Leave a comment Posted on Dodgers, Shohei Ohtani

Ohtani–Oh My!

For fans of Dodger baseball, the past 12 years have been schizophrenic.  As monumental as the regular season records have been, the playoff runs have been short-lived and sometimes awful.

2013 – 92-70; lost in championship series

2014 – 94-68; lost in divisional series

2015 – 92-70; lost in divisional series

2016 – 91-71; lost in championship series

2017 – 104-58; lost in World Series

2018 – 92-71; lost in World Series

2019 – 106-56; lost in divisional series

2020 – 43-17; won World Series

2021 – 106-56; lost in championship series

2022 – 111-51; lost in divisional series

2023 – 100-62; lost in divisional series

During this incredible 12-year stretch, the L.A. club holds the best winning percentage of any team in baseball.  Normally, that track record would amount to the Dodgers anointed as a dynasty.  Unfortunately, titles are what ultimately determines such a distinction.  And the Dodgers have but one World Series championship (that shortened season one in 2020) to show for their regular season greatness.  It can be argued that 2017 should have been another when the Houston Astros were guilty of cheating their way to a title.

Talk to Dodger fans and they will conclude that the regular season means nothing as long as they don’t win a championship.

I used to feel that way, but this season I no longer do.

That’s due to one player:  Shohei Ohtani.

Every time he comes up to the plate it’s a thrill.  You have to stop what you’re doing and watch what he does.  Look at how many people in the stands are videotaping his at-bats.

For those who may not know, what makes Ohtani unique is his ability to hit and pitch at elite levels.  The only other player who did that was Babe Ruth.  It is why when he left Japan to come to America in 2018, several teams wanted him.  He signed with the Angels and won two Most Valuable Player awards. 

As a free agent over the winter, Ohtani signed with the Dodgers for $700 million, the most expensive contract for an athlete.  But it’s like signing two players at the same time:  a pitcher and a hitter.  Since he’s recovering from arm surgery this year, he is the Designated Hitter.

By focusing solely on hitting, he is doing things never done or rarely done before in the nearly 200 years of baseball.

Earlier this season he became the 6th player in MLB history to have at least 40 home runs and 40 steals in the same season. Of those players, he achieved that mark in the fewest games.

And on Sept. 19, the one-year anniversary of his arm surgery, Ohtani may have had the best single game every for any baseball player in history, when he surpassed 50 homers and 50 steals.

He went 6 for 6, with a single, 2 doubles and 3 homeruns; those homers were list last three at-bats.

Look at Ohtani’s stats for that single game:

  • He had 10 RBIs, the most for any Dodger player.
  • He’s the 16th player to have 10 RBIs.
  • He’s the 7th player to have 17 total bases.
  • He’s the 1st player to have 3 HRs and 2 SBs.
  • He’s the 1st player to have 10 RBIs and 5 extra-base hits.
  • His batting average increased from .287 to .294.

Ohtani challenged himself to steal more bases this year.  Previously, he only had 26 stolen bases out of 36 attempts.  As of this writing, he has 55 stolen bases out of 59 attempts. He also has 53 home runs.

That day, the Dodgers clinched a playoff spot for the 12th straight year.  It also was the first time Ohtani in 7 years will be in the playoffs ending the longest streak of games for a current player who never played in a playoff game before.

What makes his productivity even more impressive is this.

  • This is his first year adjusting to a new team and environment.
  • In March, his closest American friend pled guilty to stealing $17 million in a gambling scandal; Ohtani had no idea of this betrayal.
  • Signing such a huge contract did not harm his output; in fact, he is having his best year in the majors.

Think of the global media pressure Ohtani has managed in all of the visiting cities.  One thing is clear:  no moment overwhelms him.  In last year’s World Baseball Classic, he clinched the championship for Japan.  One can only imagine how he will perform in the playoffs.

And the most amazing part of this story is how humble of a person Ohtani is.  The first thing he said after the game:  “[I am] very respectful to the peers and everybody who came before who played the sport of baseball.”

Sports can provide a respite from negative news.  To marvel at how one human can perform at a level never before seen in a particular sport is glorious.

