Time to Reflect: Step 138

When I woke up this morning I realized there were a number of thoughts and ideas that were bubbling in my synapses, and so I rushed over to the keyboard and typed down a list of ideas. They include a thriving economy, full employment, dependable government, trustworthy politicians, clean energy, quality universal healthcare, excellent education, community-minded corporations, reliable reporting, thoughtful commentary, natural resources, personal freedom, sports heroes, safety, beauty, humor, justice and peace. Now, close your eyes and repeat them in reverse order. Just kidding.

When asked for a timeline to launch my business I immediately thought of the fourth of July. What better time to declare oneself a vital part of the American fabric than on the birthday of our nation. Like the brilliant author James Baldwin I believe, “I love America more than any other country in this world, and, exactly for this reason, I insist on the right to criticize her perpetually.” However criticism need not point to obvious blemishes but rather to spark dialogue aimed at the aforementioned ideas.

As noted last week I have had to apply a vast amount of lubricant to some rather rusty technical skills. Most of this lubricant has come in the form of reading repeatedly through instructions, guides and tutorials. Then, after making several attempts to apply what appears to be a simple procedure regain my composure and patiently try again.

One of the things I will need to determine in the next few hours is how many categories will be discussed in the new blog and over what period of time will this discussion take place. In other words, how thin can I spread myself and still meet the standards followers and participants expect.

Another factor essential for the long-term survival of this blog, and the evolution it is currently undergoing, is marketing. Three weeks ago I surveyed friends and family to determine what blog categories they were most interested in and what social media they used to share these interests with others. News and politics received the greatest support with business, humor and entertainment following close behind.

Facebook was the social media most often used by a better than two to one margin over second place YouTube. In searching further I found respondents to the survey did not necessarily post videos on YouTube, and may only go there as viewers. As a result, Twitter and LinkedIn, which were next in the survey results, may prove better marketing tools. So, look for me there in the days and weeks to come.

Finally, while my life story will continue for at least one more week here at Every Step of the Way it is time to draw to a close my weekend reflections and commentary. It is my sincere hope all of you will follow me, and join me for discussions, as I launch my new blog, the name of which along with a link I will share tomorrow in From Where I Stand.

From Where I Stand: Step 132

As reported last week a jury found a counselor at a Youth Correctional Facility here in the great state of California had violated the civil rights of four of the wards at the facility. Attorney General Jerry Brown’s office represented all three defendants: the counselor, the superintendent of the facility, and the state director of juvenile justice. They were ordered to pay awards totaling more than a million dollars, and attorney fees plus punitive damages that the judge is working to assess. To date there has been no response from Jerry Brown, Meg Whitman, anyone associated with the campaigns for governor, or any of the major media outlets in the state.

Perhaps Meg Whitman found herself too busy defending her own actions. In an article in Friday’s Los Angeles Times, Whitman, who was the CEO of EBay in 2007 when the incident took place, stated, “Young Mi Kim and I had a verbal disagreement and it escalated and I actually, as the New York Times accurately reported, you know escorted her out of the room and then I went back to what I needed to do in that meeting.”

It is unlikely we will ever know the exact content of the disagreement, or the level of force exerted to escort Ms. Kim, but whatever it was Kim reportedly received a $200,000 settlement. This figure is slightly less according to my source than the quarter of a million dollars the attorney general spent for expert witnesses whose purpose was to solidify the defense of the aforementioned correctional officials.

When asked if Attorney General Jerry Brown knew about this expenditure my source responded by asking, “What do you think? Who else is going to approve spending that kind of money?”

During the past week I also learned that while the attorneys for the plaintiffs have spent six years putting this case together none of them have been compensated, and may have to wait for the outcome of any appeal the state may file on behalf of the defendants. Meanwhile, I also learned, outside counsel retained to assist the state was paid for by the prison guard union.

Again, this is the same union that is contributing large sums of money to elect Jerry Brown governor of California. Of course if Meg Whitman continues to have questions raised about her temper, management style or abuse of employees, there may not be anyone qualified other than the Ella Baker Center for Human Rights to ask why when a unanimous jury finds “clear and convincing” evidence that the defendants violated the civil rights of these four former wards is the state still considering their appeal.

A logical person might further question whether this civil case warrants some form of criminal prosecution. As I recall, Jerry Brown was the tough on crime mayor of Oakland, and has spent time as attorney general portraying himself as a protector of innocent victims. Naturally the burden of proof is different in a criminal case, but at least it might say the state of California cares about its citizens, even incarcerated ones, more than someone who uses his position as a state employee to abuse those citizens.

What do you think? Tell us in the comment section. Or, write Jerry Brown and Meg Whitman and tell them what you think about this case.

From Where I Stand: Step 125

When we sat down for bagels and juice the discussion quickly moved beyond the lack of diplomacy by BP CEO Tony Hayward and the ridiculous apology he received from Texas Congressman Joe Barton to the intriguing results of a trial where all twelve jurors found an official at a Youth Correctional Facility in Chino, California had violated the civil rights of four wards by forcing them to have sex. Mitch, who was barred from discussing the matter for the five months of trial where he represented one of the plaintiffs, said the attorney general’s office had refused any effort to resolve the matter during the six years he had been working on the case. Now, he says they are considering an appeal.

When Dan asked why he had not heard about the case in the news Mitch explained that only the San Bernardino Sun had written an article about the outcome. He said other media might be waiting to see if an appeal is filed. In the meanwhile the judge is determining punitive damages and attorney fees, which the defendant has been ordered to pay. Were the attorney general to decide to appeal the state would have to put aside a promissory note one and a half times the total of the awards and fees, according to Mitch.

Manuel wanted to know if that meant his money, as a taxpayer would be set aside for this case. Mitch assured him that is what would be done.

So, what pray tell, we all wanted to know, was the basis for the defense? Mitch said they had a number of expert witnesses, none of whom had ever visited this facility, state this kind of behavior could not have happened. One expert on prison culture claimed to be writing a book with research to support the defense’s argument. Apparently none of the twelve jurors were buying the expert testimony nor do I foresee any of them running out to purchase the book.

It occurred to me the individual found to have perpetrated this act might be represented by the correction officers’ union. While Mitch could not substantiate whether or not this person was a member of the union he did say the prison guard union was well known to be one of the most powerful organizations in the state. Of course this stems from a multiplying of the prison population in recent years, but that’s a conversation for another day.

When I got home I found in the Sun article both the superintendent of the facility and the head of the California Youth Authority at the time of the incident were found responsible for imprisoning the four youths in conditions “that exposed them to a substantial risk of serious harm and/or sexual abuse.” One of the attorneys stated, “They have to take affirmative action to protect the wards. Prison staff were warned repeatedly that Shelby was a sexual predator, and absolutely nothing was done about it.”

