Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Tuesday Update - View From The Second Story


(This reunion stuff is getting crazy.  Just before my 50th high school reunion, I got an E-mail from 
Classmates.com, a reunion web site which allows people to find each other from the past.  About 20 years ago I was remembering my bandmates from a rockandroll foursome we had in 1968 while in the Air Force, in Lubbock, Texas, of all places.  I began an Internet search in all the usual places, but finding Billy Martin (lead guitar) and Ken Watts (bass) who were both from somewhere in New York, turned out to be ridiculous.  My only good lead was Paul Bessette, our drummer, who I remembered was from Plainfield, Connecticut.  Well, there were quite a few Paul Bessettes in Plainfield, but none fit the right age group.  Then I remembered that Paul went to the same base in Vietnam where I was about a year earlier, so I went to Classmates and found the Bein Hoa AB, 1968-69 site, and there was his name.  I left him a message to contact me, and heard nothing from him for another 15 years.  Apparently Paul never got back on Classmates, a web site that requires yearly dues to stay current.  Until a couple weeks ago.  Within 24 hours after receiving the E-mail, Paul and I were on the phone for the first time in 46 years, talking for over two hours one night, reliving many wonderful memories.  A few days later Paul, now living in Las Vegas, Nevada, called and said he had found Ken Watts, living in Queens, New York, and he set up a three-way phone link which led to another couple hours of reminiscing.  We have yet to find the elusive Billy Martin, but Ken said he would try to track him down.  Billy, are you out there?  By the way, the band's name was The Second Storymen, and we were damn good, rock-and-roll-wise.  We were so popular that one night, at a venue we were performing at in Clovis, New Mexico, the place was so packed the fire marshall had decreed that no more people were to be allowed inside.  Unfortunately we had just arrived, and it took us several minutes before we finally were able to convince the authorities that we were the band.  Some day I'll tell you some more stories of the Storymen.  But for now, I digress ...)
  • Remember the American Family Association?  We've talked about  these idiots before, it's one of those terribly conservative anally religious Christian groups, dedicated to opposing most everything - abortion, gay rights, evolution, global warming, intellectuals, etc.  Well, it seems the demented people at the AFA have their collective panties in a bunch over a new postage stamp just issued by the U.S. Postal Department.  Yep, a stamp.  You see the stamp has a picture of Harvey Milk on it.  Harvey Milk, if you remember, was the first openly gay person to be elected to public office in California in 1977.  He and San Francisco Mayor George Moscone were shot and killed by former city supervisor Dan White, a year later.  And of course, the tiny minded bible-thumpers at the AFA can't allow something like a picture of a dead gay person on a postage stamp!  Mark Morford explains the rest of this incredible story in "How To Live Wretched and Small."
  • And speaking of the religious right, I just love it when they start trying to explain that sex is bad.  Particularly when it comes to those horrible satanists at Planned Parenthood.  For example, did you know that Planned Parenthood is trying to get your kids "hooked" on sex?  Yes indeedy.  Oh, and there's more.  Check out "5 Crazy Myths About Sex From the Religious Right."
  • So what's going on here in these old United States?  Is it me, or does it seem like police officers are getting trigger happy?  I watched a video the other day of an obviously mentally disturbed young black man, who had just shoplifted two cans of soda from a convenience store, being approached by two police officers on a sidewalk.  The unarmed young man walked directly toward the officers, ignoring their commands to halt, and the officers suddenly opened fire, shooting the man five times.  As he then lay on the sidewalk bleeding to death, the officers handcuffed him.  Justified?  Were their tasers in for repair?  Then there's this Michael Brown case.  Brown's funeral was yesterday, in a suburb of St. Louis, Missouri, attended by the rich, famous, and talkative.  At first glance it appeared that Brown was murdered by white officer Darren Wilson on August 9th.  Again, Brown was unarmed at the time, and by some witnesses accounts, had his hands raised in surrender.  But then a video was produced by the police department showing Brown stealing a box of cigars and bullying a shopkeeper, just minutes before the confrontation that led to his death.  The New York Times even suggested that Brown "was no angel."  Well, who is?  I can only imagine what someone could dig up on me out of my past if I were to be shot dead by a policeman.  What does that have to do with anything? What the hell's going on?
  • The price of California wine will probably be going up after Sunday's 6.0 magnitude earthquake that struck the Napa area north of San Francisco.  Apparently one could hear glass bottles shattering all the way down to Marin County.  Of course we, and those crazy Californians especially, are wondering if this was a precursor to "The Big One," the 8.0+ quake that's been promised for a hundred years or more.  No one knows for sure, but if I was living down around the San Francisco area right now I think I'd take the hint and pack up and move back to Oregon.  I'm just sayin' ...
  • And Texas Governor Rick Perry was recently indicted for some silliness regarding politics, and although it brings big grins to Liberals everywhere, we're afraid it may actually help this idiot to get his name back in the spotlight.  The charges sound flimsy at best, and Perry's lawyers will undoubtedly beat the charges, which will also make him look good.  Governor Perry, actually slightly dumber than George W. Bush, still would love to be president, in spite of his disastrously embarrassing previous campaign.
  • Four more days until the first Duck Football game of the year.  It's been a terribly long summer.  Go Ducks!

