I went to the show Monday and saw Moneyball. It was a profitable experience as while sitting and waiting for the 11:00 showing at my neighborhood Harkin’s theater, technical problems occurred and the movie couldn’t be shone. Luckily, the theater had another screen where we could see the show at 1:00 so my wife and I packed up our Milk Duds, the free passes the management gave us for our inconvenience, and saw the show a little later.

That experience got us off on the right foot and it only got better with the showing of Moneyball. I think it is a fine film but I want to issue a couple of warnings to those who may not be familiar with what this is about: It doesn’t matter what anyone tells you; this is a baseball movie that stars Brad Pitt. Other than fine support from Philip Seymour Hoffman and Jonah Hill (Cyrus), you probably will not recognize any supporting players.

The film runs 2:06 which is normally about twenty minutes longer than I prefer but it is worth it. There are no romantic scenes. It is the story of a major league baseball general manager named Billy Beane (Pitt) and how he goes about building a team (The Oakland A’s) via computer printouts on player performances rather than offering outlandish contracts to superstars. Pitt and Hill are outstanding as Beane and his computer nerd buddy Peter Brand.

Moneyball , the book, by Michael Lewis was published in 2003. I enjoyed it and being a baseball fan I liked the way Beane was able to create a major league baseball team on a short budget via using aggregate statistics of two to three lower priced played to equal the output of expensive superstars. Pitt plays Beane to the hilt and is in basically every scene.

Unless your girlfriend or boyfriend is a baseball fan, this is not a “date movie.” Pitt is great looking as usual and if that is all you care about, Moneyball is for you. He laughs, he yells, he smiles, and he owns the movie: all the things people like to see him do. Hoffman is good as manager Art Howe who is in total disagreement with Beane 99% of the time.

In its first weekend, Moneyball took in $19.5 million, not bad for a specialized movie. Rotten Tomatoes gives it 94% on the tomatometer and the audience reaction is 92% liked it. IMDB gives it 8.3 out of 10. It has humor, drama, good acting and, of course, the still handsome Brad Pitt at age 47 and in terrific shape and luckily without Angelina in this one.

Classic Sayings

I love expressions and items from the past, especially the ones we see in classic films. These items were once applied universally to our lifestyles and the technology of the time but most have become a bit out of date. For those of a certain age, you will understand them. For the younger crowd, maybe not. Either way I’ll give a short explanation on each.

Asleep at the switch. I still hear this occasionally as a description of someone who is not giving full attention to something. However, it originated from the days when railroads had humans doing a lot of work that is automated now. If a guy didn’t change the tracks for a train going to Chicago and it wound up in Cleveland, he definitely was asleep at the switch.

That and a nickel will get you a cup of coffee. Yes, there was a time when coffee was a nickel a cup. I saw a sign in a diner when I was a kid that read "cup of coffee, cigarette, and a toothpick: 7 cents." Throw a nickel on the counter at Starbucks and see what you get.

Came in over the transom. Does anyone remember transoms? They were windows above the door that many old hotels and houses had to allow for better ventilation. In some comedy movies with stars like The Three Stooges, you may see them going through the transom.

Put through the wringer. If someone was working too hard, they may have said they were “put through the wringer.” Many years ago the wringer was used to squeeze the water out of washed clothes before they were hung in the backyard to dry on the “line”. The “line” was a piece of rope the clothes were hung on to dry. The clothes were held on the line by “clothes’ pins”. Wringers were replaced long ago by the spin cycle in modern washing machines.

Best thing since sliced bread. Sliced bread was quite an invention at one time and anything that was also newly invented and convenient could be referred to being the best thing since sliced bread.

Film at 11. That was the tease for TV news in the days long before live reporting.

Beam me up Scotty. "Star Trek" technology from the 60s and an expression you may still hear occasionally.

Let’s get cranking. Popular in the days when cars had cranks to start them, no ignition switches and starters then.

Dial her up. This comes from the days when if you called a girl you liked; it would be on a rotary dial phone. No push buttons in those days. No caller ID or call waiting either.

Here is one of my favorites. In the great crime film from 1931, "The Public Enemy", James Cagney is a wise guy crook driving a new stick shift fancy roadster. The stick shift (or synchromesh transmission) was a new item at that time and when a valet at a fancy club goes to park Cagney’s car, he grinds the gears. Cagney shouts, "Hey, stupid, be careful! That thing’s got gears. That ain’t no Ford!"

Cagney was referring to the Model T Fords of that era which, as he said, didn’t have gears.

Here is a quiz: In the mid 1930’s, Warren William played Erle Stanley Gardner’s lawyer Perry Mason in a series of films. The Perry of that era was a lot different from Raymond Burr. William played him as a playboy drunk. In one film Perry is returning to his office after a night on the town when a friend describes him as “so drunk that as the elevator went up he began doing the rumba to the starter’s castanets.” Can you explain what his friend meant?

If you know the answer, you are a true classic movie expert.

Having a beer, seeing a film

Whether we call it suds, a cold one, a draw, a brewski, a dime draft or whatever, most of us will admit that there is not a better beverage than beer. It’s the world’s most highly consumed alcoholic beverage and third overall behind water and tea. That’s not bad considering that technically it is illegal in most places to drink the foamy stuff if you are under the age of 21.

I used to go to town on weekends with my buddies during my Air Force days to get sloshed in a hurry as there were two reasons we were there: Find a good bar with a band and meet girls. Our standard procedure was to eat a few 15 cent McDonald’s burgers, drink a few shots and follow them down with some beers. My standard order was three or four bottles of Schlitz and a couple shots of Southern Comfort. Needless to say, it created a nice buzz and occasionally I would actually meet girls if I didn’t throw up first. I still wonder how many times I danced the Twist and the Limbo in those days.

That’s enough about my immature past. Here is a question: What are your favorite beer movies? I have three: "Strange Brew" (1983), "Animal House" (1978), and "Revenge of the Nerds". (1984)

In "Strange Brew", those two beer guzzling clowns from SCTV, (Bob and Doug McKenzie) get mixed up with evil scientist Max von Sydow who is trying to take over the world by adding a chemical to beer. Dave Thomas and Rick Moranis star as the brothers. Anyone who doesn’t like this film is a true “hoser”.

What more can be said about "Animal House"? It’s one of the best gross out films ever made. How could it not be with John Belushi as the star? Did you ever hear of a toga party before this film? Did you ever believe that that much beer could be consumed?

"Revenge of the Nerds" is a good film because it shows how a bunch of misfit underdogs can beat out the self centered jerk “popular kids”. It’s worth the price of admission just to see Booger (Curtis Armstrong) win the belching contest with the loudest beer burp.