So one might wonder, is there a point of law that merits appeal in this case? Or, is there reason to speculate that since attorney general Jerry Brown is running for governor support by the correctional officer’s union might influence such a decision. While no direct link to my knowledge has been established it is essential his office repudiate the slightest whiff of impropriety or be subject to the wrath of the voters, or at least Meg Whitman.

One group, the Ella Baker Center for Human Rights seeks support for a petition asking Attorney General Brown to let the judgment in this case stand.

What do you think? Please let us know in the comment section.

From Where I Stand: Step 118

When I sat down yesterday at the luncheon following the rabbi’s daughter’s Bat Mitzvah and started to talk with my friend Dr. Mark a dean at California State University-Fullerton about what he did on his furlough day, I had no idea the question, “Is a college degree still worth it?” was the headline story in Saturday’s Los Angeles Times. Our conversation centered around the growth in prison budgets being many times the level of higher education during the past decade, while the article pointed to the “vast majority of job gains this year have gone to workers with only a high school education or less,” and the prospects for the future look like that trend will continue.

Needless to say this is disheartening for me to hear since following my parents’ advice led to two advanced degrees, nearly a dozen certifications in three states, and two years of rejection in the pursuit of returning to full time employment. In the words of Rodney Dangerfield, “I just can’t seem to get any respect.” Actually I’ll forgo the respect factor in favor of putting those of us who bought into the American dream of improving oneself through education back to work.

To make matters worse most of us who bought into this ploy, no doubt perpetrated by an educational aristocracy with connections to some Chinese, Indian, or Waltonian demonic plot, foolishly led our children astray with this illusion. It certainly appears conspiratorial when your oldest child is an adjunct faculty at a Midwestern university working on her doctorate, your second child graduated from law school and is studying for the California bar, and your youngest child is completing her bachelor degree in a state more interested in protecting menial jobs for high school dropouts than developing the talents of the brightest at their noteworthy institutions. Why did the Times wait a decade for them to pile up their own individual debt accounts before raising the question about whether or not it’s a worthwhile venture?

Almost as astounding to me is the notion by various economists, bureaucrats, and members of the media that we are supposed to somehow buy our way out of this Great Recession. All of them seemed to be equally amazed when consumers put away their credit cards and sales fell in May. While most consumers are deep in debt like myself, those with resources may be following Franklin’s advice and saving for those rainier days ahead.

Speaking of rainier days, Robert Reich, the diminutive secretary of labor in the Clinton administration now teaching economics at Berkeley, reported there is now a 50:50 chance there will be a double dip recession. For those of us who have yet to climb out of the first dip this comes as both further bad news and no surprise. When banks which double dipped by making unsecured loans and writing them down with the assistance of both the Republican and Democratic administrations stop gambling in derivatives, provide a rate of interest on savings in line with rates charged for loans, and invest venture capital in local small businesses the economy will recover.

Meanwhile we may seek refuge from the storm by losing our worries for a few hours watching the classic match up of NBA Finals rivals the Lakers and Celtics. For sports fans not into professional basketball there is the thriller from South Africa. By the way I know both Kobe and the G-man chose to skip college and March Madness in favor of ever increasing economic opportunity, but I have no idea how many soccer players on the men’s and women’s teams decided college had nothing to offer them.

How about it: has your college degree paid dividends? Are you still planning to send your kids to college? Let us know in the comment section.

From Where I Stand: Step 111

A consensus is the census is only a temporary solution to an extensive lack of growth in labor during a protracted period of egregious economic woes. While the growth in jobs jumped to 431,000 in May, the most in a decade, the overwhelming majority went to census workers, a body of temporary government employees, which distorted the number. As a result Wall Street wasn’t buying and took a dive of 300 points on Friday.

Which brings me to the dilemma I face when trying to assess what is really happening in this wonderful land of ours. On the one hand I want to see the economy grow and people go back to work. Efforts by the government to stimulate growth, such as the Workforce Investment Act that provides programs those of us in transition use to return to productivity are vital. Yet, like my conservative friends I know sustained growth requires expansion in private industry.

On the other hand to see the same corrupt corporate practices that built the bubble that burst to bring about this tremendous economic catastrophe benefit from a populace too willing to put their hard earned dollars back into it makes me want to puke. One has to ask is there any other way to measure economic success besides the figures reported on the stock market? It is hard to believe I am alone when I feel a smile welling up inside knowing some oil, pharmaceutical or banking executive took a hit when the market tumbled. Yet, like my liberal friends remind me their pensions are dependent upon the sustained growth of that same market.

One thing we can be sure of is the people on Madison Avenue, where I crossed the street a week ago, are dreaming of ways to sustain their positions along with their friends on Wall Street. As I walked along 47^th Street barely able to carry on a conversation over the din of the jackhammers it occurred to me how those spin doctors up in their ivory towers make us forget how government employees like the guy wearing the orange and yellow vest breaking up the street are every bit as important to us as the banker or broker weaving ways to turn simple cash into complex derivatives. At the same time I had to wonder if the guys with the calluses might be able to get us some basic simple interest while the soft skinned guys attempted to hold onto the jackhammer for just an hour.

Of course most of my readers realize my what ifs are purely fantasy, just like the what if BP knew what it was doing and had tested methods to remediate a deep water well explosion. In lieu of such a what if one might contemplate what if instead of spending millions of dollars for the Madison Avenue boys and girls to assure us BP is doing everything it can to contain the spill they actually spent that money on such an effort. Or, what if everyone in the country buys a Nissan Leaf, Ford Transit Connect, Chevy Volt or California’s own Tesla.

As emotions regarding the bloody Israeli-Palestinian clash aboard a flotilla that confronted a blockade continue to escalate, and who shot who with what and why is shown on poorly lit incoherent video all over the internet, it is wise to take a deep breath and wait for Netanyahu to “get all the facts” Obama asked for on Monday. Hopefully, calm minds will prevail and an assessment of actions and reactions can be made accurately without all the preconceived rhetoric in the near future.

Finally, while I was excited to see the Lakers jump off to a first game victory over the Celtics in the NBA Finals, it was tempered by the news of basketball legend John Wooden's death Friday. Coach Wooden led UCLA to seven straight and a total of 10 national championships. Arguably the greatest coach of all time, he was 99 years old.

