Tombstone

On my frequent visits home to Philadelphia I try to visit the family burial plot. The last time I drove in I parked in the general area and walked between the graves looking for our plot. I came across a tomb stone with a friend's name on it - but I had just talked to him the previous day - and I did a double-take.
It showed his birth year but, thankfully, not a deceased year. I called him again to tell him of my finding.
 He had buried his wife a few years before and decided to have both names engraved at the same time. I am all for economy but I was going to accuse him of getting a two-fer. I think he wanted to make sure his name was spelled correctly when he wouldn't be around. And he being an accountant probably felt he was paying by the letter. One thing I am sure of - it is very quiet in the cemetery.
tjs
Next - All Fools Day

Irony

Last week Ford Motor told all their dealers to stop taking orders for any vehicles painted Tuxedo Black. This due to pigment supply shortages from Japan. In 1908 when Henry Ford rolled out the first Model T he said you can have any color you want as long as it's Black. What a difference a century makes.
tjs
Next - Tombstone

March Madness

Sunday as I watched North Carolina play a game in a New Jersey arena I watched their mascot prance around the floor. The last time they were in New Jersey for this tournament their student mascot was struck by a vehicle while walking outside the arena. His I.D. indicated him to be an organ donor. His parents came up from their home and generously agreed to his wishes and now three people are alive with the benefit of his foresight and generosity. While the Tarheels did not win this recent game they left behind some poignant memories of what occurred several years before.  So with a touch of sadness we now have March Madness to distract us one more week as we move on to Houston. This tournament is well run as they spread the largesse around thirteen cities compared with the Super Bowl which only benefits one. And CBS is running the show so we don't have to listen to Dick Vitale. My sentimental favorite is Butler and I sympathize with all of you whose brackets have been fractured. So let the games begin.
tjs
Next - Irony

Elocution

 

 My mother was born in 1890 and her generation growing up had to entertain themselves. They performed amateur theatricals in their parishes, many homes had a piano in the parlor and they practiced "elocution". Some of the recitations were named "The Face on the Barroom Floor" and "The Dukite Snake". Believe it or not I found these "poems" on Google. My own experience with elocution was solitary. As a student in a Christian Brothers prep school I was urged by a teacher I respected to enter the school elocution contest. He rehearsed me one on one as I did a reading and memorization of Marc Antony's oration at Caesar's funeral - the opening of which I can still recall word for word. The other entrants in the contest were four drama students who had performed in student plays and were very comfortable on the stage. But I then learned that I could not use my rehearsal speech and was assigned a new reading - "The Deathbed of Benedict Arnold." I now had to switch my delivery from a Roman general to a disgraced Colonial general. This presentation was to be delivered before the entire student body.  On the appointed day I did my best - drawing a few blanks but pressing on - with sweating palms and knees knocking - and exited stage left to polite applause - but no eggs or tomatoes were thrown. Needless to say, I came in fifth but always thanked that Christian Brother for pushing me beyond my expectations.
tjs
Next - March Madness

The Martini

With apologies to those of you who are observing Lent and abstaining, herewith my humble offering at Friday humor...................... About this cocktail, Ogden Nash one of my favorite punster poets wrote as follows:
- There is something about a Martini, an aura delightfully pleasant -
  A yellow, a mellow Martini - I wish that I had one at present -
  There is something about a Martini, ere the dining and dancing begin -
  But to tell you the truth - it is not the vermouth - I think that perhaps it's the Gin.

And Dorothy Parker, she of the acerbic wit, wrote of it as follows:
-"I like a Martini - one or two at most - with three I'm under the table -
  with four I'm under the host."Oops!
tjs
Next - Elocution (Mon.)

Addiction to the Grape

It had to happen! In 2008 the U.S. passed France as the world's largest wine consuming nation - but that was because of our larger population. On a per capita basis we can't touch them. They consume fourteen gallons per annum per person - man, woman and child - while we abstemious Americans put away 2.6 gallons. They start early and often and young. They are drinking while we are sipping. From a marketing standpoint they do an excellent job of promotion - and protecting their brands. They beat the drum for the Nouveau Beaujolais in November to see who can be first on the shelf. One year there was talk of parachuting a case in to an eager dealer.