As much as I would love for the Dodgers to win their first full season championship since 1988, Ohtani is a champion, and next year when he pitches and hits, who know what records he will break?  I’m going to enjoy watching him play in Dodger Blue for the next 9 years.  How lucky we Dodger fans are!

Leave a comment Posted on Disneyland, General Hospital, Pete Renaday, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle

Pete Renaday will be Missed

Actor Pete Renaday, born Pierre Renoudet, died last week after just turning 89 years old.  When word spread about his passing, most people know him through his voice work for cartoons, video games and Disney theme park rides.  However, he acted all of his life on stage, in television and films including a recurring role on “General Hospital.”

I got to know Pete through my brother Greg.  The two of them worked together at Disney Studios in the 1970’s.

One of the benefits of being the younger brother is getting introduced to your big brother’s buddies.  Of all the interesting artistic people Greg introduced me to when I was a teenager, from cartoonists to comic book collectors, Pete was the one known by his first name; the others—Foster, Spicer—only by their last.  And for me, he was the most special of my brothers’ friends.

While over the course of five decades I only spent a short amount of time with Pete, every visit meant time spent with a quick-witted man with a wink in his eye, and an Orson Welles’ worthy voice weighted with authority.  My brother used to have game nights with his pals, and he’d invite me as well.  I felt special that Greg invited me to these gatherings.  Though I was the youngest, I appreciated the jokes and conversation that made those nights so much fun.

The last time I saw Pete was with my brother for a lunch in a coffee shop a few years back.  Though his body aged, his mind remained sharp.

Last year when I digitized all my reel-to-reel audio tapes, I heard for the first time in decades a recording Pete made for me.  When I was a teen, I wrote dozens of short stories in the vein of Rod Serling.  I shared one with Pete who thought it would make for a good radio play.

Using high-end equipment in his apartment, he produced a 16-minute version of one of my stories with music and sound effects—professionally done.  It demonstrated the level of professionalism Pete employed no matter if it was narrating a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle character, the Mark Twain ride at Disneyland, playing Henry Higgins in a local theatrical production of “My Fair Lady,” or recording an unpublished work by his friend’s younger brother.

He also graciously appeared in a few of my short films I made.  His appearances elevated those Super 8 productions.

I thought about inviting Pete over to my house so I could play for him again those films and the radio show, but unfortunately it never happened.  He was really my brother’s friend, and I felt awkward initiating something on my own.

I’m lucky I knew Pete.  He brightened my life, and he will be missed.

Leave a comment Posted on Deli Man, Langer's Delicatessen, Mayor Karen Bass, Norm Langer, Steve Lopez

Go to Langer’s–NOW

Anytime I’m alerted that a favorite restaurant may close, I panic.  Such is the case with Langer’s Delicatessen in Los Angeles at Seventh and Alvarado. 

Langer’s has the best tasting pastrami of all the remaining Jewish delicatessens in the Los Angeles area (and there aren’t many left).  Too bad it has the worst location.

It has been around for 77 years.  Norm Langer, the son of Al who built the business, has been around for 79 years.  For decades the area around MacArthur Park has been unsafe, but in more recent years even more so with open drug use on the surrounding streets.

Norm has been after City Hall to do something to clean up the neighborhood; otherwise, he may have to close the restaurant.  But it was L.A. Times columnist Steve Lopez who wrote a story about it, which then went viral on local TV newscasts, to attract sufficient attention.

I had to go to Langer’s immediately before anything happened to the restaurant . . . or to Norm.

When I entered Langer’s yesterday, there standing near the counter was Norm himself.  I walked up to him, shook his hand and asked him if the City had responded to the swell of media coverage the past few days. 

“Yesterday, I met with the Mayor for an hour,” he said, somewhat confident that action may finally be taken.  I also inquired if there were any Langer offspring who could continue . . ., but before I could finish my question, he interrupted demonstratively, “No, I’m it,” clearly a question he is tired of answering.

Lopez wrote a follow-up about Mayor Karen Bass’s meeting with Norm at Langer’s.  One thing each discovered about the other:  they both attended the same junior and senior high schools.  Bass promised to turn things around (hopefully before the 2028 Olympics).