From Where I Stand: Step 104

NO IMAGES WHILE
I'M BLOGGING
IN NEW YORK CITY

First, I want to acknowledge I am writing this blog on my iMac, and after years of frustration working on different brands of personal computers it was good to return last year to the user friendly company that passed Microsoft this week as the top technology company by stock market value. It seems like only a few years since my friends warmed me I should stop playing on my Apple and get a real computer. Many said that Apple with its proprietary system and expensive price points would collapse and die. While Steve Jobs and the national economy may face ill health the company he founded definitely does not.

Questions unfolded this week regarding the timeliness of the government response to the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. While there has been a lot of finger pointing about how responsible BP is and what responsibility needs to be leveled upon Haliburton and other interests in the drilling operation, the latest is to find fault with those who regulated the process. Some have even gone so far as to draw parallels between how Washington bureaucrats handled this disaster and the way the Bush bureaucrats handled Katrina. Although there seems to be better personnel involved in the Obama team, I'll await further investigation to assess the qualityh of their response.

As I am writing this without the help of my volleyball friends, since I am attending my daughter's graduation from law school while they're batting the ball around on the other end of the continent, I lack confidence in assessing how well the mud is doing in capping the well. I am pretty certain however there will be lots of late night jokes about muddying the water.

It is surprising to me how long it has taken the federal government to respond to the Arizona law governing procedures for questioning individuals about their citizenship. Apparently, when a law claims to help reduce or eliminate illegal immigration there needs to be evidence it violates civil rights or hampers law enforcement before the federal government will take action. Fortunately, the director of the Police Executive Research Forum, Chuck Wexler was able to get a number of police chiefs to explain to Attorney General Eric Holder how the law would inhibit law enforcement.

Finally, after months of anticipation Simon Cowell stepped down as a judge on the show he originated, American Idol. He'll continue to produce the show and the recording artists it generates. Oh yes, Lee DeWyze edged out Crystal Bowersox as the winner of the ninth season. I predict they will both have glorious careers.

And last but not least as noted earlier and in yesterday's blog the most important news is Heather is graduating law school. Here to I predict a glorious career.

From Where I Stand: Step 90

Many of the important events of the past week are continuing stories from weeks gone by. Two of these stories I referred to during the past week were the unemployment rate, which came up in my reflection yesterday, and the British election, which was noted briefly in my commentary outlining where I stand regarding their lack of leadership in the economic calamity in Greece and the European Union.

So, let’s start with the most fascinating of circumstances the greater than expected addition of 290,000 new jobs in April while the unemployment rate continued to rise to 9.9% nationally. Actually, this perceived contradiction has been explained before when it initially became apparent that those who had stopped looking for work and were therefore not counted as unemployed returned when the chances of finding employment looked better. People, such as myself, will continue to frustrate statistical analysis as we redefine our means of contribution and earnings during our transition in this economy.

Taking a close look at the British election one has to wonder if we can take away some lessons from the democracy from which we sprang. Our country took nearly a hundred years to arrive at the two party system. Attempts by a third party to impact government, other than spoiling the election for one of the two parties, have not worked to this point. In England, however, the third party, became power brokers when neither of the leading parties had enough seats in parliament. Nick Clegg of the Liberal Democrats formed a coalition government, the first in 65 years, with David Cameron of the Conservative Party, forcing Labour out of power for the first time in 13 years. I’m not advocating a third party but the idea of a coalition among lawmakers is appealing.

Looking at the mess in the Gulf of Mexico there does not seem to be a particular partisan point of view and one could hope, against odds of course, a consensus about how to avoid such problems in the future can be reached. Taking policy statements from both sides of the aisle, NRDC president Frances Beinecke proposes some ways each of us can help find solutions in her book, Clean Energy Common Sense: An American Call to Action on Global Climate Change.

In another attempt to show his level of pragmatism over idealism President Obama nominated Elena Kagan to replace the more liberal John Paul Stevens on the Supreme Court. Her ability to raise both the margin of feminism and Judaism to a third of the highest court is unlikely to increase the number of conservatives voting for her confirmation, but her consensus building style may move senators to put the party line aside to act in the best interest of the country.

Of course after the regular season the consensus among basketball sports writers was Cleveland would continue their domination to the NBA Championship. With Boston eliminating LeBron and company in just six games, the question arises whether they are good enough to topple the reigning eastern conference champion Orlando Magic, which is undefeated in the playoffs so far. In the west the Lakers hold the upper hand in my opinion largely due to someone who remains on the sideline. No, I’m not referring to Jack Nicholson. With more NBA championships than any other coach or player in history and a firm grasp of how to influence all forces, players, refs, and reporters, the Zen Master will do everything in his power to return to the finals again.

Time to Reflect: Step 89

Among the many heroes in American history the one who fascinates me the most is Theodore Roosevelt. A sickly child he grew to become a tough soldier of diminutive stature, a fiery orator with a high-pitched voice, a monopoly-busting advocate of free enterprise, and a champion of conservation responsible for our national park system. Born into a family of power and privilege he built his reputation and earned the respect of the vast majority of Americans through grit and determination. “Do what you can, with what you have, where you are,” were words he not only spoke, but also lived.

Over the course of the past week I made four trips to Irvine to network with members of Experience Unlimited and to contribute to the operation of our office, to participate in my weekly Toastmasters meeting, to attend a workshop on finance and bookkeeping for entrepreneurs, and to meet with my business advisor from Project Success. Each time the purpose was to contribute what I can to the organization, given the skills I possess, and without having to leave Orange County to do it. Actually, my purpose was not as altruistic as the previous sentence implies.

As a person in transition during a time of economic uncertainty it has become clear many of us find ourselves wanting to do something meaningful with the skills we have in the communities where we live. So, we band together forging a network of diverse backgrounds, experiences and abilities creating a synergy. We rely on each other to ward off discouragement, build enthusiasm, and do whatever it takes to continue getting out of bed, getting dressed and getting out of the house.

While there were signs earlier this week that things were turning around in the employment market, something I will comment upon further in my blog tomorrow, I have noticed a growing entrepreneurial spirit among people with whom I network. Many of us not satisfied with waiting around for employers to act want to take whatever action we can to move forward and contribute to both our personal growth and the growth of the economy. As was pointed out in my business workshop the recession provides a level playing field from which to launch a new business.

So, yesterday in my meeting with my business advisor we examined my vision for the future of this website. We explored the likely demographics of my target audience and what their particular needs are; ways to identify competitors and what my competitive edge is; and methods for enhancing audience engagement through various forms of interaction. Different strategies to increase the number of people participating as well as ways to generate a revenue stream were discussed.

