Before I get a chance to talk about this new Bruce Springsteen book, it’s time for some old fashioned drifting back to the future. Tuesday night before Thanksgiving: 11:23 pm; 42 years ago at this exact moment in time I was having a disagreement with my first wife to be. We were getting married Wednesday, that next night before Thanksgiving (it’s a cheap catering night). I didn’t take her to lunch earlier but hung with a few friends in a lame attempt at a bachelor party. So we disagreed about the principle behind such presumed negligence and then, after a brief stint in the small bathroom off my mother’s kitchen, she ran out of the house crying, slamming every door in her way. I stood frozen and stolid like I am now writing this blog. I would’ve been married 42 years if. That’s a significant number; eight years away from celebrating a 50th anniversary, picking out a place for final resting together and an assisted living home with video games in the day room and an old copy of ‘Peyton Place’ in the library.
But that first marriage was incredibly statistically accurate; we almost made it to the obligatory first marriage duration of four years which set me up perfectly for the rest of my life. So at pre-Thanksgiving every year since she ran into the small bathroom and then bolted, I especially give thanks to the universe for all my blessings like the fortunate lessons learned from the bolting (she was not meant to be in my life). This is a magical time of year. Back then, my parents were around (living). So was an aunt who once found me in a partially compromised state of being clothed a week before Thanksgiving in a vacant apartment in her apartment house she inherited from my uncle who got tired of life. And I’ve been thinking about that uncle, the reach of genetics, and why people get tired of life. Perhaps that’s why I’ve been championing the cause of living to 150 years; there’s still so much to do and new careers to prepare for; like journalism, TV reporting and programming. I’m deliriously happy.
When I was five years old, I started watching ‘The March of the Wooden Soldiers’ usually on New York’s Channel 11 (WPIX). I do believe, I’ve never missed a Thanksgiving. I see an outline of a fiddler on my neighbor’s roof, yelling at me, “Tradition.” When my son was five, I introduced him to Laurel and Hardy, Toyland and the March. Up to two years ago, I guilt-tripped him into watching with me. But alas it is a wonderful holiday. The more gratitude you throw into the universe, the more you’ll have to be grateful for. The average amount of calories consumed in the complete Thanksgiving meal borders on 4500 calories. For my purposes, that’s five hours on the exercise bike. This just in: Newark Airport, forty minutes from my keyboard, has just been ranked as the second worst airport in America. I’m grateful for the streams of consciousness which flow and ebb just enough every week to keep this blog replete.
Last week on Wednesday November 16, I attended the Eagleton Institute of Politics lecture with John Dean, ‘Ethics, Law, and Government; Drawing the Right Lessons from Watergate.’ Here’s what’s rather synchronistic with respect to the first part of this blog. In the waning days of my first marriage, I spent weeks watching one of my heroes, John Dean, testifying at the Watergate hearings. He was a hero for a lot of reasons; doing the right thing despite President Nixon, a loyal and devoted wife Maureen (to whom he is still married to) sitting staunchly, supporting him through the testimony, possession of cerebral facilities to remember minute details and bravely accepting punishment. I was so engrossed with John Dean for all that time that I didn’t spend enough time trying to save a marriage; perhaps the night before my wedding pre-disastered it anyway.
Another hero emerged from those days; Ben Bradlee, editor of the Washington Post, who bravely dispatched Woodward and Bernstein to unravel one of the greatest political scandals. Now a funny thing; I’ve always thought about meeting both of these men, engaging and relaying their hero status. Mission accomplished last Wednesday with Dean. I met Ben Bradlee a few years ago, delivering one of my famous gentle hugs. I told John Dean that he was responsible for the break-up of my first marriage. He laughed and asked if I re-married. I said, “Happily for the last 34 years.” Then we shook hands and I said, “You’re still a hero.” He’s researching another book on Watergate as the 40th anniversary of the break-in is in June, 2012.
