Canto I. Long ago and far away...

Under the bridge across the Kankakee River, Grampa found me. I was busted for truancy. First grade. 1946.

Summer and after school: Paper route, neighborhood yard work, dogsbody in a drugstore, measuring houses for the county, fireman EJ&E railroad, janitor and bottling line Pabst Brewery Peoria. 1952-1962.

Fresh caught Mississippi River catfish. Muddy Yummy. Burlington, Iowa. 1959. Best ever.

In college, Fr. ***** usually confused me with my roommate, Al. Except for grades. St. Procopius College, 1958-62. Rats.

Coming home from college for Christmas. Oops, my family moved a few streets over and forgot to tell me. Peoria, 1961.

The Pabst Brewery lunchroom in Peoria, a little after dawn, my first day. A guy came in and said: "Who wants my horsecock sandwich? ****, this first beer tastes good." We never knew how many he drank. 1962.

At grad school, when we moved into the basement with the octopus furnace, Dave, my roommate, contributed a case of Chef Boyardee spaghettios and I brought 3 cases of beer, PBRs.  Supper for a month. Ames. 1962.

Sharon and I were making out in the afternoon, clothes a jumble. Walter Cronkite said, " President Kennedy has been shot…”. Ames, 1963.

I stood in line, in my shorts, waiting for the clap-check. The corporal shouted:  "All right, you *******, Uncle and the Republic of Viet Nam want your sorry *****. Drop 'em".  Des Moines. Deferred, 1964.

Married and living in student housing. Packing crate furniture. Pammel Court, 1966.

One of many undistinguished PhD theses on theoretical physics. Ames. 1967.

He electrified the room. Every woman in the room, regardless of age, wanted him, or seemed to. The atmosphere was primeval and dripping with desire. In the presence of greatness. Palo Alto, 1968.

US science jobs dried up. From a mountain-top, beery conversation, I got a research job in Germany. Boulder, 1968. Aachen, 1969.

The first time I saw automatic weapons at an airport. Geneva, 1970.

I toasted Rembrandt with sparkling wine at the Rijksmuseum. He said nothing. Amsterdam International Conference on Elementary Particles. 1971.

A little drunk, but sobering fast: the guard had Khrushchev teeth.
Midnight, alone, locked in a room at the border.
Hours later, release. East Berlin, 1973. Harrassment.

She said, "You know it's remarkable that we're not having an affair." No, it wasn't. George's wife.  Germany, 1973.

"Maybe there really are quarks, but if so, we'll never see them." Truer than I knew.  Exit to Huntsville, 1974.

On my first day at work, my first federal felony. As a joke, I impersonated an FBI agent. What the hell? Huntsville. 1974. Guess what?-- No witnesses left! 2021.

Hard work, good times, difficult times. The first years in Huntsville are not fully digested and may stay that way.

The golden Lord Buddha radiated peace with his smile. Pop, pop. Shots in the distance. Bangkok. 1992.

Accomplishment at work, discord at home. Divorce. Huntsville. 1994. I got the dogs.

New beginnings, a fresh start, true love and life-partner. Huntsville. 1995.

Canto II. In the present century...

Should be working on a proposal, but riveted to the TV. The day the towers fell and nearly 4000 people perished. September 11, 2001.

I started painting. Old barns and such. 2004.

We bet on how many dead bodies we would see. None, but lots of flip-flops and a sheep. Secrets of the Yangtze. 2004

I quietly admired a Rembrandt portrait at the Schiphol airport. Ever inscrutable, his painting had presence, even as the bomb dogs sniffed by. Beagles. 2006.

I’ve lost two close friends that I’ve known for 50-odd years. There aren’t many more. Huntsville. 2008 and 2011.

Here's some career advice: On your desk, keep a coffee cup marked, "No Whining", that side out. Third and final retirement. 2015.

I occasionally kick myself for not staying with physics—I’m jealous of friends that did. I moved on, but stayed interested. Continuing.

I’m eighty years old and walk like a duck. 2021.

Letter: "Your insurance has lapsed but for $60,000, it can be reinstated provided you are alive when we receive the premium." Life at 81. Huntsville, 2022.

Canto III: Coda

Honest distortions emerging from the distance of time. The thin comfort of fading memories. Thoughts on poor decisions and worse outcomes. Not often, but every now and then.