A schedule for completing the workshops, meeting with both technology and marketing experts and writing the rest of the business plan were laid out in detail. By the end of our meeting she had helped me reflect on where I have been and reach Roosevelt’s criteria of knowing what I can do with what I have where I am.

From Where I Stand: Step 83

Let me first wish every mother in the world a warm and wonderful Happy Mother’s Day. Without mothers there would be no children of the world to mess up everything their mothers worked so hard to achieve.

A perfect example of this is the current situation in Greece and Europe, the birthplace of western civilization. Looking back upon history we find the mothers of ancient Greece gave their children the concept of equality among rights and responsibilities, a set of principles known as democracy.

Further, these same mothers bestowed upon their children the thirst for knowledge, the desire to place thought into coherent patterns, and to propose theories regarding the meaning of life, a set of ideas known as philosophy.

Not wanting their children to rely upon only their mental assets these same mothers encouraged them to participate in activities to develop physical strength, endurance and flexibility, and to compete with each other in games near Mount Olympus.

In discussing these accomplishments of ancient Greek mothers while eating our Mother’s Day brunch at a non-Greek owned restaurant my brother reminded me they also gave us wrestling in the nude. Actually all the athletes of the first Olympic games were naked. Rather than some fear of a Janet Jackson type wardrobe malfunction the early sponsors of the games realized clothing limited the performance of the athlete.

Unfortunately, the children of Modern Greek mothers failed to apply this same understanding of performance to the twenty first century economic practice of borrowing enough money from a bank to build a business and reimbursing the bank in an expeditious manner.

To make matters worse Greece joined fifteen other countries with the same currency to form an organization known as the European Union. Their mothers warned them to make this idea of a common currency work they would need to set up some stringent rules regarding loans, pay back schedules, and strong investments. Following their mothers’ advice they wrote out a plan for limiting borrowing to a small percentage of the total economy.

Since each of the countries had their own finance minister there was no way to regulate the policy and overindulgent children of astute mothers of Greece found ways to borrow incessantly until the country found itself on the doorstep of financial collapse. In an effort to save their currency countries in the EU with fiscal resources were forced to step in and help this birthplace of democracy.

Still, a psychological and linguistic nightmare arose this week from the turmoil of this financial and economic crisis. While not a classically trained linguist as a student of the English language I still remember my teachers telling us ain’t ain’t a word. When pressed for a reason not to use such a common term they told us it was slang or figurative language. Amazingly, the British, parents of our language who are unable to choose a head of government, but that’s a story for another time, and their EU partners fear the spread of a Greek contagion. As a figure of speech a contagion is the spread of a harmful idea or practice, but as a psychological phenomenon it is not the spread of the practice but rather the result, financial collapse, that worries EU members.

Across the pond in the U.S. some worry we may have borrowed too much and could be infected by the contagion. Chances are we ain’t got nothin’ to worry about if we listen to our mothers and pay back our loans we can wash our hands of this contagion.

For All the Wrong Reasons I Still Couldn't Get It Right: Step 81

Before the concept of getting in touch with a feminine side, or for that matter the concept of a man having a feminine side was introduced to the world, a young man or teenager as the case may be was often considered genetically imbalanced if he showed interest in the arts. Certain musicians like guitarists, drummers and saxophonists might escape ridicule. But playing a violin, French horn or flute fueled the fire of homophobic teenagers and their unenlightened parents even if said musician’s sole interest was in watching the blonde with the lacy brassiere that showed through her thin white blouse pucker her lips over her mouthpiece hoping she would want to press them against his after rehearsal.

Choir boys, even those with deep bass voices, endured silent questioning about what went on under their robes, while actors were considered to bear no weight when walking in loafers whether or not they put pennies in them. One of the ironic twists was the perception of Rock Hudson as the kind of man many of these supposedly well-meaning parents would be proud to have their son be.

Amazingly, more than forty years before the show became an instant phenomenon on television the Glee factor was hard at work on yours truly. For those unfamiliar with this latest spin on Bye, Bye Birdie with a little Grease thrown in, the singing, or Glee, club of a fictional high school gains credibility and popularity when the quarterback and star receiver of the football team discover their love for all things musical and join the club.

So, even before making my misguided decision not to try out for the school play, I had determined to mount a counter attack to the notion my chromosomes may be out of whack. Needless to say, unaware of my own homophobic proclivity it never occurred to me to ignore such an absurd assessment, nor the impact my actions might have upon my male friends who were just becoming aware of their sexual desire for something other than the aforementioned stereotype. Nonetheless, as noted in the previous story about my attendance at numerous games during the Braves final season at Milwaukee County Stadium, the urge to play high school baseball had emerged.

Although there was the one great season of softball at Grantosa Elementary, I never participated in little league and only played one season as an outfielder in a Babe Ruth league. Knowing a number of players from last year’s freshman team were moving directly to the varsity team I thought I had a shot at making the sophomore team. When word spread that Coach Hytinen had selected a starting sophomore lineup but was looking for pitchers, I quickly ditched my bat and started throwing as hard as I could.

Noticing a number of boys who brought tennis balls to school to work on their grip I scavengered the garage and basement to find the tool I was convinced would make me a star hurler. I had learned the importance of a batting stance and using hips and legs to drive the bat through the ball when hitting, but a transfer of such kinesthetic principles to pitching never occurred, at least not prior to tryouts.

So, after throwing as hard as I could, developing a completely sore arm, and achieving a fairly high degree of accuracy, my velocity fell far short of those who knew how to get their hips and legs into the delivery of the horsehide wrapped sphere. Trying to save face I told friends it was the snow forcing us inside to throw on the flat gym floor that curtailed my speed even though I knew I had never practiced throwing from a mound. Well, I would just have more time to concentrate on my studies, at least until football season.

