When I Was Your Age…

“When I was your age…” No, I’m not going to say I had to walk 2 miles in the snow to go to school. I’m not sure if my parents ever used that one on us, but my father used to tell us, when we wanted to buy a toy, that he made his own toy out of a potato and two toothpicks: voilà, an airplane.1

No, I’m talking about the radio. When I was your age, really when I was in high school there was only AM radio. (Reality check – FM radio did exist, but I didn’t know that. Second reality check – I probably did know that FM radio existed, but never drove in a car that had anything but AM radio. There, I approached something like an objective reality.)2

Back to my meaningless reminiscence: There were three radio stations we listened to in high school:

WQAM – Pop music preferred by jocks, juicers, and Key Club members who weren’t listening to Pat Boone on 8 track.

WSRF – Rock music preferred by surfers, heads (me), freaks (me), and assorted malcontents (me). If you didn’t dress out and sat on the log in P.E. you listed to WSRF.

WRBD – Rockin’ Big Daddy! R&B, soul, and a little blues. Preferred by black kids and heads who were really smoking too much3. I liked to turn it on and drive by the station on Rock Island Road and hear the radio get louder without touching the volume.

Then one Sunday hitching to Greynold’s Park4 I heard WBUS-FM. It was so cool. They played music you never heard on AM. Plus they had an eponymous theme song, no extra charge.

Do high school kids even listen to the radio anymore?


NOTES:
1 One of the lies my parents did tell us when we were real little kids and were getting out of hand was that they were running away. We’d be all “No mommy! No daddy!” and they would go downstairs and hide. We finally figured out what they were doing and just laughed when they ‘ran away.’

2 You really can’t trust my memory. I tend to exaggerate and get the details wrong, just ask my friend, Jean. She can give you numerous examples, but she didn’t go to high school with me so you’ll have to ask my friend Jerry if you don’t believe this. He did most of the driving. (In 10th grade anyway… I didn’t even trust my driving in 10th grade. I don’t think I even trusted my own driving until I hit my 40’s. Pretty soon I won’t trust it again.)

3 This is a not-so-subtle drug reference. I do not advocate or condone the use of illegal or illicit drugs. Really, not even pot.

4 The part that is east of Biscayne Blvd. There was a Greynold’s Park Love-in reunion not too long ago. I didn’t go. Time has not treated my generation well. Really, I went to a Led Zeppelin tribute band concert recently and I saw it with my own eyes.

This Position

I wasn’t sure I needed soy sauce with my mixed soup, but I knew I needed the fortune cookie. It isn’t our position, but our disposition that makes us happy. In unison the Eight Immortals cross the sea and reveal their power: In Bed!

Sima Qian records that the proper position was supine, but that was before the Li Ling affair. Many centuries later Sai Zhen Zhu advocated the missionary position. A good omen was obtained when calling for a cab at 888-8888.

But true happiness was not yet achieved.

Commitment

A few years ago I attended a 12 Step meeting. The topic was commitment. I was kinda daydreaming, then “John” started sharing. Since he was young and cute I paid attention. His words have been an inspiration to me ever since.

John’s contention was that everyone should have a commitment to a TV show. The commitment should be complete and it was not right to say that season 2 isn’t as good as season one so I’m not watching anymore. He felt that the commitment was important; his show was Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Although I wasn’t able to make a commitment to a TV show then (damn you remote control!) I have held this as an ideal. Friends have tried to help me with my fear of commitment, suggesting Prison Break or Survivor for example, but I struggled for years: two seasons of Queer as Folk, giving up on ER (with occasional visits to see Goran Visnjic), not truly committed to Big Bang Theory.

Now, I feel like maybe, just maybe, I have a true commitment to Breaking Bad. I keep waiting for Walt to jump the shark, but so far so good.

Wangaholics Anonymous

Wangaholics Anonymous is a fellowship of cranky-ass ‘hos and bitches who seem to be able to spread misery at home, at the office, in the store, or on the street.