The U.S.Lines European V.P. stationed in London traditionally was an American. They called him their "guv'nor" Each year he would be invited down to the Burgundy region of France for the annual wine tasting. Before he left he would be an expert. After some perfunctory sips and twirling in the glass they would certify him as a "Chevalier du Tastevin", place a chain around his neck with a certificate/diploma to attest. So if he ever needed to moonlight in a second career he could don the red jacket and chain and you might meet this sommelier in your favorite restaurant. As they say in sipping circles "Good nose - nice legs - great finish."
tjs
Next - The Martini

The Bicentennial

I had the good fortune to attend the Bicentennial celebration in New York Harbor during the July 4th 1976 weekend. The central event was the parade of the Tall Ships from many countries. Having joined a sailing club out of City Island I reserved a berth on the MARY E a small schooner acting as one of the many spectator boats. The Tall Ships had already marshaled in Bermuda and sailed up to anchor off the Atlantic Highlands in New Jersey. But the smaller boats were being hosted at the many yacht clubs on Long Island Sound. So I joined MARY E at the Larchmont Yacht Club on the Friday evening and on Saturday all our class boats sailed single file down the East River. The high rises along the river bank hung banners out their windows - it was a festive greeting. As we hit Hell Gate where the river narrows it got choppy requiring engines. Our assigned anchorage was just north of the Verrazano Bridge where we spent Saturday night. On mid-morning Sunday the Tall Ships appeared led by the U.S. Coast Guard EAGLE dressed with flags and with sailors up on the spars. Following came vessels from France, England, Norway, Denmark, Spain, Argentina and two from Russia. The harbor was extremely crowded with all types of craft and the Coast Guard did a great job of traffic control. Pres. Gerald Ford was there aboard a cruiser anchored off New Jersey. Mid-afternoon a squall came up and all the boats scattered. Their and our destination was up the Hudson River where berths were assigned and we rafted up alongside several boats and the partying commenced. Except that the Russian boats were not permitted to dock and spent their night at anchor in the Hudson. An attempt to repeat this scene was carried out ten years later but the original celebration was the greatest weekend I ever spent on the water. Wish you all were there.
tjs
Next - An Addiction to the Grape

Weddings

 During WWII there were frequent mid-week weddings as the groom was going off to war. If the nun liked you she would excuse you for classes for several hours for you to act as altar server and witness this ceremony up close - and hopefully get a five dollar tip which was huge back then. The rite pronounced by the priest was serious stuff - i.e. "til death do us part." And the vow taken by the "participants" included old English words i.e. "and unto you I plight my troth." Pretty heavy. With a more formal wedding the brides wore long gowns with a "train" trailing behind. These required a third attendant to act as "train bearer" to lift this flowing fabric - but not too high - and follow the bride all over the altar lest she trip. There was no training for this job and you had no rehearsal. Funerals were not the same happy occasion and usually paid less. The worst situation would be a ten o'clock wedding running late and an eleven o'clock funeral arriving early - with the bride and groom going down the steps under a shower of rice and passing the casket on the way in. And then seeing two sets of black limos and hopefully getting in the right one. Back then the wedding came first and the baby arrived later. In recent times the situation is sometimes reversed. A priest friend told me of a couple walking up the aisle to be married pulling their infant in a little red wagon. In the rush to leave the church the wagon was left behind. After the honeymoon a mother-in-law came to the priest to try to claim it - but it was nowhere in the lost & found.
Can only assume that someone else wanted to use it.
tjs
Next - The Bicentennial

