Memorial Day used to be called Decoration Day, started by a Civil War general, John Logan in May, perhaps because lots of flowers bloom in May. We always, in all ways, need to remember. Several years ago, on a brutally cold, windy February day, ‘something’ pulled me off the Garden State Parkway on the way home and led me to the New Jersey Vietnam Veterans Memorial. I’d never been there. The conditions were so harsh, no one was around. I walked in strange solitude around the memorial, consisting of 366 panels representing each day of the year (leap year too), reading every name (on the day they died) and finally committing two random names to my everlasting memory; Arthur John Abramoff and Albert Potter.
Fourteen minutes ago, I finished watching the HBO movie, “Taking Chance” starring Kevin Bacon as Lt. Colonel Michael Strobl, who accompanies (a military escort) the body of Chance Phelps, a twenty-year old Marine who was killed in Iraq, back to his final resting place in Dubois, Wyoming. I’m an older guy, sort of, but I don’t mind saying that I had a hard time fighting back tears; some did escape and I pretended a cough to stifle/hide my sniffling sounds from my wife, several inches away on her side of the bed.
On Tuesday and Wednesday I hopped on my favorite train again (you should know by now; the Jersey Coast line), Norah Jones displaced Simon and Garfunkel on my ipod, and for the first time, I brought a camera to document my fixation with the smoke stacks of coastal Jersey. Passing by the Raritan Bay and close to one of my favorite abandoned factories with four prominent erect smoke stacks, I was overcome with a sense of romantic curiosity; who worked here in the 1940’s; did some guys at the factory get to Normandy Beach and did they have kids; what chemicals came out of the smoke stacks; are edible fish in the water near this ghost factory; why no broken windows; why can’t I hear voices if it was a ‘factory of the damned’?
The train shook violently, probably switching gears, but I thought intervention; ‘something’ wanted me to pursue this fascination with smoke stacks. Jersey’s loaded. ‘Kramer’ from ‘Seinfeld’ made a coffee table book. Maybe I could too, but in a serious way. I posted the thought on Facebook. I had a few takers. We’ll see.
The purpose of these weekday train rides was Book Expo America in New York City at Javits Convention center; my third straight year in attendance. With red ruby slippers, I briskly walked up miraculous 34th Street towards Eleventh Avenue and then into Oz, a magical wondrous place of publishers, authors, literary agents, fresh aromas of black printing ink and newly printed books, endless snaking lines for celebrity autographs, eloquent readings by a few authors; thousands of book lovers, bloggers, sellers, sales reps, and mysterious secretive people whose revealing name badges were facing their chests, all crowded narrow precisely numbered aisles for as far as the eye could see.
Big publishing companies had fancy booths with soft carpeting but few places to sit. I found a bench by a down escalator; a stranger from Montana without a hat, sat down next and asked me why there were so few places to sit in this massive exposition hall. I answered right away, “For the same reason casinos in Las Vegas and Atlantic City have no windows or clocks.” Then I walked away satisfied that I was again misunderstood (without pontificating at this blog juncture, it seems I’m always misunderstood. Perhaps destiny. Perhaps Catherine Earnshaw from ‘Wuthering Heights’).
The night before, I outlined my Expo strategy and goals; simply, to meet five people who were appearing. Michael Moore(film maker), Diane Keaton(actress, author), Jeffrey Lyons(film, theatre critic and author) Mike Holmes(author and expert on home renovations) and Joe Pantoliano(actor and author). Why was I so anxious to meet this group? Well, I’m also an author, blogger, networker and I live in New Jersey, the most densely populated state, that is now fighting with the federal government over a cancelled new train tunnel to New York City. The feds say Jersey owes $241 million because Governor Christie cancelled the started project because of rising costs. The governor says no way we pay. I like his toughness. The lawyers defending New Jersey cost $300,000 a month. What if this case drags out for a decade?
Back to Expo. First up, Mike Holmes. A long line waited to see him; I was near the front standing behind three twenty-something girls who perseverated for thirty minutes on how infatuated they were with Mike Holmes. So I thought to myself, a home renovation guy is having the same effect as an aging Justin Bieber or Paul McCartney. When I met Mike, I recanted the story of the three girls and he said something about forgetting he has that effect. What a really nice, genuine, warm guy I thought and explained that I really need his help. I never owned my own tool chest; chests in places where I’ve lived have been a pastel pink color.
For me to meet film maker Michael Moore, who wears a ‘Rutgers’ hat as I do all the time and documents injustice and societal abuses as I do from time to time was akin to a wide-eyed small child waiting to see Santa Claus, Batman, Babe Ruth, Oprah and Dr. King all wrapped up into a cool composite granite-like image; my waiting position was very last on a long line (long story on my position) to get his autograph after his talk to 200 people. I did actually tremor in anticipation. What do I say to him in those few allotted seconds? Time was on my side to prepare. Finally I said, “I admire your work. I write a growing successful world-wide blog which I think you’d like. A few weeks ago I compared Congressman Paul Ryan’s Medicare elimination budget to three movies, ‘Rollerball,’ ‘Logan’s Run,’ and ‘Soylent Green.'” He said, “I like your blog already,” and asked for my business card. And I flashed dreamt that I have a new loyal reader.
As I write this blog on Memorial Day, I think about folks who don’t like Michael Moore‘s politics but I also think about all the brave Americans who gave(and still do today) their lives so we may have the freedoms to speak out. And then I wonder about the evils of some American corporations, if left alone, what they’d be doing if there weren’t Michael Moore’s around to alert and make us aware.
