A few years ago, I remember sitting in the Cleveland Browns football stadium, watching the football team lose another game. They were really, really awful. The one high point would be when the music began and the crowd broke out into "Hang on Sloopy, Sloopy hang on. Come on! Come On!" After a few lines of the song, the people would shout out...O - H - I - O! They would spell out the word OHIO, while using their hands and arms. All I can say is the fans didn't have much to cheer about but when this song broke out, it rocked the stadium.
In 1985, the Ohio General Assembly approved the song "Hang on Sloopy" as the official rock song for Ohio. Ohio is the only state to have an official rock song. This makes perfect sense to me because Cleveland, Ohio has the Rock-and-Roll-Hall-of-Fame. The OSU marching band started to play this song in 1965, and has adopted it as their official marching band song. They play it at every football game.
Usually during the Cleveland Browns football season, the Ohio State University marching band performs at half time and plays what has become their rock song. The crowd sings along with the band and spells out O - H - I - I with their arms and hand gestures, while the Drum Major dots the "i." It is a sight to behold. It still is whenever the Ohio State Marching Band plays at the Stadium. I really get into it, wishing I had gone to OSU, but instead I received my undergraduate degree in Journalism from another Ohio college. Yet I love the Buckeyes and when that songs breaks out - I am one of them. So, "Hang on Sloopy, Sloopy hang on. Come on! Come on !...O - H - I - O. Go Buckeyes!
Just in case you are curious...in 1965 the band, The McCoys, originally sang this song and made it a big hit. The McCoys were from Dayton, Ohio.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Baseball Morsels
The boys of summer are back at spring training camp. I have a few teams that I root for. Living in Pittsburgh I cheer for the Pirates even through I know they'll finish the season at .500. They have a revolving door for owners, coaches, and decent baseball players. I am amazed that they still have fans. But their stadium, PNC Park is one of the nicest baseball stadiums around the league.
* * *
I am still a Cleveland Indians fan. Even though I respect Native Americans, Chief Wahoo, the 'red faced' Indian's mascot doesn't offend me. But saying that, the Mob or the television series, The Sopranos, doesn't offend me because I am Italian.
* * *
Having been born in New York, I secretly love the Yankees. My father and brother were loyal fans, as were the rest of my New York relatives, so that rubbed off on me. I wasn't alive when Lou Gehrig played for the Yankees, but he will always be my favorite player. His nickname, The Iron Horse, suited him. He was strong and steady and a gentleman. He played with class and when he retired from the game with Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis (ALS, or now known as Lou Gehrig's disease), he did that with grace and class.
* * *
I used to watch Barry Bonds and cheered for him, when he played for the Pittsburgh Pirates. I cheered even though his bat shut down in the playoffs. He was no Mr. October. Later on when he was with the San Francisco Giants, it was hard to believe he was the same person. I wondered with bulking up and having your head expand three cap sizes, well, he just didn't look like the Old Barry Bonds who used to play for the Pirates. He is now on trial for perjury and obstruction of justice in connection with steroid usage. Will a shadow hang over his head? For me, there will always be a question of his record setting hits. Like all players who have been charged or found guilty of steroid use - I hope Bonds has to wait a very long time to get into the Baseball Hall of Fame. If he does get into it, much like some of the other players who are in the Hall of Fame, and have been known to use illegal substances, a big black asterisk should appear by all of their names.
* * *
I am still a Cleveland Indians fan. Even though I respect Native Americans, Chief Wahoo, the 'red faced' Indian's mascot doesn't offend me. But saying that, the Mob or the television series, The Sopranos, doesn't offend me because I am Italian.
* * *
Having been born in New York, I secretly love the Yankees. My father and brother were loyal fans, as were the rest of my New York relatives, so that rubbed off on me. I wasn't alive when Lou Gehrig played for the Yankees, but he will always be my favorite player. His nickname, The Iron Horse, suited him. He was strong and steady and a gentleman. He played with class and when he retired from the game with Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis (ALS, or now known as Lou Gehrig's disease), he did that with grace and class.
