Month: October 2010

I Had Cereal for Breakfast

I confused their daughters, Carrie Fisher and Jamie Lee Curtis.


Fisher – father and daughter

I always get annoyed with people who don’t read blogs who complain about blogs collectively, saying something like “No one cares what somebody had for breakfast.” The vast majority of blogs that I’ve looked at don’t deal with such minutiae.

That said, this will be one of THOSE posts.

First off, my daughter, my wife, and I have all been in some state of unwellness for the last couple of weeks. I stayed home with my sick daughter last Tuesday. I stayed home myself on Monday. My wife took off a couple of afternoons last week; she would have taken off the whole days except she couldn’t get a substitute earlier. Then she went to the urgent care place on Saturday, fearing she had bronchitis since she’s had it before. The diagnosis: a bad cold; the doctor said that he’s seen colds, which usually run their course in 3-5 days take twice, or even thrice as long this season.

Sunday, went to a GREAT play, 33 Variations, which I wrote about, briefly, HERE; if nothing else, play the music links I provided. But I was almost too tired to go.


Curtis – father and daughter

I think my illness and/or allergies, and the fatigue it generated, actually messed up my thinking process. When I heard that Eddie Fisher died, I somehow confused him with Tony Curtis. Or more properly, I confused their daughters, Carrie Fisher and Jamie Lee Curtis, both actresses in many films I’ve seen. It didn’t help that I saw Jamie Lee Curtis interviewed on the same CBS Sunday Morning episode that they announced Eddie Fisher’s death, and Jamie Lee talked about the great relationship she now had with her father. Then Tony Curtis DID die that very week; as a kid, I knew him better as the inspiration for Stony Curtis on The Flinstones cartoon, but I eventually saw him in Some Like It Hot (great), The Defiant Ones (pretty good-Oscar nominated), and Spartacus (not so good).

A couple of interesting points from his obit:
In 1987, Curtis started the Emanuel Foundation for Hungarian Culture in honor of his father. The organization has since donated funds to help refurbish Budapest’s Dohany Synagogue, the largest in Europe.
In 2003, Curtis shot two commercials in Budapest, which Hungary hoped would help rebrand it as a center of spa and “wellness” tourism, ditching the traditional image of paprika and gypsy music.

The deaths of Eddie Fisher and Tony Curtis will always be linked in my mind.

Well, I’m STILL tired, so that’s it for now.

L is for Loving Day

As late as 1987, a full 20 years after the Loving v. Virginia ruling, only 48% of Americans said it was acceptable for blacks and whites to date. That number has since jumped to 83%, according to the Pew Research Center.

I can’t believe I missed it. OK, until I read about it in TIME magazine, I’d never even heard of it, though it’s been going on for a half dozen years. There’s a group that has called for Loving Day Celebrations around June 12th each year “to fight racial prejudice through education and to build multicultural community.”

The celebration is named for Mildred Jeter and Richard Loving, who had the audacity to fall in love with each other. Unable to get married legally in their native Virginia – he was white, she was black – they got hitched in Washington, DC and “established their marital abode in Caroline County”, Virginia.

Ultimately, on “January 6, 1959, the Lovings pleaded guilty to the charge” stemming from their interracial marriage, “and were sentenced to one year in jail; however, the trial judge suspended the sentence for a period of 25 years on the condition that the Lovings leave the State and not return to Virginia together for 25 years. He stated in an opinion that:

“‘Almighty God created the races white, black, yellow, malay and red, and he placed them on separate continents. And but for the interference with his arrangement, there would be no cause for such marriages. The fact that he separated the races shows that he did not intend for the races to mix.'”

The Lovings moved to DC, and in 1963, took legal action against the state of Virginia. Meanwhile, Mildred Loving also wrote to US Attorney General Robert Kennedy for assistance, and he referred the Lovings to an ACLU lawyer who took the case pro bono. The Lovings lost at every court, with the primary reasoning being that “because its miscegenation statutes punish equally both the white and the Negro participants in an interracial marriage, these statutes, despite their reliance on racial classifications, do not constitute an invidious discrimination based upon race.”

However, their case made it to the US Supreme Court, and on June 12, 1967, the Supreme Court unanimously ruled, in Loving v. Virginia, that the anti-miscegenation laws of Virginia and 15 other states were unconstitutional. Chief Justice Earl Warren, writing for the Court, concluded:

These statutes also deprive the Lovings of liberty without due process of law in violation of the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment. The freedom to marry has long been recognized as one of the vital personal rights essential to the orderly pursuit of happiness by free men.