Here is some stuff relating to beer that you may not know but will know within the next minute. We’ve all used the terms “Rule of thumb”, “Wet your whistle”, and Mind your P’s and Q’s”. “Rule of thumb” comes from the days before the thermometer was invented to test the temperature of beer. The brew masters would simply dip their thumb in the foamy stuff to determine if it was too hot or cold to add the yeast. The yea or nay determination was called the “Rule of thumb”.

“Wet you whistle” comes from the days when English pub drinkers had a whistle on the rim of their mugs so all they had to do was blow the whistle to get a refill.

Also in the English pubs, the order sizes were pints and quarts. If the barkeep decided that someone was getting unruly from being snockered, he would tell them to “mind their P’s and Qs.”

That is today’s lesson so let’s review: You have learned some interesting information about beer and beer terminology, read about my three favorite beer movies, and heard probably more than you want to know about my immature 1960s lifestyle.

Since that is settled, let’s go have a cold one!

NAT AND LENA; BORN TOO SOON

“Madison Avenue is afraid of the dark”………Nat “King” Cole, 1957.

When I was a kid, Nat “King” Cole was one of my favorite singers; especially before Rock and Roll took off in the 1950s. His string of hits earned him a 15 minute TV show on NBC in November of 1956, the same type of show as headliners like Perry Como (Chesterfield Supper Club) and Eddie Fisher (Coke Time) had.

Since a 15 minute format only allowed a couple songs to be sung, Nat’s show stayed on until July of 1957 when NBC decided to move it to Tuesdays and put it in a 30 minute format. This allowed Nat to have more guests and variety which at the time made perfect sense: Nat Cole had a string of popular songs, had a smooth and likable personality, and wasn’t the least bit offensive. Surely his show would be a hit.

Unfortunately, the show had problems from the start. Remember: I’m talking about 1957 and Nat Cole was the first black entertainer to headline a network musical variety program on national TV. Apparently, being a successful recording artist was not enough to draw a large audience on TV which meant that notable sponsors weren’t interested. During 1956-1957 he only averaged 19 percent of the viewing audience compared to 50 percent who were watching Robin Hood at the same time on CBS.

Nat "King" Cole, 1919-1965

NBC tried its best to keep the show on the air but by December of 1957, Nat canceled it before they did. Many great guest stars from the black community like Count Basie, Pearl Bailey, Billy Eckstein, Cab Calloway, and Ella Fitzgerald had appeared for gratis or minimum fees. The same applied to white stars like Tony Bennett, Mel Torme, Tony Martin and Peggy Lee. It was to no avail as the audience just wasn’t there.

Nat “King” Cole’s experience was a sad one but he wasn’t alone in his rejection. Black stars like Lena Horne faced similar treatment. Lena was a beautiful woman who was forced into “insert parts” in some major MGM films like “The Duchess of Idaho” (1950). By inserting her doing a number which had nothing to do with the story, MGM could edit her out of showings in the South because of her being considered black.

The beautiful Lena Horne

It was a different world then even though slavery had been abolished almost 100 years previously. That didn’t mean that black stars like Cole were singled out for failure as Frank Sinatra and Julie Andrews, among many other white stars, also had failed with variety shows. It also didn’t help him any.

Nat Cole died in 1965 at the age of 45 from lung cancer probably not knowing that Bill Cosby would soon break the color barrier on TV with a starring role in the “I Spy” series which ran from 1965 to 1968. The ice was broken and the late 60s became known as the golden age of blacks in television. That era saw more than two dozen shows with black actors starring as leading characters or in prominent leading supporting roles. In 1970 comedian Flip Wilson became the first black entertainer to have a successful variety show. It ran from 1970-1974.

Nat had a lot of success but also had the misfortune of being a talented black entertainer who was probably born about ten years too soon.

Dancing with Fred and Ginger

Of equal importance with the Busby Berkeley musicals of the 1930s were the films of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. How these two even met is a mini-story of its own.

Born in 1899, Fred was a popular Broadway star during the 1920s along with his sister Adele. When Adele retired in the late 1920s, Fred started looking toward Hollywood. Ginger had some Broadway experience but by 1930 was still only nineteen years old. However, like Fred, she had Hollywood on her mind.

Both scuffled a bit out west but in 1933, RKO was looking for a dance team for their Dolores del Rio-Gene Raymond musical, “Flying Down to Rio”. In spite of their minimal film experience, Fred and Ginger were given the parts along with fourth and fifth billing. They looked a bit odd: He was a balding mid 30s guy while Ginger was a gorgeous young blonde babe of twenty-two. That was forgotten after they did their sensual eighteen minute dance of the Carioca. They started a Carioca dance craze and assured themselves stardom for the next six years after gliding across those white pianos.

Next came “The Gay Divorcee” where Astaire-Rogers started another dance craze with ”The Continental” along with a number to Cole Porter’s “Night and Day”.

They were on a roll in the mid 1930s as they recorded successes like “Top Hat” (1935), “Follow the Fleet” (1936), “Shall We Dance?” (1937), and “Carefree” (1938).

After nine films in six years, they decided enough was enough and decided to move on. Their only film together after 1939 was “The Barkley’s of Broadway” (1949) which was a reunion flick and also their only film done in color.

Fred had gone on to other musicals with dancers like Rita Hayworth while Ginger tried straight acting. After playing so many light hearted musical parts, she surprised everyone by winning the Best Actress Oscar for “Kitty Foyle” in 1940. If you haven’t seen that film, check it out the next time it is on TCM. It is worth your time.

Fred danced his way up to 1976 with an appearance in “That’s Entertainment, Part II”. He also did a lot of straight acting and got an AA nomination for “The Towering Inferno” (1974). Ginger continued acting but after “Kitty Foyle” the good parts dried up.

Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers doing what they did best. (RKO Pictures)

As a side note, Ginger’s mother was the quintessential stage mother who didn’t think that Astaire was that good and that Ginger should have received more credit for her work. At one time she supposedly said “Ginger does the same things he does only she does them backwards with heels.”

Regardless, for a couple of kids from Nebraska and Missouri, Fred and Ginger did pretty well. In an early screen test one movie executive said that Fred “can’t sing, can’t act, can dance a little.” So much for his evaluation!

Fred died in 1987 and Ginger followed him in 1995. A couple of years ago, Ginger’s childhood home and birthplace in Independence, Missouri was for sale at $20,000. There were no offers.

Film Censorship: Hays and Breen

What would Will Hays think if he was alive today and saw the nudity in films along with the dreaded “F” word used so frequently? Since he was brought in by the MPAA to “tone down” the action on the screen it was assumed he was a hardnosed guy. Actually, he was pretty mild mannered having worked in the Harding administration as the Postmaster General before Hollywood called in 1922.

Hays took the job and set some informal guidelines for the studios to follow. By 1927, he formalized the rules and, although he meant well, they were largely ignored. The studios liked the 48 year old ex-Postmaster because he kept the government off their backs, but 1927 was the Jazz Age so who wanted rules?

