Monday, June 23, 2008

RIGHTING A THREE-YEAR WRONG

Nobody we know got hurt, none of our possessions were lost and my family didn't waste any significant amount of money--yet our last trip to the Kings Dominion Amusement Park near Richmond Virginia, was probably the worst thing, we, as a group ever encountered.

Three years ago we were vacationing in Virginia and decided to make a side trip to Kings Dominion. It was a 90 minute drive...mostly south on interstate-95. I remember it was a marginal weather day and we were sweating it out that the rain would hold off. We must have wished to the right person because it indeed didn't rain BUT...

Twenty-five miles north of the park, in Fredricksburg Virginia we got caught in a traffic tie-up. What was so unusual was--we were at a complete stop. Occasionally we'd move up a few feet but there were other times, that I could have put the car in park.

This went on for over an hour with no end in sight. My son was eleven and anxious for a big day of fun...I gave him a lot of credit because he understood our plight and managed to make light of it. Finally in the distance we saw a temporary sign. It took an eternity to get close enough to read, "ALL VEHICLES MUST EXIT."

We had gone about five miles in two hours when we finally exited. Still we forged south on Highway-1 which ran parallel to 95. Unfortunately, we were competing with everyone else getting off the interstate--including eighteen wheelers. The little one-lane road couldn't accommodate that volume of traffic--so our predicament hadn't changed. We went another five miles in an hour and gave up at 2:30PM.

We made a U-Turn. In a strip-mall, we found a crumby Italian restaurant. The waitress told us that there was an auto accident that caused a truck hauling HAZ-MAT chemicals to crash. Acid spilled onto the roadway and burnt-off huge chunks of pavement.

For us, it was a waste of a day. Maybe if they had posted signage further north, alternate routes could have spaced the traffic better or given us the opportunity to turn around earlier. The Virginia Roads Department certainly had plenty of time to get the word out--that accident happened at 1:AM...ten hours earlier.

In the big picture, the story gets worse because at the time of the crash, innocent passersby stopped to help out. They were unaware of the great danger and stepped into the acid. Some of them were injured when their shoes melted.

In all, we went 10 miles in three plus hours...and the food stunk in that restaurant.

For three years I've been wanting to make-up for that fiasco. My opportunity came a few days ago so Andrew and I went and everything went RIGHT! It was 80 degrees and sunny, we found a supermarket with two-for-one discount tickets and the park was virtually empty, (impact of the price of gas)?

Kings Dominion has both dry rides and a waterpark. We hit the wet rides first. After a four-flight walk up, the ride called The Tornado put us together in a giant tube. We plunged straight down, into a four-story funnel on it side. Zooming down you climb the wall of the funnel, come down, up the far wall etc...great rush. We went twice...it had one of the few lines (15 minutes).

THE TORNADO.

YOU COME IN FROM ABOVE, CAREEN UP AND DOWN EACH SIDE WALL AND EMPTY THROUGH THE HOLE, (LOWER LEFT). ABOVE IS A FOUR-PERSON TUBE. THE PICTURE DOESN'T DO JUSTICE TO HOW FAST AND HIGH YOU GO.


Another water slide, we walked up a five story platform. You just lay on your back and speed through a blackened twisting tube like a human roller-coaster.

After a five other water rides, we had lunch. The pizza we got not only looked good but was tasty too. Unfortunately it laid in me and didn't agree with Andrew either.

We did a couple of roller-coasters and I knew I was done with them. Andrew seemed to be worse off. We concentrated on more mundane attractions and slower rides. We even had a blast in the Scooby-Doo Haunted House. While driving through the fun-house, it offered an inter-active target shooting game. 800 points was the beginning of the highest category, Andrew got a 1040, I got a 690. Then we went into the Action Theater and put on 3-D glasses to watch Sponge-Bob track down an escaped pickle. Don't laugh, this is the attraction where your seat gyrates and you seem to have a million near miss accidents plus, things like power saws buzz inches from your face.

Our day was winding down and Andrew was considering a last hurrah on the Volcano...a twisty upside roller-coaster.

I considered the 5-hour drive back to Jersey and said, "I don't want to take a chance on getting sick."

Andrew thought better of it and/or chickened-out.