From Where I Stand: Step 76

With the responsibility of watching my seven-year-old niece comes the inability to play volleyball this morning. So, while she digests another episode of ICarly on Nick I will attempt to update my readers on the latest status of current events from where I stand. Of course, living in southern California one could sense the communal sigh of relief as the Lakers pulled it together Friday night to quash the upstart Thunder in Oklahoma and move on to the second round. Speaking of Oklahoma what is with a state that decides to protect doctors who fail to disclose fetal abnormalities to pregnant women. Apparently after Arizona pushed through their antagonistic law designed to incite hostility among law enforcement and those of foreign descent, other states such as Oklahoma feel compelled to act in an unfair and out of balance way knowing Fox-news will help get the story right, emphasis on the right. Meanwhile, protesters took to the streets in a May Day celebration of anger over the new immigration law in Arizona and calling for the federal government to take immediate action to bring about immigration reform. Elsewhere these protests are seen as an effort by the well-connected to draw attention away from the battle among senators, members of the Securities and Exchange Commission and New York state authorities over who will be the first to prosecute and convict Goldman Sachs and its executives of not only fraud, but stupidity in the way they brag about their deceptive practices in their emails. Feeling left out after the Southwest stirred up immigration, the boys in OK land thumbed their noses at women, and the Northeast derived a way to undo derivatives, the Southeast climbed on board by having an oil well bust up and blaming London-based BP Industries for the slick that threatens their coast in the Gulf of Mexico. Coming close on the heels of the disaster in West Virginia where twenty-nine miners lost their lives deep below the surface of the earth attempting to provide one of the substances we use to fuel our lives, the explosion, death of oil rig workers and ensuing rupture of another substance we use to fuel our lives, serves as a reminder how important energy reform ought to be. As the layer of black gold draws ever nearer the shoreline with even the greatest doubters of climate change aware of the devastation and ruin this catastrophe will have upon not only the environment but the economy, my mind is clear on why an oil man like George W. Bush supported drilling in the Arctic but completely baffled when a supposed liberal like Barack H. Obama supports offshore drilling. Change does take strength and commitment, and there must be well thought out systematic methods of transition developed, but true reform, especially moving away from oil, which has been the center piece of global conflict, and coal whose dust has filled our air with carcinogens and other harmful substances and sent too many West Virginians to an early grave, requires sacrifice. At a time like this it would be refreshing to hear the president step forward and explain how each of us must take every step we can to reign in our consumption of petroleum and coal based products. In other words, it is time to call for a national effort to walk, bicycle, carpool, utilize public transportation, limit driving, replace incandescent lights, and whatever else an individual can do to change energy consumption and preserve the planet for our children.

From Where I Stand: Step 69

Before we sat down to have our first bagel after volleyball this morning Dan said he believed Arizona with its new law designed to crack down on illegal immigration would become the target of late night comedians on television. Unfortunately, neither Sam, who was born in Mexico nor Manuel who was born in Spain played volleyball this week and were not available to comment on the controversial law implemented by our neighboring state. Mitch, the resident attorney, said the law would not change a thing because there was no provision to slow or deter immigrants without proper documentation from coming to the U.S. He said even if the law required local law enforcement to take action and turn violators over to federal authorities that as soon as they were deported they would just turn around and come back to find work. Then I raised the question of whether anyone believed Governor Jan Brewer who after signing SB 1070 into law said it was done for safety reasons and would be enforced without racial profiling. The tallest of the Mikes smiled and nodded leading me to believe he may have questioned the feasibility of such a plan. Dan said they could probably start by questioning anyone who appears to not belong, especially if they have a mustache. Everyone looked at Art who immediately said he had his driver’s license with him, but when asked if he had his green card said he was born in the U.S. and had no such paper. That may be all right here Art, but when traveling to Arizona wearing a mustache one would be wise to have whatever documents local authorities say are needed. Questions arose as to whether any effort by local law enforcement to apprehend illegal immigrants entering either the Angels or Dodgers baseball stadiums had ever been undertaken. Dan said he thought the teams were more interested in another form of green than whether or not any of their fans was carrying their green card with them to the game. Although continuing on his theme that the new law provided fodder for comedy, he said he could imagine a local police officer circling the Diamondbacks stadium in Phoenix during the seventh inning stretch questioning anyone with a mustache. Now, I have not had the opportunity to question my daughter who is attending the University of Arizona in Tucson to see what she and her friends think of the law, but my guess is she may have some thoughts about how it will affect customer relations at Target where she works part time. Two things struck me in the news about this over the past couple days since Brewer signed the bill that becomes law in 90 days. First, the governor’s predecessor, Janet Napolitano, Secretary of Homeland Security, stated she had vetoed similar legislation because law enforcement officials told her it “diverted critical law enforcement resources from the most serious threats to public safety and undermined the trust between local jurisdictions and the communities they serve.” Second, in a letter to the editor of the Los Angeles Times, Jose Figueroa, whose “mother’s family goes back to Texas before the invasion” wants to know “just what kind of papers are people like me supposed to carry?” He claims when he leaves his home in Los Angeles to visit his family in Texas he will be sure to get gas at the border and not stop at his favorite restaurants in Phoenix and Tucson, and “go through the state and not leave a cent.” Your indignation appears appropriate given the circumstances Mr. Figueroa, and may I also recommend that you shave before you leave if you happen to have a mustache.

Time to Reflect: Step 68

“My mother said to me, ‘If you become a soldier, you'll be a general; if you become a monk, you'll end up as the Pope.’ Instead, I became a painter and wound up as Picasso.” After reading Crush It! Why Now Is The Time To Cash In On Your Passion by Gary Vaynerchuk, it became imperative to me to search my heart and soul to determine my true passion. Turning my passion into a business made sense to me. Even those who don’t know the first thing about art know painting was Picasso’s passion. A few readers may know Vaynerchuk’s passion is personal branding. According to Nancy Anderson, a career consultant who wrote Work with Passion and spoke recently at an Experience Unlimited meeting I attended, passion is not only what you love, but also something a person thinks everyone else needs or should have. So, what is it inside of me smoldering like the lava deep at the core of the volcano wanting to erupt onto the scene to create a world where everyone is as impassioned as me? Like Picasso I have no desire to be a soldier or monk, I just want to be who I am. In my quest this morning to find a quotation to reflect my search I turned to the usual sources, essayists, philosophers and world leaders. It was in the revelation of the artist; the acknowledgement that through his art he simply became himself, that I found the journey each of us must take. Unlike Picasso’s mother, my mother offered practical advice when she said to have a profession to “fall back on” should your passion not provide the income needed to live. Considering how many teachers I came to know whose true passion lied in artistic pursuits outside the classroom leads me to assume other mothers may have offered similar advice. But, getting back to the idea of turning my passion into a business by creating a personal brand people can identify with and want for their own, it has become important to me to know what that personal brand is. Not everyone wants or for that matter even likes Picasso. Similarly, not everyone is going to turn to Gary Vaynerchuk for advice on starting a business, social media, or wine. However, little kids can recognize a Picasso and the 80,000 people who visit tv.winelibrary.com know who Gary V is, but what about me. For those readers who have been following this blog watching me struggle with my reflections the conclusion may have become apparent long before I stumbled upon it. My personal brand is looking for the silver lining, which means taking the reader on a trip filled with nostalgia and memories for some, and fun and excitement for others, but a journey that holds value and allows the reader to learn more about him or herself every step of the way.