With sound taking over movies in 1930, it became apparent that stronger censorship was needed. On March 31, 1930, the Production Code (Hays Code) was adopted and as had been the case with the original Hays Code, was ignored. By 1934 the Catholic Legion of Decency was established with the goal of strictly enforcing the code. Also, the Production Code Administration was established in July, 1934 as a response to the lewd movie fare of the early 1930s. A tough character named Joseph Breen was named as its director and was very literal in his enforcement.

Will Hays: Mild mannered censor from Indiana

The era of 1930-1934 was known as the “pre-code era” because, even though a code existed, it was not followed. Take a look at films from the pre-code times and compare them to 1934 and afterwards when Breen took over. There were no more shots of a scantily dressed Fay Wray or thinly veiled nipples as in “Gold Diggers of 1933”.

A couple of Breen’s encounters were “Tarzan and His Mate” (1934) where he deleted a nude underwater scene involving a stand-in for Maureen O’Sullivan. Later, Breen battled with Howard Hughes in 1941 over whether there was too much use of Jane Russell’s breasts for promos of “The Outlaw”. The discussions went on so long that the film wasn’t released until 1943.

Joseph Breen of the Catholic Legion of Decency

Some of the rules enforced by the Production Code seem tame by today’s standards. Of course, nudity and profanity were not allowed and screen kisses had to be close mouthed and limited to six seconds. When two people embraced, one of them had to have his or her foot on the floor. Words like “broad”, “pregnant”, and “hold your hat” were not permitted. Hold your hat?) Also, seduction could not be used as a form of comedy.
This mentality lasted well into the 1960s.

Because of changes in attitudes, an influx of foreign films which clearly violated the Hays Code, and various social movements, the Code was disbanded in 1967 and replaced by the MPAA’s own rating system. Hays died in 1954 at age 74. He never got to see his Code replaced.

1930-1934 was an interesting period and besides being known as the “pre-code era” is sometimes called the era of “sound and sexuality”.

TV Sitcoms: The 1960s

Television sitcoms in the 1950s contained a lot of carryover shows from radio like Jack Benny, Burns and Allen, Ozzie and Harriet, “The Aldrich family”, “Beulah”, and “The Goldbergs”. It was funny stuff but nothing new. The most successful new sitcom of the decade was “I Love Lucy” which ran from 1951 to 1957. Everyone loved Lucy and it showed in the ratings.

From the mid 50s into the early 60s, comedy slipped in favor of westerns which became more popular than anyone could imagine; more on that in a future post.

As the 1960s emerged, TV was searching for something to boost ratings. They came up with a lot of shows that I would call “screwball sitcoms”. Please don’t confuse the term “screwball” with the great movie comedies of 1934-1941. The TV shows were not in that league and many of them were just plain bad although two stand out as high quality productions: “The Dick Van (inappropriate term) Show” (1961-1966) and “The Andy Griffith Show” (1960-1968).

A lot of the 60s’ sitcoms depended on gimmicks or “shtick” to gain an audience. One of the most popular entries was “The Beverly Hillbillies” with Buddy Ebsen . It somehow managed to stay on CBS as a rating’s giant from 1962-1971. The plot was oxymoronic: Hillbillies from the Ozarks invading the luxury of Hollywood with the result being the funny interaction of the two cultures. Robert Osborne even appeared in one 1962 episode.

Buddy Ebsen as Jed Clampett in "The Beverly Hillbillies" (TV Land)

CBS salivated over the ratings of “The Beverly Hillbillies” so it was quickly followed by “Gomer Pyle, USMC” (1964-1970), “Green Acres” (1965-1971) and “Petticoat Junction” (1963-1970). Gomer was a spin-off from “The Andy Griffith Show” and starred Jim Nabors as a marine bumpkin who was always irritating his nemesis, Sergeant Carter, played by Frank Sutton.

Frank Sutton (L) and Jim Nabors in "Gomer Pyle, USMC (MPTV.net)

“Green Acres” starred Eddie Albert and was the opposite of “The Beverly Hillbillies” as it placed city slickers in the country with the expected hilarious results. “Petticoat Junction” followed the antics of the townsfolk of Hooterville, USA.

I used to feel sorry for quality actors like Ebsen and Albert having to participate in this canned laugh track fare but they were in the acting business and had to eat too. On the plus side, I’m sure they were well paid for those nonsensical shows.

The same goes for Ray Walston who starred in another gimmick show, “My Favorite Martian” (1963-1966). Do you remember the Francis the talking mule films with Donald O’Connor? In this show Ray plays a Martian who will only let co-star Bill Bixby know of his powers. Does that sound a bit like Francis only talking to Peter Sterling (O’Connor)? It was pretty bad.

Then there was “Bewitched” (1964-1972) where Samantha’s witchcraft was the gimmick usually at husband Darrin’s expense. It’s no wonder he slugged down those Martinis after work! “I Dream of Jeannie” (1965-1970) used a similar scenario where Jeannie (Barbara Eden) used her powers over her “master” Larry Hagman.

If you liked macabre humor there was “The Addams Family” and “The Munsters”. “Gilligan’s Island” and “McHale’s Navy” provided slapstick. Family humor was alive with “Dennis The Menace” and “Leave it to Beaver” along with the ever sweet “The Donna Reed Show”.

Most of these shows were inane but they did provide some innocent fun during the 1960s. Like the music of the time, TV was emerging from the innocence of the 1950s while also bringing a bit of carryover from that era. By the end of the decade and the beginning of the 1970s, wholesale changes were in store for the tube.

More on that later.

SOME TV vs. FILM HISTORY

Although the early days of television hurt the movie business, they didn’t ruin it like they did radio. Sure, starting in the late 1940s TV was new and exciting even if it was on a 7” to 16” black and white screen. However, not every home had one for two main reasons: Sets were very expensive and they were hard to get.

As a kid in Cincinnati, I can remember our first TV. It was a 16” B&W “National” and it cost about $500. Those were big bucks in 1949 and there was no remote, just 3 channels, and “rabbit ears” on top of the set for an antenna. When reception got bad, a little Reynold’s Wrap around the antenna helped a bit except when an airplane passed over. Nothing could help that but it at least was just a brief interruption.

Most of the shows were local but NBC from New York had a network followed shortly after by CBS and ABC. One of the events responsible for the great interest in TV in the late 1940s was NBC’s successful broadcast of the 1947 baseball World Series. One of the popular showcases for TV was the local bar. Almost every one of them had a TV and packed in the customers who wanted to watch sporting events.

OUR FIRST TV, A 1949 NATIONAL 16" BLACK AND WHITE

It took about six months to get a set as the demand was high. Everyone was in the business including brands you probably never heard of like Muntz, Hallicrafters, and Capehart. I mentioned above our National was $500 but if you wanted an “entertainment center” you could get a 7” TV, 78 rpm record player, and AM radio combination for about $800!