The possibility of losing Langer’s would put another nail into the Jewish Deli coffin.  The documentary “Deli Man” (2014) deftly explains why delicatessens are on the restaurant endangered list:  people’s diets have changed, and deli meats are more expensive than a fast food lunch.

Besides Langers, Brent’s in Northridge and Westlake Village, Art’s in Studio City and Nate ’n’ Al’s in Beverly Hills are the remaining deli’s in the L.A. area that are still good.

After eating my pastrami on rye with cole slaw and pickles followed by a chocolate egg cream, I was pleasantly surprised at the long line of customers on Seventh Street at 12:45 waiting for a table.

Now, if we could only clone Norm so that a Langer can continue the deli for another 77 years.

1 Comment Posted on Beauty and the Beast, digitizing home videos, Home movies, home videos

Reliving Life in Home Videos

Recently I had 40 mini-dv home video tapes digitally transferred onto a thumb drive.  Ever since my Sony camera stopped working, my wife and I were unable to view this large collection of our family’s lives from 2003 to 2011, the prime time of our boys’ childhoods.

Now we are re-living birthdays, Christmases, summer vacations and graduations.  For us empty nesters, watching these scenes is like finding the Fountain of Youth.  Look how young we were!  Look how fat I was!  How adorable the boys were!

One of the best benefits of having videos digitized is the ease of navigation.  No longer do I have to stop the video camera, press “forward” or “rewind” with the sound of the physical tape whirring while searching for a particular scene.  Now, all it takes is a quick “sliding” of the status bar to navigate through a video in lightning speed.

All the years when I chronicled my family’s history, I didn’t take the time to write down on each video every segment shot.  Sure, I copied down the year and maybe one or two main notes like “trip to Canada,” but in the midst of the hustle and bustle of daily life of rearing two young boys, I didn’t have the energy to go through each minute of a 60-minute video and document the dozens of scenes captured on each tape.

While the physical act of digitizing went smoothly via my local camera store, scrutinizing all the material, all 2,400 minutes of it, pausing frequently to type a description and time stamp of each segment, took hours resulting in a 12-page single-page document.

Decades ago when home movies were captured on 2 and ½ minute rolls of film, projecting them on a screen to show people was simple and short.  In all the years of shooting videotape, however, I have never gathered loved ones around the TV to watch a full hour of a day at Disneyland, something even I wouldn’t have the patience for.  Without the physical limits of film which required a proficient cameraman who could edit while filming, the limitless aspects of video fosters laziness as people shoot hours of an event from start to finish.  Have you ever watched a feature film shot in real time?  With few exceptions, it’s excruciating.

And so, my game plan with the help of my youngest son who’s adept at video editing is to produce 15-minute highlight reels so I can finally share in small chunks slices of our past.

In scouring through this material, it is surprising to discover in-between the major videos of events candid scenes I captured every so often just by walking around the house.  There’s Ben in the den rehearsing an oral for a school project where he’s pretending to be a vacuum cleaner commenting on what he’s “eating.”  There’s Max lying on the carpet in his room reading aloud to himself a Diary of a Wimpy Kid book unaware I was in the doorway taping him.  There’s my wife reading her own book (silently) at the dining room table not conscious of my presence.  

There are even times when I appear in the videos usually when Ben took the camera.  I recall those times when he did, how I instructed him how to properly hold the camera and not film silly things, but now I look back and, boy, do I wish he would have shot more videos.   Those are the most beautiful scenes because they are so natural and reveals normal everyday moments.

There are bittersweet scenes as well of watching our sons play together when they were younger, how close they used to be.  Seeing them appear again as children, Ben twirling Max in the living room to the “Beauty and the Beast” song.   

And then the teary moments of viewing my mother’s last Mother’s Day or Christmas when her health had declined, though at the time we didn’t know it would be her last celebrations.  And that’s the most profound takeaway from looking at old videos:  how fast life disappears and how essential to absorb each day we have.

1 Comment Posted on Corey Comperatore, Donald Trump, J. D. Vance, Joe Biden

Two Assassination Attempts

Last week, a 20-year-old troubled man thought it was his life’s goal to kill President Biden or former president Trump.  He chose Trump because of his close proximity (40 miles) to where the rally took place.