Later, we saw what we thought was an exhibit called Paranormal Protection Agency. It had no line so off we went. In a warehouse-like building made to look like an Area-51 hangar you walk up to a flying saucer. We had no idea what we were in for as we continued up into the ship. Even inside, we had no idea. Up more steps into another room we finally heard the screams! We asked some guy on line and he said its a super fast indoor roller coaster. Andrew was spooked because the riders exit in another room and it gave the impression that they vanished.

The ride was FAST upside down, twisty etc. Andrew got off exhilarated, me...not so much. I really had to run to the bathroom and sit down. Afterwards, I still needed to sit still for another ten minutes. Like clockwork, when I said I was OK, it hit Andrew.

The park closed at 8. We were already in the car at 7:30. Andrew was still pukey so I suggested he close his eyes. Fifteen minutes later, he was asleep. My "wingman" woke-up about five times for a few seconds during the entire 5-hour trip.

The first time was a half hour in. Black clouds, NO very black clouds gathered in the distance. Soon extra large raindrops splattered the car. Within seconds the car plunged into a storm of biblical proportions. I had to turn on the hyper-speed wipers and they weren't getting the job done. Luckily there were few cars and everyone got down to about 20MPH. There was no thunder or lightning, no hale stones, just torrential rain. Every few seconds, a ping from a raindrop on steroids hit the roof and reverberated the whole car. That's what woke-up Andrew.

A normal rain lingered for about forty minutes and an hour later there wasn't a cloud in the sky.

Andrew stirred at tollbooths and then in Delaware, I woke himself for a final pit stop.

At home, Andrew woke-up feeling fine the next morning. So, with a slight rainy bump in road, we had righted the "Fredricksburg HAZ-MAT Wrong of 2005" in fine style. Hopefully, that'll be the worse thing that happens to us... EV-VER !!!!!

Monday, June 16, 2008

FATHER'S DAY and MEMORIES of the STARDUST

My Andrew, and many of his friends,
graduated middle school this week. I congratulate them all as well as the faculty and administrators that made the Grizzly GTMS experience, less grisly.

THE OFFICIAL ANDREW FAN CLUB AND SUPPORT TEAM

This week also included Father's Day and my family was kind enough to bestow upon me a LeRoy Neiman lithograph; celebrating the existence of my former employer, the now defunct Stardust Casino (1958-2006).

I frequently make the point that in other generations, young men who didn't know what they wanted to be, enlisted in military. However, due to the fiasco in Vietnam, baby-boomers were less anxious to serve.

I had no direction coming out of college and the gaming industry became a nice fit. You could say that casino work made a man out of me. And my five-year Las Vegas career wouldn't have been complete without my Stardust time.

In my era 1979-1984, Las Vegas casinos were divided into three main categories: toilets where a 40/hour week would gross less than $175.00/week, better downtown jobs where you could gross around $375.00/week and strip casinos where you should make at least $700.00/week.
Although the Stardust was near the bottom of the strip casinos, it was a great job. I was fortunate to get hired there without "juice" and fifteen months experience. Back in my pre-burn-out days, I can say without sarcasm that my time there was a two-year joy ride.

To illustrate the Stardust's positive influence on me, I have said on millions of occasions that; I loved working there so much--that by my second day off, I couldn't wait to get back to the action. Okay, I was a crazy idealistic kid but its no exaggeration to say I had countless adventures and met an ever-spinning revolving door of characters...so much so that my stories are filled with them.

The lithograph will be prominently hung above my computer work station. In that position, I hope my writing will continue to be inspired by it.

Who knows, maybe next Father's Day I can get the replica Maltese Falcon statuette that I also covet.

Monday, June 9, 2008

INDIANA JONES and the KINGDOM of the CRYSTAL SKULL

Sometimes, the phrase; more of the same, implies negativity. But in reference to Indiana Jones movies and/or Steven Spielberg, more of the same simply means; complimentary.

My first taste of summer movie fun features Harrison Ford. He's back in the title role after a twenty year absence in...INDIANA JONES and the KINGDOM of the CRYSTAL SKULL.
Set during 1950's cold war paranoia, the movie opens in a Nevada military installation where atomic bomb testing is being done. It seems the Russians are after an object of fascination, superstition and fear, known as the crystal skulls of Akator, (Hitchcock called the item "they" are after; the McGuffin) . With these artifacts, the Rushkies feel they can dominate the world. And its up to world-famous archaeologist Indiana Jones to stop them.