TV broadcasts in the early ‘50s usually came on about 5:00 in the afternoon and signed off at about midnight or 1:00 a.m. Popular network shows were the Texaco Star Theater, Arthur Godfrey, and Ed Sullivan’s “Toast of the Town” which, a few years later, would cause a controversy when Elvis appeared with his swiveling hips. The camera could only show him from the waist up because of protests.

For the kids, there was Howdy Doody. Before we had a set, all the kids in my neighborhood would crowd every afternoon at 5:30 into the living room of a girl up the street and watch Howdy Doody, Buffalo Bob, and the Peanut Gallery. The TV was a 14" Admiral B&W trable model but it looked like a 60" color flatscreen to us.

If you turned on the TV before “sign on” you would see a “test pattern” which was a bullseye looking thing usually with an Indian’s head that showed on the screen accompanied by an annoying hum.

AN EARLY 1950s TV TEST PATTERN

It all sounds primitive now, but at the time it did a lot of damage to theater ticket sales. From 1948 to 1953, home ownership of TVs in the US increased from 1% to 50% and by the 1960s was 90%. Suddenly, color films were flowing out of Hollywood in response to the black and white one eyed monster in all those living rooms across America.

In 1952, a gigantic screen with three projectors and a superior sound system made its debut in select theaters. It was called Cinerama and was followed closely by 3-D with its flimsy cardboard glasses. Other attempts by the film business to thwart TV were Cinemascope and Vista Vision which we already mentioned in another blog.

Cinerama was discontinued in 1962 and 3-D only lasted a couple years in the 50s. Both systems plus the more standard wide screen stuff were basically stopgap methods used to try to win customers back into the theaters. Eventually, both genres found their niche and gimmicks gave way to more quality films while the movie studios started working with TV making “made for TV” films.

The dust had settled.

Remakes: Good or Ripoffs?

At the risk of sounding wishy-washy, I think some film remakes are good and some bad. Some film makers try to cash in with remakes of blockbusters just to take advantage of the good fortune some other guy took on a big career risk.

Regardless, remakes are nothing new. Even in the early 1930’s, the philosophy was that if something was a hit, let’s beat it to death until the audiences say “No, we’ve had enough!” Remakes then were as they are now: either a remake of the same film (sometimes scene for scene) or sequel the audience to death.

An early example is “The Maltese Falcon”. There was an excellent version made in 1931 starring Ricardo Cortez as Sam Spade. In 1936, it was copied poorly as “Satan Met a Lady” with Warren William. Hollywood was not satisfied that they got all they could out of that story so in 1941 we got the benchmark version with Bogart and Astor. In this case, the third version was worth waiting for.

Next, we have “The Front Page”. There have been four versions of it with all of them good: 1931, 1940 (as “His Girl Friday”), 1974, and 1988 (as “Switching Channels”). My favorite? It has to be “His Girl Friday”. It was done as one of the last screwball comedies and how can we improve on a cast of Cary Grant, Rosalind Russell, and Ralph Bellamy plus a room full of great character actors?

“High Sierra” is in my top five favorites and the remakes (“I Died a Thousand Times”, 1955), and Colorado Territory (1949), are decent.

Now, we have the stinkers: “Doctor Doolittle” (1967), (1998). Why even do a remake? The first version with Rex Harrison was a snoozer at 144 minutes in length. The second with Eddie Murphy was a little better but still induced yawning.

It’s the same with “Rollerball” (1975). It was OK and had a good cast with James Caan and John Houseman but did it warrant a remake? If you saw the 2002 version, I’m sure you’ll agree that once was enough.

In the case of “Stagecoach” (1939), it isn’t that the 1966 version is bad, it's just that the original from 1939 was so good that it was impossible to improve upon. “Stagecoach” re-launched John Wayne as a major star after he floundered in the 1930’s. With the combination of the Duke with Thomas Mitchell, John Carradine, Claire Trevor, Andy Devine and others the 1966 cast with Bing Crosby, Robert Cummings, Ann-Margret and Slim Pickens had no chance.

Do I dare mention “Psycho” from 1998 vs. the 1960 Hitchcock version? Think Janet Leigh vs. Ann Heche as Marion Crane and Anthony Perkins vs. Vince Vaughn as Norman Bates. Enough said?

Test yourself: Name four films made during the 1940s that included Barton MacLean and Humphrey Bogart.

John Wayne in "Stagecoach". So long to "The Three Mesquiteers".

LET'S NOT FORGET "HOPPY"

This is “singing cowboys month” on TCM and although William Boyd as Hopalong Cassidy was not a singing cowboy, I think he deserves a mention for the contributions he made to the western genre.

Unless you are a certain age, you may be scratching your head and wondering, “Who was Hopalong Cassidy?” “Hoppy” was, along with Roy Rogers and Gene Autry, one of the great western heroes in the movies of the 1930s and 1940s. Also, like Autry and Rogers, he was very successful on television in the late 1940s and for years afterward.

Bill Boyd was 12 years older than Autry and 17 years older than Rogers. Although they all had success on TV and in films, Boyd led the way. Unlike many western heroes, he wore a totally black outfit including a black hat instead of the usual “good guy” white hat. At age 40 in 1935, he became Hopalong Cassidy along with co-star and future Roy Rogers and Gene Autry sidekick, Gabby Hayes.

His series of 66 quickly made “B” westerns was very successful as kids loved to watch Hoppy beat up the bad guys. With his black outfit, silver hair, and white horse Topper, he was quite an imposing figure as his fast paced action made quick work of the villains.

HOPPY WITH TOPPER

By 1944, the producer of his films ended the series. Bill Boyd mortgaged everything he had to buy the rights to the films and by 1946 was back in business as Hoppy. By 1948, the “B” western was losing its edge in theaters but, like Rogers and Autry, Boyd was a good businessman and saw a future in the new world of television.

NBC was a new network at that time and Boyd sold his films to them in edited versions that would fit into the television format. Later he made a series of 30 minute shows which ran from 1949-1951 on NBC and for years afterward in syndication. At age 58, he retired in 1953.

William Boyd’s future wife, Grace Bradley, married him three weeks after they met in 1937. Although she was 18 years younger, she said he was “the love of my life.” They were together until 1972 when he died at 77.

At the Lone Pine Film Festival in 1995, 82 year old Grace said, “Everybody I talk to is looking for a hero. They say ‘If only we had Hoppy again’, or somebody like him. The children have no role models. Who do we have?” I understand her point.

Grace Bradley Boyd died on her birthday last September in Dana Point, California. She was 97 and died of age related causes.

I feel lucky to have grown up in the Hopalong Cassidy, Gene Autry, and Roy Rogers era. It was exciting to see their movies and TV shows on cold Ohio winter days with a cup of Ovaltine or Campbell’s tomato soup as we eagerly watched them round up the bad guys on our 16” Admiral black and white TV.

