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Jerry Seinfeld turns 65 this week and I thought it a good time to share some of my personal experiences with the famed comedian. This excerpt is from my coming media memoir “Raised on the Radio”.  The time was 1987 and I was producing the Larry Lujack afternoon show at AM 890 WLS.  Larry liked comics who were clever and insightful and was happy to welcome Seinfeld to his show.    

Book Excerpt-

Jerry Seinfeld was and still is one of my very favorite comedians. We had him in the studio and while at the time being known for his successful stand-up visits to “The Tonight Show” and “Late Night with David Letterman”, this was before his sitcom happened and became one of the most successful shows in network TV history. For the record, I was an early fan of “The Seinfeld Chronicles” which debuted in 1989 then became “Seinfeld.”

Here’s an understatement: Comedians are a quirky bunch. Insecure, sometimes extra loud then quiet, often guarded, you name it.  Many are messed up head cases that blow out their angst on the comedy stage. In all my years in radio the two most normal acting comics I met were Jerry Seinfeld and Jeff Foxworthy. Nobody else even came close.

 While some jokesters hold back, trying to save funny material for their concerts, Seinfeld was all up for sharing his wit freely on the air. He wondered why there were referees in pro wrestling when these brutes can hit each other with chairs and such.  “O.K., says the ref, you can bring that tank in the ring but watch it.”  Seinfeld also yakked about going scuba diving where your only goal is to not die.  For some reason Jerry was equipped with an underwater wallet “In case you run into a sea turtle that can break a fifty dollar bill.”  When I recorded Seinfeld’s post-show promo, he accidentally-on purpose referred to Larry Lujack as “Larry Lube Job” then corrected himself saying Larry was the “afternoon grease” on WLS.     

What impressed me about Jerry Seinfeld was his self awareness. This guy was so locked in on what he was doing.  He has often been called a sharply tuned wordsmith and it’s true. Everything in his stand-up act is precise, no mistakes.  I always pegged the guy for large scale greatness and Seinfeld’s long career proved my initial assessment correct.

After moving on from WLS, I also booked Seinfeld on other radio shows I produced and he was always a money-in-the-bank guest.  For each guest shot Jerry did, he’d have fresh new observations and comments, all of them comedy gold works. I also saw him perform his full stand-up comedy concert act several times and again each show was a great night of laughs.

Getting back to the “Seinfeld” sitcom, some of you may have heard about earlier this year when millennials were whining about how wrong on un-PC some of that show’s plots were.  They cited things like the mocking of a pig nosed mental patient or when George Costanza was busted for staring at the cleavage of a network TV executive’s teenage daughter.  There was even fretting about calling the snippy soup chef ‘The Soup Nazi.’  Really? Are we that fragile now?

I have two answers for the overly sensitive young-ins.

Answer number 1. On almost every Seinfeld episode, when Jerry or any of his pals committed a touchy misdeed, they almost always suffered a consequence.  When George Costanza parked his dad’s car in a handicapped parking space, an angry mob trashed the car to bits. When George got busted for boob peeping he and Jerry lost their sitcom bid with NBC. Even on the series ending episode when the Seinfeld crew laughed at a fat man being mugged, they ended up getting jailed for not helping the guy out. So for every un-PC action the show’s characters did, there was an equal and justified reaction.

Answer number 2 to these delicate wispy millennials can be summed up in three words: GROW A PAIR!

These days Seinfeld still does the stand-up comedy concerts (I don’t ever see him retiring from that) and his “Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee” continues to be an entertaining and insightful ride with fellow comics.  I really enjoy seeing when a fellow jokester makes Jerry laugh heartily, just to see what kind of lines get him rolling. 

So happy birthday to the ultimate wordsmith Jerry Seinfeld and here’s to more years of quirky yet on target observations from you and laughs for us.

NEXT WEEK- You Might Be A Lousy Mother If:____________.

It’s Secretary’s Week or as it is now called “Administrative Professional’s Day.”  Are we really that much in need of the new moniker?  For 20 years I worked in radio and now in education. In both careers I witnessed firsthand the multi-faceted load secretaries carry to keep an office operation humming along at peak efficiency.    It’s a tough job that is too often overlooked and under-appreciated.  So in tribute to all the women and men who answer phones, take messages, sign for deliveries, order supplies and keep businesses afloat by covering all the details and issues nobody else seems to be able to, I offer a rundown of my favorite actresses and actors playing fictional secretaries from the movies and television.

“9 to 5” is the iconic office movie and Dolly Parton’s role was both funny and poignant in her handling the creepy advances of her boss played by Dabney Coleman.  I especially liked how she threatened to use her gun and turn him from a rooster to a hen with one shot.

Smarts, tolerance and smoldering sexuality were part and parcel with the late Lois Maxwell as she portrayed M’s secretary Miss Moneypenny in numerous James Bond movies.  While Moneypenny and 007 were never seen doing the hibbity dibbity, their flirtatious relationship was a fun one to witness.  