* * *
I used to watch Barry Bonds and cheered for him, when he played for the Pittsburgh Pirates. I cheered even though his bat shut down in the playoffs. He was no Mr. October. Later on when he was with the San Francisco Giants, it was hard to believe he was the same person. I wondered with bulking up and having your head expand three cap sizes, well, he just didn't look like the Old Barry Bonds who used to play for the Pirates. He is now on trial for perjury and obstruction of justice in connection with steroid usage. Will a shadow hang over his head? For me, there will always be a question of his record setting hits. Like all players who have been charged or found guilty of steroid use - I hope Bonds has to wait a very long time to get into the Baseball Hall of Fame. If he does get into it, much like some of the other players who are in the Hall of Fame, and have been known to use illegal substances, a big black asterisk should appear by all of their names.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Lincoln Lawyer
I love to read. when I find an author that I really like, and become hooked on their books...I read every book by that author, non-stop. Years ago, while looking through the mystery section of the book store, I happened on the author, Michael Connelly. After I read his first book, The Black Echo, I devoured everyone that I could fine. Connelly has written 28 books.
Now the movie, The Lincoln Lawyer, came out based on Connelly's book. The Lincoln Lawyer centers on a lawyer, Mickey Haller who works out of his Lincoln car. I wasn't disappointed. I was riveted in my seat and it didn't hurt to have Matthew McConaughey play the title role, or Josh Lucas in the movie. They are both cute and good actors as well.
If you like a good mystery, good acting, then go and see The Lincoln Lawyer. If you like a good mystery, well written and well developed characters, then Connelly's your man. He has enough books to keep you interested and when you come to his final book, you'll miss Connelly. Maybe you will want to re-read the books to see what you have missed. Don't worry...on April 5, 2011; another Connelly book will be released, The Fifth Witness. This book is about Mickey Haller.
Most of Connelly's books are a series about Harry Bosch, a Los Angeles police detective. Bosch was named after the 15th Century Dutch painter, Hieronymus Bosch. Bosch stars in about 13 books starting with The Black Echo to Nine Dragons. Bosch and Haller are found in The Brass Verdict, and The Reversal. Pick up one of Connelly's books or go and see The Lincoln Lawyer. Like I said before, you won't be disappointed.
Now the movie, The Lincoln Lawyer, came out based on Connelly's book. The Lincoln Lawyer centers on a lawyer, Mickey Haller who works out of his Lincoln car. I wasn't disappointed. I was riveted in my seat and it didn't hurt to have Matthew McConaughey play the title role, or Josh Lucas in the movie. They are both cute and good actors as well.
If you like a good mystery, good acting, then go and see The Lincoln Lawyer. If you like a good mystery, well written and well developed characters, then Connelly's your man. He has enough books to keep you interested and when you come to his final book, you'll miss Connelly. Maybe you will want to re-read the books to see what you have missed. Don't worry...on April 5, 2011; another Connelly book will be released, The Fifth Witness. This book is about Mickey Haller.
Most of Connelly's books are a series about Harry Bosch, a Los Angeles police detective. Bosch was named after the 15th Century Dutch painter, Hieronymus Bosch. Bosch stars in about 13 books starting with The Black Echo to Nine Dragons. Bosch and Haller are found in The Brass Verdict, and The Reversal. Pick up one of Connelly's books or go and see The Lincoln Lawyer. Like I said before, you won't be disappointed.
Friday, March 18, 2011
More Pets
After I got married, I knew the first thing that I wanted was a dog. Unfortunately, the man I was married to was allergic to dogs. Goodbye to a St. Bernard and any other dog. So, the next best thing was to get a cat, and we did. In my entire married life there would be nine kids and more cats then I can count, two hidden dogs, three turtles, guinea pigs, gerbils, hamsters, goldfish, exotic fish, an iguana, and of course a few rabbits.
The animals in our lives left memorable footprints on our hearts and lots of smells and droppings in our home. We started out with one cat, Pierre, and then a second one, Barney, that we had for a long time. Then came Casey and Archie.
Years later, our friends were moving to California and needed to leave behind their 2-year-old Irish Setter, Rusty. We took Rusty and within the hour, my husband's allergy started. He coughed, he wheezed, his eyes watered, and he had a hard time breathing until he took an allergy pill. We still kept the dog. But five days later, my youngest son, packed a bag and sat on a table, tired and freaked out from having Rusty lie spread eagle on top of him. Rusty went back to his happy owners, and my son unpacked his bags and stayed.
My oldest daughter seemed to be the animal lover. She collected animals like little girls collected Barbie dolls. As a matter of fact, she never had any Barbie dolls. Instead she collected cats, which died or ran away. She had a 20-gallon fish tank, filled with tropical fish. Her younger sister knocked the tank over, and some of the fish died, our cat ate a few, some were stepped on, and three survived. Weeks later, my daughter would find one surviving fish in her desk drawer, swimming around a tiny pool of water in the corner of the drawer. She also owned an ugly iguana that grew bigger and went off to college with her.