Trivia question: Where did Hoppy's horse Topper get his name?

Lobby poster for a Hoppy western

Hooray For Hollywood (1930s style)

Do you have memories of going to the show as a kid? I remember my mom telling me to not let my head touch the back of the seat or I might get ringworm. We also never worried about starting times for shows. We would simply leave “where we came in.” Do you remember the “Air Cooled” banner on the marquee to indicate air conditioning?

Here is guest writer Joe Finnerty's account of a day at the movies with his buddies in the 1930’s.

HOORAY FOR HOLLYWOOD (1930's style)

By Joe Finnerty

Hollywood is to blame. Moguls such as Cecil B. De Mille stopped me from experiencing real life as a child. Movies, with their dream world of adventure and comedy, captivated me while growing up. Thank goodness for TV documentaries which allow me to catch up on the events that passed me by while the big screen kept me glued to my seat.

I joined legions of Hoboken’s waifs every Saturday afternoon to watch endless numbers of films at the nearby U. S. Theater, a grand name for a somewhat shopworn venue. Half the fun of attending the matinee was trying to sneak in without paying. Two fire escape doors on either side of the balcony led to steel stairways. With precision, at an appointed time, some paying customer would open one of the exit doors, allowing a horde of waiting boys to race inside. This mad dash came to mind when recently reading a news report of a mob of illegal immigrants who charged en masse across a border checkpoint. A few lucky ones managed to elude the police. That is the way it was with my boyhood pals. Only a small number managed to avoid detection. Most were corralled and booted out by the ushers. The excitement generated by this storming of the gates sometimes exceeded that of the latest adventure film which followed.

Sneaking in to see a show this way was not my style. Rather than rely upon cohorts to help me enter the theater, my preference was to steal a few deposit milk bottles to earn my ten-cent admission fee. I had SOME pride, after all.

Most of the pre-teen boys chose to sit in the balcony. The pre-teen girls sat in the orchestra. This seating preference allowed the boys to shower the girls with wads of gum and candy wrappers. The mezzanine was an unmarked hard-hat area. Usually this barrage ended when the first serial began showing. Then, everyone focused their attention on the screen for the next three to four hours.

Few ‘B’ movies made in Hollywood from 1935 to 1940 escaped my viewing. It was a time of innocence. The plots taught me values that became etched in my psyche. Good guys always won. Bad guys always got their comeuppance. A few Native Americans were okay, like Tonto, but most of them were low-down (inappropriate term). Mexican cowpokes, especially the Cisco Kid, always spoke broken English in a hilarious way. The Chinese were definitely inscrutable, especially Charlie Chan, although his son was a nerd. Some Black people had rhythm. Did you see that old butler Bojangles dancing with Shirley Temple?

One afternoon, in the summer of 1938, while returning home after spending four hours of movie watching, my weary eyes began to observe that something unusual had occurred outdoors that afternoon. In plain view were many canvas window awnings torn to shreds, flapping loosely. It puzzled me, but not sufficiently to discuss my observation with my family who never brought up the subject either. Not until years later did I learn that a great hurricane had smashed the eastern seaboard that afternoon, destroying lives and property across a wide region of the northeast including metropolitan New York, Long Island and much of New England.

All the movies I saw that day were memorable, legendary even. In one, Tom Mix and his horse Tony became lost in New York City. The Marx Brothers stole his nag and took it to the races. Meanwhile, Mickey Mouse chased a big ape up a tall building. I know. I was there. I saw it.

The marquee of the Orpheum Theater in downtown Phoenix in 1942. Notice the "Cooled by Refrigeration" banner.

GIRL TUNES

I was listening to the radio in the car today and one of my favorite old "girl name" songs was played. It was "Francine" by ZZ Top, a cut from the 1972 album "Rio Grande Mud." Needless to say, I turned the volume all the way up and broke off the knob. (Got a girl, her name’s Francine, finest thing you ever seen, and I love her). Oh, yeah!

ZZ Top’s use of a girl’s name in the title made me wonder about all the other great "girl name" songs that have been popular through the years. If you are like me and grew up a pop music fan, each song will bring back a memory of when you heard the song in the past.

The first one I thought of was "Peggy Sue" by Buddy Holly. What a great tune to take me back to high school in 1957. I had just gotten my drivers’s license that year and must have heard that song a million times on the radio cruising through Frisch’s Drive-In restaurant in Cincinnati and looking for girls.

In 1966, a garage band from Chicago called The Shadows of Knight recorded the Van Morrison written tune "Gloria." It was a great, grinding, song that was easy to sing and dance to, especially after you had downed a few beers. I was 6 months out of the Air Force and had met a beautiful, 20 year old co-ed at the U. Of Cincinnati named Barb, who would eventually be my wife. We were both young, enjoying life, and having a great time together. Thanks, Van, for writing "Gloria."

A couple years later in 1968, I was living in Missouri and The Monkees were popular. One of my favorites from those guys was "Valleri." We had parties at a vet’s club near school where "Valleri" always made the playlist. I loved the part where we sang to the record: And her name is Val, al, al,al, al leri! Those were fun days, I wonder what happened to those guys.

In 1972, it was Derek and the Dominos (Eric Clapton) doing "Layla." Another great song and I remember it at many parties. 1972 was the year we bought our first house in Kansas. $26,000 for 3 bedrooms, 2 car garage, large lot on a lake and cul-de-sac. Falstaff beer was also $1.00 per 6 pack and I had my share of that while working in my new yard and listening to that new phenomenon, rock music on FM radio.

ERIC CLAPTON AT WORK

I could go on forever about girl songs. I’m sure you have great memories of your own and when you hear your faves, relate to a time and place when you heard that tune.

Here’s a few more you probably know: "Sherry" 1962, by The Four Seasons, "Eleanor Rigby" 1966, by The Beatles, "Mustang Sally" 1966, by Wilson Pickett, "Brandy" 1972, by The Looking Glass, "Maggie May" 1971, by Rod Stewart, "My Sharona" 1979, by The Knack, "Jenny 867-5309" 1982, by Tommy Tutone, "Billie Jean" 1983, by Michael Jackson.

What are your favorite "girl name" songs? I have barely scratched the surface with my list.

REMEMBERING DRIVE-IN THEATERS

Those of you who are old enough can remember the fun of going to the drive-in theater. Whether you went as a child with your parents, went with your teen age buddies, or with a date (if you were lucky!), the drive-in was THE place to go for kids of the 1950s.

It was fun to go to the drive-in as kids. My parents always knew better than to park behind a pick-up truck because of height and we had a great time on the swings before the show. We would frequently bring lawn chairs or sit on the hood of the car and lean back on the windshield. For whatever reason, I always remember the refreshment stand having great barbecue sandwiches. It was probably because of how they promoted them so much between double features.