In real life I’ve seen how many different tasks school secretaries have to handle every weekday. However in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Edie Mc Clurg’s semi-ditzy character of Grace was singularly focused on keeping Principal Ed Rooney on track. And she had a smart place to stash her extra pencils.

One of the more endearing secretaries from 70’s TV was Carol Kessler on The Bob Newhart Show.  Marcia Wallace played the role with wit, friendly sass and a show of real life honesty that everyday women could identify with. Carol Kessler wasn’t a ball buster but still took no guff from Bob or the other doctors on the floor of their medical building.  When secretary Kessler got married I thought it was sweet how her adoring husband called her “Big Red.”

Here’s one for the Female Empowerment, on WKRP in Cincinnati the highest paid employee was not any of the disc-jockeys, sales executives or even station owner Arthur ‘Big Guy’ Carlson.  No, it was station secretary, Jennifer Marlowe played by blonde bombshell Loni Anderson.  Like most good secretaries Jennifer had all the answers before there were any questions and deftly warded off any untoward advances with timely humor and smarts.

The late Nancy Culp played Jane Hathaway who endured the misery of having Milburn Drysdale as her boss on The Beverly Hillbillies.  Her unusual voice and common sense approach to the job made Miss Hathaway a rarity on a show with happily clueless characters.  It often appeared she wanted to jump Jethro Bodine’s bones but that love connection never happened.

Carol Burnett’s role as Mrs. Wiggins on her variety show may have been a one dimensional dimwit in a tight pencil skirt but she and Mr. Tudball played by Tim Conway cracked me up every time they did a sketch.

Secretaries don’t have to be women. The Simpsons show us this as loyal Waylon Smithers continues to serve the every whim and wish of Springfield Nuclear plant owner Montgomery Burns.  The gay Smithers voiced by Harry Shearer, would like nothing more than to be Mr. Burns’ lover but I don’t think Burns feels the same way.

In the mid 90’s The Larry Sanders Show brought us gay Brian (played by Scott Thompson). Brian served as secretary and personal assistant to Hank Kingsley and proved to be an able replacement for Hank’s previous admin helper, the sexy dimwit Darlene, played by Linda Doucett.

Mad Men’s Secretarial Pool.

I saved my favorite secretaries for last.  “Mad Men” brought us Peggy Olsen (played by Elizabeth Moss) who worked her way from mousy secretary to copy writer to major power playing account executive.  Peggy was a glass ceiling buster of the best kind showing loyalty to the company without losing focus on her own career.

There was also elderly Miss Blankenship (played by Randee Heller) who was brought out of retirement’s mothballs to be Don Draper’s temporary secretary.  Years before, Miss Blankenship was boss Bert Cooper’s paramour and in the end she gave her life for the Sterling, Cooper, Draper Pryce Ad Agency.

And we wrap things up with my very favorite secretary,  the lovely Joan Holloway played by buxom redhead Christina Hendricks.  Joan was the queen bee secretary and office manager at Sterling-Cooper-Draper-Pryce. She used smarts and sexuality to gradually advance her career. From an on and off again romance with Roger Sterling to sleeping with a Jaguar dealership executive to earn part ownership of the ad agency, Joan knew the balance between giving in to lusting men’s whims and helping herself to what she could get. She was always more in tune with what was happening than anyone else in the room and knew just when and where to use that knowledge.  The show’s leading lothario Don Draper never danced the dirty hula with Joan but had they done so, it would have merited a week’s worth of gossip around the water cooler.

So to all the secretaries, administrative assistants/professionals out there, thank you for all the hard work you put in and have a great week! 

NEXT WEEK- Honoring the birthday of an American wordsmith.

Putting aside last weekend’s weird snowstorm, the warmer weather is coming to our part of the country.  So with the higher temperatures and longer sunny days come changes in how we dress.  However, there are issues I have regarding the way men and women change their apparel come the spring and summer.  To put it bluntly, I have my own set rules. Without rules there is chaos so here are my directives for the warm months ahead.

Don’t Paint It Black-

My first rule is actually a year round guideline for women.  Ladies, it is time to ditch the black polish for your fingernail and toenails for good. That color used to be a thing exclusively for those into the Goth look. However now everywhere I go and even on TV I see the fairer sex proudly sporting the black colored nails.  In my world the only people allowed to sport black nail polish are Lily Munster, Morticia Addams, Elvira Mistress of the Dark, Alice Cooper and Marilyn Manson. For everyone else I can accept any other color on the palette spectrum, just not black.  Those black nails have a lazy and dirty look to them.  It’s just not right.   And if anyone woman needs more convincing to lose the black paint, do you know who else has black nails?  Dogs, bears and squirrels.  Nuff said.

Put some socks on it-

Here’s a warm weather rule for the men.  Wearing loafers or dress shoes without socks is the absolute height of douche-baggery! (Save for so called ‘Man-buns)  All you’re doing is telling the world, “I have 160 dollars to blow on shoes that I can mess up with my hot smelly bare feet.”  Keep in mind women are exempt from this directive because they always walk around sockless in their many pairs of shoes; so they’re grandfathered or grandmothered in.