In my novel, ‘Vichy Water,’ there was a paragraph about some American companies since 1945 that collectively have killed more people (50 million) than the Nazi’s during World War II. Perhaps not too far fetched, when you think of tobacco companies, or drug companies not recalling a ‘bad’ drug(recent diabetes drug) or car companies being told by actuaries to leave a ‘bad’ car on the market an extra year without recalling; extra sales would more than pay additional law suits for those that died in crashes. Throw in movie theatre companies that load popcorn with copious salt or fast food companies that just ‘load’ or cell phone companies who might one day face a global epidemic of brain cancers or coal burning companies spewing carcinogens into our air. It all adds up to a lot of deceased people. Michael Moore alerts us (heightened awareness and thought/debate provoking) as a free society. Anyway, what’s bad about universal health care or getting out of Iraq or knowing about the excesses of Wall Street or standing up for the little guy (300 million of us in America)?
I was hungry after waiting in lines, the tremors of excitement easing, but curiously, images of tornado damage in Joplin and Alabama suddenly thrashed around my cerebral outposts. I wondered why thoughts about these tragedies just hit me while walking to the food court for a tuna fish sandwich. The sun was shining brightly through clear Javits center glass; actually an epiphany about the reality of global warming with its intense storms that scientists said would eventuate, hit me hard. I passed on a $9 tuna sandwich (thick bread and hardly any tuna fish) and decided on a carrot-beet juice drink. It was nearly 2 PM and time for Jeffrey Lyons. Better carrot juice than tuna on my breath, I thought smiling, walking briskly to see another idol of mine. Readers of my blog must know by now my fascination with movies.
Jeffrey Lyons is an amazing movie and theatre critic, front and center for me the past forty movie viewing years, adeptly guiding me what to see (His critiques always work for me. I either go or don’t go usually based on what he says). He wrote, ‘Stories My Father Told Me. Notes From “The Lyons Den” ‘ published by Abbeville Press. Jeffrey’s father, Leonard, was one of the most incredible ‘gentle’ journalists in history, writing an ‘institution’ of a column for forty years (1934-1974) for the New York Post. I couldn’t wait to get on the train and start reading it. The anecdotes from his father’s years (and his) and friendships with the likes of basically ‘the world’ we call celebrities is boundless and priceless. I never jump into a book on a train. I am glad I did. As I exercise bike ride my way through Jeffrey’s anecdotal heaven, I’ll keep you all posted.
And where was Diane Keaton? I’ve been quoting her from ‘Annie Hall’ when she says, “La De Dah” for a generation but I couldn’t find her and of course I never ask directions. Next up; another favorite personality for me and closure of my time at Book Expo; Joe Pantoliano (Joey Pants) is as riveting and intense a character actor as ever in history. I marvel at his acting and I told him just that. His memoir, “Asylum” is coming out in 2012. There was a forward to read from this memoir about Hollywood, mental illness, recovery, and being his mother’s son; it was potent and engaging. He writes like he acts, with a textured reality and he was perfectly charming in the few minutes that I told him I used to sell eyeglasses to his cousin. We laughed heartily (mostly an ‘inside’ laugh) and his warm smile kept hanging around so I took my camera out.
The governor bit from this blog title is my cherished musings time on this Memorial Day night. ‘Taking Chance’ is on again. What’s the deal with Governor Scott Walker of Wisconsin (home state to Paul Ryan and his Medicare killing budget) and a bill making Wisconsin’s voter identification requirements the toughest in the country. Walker (the end of union collective bargaining Walker) reminds of those videos from spring break, “Governors Gone Wild.” Better news is that his approval rating has dropped about 10 points since November to 44%. New Jersey Governor Christie’s approval rating is tanking too, down to 45% and the NJ State Supreme Court recently yelled and told him to give back to the poor school districts in New Jersey the funding he took away. Christie also withdrew New Jersey from the regional treaty on climate change and recently took a state helicopter to see his son play little league baseball. And pending law in Florida would make it illegal for pediatricians to ask families whether guns are being safely kept in their patients’ homes (‘redolent’ is a really good word to use in another sentence here). Florida Governor Rick Scott’s approval rating dropped to a new low (29%) following the annual legislative session and passage of an austere Scott-supported budget.
Of course I don’t think that has much bearing on the fact that this generation of kids will be the first in Earth history to have less life expectancy. I wonder if there’s a correlation to the fact that $1.6 billion is spent on advertising junk food to children. Remember last week’s blog, when I thought my son had a shot at doing 8000 chicken nuggets? We had a serious talk the other night as he finished a plastic container filled with spare ribs while I woofed down brown rice and vegetables. I said calmly, “Nutrition is the area where I failed you as an instructional father as you spread your wings and fly.” I need to now find myself a rocking chair and build an old fashioned porch and rock away the hours; this makes me remember a poignant scene from ‘Yankee Doodle Dandy,’ towards the end, when a grey-haired James Cagney (George M. Cohan) confronts a bunch of ‘kids’ singing ‘Jeepers, Creepers;’ a defining moment of the essence of generation gap for me. I guess you have to see the movie.
Memorial Day is winding down. At the end of the movie ‘Taking Chance,’ there’s a powerful thought about the wonderful quality of the young deceased Marine, Chance Phelps. A message unfolds towards the end: If there were more people like him in the Marines, there wouldn’t be the need for Marines. It’s a nice way to finish a holiday that remembers all our Armed Forces right back to George Washington and the Minute Men. I need a long minute to collect myself.
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Book Trailer (65 seconds long) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qj2ko9gcC_M