No matter one’s political leanings, it is a terrible day in America when a citizen targets a former president.  At a time when few events unite all Americans, Saturday was a time for calm reactions.  However, in today’s America, a majority of the people no longer agree on facts.

Look at the immediate reaction from Ohio Senator J.D. Vance, now the Republican Party’s Vice President nominee who said this.

“The central premise of the Biden campaign is that President Donald Trump is an authoritarian fascist who must be stopped at all costs. That rhetoric led directly to President Trump’s attempted assassination.”

In other words, President Biden was behind it.  That’s not true.  The shooter was tracking both politicians.  He was mentally disturbed and the investigation into his troubled life has revealed that he wasn’t political, just insane.

President Biden spoke to reporters after the event about how the rhetoric on both sides needs to be toned down.  But that unifying message has to be accepted by both sides; like a game, everyone must abide by the rules.

As an American who doesn’t belong to any political party, I was heartened to hear that Biden placed a call to the former president to check in on him.   Even Trump acknowledged that kind gesture, not publicly, but in a private conversation with another presidential candidate, Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. 

Trump released a statement that “it was God alone who prevented the unthinkable from happening.”  But was it also “God alone” who took away the life of Corey Comperatore, the volunteer firefighter who attended the rally with his wife and daughter?

If hate speech were on the ballot, Trump would win in a landslide.  Since he ran for president in 2015, he has not followed normal protocols as a national political figure.   He says things that no other president has ever said, yet that is part of his appeal for a good portion of Americans.   His focus is divisiveness, not unity.

Unfortunately for the Democrats, Biden’s health has declined, most notably on display in the debate a few weeks ago.  Ever since then, there has been another type of assassination brewing, non-violent but still lethal.  Joe must go.  Each day there is another headline of an even more powerful Democrat who jumps on the bandwagon.  If this were Shakespeare’s play Julius Caesar, the senators would call a meeting with the president concealing daggers, distracting Biden until each senator took turns stabbing their leader, with Vice President Harris, the loyal Brutus figure, providing the final blow as Biden cries out, “Et tu, Kamala?”

For Trump supporters, the past few weeks have been a combination of Mardi Gras and the Fourth of July rolled into one big MAGA celebration.  The Republicans are so confident in the election that when Trump spoke at the convention, they didn’t wait for his inauguration in January.  He stood in front of an IMAX-sized image of the White House, as if to show he’s already returned.

Unlike, the attempt on Trump’s life (a bullet grazed the top of his ear), the “killing” of Biden will be successful.

What it comes down to is this.  Even though Trump is the only president in history who has been impeached twice and found guilty of a felonious crime, the things that should disqualify him are, one, not accepting the results of the 2020 election, two, inciting people to storm the Capitol on Jan. 6 and not putting a stop to it for over three hours, and three, the only president not to attend the inauguration of his successor, a sacred symbol of democracy’s smooth transition.

For those of us who believe in the law, thank goodness Mike Pence also shared that belief by validating the results of the presidential election.   Would possible future vice president Vance do the same thing if he ran for president in 2028 and had to certify the results of an election he lost?

A few days after the shooting, President Biden put in a call to Comperatore’s widow to offer his condolences; however, she refused the call “because of her husband’s political views.”  Imagine refusing to accept a call from the President of the United States?  That’s how bad it’s gotten in this country.

Leave a comment Posted on Donald Trump, Joe Biden, presidential debate

Trump Looked Healthier Than Biden: So What?

I recall Muhammad Ali’s last boxing match against Trevor Berbick in 1981.  At almost 40 years old and out of shape, it was a shame to see the greatest boxer of all time stand motionless, covering his head with his gloves, moving his body back against the ropes, avoiding contact to his aged body.

That’s what I thought of as I watched President Joe Biden debate Former President Donald Trump.

If you plan on voting for him, it was painful to watch.  No one wants to see a decent person look feeble.  But he is 81.

If you plan on voting for Trump, the fourth of July came early.  Shoot off the fireworks.

Presidential debates are a form of entertainment where viewers tune in to see if their guy can make the other guy look bad.  And Biden looked bad, but Trump sounded worse, his lies and hyperboles swimming in superlatives:  “He’s the worst,” “I’m the greatest.”

