The recent death of Rush Limbaugh reminded me of WAEB radio. I don’t think I have tuned in since he started blathering. Believe it or not, back in my high school days WAEB radio was the radio station of record, locally, for all the music we wanted to hear. Two Guys (not to be confused with the hamburger chain, Five Guys), was the place those of us from Slatington used to buy records. Two Guys was one of the first major stores on MacArthur Road and dared to be lawbreakers and be open on Sundays! Oh the horror!

WAEB used to publish a Top 40 every week, which included their Big Six Picks of the Week and the WAEB Sureshot. You could pick up this paper at Two Guys every week. And we did. We used to get excited to see if a favorite song of ours was moving up the list or down the list. Yes, it was a simpler time back then.

The Big Six Picks of the Week was one up and coming song from each of the six main disc jockeys. I need some help from my fellow sixties hippies here. I can remember them being Jay Sands, Tiger Joe McClain, Gene Kaye, Jeff Frank, and Barry George (no relation). I know I am missing someone or more than someone. Back in high school, these people were like gods to us. Again, a simpler time. The Sureshot was a consensus among them about which song would be rising to the top of the charts soon. Probably a Beatles song! Okay, my bias is showing.

AM radio was such a big part of our lives. It was how we heard the Beatles arrive in America. It was a way to tell our girlfriend that we love them, by calling the DJ and getting your favorite song dedicated to her. It was how we all knew what music was popular across the nation. That, and watching Dick Clark on American Bandstand.

Those days are long gone and every generation after us has had their own way of keeping up. A nice reminiscence was called for today as we say goodbye to winter. Seriously, if anyone can help me with those DJs, please let me know.

Winter is officially over this coming week. Hurray! I’ll confess here that this winter got me feeling a little old and a little bit down. I don’t like that. I think it was a combination of the ice and snow, Covid restrictions, working almost exclusively from home, and these new upper dentures. But the first signs of Spring are reminding me that you are only as old as you feel! Sixty is the new fifty! Age is only a number! I used to roll my eyes at these cliches, but now I am finding them true and important. In two months I’ll be 69. That means that in fourteen months I will be 70. Just wow.

How old do I feel? Physically I feel about 55. Emotionally I feel about 25. I guess those are pretty good numbers. Hiking keeps my physical age 55. 94.9 Miles so far this year! If only I ate better I might feel 45, but cookies and cake make me settle for 55. That’s okay. You might think that an emotional age of 25 is kind of low. Let me explain.

I used the age of 25, as an emotional age, because I still believe I will have a bright and exciting future. I still get excited at seeing the first robin of Spring, double rainbows, the sunrise over the ocean, thunderstorms, , the first leaves changing color in the fall, and the smell of new mown grass. I still like listening to new music, stretching my mind with new books, and seeing new places. I always warn my clients that I am an optimist. I think they like that. I know I do.

My title today comes from watching a documentary about Bob Dylan. I was reminded of his great song, Forever Young. “May you build a ladder to the stars, and climb on every rung. And may you stay, forever young.” What a philosophy to live by. Buddha says everything starts in the mind. So, if your mind is telling you that you are old, you will feel old. I’m trying hard not to fall into that trap. Yesterday, I saw that first robin of spring. It was wonderful! If you can honestly say that the first robin does nothing for you, you may already be 101!

Instead, join me in trying to stay forever young. If not in body then at least in spirit! I will close with one more stanza from Forever Young: “May you always be courageous. Stand upright and be strong. And may you stay, forever young”.

Are you now thinking of Don Henley? The great song by the ex-Eagle, that talks about being loyal to his love even after all the boys of summer have gone. I don’t blame you. Great song! But no. These boys of summer are professional baseball players. Some good sportswriter probably coined that term. The boys of summer.

I’m not a big baseball fan. But go Phils. I try to watch games on TV sometimes and inevitably fall asleep. But there was a time when baseball was important to me. When I was a kid I was a big NY Yankees fan. My dad and Uncle Dave and I would watch games on TV , while they drank Ballantine beer. Baseball and Ballantine was the slogan of the day. I was a fan then of Yogi Berra, Whitey Ford, Roger Maris , and the best of them all, Mickey Mantle. My dad took me to a game in Yankee Stadium. I remember being in left field as the Yanks played the Washington Senators. Good times. I gave up on the Yankees when they were swept by the Dodgers in the 1963 World Series. I gave up on Mickey Mantle later in life when I read a Mantle biography, “The Last Boy”, and found out what a rude and crass man he was. He once signed a baseball for a nine year old boy. This is what he wrote: “You’re a lucky kid. Your mom has great tits.” Okay then.