Marriage is one of the “basic civil rights of man,” fundamental to our very existence and survival. To deny this fundamental freedom on so unsupportable a basis as the racial classifications embodied in these statutes, classifications so directly subversive of the principle of equality at the heart of the Fourteenth Amendment is surely to deprive all the State’s citizens of liberty without due process of law. The Fourteenth Amendment requires that the freedom of choice to marry not be restricted by invidious racial discriminations. Under our Constitution, the freedom to marry, or not marry, a person of another race resides with the individual and cannot be infringed by the State.

These convictions must be reversed.

Interestingly, the polling I’ve seen suggests that at the time of the ruling, less than 30% of Americans favored mixed marriages. From TIME:

As late as 1987, a full 20 years after the case, only 48% of Americans said it was acceptable for blacks and whites to date. That number has since jumped to 83%, according to the Pew Research Center. In 2010, the center estimated that 1 in 7 new marriages in the U.S. is now an interracial coupling. In 1961, the year Obama’s parents married, only 1 in 1,000 marriages included a black person and a white person; today, it’s 1 in 60.

In statistics for 2008, 14.6 percent of all marriages were between spouses of different races.

In 2010, there is a Republican running for Congress, Jim Russell, who wrote in 2001, “In the midst of this onslaught against our youth, parents need to be reminded that they have a natural obligation, as essential as providing food and shelter, to instill in their children an acceptance of appropriate ethnic boundaries for socialization and for marriage.” I wrote about him extensively here, and he is hardly alone. So I guess the Loving Day folks still have much work to do.
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Pete Seeger – All Mixed Up

ABC Wednesday – Round 7

Tagged, with a twist

When I was about 16, I was among a group of people somehow recruited to sing at a retirement dinner for some minister named Larry something-or-other who I barely knew, if at all.


LisaF at peripheral perceptions tagged me a couple of weeks ago. It’s a short meme, and I’ve got a bad cold, so this matches up well.

If you could have one superpower what would it be?

I think I’ve answered this before with the power to transport myself, a la Samantha Stevens in Bewitched. But I think I’ve changed my mind to flying at superspeed. Even going fast, I’d want the experience of moving. Not an apt comparison, but sometimes when I’m riding my bike downhill into Corporate Woods, I like to feel the wind in my hair – if I had hair and if I weren’t wearing a helmet.

Who is your style icon?

Jughead Jones of the Archie Comic strip. Actually, I have no icon. But I DO have a mantra. Form over function – never! (Unless required by the situation, such as wearing a tie to certain events.) If it looks good but feels awful, it generally isn’t worth it. I was thinking about this when I came across a post on ABC Wednesday about kinky boots.

What is your favorite quote?

“If you don’t know where you are going, you might wind up someplace else.” – Yogi Berra. Makes sense to me. I think I’ve experienced this at some points in my life. And you end up like David Byrne of the Talking Heads, saying And you may ask yourself, well, How did I get here?

What is the best compliment you ever received?

My wife said – in response to me helping someone who needed help when no one else was assisting – “You’re a good man, Roger Green.” Which reminded me of You’re a good man, Charlie Brown – same scansion and everything – but that’s OK.

And here’s a total sidebar:
When I was about 16, I was among a group of people somehow recruited to sing at a retirement dinner for some minister named Larry something-or-other who I barely knew, if at all. We never actually had a rehearsal together; I was just given these lyrics to memorize, swiped from the title song of the musical You’re a good man, Charlie Brown.

You’re a good man, Larry U
You’re the kind of reminder we need
You have humility, nobility, and a sense of duty
That is very rare indeed.

You’re a good man, Larry U
And we know you will go very far
Yes it’s hard to believe
Almost frightening to conceive
What a good man you are.

You are kind to all parishioners
And every little child
With a heart of gold
You believe what you’re told
Even if it is a little wild

You bravely face the Presbytery controversy
So they say
Your thought-provoking sermons
Have us thinking, every minute, every hour, every day.

I have NO idea what the heck the “Presbytery controversy” was. The kicker is that I got quite sick that Friday night and never DID sing the thing. Yet I have these 40-year-old lyrics that were obviously still buried in my brain.

What playlist/CD is in your CD player/playing right now?

It’s October so it’s heavy with October birthdays: Paul Simon (solo), Sting (solo), Tom Petty (solo and with the Heartbreakers, Mudcrutch, and Traveling Wilburys), John Lennon (solo and with The Beatles), plus whatever strikes my fancy.

Are you a night owl or morning person?

I used to be a night owl, but getting married, and especially since having the child, I’ve been forced to the a.m. side, unfortunately.