Put a Cap on it–

Another message for my fellow men; The day you turn 25 is also the day you have to stop wearing your baseball cap backwards.  You’re no longer some teen little leaguer, paperboy or college fraternity brother. You’re a real adult so keep your baseball cap perched on your coconut the proper way, with the bill of the cap in the front.  Sometimes I see guys with the backward caps and their sunglasses perched on top of their head as they squint into the sun!  Wake up men and wear your cap the correct way. Women are exempt from this cap rule because they look cute no matter how they wear their hats.

Stylish but Clueless Wannabes– 

Often online or in magazines I see photos of famous men and women wearing vintage rock T-shirts of bands and singers who were at their peak of popularity years before these stars were born. Even locally I’ll see some twenty something man or woman walking around in a 1970’s era Aerosmith or Eagles T-shirt. It makes me wonder, what the hell do they know about bands who were happening decades before they were born?  I’m betting they’re wearing that Doors or Led Zeppelin T-shirt because they know it’s the hip and trendy thing to so.  My rule is if you want to buy a vintage rock t-shirt, you must first be able to name at least 5 songs from that group or artist’s music catalog.  And if someone on the street asks you to name those songs and you can’t? Then that shirt gets pulled from your torso and is given to someone more deserving of such vintage wear.

In the news-

With the warmer weather here I’m seeing female TV news anchors (local and national) breaking out their sleeveless tops and dresses. Call me an ‘Old School’ fool but the summery tops these news readers wear just don’t look professional.  The men on camera are always wearing suits and ties or at least shirts and ties.  However, the ladies are allowed to deliver the latest headlines dressed like they’re at the beach or sipping cocktails at a trendy rooftop bar in Manhattan. To be clear, I’m not saying these women should be covered up in ugly polyester blazers with a network logo patch sewn on it. Still if I were a TV news boss I would ban the spaghetti strap and sleeveless tops and dresses for on camera news delivery. We get it girls, you’ve been toning up your guns and shoulders with Sven, your personal trainer at L.A. fitness. Nevertheless, save showing off those toned limbs for your weekend pool parties and summer barbecues.  And as much as I enjoy her work on CNN, Brooke Baldwin, this means you too!

Cover Up Your Buttercup-

Because they dress appropriately this final rule doesn’t apply to the fine women who frequent my local pool (East End) in Elmhurst. However it does apply to ladies at city beaches and ESPECIALLY celebrities.  Please lose the barely there butt floss bikini bottoms. I’m no prude yet it’s still more enticing to conceal than reveal.  Ninety-nine percent of the world does not want to see ninety-nine percent of your ass.  First off, the ‘Sun’s out buns out’ thongs look super uncomfortable. Second, once you’ve seen one set of cheeks you’re pretty much seen em all.  And third, sporting those thongs is a sign of desperation.  You’re trying too hard, so for the love of my rules, please do a better job of covering up the fleshy guard rails to your turd cutters.    

If everyone understood and followed these simple rules, we could all enjoy the warm weather months without me gritting my teeth, shaking my head and mumbling complaints under my breath.  Ithankyouforyourtime.

NEXT WEEK- CELEBRATING SECRETARIES.

Anyone who knows me knows that one of my passions has always been movies. Old ones, new ones, anything on a screen I’m up for checking out.  Growing up, my family instilled this love into me and going to the cinema to see first runs of everything from James Bond flicks to “The Godfather”, “Deliverance” and “The Exorcist” is a memory I’ll always hold dear.  I still love going to the movies and that will never change. So let’s get the cameras rolling along with my current thoughts on the world of film.

SPOILER ALERTS– Plain and simple, movie previews or trailers as they’re now called show too much of a yet to be released feature.  Too often the bulk of the best jokes, sight gags and plot twists of a coming movie are shown in the preview.  Then when we go see the film in its entirety there’s little new or special to see and enjoy. Movies are literally being spoiled with key parts being over exposed. It wasn’t always done this way. The ruining of movies by showing too much in a trailer has been growing over the years.  I was once quoted in Entertainment Weekly’s letters to the editor stating if “The Empire Strikes Back” came out today the preview would spoil the fact that Darth Vader was Luke Skywalker’s father.  I know movie companies have to put asses in the theater seats but they’re dumbing down the film experience by spilling out too much of a new flick before we ever see it.  It’s like being shown most of the presents you’ll be getting for Christmas BEFORE Christmas day.  I do like seeing movie previews to get a grasp of things I may want to eventually check out but we’re all being shown too much.    

ANOTHER VOYAGE IS NEEDED– Many old or not even that old of movies get re-made for a new generation who never experienced the original. Off the top of my head “Robocop”, “Flatliners” and “Total Recall” were recently re-done for people who were not alive in the early 90’s.  More often than not the newer versions pale in comparison to their starter counterparts and don’t do well at the box office.

