A Face for Radio

I like to joke that I have a face for radio.

Really, it's not that bad a face. It doesn't scare the horses or small children

Usually.

But there is something about that radio part. I've been told a number of times that I have a good radio voice.

And I've even made use of it.

My first foray into radio was when I was in high school. The local radio station was putting together a panel discussion about the life of teens. They were looking for know-it-all teens who could speak in reasonably complete and coherent sentences. 

I fit the bill.

It was a one-time thing, and it went well. And I didn't get called into the guidance office afterwards for some counseling, so no harm done.

My next adventure came in college. I was visiting a friend at another college, and he was involved with the campus radio station. He was going to be taking part in an unscripted radio play and asked me to join him. I did. It was, well, what you expect from a group of college students. Some good moments. A lot of nonsense. 

I hope there are no recordings of the show still around.

The following year I decided to get involved with my own college's radio station, which was located in the basement of one of the dorms. I got an evening slot and started making it my own. We didn't have formal playlists, so I chose only music I liked or could stand. For example, although it was popular at the time, no disco. And at the time I hated The Rolling Stones, so if I played them at all - after the station manager said we had to play requests - I would play the songs at 45 rpm. (Older folks will understand what that means.)

By the way, I still don't like The Rolling Stones.

My college had recently gone coed, but had strict rules about visitation, and each floor had resident advisors who were required to enforce the rules. Men were only allowed in the lounges of the women's dorm until midnight, so that's where couple hung out. From 11-Midnight, I created the Lounge Lovers Special. I'd play all sorts of romantic music and love songs. But I'd mix in public service announcements about STDs. 

My sense of humor.

That sense of humor actually had an effect on student government elections.

I had started doing a fake newscast for each show - it was when Saturday Night Live had just become popular. I'd include topical items but add silly or satirical spins to the reports.

At one point, my college was holding elections for student government offices, including president of the student council. The current president was running for re-election against two other guys and a woman. As I mentioned, my college had only recently gone co-ed, so her running was a first. But this was a less enlightened time, and people started spreading rumors that she was a lesbian. She was a friend of mine, I knew that wasn't true, and I thought the claims were dirty politics. So, I included a report that the president of the student council had cancelled the elections because they had descended to the level of mudslinging, and besides, he "didn't want to run against two queers and a lesbian."

It just so happened that one of the candidates was near the station and heard the report. He ran into the broadcast booth and began yelling at me, using some colorful language. Then a friend of mine who happened to be in the booth at the time pointed out that the microphone was still on. I looked at the candidate, smiled, and said, "I know."

The candidate dropped out the next day.

By the way, woman friend did not win, but she did graduate with honors, married, had several children, and became a highly respect local lawyer.

The next year I switched to a morning shift. The station broadcast was piped into the school dining hall, and I got tired to trying to down my oatmeal while disco or The Rolling Stones were playing. For my shift I played lighter music, folk music, even some classical. Indeed, I would often put on one longer classical piece, and while it was playing run from the station to the dining hall, get some coffee and food, then race back to the station. And at 9 a.m. when the dining hall was about to end serving breakfast I would play "Barracuda" by Heart to end the gentler music and kick off a rock set.

After graduation, I was not involved with radio for seven years. In between, I'd graduated from grad school and started teaching at a Catholic high school where the pay was so poor I need to supplement my income. At first, I coached, but that made for a long day. Then a friend said I had a good voice for radio, and that the local public radio station was always looking for board operators and announcers. I went to the station, and though I had no tapes, they liked what they heard in the interview. I was hired to work on weekends. I was to remain with the station for 22 years.

But that's another story.

Pax et bonum

My Not-So Brilliant Sports Career

In high school, I received two letters for sports. That qualified me for the “Varsity Club,” and to buy one of those Varsity Jackets with a letter on it.

Sound impressive?

It’s not.

