Monday, February 23, 2009

SIC SEMPER TYRANNIS !

On February 12, 2009, the 200th anniversary of the birth of nation's greatest president came...and if you blinked...you missed it. FAMOUS FOR HONESTY, INTEGRITY & APPRECIATION FOR HUMAN RIGHTS.

This past week, on two separate lists, (CSPAN and US Historians Association), Abraham Lincoln, based on ten factors, was voted as our greatest president. I hope you know enough about his legacy to our country to appreciate him...or you take the time to find out (re-find out) the depth of his intelligence, patriotism, fairness and vision. Because today's column will take you down a Lincoln road less traveled.

Let's start with the root of Lincoln's assassination by para-phrasing Frances McDormand's last line, in the next to last scene in the movie "FARGO." "You did this for a little money?"

IN 1909, TO HONOR THE 100th ANNIVERSARY OF LINCOLN'S BIRTH, HIS IMAGE REPLACED THE INDIAN-HEAD ON THE PENNY.

During the Civil War Abraham Lincoln created our country's first unified currency (money) and backed it up with the federal government. He did this because banknotes (paper money) were being issued by individual banks. Among the countless problems created by thousands of banks printing their own bills...counterfeiting was number one.

Oddly, the national currency had the opposite affect, it fell under less scrutiny and gave rise to counterfeiting because people accepted the government issued money with a false sense of security. After the Civil War, Chicago was a hot-bed for counterfeiters. To combat this, an elite police corps was created and dubbed, "The Secret Service." One of their biggest arrests was the expert engraver of saloon owner, James Kinealy's gang...that arrest will lead to the crazy and oft forgotten story of what happened to Abraham Lincoln...after his assassination.

Earlier, during the Civil War, both sides routinely exchanged prisoners of war. Somewhere along the line, then General Ulysses S. Grant recognized the overwhelming advantage the North had over the South in terms of raw man-power. Therefore in simple mathematical terms, to maximize that advantage, this one-for-one prisoner exchange program was stopped.

Soon there after, John Wilkes Booth a renown stage actor and staunch Southern sympathizer hatched a plan to personally kidnap Lincoln! The next phase of his plan was to hold the President as hostage until a vast number of Confederate prisoners were released. On April 11, 1865, he heard Lincoln give an impromptu speech promoting the idea of voting rights for Black people. Booth became incensed and changed the goal of his plot. Being an extreme egotism and a sex-symbol of his time, he wasn't satisfied with making just the ladies swoon...the "improved" plan fell into line with his hope to be remembered globally and throughout history.

We all now know how Booth changed his plan. At Ford's Theater, to mask the sound of his Derringer's single shot, he waited for the line, "You sock-dologizing old man trap" (the biggest laugh in the play, "MY AMERICAN COUSIN)." After his bullet blasted through the back of Lincoln's head, Booth leaped from the presidential box and shouted, "Sic semper tyrannis!" Latin for: Thus always to tyrants! Which had been attributed to Brutus at Caesar's assassination and is the Virginia state motto.

The bizarre part of this story begins at Oak Ridge Cemetery. While still in shock, the nation mourned its first assassinated president. However, the city planners in Springfield, Illinois have a different problem...where to bury Lincoln. Because no one could anticipate his pre-mature demise...there was no way possible to produce (literally over night) a suitable memorial to house the savior of the American union.

Lincoln would be temporary buried while the monument was being built. We will soon find out that the monument itself would not be his final resting place either.

LINCOLN MONUMENT ADORNED BY A 117-FOOT OBELISK AND SEVERAL BRONZE STATUES.

Eleven years later in Chicago, the Kinealy counterfeiting gang was suffering from having its engraver in prison. That is when Kinealy together with his partner Jack Hughes came up with the idea to steal (kidnap) Lincoln's remains from its "permanent" crypt in order to hold it for $100,000.00 ransom...plus the release of their engraver.