We had two boxing turtles, which stunk up our home. My cleaning lady gave me an ultimatum, "It's the turtles or me." Of course I kept her.
But it was the rabbits that continued to multiply and smell up the house because my daughter kept the cage in her bedroom and the other cage in the family room. Some died, others were given away when the kids got tired of cleaning the cages on a daily basis. And there is one thing you learn with rabbits, their cages must be cleaned daily.
My one son took in a puppy that he thought he could keep quietly in his bedroom. Puppies like babies are anything but quiet.
My youngest daughter had a turtle that ran away when she was cleaning his cage outdoors. Runaway turtle? I doubt the validity of that statement!
Recently I had six cats. One was mine the others belonged to two of my kids who moved back to live with me. Thankfully, my daughter moved out and took two cats and left the oldest cat with me. I am down to three cats now; one is my son's cat, my foster cat and mine
There is no doubt that I love animals but I think that I am tired of being the only one who buys the food and the litter, cleans the two litter boxes (2to 3 times a day), and takes the cats to the veterinary.
When this group of cats dies or leaves - I am going to have to think long and hard if I want to replace them. It just might be nice to sleep in my bed without a cat next to my head, another one lying on my legs, cutting off my circulation. But then the flip side is that at least I am kept warmed and feel loved by those furry cats. Face it...animals love you unconditionally.
The animals in our lives left memorable footprints on our hearts and lots of smells and droppings in our home. We started out with one cat, Pierre, and then a second one, Barney, that we had for a long time. Then came Casey and Archie.
Years later, our friends were moving to California and needed to leave behind their 2-year-old Irish Setter, Rusty. We took Rusty and within the hour, my husband's allergy started. He coughed, he wheezed, his eyes watered, and he had a hard time breathing until he took an allergy pill. We still kept the dog. But five days later, my youngest son, packed a bag and sat on a table, tired and freaked out from having Rusty lie spread eagle on top of him. Rusty went back to his happy owners, and my son unpacked his bags and stayed.
My oldest daughter seemed to be the animal lover. She collected animals like little girls collected Barbie dolls. As a matter of fact, she never had any Barbie dolls. Instead she collected cats, which died or ran away. She had a 20-gallon fish tank, filled with tropical fish. Her younger sister knocked the tank over, and some of the fish died, our cat ate a few, some were stepped on, and three survived. Weeks later, my daughter would find one surviving fish in her desk drawer, swimming around a tiny pool of water in the corner of the drawer. She also owned an ugly iguana that grew bigger and went off to college with her.
We had two boxing turtles, which stunk up our home. My cleaning lady gave me an ultimatum, "It's the turtles or me." Of course I kept her.
But it was the rabbits that continued to multiply and smell up the house because my daughter kept the cage in her bedroom and the other cage in the family room. Some died, others were given away when the kids got tired of cleaning the cages on a daily basis. And there is one thing you learn with rabbits, their cages must be cleaned daily.
My one son took in a puppy that he thought he could keep quietly in his bedroom. Puppies like babies are anything but quiet.
My youngest daughter had a turtle that ran away when she was cleaning his cage outdoors. Runaway turtle? I doubt the validity of that statement!
Recently I had six cats. One was mine the others belonged to two of my kids who moved back to live with me. Thankfully, my daughter moved out and took two cats and left the oldest cat with me. I am down to three cats now; one is my son's cat, my foster cat and mine
There is no doubt that I love animals but I think that I am tired of being the only one who buys the food and the litter, cleans the two litter boxes (2to 3 times a day), and takes the cats to the veterinary.
When this group of cats dies or leaves - I am going to have to think long and hard if I want to replace them. It just might be nice to sleep in my bed without a cat next to my head, another one lying on my legs, cutting off my circulation. But then the flip side is that at least I am kept warmed and feel loved by those furry cats. Face it...animals love you unconditionally.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Pets
Growing up, I always wanted a dog. My dream was to own a St. Bernard. I loved that it was a big dog and it had longhair. I knew that living in Cleveland, Ohio, that if I got lost or stuck out in the snow, my dog would find me and save me. It would also have a keg around it's neck and that would have hot chocolate to warm me. My dog would guide me safely back to my house on 41st Street and Loraine Avenue.