The Altar Boy

 Growing up in a Irish Catholic household with an aunt in the convent, it is not surprising that I became an altar "server". This was twenty years before Vatican II and the Mass was celebrated in Latin. So it was that I had to learn the Latin responses - by memory and rote - not necessarily understanding the meaning.
If you were assigned the 6:30AM mass - Monday thru Saturday - you had to rise early and carry the "uniform" - a cassock and surplice - on a hanger - a mile and a half to church - after mass rush home for breakfast and back to school for classes. There were very few in the pews at that early mass but there was a row of nuns in the front pew listening to your mumbling Latin - and if your partner was sick you had no one to cover any memory lapses and of course you heard about it later in class. The duties included lighting the candles, presenting the water and wine and ringing the bells at the consecration. Our church had fancy "bells" comparable to a miniature vibraphone with a soft hammer. But you didn't dare improvise - it was strictly do -re - mi then mi -re - do - similar to the signal on the old NBC radio station.
A Benediction service required four servers - two candle bearers, one to carry the incense "boat" and the senior member of the team to carry the incense "shaker". To get the incense to burn you had to light the charcoal in advance which was a messy task. This service required lighting seven branch candle sticks reaching high with a wick on a pole - knowing everyone was watching you.  Tomorrow will address weddings and funerals as observed by a thirteen year old.
tjs
Next - Weddings

Revenge is Sweet

My friend Joe B. grew up in South Philadelphia and was very street wise. After working with me for several years he left to rescue a family member who was losing money on a ARCO gas station on the north side of the city. Working twelve hour days and with his people skills he put the business on its feet. He even attracted commercial clients - one we will call Atkins Home Decorating - who brought in their van for service. Later they brought in a second van and soon ran up a mid-three digit bill - and then they stopped coming in. Phone calls to resolve went unanswered. The debt was high enough to hurt but not enough for legal action - so Joe was ready to write it off. Then one night he went home to New Jersey and his wife announced that a man visited that day and gave an estimate on new drapes. The letterhead read "Atkins Home Decorating". She said she liked the drapes and Joe said get them installed, give him a check and call me at the station. When all this was done Joe called his bank and stopped payment on the check - and waited. Several nights later his phone rang - the caller identified himself as "Atkins" and said there seemed to be a problem with the check Joe's wife gave him. Joe said "Do you know who I am?"
 There was a long pause - then Atkins said - "Oops, you got me" Joe said "I guess we're even." Atkins said -"I hope you like the drapes." This whole scenario recalled the famous Bogart line in CASABLANCA - "With all the gin joints in the world, she had to walk into mine." Or - with the thousands of homes in New Jersey, he happened to walk into that one. God is good.
tjs
Next - The Altar Boy (Mon.)

St. Patrick's Day

                                                                                  (Photo by Gerry Smith)

We are all Irish today! It's March seventeen and even the Chicago River is running green. Some cities paint green stripes down the middle of the street. And then there are the parades - with all the counties of Ireland represented by their societies - the fife and drums bands - and the pipers in their kilts. I recall them parading up Fifth Avenue in New York and up Broad Street in Philadelphia. But the most famous of all is reported to be in Savannah, Georgia. Now the search is on to try to find Irish soda bread in a northeast Florida town. But there are enough Irish pubs to keep the Guinness pouring, the fiddles playing and conversation and conviviality long into the evening. Hopefully, you all receive a dispensation from the Lenten fast as I claim as a senior. Erin go bragh! (Ireland Forever!)
tjs
PS - I found some soda bread.
Next - Revenge is Sweet

The Black Sheep

I recently introduced you to my former colleague, Cletus K. He must have been a hell raiser in his youth. His father's law firm was counsel to USLines so we knew he was "connected". When he was in his last year at Georgetown his father inquired what he wanted to do next. He replied that he would like to join his firm. The old man said "I have a stellar reputation in my field which I would like to keep - I suggest you find another endeavor." So Cletus bounced around, then joined the U.S. Air Force where he became a pilot of multi-engine propeller aircraft ferrying notables around the globe during WWII. He once carried Jimmy Byrnes who was Secretary of State at the time. His stories of flying into places  like Calcutta and Karachi are hilarious but too long to tell. In later years he wore a hearing aid and when he had his ears fixed he said he could hear the cat purring. His brother (the white sheep) became an Abbot in the Trappist Monks. They usually had their monasteries in the mountains - which happened to be near ski resorts. When Cletus would visit his brother he always brought his skis and some liquid anti-freeze which he shared with the monks and brothers who stopped making jelly to join in the celebration much to the consternation of the Abbot.
tjs
Next- St Patrick's Day