Kinealy and Hughes hired a stranger who claimed to be a specialist in grave-robbing as well as his friend as a second henchmen. The four-man team took the train to Springfield. Posed as visiting tourists, they "cased" the memorial and asked enough crucial questions of the curator to learn where all the accesses were, that there was no night-watchman and that after-hours, a single chained padlock would separate them from the sarcophagus that held Lincoln's coffin.

On the evening of Election Day 1876, away from the hoopla in town surrounding the presidential race between Rutherford B. Hayes and Samuel Tilden, Kinealy, Hughes and the grave-robber (the other man tended to the horse and wagon) sawed through the lock's hasp. They pried open the white marble lid. But inside, the 500-pound, lead-lined coffin was firmly wedged in. Kinealy decided to saw-off the front of the sarcophagus. When the coffin was free, the third man was told to summon the fourth. There was no way Kinealy knew, but his gang had been infiltrated by Secret Service agents, (the grave-robber and his friend). Moreover, a team of additional agents (already on the grounds), had followed them from Chicago.

The password "wash" was given as a signal to close-in, but in the dark, in a comedy of errors, the police got into a shoot-out with themselves. The two hoodlums temporarily escaped back to Chicago but this story stays in the cemetery. After everyone was gone, the curator was left alone with the foot of Lincoln's sarcophagus cut away and in plain sight...with part of the casket sticking out...just hours before tourists would start coming.

The curator gathered some trusted friends and together carried the casket to the basement of the shrine. They tried to dig a grave in the earthen basement floor. But the monument was built on porous blue clay in an area with a high water table...their attempts quickly flooded. With no time to waste, wooden slats were placed under the coffin and scraps of wood was placed on top to mask its identity. The curator and his friends formed a society that pledged itself to the preservation of Lincoln's image yet the coffin covered by junk remained there (undisturbed for two years).

Visitors were still viewing an empty tomb even when Lincoln's wife Mary died. To avoid embarrassment, the society found a dry spot in that cellar and buried the couple side-by-side. However, because the monument was built so quickly, its design had many flaws. It became so costly to keep making repairs that engineers were called in and it was determined that the entire memorial was not safe and that it could collapse. The monument had to be dis-assembled and rebuilt. The Lincoln's were exhumed and re-temporarily interred until their new final resting place...dug into bedrock was built. In 1901, at the behest of the their surviving son Robert, (to prevent vandalism), the Lincoln's, along with their three other sons, were entombed in a steel cage and encased forever , ten-feet underground, in concrete. In all, Abe Lincoln's "final" resting place was moved ten times.

All that for a little money.

Speaking of a little money, this year to honor Lincoln, the U. S. mint has come up with four new designs for the reverse side of the penny.

STARTING FEBRUARY 12, 2009, THE U. S. MINT WILL RELEASE FOUR NEW TAILS SIDES TO THE LINCOLN PENNY EVERY THREE MONTHS. #1, (far right) LINCOLN'S KENTUCKY LOG CABIN, #2, LINCOLN AS A RAIL-SPLITTER IN INDIANA, #3, LINCOLN AT THE ILLINOIS STATEHOUSE, #4, (far left) DURING LINCOLN'S PRESIDENTIAL ADMINISTRATION, THE NATION'S PARTIALLY COMPLETED CAPITOL BUILDING IN WASHINGTON D. C..
What I hope you haven't been waiting for was...an April 23, 1991 commemoration for the 200th anniversary of our fifteenth President James Buchanan's birth...
LOOK FOR THE NEW PRESIDENTIAL SERIES OF ONE-DOLLAR COINS THAT WILL COMMEMORATE ALL OF OUR EXECUTIVES INDIVIDUALLY. SO FAR I BELIEVE THEY ARE UP TO ANDREW JACKSON SO BUCHANAN'S WILL BE ISSUED SOON. AND YOU THOUGHT HIS PORTRAIT HAD AS MUCH CHANCE TO APPEAR ON MONEY AS CHARLES MANSON !