(Begun May 2016)

It was famous celebrities I met
It was all in a normal set
I met David Rockefeller, former Chase Chairmen
He had a top position being the number one rank
We bumped into each other and talked for 5 minutes in Rockefeller Center
Later it was Cardinal Terrance Cooke of St. Patrick’s Cathedral
We shook hands on the steps of the Cathedral on 5th Avenue at a time when the church was celebrating their 100th Centennial
Who could forget Arnold Schwarzzenger long before he became Governor of California
It was a vintage when he competed in bodybuilding competition with the top Bodybuilding
Title being Mr. Olympia
We met at the Mid-City Gym, a ******* gym back in the day with many famous Soap Actors and Wrestlers who trained there
Speaking of Wrestlers, I met Superstar Billy Graham and Irvin, the Polish Power
Who could forget Ralph Nader, Politician advocate
It was at CNN Center in Atlanta, Georgia where met the Media Chief, Ted Turner
It was an acquaintance as he came flying through the stair doors where we were standing with our Tour guide
It wasn’t part of the tour, but was a lucky stride
So I was my own Walter Cronkite in seeing celebrities with my own eyes
My own Media event with captured moments in how my time was spent.

I drove to heaven today.

I drove into it. I waited patiently
five minutes the light lasted.

A one lane into heaven,
and one lane out.

Some people were alone in their cars.
Some were a whole family.

It seems only few were rejected.
Only few cars passed,
while I waited patiently for that tunnel light.

Single filed we drove and it grew dark with light
only evenly spaced out above us.

No one was biking into heaven today.
The light at the end of the tunnel
gradually became brighter, and more
beautiful.

It was a quiet and peaceful drive.
I knew where I was going.

I parked my car where I could find room.
Heaven seemed cramped.
There ought to have been a carpool/bus system.

I got out and strolled.
I had my flip flops and blazer on.
I was ready.
I walk towards the beach.
There is no fog.

The water is clearer than before.
It was beautiful out.
I just stared out into the distance.
there were surfers not surfing
very well.
but no one seemed to mind.
People were laughing and giggling
but there was no sound.
Only the sound the waves made in the distance.


I knew we were all going to be let in soon
The 'sun' was setting and
a storm seemed to block the way of the sun
as it grew slightly dimmer
and the faces grew darker
I decided I ought to leave.
Not because I did not want to go to Heaven
but I know nothing else
other than this life.

No one paid any attention to me.
And those who were rejected
their cars had left.

The parking lot empty.
I drove a different path and waited.
5 minutes for the light to turn again.

5 minutes to go into the tunnel
and back to earth.

Still today
Danang. Saigon.Tet.
Mi Lai. ** Chi min trail.
All and more on reverb
The unwinable in black body bags.
Dam.

Just like Cronkite's musdtache goimg on and on
Drafted into the  wood chipper
The buzz saw. for what.
Then the embassy buggie.
Choppers listing into the sea.

Half baked. Blood on ground.
For what.

Visit Vietnam. A travelers paradise. Half price
now with great accomodations.
Cambodia too.for the price of one.
Kamir Red.
How many dead?
For what.

While the sun is sleeping and the morning dj's too,
The radio news anchor is in to work by three
It's not because we're busy, or we're special..no, no , no
It's because the station trusts us, and besides...we have the key!!

We're on the road, at Dunkin' Donuts,
while the day olds are still fresh
We're in before the DJ's
Because we don't live like Phil Lesh

By the time the DJ's wander in
We've read more, than they will say
We've even cued up the morning intro
We know the songs they all will play

We have our room for research
Actually, two newspapers and a phone
We're not quite Walter Cronkite
But, hey...throw us a bone

The life of a radio anchor
Is not one that's all rosy
We do it 'cause we love it
It's not just because we're nosy

We get the freshest donuts, hottest coffee and the key
And did I neglect to mention, first one in gets donuts free?
The DJ's do their concerts, party hard, are full of soul
And twice a week you'll find them, down at Skippy's Pool and Bowl

We're not all like Les Nessman
Although, there is  a part of me
That would love to have a station
Like old W K R P

The life of the news anchor
Starts out daily in the dark
We dig around for stories
And make up others for a lark

We are in line for more promotions
We're the one that the boss sees
Did I mention, we get donuts
And that the boss gives us the key?

Back in the days of Vietnam
We said: “Make Love, not war.”
No matter how many Cong we killed
Like Doritos, they made more.
Walter Cronkite helped keep score
as the toll grew ever higher.
Foes relentless as the monsoon rains
They made Nam a quagmire.
We killed them all three times at least
Surely all of them were gone.
Then shortly after we had left
They turned up in Saigon!
Now we’re in a forever war
without a likely winner.
A pity we can claim a draw
And bring the boys home for dinner.

My mother had just put me down for a nap

And was folding clean diapers on her lap

When Cronkite broke in on her show

And announced for everyone to know

That JFK had been shot in Dallas

He didn't want to be callous

Soon Cronkite would announce

The death of Kennedy he pronounced

My parents for many days were  inconsolable

As this tragedy to the world was quite horrible

All this had happened and it was quite fast

News was coming and it was constant and vast

My father’s birthday that day was to be celebrated

But my parents agreed it would have to be belated

The world had just changed and in shock and everyone remained.

No one could speak and it seemed everyone was ashamed.

Of whom really shot our President JFK

On that chilly, frightening, and horrifying day.




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