‘Me and Del were singing’

‘Me and Del were singing.’ I texted those words to my friend Mike when I heard Tom Petty died. I knew he’d know what I meant. It’s a line from the beginning of Petty’s song “Running Down A Dream.” The opening goes like this: It was a beautiful day, the sun beat down I had the radio on, I was drivin’ Trees flew by, me and Del were singing’ little Runaway I was flying’ Petty was giving a shout out to Del Shannon and his 1961 hit “Runaway.” The significance of ‘me and Del’ to ‘me and Mike’ goes back… Continue Reading

A case for the waltz

The design component of my Advertising Theory & Design class at Luzerne County Community College consists of students creating ads in a computer lab. To add to the creative environment I log onto You Tube on the computer at the teacher’s station and tell the students anyone is welcome to walk up and play a song. “If you don’t,” I tell them, “I will. And I can guarantee it will be classic rock.” Sometimes their music and mine come together. Such was the case when a student told me about the album “Rave On.” It’s a compilation of classic Buddy… Continue Reading

Longing for Yankees-Dodgers series

Longing for Yankees-Dodgers series The baseball fan in me should be rooting for the Houston Astros to win the World Series. They’ve never won it before and have not only an exciting but also likable team, built around their 5’6 superstar Jose Altuve. What’s not to like? But I don’t even want them to make it to the Fall Classic. I’m pulling for a Yankees-Dodgers series. Not that I like either one of them. I’ve never been a Yankees fan, which is something I wouldn’t write if my dear Uncle Eddie were alive. He loved his Yanks. But the Yankees… Continue Reading

Here and gone

I think of Eddie Holleran and I think of his right bicep. His big, bulging right bicep. I have not seen his bicep in close to 60 years but I clearly remember that day sitting on the curb on Butler Street right across from Massara’s Market. Old Mrs. Massara had kicked us off the porch again. That’s what I figure as I look back. Not Margaret Massara. Her mother-in-law. We called her Old Mrs. Massara. Not disrespectfully but as a way of distinguishing her from Margaret. Margaret would let us sit on the front porch of the neighborhood store all… Continue Reading

A little pause makes a big difference

My wife was saying something about the program on the Hallmark network and I was only half paying attention as I opened a new book. But when I heard her say, “I like her butt …” I perked up. “Pardon me, Mary Kay? Did you just say what I think you said?” “Yeah. I said I like her, but I like the other girl better. Why?” The little pause the first time she said it threw me for a loop. She may have said a but with one “t” but I heard one with two. It reminded me of a… Continue Reading

Every day is coffee day

No one seems to know why Sept. 29 is listed as National Coffee Day. Which to me underscores my first thought when I heard about it: why? Why a National Coffee Day? The only answer, I suppose, is why not? And, actually, that’s okay with me. But in my world, every day could be called coffee day. I hadn’t before thought about it, but aside from water, coffee is the only thing I consume every day of my life. For me, there is no such thing as a non-coffee day. The first thing I do every morning is put on… Continue Reading

Yes, we’re still here, but …

I know you’re just as disappointed as I am that the world did not end last Saturday as predicted. I mean, how many times can we get our hopes built up like that only to be let down? At least I learned my lesson the first time the end was supposed to happen and didn’t. That’s the time I blew out my credit card leading up to it. Bought a round for the entire bar the night before. What good is the world ending if you still have 15 grand of available credit on your Visa? Well, I didn’t do… Continue Reading

Okay then. Brown.

Want to stand out at the office, at home, or on the road? CHOOSE BROWN. That was the subhead (or deck, as we say in the business) under the headline: THAT ’70S COLOR. It sat atop a fashion article in this month’s Esquire magazine. Now I am a big Esquire fan. Have been reading it most of my adult life and make sure my son has a subscription. But they were dead wrong on this one. I lived through the ’70s. Spent my 20s there. And we didn’t wear no brown. Unless, like a few of my friends, we worked… Continue Reading

(B)rush hour

At first I thought the gal in the silver Honda must be texting. In the rearview mirror I could see her meandering all over the road. Better keep and eye on her, I thought. A second glance revealed she was not texting at all, however. She was brushing her hair. Man, was she brushing her hair. She’d drag that brush all the way up to the car’s ceiling before it came free, letting her locks fall back down to her shoulders. I ain’t sticking around, I thought, and hit the gas. She stayed right with me, speeding up and brushing… Continue Reading