I Would Like to Thank SMJH for This Sammy: Step 67

One of my least favorite sayings is a job well done is its own reward. While it may be true and something any well adjusted self-actualized person prints on his business card or mounts on her wall, to me it simply misses the point. Rewards are not for acknowledging oneself they are for acknowledging others. Certainly, when a person achieves a goal that has taken a lot of work and a long time to achieve, such as competently defending a dissertation to receive a doctorate degree, the personal satisfaction is paramount. This, however does not preclude the person from receiving his diploma, going through the hooding ceremony, or swelling with pride when his mother introduces him as my son the doctor…no, no, not medical, the other one. Even though the accomplishment was enough reward, it would be selfish to deprive the institution, the friends, and the family the opportunity to bestow their own reward. Now, I know semantically there is a difference between rewards and awards, but in reality they both are given for accomplishment. A side benefit as producers and directors dating back to before the time of Shakespeare have realized is soothing the fragile egos of their employees. Though they have quite a few when taking into account all the ticket sellers, theater operators and stage crew, the actors are usually the ones of greatest concern. Actually, I have always considered my ego to be quite durable but given the nature of adolescence with its raging hormones and incessant peer pressure the reader might understand how I felt when I learned my school, Samuel Morse Junior High, was going to present an acting award on recognition day. As far as I can recall there were no nominations given, no campaigning in the halls or in the school newspaper. In fact, whether the student body, members of the drama club, or teachers were involved in the selection process or Mrs. Haggerty, by virtue of her status as producer and director made the selection on her own is no longer clear. What I do know is that after Mr. Hatton gave out academic awards, and Mr. Krueger gave out music awards, and Mrs. Jordac gave out journalism awards, my heart was pounding as Mrs. Haggerty took the stage. After she got done thanking everyone for being such a wonderful audience and thanking everyone who took part in the productions, the blood was pounding so loudly in my ears I could hardly hear her say my name. Somehow I managed not to trip up the stairs to the stage as I heard Jeff, and some of his friends cheering, “Go Woody!” Winning the first Sammy did not propel me onto a path to become an actor, nor did it provide me with any more satisfaction than either of the performances I had done to that point, and as far as I know it did not change any of the relationships between my friends and me. What it did provide was tangible evidence that Samuel Morse Junior High recognized my achievement, a small token of their appreciation that even though the heads are no longer screwed to the plastic base and the lacquer on drama and comedy is cracking I still treasure dearly decades later.

I Have to Wonder Where This Will Lead: Step 65

At Grantosa Drive Elementary the Jewish population was probably reflective of the national average, which for my lifetime has been right around two percent. While the percentage rose significantly at Samuel Morse Junior High to lets say ten percent, and became higher when limited to those interested in acting, taking into account the propensity of young Jewish students to gravitate to the arts, odds still favored those of a different faith being selected for the lead in the school’s first Christmas play. Such was not the case. Actually, one who recalls the play better than me, who can’t even remember its title, might contend Melinda shared the lead. Far be it from me to dispute such a contention since it’s difficult to recall even a single line of dialogue. What I do recall is though it certainly didn’t carry the weight of O’Henry’s Gift of the Magi it had something to do with gift giving. Needless to say, Mrs. Haggerty, aware of the law governing separation of church and state and highly sensitive to the feelings of students, selected a story with a secular theme. Although there were some humorous moments in the play and I did my best to punch up my lines that got a laugh, the role of Woody was not nearly as much fun as Oakley Cheever. Melinda played my sister and Mike W. who lived up on the corner of Lancaster Avenue played our butler. Woody and his sister’s parents made short appearances at the beginning and the end of the play, but most of the drama in the one act unfolded between the two children and their butler. Let me just point out that while Mrs. Haggerty was sensitive to the kids in the audience, to the best of my knowledge none of them had a butler. Every evening after rehearsal the three of us would walk home together since we all lived in the same direction. Mike W. whose size and demeanor made him an easy selection for the prototypical butler was six months older and a semester ahead of me. He revealed he just wanted to do something with his extra time but his main extracurricular interest was becoming an offensive lineman on the football team next fall at Custer High. I’m sure I shared my interest in becoming a doctor an idea that persisted from the time I broke my leg until I took my first chemistry class. Even though the bug had bitten me, the idea of pursuing acting, as a career seemed to be the kind of crazy illusive fantasy my dream of being a medical doctor turned out to be. On the other hand, Melinda, six months my junior and a semester behind me, held no illusions about acting. She said she knew it would not be easy and her desire was not to become the next Shelley Fabares or Patty Duke, but to attend a university where acting was taken seriously. She said she knew Mrs. Haggerty took acting seriously helping us build our character, find our marks, use props effectively, and project from our diaphragms. Being so much older and wiser I listened intently, but dismissed her vision as naïve. How well we actually performed the day we presented the play to the school is unclear, but I do recall two things that came as a result. Right after the play, when my parents came backstage, Mrs. Haggerty said she was proud of me and I possessed poise and maturity beyond my years. All right, she was probably being kind. The other thing was Jeff, one of the most popular kids at Morse who would later become the quarterback of the Marshall High football team, started calling me Woody. Mike W. did become an offensive lineman on the Custer High football team the next fall in his sophomore year. As for Melinda, I lost track of her and do not have a clue if she ever became an actress, but if she happens to be reading this now I would love to hear from her.