Since we lived in rental apartments and rental homes, we were never allowed to have a dog. Except for the time my brother and I found a black Cocker Spaniel puppy and worked on our father's emotions to let it live with us. I called the dog, Mickey. My brother seemed to have called him Rusty. Whatever, we enjoyed the pet for a few short days, until late one night, my father was hurrying to the bathroom, stepped over the big piece of plywood that kept Mickey in the kitchen, only to plant his foot firmly in Mickey's poop. Mickey was gone the next day after we came home from school. It was a loss that I can remember, fifty years later. But I did name my twin son Michael after a pet that I never had a chance to grow up with. My Michael (Mickey) is still around. Even though he made messes, I never got rid of him.
We were allowed to have some smaller pets that didn't come on four legs though. We had birds, like a canary and parakeets that my mother loved and we tolerated. It is hard to have a pet that you can't pet or hold but that was life with the birds. Candy, the Canary was yellow and sang beautifully and then died. No more canaries. The parakeets could talk because my mother taught them. One parakeet died and the other developed gout and my Dad made me walk into the Vet with the bird in his cage, and walk out with an empty cage. That was heartless on my father's part and a lasting memory for me.
We also had our share of gold fish and turtles. I do remember two different times we were given a fish and a chicken to eat. One of my father's friends caught a big fish in Lake Erie and gave it to him. The fish wasn't dead and my father couldn't kill it. So, he put it into our bathtub where it swam around for the weekend. No baths for the weekend. I was scared to death to even use the bathroom for fear that the fish would jump out of the tub. On that Monday morning, my father took the fish back to Lake Erie and threw it back into the water.
The other animal was the live chicken that our friend, the butcher, brought over to our house and gave it to us for Thanksgiving dinner. Our friend stayed around long enough to kill the chicken in our backyard. My brother and I watched the chicken get his head cut off, and run around our small backyard until it dropped. I don't know who plucked the feathers and I don't care, but I do know that no one ate that chicken for dinner. As far as that went, I never ate eggs for years because eggs came from chickens and I wouldn't eat both for a very long time.
As far as pets...when I grew up and had my own home, the first animal that I intended to buy would be that St. Bernard puppy. But that dream never materialized. I would come to have many kids, many cats, an iguana, goldfish, aquariums filled with exotic fish, big boxed turtles, rabbits, gerbils, guinea pigs, hamsters, hermit crabs and two stray dogs. This story is for another time and another Blog.
Since we lived in rental apartments and rental homes, we were never allowed to have a dog. Except for the time my brother and I found a black Cocker Spaniel puppy and worked on our father's emotions to let it live with us. I called the dog, Mickey. My brother seemed to have called him Rusty. Whatever, we enjoyed the pet for a few short days, until late one night, my father was hurrying to the bathroom, stepped over the big piece of plywood that kept Mickey in the kitchen, only to plant his foot firmly in Mickey's poop. Mickey was gone the next day after we came home from school. It was a loss that I can remember, fifty years later. But I did name my twin son Michael after a pet that I never had a chance to grow up with. My Michael (Mickey) is still around. Even though he made messes, I never got rid of him.
We were allowed to have some smaller pets that didn't come on four legs though. We had birds, like a canary and parakeets that my mother loved and we tolerated. It is hard to have a pet that you can't pet or hold but that was life with the birds. Candy, the Canary was yellow and sang beautifully and then died. No more canaries. The parakeets could talk because my mother taught them. One parakeet died and the other developed gout and my Dad made me walk into the Vet with the bird in his cage, and walk out with an empty cage. That was heartless on my father's part and a lasting memory for me.
We also had our share of gold fish and turtles. I do remember two different times we were given a fish and a chicken to eat. One of my father's friends caught a big fish in Lake Erie and gave it to him. The fish wasn't dead and my father couldn't kill it. So, he put it into our bathtub where it swam around for the weekend. No baths for the weekend. I was scared to death to even use the bathroom for fear that the fish would jump out of the tub. On that Monday morning, my father took the fish back to Lake Erie and threw it back into the water.
The other animal was the live chicken that our friend, the butcher, brought over to our house and gave it to us for Thanksgiving dinner. Our friend stayed around long enough to kill the chicken in our backyard. My brother and I watched the chicken get his head cut off, and run around our small backyard until it dropped. I don't know who plucked the feathers and I don't care, but I do know that no one ate that chicken for dinner. As far as that went, I never ate eggs for years because eggs came from chickens and I wouldn't eat both for a very long time.
As far as pets...when I grew up and had my own home, the first animal that I intended to buy would be that St. Bernard puppy. But that dream never materialized. I would come to have many kids, many cats, an iguana, goldfish, aquariums filled with exotic fish, big boxed turtles, rabbits, gerbils, guinea pigs, hamsters, hermit crabs and two stray dogs. This story is for another time and another Blog.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Saturday Morning Cartoons
Saturday morning and my grandson gets up early, comes into my bedroom, jumps on my bed and plays his DSI. I am awake, reading a book along to some music coming from his DSI. The song is something like, "Just another story..." while he plays his skateboard game. My granddaughter, too, is awake and making a birthday card for a friend. I assume the birthday party will be a sleepover.