First of all, other folks received multiple letters in their sports careers. In my family alone my father, who was an incredible athlete and started on varsity teams when he was in middle school, earned 17 letters total. Yes, 17. He was even offered a football scholarship to Cornell, but had to turn it down when grandpa, a drinker, deserted the family and dad, as the oldest, went to work to support his mother and siblings. And my kid brother, who was taller and more muscular than I was, won awards in every sport he played, set school records in track, and was the best basketball player in our school, though he refused to play for our high school team because he didn’t like the coach.

There’s more to the story in my case.

As a child I was, um, husky. That was the polite way for stores to label clothes for fat kids.

Add to that that I was a slow runner, had no vertical jump per se, and had breathing issues.

I preferred reading to playing sports.

Then I got to middle school. All the boys my age seemed to be playing sports. And there was the embarrassment of gym class.

So I started playing. Sort of.

I signed up for what was called back then “junior football.” As a husky (i.e. fat) fellow I was made a lineman. I spent most of my time on the bench but did get in at the end of games because the coach was required to play everyone.

In one game, I was on defense and got knocked down, as usual. But the running back decided to go through the hole created when I got knocked to the ground. I instinctively reached up, my arm got tangled with his legs, and he fell. I was credited with a tackle. In another game, again on defense, the running back tried to change direction, slipped on the turf and fell to the ground. I was standing next to where he fell, and reached down, touched him, and was credited with another tackle.

My season total: Two tackles.

Over the next year I lost a lot of weight, and grew several inches, so I no longer had lineman bulk. I was a bean pole. No more football.

Then I started playing baseball. My coaches and I quickly discovered I had a good eye for hitting, but no power. A contact singles hitter who was occasionally able to hit a double. My batting average was over .400!

But I was still slow of foot, and had a tendency to trip when I tried running. If I’d been able to run faster to first without tripping I would have had more hits. And once I got on first, the coaches often put in a pinch runner in my place.

As for fielding, well, if I got to the ball, and didn’t trip, I was likely to drop it or fumble it. I also had a tendency to close my eyes if the ball was flying toward me. Even if I did manage to hold on to the ball, I had a weak throwing arm. Opponents could run - heck, jog - on me. This was in the days before designated hitters, so for the sake of the team I spent most of the time on the bench, getting in as a pinch hitter or again at the end of games because the coach had to play everyone.

I later wrote a haiku about my fielding adventures:

drifting clouds
he notices too late
ground ball passing him

Then there was basketball.

My brother was a talented player. He was so good that even as a high school freshman and sophomore he’d go over to the college near our home and play with the college students in pick-up games. We started scrimmaging against each other, and I knew I was outclassed, but I enjoyed playing, and even developed into a decent shooter (when I was open).

Our school had an intramural basketball league. I recruited a team of people who had been rejected by other teams, and a couple of good players. I was the player/manager. One of my rules was that everyone, no matter how bad, got to play. And we had some really bad players. One game, our center grabbed a rebound and went back up and put it in the basket, scoring for the other team. We had one fellow who missed almost every shot even if he was standing below the basket unguarded.

Yet we managed to win games.

In one game where we were way ahead, I told one of our best players to come out so I could put in one of our worst payers. He refused. I again told him to come out. He refused once more. I was about to demand again, when he suddenly quit the team. In the middle of the game.

We would have been in trouble, except my brother joined the team. We proceeded to win every remaining regular season game, and our first two playoff games, making it to the championship game. But then the team we faced had recruited some really good players, including the fellow who had quit our team, and we lost.

At that point, I decided to try out for the varsity team. My shooting was fine, but my lack of speed or jumping ability left me as the last man cut. The coach asked me to become the manager.