...you want to know why you can stop waiting ...because Buchanan came in dead last in both greatest president lists.

Monday, February 16, 2009

YOUR MOTHER RIDES SHOTGUN ON RUBY'S KNISH WAGON !

A knish (KEH-nish) or (k'nish) is most known as a kosher delicatessen side dish or eat-on-the-run fast food. Equally popular round or square, this individual serving of fried or baked dough stuffed with filling (usually potato) is said to have been introduced in the U. S. by Yiddish speaking Polish refugees, circa 1916. The Polish spelling: (knysz).

These days, knishes are available, from various distributors, at all the local South Jersey supermarkets.

I slather mine with spicy deli mustard, plenty of pepper and a dash of salt. I'm certain Iowans would use mayonnaise...but there really is no right or wrong way to eat them.
STOCK PHOTO OF KNISHES...UNFORTUNATELY THESE DON'T LOOK LIKE KNISHES...FROM THIS SHOT, THEY COULD BE ANYTHING.

In my old Brooklyn neighborhood, Canarsie, a man named Ruby used to peddle knishes from a pushcart. My earliest recollection of Ruby the Knish Man was in 1963. It was my first year of Hebrew school and even to a less than sophisticated eight year-old like me, the concept of a pushcart was associated with the Depression and was as dated as spats!
RUBY'S KNISH WAGON LOOKED LIKE IT PRE-DATED CRO-MAGNUM MAN AND UP CLOSE, HIS FACE LOOKED LIKE IT PRE-DATED DINOSAURS. (OUTSIDE TILDEN H. S. 1967).

It is difficult for me to tell one specific Ruby story because I never had a single defining moment with him. I just have my own random memories and those shared with me by friends. If you go to one of the "RUBY THE KNISH MAN" web-sites, www.angelfire.com/co/cascole/ruby.html you'll get more of a feeling of how he became, A MAN, A MYTH AND A LEGEND...in Canarsie, throughout Brooklyn, the Catskill Mountains, possibly Florida if he ever actually went with his wife...and beyond.

THE MAN - Ruby's last name was Oshinsky and I assume his first name was Ruben but with the tons of cyber-information about him...his full name could not be verified. Born January 3, 1917, Ruby died October 9, 1987. He was brought-up in Williamsburg and lived in various Brooklyn "hot-spots" like Brownsville and East New York before settling in Canarsie.
While in the army, he served active combat duty during WWII. A family member on the web-page said that Ruby was used to interrogate German prisoners.

THE MYTH - Nobody should believe ANY Ruby stories because they are far-fetched and are the forty-year old sentimental recollections of grown-ups strolling down the Memory Lane of childhood. I went to that web-page (see above) and read at least a hundred Ruby testimonials until I came across similar stories to my own. As hard as it might be to believe...I'd say nearly ALL those tales are true.

THE LEGEND - Prior to the computer age, the Ruby saga was handed down from generation to generation. It seemed his life could only be fiction and more specifically that of a cartoon character. But now, people who have been telling Ruby the Knish Man stories can prove their case by referring to web-sites, see photos or read the anecdotes of his legions.
Even ten years before his death, Ruby's leathery face, exposed to forty years of harsh year-round outdoor elements and cooked by the constant heat coming up at him from his rolling oven, eventually resembled a knish. Maybe he was a cartoon character after all. And if he was...he was a super-
hero...well, a flawed super-hero.
NOBODY GOT INSULTED WHEN SOMEONE SAID, "YOUR MOTHER RIDES SHOT-GUN ON RUBY'S KNISH WAGON." (JOHN WILSON JUNIOR HIGH, EARLY 70's).

My walk from elementary school to Hebrew school was four long city blocks and four short ones. I would arrive for my religious training tired and hungry. Ruby the Knish Man was a fixture out front. Steadfastly, he stood at his cart purveying his wares which consisted of two choices; a knish stuffed with potato or kasha. Maybe because the belly of his cart housed a burning charcoal hearth, there were no secondary items, no drinks, cookies, candy or gum...just knishes.