However my longtime friend Jim Turano came up with a movie from way, way back that SHOULD be re-done.  Jim said he’d like to see a new production of 1966’s sci-fi adventure “Fantastic Voyage.”  Remember that movie? A submarine crew is shrunk to microscopic size to travel in a vessel through the body of a scientist to repair brain damage he suffered in an assassination attempt.  “Fantastic Voyage” has not aged well but today’s CGI effects could make that same trip through the human body a really cool experience.  We’ve seen numerous incarnations of King Kong, Godzilla and Spiderman, so why not a journey to the center of the mind with a shrunk down crew of people?

MOVIES & MUSIC – For those who never saw her in “American Horror Story,” last year’s remake of “A Star is Born” proved  Lady Gaga can act. She delivered the goods as newly minted singing star Ally but I have another casting idea for her. I’d like to see Lady Gaga star in a biopic of Wendy O. Williams, the former lead singer of the Plasmatics, a 1980’s punk rock band.  Like Gaga herself, Wendy Williams was an outrageous visual and musical presence. Williams used to appear onstage with just electrical tape covering her nipples and was a wild yet tragic character both on and off the stage.  Lady Gaga as Wendy O. Williams could be a major home run at the movies.    

Fans like me who love The Who keep wondering when the long talked about story of drummer Keith Moon will make it to the big screen.  Lead singer Roger Daltrey is trying to make it happen and late last year he was still working on finding the right actor to portray his late band mate.  With the success of “Bohemian Rhapsody” and Elton John’s story in “Rocket Man’ coming out this May, there’s plenty of market for stories about iconic musicians.

On the country music scene there’s often been talk of a biopic covering the short but vital life of Keith Whitley who died in 1989.  I’d like to see the story made and in turn a whole new generation would be exposed to Whitley’s great voice and music.

What about a film on the life of 1960’s singer Bobby Fuller?  Most of us know Fuller’s hit “I Fought the Law” but his death remains shrouded in the the kind of mystery that could rival that of the fictional Eddie Wilson from the movie “Eddie and the Cruisers.”

Rocker Bobby Fuller had a short life and a weird death befitting a Hollywood movie.

 MUSICAL THEATER-In recent times Broadway has seen massive hits covering the times of famed singers and groups.  From “Dreamgirls” to “Jersey Boys” to the production of Carole King’s career in “Beautiful” these shows are big money makers. Now there’s a production on The Temptations called “Ain’t Too Proud to Beg.” 

These theater successes makes me think there should be a Broadway tilt done covering the long life and work of Neil Diamond. The so called ‘Jewish Elvis’ has a great story to tell from his songwriting days in Tin Pan Alley to his decades long hit making and worldwide concert performing career.  You could name Neil’s show after one of his albums and songs “Beautiful Noise” or even after his biographical song “Brooklyn Roads.”

Why not a Broadway production featuring the life story and music of Neil Diamond?

I recently caught up to the Spike Lee movie “BlacKkKlansman” which was very well done.  The true story of a black cop going undercover in the early 1970’s to expose the unlawful actions of the KKK is a wild tale.   Away from the core story, one of my favorite scenes was this one which really captured the look, sound and vibe of that time in American culture.

CLOSING SCENE- Film-goers are still buzzing about “Us”, the latest creepy movie from Jordan Peele. He’s the guy who brought us “Get Out” two years ago and also now has a new incarnation of “The Twilight Zone” on TV.  I liked “Get Out” a little more than this new offering but the young masked boy in “Us” did make my skin crawl anytime he scampered around. If you ever want to see another youngster creep you out on the screen, check out the underrated 2013 film “Stoker.”  Nicole Kidman plays a rueful mother in this tense tale but it is her daughter India played by Mia Wasikowska who will blow your mind and give you the creeps.  

NEXT WEEK’S BLOG- ‘MY WORLD, MY RULES.”

Being too young for a senior citizen boat cruise and too old for Cabo or South Padre Island, I spent my Spring Break in south central Elmhurst. Refusing to let the results of the Mueller report on Trump or the insanity of the Jussie Smollett story distract me, I occupied the time off doing the following:

Spent one day working on lessons and quizzes for the next two books my reading class will be covering. The kids will be reading Steven King’s novella “The Body” then Lois Lowery’s classic “The Giver.”  When possible, I try to have them read books that were made into movies that I can show them afterwards.

I hung out with lifelong pals to watch NCAA basketball games at Downers Grove’s “Brick House.”  (For sports watching, good beer selections and decent food, this is the place to be)

Watched Cubs and Sox regular season baseball games. (I’m a Sox fan but just want to see good baseball played)

For the first time in over a month I enjoyed a great take-out omelet, pancakes and bacon breakfast from Mr. G’s.

You know the spring is here and summer’s coming when Elmhurst’s Hamburger Heaven opens for business. I got in a lunch there.

TYou Tube is where I usually discover songs I never heard before and during my break I picked up on Matchbox 20’s “She’s So Mean”. (I’m only 7 years late on that one)

Speaking of Matchbox 20, lead singer Rob Thomas’ latest single “One Less Day” (Dying Young) is a damn good one too.