After 1963 I was a San Francisco Giants fan. Juan Marichal, Gaylord Perry, Willie McCovey and the greatest ball player ever, Willie Mays. Willie sparked this blogpost. I was listening to sports radio. The question of the day was, who retired too late? Someone said Willie Mays. Willie Mays, the say hey kid! His famous basket catch in the outfield. That big electric smile. The 660 home runs hit in spite of those winds coming in off the bay in Candlestick Park. I guess I’d better not read a biography of Willie. I might get disillusioned again.

Sometimes, in the car, I listen to sports talk radio. You can tell by the calls that come in, that some peoples lives are entirely wrapped up in sports. That’s not me. But it does bring back some nice memories from my past. And nice memories are a wonderful thing to fall back on. Like Yogi Berra once famously said, “The future ain’t what it used to be.”

This morning I woke up to the sound of the Byrds singing Mr. Tambourine Man. You know the song. “Hey Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me. In the jingle jangle morning, I’ll come following you. ” What a great lyric by Bob Dylan! Jingle jangle morning! Wow. The song, like music often does, took me to a place in my memory. In particular, it took me back to high school. Our football coach used to beg us to put money in his tambourine for a piece of gym equipment he wanted, that the school wouldn’t buy. I’ve written about that before. This time I am talking about the places music can take us.

If I hear early Beatles, like “She Love You”, I am right back in my seat in Mr. Dorward’s sixth grade class. What a fun year that was! “Lady Willpower” by the Union Gap reminds of a particularly bad breakup with a girlfriend in my junior year of high school. “Wonderland by Night”. Well, I never hear that song anymore, but if I did, it’s prom time! I’m sure you all have songs that are special to you from different points in your life.

Most of you know that my daughter, Amy, died at seventeen in 1989. She was a huge Guns and Roses fan. Today, if I hear Axl Rose singing I think immediately of Amy. Especially if the song is “Sweet Child of Mine”. Instant teary eyes. If I hear a Monkees song, I remember my wife being thrown up on, at a Monkees concert, by a very drunk teen girl. Sometimes the memories are not the greatest.

Music brings back memories, both good and bad. But music also heals. Van Morrison’s album “Avalon Sunset” came out right around the time of my daughter’s death. To me it felt like it was written just for me. To me it felt like he knew he could help me cope with her death. Do you know some of these songs from the album? “Have I Told You Lately”, “Whenever God Shines His Light”, “Contacting My Angel” “Daring Night”, “These Are the Days”. Sometimes, in a quiet hour, I will just close my eyes, listen to this album. and remember that time, and her.

I hope I stirred up some memories for you. I hope you will think about songs that have been important in your life. Revisit them. Wait for the memories and the emotions, good and bad, to wash over you. You know the best time to do this? In the jingle jangle morning! I love that phrase.

I’m sure I am not the only one who sometimes thinks it would be great to just get lost for awhile. You know, get off the grid and head for the woods or the mountains or the desert just to be as far away from people as possible. To venture out searching for America, or for your destiny, or for your soul. But very few of us actually pull this off. Our jobs, our families, and our fears keep us close to home.

This weekend I got to see the stories of two people who did just that. The first was on CBS Sunday Morning. It was the story of a hiker, who was found dead in his tent in a Florida campground. He had no electronics, no identification, no clues to who he might be. No cause of death determined. Authorities tried their best to find out who this man was. They failed. But others took up the challenge. A Facebook Group of 6000 people eventually discovered that he was an IT guy from Louisiana, who had just had enough. He traveled the Appalachian Trail from New York to Georgia, then walked into Florida, and died. You may have seen him as he crossed Route 309 on top of Blue Mountain! Did he achieve his dream of solitude? We’ll never know.

The second was the movie Nomadland ,on Hulu and in theaters. This one is fictional and the story of a woman whose husband dies and her company town also dies after the closing of a mill. She buys an old van and outfits it as a traveling home. She explores the western United States, the scenery in the movie is just wonderful. She was asked once if she is homeless. She said that she is houseless, not homeless, and that is a big difference. The movie really makes you think about life and death and about family and freedom. She, unlike the hiker, makes some friends along the way. But she has an opportunity to settle down in a beautiful house. She says no.

Could I be one of these two? I don’t think so. Actually, I know the answer is no. But it is still nice to dream about. I will, instead, get my off the grid fix by reading and watching movies and TV. Reading about and watching the tales of those with real courage will have to do. I think the best I can do comes from a ’60s song I bet most you have forgotten, “Let’s Get Lost on a Country Road” by the Kit Kats! Get to your Spotify now! You know you want to.

Every six weeks or so I have breakfast with a high school classmate. Hi, Nancy! We meet at Danielsville’s Blue Mountain Drive-in, midway between our respective homes. We have good food (their homefries are great!), catch up on our lives, and, of course, reminisce. This past Friday she brought something different to the table, literally. She had a framed picture of our high school class standing in front of the Capitol, in Washington. “We have a project!” she announced. “We are going to name every class member.”