At practices when I wasn’t doing manager duties - rolling out the ball rack, collecting the balls at the end of practices, making sure there was water available, providing the players with clean towels, running to the math office to get the whistle the coach forgot - I took part in all the player drills. For games, though, I did not suit up. I just did all those manager duties I mentioned, and keeping shooting and rebounding statistics. But as the season wore on, players got injured or suspended, and in order to have enough players for scrimmages during practices the coach allowed me to play, but just in the practices. I was not very good, but I was a warm body. Then, finally, after some of the players pestered him, he permitted me to suit up for one game, but it was just an exhibition one. I got in late in the game, my teammates fed me the ball one time when I was open and I hit the shot.

At the end of the year sports banquet, I was awarded a letter for basketball not because of my stellar play, but because I was a senior.

At that banquet I was awarded a second letter, one I actually earned, for bowling.

I’m the fellow in the upper right.

I had discovered bowling in middle school. A couple of friends had a team, and they needed one more bowler. I joined and did well. We even won the junior league championship, as we would do for several years in a row. I got better, getting my average up to around 170, and my senior year qualified for the school’s bowling team. Every week we would have a practice session, and the top five bowlers would then bowl in the league game the next day. I was not the best bowler on the team, but I was usually 4th or 5th in qualifying, so I bowled regularly in the league meets. We didn’t win the league, but we did win the city championship.

The only other sport I tried was track. I was not fast, I couldn’t throw or jump, but I was a steady distance runner. I had managed to build leg strength and endurance because I rode a bicycle everywhere. It was not unusual for me to ride 10-20 miles at a time, even peddling to other towns. Early in practices I ran a mile in a time that would have been the school record. But then I developed a problem that would eventually need surgery, so I had to quit and never got to officially compete.

My brother, by the way, set the school records in the broad jump, the high jump, the triple jump, and even got drafted in one meet to run the hurdles, winning, of course.

At the end of the year our school had a sports banquet. My brother and I only had one suit that we had to share - my family had financial issues - so my brother said as a senior I should go, even though he was up for MVP for track. We reasoned that he could attend the next year to pick up letters or awards.

I got my two letters, and as I noted, qualified for the Varsity Club and for a Varsity Jacket. But since I was going off to college, I didn’t want to wear such a jacket on campus and look like an idiot. Besides, I didn’t have the money for the jacket anyway.

As for my brother, he never got to go to the banquet the following year. He had some issues and did not play on any teams.

In college I played (poorly) some intramural basketball, but nothing serious. I had to give up bowling because I couldn’t afford to bowl as much as would have been necessary to really improve. My last “competitive” track event was an unofficial two-mile race when I was 21. I finished a distant 3rd.

As a teacher, I later played in some exhibition games and gym class with students, and coached track and bowling. Even in my 60’s I sometimes played some basketball shooting games like “around the world,” and would impress students by hitting shots.

After all, no one was guarding me.

Now, I just enjoy watching sports, and remembering my own poor attempts to play, with occasional highlights and with some humbling moments.

I think G. K. Chesterton prophetically described my athletic career when he observed, “If a thing is worth doing, it is worth doing badly.”

 
Pax et bonum

Jimmy Stewart

I just saw that they have made and plan to release November 6 a movie about Jimmy Stewart called Jimmy. From the promos, it seems to be dealing with his service in World War II, culminating in his return to acting with It's a Wonderful Life.

Stewart is my favorite actor, and It's a Wonderful Life one of my favorite movies. We own a copy of it and watch it every year around Christmas.

Just as It's a Wonderful Life is a regular view, so are several of his other movies: Harvey, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valence, Little Shop Around the Corner, Anatomy of a Murder, and Rear Window. Whenever they come on, I watch. And while they are not favorites, I have watched multiple times: The Philadelphia Story, (not a fan of Hepburn, but since Stewart is in it I will watch it), Destry Rides Again, The Flight of the Phoenix, and You Can't Take It With You. I also like The Shootist (with the added bonus of it being John Wayne's final film and Wayne is another actor I like), Winchester '73, The Spirit of St. Louis, and Shenandoah.  

And whenever a movie comes on with Stewart in it I will give it a watch. Though I do admit I have a hard time with the ending of his character in After the Thin Man. Oh, and with the singing in Born to Dance. 