Close your eyes, don’t be fooled by the “Apprentice” reality star, and listen to what he says about the country you love.  He sounds anti-American.  Remember his Inaugural speech which painted a dark and damaged picture of America? 

The first televised debate of presidential candidates happened in 1960 between Vice President Richard Nixon and Senator John Kennedy.  People who watched the first debate thought that Kennedy won it.  Those who heard the debate on radio thought that Nixon won it.  And ever since then, Americans have chosen presidents based more on their appearance than on their substance.

If that history is any indication, God help America with a second Trump term.

For me, I don’t care what policies Biden or Trump which to implement, how they feel about Ukraine or Israel, about immigration or inflation.  This election is about democracy.

I will vote for Biden because of what he represents—stability, the Constitution, honesty, decency.  A vote for Trump represents chaos, anarchy, lying, meanness.

It stuns me that just 12 years ago, Americans voted for Barack Obama’s second term.  I’m not sure if he were running today if he would get re-elected.

For those Americans who still believe in voting for the candidate who will best lead the most vital country in the world in the future, I’d rather have a frail old man than a hateful one.

Trump thrives on attention and he has already made his mark in history.

He is the first president to be impeached twice.

He is the only former president to be a convicted felon.

He is the only president to break with the traditional smooth transition of power began by George Washington when he refused to attend Biden’s Inauguration.  That act is what separates us from other countries.

People have short memories of when Trump was in office.  Not a week went by without a hysterical false statement from him or a cabinet member resigning from the chaotic West Wing.

After the debate, it is surprising how many Democrats dumped on Biden or wish to drop him off the ticket.

There is one thing Biden has going for him more than any other Democrat:  he beat Trump by seven million votes.

When your guy is down, it is not the time to step on him, but to offer support, to get him up from the mat.

This election is not about Americans’ personal financial situations, it is about America’s democratic situation.

The question foremost on Americans’ minds should not be, “Are you better off today than you were four years ago?”  The question must be, “Is democracy better off today than it was four years ago?”

The clear answer is January 6, 2021.  Trump almost didn’t leave office.  He refused to accept facts that he lost the election.  If he’s elected again, what will he do come January 6, 2029?  He may never leave the White House.  His followers will be more violent.  How can voters hand over the keys to American democracy into his hands again?  This country will never be the same again.

Leave a comment Posted on Jerry West, Los Angeles Lakers, Sandy Koufax

Mr. Clutch, My Hero

As a little boy, I had no aspirations of becoming a professional athlete.  I was short, overweight and had zero natural abilities.  But I had a basketball hoop attached to the backyard patio roofline where I shot 16-footers every day imagining I was Jerry West of the Los Angeles Lakers.

That’s why it was sad to hear the news that the NBA Hall of Famer had passed away at 86.

West along with Hall of Fame Dodger pitcher Sandy Koufax were my two biggest sports idols growing up.

Jerry West had a handful of nicknames including Mr. Clutch and The Logo.  The one I liked best was the lyrical Zeke from Cabin Creek making him seem mythical.

I respected his tenacity to want the ball every time he dribbled down the court, especially during playoff games.  In his 14-year career, he made almost have of his shots which is why I felt confident that whenever he had the ball in his hands the Lakers had a chance to win. 

He had his nose broken nine times.  Imagine having the courage to go through that and to continue playing at an intense level, unafraid of driving to the basket.

The one Achille’s heal was his inability to beat the Boston Celtics in the NBA Finals.  The Celtics beat the Lakers all six times they played each other with West on the team.  Even when the Lakers clearly had the superior team in 1969, something always happened which prevented the Lakers from claiming victory. 

Three of those contests went seven games:  only seven points separated the two teams in those deciding matches.

Laker fans felt the heartache of Jerry West who despite playoff heroics could not find a way to get the leprechaun off the Lakers’ backs.  In fact, he outplayed everyone in 1969 in points and assists, averaging 38 points per game making half of his shots, earning the MVP award, the only time a player on a losing team won it.  That did little to take away the sting from West’s psyche.