Pass the Stuffing, Please: Step 64

When I was growing up Thanksgiving was the one holiday more than any other I looked forward to all year long. Hanukkah parties, New Year’s Eve, Passover Seders, Fourth of July, and even Halloween could take place somewhere else, but Thanksgiving was the exclusive domain of our house. Mom and Dad would be up early to fight over what should go in the stuffing, whose turn it is to baste the bird, how much juice to add to the cranberry relish, and whether or not we needed both sweet potatoes and mashed potatoes. Amazingly, everything came out perfect every time. Peggy, Neil and I gathered in front of the TV so as not to miss a minute of the Macy Parade. Aunts, uncles, and cousins poured in to sit around the ping pong table running the length of the living room draped with a sheet since they didn’t make tablecloths long enough to cover it. Many years there were more than twenty people gathered for the feast with each family taking home some of the leftovers. My family ruled the day. We were master hosts. Thanksgiving was our day. That’s why looking back it’s hard to reconcile choosing this highly significant day to be the target of confrontation. But, then again, it was the Rolling Stones. Of course, at that time they were just another band following the Beatles across the Atlantic to steal the minds, hearts and souls of good American kids. On the other hand, after hearing Tell Me, the only Jaggers/Richards song on their debut album, which few recall, I thought their musical genius could rival John, Paul, George and Ringo. One might wonder why they chose to play a concert on Thanksgiving, but then they were from England and maybe their producer forgot to mention it, or they just figured it was Milwaukee and who was going to show up anyway. Besides Ron already had the tickets, his parents were letting him go, and the show didn’t start until the evening after everybody would have gone home. I’m not sure the last part was true, but when you are rationalizing with parents one has to go with whatever seems plausible. Our seats were up in the highest tier, but the crowd was so sparse everyone made their way to within twenty rows of the stage. They started out playing their early hits, Carol by Chuck Berry and Not Fade Away by Buddy Holly. Then, they played songs they had written; Tell Me, Heart of Stone and some songs from albums to be released in the new year. One was called Play With Fire and an upbeat number called I Can’t Get No Satisfaction. Right away I knew the strong beat and the double negative would push it to the top of the charts. They finished with what was their current hit Time Is On My Side written by Norman Meade. Still the music is only a small part of the reason one goes to a concert. More than musicians, more than performers, the Rolling Stones were showmen. Bill Wyman was the stoic bass player moving his hands up and down the neck of his guitar without flinching another muscle. Brian Jones with his silky blonde hair forming a flawless mushroom around his head wore bright orange knit bellbottoms with a white mohair turtleneck. Charlie Watts beat the drums into submission while barely moving his head up and down, similar to how Ron responded to the event. Where as I was jumping up and down like the screaming girls next to us. They weren’t the ones who threw their panties on stage, which Keith Richards picked up and wore as an armband when he went over and started singing in the mike held by Mick. Mick Jagger, not fazed in the least, continued to strut across the stage with a long length of cord following him wherever he went. In stark contrast to Wyman, Mick, who had come out wearing an open sport coat and open shirt both of which he took off, rolled up and tossed to the screaming crowd, moved around the stage in his sleeveless t-shirt pointing at his band mates and audience alike with his head jerking like a proud peacock. What a concert. What a night. What a Thanksgiving.

From Where I Stand: Step 62

What an array of topics made news this past week. Headlines included another devastating earthquake in China, immigration reform legislation, a presidential move to grant same-sex partners hospital visitation rights, Tea Party protests on tax day, and unemployment hitting 12.6% in California. While all are important, none of them spoke to me the way the story about the SEC filing a fraud suit against Goldman Sachs did. Now, in fairness to those unlike me who have a strong background in either finances or economics, let me disclose that my last economics class was in high school and my own finances are run through Schools First Federal Credit Union and Union Bank, two institutions I hold in high regard. Although I knew of Goldman Sachs as a firm with an incredible history on Wall Street, their name was not one associated with an average citizen until their former head, Henry Paulson, was making bigger headlines than the two men facing off in the 2008 presidential election. In his role as Secretary of the Treasury he advised President Bush to bailout banks including Goldman Sachs, but not their rivals, Lehman Brothers. This is where we, average citizens, come in, because he used our hard earned dollars to help these poor bankers. Goldman Sachs paid back the billions they borrowed plus 23% interest in just a year. Sounds great, except if these allegations prove true, we start to get a picture of how this conservative institution was able to rebound from devastation to record setting profitability in such a short time. For the simplest explanation I turn to Michael Hiltzik, a business columnist in the Los Angeles Times. “But the ABACUS deal wasn’t a mortgage or a bucket of mortgages. It wasn’t a mortgage-backed security or a portfolio of mortgage-backed securities It wasn’t a collateralized debt obligation, which is a security backed by securities backed by mortgages. It was a ‘synthetic’ version of the latter, which is to say an investment that tracked the performance of certain collateralized debt obligations without actually requiring ownership of them.” In other words it’s a virtual world setup by Goldman Sachs with the help of a hedge fund operator named John Paulson, no relation to Henry, who had a reputation for predicting the collapse of the housing market. They failed to disclose his role in setting up this “synthetic” to the investors who purchased it and lost a billion dollars in a year while Paulson scooped up a billion dollars selling short. Goldman Sachs received 15 million in fees. Amazingly, it is Goldman Sachs and one of their vice presidents, Fabrice Tourre, who initiated ABACUS that are named in the suit, since they allegedly perpetrated the fraud on their investors. One might speculate there was some form of collusion and the suit should have named those who profited from this fraud, but it is important to recognize what a monumental step this was for the SEC, many of whom worked on Wall Street before becoming government agents. Prior to this action, the SEC was reluctant to point a finger let alone bring suit against their former cohorts. Again, I am not a financial wizard, but it doesn’t take a genius to recognize that a bunch of overzealous homebuyers did not cause all this economic turmoil by themselves. In the end I hope some kind of light can be shed on these deceptive practices and it won’t be necessary for me to wear 3-D glasses to figure out what I am seeing.

The Unthinkable: Step 60

When you get to junior high school some things that were considered to be relevant and fun in elementary school suddenly lose their relevance and if you participate in them thinking that they’re still fun your peers don’t want to be seen with you. One of these things is scouting. Wearing a uniform, earning merit badges, going on campouts just wasn’t hip when I was at Samuel Morse. So, I just told my friends who weren’t in the troop I was going camping or swimming, or hanging with some other friends. Which was true, just that whatever I happened to be doing was a boy scout event. Fortunately, for me there was one other guy at Samuel Morse who shared my enthusiasm for scout life and partnered with me in this clandestine activity. His name was Byron G. III, but since his dad was already junior he was simply known as Buzzy. On an early spring day, somewhere around the middle of April, during a weekend camping trip to a wooded area with a small lake Buzzy was the one who dared me to go in the water with him. The air temperature may have been unusually warm, perhaps in the seventies, but Wisconsin lakes, even small ones take their time thawing out between winter and summer. Our skin was immediately covered with millions of goose bumps and our feet as well as our lips took on a beautiful blue hue after our ninety-second emersion. Buzzy was not a mid-year student, and so was a semester behind me in school, but he had twice the confidence, especially when it came to girls. In our tent, after lights out when we were supposed to be silent, Buzz told me about how he had convinced Bernadette to let him touch her breast. Before he told me about how he was kissing her and promised her he would always be true and never tell anyone else about it, he made me promise not to say a word to Tony, our mutual friend and her brother. Actually, Buzzy should be proud of me, because until now I had never shared his story with another soul. Another thing I am pretty sure is true, is Buzz was the first person to call Mr. Ellner, our scoutmaster, Elmo. Unlike other scout leaders, who were usually the parent of one of the scouts, Elmo was a twenty-something who had completed his tour of duty in the Navy and wanted to give back to the organization that had kept him out of trouble and in school. Going over the hills on the way to Friess Lake in his Impala SS with four on the floor and rock and roll blasting was one of the main reasons I took a chance on someone finding out I was still in scouts. My best guess is he didn’t like the nickname but wanted to hang onto as many kids who were in junior high for as long as they’d stay and figured letting them call him Elmo was a small price to pay. He was also the one who explained how serious it was when Buzzy got sick, while our parents didn’t have any explanations. Leukemia was something I had not heard about before, and unfortunately it would be something that would impact my life again in only a half dozen more years. No one is supposed to die at thirteen. There isn’t much I remember about the funeral except Danny, who worked with Dad and was Buzzy’s uncle came over to the house after the service. As we were talking the walls seemed to be moving and my legs became wobbly. Mom had me sit down and said I was probably just starting to feel the impact of what had taken place. Quite honestly, I still feel the impact.