The Ides of March

 March 15th - this is the day that Caesar should have called in sick - and not gone to the senate. He thought his "friends"  had his back - but what he had was a "shiv" in his back. (And in his front) Fast forward to our own Senate where the call for civility is sometimes being ignored. The statesmen of old have long passed on. The tone is changing - although no knives have been flashed. One thing that fascinates me about Washington D.C. is that any members of congress who are either defeated or choose not to run do not want to go home. They all want to segue down to K Street to become lobbyists. No wonder housing is tight. New people coming in - old people staying.
March 15th used to be the I.R.S. filing date - now they give us until April 15th  - another month to chew our nails. Anyway, Spring is just around the corner.
tjs
Next - The Black Sheep

Writer's Block

 S.J. Perelman was one of my favorite humorists. A native New Yorker to the core, he had also done some script writing for the Marx Brothers, but his roots were in Manhattan. It was a time when many authors and writers were moving to Bucks County in Pennsylvania following James A. Michener and others seeking inspiration in the quiet wooded surroundings. But soon Perelman moved back to Manhattan and his friends were concerned for his safety and curious why he would leave the leafy Pennsylvania enclave.
His answer was that by going to Bucks Co. he "lost the New York idiom" and couldn't turn the phrase as he once did. Only a writer would understand.
tjs
Next - The Ides of March
(P.S. - The keeper of the blogosphere archives reminds me that today is my 125th posting. To date I have not encountered any "writer's block" so far. I'm sure that someday I will hit the wall.  But every writer likes to receive feedback. I hope you enjoy my writing and I appreciate that your time is valuable and limited.)

Sales Calls III

One of our young salesmen invited a V.P. to accompany him on calls in the Atlanta area. The client was a manufacturer/exporter of contraceptives and the Traffic Manager was a woman and to relax her visitors she threw a sample of her wares on the desk as souvenirs. She then said that she was soon to be married and might the ceremony take place on one of our ships with the Captain presiding? Our V.P. was not one to back off a challenge and so ordered the marine department to have the S.S. AMERICAN ALLIANCE
in the port of Jacksonville on the appointed day and also to request the Captain to perform the ceremony wearing his dress whites. And so the knot was tied and the happy couple came down the gangway clutching a ship's life preserver with our salesman showering them with rice. Now, the ALLIANCE has long gone to the scrap yard but we like to think that the "alliance" formed that day has endured.
tjs
Sequel - A manufacturer of condoms received an order from Russia with the size requested in centimeters but way off the charts. They puzzled how to treat it and called in the production manager
to review. He thought they might be bragging and suggested they fill the order as requested and stamp all the cartons MEDIUM.
Next - Writer's Block (Mon.)

The longest walk

As a young gofer one of my tasks was to escort our sea captains to the Customs House to perform the bureaucratic paperwork to enter and clear their ships. This Monday morning we had two ships in port and I was to take the two masters at the same time. What I did not know was that these two seasoned seafarers were not on speaking terms. They came from different backgrounds and cultures. Capt. Archie of the SCOUT was Scandinavian, very stoic - he had sailed before the mast on clipper ships around Cape Horn in the mid 1920s and proudly wore his Cap Hornier crest on his blazer. Capt. JJD on the PLANTER was a tall southern gentleman, had been thru Annapolis and was a bit eccentric in that he always wore sandals and grew flowers on the ship i.e. the PLANTER. We walked the four blocks in silence. But they did have one thing in common - they had both been prisoners of the Japanese in WWII and their differing experiences may have been the source of their enmity. In any event, words were exchanged on parting and it was the longest walk of my life.
tjs
Next - Sales Calls III

