming area, and the student population was approximately twice that of the town when the fire occurred. 

A recently abandoned Army base, Fort Crowder, was located just north of Stella, and military officials offered to loan the school district the fort’s three-story brick officer’s club for a temporary school at a “nominal” fee.   The district accepted the offer, probably assuming that “nominal” meant a dollar.  But when the bill came due the Army wanted just over $1,500 for three months or $6,000 for a year.  District officials were outraged at the greed of the Army, and they petitioned their representative in Congress, Charlie Brown (really!), to write a bill excusing the district from having to pay the debt.

Congressman Brown got his legislation through the House of Representatives, but when it reached the floor of the Senate, Majority Leader Lyndon Johnson chose to attach several amendments to that particular bill dealing with civil rights in the United States.    Johnson couldn’t get his civil rights legislation voted out of committee, so he used the Stella School Bill to bring the debate on civil rights to the floor of the Senate.

Some in the all-white community were less than pleased at that turn of events.  Mayor Orville Pogue suggested that a new bill needed to be written so that their small request would not be held hostage to the bigger debate on civil rights.  Superintendent Don Parsons was quick to point out that there were no “Negroes” in the Stella School District.

The district wound up paying the army $1,500 for the use of its abandoned officer’s club on Fort Crowder.  Three years later, when the building housing Stella’s first and second grades burned, the Army again offered the use of one of its buildings for a “nominal” fee – and offer the district quickly declined until the new congressman, Durward Hall, got the fee eliminated.

Years later I had a professor in college who said that the Civil Rights Act of 1964 came to the floor of the Senate as an amendment to the Stella School Bill.  That does not appear to be the case, but undoubtedly some of the meat of the bill probably first made its way into Senate debate as a result of the citizens of Stella, Missouri, trying to keep from paying their debt to the Army.

Related Trivia: 

Fort Crowder was, during World War II, the largest inland base in America (at least according to my mother).  One of its more famous alums was comedian Dick Van Dyke who often referenced Fort Crowder on his television show in the 1960’s.

The town of Stella used to have a forty-seven bed hospital that was owned by a married couple of doctors who last name was Fountain.  I was a patient there for a few days in the fall of 1965 after a motor scooter accident on a gravel road.   Unfortunately, that hospital stay caused me to miss Homecoming and my senior trip to Tulsa.  One of the get well gifts from my classmates was an issue of Playboy Magazine.  That was risqué back in the day!  The last time I was through Stella, maybe a decade ago, that little hospital had morphed into a nursing home.