Thursday, August 21, 2014

Reunion

(As some of you may have noticed, we here at Bad Hat have been on vacation for the summer.  That's right, the staff and management just up and decided to take some time off, but we've now decided to get back into it.  Before we get into any political updates, allow me to share with you a remarkable event I recently experienced, an event that happens only once in a person's life.  My 50th High School Reunion.)

 I don't know why I torture myself with these high school reunions.  I graduated from South Eugene High School in 1964, a clean shaven, naive, slightly uptight young man with a severe attitude problem, hell-bent to somehow change the world.  I attended the University of Oregon for a brief time before deciding I knew everything I needed to know, then I set sail onto the river of life to find my adventures.  But Uncle Sam and Lyndon Johnson decided that my adventure would involve the adventure of Vietnam and four years in service of my country, and when I got home after that, with new wife in tow, I was a changed man.

I didn't attend my 10th Reunion.  In 1974 I had just discovered sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll, and besides, I was sure that all of my classmates were fine upstanding wealthy citizens, and I would be trampled underfoot like some prairie dog in a herd of horses.  I did, however, go to the 20th Reunion.  It was quite nice to see everyone again, and although I could sense that some of us were jockeying for position of better-than-thou, most of us just seemed happy to be there.  One of the best things that happened during that particular reunion was that I spoke to my former girlfriend, Suzanne, for the first time in almost 17 years. She was married, had children, and brought her husband along with her, so I got to meet him too.  It was excruciatingly painful, but to my credit, instead of wailing and beating my chest, I just smiled.

I attended several more reunions, and each one I went to seemed to be slightly better than the one before it.  I think that phenomena was caused by the fact that we were all growing older together, and the natural need to impress each other was fading with each advancing year.  Perhaps that's why I believe the 50th was the best reunion so far.

The reunion committee put together a photo presentation consisting of pictures of Eugene from the 1960's, along with pictures of the graduates from then and from previous reunions.  It was fascinating to watch us all grow up and older, and there were squeals of delight from the attendees over many of the pictures of old Eugene.  When watching something like that, there are two things that amaze:  How many things you've forgotten, and how many things you remember.  This reunion was held at a large ritzy hotel here in Eugene, called The Valley River Inn.  At my table, as I sat eating prime rib, our good friend Arthur, who promises to begin contributing his sage words of wisdom here at Bad Hat again, sat on my left.  On my right, sat the very lovely Suzanne, who left her husband at home this time.  For just a few moments the years were washed away, and our whole lives were once again ahead of us, and there were many more adventures to come.

JP