Ash Wednesday

In 1733, Fr. Joseph Greaton, SJ, erected a small chapel in an alley at 4th and Walnut. (In Philadelphia, Pa.) The building—and its location—was inconspicuous, but it drew the attention of Pennsylvania’s Provincial Council, where it was reported that there was "no small concern to hear that a House lately built in Walnut Street was sett apart for the Exercise of the Roman Catholick Religion and it is commonly called the Romish Chappell, where Mass [is] openly celebrated by a Popish priest, contrary to the Laws of England."  The public practice of Catholicism was at that time contrary to the laws of England, but the council deferred judgment against Greaton to the governor, who chose not to notify the king. By deciding not to decide, the governor made Old Saint Joseph’s the only place in the colonies where Mass could be celebrated legally.

Not only did this church escape the pressure of the King of England in the eighteenth century,, it also was spared from the Know Nothing rioting mob of the mid-nineteenth century who burned several churches on their way down 4th Street. In the above photo the priest is distributing ashes on Ash Wednesday to parishoners.  The phrase he recites reminds us of our mortality which I think of daily.

On a personal note, my bride-to-be and I visited Old St. Joseph's the day before our wedding. I haven't been back since but not because of the  penance doled out by that old Jesuit priest.

Mea Culpa!
tjs
Next - The Longest Walk

Carnival

One snowy February I planned a getaway to Trinidad. Trinidad & Tobago are pretty far down the island chain it was about four hours via PANAM. The hotel in Port of Spain was built on the side of a mountain and when you entered the lobby you took the elevator DOWN to your room. It was known as the Upside Down Hilton. I was scheduled to fly home on a Saturday when the PANAM representative said if I could stay an extra day I could witness the Carnival parade rehearsal with all the steel bands performing - there was the Esso steel band and a dozen others stoked by a little rum and sun. PANAM rebooked me and put me up at their guest house overnight. (Too bad they are out of business) On Sunday the bands paraded on the local "savannah" park and the beat was infectious. After which the calypso singers performed their double-entendere lyrics. It was another instance of serendipity coming my way and grasping it.
tjs
Next - Ash Wednesday

Christmas Eve

In the 1950s the cargo ships of that era carried a crew of fifty sprinkled among the deck, engine and stewards departments. We had a ship arriving one Christmas Eve for a morning operation and with minimal cargo could be finished by noon which was good as the stevedore labor would be quitting at noon for the long holiday period. But the captain was reluctant to sail as he didn't want to be at sea for Christmas Eve and he announced at mid-morning that - for reason of hospitalization or attrition - he was short one Ordinary Seaman (OS) from his minimum requirement and since the union hall was closed for the holiday he would be unable to sail. There was NO WAY our Opers. Mgr. - Big Mike - wanted that crew in port over Christmas as they would have overflowed the local jails. He reviewed the crew list and saw that the ship had a surplus of Able Bodied Seamen (AB) one of whom we shall call Floyd Williams from Kingston, Jamaica. We happened to have on staff one Harry M. who had been a purser with Moore-McCormack Lines and who had a flair for dialects and could duplicate a British Caribbean accent to a tee. Big Mike "persuaded" Harry to phone the Shipping Commissioner to advise that he, Floyd Williams of Kingston, Jamaica was willing to step down to Ordinary Seaman just for the overnight trip to Baltimore. Miraculously, and perhaps in the Christmas spirit, the Commissioner accepted this verbal advice, amended the coastwise articles (crew list) and Mike advised the Captain he had his O.S. and he sailed on the outgoing tide.
tjs
Next - Carnival