The only requirement for membership is a nasty disposition and the inability to do anything about it. There are no dues or fees for W.A. membership; we are too damn busy buying barbeque on sale or going to McDonald’s.

W.A. is does not care about your sect, denomination, politics, organization or institution; we treat everybody like dirt, even if it can get us fired.

Our primary purpose is to make your ass cry like a little girl, then go home and watch QVC.

The East is Read!

The order was received quickly: Shrimp with lobster sauce and a pint of mixed soup. The reason for the meal was the necessity to read my fortune. Some may believe in the Lotto or Powerball as the Alpha and Omega, but they haven’t had Tsin Long’s Mango-Flavored Fortune Cookies with baked-in Vitamin B-12. (Nor had they just watched two hours of Breaking Bad.)

A magnificent message from the gateway to all wisdom: A man without aim is like a clock without hands, as useless if it turns as if it stands. The divine oracle shouts, “In Bed!” and the interpretation game begins.

Fa Kew of Zhejiang was convinced it meant that this was a good time to buy CitiGroup at 98 cents a share. But he was cautioned by Jun Kain who said it was a gambit by the Gang of Four to bring back the Cultural Revolution (only with better product placement). Therefore Jun Kain said Fa Kew!, Fa Kew.

Finally Li Jung settled it. He returned the clock to the Friendship Store and bought a digital. This brought exceedingly good luck as it was defective and the numbers always shone 88:88. 

Moral of the story: Fa Kew, Fak Mi.... It all turns to dust in the end.

Birch State Park

I suppose Birch State Park has been a presence in my life since 1963 when we moved to South Florida. I’ve certainly had my share of family picnics, company picnics, Boy Scout campouts, and even been to a wedding there. There were huge stands of Australian Pine trees there through all of that.

I remember seeing the shallow root systems turned sideways after so many of the trees were knocked over by Hurricane Cleo in 1964. Probably first saw them from the tourist train that ran through the park. We (my brothers and sisters and I) loved riding on that train. I really didn’t understand how powerful a hurricane could be, even after seeing those trees knocked over. I just assumed that the trees had weak root systems (which I think they did – real shallow). (Seeing South Dade after Hurricane Andrew was the first time I understood how strong the storms were; Hurricane Wilma was the first time I was scared during storm.)

In the Scouts we I got to know a different part of the Australian Pine, their cones. Those things were always underfoot, under the tent, under a sleeping bag – you get the idea. And even for someone who hadn’t worn shoes for a couple of years (except for school, church, and visits to grandma’s) those things hurt when you stepped on them.

“They” (the State Park System I guess) started cutting down the Australian Pines a couple of years ago because, as the (very hot – so hot he could be in a video – so hot he made Tom of Finland park rangers look dull and boring – so hot that it was all I could do not to salivate as I saw him handling a pet snake today) park ranger explained they are “non-native and invasive.” (Yeah, that park ranger is hotter than a Chip Daniels video.)

I last saw the park a few years ago, after the chopping, but before a canopy grew back. Didn’t look too good. It looked like a bad haircut at the Academy Awards.

I’m happy to report, especially to my park aficionado friend in Wellesley that it didn’t look too bad today. I hiked my ass around that park and around memory lane today. The park is looking good. I saw lots of Gumbo Limbo there today and a few Silver Buttonwood and probably quite a few native and non-invasive species that I don’t recognize.

It was a beautiful day in Birch State Park.

http://www.floridastateparks.org/hughtaylorbirch/

Today's fortune Cookie

It came along with a quart of mixed won-ton egg-drop soup and two naughty DVDs from Tropix:

Courage is the mastery of fear - not the absence of fear. Then, the two magic words must be attached: In Bed!

Wu Tang, many years ago interpreted this to mean that during the second three months of using Zoloft, a man will be able to maintain an erection, but not release. Thus he will bring great pleasure to his partner, but will wind up having to 打猴子, (literally, spank the monkey) in order to please himself.

Jun Lo, on the other hand said that spanking the monkey, in and of itself brought great courage to the one who is destined to drive the maiden aunt home, especially when mixed with two ounces of gin.