Do you prefer dogs or cats?

I’ve only had one dog when I was a kid, that bit me, which was OK BY MY PARENTS, but not with me. Then he (Lucky Stubbs, an Alaskan husky) bit the minister’s daughter, and he was given to a local farmer. I used to ride my bike down a dead-end street when I was a teenager, which would be a magnet for barking dogs, several of them at a time. So I was wary of dogs. I can think of two – one being a golden retriever (?) named Randle J. Dog who I actually loved.
And my daughter is VERY wary of dogs.

Whereas we had a lot of cats as a kid. My grandmother had several black cats in succession, all called Lucky. But I’ve had no pets since the mid-1980s. But I’d say cats.

What is the meaning behind your blog name?

There is, and was, these radio guys named John Gambling, three generation’s worth, and the moniker was/is Rambling with Gambling. Also, my name is Roger, so it created an almost alliteration, and I’m inclined to ramble about whatever strikes my fancy.

Hey, you who haven’t blogged in the last few months: consider yourself tagged.

30-Day Challenge: Day 25-One Of Your Most Prized Possessions

The Ringo signature has all but disappeared. The John and Paul signatures are quite faint. They all were done in ballpoint pen, it seems. Only George’s signature is clearly visible.


I have developed, over the years, almost an antipathy for “prized possessions”, if by that one means something of great monetary value. This is not a function of getting all Mother Teresa, but rather of pragmatism. When you have STUFF, and especially if it’s expensive STUFF, it starts to own you as much as you own it. Someone once told me that the two happiest days of a boat owner’s life is the day he buys it and the day he sells it.

I remember being appalled at hearing about someone buying a painting for $100 million for his private collection. If you have something that goes for nine figures, you have to have security, insurance et al worthy of the piece in case it gets stolen or damaged.

Even, at a much smaller scale, I started tiring of working in the comic book store dealing with customers who were more concerned about an issue’s potential worth, rather than its written or artistic value.

So anyway, I have a copy of Abbey Road signed by all four of the Beatles. Perhaps. Certainly, the person who gave it to me back in the mid-1980s believed it to be so. Funny story about how he gave it to me, actually.

My LP records were and are organized in alphabetical order. The pop albums are alpha by artist, pop being anything not classical. And my classical albums were ordered by the composer. For Christmas one year, I got a cryptic card telling me that I should look in my classic albums for some Fab item, clearly a Beatles reference. Sure enough, between my Bach and Beethoven was the album with four signatures.

As you can see (or more correctly cannot see), the Ringo signature has all but disappeared. The John and Paul signatures are quite faint. They all were done in ballpoint pen, it seems. Only George’s signature is clearly visible, made with some sort of marker.

The other issue is that Beatles’ roadies were notorious for signing Beatles’ names and passing them off as their bosses’. The album is from the UK, was acquired in the UK by means I was not privy to. For all I know, it’s the real deal. Or maybe it’s not. I have an odd comfort not knowing for sure.

Is That Racist QUESTION

The bar in the Holiday Inn outside Fenway Park that systematically failed to serve me on Flag Day, 1991, even as others got drinks – THAT I’m sure was racism.


So here’s the scenario: a woman (white) goes into a Muslim market, where she is given the cold shoulder until she asks for some halal products. Then people are quite friendly. And the woman says later, “It seems that racism exists everywhere.” I give an understanding nod, even as I’m thinking to myself, “Is that really racist behavior?” Or is it the action of a group of people who are merely suspicious of strangers, of someone new (and, to be sure, different)?

There are plenty of times I’ve been in that situation: unfamiliar churches, different neighborhoods, stores. Sometimes I’ve gotten less than desirable outcomes, but I didn’t blame them all on racism. (The bar in the Holiday Inn outside Fenway Park that had systematically failed to serve me on Flag Day, 1991, even as others got drinks – THAT I’m sure was racism.)

Another white female friend of mine says she gets a distant vibe from a local convenience store where most of the workers and virtually all the customers are black. And she was quite angry about it. She claims not to have a racist bone in her body, and perhaps that’s true.

It occurs to me that most of us profile, in one form or another. If I were out at 1:30 a.m., a single young adult walking by would not worry me, but a group, no matter the race or gender, might make me nervous.

Back in the days of the segregated South in the United States, if a white person walked into a black establishment, one might reasonably worry that it might mean trouble. Muslims had lived peacefully in the US for years, even after 9/11, but it is only recently that many of them have said that, for the first time, they felt afraid in America; maybe it’s the same fear that made them wary of the stranger.

But what do YOU think?

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