After seeing a CBS Sunday Morning feature on Brandi Carlile I got into more of her music than I knew before. By now many folks know “The Joke” but Brandi has lots of other good music.

I rehearsed my part for this month’s talent show at our school. SPOILER ALERT: My plan is to sing the first verse of “Seven Bridges Road” then roll into the Monkees’ “I’m A Believer.”

I made sure to drop by the Elmhurst Park district to buy my swim pass for the 2019 summer season.  (I’ve retired the banana hammocks but still need to get into better swimsuit shape)

(While off, I saw two movies- Jordan Peele’s new creepy offering “Us” which I graded out as a ‘B’. Peele’s “Get Out” was a bit better.  Next I saw the chick flick “Gloria Bell” starring Julianne Moore which I felt only deserved a “C.”  The script and characters were weak.

I booked a landscaper at a good price to do some much needed spring cleaning of my yard and trimming the front bushes.

The Powerball lottery lightened my wallet 20 bucks and the fact that I’m back at work tells you I did not win. 

Lastly, I started organizing miscellaneous comments, observations and jokes I’ve written over the past year.  Once tightened up, I’d like to try them out at some comedy club open mike night.  However, to do that I’m going need to grow some nerves of steel.  Good luck on that one, right?

So I kept busy and it was a good break because like anyone else who is on a vacation knows, there was no clock to answer to.  No schedule to be tied to and that in and of itself was the best part of the 9 days. 

NEXT WEEK’S BLOG– “Making a scene at the movies…”

I consider my Facebook page to be a little stage. It’s a soapbox where I can spout off a pithy little comment or observation and see what Facebook ‘friends’ have to say about my posts.

Some of what I create and post up is tied to twentieth century music in the rock, pop and country genres. Often, I’ll take a line from an old song and put it in the context of today’s world. So here are a few of my favorites from the past two years.    

Don’t accept a friend request from someone named ‘Buttercup’, she’ll build you up just to let you down.

I wish a vow taking nun would change her name to Sister Disco.

Love grows where my Rosemary goes but so do STDs.

In modern times Foreigner’s “Jukebox Hero” would be re-titled “I-Pod   Icon.” 

Harry Chapin’s song “Taxi” should be re-titled “Uber.”

Kids now get inoculated to prevent the rockin’ pneumonia & the boogie woogie flu. Jenny McCarthy protests this vaccine.    

The road to Shambala should lead to a Waffle House.

“One of these crazy old nights, we’re gonna find out pretty mama, what turns on your lights.” (I bet it’s The Clapper)

 In “Take a Letter Maria”, R.B. Greaves asking his secretary out for a dinner date would now be viewed as sexual harassment.

“I can see for miles and miles”, thanks to Lasik Surgery.

“…way past one and feeling alright, cuz with Little Willy around they can last all night.”  (Thank you Viagra)

 Nickelback’s “Rock Star” asks for a bathroom with a king sized tub big enough for 10 plus me.  (That’s gonna be a bitch to clean)

Are Cheap Trick’s ‘Dream Police’ equipped with body cameras?

“She calls me up and says baby it’s a lonely ole night.” (Sounds like somebody needs to get on Tinder)

Michael Penn sang, “What if I were Romeo in black jeans?”  (Make sure those pants are the ‘relaxed fit’ style)

Pearl Jam- Were charges filed when Jeremy bit the recess lady’s breast?  (Did he at least get an ‘in school suspension’?)

The new drug Huey Lewis wants, does it cause oily discharge?

NEXT WEEK’S BLOG- Highlights from my Spring Break.

St. Patrick’s Day is over.  Amen. I’m sure plenty of revelers started drinking on Friday and kept partying on through Sunday night.  Erin go Bragh, and all that stuff.  Yeah, I’m not a fan of the Irish boozing festival.  Too many goofs see St. Patrick’s Day as a built in excuse to get piss drunk. Jerry Seinfeld used to say how he didn’t like being around drunks because they’re always telling you how much they love you or hate you and he didn’t want to hear either of those things. Me neither.

Not that I’m trying to ruin anyone’s good time, but my heavy or even moderately strong drinking days have been in the rearview mirror for a long time.  I can’t recall a time since 2000 when I was even giddily buzzed, let alone bombed out drunk.  It’s not that I’m some high and mighty Puritan, I just don’t see the value in ruining a whole day or longer nursing a hangover after a night of too many cocktails.

When I get together with friends for fellowship, I keep it to a 2 drink total, 3 if it’s a longer hang.   In between each alcohol serving I’ll have a diet Coke or a glass of ice water with a twist of lime.  As far as drinks of choice, I go with bottled beer, Rolling Rock or a Shiner Bock do just fine by me.

Still, the carousing others do on St. Patrick’s Day reminds me of the days when I used to howl at the moon with the drinking. The first boozing I did was at age 14.  My sister Mary Ann was four years older than I and she introduced me and my friends to ‘Slow Screws’ which was Sloe gin mixed with orange juice.  That cocktail had a sweet and easy taste which made them fun to get an occasional buzz on. 