I thought to myself, then said out loud, that this will be a breeze. My class had only 121 members. I write about high school all the time. I knew these people well, fifty years ago. Boy, was I wrong! There were a handful of classmates that we could not name. Here we are two days later and there is still a little controversy. We are going to bring in a third opinion.

Frustrated at our failure, I instead focus on the good that came out of our project. What a treat that was to look at each individual and remember them as they were 51 years ago and wonder where they are today. Of course, some of them are no longer with us. Nancy could relate some encounters with classmates that I hadn’t thought of in decades. I shared what I knew about some others. The vast majority we lost track of completely. Whatever happened to Wayne Zader and Mark Bowers? How about Sandra Brown and Peggy Sessa? Enquiring minds want to know!

Here were 121 people from Slatington, Walnutport, and Washington Township. We were all thrown together to share this important time of our lives only because all of our parents conceived us within a certain calendar year. That sounds a little crass put like that. But it isn’t crass at all. It created a bond among kids with different likes and interests. It created a bond that exists, for many of us, to this day, emotionally if not physically. Can you tell I really enjoyed my high school years? I wish my daughter, Emma, could say the same.

Interestingly, neither Nancy nor I could remember much about our class trip to Washington. Maybe that is because it marked an ending to an awesome four years.

That is where our project stands. As we finished breakfast, I got a little sad about my high school class. I miss every single one of them. We are getting older. Our ranks are shrinking. We are on this earth for such a very short time. Please lets just love one another.

Cloris Leachman died last week, at the age of 94. She was a wonderful actress with a long career of not being type cast. She, like Johnny Depp, took on all kinds of roles playing lots of interesting characters. My favorite role of hers was Frau Blucher in Young Frankenstein. If you are looking for more on Cloris Leachman, you won’t find it here. I’m writing about my favorite comedy movie of all time, Young Frankenstein, and the unique pleasure of watching it with my daughter who had never seen it.

If you haven’t ever seen this movie, today would be a good time to check it out. You know you are only wasting time waiting for the Chiefs to win their second straight Super Bowl anyway. You may not like it if you are a sophisticated, mature, and serious adult. You will definitely like it if you are like me, unsophisticated, immature, and always ready for a good laugh.

Its humor is sophmoric and a little bit ribald. Early in the film, Gene Wilder (Emma remembered him from Willie Wonka), Teri Garr , and Marty Feldman arrive at the castle in a horse drawn cart. Marty (Igor) pounds on the castle door with its enormous iron ring door knockers, just as Gene (Frederick Frankenstein) is lifting Teri (Inga) out of the cart. He exclaims “What Knockers!”. She of course, replies “Why thank you, Doctor” The humor goes downhill from there.

There are so many wonderful moments from this film, it’s difficult to give a good sampling for those who haven’t seen it. My favorites, without trying to be a ruiner, are the monster’s encounter with a blind hermit played by Gene Hackman, Puttin’ on the Ritz performed by Frankenstein and his creation, Igor’s movable hump, the horses’ reactions to Frau Blucher, and the scene with the rotating library wall.

Just listing those few, make me realize how many funny moments I have not listed. I may watch it again today. I know that Emma liked it, because she was not staring at her phone the whole time. That’s the usual case if I recommend a movie. In fact, she hardly looked at her phone at all!

I am not turning my blog into a movie review blog. But I just love this movie. I have recommended it to couples who I counsel. If they have been in a weeks long funk of bickering and sadness, I recommend they keep an open mind and just enjoy Young Frankenstein together. Guaranteed to improve a mood!

That’s it for today. Go Chiefs! My favorite team since the 1960’s.

I’m not talking about two different people. I’m talking about me. These are comments I received when I became a father for the first time and when I became a father for the last time. I have never really followed the norm in most things I’ve done in my life. Whether it’s graduating from college at 35 or grad school at 49, I don’t always follow the middle path. Running a marathon to celebrate turning fifty or buying a Sunshine Orange Subaru Crosstrek at 67, I march to my own drum. I’ve never been a big believer in “things happen for a reason”. I believe life is much more random than that!

I was nineteen when my daughter, Amy was born. 1972. Things were a lot different back then. Abortion was illegal. Contraceptives weren’t as varied nor as easily accessible. I was told that I was ruining my life. That I would never be able to get a good job. That I would never go to college. That I would miss out on the years of sowing my wild oats. I did finish college and grad school and have had a wonderful career. As for sowing my wild oats, I’m not a farmer. Nor am I a party boy. I was perfectly happy staying home with my wife and my little infant girl.

Would I recommend having a child at 19? Absolutely not. But if you do, I won’t criticize or judge. I’ll say congratulations and mind my own business. What a concept!