To us kids, a big part of Ruby's allure was his sense of humor. He liked to make fun of his limited menu and on many occasions he would respond to the question, "What do you have today?" By saying, "I got patata or kasha." And the customer would say, "I'll have kasha." And Ruby would say, "Only got patata."

Back then my problem was, by 3:30PM, I needed something to tide me over between lunch and dinner. I kept hearing how great the knishes were and how funny Ruby was. Since I was usually penniless, I was intimidated to even approached him...Ruby the Knish Man had become my personal Oz . Maybe it was the frugality of my parents or they didn't think their pre-pubescent punk could handle the responsibility of having some chump change in his pocket, (Ruby's knishes were 15c at the time) or...and I think this is the most accurate, I wasn't clever enough to ask my folks for money.
It wasn't until I finally had some cash that I even stepped up to the wagon. The cart as shown above had two items on top; a dented metal salt shaker from the year "1"and a crusty lipped, open jar of spicy brown deli mustard, (it should be noted that a raw wooden stick was used to spread the mustard on the knishes and the jar that was refilled by a commercial economy-sized container that was left out...exposed to the weather everyday of the year).

The rest of the show was Ruby. In a combination of boredom and salesmanship, Ruby would call out certain funny phrases as well as some that were risque...still others were out and out dirty. When I consider the limited foul language I came in contact with (my mother's lady friend three doors down not withstanding), it felt like Ruby was letting us kids in on a taste of manhood.
My mother soon forbid me to eat Ruby's knishes. However, those were rebellious times for me and I refused to believe what my mother said about the cleanliness of his enterprise. Recently, I caught my mom off-guard and asked her what she remembered about Ruby. In no uncertain terms she told me the exact same things she told me over forty years ago..."His hands are filthy," "On cold days, he wipes his nose before 'handing' the knish over" and "he uses the mustard stick to clean-out under his fingernails."

I was about ten when I started noticing that mom was right. As many of you know, I'm easily skeeved therefore Ruby's health habits might be the very source of my food phobia, (yes I am a walking contradiction...I still love Sabrett's 'dirty-water' hot dogs). Even though I cut the dining with Ruby aspect out of my life at an early age, I remained a lifelong fan of his schtick. It should be noted that--I never swore-off knishes (sanitary ones) , I still love 'em...just never forget, Ruby's tasted the best.

Ruby was around way before I knew him. He was hawking knishes as early as the mid-fifties. His history suggests that he took over his father's operation. When I first knew of him...to get around...he drove his pushcart, upright, in the trunk of his car. He was so noticeable in my native Canarsie that I was surprised to read how far beyond our borders he went. A one man gang...he was omnipresent...schools, parks, Canarsie Pier, seemingly everywhere in town. But in reality, he was everywhere else too!

According to his biography, he bought a van in 1969 and at that point he diversified his merchandise by adding; pretzels, soda and candy. I remember him using a bull-horn to announce that "RUBY THE KNISH MAN IS HERE" or "THE DINING ROOM IS NOW OPEN!" or "ONLY A FEW MORE HUNDRED (KNISHES) LEFT." He'd park that van and roll that same old cart down a homemade ramp (which makes me think, how did he ever get the cart in and out of the old car's trunk...I told you he was a legend).

In the summer when school was closed and city-people went on vacation...Ruby took his delectables to the Catskill Mountains in upstate New York. Like an ice-cream man with a bull-horn instead of a bell, he'd cruise the Borscht-Belt hotels and nearby bungalow colonies. I'd say this added exposure beyond Brooklyn, sped-up his worldwide appeal.