When I was in high school, the legal drinking age for beer and wine in Illinois was nineteen and to drink hard liquor you had to be twenty one.  My friends and I kicked into weekend beer hoisting at the start of junior year in high school.  Some of us, me included, were shaving fairly regularly so it was easy to look nineteen and buy suds at liquor stores in neighboring towns. We did that because the alcohol sellers in my hometown of Elmhurst always demanded to see an I.D. We rarely got into the hard booze.  A few cans of Old Style or Olympia beer were the norms for us.

 My parents had a liberal attitude towards alcohol. They told me to call them if I was ever too liquored up to drive, get a ride home from someone sober or just stay over where I was until the morning. By age seventeen they allowed me and my friends to drink at our house. My mom would fill us up with snacks and keep an eye out to make sure nobody went too nuts with the malt pops. The logic from my folks was, “He should learn how to handle drinking and if it happens under our roof, so much the better.”  And yes, there were a couple of times when I had to bunk at a friend’s house due to being over-served. I also hosted buzzed pals at my house for the same reason.  One piss drunk buddy filled up half a laundry sink with beer and pizza puke then passed out on my cold basement floor. His head was resting against our cat’s litter box.  Hey, we were young and stupid. O.K.?

Actually most of us York High School kids were fairly careful with the drinking after some sophomore classmates got into a horrible night time drunk driving crash.  Two blocks from my house some teens sped out of control while turning a corner and slammed a car head on into a tree. One of the crash victims almost lost his life and was laid up in the hospital for quite some time.  That was a stark wake up call to have fun but don’t be reckless.

Senior year, during our Christmas break, we had a huge beer bash in my basement and one of my teachers and his wife came by to say hey.  One guest was the daughter of the assistant director of our school district.  In our underage drinking times, things were much looser than today. If you got caught with alcohol, Elmhurst police officers usually made you pour out all your beers and if you weren’t drunk they’d send you on your way.  No arrests or police reports, no tickets, no court dates or alcohol counseling. One night my friend Todd Beja and I were directed to dump out a 12 pack of Old Style beer under the watchful eye of an Elmhurst cop who caught us with the forbidden drinks.

Some weekends, I had baseball teammates over to our house for poker and beers. One of those card games was the night before Easter my senior year. During that get together my cat Squeaks delivered a freshly killed rabbit to our back porch.  The next morning I awoke to find no basket of candy waiting for me. My first basketless Easter!  My parents thought I outgrew the whole treats thing but I hadn’t.  So I asked my mom why I didn’t get a basket full of candy.  She calmly answered, “Sorry Mick, Squeaks ate the Easter Bunny.”     Very funny mom. Maybe she had a few drinks too and forgot my basket.

College drinking for me got a bit crazy.  Two summers in a row I hosted 4^th of July parties that saw us drain 3 kegs of beer each year.  The first time I ever attended an Everclear punch party saw me literally crawling out of an elevator and to my dorm room to sleep off the effects of that drunk.  My introduction to doing whiskey shots at a party was also the first time I threw up on my shoes. Another time I wasted myself at a neighbor’s party, came home and spit up into a kitchen sink basket full of clean dishes. 

After college when I started working in Chicago morning radio, I could only drink on Friday and Saturday nights. By age 25 I started curbing my heavy alcohol intake because I didn’t like sleeping away my weekends thanks to too many pitchers of brew or mixed drinks. 

So yeah, now I’m a light drinker at best.  I do hope everyone had a nice St. Patrick’s Day weekend but am also glad I wasn’t around for any of the alcohol fueled ‘fun.’ 

I think it’s best to close off this blog with a drinking related song.   Bottom’s up!

March 11^{th 2019} would have been my father’s 84^th birthday.  He’s been gone since August of 1993 and today I offer some fond remembrances of an aces guy.

Growing up I would often ask my dad about how things were when he was my age,.I’d say, “Pop,, back in your day, what did…” and he’d stop me right there and say, “Back in MY day?  It’s STILL my day!”  We always had a good laugh on that.

My dad’s sense of humor was sly and dry and something he didn’t often share with those outside of the family.  One thing he did shared was his love for all animals.  Dad could not stand people who hunted wild critters just for sport.  He adored the dogs we had and was truly broken up when our first pooch ‘Coach’ had to be put to sleep due to age related health problems.

He was also a cat fancier and we had two kitties (Prissy & Squeaks) while he was alive.  Dad would often say, “When someone tells me they don’t like cats, right away I don’t like them.”

Movies were something we shared a long and common bond on. He took me to see many films in their first run;  “The Godfather”, “Bonnie & Clyde”, “Rocky”, “The Great Santini”, and “Deliverance”  which dad said was one of the best & worst films he ever saw.  He also introduced me to classics like “The Hustler,” “Citizen Kane” and opened my eyes to how evil Andy Griffith could be in “A Face in the Crowd.”  Late Saturday nights were reserved for watching old time monster movies on Channel 9’s “Creature Features” show.  We also saw many great and not so great monster and horror films in theaters.