I start to think...this is how my grandchildren spend Saturday mornings in 2011. This was a change from when my brother and I would get up and watch Saturday morning cartoons. We watched the cartoons on a small black and white television, all three channels offered something - Tom and Jerry, along with a fuzzy snowy picture as we adjusted the old rabbit ears on top of the TV. Along with good old Tom and Jerry, there was Gene Autry, or Roy Rogers and Dale Evans Saturday morning series, Kukla, Fran and Ollie, Howdy Doody, Flash Gordon, Cisco Kid, Sky King and others. There were more show to watch but my old mind is having its usual senior moment about it.
Then along came my children. We still had a black and white television set. My kids would say we were the only people with a black and white set in our neighborhood. They were right. There were way more cartoons to watch on Saturday mornings, starting with the test pattern before the television stations were on the air. Some of my children would come home from their early morning paper routes, take their place on the couch, the chairs, and on the floor with their younger brothers and sisters, eating a bowl of their favorite cereal ready to watch their favorite shows.
The shows would progress from the 70s to the late 80s for my kids and they would include: Scooby All Stars, Daffy Duck, Dark Wing Duck (my personal favorite...and yes, I would watch the cartoons with them), Fantastic Four, Plastic Man, Popeye, Transformers, Thunder Cats, Smurfs, New Adventures of Mr. T., Looney Tunes' Merrie Melodies, GI Joe, Flintstones, Jeffersons, Super Mario Show, Captain Lou Albano...and a host of others.
Now it is 2011, my grandchildren don't even bother to watch Saturday morning cartoons or watch any children shows. Probably because the cartoons and children shows are on television all the time, every day, and repeated over and over. Besides there are all the other new technical devises that they can occupy themselves with, like the DSI, Game Boy, Wii system, and computer games.
But I still long for the old days when my kids were little. Or maybe I am nostalgic for the old days of the simple, innocent routine when my children were little and under my roof...when we could share breakfast together and watch all those cartoons. I think that might be it but I know that I can't go back in time, except for my memories. So, I now enjoy my grandson on my bed, playing with his DSI, and me, reading my book on Kindle.
I start to think...this is how my grandchildren spend Saturday mornings in 2011. This was a change from when my brother and I would get up and watch Saturday morning cartoons. We watched the cartoons on a small black and white television, all three channels offered something - Tom and Jerry, along with a fuzzy snowy picture as we adjusted the old rabbit ears on top of the TV. Along with good old Tom and Jerry, there was Gene Autry, or Roy Rogers and Dale Evans Saturday morning series, Kukla, Fran and Ollie, Howdy Doody, Flash Gordon, Cisco Kid, Sky King and others. There were more show to watch but my old mind is having its usual senior moment about it.
Then along came my children. We still had a black and white television set. My kids would say we were the only people with a black and white set in our neighborhood. They were right. There were way more cartoons to watch on Saturday mornings, starting with the test pattern before the television stations were on the air. Some of my children would come home from their early morning paper routes, take their place on the couch, the chairs, and on the floor with their younger brothers and sisters, eating a bowl of their favorite cereal ready to watch their favorite shows.
The shows would progress from the 70s to the late 80s for my kids and they would include: Scooby All Stars, Daffy Duck, Dark Wing Duck (my personal favorite...and yes, I would watch the cartoons with them), Fantastic Four, Plastic Man, Popeye, Transformers, Thunder Cats, Smurfs, New Adventures of Mr. T., Looney Tunes' Merrie Melodies, GI Joe, Flintstones, Jeffersons, Super Mario Show, Captain Lou Albano...and a host of others.
Now it is 2011, my grandchildren don't even bother to watch Saturday morning cartoons or watch any children shows. Probably because the cartoons and children shows are on television all the time, every day, and repeated over and over. Besides there are all the other new technical devises that they can occupy themselves with, like the DSI, Game Boy, Wii system, and computer games.
But I still long for the old days when my kids were little. Or maybe I am nostalgic for the old days of the simple, innocent routine when my children were little and under my roof...when we could share breakfast together and watch all those cartoons. I think that might be it but I know that I can't go back in time, except for my memories. So, I now enjoy my grandson on my bed, playing with his DSI, and me, reading my book on Kindle.
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