When you consider that the knish is an ethnic-specific food, my claim of Ruby's universality might seem exaggerated. So as a test, I name-dropped Ruby the Knish Man to fellow Brooklynite MSLEMMA. He grew up in predominately Italian Bensonhurst, on the other side of Brooklyn. He never heard of Ruby the Knish Man but when I described him he said, "Sounds like this knucklehead who sold pretzels and candy from a very old, beat-up blue van." It was Ruby. My friend went on to mention the unsanitary conditions his pretzel-guy worked under. He also pointed-out that by today's standards there would be no way he could legally drive a van with (what he perceived to be) an open fire lit in his cart.

Apparently Ruby, the ingenious businessman knew his demographics and de-emphasized the knishes in non-Jewish areas.

At one point in my life, I wondered how Ruby succeeded...selling his inexpensive goods for a few cents at a time. Maybe he was wholesaling ten-thousand knishes a day or taking numbers on the side, loan-sharking or selling drugs...but he wasn't. All accounts were he was just a hard working stiff who loved his family and in a strangely normal way...loved kids too.

I left Brooklyn in 1979. At some point before I left, Ruby would drop-off his old pushcart and a very old man would emerge from the van to sell knishes for him...my friends and I made jokes about buying a Ruby subsidiary or a franchise territory.

After I left town, I understand that Ruby rented a store and called it "MOTHER'S KNISHES." So I guess after he dropped his "worker" off, he went back to the shop. Is it possible that Ruby, the man, the myth, the legend had lured his own father out of a "temporary" twenty-year retirement from the knish peddling game? It certainly is possible because I once got close enough to hear that old man squawk-out one of Ruby's famous lines, "Fresh hot knishes...homogenized, pasteurized and circumcised."

Monday, February 9, 2009

OUR PRESIDENTS AND THEIR WACKY KINFOLK !

Whose quote is this?  I'll give you a hint first, President's Day is right around the corner.

"Beer is not a good cocktail party drink especially in a home where you don't know where the bathroom is?"

William was born March 29, 1937. He attended Emory University in Atlanta Georgia but never graduated. He seemed more comfortable working on his family's farm or at his filling station...and succeeded in leading an anonymous, red-neck lifestyle until 1976. He saw an opportunity to cash-in on his family name and ran for mayor of his hometown, Plains Georgia, (if you were living in the 70's or CAN read, you should have enough clues now, to solve this riddle).

Politics were not in William's future. Despite having one of the most famous brothers on the planet, he managed to lose the mayoral bid in his tiny town. What could possibly have gotten in his way? Mostly, William's own townspeople recognized that he wasn't experienced as a municipal leader. But even those who overlooked that shortcoming and chose to ignore the obvious nepotism...still couldn't help but see him for the beer guzzling, uncouth do-nothing lout that he was.

So where does somebody with those qualifications turn to capitalize on being our thirty-ninth president's kid-brother? William turned to the right "party"...the Pearl Brewing Company of San Antonio Texas. The brewery's publicity department played-off President Jimmy Carter's good name and made William into a household name...bordering on superstar.

William Alton Carter III, affectionately called "Billy," became the inspiration for and lead endorser of the product that bears his name...BILLY BEER !

BILLY CARTER'S COLORFUL GOOD 'OLE BOY IMAGE MADE HIM A NATURAL BEER SPOKESPERSON.


The beer, bolstered by Billy's southern "charm" and his presidential link, made a positive fiscal debut. After a while the gimmicks wore thin and the beer drinking public started to notice that the beer didn't exactly taste good. The product fizzled even though Billy claimed to drink between 20 and 30 cans a day. Towards the end, Billy urinated on an airport runway in full view of the press on other dignitaries. Its unclear whether it was done to ignite sales or was simply stupidity...in any event Billy Beer was gone soon there after.

Billy Beer may have vanished from store shelves but Billy Carter was still in the national spotlight AND was not done embarrassing himself or his brother. During 1978, he was involved in what later became known as "BILLYGATE." At a time when the United States had strained relations with Libya, Billy visited there three times. He registered himself as a U. S. foreign agent of Libya and received a $220,000.00 loan. In 1979, these dealings led to a senate hearing and allegations of influence pedaling.