I’ll NEVER forget how hard pop laughed when we watched “Caddyshack” and the infamous Baby Ruth in the pool scene happened.  The whole segment had my dad loving the potty humor and when Bill Murray took a bite out of the ‘dookie’ he exploded with louder laughs and howls!  Pop went nuts for that!

My dad was not shy about sharing any of his feelings. I remember back in 1990 when my car got rear ended and totaled in a bad crash.  My mother was in tears, beside herself that I had to deal with a trip to the E.R. (everything checked out fine) and the hassle of having to find a new car through no fault of my own. When mom shared this bad news with my dad, she told me he cried even harder.   Damn he was a good guy!

On the Friday of Memorial Day Weekend 1993, my father was diagnosed with metastatic cancer. This was discovered after he suffered a seizure in a store. The oat cell carcinoma started in his lungs and went to his brain and adrenal glands.  Up until March of 1993 my dad was a lifelong smoker and he knew that hard to quit cigarette habit is what did him in.  Still dad took on his short but fatal illness with bravery. His faith that heaven awaited him never wavered.

This next segment comes from my pending auto-biography titled “Raised on the Radio.”  A book I hope to self-publish later this year.

My pop said he wanted to accomplish more in his life but I assured him he did way better than he gave himself credit for. Dad was a dedicated and loving son who took care of his elderly mother after his father died.  He served in the U.S. Navy, met and married my mom and adopted her daughter Maryanne and fathered me.  Dad had a career he loved and supported his family with, settling us in a fantastic neighborhood in a good town.  The beauty shop he owned did well in spite of having two other salons on the same street, just a half a block from his place. 

After selling his business, my dad started a new career as a hair-styling teacher at the DAVEA vocational school which is now known as TCD. (Technology Center of DuPage) His students loved “Mr. Ken.”  He also became the loving grandfather to my sister Mary and her husband Jack’s children Doreen and Michael.  Back in the mid-eighties he surprised me by taking over my college loan re-payment schedule.  Dad didn’t want to see me saddled with any debt and had the means to knock out my owed balance quickly.  This was the kind of man my father was.  He accomplished plenty.   

After dad’s grim diagnosis of no more than six months to live, we quickly planned his memorial service before he even came home from the hospital.  Hospice care would soon come in and treat him wonderfully.   I was to write and deliver dad’s eulogy at the service.  My dad had about two good months with us at home before leaving us.

I finished writing dad’s eulogy two days before he slipped into a coma. Mary read it to him because I was a puddle of sobs and tears. Afterwards he and I had our last heart to heart talk. I’ll always be grateful that we got to share those vital moments together.

In the early morning hours of Sunday August 15^th, surrounded by his loving family, Kenneth Robert Kahler passed away peacefully at the way too young age of 58.  Smoking ended a life that should’ve gone on for another thirty years. My dad’s own mother would live to the age of ninety-five.  Mary Ann helped with the memorial service as she handled the scripture readings and shared some of her own fond memories of the only man she knew as dad. 

I wrapped up my eulogy with a quote from the liner notes on John Mellencamp’s “Scarecrow Album”; “There is nothing more sad or glorious than generations changing hands.” Those eleven words were a great comfort to me.  Then we played the Paul Overstreet song “Seeing My Father in Me” for the packed room of mourners.  The man who raised me to think so well of others, who taught me patience, how to appreciate movies and passed on his dry wit to me was now gone.  There has not been a day since when I haven’t thought of my dad and missed him very much. 

The Paul Overstreet song we played at my father’s memorial service was timely. But today I’m thinking about this wonderful dad song from Conway Twitty.

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As crazy as it sounds, I’m a fan of the TLC reality series “Dr. Pimple Popper” starring Dr. Sandra Lee.  There’s something fascinating about seeing pimples, lipomas, cysts and other growths squeezed and surgically removed from her patients.  The human body is a wondrous miracle that happens to also be capable of producing really grotesque material that makes for wild TV.  Full disclosure: In the past, I had a 4 inch lipoma removed from my abdomen and a benign marble sized cyst taken off the side of my head, but not from Dr. Lee.

Many of the pimple popper patients featured have let their growths expand to amazing sizes.  One episode showed a man with a cyst on his arm that was the size of a 16 inch softball.  Another guy had a benign but bulging golf ball-like tumor on the middle of his forehead.  Cyclops had nothing on this ‘third eye.’  There’s also the poor woman who had a horn shaped cyst sprouting out of the top her of head.  It is cringe worthy seeing custard like goo oozing out of these growths. I might never eat another cream filled doughnut again. You can even sometimes hear the squishing sounds of certain cysts getting squeezed out of their skin.   

The one thing I don’t understand is WHY these patients let their bulging lumps get so big that their body parts become a freak show. Maybe they didn’t have the money or insurance to take care of these issues.  However, the growth growers do receive what appears to be excellent care from Dr. Lee. Many of these epidermal abnormalities look like they were borne from another world.  I wouldn’t be surprised to someday see Dr. Pimple Popper yank the creature from “Alien” out of someone’s body.  