In his memoir, West described the depression he felt whenever the Lakers fell short of a title.  Even after his playing days were over and he became an award-winning basketball executive, West could not sit and watch his Lakers in playoff games.  He had to stand in a hallway away from the court, or drive around town in his car.  It’s funny that I used to do the same thing as a fan, unable to watch critical moments in a game, fearful that the Lakers would lose again.

Jerry finally won his one and only championship in 1972.  That team had the best record ever by an NBA team at the time of 69-13 which included a 33-game winning streak, the most consecutive wins by any team that still stands today.

When I was 13, I chronicled the streak by cutting out sports articles from the newspaper and taping them into a scrapbook.  

Earlier that same year, Sandy Koufax was voted into the Baseball Hall of Fame, a good year for my idols.

I was fortunate enough attend the game when the Lakers won that elusive NBA championship against the New York Knicks.

When tickets went on sale for the Finals, my sister Debra drove me to the Fabulous Forum in Inglewood.  After waiting in line for hours, we were able to get tickets for Game Five at the face value price of $15.  That wouldn’t even get you a beer at a game today.  Of course, we weren’t sure if there would be a Game Five at the time.

As it turned out, the Lakers were up three games to one when they returned home at LAX on May 6th to play for the championship at the Forum the next day. 

We were so excited that my sister drove us to LAX to see the players. For people younger than 50, what I’m about to tell you may seem shocking.  

Back then, professional athletes would de-plane at the same terminal as the general public and walk by themselves (no entourages) towards the carousel baggage claim area.  Security was scarce so my sister and I stood back watching the players wait around for their bags.  That was a perfect opportunity for me to ask for their autographs.

And then there he was, number 44, Jerry West, 20 yards away from me—and I froze.  I was too nervous to approach him for an autograph.

Instead, I settled for two of the five starters, starting forwards Happy Hairston and Jim McMillian, and back-up center Leroy Ellis.  I even got Hall of Fame announcer Chick Hearn’s signature as well.

When my brother, sister and I went to the game the next day.  Based on past experiences, we had no confidence that they could finally win a championship, but they did, beating the Knicks 114-100.  It was the only time I was at a sporting event that resulted in my team winning a trophy.

I feel fortunate that both of my boyhood sports heroes have lived long lives (Koufax will turn 89 later this year).  Though I never shook their hands or got autographs, it has been a warm feeling knowing that they were still around for most of my life.

A page from my scrapbook chronicling the 1971-72 Lakers.

2 Comments Posted on Father's Day

Here’s to my Sons

For me Father’s Day is not accurately named.  It should be Children’s Day for without children there would be no fathers.

As a child, I always looked forward to both Mother’s and Father’s days.  My older brother, sister and I would make up signs and hang them up early in the morning so that when Mom and Dad woke up, they’d be surprised.  We also created our own greeting cards.

Those days hold a special place in my heart because it gave us a chance to show our appreciation and love for the best parents any kid could have.

I only had 15 Father’s Days with my dad before he died, but it felt less than that because I was too young to recall the first five or so.

In seeking out photos with my father and me for this column, I was stunned to discover that only two exist.  One was taken at my elementary school promotion ceremony and the other was in our house. 

While we both look nice in the 1970 promotion photo, it is posed.  The way we appear in the candid photo from 1971 when I was 13 years old captures a moment of life.  I’m not sure what my dad was thinking about as he looked past the camera or what I have in my hand (a harmonica?), but the most significant detail shows my affection for my father:  my hand resting on his shoulder.  And, boy, do I wish I had a shoebox full of those photos now.

This year will mark my 26th Father’s Day.  It is an honor to be a dad which is why this Father’s Day is a tribute not to me but to our sons:  Ben (25) and Max (20).  Without them, this Sunday would just be any Sunday.

For the past two years, my wife and I have been empty nesters since Ben works in Salt Lake City and Max attends college up north.

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder” is an old saying, but there is a reason it has stayed around because it is true.  As much as my wife and I love one another and enjoy each other’s company, not a day goes by when we don’t think of what Ben and Max are doing or recall a cherished moment with them.  When the phone rings and their names appear on the tiny screen, my heart smiles.  I can’t wait to hear their voice.

We still have beds in their former bedrooms.  Each room still has evidence of a child from games to trophies.  Their smiling faces at various stages of life look at us in frames all around the house.