Sales Calls II

My sales territory included all of eastern Pennsylvania. The epitome of a company town was Hershey, Pa. - better known as Chocolate Town. Milton Hershey had built housing for his employees and also founded a school for fatherless boys on a scale similar to what Stephen Girard did for orphans in Philadelphia. As you approached this city you could smell it five miles away. The office lobby was decorated in dark hues with chocolate colored leather chairs, pictures of the founder on the wall and there was a jar of chocolate kisses on the receptionist's credenza. I cooled my heels awaiting my interview and was soon summoned to an upper floor to see the powerful Traffic Manager. In those days my summer uniform included a straight sailor straw hat also known as a skimmer. I deposited my hat on the receptionist's credenza and went up to do business. Upon returning to the lobby I picked up my hat and putting it own revealed a shower of kisses wrappers enveloping my head and shoulders. Fortunately, only the receptionist witnessed this embarrassment and I went on my way.
tjs
Next - Christmas Eve (Monday)

War is Hell

Our operations manager in London before and after WWII was a chap named Ted C. who had a colorful career.  He first apprenticed to the predecessor of USLines circa 1929 in the East End office formerly occupied by the White Star Line (TITANIC). Even at that late date the crewmen's widows dressed in black would appear there seeking some compensation. During WWII Ted was in charge of a stevedore port battalion in support of General Bernard Montgomery in the north African port of Alexandria, Egypt.
All American cargo ships then were being operated by the U.S.Maritime Commission. It was circa 1942 and a USLines ship was sitting at anchor waiting her turn to be unloaded. The general had a habit of visiting these ships at random to keep everyone on their toes. He always wore a beret and was a stickler for spit and polish performance. This day he came alongside our ship with his entourage of officers and was brought on board. Our captain was ashore and the mate was in his bunk in his underwear coping with the heat with only a porthole for air. The mate roused from bed, grabbed a bottle of scotch and offered his guests a drink. "Monty" did not drink or smoke and he declined which meant that every Major, Captain, and Leftenant in his group also had to decline tho their tongues were hanging out. War is hell! After the war and back in England Ted's task was to set up a program to move several thousand British War Brides to America. This involved housing accommodations for the women and their offspring and we had several sailings from the Southampton port circa 1946.
tjs
Next - Sales Calls II

The Seasons

It appears that March came in "like" a lamb in Northeast Florida but not in all locations. After twenty years in Florida I still miss the change of seasons. When I worked in New York I lived in a high rise co-op apt. overlooking the Hudson River and The Palisades on the Yonkers/Hastings line in Westchester Co. The view and the sunsets were spectacular - we even had a morning rainbow one day which was a rarity. This was Washington Irving country and the flaming foliage in October was breathtaking. You could always tell when ARMY was playing a home football game at West Point as the yachts paraded up the Hudson in October and November. Then came the severe winters of 1977/1978 with considerable ice in the river impeding the tugboats pulling the barges upriver and the wind whistling down the Hudson Valley causing us to light our kitchen oven. But then came Spring. One April day I stood on the balcony and viewed a silver stripe running up the middle of the river. It was the annual shad run with the fish jumping and flailing on their way upriver to spawn above the Tappan Zee Bridge where the river widens. G.E. spent a lot of money cleaning up the PCBs and Pete Seeger used to bring his sloop CLEARWATER upriver to check on things and sell some pumpkins in the Fall. The river must have been clean enough for the shad. A lovely area to visit or reside.
tjs
Next - War is Hell

Changing of the Guard II

We are still in the upper room at Old Bookbinders - the decibels are rising - and I have to introduce the new man to the Philadelphia steamship community. His name is Cletus K. - he is coming in to Philadelphia from Pittsburgh where he was our Sales Mgr. - I heard that he is a raconteur of note but I have very little bio on him - so as I hand him the microphone he addresses this room full of strangers as follows:
"I have heard a lot about Old Bookbinders - I understand that in the bar their martinis are so dry that in the mens room, instead of urinals they have dust pans." The room erupted and Cletus had passed the test and made his bones in Philadelphia.
(I like these two stories because they are portable and transferable to any campus or watering hole of your choice.)
tjs
Next - The Seasons