More important than hugs and photo-ops were the words of John Dean, talking to a packed Rutgers audience. Dean thought the kind of investigative journalism which caused Nixon to ultimately resign in August 1974 is lost to our times of economic distress. The ‘Presidential Records Act’ which took possession of Nixon’s papers was diluted by George Bush. Dean said those first days after the break-in at Watergate “cast the dye” in how little Nixon was told. During those days, the White House pondered breaking up the media and now 40 years later, the wish comes true with Fox news heading to the right, etc. On a lighter note, Dean is convinced that Nixon never caused that famous 18 1/2 minute gap in his tape, citing “He wasn’t mechanical enough. He couldn’t even open up medicine bottles.” Finally, as I visualized Robert Redford and Dustin Hoffman from the movie, ‘All the President’s Men,’ Dean said it was not great reality theater, that they (Woodward and Bernstein) did not crack the story.
I suppose a bit Thanksgiving theme to realize I’ve now met both of my idols from those bygone days of youth, called Watergate. And why does Forrest Gump come to mind all of a sudden? Why do I feel like running to Arizona now? If only I could’ve met President Kennedy. I was so taken with my first President as a young man nearing voting age; I used to practice imitating him with that distinct Boston accent. Actually I was pretty proficient; even went on stage and delivered my version of his inaugural address. “And Caroline, the uh, rubber duck is mine.”
Changing times and directions: Last Saturday night inAsbury Park, I had the honor of being involved in covering for NJ Discover TV an amazing jazz concert at Chico’s House of Jazz. Talk about giving thanks; I had the opportunity to interview on TV, Randall Haywood (trumpet), Victor Jones (world pre-eminent jazz drummer), Jay Rodriguez (saxaphone), Andy McKee(Bass) and Tom McEvoy (piano). Haywood, who has an uncle who played with Jimi Hendrix, recently played with rapper Ludacris and has been on Letterman and Leno and teaches music in a local school system. We met the previous week for several hours and on camera for nearly a half-hour. I take this quite seriously.
The NJ Discover TV Interview and Concert Highlights: A MUST WATCH
Interview & concert highlights of house of jazz in asbury park
Randall is nothing short of a musical treasure and success story; pre-ordained destiny took him from Jacksonville to all over the world performing. The concert was mesmerizing. Actually it was so hot we all had to run outside for a fire drill. They mixed old and new that Haywood recently wrote. And Victor Jones on the drums: I told him I’d come to Newark’s Skippers Lounge to continue watching him. Four weeks ago this kind of journalistic activity was more remote than a distant galaxy and now with red forearms from excessive pinching, I find myself doing TV interviewing and exploring worlds of music. It is a wonderful life and instead of Forrest, I do feel like George Bailey. Everything is spinning as if in a centrifuge. There’s some out of body thankfulness that I’m no where near mid-age if I’m living to 150 years, fulfilling more dreams.
A month ago I was contacted by Lawrence Kirsch, author and publisher of boutique books, especially about Bruce Springsteen. Would I like to review ‘The Light In Darkness,’ his latest work, about Bruce Springsteen’s 1978 ‘Darkness on the Edge of Town’ album and the tour as vividly articulated by Bruce Springsteen fans? Of course, being one of those fans, I said how fast can I get the book and how high do I jump. My jumping was not high enough; this was a perfect pictorial and word journey that took me soulfully back to 1978-1979. The pictures magically carpeted me into that world of Bruce Springsteen touring, making me feel as if I was slipping through that elusive Freehold rabbit hole through a looking glass.
It was a perfect journey back to the future. Kirsch did amazing work analyzing themes of the album; timing is everything as Springsteen just announced his 2012 tour. I’m not in the habit of tiptoeing through endorsements; however if you’ve got any proclivities and affinities for Bruce and dreams and memories or verbal historic incisions, then you should order this limited edition book which is only available on line at http://www.thelightindarkness.com/home/
And this makes a special holiday gift!! Funny; every day I manage to look at the pictures in the book. And a confession proudly conceived. Just as I always hoped to bump into Ben Bradlee and John Dean; well the same goes for Bruce Springsteen. The book is a taste. Someday over a Freehold, New Jersey rainbow, maybe Springsteen.
Soon I’ll be watching ‘March of the Wooden Soldiers’ and almost simultaneously, the Macy’s parade; it’s called flicking to avoid commercials. My son moved out in June, so no matter what, it’s a solo watch. My little boy all grown up called me the other day, upset about the world and protesting and Occupy and Mayor Bloomberg kicking protestors out of Zuccotti Park near Wall Street. He tripped me back to the sixties, when I knew about protesting everything.