The last Father’s Day I spent with both boys was back in 2022.  Shortly thereafter, Ben moved to his new job.  Max has been with me the past two years because his college finals wrap up before Father’s Day. That’s good because not having any of the boys with me would not be Father’s Day.

Notice that in the photo from 2022 where my hands are this time–hugging my sons.

It has been a pleasure watching them blossom into young men, navigating their own path through life’s highs and lows, still retaining their core values.  It makes me feel good whenever they say or do something that reminds me that they paid attention to how they grew up with my wife and me.  There were times when it didn’t seem they were listening, but they were.

That’s when I think about how lucky I am to have lived this long to see the child to adult transformation, a transition which my father never witnessed with me.

Dad and Brian at elementary school promotion.
Dad and Brian at home.

Brian with Max and Ben.

Leave a comment Posted on Andy McCullough, Bill Plaschke, Bob Miller, Chris Erskine, Clayton Kershaw, Fred Claire, Pat Morrison, Paul Haddad, Perfect Eloquence, Ron Rapoport, Sammy Roth, Stories Books and Cafe, The Last of His Kind, Tom Hoffarth, Vin Scully, Vroman's Bookstore

My Blue Heaven

When was the last time you were at a book event?  You know, where the author talks about his new book, takes questions from the audience, then signs your copy, personalizing it for you?

It has been a while since I was last at one, but this month I’ve been to two; coincidentally both books are related to the Los Angeles Dodgers. 

One book event was held at Vroman’s in Pasadena, an institution among independent bookstores since 1894; it is up for sale which makes its numerous loyal customers very nervous.

Perfect Eloquence:  An Appreciation of Vin Scully, edited by Tom Hoffarth, is a compendium of Vin Scully stories about the legendary Dodger announcer who passed away in 2022.

The physical book cover is printed in Dodger blue with an illustration of a microphone.

The top floor of the bookstore was overflowing with people.  This is the effect Vin Scully has on people two years after he passed away at age 94.

In addition to editor Hoffarth, seven other contributors were also in attendance:  journalists Chris Erskine, Paul Haddad, Pat Morrison, Ron Rapoport, Sammy Roth, and two very special guests, Hall of Fame announcer for the Los Angeles Kings Bob Miller and former Los Angeles Dodger executive Fred Claire.

Each one spoke about the piece they wrote for the book.  Each remembrance shared one thing in common:  that Vin Scully was the most generous man they every knew.  Notice that the focus is on the man, not the voice, which is how Vin Scully himself would have preferred to be remembered. 

Paul Haddad reminisced about the one time he met Vin Scully a couple of hours before a ballgame.  When he was escorted to the Press Box by a Dodger official, he saw Vin speaking into a microphone.  Haddad asked the official, “Is he recording commercials?”  The man responded, “No, he’s practicing.”  This story underscored how prepared Vin Scully was no matter how long he did the job, and he did the Dodger announcing job for 67 years.

The stories shared by Fred Claire were the most significant ones for he had a 50-year friendship with Vin.  He knew him better than anyone.

Fred Claire said that Vin had a perfect life in that he grasped the meaning of how to live one’s life:  being gracious to others.  He mentioned one time at Dodger Stadium a young reporter armed with a tape recorder came to interview Vin Scully before a ballgame.  The interview lasted 45 minutes.  Afterwards, Claire looked at the reporter who had tears in his eyes.  It turned out the tape recorder wasn’t working.  So Claire explained the situation to Vin, who said, “Tell the young man we’ll do the interview again.”

Claire spoke about how Vin and Jackie Robinson were very similar in their temperament.  At one of the last baseball events Jackie attended, when his vision was so diminished that lights had to be turned off whenever he was inside, a fan from the stands threw a baseball towards Robinson for him to sign, unaware about his poor eyesight.  Not seeing the ball, it bounced off his shoulder and hit his head.  People around him were yelling at security to throw the man out, but Jackie asked for the ball, signed it, and told people, “Return this to the gentleman.”

As Robinson famously said, “A life is not important except in the impact it has on other lives.”  In Jackie’s and Vin’s case, they were very important people indeed.