Emma, my last child, was born in 2002. I was fifty. This is what I heard. You won’t have the energy to raise a child at that age. You won’t ever be able to retire. You probably won’t see her marry or see her have children. You’ll be an embarrassment to her as an older father. Well, guess what. I have plenty of energy. I think she keeps me young. I’m semi-retired. I’m getting there. I expect to be around to see her marry. I don’t think I will walk her down the aisle using a walker. I’m hoping to be able to babysit her kids at some point. Am I an embarrassment to her? You’d have to ask her that! But we have a really good relationship.

Would I recommend having a child at 50? Absolutely not. But if you do, I won’t criticize or judge. I’ll say congratulations and mind my own business. Again, quite the concept!

John Lennon famously sang “Life is what happens while we’re making other plans.” He was so right. So live your life and let others live theirs. Whether everything is happening for a reason or if it is like I believe, random af, just embrace each and every day and be kind to all.

Anyone recognize that as a title of a song? Yeah, probably not. If you do, then you remember Harry Nilsson. He was a singer/ songwriter from the 60s and early 70s. He was best known as a life loving, heavy drinking, singer of the the theme song from Midnight Cowboy, “Everybody’s Talkin’ at Me”. What I find most amazing about him is that he could write a song about a desk! Not about love. Not about heartbreak. About a desk!

Well, if he can write a song about a desk, I can write a blogpost about desks. I love desks! Big, small, wood, metal or plastic. I can remember getting a desk for Christmas when I was a child. I’ve been trying to remember what it looked like, but I can’t. But I do know that it was one of my favorite gifts ever. I think my parents knew I like to write.

I saw, on Facebook, pictures of the destruction of my junior high building. Now that place had the desks! Very old fashioned. Your desk seat was attached to the desk behind it. The desk itself had a slanted wood top that lifted up. On the flat top was a groove for a pen and an actual hole for an inkwell. And no, I am not old enough to have ever used an inkwell! In high school we graduated to stand alone desks, whose surface was the shape of an apostrophe. Under the seat there was a basket to hold your books. Very efficient, but lacking in character.

I’ve owned a roll top desk for about thirty five years. It was a gift from an ex-wife. It was purchased at the famous Kern’s Furniture Store in Slatedale. It remains one of my favorite possessions. Wood, with brass fittings. Just the right amount of cubby holes. A mantle like top that holds lots of good stuff. A roll that works right every single time. Of course, now, I leave it open all the time. I know that key must be here somewhere!

There is my little essay on desks I have known and loved. I hope you enjoyed it and that it brought back good memories for you. I’d like to hear if any of you have any desks in your past, or present, that were special to you.

Let me close with the first line from Harry Nilsson’s song, “Good Old Desk”: “My old desk, does an arabesque, in the morning when I first arrive.” Now that was a desk!

Those are the ages of the three remaining George siblings, born of my parents. There were originally five of us. Those who would have been 86 and 84 each died at the age of 65. I am 68. Yesterday I attended the, mostly, drive by birthday party of sibling number four who turned 80. Let’s put some names in here so this post doesn’t sound so mathematic. Donald and Janice are the two who passed away way too early. Jim, Gary, and Dennis (that’s me!) are the surviving brothers.

Did you notice the age difference between me and the others? Jim and Gary grew up in the ’50s. Their music was Elvis and Pat Boone and Chuck Berry and really twangy Country. I grew up, in the ’60s, with the Beatles and Stones and really good Motown. They came of age in the time when you could graduate from high school and get a great paying job at Mack Trucks or Bethlehem Steel. I came of age at the tail end of that time. There are big generational differences between us.

But the three of us have more in common than we have differences. We all were raised in Slatington and we all have fond memories of that time and place. We have, of course, the same parents, Winfield and Bessie! Our dad never made a lot of money, but enough to get by. My mom, who may have been resentful of just getting by, was often cranky. If I think back now I can honestly never recall her smiling. But together they raised the five of us. And the five of us turned out to be pretty decent people, if I do say so myself. We shared in the love of our aunts, uncles, and cousins. Those aunts and uncles are all gone. The memories of them remain strong.

The party was nice, though very very short. I got to see nieces and nephews and their spouses that I haven’t seen in a long time. We don’t have as many family gatherings as we once had. It was nice because I love my brothers very much and who knows how many chances we will have to be together. They have both been role models for me, though I didn’t always follow their lead. In retrospect, I know I probably should have been paying more attention. Their long marriages to high school sweethearts are the gold standard of marriages that we don’t see much of anymore.

How do I wrap up this post? I guess by stating again how important family is and how fast time goes. A shout out to my deceased siblings, Don and Jan. I wish we were all together still. But life goes on. Cherish the people that love you and that you love. Live every day like it is your last. Like the Beatles sang… Tomorrow Never Knows.