PUSH THE BUTTON

PUSH THE BUTTON

In my home I have a favorite button. It is located on the television remote control gizmo and is just above the word MUTE. Whenever the screen fades to commercials, I hit the MUTE. It is not that I don't like car commercials, but I cannot listen to the movie ads. You know, those "fun" ads where people are getting shot down, sliced up or blown apart.

We live in a world of buttons, most of which we take for granted. Not so -- our four-year-old great-grandson who, on his weekly visits, will push every button or switch within reach. We find that after he leaves, the telephone doesn't work -- he found the on-off switch, and our apartment is ablaze with light!

In my teenage world, the most important button was on our family radio. We heard the nightly news from Walter Winchell, "Hello Mr. and Mrs. America and all the ships at sea," was his introduction. More important were the comedy hours with Fibber Magee & Molly, Milton Berle, Jack Benny, Eddie Cantor and many more. My father didn't have to turn off the set during commercials because there weren't the mayhem and obscenities that we hear today.

My world of yesteryear was a different world, and a nicer world in many respects. It was a quieter world without the "whips, whistles and balloons" that we think we need today. Let me suggest, dear reader, that you spend a part of each day with your buttons on MUTE. You'll appreiate the sound of quietness that surrounds you.

More, later.

2 X 3 = 6

2 x 3 = 6

Our family togetherness sprang into action last week when our local family members : Dear Wife, children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren gathered to celebrate my natal day. Family togetherness has been a hallmark to us and here's a story about it.

Early one spring my mother received the devastating news that her sister Ella had tuberculosis and needed to spend a year in a fresh-air sanatorium, in the mountains of Pennsylvania. What could be done about her three children and a husband?

My parents had the answer to that question. At the end of the school year, without hesitation, my mother boarded a train for Pittsburgh and returned home with Margaret (11), Sarah (8),
and Jack (5), to match yours truly (6) and my sister Jane (4). Brother John was born the following spring. It was a very tight ship in a small, three-bedroom house.

One humorous event, among many, is etched in my memory. That summer the area celebrated the opening of the Delaware River Bridge, the first bridge connecting the city of Camden (NJ) with the city of Philadelphia (PA). The first day was given over to a pedestrian walkover, and my brave mother took us five, with a baby carriage, for the walk. Halfway over the bridge, Margaret made the announcement that, "I've got to GO, and SOON!" What's a mother to do, surrounded by thousands of walkers? We gathered to one side, on a grating, and surrounded Margaret while she added to the height of the river water below!!

You know, dear readers, that the year of bonding between us cousins lasted for a lifetime. Four of the six are gone but, never forgotten.

More, later.

THE MAN ON THE MOON

THE MAN ON THE MOON

"THAT'S ONE SMALL STEP FOR MAN AND ONE GIANT LEAP FOR MANKIND." With these words, Astronaut Neil Armstrong stepped onto the surface of the moon. It was July 20, 1969, and the culmination of a national desire, first expressed by President John F. Kennedy, to put a man on the moon by 1970. This July marks the 40th anniversary of this great event, completely overshadowing the fact that July 20th is my birthday.

However, dear reader, this does not bother me, as I was "into space" long before the NASA program. At eight years of age I was a devoted follower of the comic strip BUCK ROGERS AND THE 25th CENTURY!! I faithfully followed BUCK, his companion, WILMA DEERING and his scientist-friend, DR. HUER, as they explored the planets in their rocket ships, wearing their flying belts and disintegrating ray guns, ever on the watch for that space pirate, KILLER KANE.
My friends and I had our own ray guns as we played "space" on our porch glider space-ship.

BUCK became even more interesting with a four-days-a-week radio show that brought the sounds of space right into our living room! Writer J.H Dille and artist Dale Calkins had us hooked on space travel with their far-sighted writing.

So...congratulations to latecomer NASA from a BUCK ROGERS fan.

More, later.

P.S. An extensive BUCK ROGERS COLLECTION is housed on the campus of Miami University, In Oxford, Ohio.

STEER CLEAR OF OLDSTERS

STEER CLEAR OF OLDSTERS

A recent seniors (as in old) magazine offered refresher driving lessons to oldsters. Unfortunately the out-dated ad kept me from signing on. However, it was license renewal time for me, and I expected to have some DMV testing, because of my age.

On THE day, I went to the license bureau prepped for an exam. My exam consisted of, "What colors do you see on the glass?" "O.K., step over here and get your new license (good for eight years)." I felt cheated and not a little angry. I knew that I should have been road-tested because, as others my age, we face "special challenges" on the highway -- challenges like depth -perception, space-judgment and reaction-time.

One day Dear Wife and I were returning to the our Village garage when we spotted the SLOW sign at the entrance wearing a new look --that of being tilted about sixty degrees. I suspect that one of the Village retirees had a "space-judgment" problem (no fatalities reported)!!

So. . .you younger drivers, when you see me or others my age on the highway, steer clear of us because, we could be admiring the flora on the roadside, instead of keeping our eyes on the road.

More later.

P.S. FOREWARNED IS FOREARMED: If you have an auto accident, the insurance company's first question may be, "Were you talking on your cell phone?"

OUR FLAG WAS STILL THERE

OUR FLAG WAS STILL THERE

" It's the house flying the flag," were my instructions to first-time visitors. As I was the only one on the block doing so, it was an obvious landmark.

As a young boy, I was given the job of decorating the outside of our home with flags and bunting. Perhaps that is what gave me the love I have for the flag, and instilled in me my patriotic spirit. I am a patriot and I love the Fourth of July.

On one Fourth, when I was about ten years old, I decided to become a small-business person. With a business loan of thirty-five cents (from Mom), I bought a block of ice and paper cups, and convinced her to make a syrup of our homemade rootbeer. I put it all in my decorated wagon, along with an ice scraper, and headed for the park to sell snowballs for five cents each. I want you to know that I was able to repay my loan each time from my profits. Only in America!

But, I digress. I would like you, dear readers, to fly the flag on the Fourth. On a recent bus ride, I counted only 6 flags flying out of 35 homes. Discouraging. Do your part to increase that percentage, won't you?

More later

P.S. On your next visit to Baltimore, Maryland, enjoy a stop at Fort McHenry, the site that inspired Frances Scott Key to compose The Star-Spangled Banner, our national anthem.