The hunt then whisks us away to the most remote corner of Peru where the mythical golden city of El Dorado is intertwined into the story.

The movie is full of beautiful photographic images, visual effects, great stunts and signature chase scenes. If you watch carefully there are many references to other Indiana Jones movies plus other nostalgic eye-candy to capture the feeling of the fifties, like Marlon Brando from the "WILD ONE," HOWDY DOODY and James Dean.

The Crystal Skulls was a most anticipated sequel and because of that, its probably difficult to live-up to the hype. However, from a purely entertainment and escapism standpoint, the surviving three (count them) free-falls off waterfalls, giant ant attacks and a sword fight across two parallel vehicles, driving through a jungle, are fantasy at its finest. And even more importantly, Steven Spielberg and Harrison Ford made 65 year-old Indy a believable super-hero.

Its hard to believe that this was my son Andrew's first exposure to Indiana Jones and he loved it...even more than me. I think the difference between he and I was, even though the movie made no attempt to hide the aliens from outer space angle, their ultimate treatment of it was a little "over-the-top" for my taste.

3 - 3.5 stars (out of four) from me...3.5 from Andrew. I'm certain Andrew will now be looking for more of the same...from the original Indiana Jones movies.

Monday, June 2, 2008

NEVER LET UFO's STAND IN THE WAY OF A GOOD NIGHTS SLEEP !

I once said of my wife: I have so much faith in her that I would believe anything she told me--with one exception...if she told me that she was abducted by aliens...that would be something I would need to see for myself.

The issue of whether we are alone in the universe is open to a wide range of speculation. And because I am neither intensely ethereal nor scientific, I simply take this stance: Yes I believe we are not alone BUT I also feel that whatever IS out there, hasn't been seen by us, their "civilization" is not as advanced as ours... and therefore, they're not a threat to our planet.

Our course as stubborn as I seem...under the right circumstances, like seeing something other-worldly myself, I might change my stance.

A few years back, we here at Casa Edelblum experienced a period of economic uncertainty. In taking a pro-active approach (I did something before the crap hit the fan), I took on a secondary casino position. Unfortunately, the amount of hours I was getting at the extra job wasn't enough to cover our impending financial collapse.

The remedy became a third job, doing landscaping. The arrangement with this gardener, regarding the regularity of my schedule never "blossomed" into what we had agreed on (he lied to me) so while doing all three...I got a fourth job with a survey company.

Surveying allowed me to work at home. It was easy. I made follow-up calls...usually regarding customer courtesy/service from utility companies. The tedium was so mind-boggling...that as easy as it may have been...I resigned after a short time.

It was at this time that I mentioned my plight to my friend, Gary. He said that he needed a substitute to deliver his newspaper route (The Atlantic City Press) after swing-shift, 4:AM. I could work once a week for $30.00 CASH, plus a few extra days here and there and during his vaction.
Gary said once you get into the routine, the job only took an hour, its easy and you're in your own car. He said, "I like to pop in a couple of CD's and the next thing you know, you're done." It sounded do-able.

To see if I liked the operation, one time I rode "shotgun" while he did his route. He got out of work an hour earlier than me so he had already gone to the loading dock and put the papers into their little plastic bags.
When I got into his car, Gary and I laughed the whole time...that part was a lot of fun...BUT.

I never lost sight of the fact that, Gary wouldn't be there to clown around with me. Plus, even though it was August, riding around the boondocks of Galloway at 4:30AM, with the windows down (to throw the papers out), was freezing and I indeed caught a cold...I couldn't imagine doing this after the summer...like in the winter.

We were in the car an hour when Gary mentioned that sometimes, there's a long wait to pick-up the papers. That thought stung like a hornet. Then my enthusiasm for the job began losing its luster in the same proportion as my yawns became more frequent.