I’ll always regret (maybe one of my top ten life’s regrets) not having marched on Washington with Dr. King on August 28, 1963. Then he tells me almost sheepishly that Occupy is all hot air; that’s it’s a shamble and almost a caste system. He was disillusioned which reminded me of the chimpanzee Lucius from ‘Planet of the Apes’ that Charlton Heston had to give a pep talk to about ‘adults.’ I asked him to explain disdain. “Dad the rich people in Occupy who were camped out had an espresso machine hooked up to a bike. There was no middle class. And they didn’t share with the poor.” And suddenly I was overcome with the futility of explaining human nature, the tower of babble and that nothing has changed about human nature since our cousins, the Cro-Magnons from aNorth Jerseysuburb were fumbling around with something that resembled the first wheel. What we have here is a failure to communicate, I thought. How would I explain the espresso machine deal to my son? Then I said to him, “Mom is calling. We’ll talk later.” And we didn’t. Over my desk is a small picture of an ostrich.
Finally on the health front and living to 150 years; there have been some disturbing studies on BPA (bisphenol A) that shows the urine of people who consume canned soup contain surprisingly high levels of BPA, a hormone-disrupting compound linked to health problems including heart disease, diabetes, and obesity.
People who consumed one serving of canned soup a day for five days had a more than 1,000 percent increase in urinary BPA over people who consumed fresh soup for five days. Drinking beverages that have been stored in certain hard plastics can increase the amount of BPA in your body. BPA is used in the linings of metal food and beverage cans as well as in certain plastic bottles and dental sealants. And I wonder how many white doves have to blow in the wind before they take it out of the lining. It’s about money.
Memories of Thanksgivings and gatherings of family and friends is such a powerful force within the neuronal pathways of my composition. There’s a longing to find a waiting worm hole for me to slip through. I want back. I want my mother to send me off to the grocer for an extra apple cider gallon. I want my older sister to hug and thank me for being a good big brother. I took her to a first Broadway play before Thanksgiving. ‘Fiddler on the Roof.’ Tradition. What happens to traditions and sisters? I love Thanksgivings when all the leaves that were green turn to brown and vacate their places of attachment to branches and the sky is steel gray, ominous and cold. I’ll plunge into my journalism journeys in the New Year. There are miles to go before I sleep or weep. I can almost see Ollie and Stannie reassuring Mother Widow Peep who lived in a shoe that everything would be alright. Thanksgiving is magic. I think by next year I’ll have so much more to be thankful for. I think next September I’ll start dreaming about the holiday earlier than ever before. Maybe I’ll cheat and watch the VHS ‘March of the Wooden Soldiers’ a few months early too. Maybe ‘Fiddler on the Roof’ will be back on Broadway.
CONTACT INFORMATION
website: http://vichywater.net/
Facebook: Cal Schwartz
Twitter: Earthood
book trailer. hey its 65 seconds long
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qj2ko9gcC_M
IMPORTANT LINKS:
If on Facebook check out this NJ Discover site:
https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100000125711074
OR www.njdiscover.com
ARE you in search of another blog that is also outspoken, unique BUT refreshingly, topically unbridled which means uninhibited ???? Meet LINDA CHORNEY:
http://lindachorney.wordpress.com/
Immortality Institute (which represents advocacy and research for unlimited lifespan)
August 2011. Guest on Alicia Cramer Show (podcast) “Thin Healthy Happy” :
http://wausauhypnotherapy.podbean.com/2011/08/02/calvin-barry-schwartz-interview-on-living-life/
LINKS TO VIDEOS
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DfFA-y115nc&feature=autoshare
1. ZOMBIE WALK October 22, 2011
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6dbtCJifzpQ
2. 9-11 lecture atMonmouthUniversitywith Govenor Tom Kean
Nov 3, 2011
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fYwkaa_xreg&feature=related
3. VETERANS DAY NJVIETNAMMEMORIAL
Nov 11, 2011
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TNohzH8AHvM&feature=player_embedded
4. RANDALL HAYWOOD & JAZZ CONCERT
Nov 19, 2011