I know Vertigo makes a lot of lists of best movies by Stewart, but I never got into it.  

Stewart was a war hero, and I honor him for that. Thus, it makes sense to make a movie focusing on that part of his life. 

Will I see the new Stewart bio film? Maybe not at the theaters; I don't go to the movies much. But eventually, probably. 

 Pax et bonum

Talking Points Memo

Pax et bonum

Word Choices

A religious organization to which I belong publishes a quarterly magazine dealing with a variety of religious issues. One of the articles is always about JPIC - Justice, Peace, and Integrity of Creation. 

The latest issue's JPIC article contains a paragraph that begins, "When our neighbors hear themselves demeaned as 'illegals,' and are unjustly detained and separated from family, ...." 

I have some concerns about the wording.

I completely agree that we should not demean people as "illegals." All people should be treated with respect, including in the language we use.

But in current discussions of the immigration issue other people are all too often subjected to demeaning language: Members of law enforcement and ICE. They are frequently labeled "Nazis," "storm troopers," "thugs," and so on. Even when this aspect is not directly mentioned, the implication is still there that they are acting like such people, and that they lack compassion and care when dealing with the people they are arresting. And these legal authorities have increasingly been physically attacked, and they and their families subjected to threats. 

The majority of the people who are being arrested by immigration authorities did break our immigration laws - they committed a criminal act. In a number of cases, they allegedly committed other criminal acts in their home countries or in the United States. Thus, while we might debate our immigration laws, technically these people did break the law and have been justly detained. 

The phrase "separated from families" is emotionally loaded. Yes, they are being separated from their families, as are all people who are arrested, but this is not done because the legal authorities are acting maliciously, as this wording suggests. The separation is due to choices the arrested individuals made; it is a consequence of their actions.

We need to accompany these arrested individuals and show them the love of God. But we also need to be careful with our language when we are discussing the immigration issue.

Pax et bonum

A Prayer

Dear Lord,
every morning I pray,
"Thank You, Lord, for this day.
I offer up my aches and pains
for the souls in Purgatory."
But lately
there seem to be
so many more
aches and pains.
I accept them.
I offer them up.
But I wouldn't complain, Lord,
if You removed a few.
Thy will be done
Amen.

Pax et bonum

More G. K. Chesterton Quotations

“Progress should mean that we are always changing the world to fit the vision, instead we are always changing the vision.”

“Men invent new ideals because they dare not attempt old ideals. They look forward with enthusiasm, because they are afraid to look back.”

“This is the age in which thin and theoretic minorities can cover and conquer unconscious and untheoretic majorities.”

“The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him.”

“The only defensible war is a war of defense.”

“There are some desires that are not desirable.”

“Modern broad-mindedness benefits the rich; and benefits nobody else.”

“Once abolish the God, and the government becomes the God.”

“When you break the big laws, you do not get freedom; you do not even get anarchy. You get the small laws.”

“Men are ruled, at this minute by the clock, by liars who refuse them news, and by fools who cannot govern.”

“For fear of the newspapers politicians are dull, and at last they are too dull even for the newspapers.”

“The riddles of God are more satisfying than the solutions of man.”

“There are those who hate Christianity and call their hatred an all-embracing love for all religions.”

“Men do not differ much about what things they will call evils; they differ enormously about what evils they will call excusable.”

“The whole truth is generally the ally of virtue; a half-truth is always the ally of some vice.”

“When a politician is in opposition he is an expert on the means to some end; and when he is in office he is an expert on the obstacles to it.”

“The whole modern world has divided itself into Conservatives and Progressives. The business of Progressives is to go on making mistakes. The business of the Conservatives is to prevent the mistakes from being corrected.”

“I think the oddest thing about the advanced people is that, while they are always talking about things as problems, they have hardly any notion of what a real problem is.”

Pax et bonum