Billy's life was spiraling out of control in the eighties. He became a punchline for political jokes and his name was frequently used in gag answers for the TV game show, "MATCH GAME." Soon he was pressured by the IRS to pay back taxes and was forced to sell his house.

William Alton "Billy" Carter III was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in 1988. He accepted treatment but died September 25th of that year. He was fifty-one.

Other recent presidents have had family liabilities like; Barack Obama's half-brother was arrested January 31, 2009 in Nairobi Kenya for possession of cannabis. And Bill Clinton's half-brother was arrested for selling cocaine and was later involved in brokering presidential pardons.

Those guys could never compete with Billy Carter's outlandish behavior. But over time, Billy couldn't continue to outdo his own hi-jinx and became a characterization of himself. His oddness was so expected that it became mundane and soon he was so irrelevant...even the paparazzi stopped following him. Perhaps he was just ahead of his time. If he was around today, he'd probably find fame and fortune with Larry the Cable-Guy on the "BLUE COLLAR COMEDY TOUR."
BILLY CARTER IN HIS PRIME; IF YOU SQUINT, YOU CAN MAKE OUT THE SIGNS THAT LEAD TO THEIR BATHROOM !

I hope you haven't been hording Billy Beer for the last thirty years. Because those of you who expected to cash-in on the novelty and nostalgia of Billy Carter's name...should go check-out the Billy Beer prices on EBAY.
UNLESS YOU HAVE STASHED-AWAY ENOUGH TO GET RICH OFF A DOLLAR A CAN...YOU MIGHT BE QUITE DISAPPOINTED !

Funny how Billy Carter can take he starch out of President's Day.

Monday, February 2, 2009

MIRACLE SUMMER OF '69: The Time I Was Directly Addressed By Howard Cosell

The three and a half star movie, "AWAKENINGS," starring Robin Williams and Robert De Niro came out in 1990. If you overlook the slight bit of over-sentimentality...they added a romantic angle between the dedicated doctor and the lonely "Plain-Jane" nurse (Julie Kavner)...to make the movie more Hollywood-friendly (profitable). Otherwise this bittersweet tale was one of the great thought provoking films of our time.

The movie is based on the true story of Dr. Oliver Saks and his experiments with the drug; L-dopa, (he's named Dr. Malcolm Sayer in the story). Awakenings deals with a group of individuals victimized by an encephalitis epidemic. An unusual symptom left many of them in a catatonic state. Some of these people were "sleeping" for over thirty years.
DE NIRO AS PATIENT LEONARD LOWE AND WILLIAMS AS DR. SAYER .

Saks varied the dosage of L-dopa and finally achieved miraculous results as long-time zombies "awoke." After a "de-briefing" period, these people, with complete lucidity (under medical supervision) continued their lives. The deeper story involves how--after all they went through...they were still prisoners in the hospital. Soon the novelty of being alive wore-off and they wanted complete freedom. Without that freedom, the reality of their lost youth and faded opportunity became more powerful than their second chance.

The situation was emotionally difficult for Dr. Saks too. Saks was not equipped to handle their suffering and depression. Far worse, he couldn't prevent their ultimate, inexplicable return to catatonia. Oddly, after that summer of 1969, such acute recoveries were never again realized. Despite the positivism and endless possibilities of discoveries waiting to be found, this movie screamed out...(a quote from the film); "MIRACLES DON'T COME EASY!" Awakenings had to be a true story, because only real life could be that sad.

Throughout the movie, set against the atrocities and meaninglessness of the Vietnam War, there are subliminal suggestions of other miracles occurring that summer. If you are sharp, these messages can be heard on transistor radios, read from newspaper headlines or seen on TV's in the background.

These other miracles included: The weeks that led to the first lunar landing July 20, 1969.