The Oakley Drive-In of Cincinnati is where I made a career choice. It was usually easy to sneak into the place by driving down the exit drive with your lights off. On one particular night in 1957, I drove in with some buddies, parked, and put the speaker in the window when suddenly the manager appeared and he was angry. He had been watching for "sneakers" and had caught us red handed. I got out of the car acting humble and apologetic and generally playing the role of the "good kid" who had done something stupid on a dare. He actually believed me, softened up, and even let us stay and watch the movie for free. I said to myself, "Jim, you are a born salesman", and that is what I eventually became. I’m glad we didn’t have any guys hiding in the trunk that night or the guy may not have been so forgiving!

When I went out with my 1959-1961 girl friend, I don’t remember us doing much other than going to the drive-in to make out. Even in the winter, it was great even though those cheesy little heaters they had didn’t do much good. You also had to be careful of the window speakers. Many customers would drive off without replacing them and break the wires or the car window. Today, at the few drive-ins left, most have the sound play through the customer's radio.

If you are too young to remember these places, you can still go to the few that are left and enjoy an evening "1950's style." It’s about $6.50 admission these days (75 cents in 1957!) and I suggest taking your own food and drinks. Also, since the sound comes through the radio now, bring a boom box if you sit outside, it’s better than turning up your car radio.

Arizona had its share of drive-ins during the 1950s with a high of 49 being in operation in 1958. Sadly, today there are only a few left in the state, mostly in the Phoenix-Scottsdale area.

HOLLYWOOD FANTASIES

The ability of actors, musicians, and directors to instill laughter or pathos into an audience is fascinating. As a kid I used to cry when Lassie was in trouble as I was oblivious to the fact that everything turns out all right in a Lassie film.

It’s the fantasy of Hollywood at work. One of my favorite scenes in “Casablanca” is where Rick and Sam are standing in the rain at the train station waiting for Ilsa, and Rick reads her rain stained Dear John letter. I can picture Michael Curtiz calling “Cut!” five minutes later and everyone heading down a sunny street to the Warner’s commissary for lunch. There may be a lot of tear jerking emotion in scenes like the train station but in reality, films are a business with schedules and deadlines.

HUMPHREY BOGART AND DOOLEY WILSON IN "CASABLANCA"

An imagination is a necessity at the movies. How else could Western heroes shoot twenty rounds out of a six shooter without reloading? How could the Cavalry arrive just in time to save the fort? How could Bob Steele at 5’ 5” in height beat up all those big guys?

How about the age fantasies? Would Leslie Caron really fall for Fred Astaire in “Daddy Long Legs” with Fred being 32 years older and looking like Charlie McCarthy? Even a good looking Gene Kelly was still 20 years older than Caron in “An American in Paris”. Another classic mismatch was Humphrey Bogart and Audrey Hepburn in “Sabrina” where Bogie was 30 years older than Audrey. It’s one of my favorite films but my imagination was working overtime on that age difference.

It doesn’t seem fair that leading men got to play romantic roles into their 50s and 60s while the ladies were losing starring roles at 40 or younger. Men were still considered “handsome” or “distinguished”. Women were “getting older.” Welcome to Hollywood!

One of my favorite female character actors was Rosemary DeCamp. Rosemary always looked older than she was and in “Yankee Doodle Dandy” she played Jimmy Cagney’s mother in spite of being eleven years younger than Cagney! Jesse Royce Landis played Cary Grant’s mother in “North by Northwest” even though she was three months younger than Cary. Where else but Hollywood?

These examples go on forever and are fun to talk about. That’s what makes Hollywood fantasies so much fun because isn’t it the perception rather than the reality of motion pictures that we like? When Rick tells Ilsa, “Here’s looking at you, kid”, we all sigh. When Depression audiences laughed at screwball comedy, the movies were doing their job by giving those people a couple hours of happiness before they had to face the harsh realities of the real world.

A little backstage artificiality isn’t going to do any harm; it’s just part of the fantasy that we know and love about Hollywood.

JUNE IS BUSTIN' OUT ALL OVER

By Guest writer Joe Finnerty

Another D-Day has come and gone. Much to my surprise, this year’s anniversary (2011) received no media coverage. It should come as no surprise given the ongoing Afghanistan war and the declining number of WW II aged citizens who represent the core audience.

D-Day, June 6,1944. "At the Hedgehogs" (Robert Capa)

In 2006, PBS aired a documentary that brought together three veterans of the invasion, an American, a Brit, and a German. These three men shared their respective experiences and made the epic battle that began on June 6, 1944, engrossing and personal. Their reenactment of the day was vivid and compelling. However, it did not match the story a participant in one of my Reminiscence Writing classes told one year. A physician, he described in graphic terms the carnage he had witnessed on Omaha Beach and elsewhere for months thereafter. Until this class, he had never shared his harrowing memory with anyone.

In contrast and inexplicably, I have no vivid recollection of D-Day. The landing of troops on French soil happened without my knowledge, apparently. It took place two days before my seventeenth birthday, a few weeks prior to my high school graduation and matriculating at college. These events in my life overshadowed the greatest invasion in man’s history.

Until the following June when I turned eighteen, I gave little thought to the prospect of my having to fight in the war. Not until the draft board sent me my induction notice did this possibility hit me. As events unfolded, I entered military service just as the war with Japan ended. After being discharged in 1947, I reentered college and graduated in 1950, soon after which I moved to California. Along the way, I lost track of my high school chums.

As you might imagine, I was delighted to receive an invitation to attend my 50th Anniversary Class Reunion in 1994. During a cocktail hour, we conducted a survey and determined that of the sixty boys who graduated, forty six served in the military. The remaining fourteen had been classified 4-F, which struck me an unusually large percentage. None of my classmates had died or suffered wounds in combat. I regret to say no one surveyed the girls to find out if any of them entered the service, or how many went to college, immediately or later on in life.

The class produced a number of male college graduates, including two priests, one physician, a chemist and five mechanical and engineers. Many attended college under the provisions of the G. I. Bill, including myself.

I learned that the majority of my classmates still lived in or near Hoboken. Some had spent their entire lives working in nearby factories. A few had died, including the class president (valedictorian and priest), and the vice president (best athlete). My best friend and fellow college graduate had died at age fifty, a suicide.

Plans to have another reunion fizzled out, thwarting me from asking my classmates: Do you recall D-Day? I am convinced they would have said yes, leaving me as the only dummy in the class who doesn’t. The explanation is simple. At the time I was in love with what’s her name.

LIGHT MY FIRE!

(Guest contributor Joe Finnerty returns with another childhood memory from his teenage days in Hoboken, NJ in the 1940s. Chemistry class was never the same after Joe and his buddy Johnny Gallagher got through with the lab!)