The back seat still had a ton more papers as Gary turned onto an unlit, unpaved rural road.
We were bumping and bucking up a long rocky driveway when he said, "It can be murder out here when the streets freeze-up." I was making a face when he added, "A bunch of times, I almost hit a deer."
I then asked, "How long does it take to put all those papers in the baggies?"
"Oh," he said, "I do it while I drive."
I did a double-take and he added, "In the beginning, I wouldn't recommend you doing that. So it might add an extra twenty minutes...of course the Sunday papers would take a lot longer because you have to put all the sections together yourself."

I was fried after 90 minutes and we still weren't done. This was a minimum of a two-hour ordeal after doing casino work and the money wasn't worth it. We were having so much fun that I didn't have the heart to tell him that I wasn't interested. Plus, I was feeling sick and struggling to keep my eyes open.

When we were done, I still had to get my car at Gary's house. We were on Jimmie Leeds Road and turned south onto Eighth Avenue. That's where the new Shop-Rite is...back then, it was the vacant wooded lot where the D'Lerio flea market was.
It was after dawn and the sunless sky had begun to brightened. Suddenly through the trees, I thought I was hallucinating...I saw as clear as could be...until the trees blocked my view...a UFO. Now trust me, I know how tired and disgusted I was...to be certain I wasn't hallucinating, I wanted a second look before I proclaimed an advanced alien presence in the neighborhood.

But Gary beat me to it and said, "Its a bleeping UFO!"

And it was. As unearthly as any flying object I ever saw, it resembled a jack (the kids game jacks). A pronged craft with blinking iridescent lights on the ends of its spiky arms. It was gliding about as high as the banner planes that fly over the beach. And I'm telling you-- against the middle shade of blue sky, it was as clear as could be until the trees got in our way again.
This was the pre-cell phone-era so Gary slammed on the brakes, craned his head for a better look and said, "We're probably the only ones seeing it at this hour. We got to call someone and alert everyone."
Here I was with all the proof I needed that extra-terrestrials do exist and I said, "Gary, don't stop. Please, before you save the world from the invasion, drop me off..."

Two day's later in the A. C. Press, there was a little item on the sixth page that mentioned Russian space junk flying over Galloway. The government cover-up people around here screamed conspiracy...and for those of us who saw it...it was a close call but...I wasn't beamed-up and Gary...who was more convinced than me, went straight to bed too. And because I knew my wife wouldn't believe me unless she saw it, I didn't tell her the story until I saw the article.

Monday, May 26, 2008

MEMORIAL DAY OBSERVANCE

Today, offer a silent moment of gratitude for the men and women who have served as well as those who are now serving in our armed forces. We should never lose sight of all the rights and privileges we enjoy as a result of their loyalty, valor, commitment, and sacrifice.

Paraphrased from LIFE'S LITTLE INSTRUCTION CALENDAR - VOLUME VIII

In my childhood the idea of being in the military was cool. I loved to make the garden into a battleground for my army soldiers and TV shows like "COMBAT" were must-see events each week. Unfortunately, once I got older and the grim reality of Vietnam set-in, so a military chapter in my life quickly lost its luster.

I respect those in the military because I doubt I would have lasted ten minutes in basic training...much less facing the enemy in the field. I know this because I can barely handle the regimentation of the casino industry.

Military life is difficult enough without having to fight-off a non-human foe. Just try to put yourself in this situation from the movie "JAWS." Towards the end, there is the scene in which the Robert Shaw character (Quint) and Richard Dreyfuss (Hooper) get drunk and merrily compare shark inflicted scars. Roy Scheider's character (Chief Brody) comments about one of Quint's unmentioned scars. Quint says, "Its not a scar...I had a tattoo removed...the U. S. S. Indianapolis."

Quint goes on to eerily tell his account of surviving the single worst at-sea loss of life in US naval history.

ROBERT SHAW as QUINT


The demise of the heavy cruiser U. S. S. Indianapolis is a true story. It led a long and honored career from 1932 until July 30, 1945. Its last mission on July 26, 1945 was TOP SECRET. On that day, the Indianapolis successfully delivered to Tinian Island, the critical parts (the uranium projectile) for "Little-Boy," the atomic bomb that would be dropped on Hiroshima.

Four days later in the Philippine Sea, a Japanese submarine attacked. It is uncertain whether the cruiser was hit two or three times but from the first on-board explosion to the time she sank...was twelve minutes.