NEIL ARMSTRONG'S ONE SMALL STEP WAS SO ABSTRACT THAT IT WAS CONSIDERED BY MANY TO BE AN IMPOSSIBILITY. EVEN TODAY, SOME SKEPTICS THINK IT WAS ALL STAGED, ON EARTH.

Through the efforts of NASA, the United States won the greatest prize of the space-race when it defeated the Russians by landing the Apollo-11 rocket and two astronauts, (Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin) on the moon. This miracle rallied Americans of all ages, religions and races as well as the rest of the world, to take pause of its enormity and the far-reaching possibilities for a brighter future. Along the way, this mission's progress was brought into our homes by the nightly news and its eventual victory was broadcasted on live TV. This mega-event came at a good time and was a refreshing contradiction to the negativity of Vietnam War coverage that dominated the airwaves.

The Woodstock Music and Art Festival...better known as Woodstock. Held August 15-18, 1969, in Bethel New York.

SUPPOSE THEY HAD A ROCK CONCERT AND HALF A MILLION PEOPLE SHOWED UP

Woodstock was the crowning testament of the 60's counterculture and the hippie-era. It proved-- that bonded by ROCK N' ROLL, a gazillion people could experience the moment and enjoy the show peacefully even under harsh conditions. Given the violence and death that occurred at similar, smaller, concerts...Woodstock was considered a miracle.

The world champions of Major League Baseball, the miraculous New York Mets of 1969.

THE METS WEREN'T MERELY UNDERDOGS THAT YEAR, THEY WERE THE LONG-STANDING EPITOME OF PITIFUL.

The lovable losers known as the New York Mets shocked the world in the summer of '69 by jumping out of their perenial basement position to over come the vaunted Chicago Cubs, sweep the iron-clad Atlanta Braves in the playoffs and defeat the heavily favored Baltimore Orioles in the World Series, four games to one.

The summer of 1969 was a great time in my life. I was maturing and getting ready to explore the fast-track to adulthood. But the truth is, I had no idea of Dr. Oliver Saks' miracle until the Awakenings movie came out 21 years later. Even with an older sister, Woodstock, and what it stood for went over my head at the time. When I saw the movie a year later, I'm sorry to admit, it still didn't register as anything significant.

I did follow and enjoy the events that led to landing our men on the moon. But I took it for granted. I was too young to understand how far we had come and the dangers involved. It just seemed like a perfectly natural progression.

In my opinion, the truly miraculous event that summer was...the Mets. To my 14 year-old mentality, having experienced their litany of ineptitude...just winning a few more than they lost was miracle enough. But as the summer wore on, my friends and I were permitted the autonomy to attend games unsupervised by adults. Geez, even the sharpest of my crowd was a knucklehead...nevertheless, armed with about $3.00 each, we navigated a city bus and three subway lines from Canarsie to Shea Stadium. A few of these jaunts, in groups of at least five, were to night games, (maybe our parents didn't realize that they were living in New York. Trust me, that was a miracle in itself that nothing happened to us because the subways are much safer now than they were then...moreover, I couldn't conceive of my son Andrew...he's the same age as I was...taking such trips).

To prove how childish my friends and I were, we came early to a game to watch batting practice. We snuck down from the general admission "nose-bleed" seats and positioned ourselves along the railing that separated the seats from the field to beg for autographs. That day I got Cubs back-up catcher Ken Rudolph's and I still have it.

We were between the visitor dug out and home plate when an ABC-TV-film crew set-up on the field in front of us. Soon, Hall-of Famers Ernie Banks and Billy Williams came onto the field with Howard Cosell. We were out of earshot from hearing the interview but we were clearly in the background of the shot. Being fluent, even at fourteen, at profanity, we lambasted the annoying Cosell with a barrage of caustic language. When the interview was over, Cosell causally took a few steps towards us and said something like this to me, "Don't hurry home to watch the 11 o'clock news tonight, because it'll be a miracle if we can that piece!"

I don't know when or if my "awakening" into maturity ever occurred. If it did, I guess you could say...miracles don't come easy.