LIGHT MY FIRE

By Joe Finnerty

Johnny Gallagher was my lab partner in high school chemistry. He was impish and very Irish. Teachers and classmates liked him. He was not an honor roll pupil, but he was a star varsity basketball player despite his short stature: 5 feet 4 inches, in sneakers. Johnny could make two-handed set shots from mid-court. Gallagher was a spunky player much favored by the team’s coach, Mr. John Kane, who happened to be our chemistry teacher.

Mr. Kane was not a very good basketball coach, as evidenced by our teams’ losing record year after year. His record as a chemistry teacher may have been even worse.

The first time our class entered the Chem. Lab, Mr. Kane warned us about the danger of spilling or mixing the various chemical reagents. These were neatly stored in glass jars that lined the shelves placed above the sinks and workspaces. Our first task, Mr. Kane said, would be to make our own stir rods. He distributed 1/4" diameter glass rods that we had to saw cut into one-foot lengths. He then demonstrated how to twirl the roughened ends in a Bunsen burner in order to smooth them into a rounded shape.

Gallagher had no difficulty following these instructions. Then, it was my turn. It seemed reasonable that I should be able to perform this simple task, right?

Moving deftly, I positioned the glass rod in the flame, rotating it while one end melted and became round and smooth. I then reversed the rod, putting the other roughened end into the flame. Within seconds, the smell of something burning hit my nostrils. It was I, oh Lord! The end of the rod I had just heated touched some fuzzy threads of my beautiful baby blue angora sweater, causing them to smolder.

With alarm, I said, “Here,” handing Johnny the rod in order to beat out the incipient flames with both hands. He grabbed hold of the end I had just removed from the Bunsen burner, scorching his palm. Johnny screamed in pain and flung the rod which knocked over some reagent bottles. Their contents interacted violently, creating a cloud of acrid, dense smoke. We had created a scene akin to a Three Stooges skit: I’m dealing with a blazing sweater; Gallagher is bellowing in pain; and Mr. Kane is rushing around the room, telling the rest of the students to “Get the hell out.”

JOE FINNERTY

After that incident, Gallagher kept his distance from me. We never became close friends. Despite this misadventure, Mr. Kane gave me an exceptional grade of 90. In truth, he passed everyone with the same mark, as he did not much care to evaluate students. His mind was on the next basketball season, worrying about how he was going to find a player to replace Gallagher.

This experience taught me never to choose an Irish leprechaun as a lab partner. They ruin your best clothes.

Scottsdale's Safari Hotel

(Re-printed from the May 20 edition of the Scottsdale Republic)

When one looks at the busy intersection of Scottsdale and Camelback Roads in 2011, it’s hard to believe that at one time sheep were driven south on Scottsdale Road to fields in Chandler.

Those busy corners were a rural intersection in the days prior to the mid 1950s. Going east, Camelback ended at Scottsdale Road which was considered the city limits. Fashion Square was still a dream as rodeo grounds occupied the land where it now stands. It was so rural that horseback riders had the right of way over cars.

The idea of any kind of fancy resort in that area was incomprehensible. All the good motels were miles away on Van Buren and Grand. Who would want to travel fourteen miles from Phoenix to Scottsdale to stay in the middle of nowhere?

As in many stories of success, there were a couple of guys who were willing to gamble that people would make the trek to stay at “Scottsdale’s first hotel”. Their gamble paid off as the hotel became an icon in Scottsdale history known as the Safari. "At that time, there was no place to stay in Scottsdale six months out of the year," explained Safari co-founder Bill Ritter in the 1990’s. The resorts didn't have any air conditioning; they were only open in the winter. The Safari was something that was sorely needed."

Ritter was right. In November of 1956, the Safari opened to crowds who gladly drove those fourteen miles from Phoenix to see what all the fuss was about at the new desert oasis called the Safari Hotel. They weren’t disappointed as they saw a 108 room luxury resort with fine dining, dancing, shopping, salons, a cocktail lounge, and even a radio station all tied together within a jungle motif. Many visitors compared the Safari to the finest hotels on the Las Vegas Strip.

The fine dining restaurant was operated by noted restaurateur Paul Shanks. A look at an early menu lists a “man sized” filet for $5.95, chateaubriand for two for $14.50, and steak and lobster for $5.50. Would you like a nice martini with that? They were eighty-five cents! Remember, this was 1956.

IS THAT A 1961 OLDSMOBILE IN FRONT?

Everyone went to the Safari whether they were local or from out of town. The Boston Red Sox and the Baltimore Orioles stayed there during spring training. It wasn’t uncommon to see movie stars of the day like Robert Taylor, Bing Crosby, Burt Reynolds, and Fred MacMurray. The twenty-four hour coffee shop was a good place for star gazing and in 1961, TV stars Martin Milner and George Maharis filmed an episode of their show “Route 66” at the Safari.

Unfortunately, by the late 1990’s the Safari had lost its luster to changing tastes and new competition. It was soon demolished and will probably be eventually replaced by an apartment high rise. The cocktail crowd has moved on and mention of the Safari will only bring quizzical looks from a younger generation.

Welcome to 21st century Scottsdale.

The thrill is gone

Of all the amusement parks in the New York area, the Palisades Park, located near the George Washington Bridge, was my favorite. To get there from Hoboken, I took the No. 22 Public Service Bus from the corner of 14th and Washington Street. The bus meandered through Weehawken, Gutenberg, North Bergen, and Cliffside Park, taking at least an hour and a half to reach its destination. On hot, muggy days, this ride was miserable. Exhaust fumes would fill the bus as it made innumerable stops along the way. Once you entered the park, you forgot about the long journey.

Joe Finnerty

Palisades Park featured a magnificent swimming pool. A sandy beach area bordered the shallow end. On opening day in 1942, I fell asleep there and awoke, hours later, badly sunburned, fried red. My long history of skin cancer probably began with this day’s exposure.

At the deep end of the pool, water flowed down a wall painted to resemble a mountain waterfall. Here, divers could choose from a number of boards, which varied in spring and elevation. The highest one stood about ten feet high. The first time I jumped off, it seemed more like a hundred.
My brother took me to this pool often. He could dive beautifully. His repertoire included swan dives, back dives, inward dives, jack knives, and a half-gainer, his best. He would spring straight up off the end of that ten-foot board, arching his back as if he was going to do a swan dive, but then he would twist a half turn, and pierce the water perfectly, his pointed toes seemingly glued together. He made me feel proud but envious, as my diving skill never came close to matching his.

My favorite ride, The Virginia Reel, featured an open, circular car in which as many as eight riders could sit. Each person would grip the peripheral handrail to keep from spinning off the seat. A cable pulled the car up a track to the top of the ride where it entered a building through swinging doors. At that point, the car began its descent, spinning clockwise and pitching over at an angle of ten or twenty degrees, then suddenly reversing both direction and rotation. The car would swerve, reeling, back and forth six or eight times before hurtling out at the bottom through another pair of swinging doors. The enclosed surrounding helped to magnify the riders screams and yells of delight and fright.