It can be a challenge to watch some of the scenes inside Dr. Lee’s exam room because they are not for the squeamish. Still, I take on that challenge each week and make it through without getting sick.  Some people like to climb dangerous mountains, some ride scary roller coasters and hope to not throw up, I watch Dr. Pimple Popper and hope to keep my non-vomiting streak going.  (If you’re keeping score, I haven’t thrown up since early February of 1991. )

However, I think I’ve met my limit with a new program now airing on A&E.  It features an African American chiropodist who specializes in excising warts, ingrown toenails, fungus and other abnormalities from patient’s feet.  Feet! Ugh!  I cannot let myself even peek in on this program. 

Anyone who knows me is aware that I have an aversion to bare feet, especially toes. No matter how well clipped, manicured and painted they might be, toes are the ugliest part of the human anatomy.  Those goofs who claim to have ‘foot fetishes’ are in my opinion the most twisted weirdos on the face of the earth. Lord knows those ‘foot freaks will be tuned in to “The Toe Bro” as he clips, lances, burns off and surgically heals the ailments of men and women who want to get back to a normal life.

With ‘The Toe Bro’ (pardon the pun) following in the footsteps of Dr. Pimple Popper, I see the realm of reality medical shows may have no limits.  So let’s examine a couple ideas from my sick mind for future doctor programs. 

You could take a male physician with a stoner persona who does breast enlargements and call his show “The Boob Dude.”   Or a female doctor who specializes in treating man’s erectile dysfunctions, call her “The Dick Chick” or “The Cock Doc.”   My personal favorite idea? How about showing a female proctologist doing her job?  Call her “The Ass Lass.”

I’m just spit-balling here.  There’s probably a load more of specialists doctor shows just waiting to be produced.   Until then, I’ll stick with “Dr. Pimple Popper” and make fast tracks away from “The Toe Bro.” 

You may now proceed to the bathroom and throw up.

A couple weeks ago I took up one of those Facebook challenges. Each day (for 10 days) the ‘challenged’ was to show a picture from a movie that had an impact on me personally but leave no reason why or any other explanation. These did not have to be the “Greatest” movies of all time or anything like that, which was fine with me.  I was also supposed to nominate a new Facebook friend each day to take on the same challenge.  That part I refused to do because I don’t like throwing others into those kinds of frays. Silly me, I don’t want to be like the parent who tries to peddle their daughter’s Girl Scout Cookies to co-workers.  No thanks on that.

So as the first 9 days rolled on, my film list included “Network”, “Ordinary People”, “Tender Mercies”, “The Godfather,”  “Good Will Hunting”,  “Citizen Kane”, “Hannah & Her Sisters,” “Brokeback Mountain” & “Waking Ned Devine.”  For different reasons, each of these movies affected me personally and that’s why I proudly posted them. 

But it was my last pick, Demetri Martin’s “Dean” that I wanted to write about or give a further “explanation.” Martin wrote, directed and starred in this movie. Late last year I mentioned this film as a new favorite of mine. It doesn’t matter that it wasn’t some mega-selling movie that gobbled up awards or nominations when it was released a couple of years ago.  What matters is what I got out of it personally, how I was impacted by this small movie.

Dean is a twenty something cartoonist trying to get over the recent death of his mother.  Meanwhile Dean’s father (Kevin Kline) is coping with his wife’s passing by selling the family home in Brooklyn and relocating to New York City.  Dean travels to L.A. for a job interview and to meet up with friends there. He then falls for a young woman who introduces her name by saying “It starts with an “N” and ends with ‘icky’.”  Dean and Nicky (played by Gillian Jacobs) have an awkward start to their relationship but they casually bond and click.  Heck, I fell for Nicky’s quirkiness and saw how Dean could do the same.

Dean himself has a dry wit who says funny things to his friends that he just sees as simple truthful observations. I saw his humor and persona aligned with my own.  (We often gravitate towards those who are like us and that would be the case here.)           

There’s more to the story including Dean’s father’s tentative courting of his real estate agent played by Mary Steenburgen. Dean and his dad continue to navigate through their grief, albeit in different ways.  Without spoiling things, the words that end the film are touching without being sappy and wise without being pompous. It’s a perfect close to a story about love, loss and hope.

Dean’s personal revelation culled from his mother’s passing was something I’ve been looking to find for many years.  In fact I was searching so long I actually gave up on locating it.  Here in my middle years not only have I lost most of my family members, I’ve also experienced the deaths of six non-relatives, most at very young ages, who meant as much to me as family.

In Lawrence Kasdan’s 1992 film “Grand Canyon,” Steve Martin’s movie producer character had a great line (told to Kevin Kline, ironically) when he said, “All of life’s riddles are answered in the movies.”  I’m not sure that’s true but in the case of “Dean” I found an answer to the riddle of missing special people in my life.  The impact of that answer makes this movie more than worthy of being on my ‘personally significant’ list.

If you get the chance, catch “Dean” on DVD from your library or on a streaming service, cable, whatever.  I’m not saying you’ll get out of it what I did but you’ll like the movie nonetheless…