It is estimated that three hundred men died from the attack. 880 others abandoned ship and went into water. In a combination or being victims of circumstance and naval stupidity, the men were left to their own devices for four days.

The main reason they were left there was; the mission was so secret that against normal naval procedure...no notice was sent to the port of destination...that meant they weren't missing because nobody was expecting them. Plus there was radio silence. The Indianapolis sent out three distress calls any way. At first all of these S. O. S.'s were claimed to have never been received (later it was discovered that for various reasons, these calls were ignored).

For the sake of the movie's tension, Quint goes into some gory shark-related details about the four-day wait for rescue. Wikipedia takes a less Hollywood-ish tact, saying that the men were systematically dying from drowning, exposure and dehydration with the sharks feeding on the corpses.

Of the original 1196 crew members only 317 lived to tell the tale. Ironically, the Indianapolis was the last major war vessel lost in WWII.

The Indianapolis is just one of countless stories of the ultimate sacrifice. Please, never forget what it means to be an American and always take time to thank the veterans you come across...for their devotion to our freedom and way of life.

Monday, May 19, 2008

CONGRATULATIONS ARE IN ORDER

Help me to congratulate my Uncle Mickey & Aunt Harriet who celebrated their wedding anniversary yesterday. I'm not sure how many years it is now, but I know its big number.

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Its not quite what I had in mind but congratulations are in order, yesterday I experienced my first $62.00 gas fill-up. Talk about cultural shock...I wasn't even on "E."

If you are as old as I am, you can remember 38c per gallon gas. Back in antiquity, gas was cheaper than bottled water and the thought of a $20.00 fill-up was mind boggling. Plus, someone was always there to squeegee your windows. Try getting someone to do that these days.

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A ways back, I told of a Vietnamese co-worker whose name was Dung. When he found out that his name in English meant; fecal matter...he changed his name to Tony. Luckily for us MORE GLIB ThAN PROFOUND-aholics, another example of being named after hydrogenous waste has again squeezed its way through.

Thanks to DOMTRPT and GALEN, my knowledge of Bulgarian culture now goes beyond its capitol Sofia and their money being called a Lev. The vital bit of information that these fine gentleman have shared with me is the Bulgarian word for poop. Phonetically, its pronounced "aki" or if you like "ockey." Conveniently, there is a marginal professional ice OCKEY player... a defenseman from Finland who last played for the Toronto Maple Leafs named...AKI Berg.

AKI BERG

I wonder who named him Aki or if its a nickname?

A ten year veteran, he was never a star, so maybe his name coincides with his less than spectacular stature in the league (NHL). Or, perhaps there was a Bulgarian scout with a wry sense or humor when he was coming up? In any event, Mr. Berg needs to be congratulated on his good fortune to be mentioned in my high-brow column and let's hope when he visits the Balkan region that he has a thick enough skin to ignore the snickering when he introduces himself. Or if he has any sense at all, to stay out of Bulgaria all together.

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I recently read that the movie E. T., THE EXTRATERRESTRIAL was voted the #24 greatest movie of all time by the American Film Institute (AFI).

I only saw it when it first came out and really liked it. Now, 26 or so years later, I couldn't recall the finer details of the plot--so we watched it on TV.

Now that I've (and I stress the I've) re-seen it...Andrew fell asleep during the third commercial (dozing off in the middle of movies is a family tradition), I congratulate myself for my excellent choice and I encourage you all to re-see it or see it for the first time.

Don't get fooled, this is NOT a kiddie movie. It works on many levels. Yes, on the surface the cuddly alien, sci-fi angle is aimed at children but the greater universal message is acceptance, friendship and loyalty.

E. T. is bundled with humorous , cute and clever writing as well as a fresh young cast that includes the adorable Drew Barrymore. If she had more lines, she could have stolen the movie!

The plot is science fiction. Usually what makes sci-fi work is...that the central concept can be seen as plausible to the viewer. This is made abundantly clear in JURASSIC PARK, with the notion of dinosaur DNA being siphoned from fossilized mosquitoes. However, in E. T. such is NOT the case. The movie is pure fantasy with flying bicycles and E. T., a gazillion light years away, cannibalizing normal earthling-level household items to put together a device to "phone home," (yes that's Debra Winger doing his voice-over).