One day an Orthodox Jewish man, his son and daughter sat in the car with my brother and me. As the car spun, the man lost his grip, slid off the seat and wound up sitting in the center pit on top of our feet. "Get up, papa!" implored his kids. "I can't!" He was laughing. The man was having the ride of his life, enjoying his misfortune, but his kids were embarrassed. My brother and I howled with joy.

The Fun House, with its crooked floors, crazy mirrors, and room mazes, made for great entertainment. Teenagers loved this place as much as the Tunnel of Love, and for the same reason. Kissing abounded within its crooked walls.

The roller coaster was exciting to ride, never more so than the day Jimmy Kennedy and I rode together, seated in the first car. When we reached the bottom of the first incline the hold-down bar across our laps accidentally unlatched, causing us to pitch forward. We were lucky not to have fallen out.

Candied red apples, bumper cars, a shooting gallery, Palisades Park had it all and it always remained my favorite venue, but it did not enjoy a monopoly. There were other amusement parks at Rye Beach, Rockaway Beach, and of course, Coney Island.

In 1943, Red Burke, Eddie Anderson and Jimmy Kennedy joined with me to spend an entire day at Coney Island. Its Steeplechase Park featured wooden horses on which patrons could ride around an elevated track. The feature attraction was the famous Parachute Drop, brought in from the World’s Fair of 1939. Riders were lifted up to the top of the structure, then allowed to free-fall for a short distance until the parachute swelled out to slow their descent. It made my heart skip a beat the first time I dropped from the sky.

Steeplechase Park was also famous for its Fun House. One of its features included an array of spinning barrels you could walk through if you could manage to keep your balance. A slide carried riders on protective mats down to a flat surface where six or eight rotating wheels sent them spinning first in one direction and then the other. On this particular day, I forgot to take an orange out of my pocket beforehand. It squashed during the ride and left me icky-sticky for the rest of the day.

A clown, equipped with an electric prod, would zap people occasionally. By threatening to prod them, he would maneuver girls to stand over a small hole in the floor. He would then direct an air jet from below, blowing their skirts up, amid squeals and laughter.

Some movies have included scenes of Steeplechase Park, including one made in 1937 called, A Damsel in Distress. It featured Fred Astaire, George Burns and Gracie Allen. They tap danced through a spinning barrel before sliding onto the rotating disks. From my experience, they could have squeezed more fun out of the finale had they thought to place a few oranges in their pockets.

Palisades Park is no more, Coney Island still exists, but it is far less amusing.

Teen-age girls do not wear dresses anymore and the clown left town. So did I.

Notice to Indians: "Shut up!"

If there is one thing we have too much of in this country other than liberal Democrats, it is complainers. Now the Indians (Oh, excuse me! “Native Americans”) are on the warpath again complaining about the bin Laden raid being known by the code name “Geronimo”. These guys really need to take a step back and realize what they are b-itchin-g about. What’s the difference if we referred to bin Laden as Jesus Christ, Geronimo, or Joe Smith? The fact is we really pulled one off by getting to the rat and blowing his head off. This isn’t a time to worry about semantics. It’s a time to praise the mission and the Navy SEALS who participated.

Sensitivities have gotten out of hand. It seems like everyone has an agenda for political correctness. I don’t care what anyone says, the guy who brings my mail is still a “mailman” and will never be a “person-person.” Sorry, ladies, you came aboard too late.

As far as the Indians, they have done pretty well changing our culture to fit their needs. They have had many colleges change their nicknames and mascots because they felt Indian references were demeaning. My favorite is the genius who in 1994 forced St. John’s University in New York to change their name from “Redmen” to the “Red Storm.” The thought was that “Redmen” was demeaning to the Indian culture. Guess what, Cochise? “Redmen” referred to the color of the athletic uniforms the school wore. It had nothing to do with Native Americans. Maybe a little research might help next time!

Cesar Geronimo

Currently residing in the Dominican Republic and retired at age 63 is one of my all time favorite baseball players. He played in the major leagues from 1969 until 1983 with his best years spent playing for the Cincinnati Reds. His name is Cesar GERONIMO and so far I haven’t heard one complaint by him about the use of his name in reference to bin Laden. My guess is that since he had a lucrative career in baseball that probably allows him to sit on the beach and enjoy Margaritas during his retirement, he is more than happy to salute the country that brought down one of the worst rats in history.

Maybe when the Indians in the US look at the millions they are getting from their casinos, they should reconsider their complaints about the use of Geronimo and issue an apology. Remember, guys. You were on bin Laden’s list too! We’re waiting……

College degree no longer easy ticket to job

I recently read an interesting column by Kim Palmer of the Minneapolis Star-Tribune regarding the difficulty new college grads have finding jobs.

As an example, one male student with an engineering degree was profiled. He graduated from Colorado State University a year ago and has yet to find a job even after 200 interviews. He says the problem isn’t necessarily a lack of jobs so much as the number of people applying for them. In his case he is a rookie having to interview against experienced engineers who are out of work and desperate enough to take entry level positions. As a result, the kid has to live in the basement of his parent’s home hoping that something comes along so he can get some income and his own place.

Young student studying for her college degree. Will she be able to get a job? (Boston College)

He is not alone with his situation. Incomes have fallen, jobs are scarce, and many recent grads are buried in debt from their college expenses. I did a couple blogs over the last few years about college expenses and it surprised me what it costs to go to a school like Arizona State University. Credit hour costs are in the $400-$500 range and keep increasing. When I was in college in the 1960’s, that kind of money would cover my tuition for a full load of courses for the entire semester and leave enough for some beers.

As far as job availability, I took my Bachelor of Arts degree to several interviews after graduation and within five or six weeks had a sales job with a national company with good pay for the time and the free use of a company car. I’m not boasting since almost everyone who had a degree in those days had a ticket to the front of the job line. I was no exception and I took advantage of the situation. I shutter when I think of the poor grads today not being able to find jobs plus being buried in debt.

Palmer reports that the Economic Policy Institute says that “as of 2009, 37% of 18 to 29 year olds were unemployed, the highest share in four decades.” This has caused a migration of kids back to their parent’s homes but unlike the baby boomers of past generations where kids couldn’t get away from their parents soon enough, many kids returning home today enjoy having the amenities their parents can provide. Plus, some parents are glad to take them back in but many shake their heads in wonderment over whether their kids will ever hit the highway on their own.

I’ve never had children so I can’t comment much on the legitimacy of kids wanting to return to the nest but I never was in a situation where I had the problems of the kids today with finding employment. It’s obviously a difficult situation.