What Was That All About Anyway?: Step 59

Probably everyone remembers a fight or two from their days in school, but chances are if you are anything like me you have not the faintest clue as to why the fight took place. Two such fights took place during my years at Samuel Morse Junior High. Word spread like wildfire that Mike M was going to fight Vic. Both were Italian. Both were short with well-developed upper bodies. And both had a large circle of friends. Vic had the dark wavy hair and brooding good looks of the stereotypical Italian leading man, while Mike had blonde curly hair accented by his black rimmed glasses and gleaming smile. Vic and his friends had little use for school and only planned to hang around until their sixteenth birthdays when they were eligible to dropout and go make some real money. Mike M was the kid Mr. Hrlavich trusted to lock up his office and make sure everyone was out of the locker room, something that teachers can no longer do because of liability issues. He was also an amateur boxer who fought in Gold Gloves tournaments and had plans to go to college. The fight took place in the grassy area in front of the trees at the corner of 84^th and Congress, a spot later to be designated as a city park. As soon as they had taken off their shirts and were facing each other wearing T-shirts that revealed their muscular torsos Vic charged Mike and kicked him the groin. Mike’s hands went down and Vic plowed his knuckles into the side of his face cutting the flesh and causing blood to gush forth. Vic started to kick Mike in the side, but despite his obvious pain Mike grabbed Vic’s leg and threw him to the ground and started to beat on Vic’s head with one punch after another until everyone heard the sirens. All sorts of rumors circulated about what transpired after the crowd dispersed, and neither one returned to school for a while after the fight. When they did return there were no evident injuries or scars as far as I could tell, and for some reason Vic and Mike M became friends despite their differences. Now, the other fight took place between two girls I had known since my earliest days at Grantosa Drive Elementary. In fact, it took place in the empty lot across 82^nd Street from the school and just south of Hampton in what would become in another year the parking lot for the first Kohl’s Department Store. As described earlier, Linda V was a rather flamboyant and flirtatious girl, which stood in stark contrast to Kathy D. who other than the fact she was on just about every class picture I took at Grantosa and my neighbor Wade liked her quiet demure behavior in the third or fourth grade was somebody who was otherwise completely off the radar. Since this was the first fight between girls I would attend I had no idea what to expect, but being an adolescent boy my imagination kicked into high gear and caused my already out of control hormones to ravage my body even further eliciting several responses that I tried futilely to suppress. As a result I held a certain degree of ambivalence toward watching the actual event and made sure to keep my books in hand. Most of the boys wanted to see the girls rip each other’s blouses and a few even yelled out instructions. They immediately went for each other’s hair and both pulled out clumps from the other’s skull. Then, one threw the other to the ground and they tore each other’s pantyhose and when they yanked on their underwear revealing areas even men’s magazines didn’t expose at that time most of the boys, myself included, turned away disappointed. It took the girls a while longer to resume their friendship, but eventually they shared the same common bond they had for years. Which of course leads to the question, what was that all about anyway?

Meeting an Important Celebrity: Step 58

Being a teenager in the era before the internet and ipods meant spending most of your spare time listening to the radio. During the time we spent at Samuel Morse Junior High FM radio was in its infancy and the few stations that existed usually played classical music. In Milwaukee there were two AM stations that played popular, or what became known as Top 40 music. They were WOKY 920 and WRIT 1340. My Uncle Frank had his dentist office in the WOKY building at the corner of Sherman Boulevard and Fond du Lac Avenue. Once I saw Bob White one of the daytime disc jockeys emerge from the station on the main floor as I was leaving. In present day terms this would be about as significant as riding the elevator with the program director for Ryan Seacrest’s radio show. As I mentioned before Gary M had the most popular disc jockey in Milwaukee at the time, Bob Barry, spinning records at his bar mitzvah at the Blatz Pavilion in Lincoln Park. That was before Barry assured himself a place in the Wisconsin Broadcasters Hall of Fame by introducing the Beatles at their only appearance in Milwaukee. It was also the year that Barry was joined by Barney “The Peanut Butter” Pip. Arriving from Youngstown, Ohio with his trademark bugle, Barney Pip would introduce a record by playing an awful note on his instrument, screaming “Peanut butter forever,” and telling kids to wear paperclips to show their solidarity. Bringing to radio the same absurd and obnoxious artistry Steve Allen and Soupy Sales used to capture television audiences, Barney Pip would only stay a year in Milwaukee before catapulting to super stardom and one of the first six figure salaries at WCFL in Chicago. When Ron and I heard that WRIT was bringing a new disc jockey to go head to head with Pip we knew he had to be good, or no one would listen to them anymore. While we usually liked checking out the 92 top songs on the WOKY chart that was available at either the record store or drugstore, the shorter WRIT list of only the top 40 songs often featured some inside information on either the artist at number one or some up and coming group. Adding a publicity photo of one of their disc jockeys was something the station premiered with the arrival of this new guy who was promoting himself as The Duke of Dilemma. In an effort to build excitement for their new personality WRIT announced he would make his initial appearance at Gimbels at Capital Court. Rather than join the crowd in the record department, Ron and I decided to watch for the car we had seen before with the station call letters on the side. Fortunately, we guessed right and Eddie Doucette, The Duke of Dilemma came to the west parking area and was greeted by two boys ten years his junior but just about the same height. Wearing a black sport shirt and black levis he looked the part. He autographed the Top 40 chart writing his name across his promotional photo and asked us where we went to school before handing one to each of us. As we walked with him toward the store we told him the name of our school and he said he’d be sure to mention it on the air. Whether he actually did I can’t recall, but we had connected with the latest personality to penetrate the adolescent audio market. Eddie Doucette lasted a few years in Top 40 and then he became the voice of the new NBA franchise, the Milwaukee Bucks.