All this wonderment is accomplished in a sweet and sensitive way without being predictable and sappy. Of course even tough guys like me might get a little teary eyed...but that's okay!

Monday, May 12, 2008

SIR BENNY

I don't know the criteria for knighthood but the English badly missed the mark when they over-looked comedian Benny Hill. I'm certain if he was American, he'd be on the new three-dollar bill or at least have him on a series of postage stamps.In our country, Benny is a stranger to today's generation. Maybe there's a problem with the rights to his old TV shows or perhaps the powers that be, think his cutting-edge humor wouldn't be relevant today.

To test the latter possibility, I introduced Hill to my son through U-TUBE. As I expected, Andrew liked it a lot and wanted more. What I can't fathom is, that despite the enormity of his success in the U. K., (The Benny Hill Show, in one form or another viewed consecutively from 1955-1988), the program (or programme as the English spell it), slipped into obscurity, got cancelled and even worse...soon Benny Hill became a persona non grata. To find out why this great talent was tossed aside, let's go back to the beginning.

Alfred "Alfie" Hawthorne Hill was born on January 21, 1924 in Southampton England. He worked in a wide range of odd-jobs before getting into show business. Once he got his foot in the door, Hill, in honor of comedian Jack Benny, changed his name to Benny Hill.

In his early television years, Hill produced four shows a year on the BBC. These shows, because of his unique style of humor (or humour as the Brits spell it) were greatly anticipated by his tremendous following.

Down through the years, especially in the mid-eighties, Hill was prodded into doing more and more. When Thames Television took over for the BBC, he was encouraged (monetarily) to produce a weekly program. The cleverness of the routines wore thin due to over-exposure...which lead to redundancy, sameness and the most dreaded...repetition. But beyond the material, there was something else causing mass negativity towards Hill.

In Hill's shows, a common theme included scantily clothed women being chased by him. This is especially true in his signature closing credits segments with "YAKETY SAX" music in the background. Somehow, in "sexually progressive" England, this concept was deemed by "experts" to be degrading to women. This accusation is particularly wrong because most of the time, the women turned the tables on Hill and started chasing him.

In Britain, a grass-roots movement to oust Hill was started by certain entertainment critics. They claimed this sort of humor, in addition to be sexist was passe...even though independent researchers would prove that a new generation of viewers loved the Benny Hill Show.

Four years after he was off the air, Benny Hill was found dead in his apartment, April 19, 1992.

Similar to two other English comedians, Charlie Chaplin and Peter Sellers, Benny Hill led an odd, perhaps unhappy and/or unfulfilled personal life. A work-aholic, he was remembered by his small circle of close friends to be, a happy hermit and completely dedicated to his craft. He never married (he proposed twice but both women turned him down) and he never owned a car or a house. Benny even lived with his mother until she passed-away in 1976.

He enjoyed traveling abroad but used those experiences to sharpen his foreign language skills and develop more material from observing the locals.

Hill named his predeceased parents as the primary beneficiaries in his will, (approx $20 million {US}). Curiously, his secondary beneficiaries were already dead too. Therefore, his fortune slipped into the hands of his tertiary beneficiaries; seven nieces and nephews. Hill did however provide a tidy sum for his close friends especially cast members and other associates of his show. Unfortunately for them, the proper legal procedure wasn't followed, (a legitimate oversight? Or Hill's warped sense of humor) ? Nevertheless, this "technicality" allowed the nieces and nephews to contest that portion of the will. They fought it out in court and his family won the entire inheritance.

In the end when Benny Hill's career soured, I can't help but think there was a conspiracy against him. To say his style of humor was passe is ridiculous! In the good old U. S. of A., even the low-brow "THE THREE STOOGES" are considered to be classics with each generation developing new "stooge-a-philes."

I say, "Don't pull Sir Benny down, pull him up.  Out of the cracks of the abyss and celebrate his comic genius. Make him what he deserves to be remembered as, (albeit posthumously) an English national treasure."

Hopefully, PBS or someone else will start showing the old re-runs again. If not, I'm sure there are DVD's out there somewhere and I guarantee he'll make you laugh. I just wish I had the "Yakety Sax" sound effect dubbed over this last paragraph.