The second event took place at Stories Books and Cafe in Echo Park.  Andy McCullough, a senior writer at the Athletic, wrote The Last of His Kind:  Clayton Kershaw & The Burden of Greatness about future Hall of Famer pitcher Clayton Kershaw.  Andy was a beat writer for the Los Angeles Times covering the Dodgers which is how he knew Kershaw.  His former Times colleague, famed columnist Bill Plaschke, was the moderator.

What made the event extra special for me was that both McCullough and Plaschke visited my journalism classes.  When I did the high school newspaper, I would reach out to professional journalists to inspire my young students. 

When I mentioned this to both men that night, they did recall those outings.  Plaschke even remembered the name of a couple of my students who have remained in touch with him over the years.  I told him that I retired from teaching in 2020; he went up to me, shook my hand and said, “Bless you for what did.”

I happened to be the first person in line to have McCullough sign a book.  He didn’t have a pen, but I did and gave it to him.  After opening the book to locate a place to sign, he paused, puzzled and said, “I’ve never done this before, what do I write?”  That day was the release of the book so this was his very first signing event.

My initial thought was to tell him that I had two books published and had signings, but instead told him blandly, “Write ‘thanks for your interest’.”

If you’re a Dodger fan, you will have “interest” in having these two insightful new books published in the same month.  They will put you in Blue Heaven.

Editor Tom Hoffarth, contributors Sammy Roth, Paul Haddad, Ron Rapoport, Fred Claire, Chris Erskine, Bob Miller, Pat Morrison at Vroman’s Bookstore.

Author Andy McCullough and Moderator/Columnist Bill Plaschke at Stories Bookstore.

Leave a comment Posted on Jerry Seinfeld, Jim Gaffigan, Nate Bargatze, Netflix Joke Fest, Sebastian Maniscalco

Laughter is No Joke

It seems that every day the world gets worse.  It makes one yearn for the good old days of the Pandemic shutdown when for a short while countries weren’t invading other countries and there was a unified universal effort to invent a vaccine for Covid-19.

These days I find myself taking days off from reading the news, intentionally ignorant of elections, trials and protests.  A daily dose of negativity can easily trigger depression.

For a while now, I balance the “end of the world” headlines with more positive stories about people, about decency, about compassion.

There is another anecdote to all the daily direness:  laughter.

Last week, my wife, sister and I went to see comedians Jerry Seinfeld, Sebastian Maniscalco,

Jim Gaffigan, and Nate Bargatze at the Hollywood Bowl as part of Netflix’s Joke Fest.

Each comic did a 30-minute set.  I’m not exaggerating that I can’t recall the last time I have laughed so hard.  Yes, my jaw was sore after the two-hour concert.  The night was a master class in comedy.

I’m not sure why those four comedians in particular were performing together.  However, what made the humor so pleasing was the lack of jokes about politics and sex, two topics that make up the centerpiece of so many stand-up comics’ repertoire.  And, except for a few times, no obscenities were used—proof that one doesn’t have to be vulgar to be funny.

These four men didn’t tell jokes, per se; rather, they told stories about everyday occurrences in life that so many people have experienced.  For example, Gaffigan described how computer programs prompt us to continuously change our passwords, then ask for verification that we are not robots by asking us to pick out a stoplight from a series of photos.  He struggles with this because if there is an image of a pole that is cut off, does that count as a signal? 

Each comedian has his own way of speaking, his own facial expressions, and his own physical movements.  Sebastian described taking his young family to Universal Studios and his interactions with employees who really don’t want to be there.  “What’s the deal with the quality of the Los Angeles workforce?” But it’s his bulging eyes and outstretched arms as he bends his body that make it funny.

Adding to the enjoyment was the laughter of 18,000 fellow Angelenos from all walks of life in the audience.  Laughter unified us.

It is said that the aphorism “laughter is the best medicine” originates from the Old Testament. 

Writer Norman Cousins decades ago wrote about the healing of laughter when he was diagnosed with a disease and was given a one out of 500 chance of surviving.  He attributed his recovery in part to watching Marx Brothers movies and “Candid Camera” TV episodes.

Well, that night, I felt I was hooked up to an IV of joy for two hours.  I highly recommend it for everybody.