three hundred sixty four

CARTOON MEDIA

Everyday Wile E. Coyote almost gets the Road Runner. This is how the constitutionally protected forth estate watchdog for the people media fills the news cycle. 

Their communication network can reach to all corners of the world. With their amazing technology, massive studios and highly paid producers and personalities their quality HD broadcasts are second to none. Their signals bounce through satellites, flash through the high speed internet at the speed of light into our smartphones, laptops, iPads and 72 inch flat screen televisions. 

Sadly our so called news has turned into twenty four hour entertainment and propaganda. Substantive events that have the potential to effect our nations future and security are by design selectively ignored. The need to control information is not new, since the first newspaper, telegraph, radio or television broadcast powerful people have tried to control and use this power to manipulate the thoughts and opinions of the masses. 

The information that we do get is superficial and devoid of facts. Debate has been quashed, rude and shallow insults are common and a willful dumbing down of their audience is their longterm goal. Today the average middle school lunch room is having a more substantive conversation. 

Their claim of informing the public is a joke, petty sniping, edited clips and a funny look make careers, division, incitement and name calling are the new normal.

Along came the internet and social media. The early days of user friendly websites and blogs brought a wave of new citizen journalists. Some grew large audiences but most remained small. The currency amongst the early bloggers was truth. Sighting false information or unsupported fact would result in rebuke by the other bloggers and their readers. We wanted the truth because we knew we weren't getting it from most major news outlets. 

Eventually the powers that be saw these uncontrolled voices as a threat. They first tried to ignore, discredit and belittle them. They demonize their motives and finally tried to limit their access to servers, hide them in search results or completely censor them. 

Most of the public did not know about these efforts, some knew by experience but others fully supported their silencing. It has been documented that our government had a hand in these efforts to selectively censor its opponents but it is a story that has had little if any news coverage. J Edgar Hoover made lists, Nixon only thought about using the IRS against his enemies but now government is actually doing it with the IRS, FBI, DOJ and more. Ironically after fifty years only tricky Dick and J Edgar Hoover gets any coverage.

It has been years since I have watched a major network news broadcast. Most cable news commentary programs can rob a viewer of vital IQ points. 

They do not inform or tell the complete story, they tell "a" story. No background, context or follow up question just a snarky comment, selective sound bite or emotional rant. Their audiences have dwindled down to their true believers. Accusing the other side of everything wrong and crediting their side with absolute brilliance and coolness.

I refuse to waste a minute of my time wondering what a Hollywood celebrity thinks, any victim group representative’s opinion and the legal opinion of a random former prosecutor who is probably too dumb to get out of jury duty.

I know I'm older and opinionated but I do know how to research background, context and ask a follow up question. Wanting to know what the truth is is a curse I have to live with. Maybe one day it will become a fad again. 

three hundred sixty three

I'M A VICTIM VOTE FOR ME! 

(OR YOU'RE A BIGOT)

 First of all there is definitely crime, discrimination, prejudice, hatred and abuse. The subjects of these criminal and immoral acts are certainly victims. Law enforcement, management and our legal system are set in place to deal with these offenses but unfortunately many fall through the cracks. 

There are therapists, support groups and spiritual councilors to help the victims of these traumas. My heart goes out to anyone who has experienced crime, cruelty, abuse or unfairness.

A person who has been victimized suffers physical, mental and emotional damage. This damage will effect them through their lives to one degree on another. The question is do they perceive themselves as a person who has been victimized or do they identify as a perpetual victim? 

Most credible therapists will help a person process their traumas and move on to live a happy productive life. This may take many years but ignoring this process leaves them damaged. Without help many get stuck in permanent victim status and live a resentful and fearful life seeking pity, revenge or worse.

Unfortunately there are some so called friends, therapists, support groups, counselors and spiritual leaders who do the opposite and encourage victims to continue to wallow in their victimhood. Instead of pointing out the need to heal and move past their trauma they support their feelings and leave them in a very unhealthy place. In spite of their good intentions they victimize their subjects again. 

A few counselors with their own issues use this control to stoke bitterness and hatred and turn them into super victims. Victims find relief in this type of therapy because it justifies narcissism. They learn to enjoy the power of victim status. They are always morally right, they are not responsible or accountable and forever entitled to sympathy. 

We now have several camps. The victim who earnestly seeks healing, finds good council and works hard to move past their traumas. The earnest victim who is misled by counsel, they may feel better but they remain damaged. And there are many who fully embrace the narcissistic power of being angry perpetual victims. 

Now that I have tip toed through the mine field of saying anything about victims I'll get to the point. 

Today there are political movements using real victims and manufactured victims. Real victims are used as props. They say they care but these victims are more useful if they remain unhealed. They want them angry and encourage them to hate the people they point to as the source for their problems.

There are manufactured victims, these are people or groups who falsely seek the power of victimhood. They use this victim status as a shield or wild card. Any criticism or disagreement is labeled as an attack. Many hide behind actual victims and use them as spokesmen.

An offense is based on how things are perceived not the actual words or acts. Actions and words can be hurtful and should be policed but feelings now determine guilt. No facts are needed just a mood or opinion.

It is a mine field should I smile, say hello, hold a door, offer a seat, give a compliment or have an opinion? Should I just ignore everyone and stay silent? Do I risk using the wrong pronoun and do I have the wrong genitalia? It is a crap shoot that hinges entirely on how we are perceived.

I'm not seeking sympathy I just want clarity. The unwritten rules are ever evolving and applied retroactively. What was correct this morning can by noon be a racial slur. It is like changing all of the speed limits and then issuing tickets for speeding five years ago. 

Victim power has shut down most debate. If feelings and fears override laws, rules and common sense there is no safe place to have them. Hate speech has been redefined as speech that triggers.  

 

This tactic has slowly taken over leadership. A decade or so ago electing someone who identifies as a victim to any leadership post would be out of the question but now it is a virtue and selling point. 

In the nineties I began to notice that things were changing. At that time victims were to be helped not used. A person who came up the hard way moving beyond their troubled childhood, economic hardships, bullying, hatred, prejudice and tragedy to become a wise strong willed and qualified leader was valued. 

Today these success stories are not valued and sometimes criticized. If they commit the sin of encouraging victims to embrace personal responsibility and hard work to move beyond their limitations. They are labeled as mean, heartless, sellouts or worse.

Like everyone I faced an unfair world. I could explore the measuring game of unfairness and I'm certain others had it better or worse but my point is I was never encouraged to lay down and quit. In fact I had a few kicks in the ass and hard consequences for my poor choices. Self-centeredness, laziness, complaining, blaming and demanding attention was still looked at as shameful. I was expected to get up every morning and carry my own weight. 

Sure there were victims in my generation. They needed understanding and help. The council they received was focused on moving toward healing. There were others who embraced their victimhood and dropped out. Generations later this has started to change because all shame is gone. 

Yes I'm complaining but mostly I'm feeling sorry for our kids. What do they look forward to? The religion of global warming, unprotected gun free schools, pandemic nightmare, mind controlling social media, lethal drugs, looming World War III, student debt, gender confusion, unstable job market and an ever widening racial divide and indoctrination. 

At a time when a call for personal responsiblity is needed more then ever there is a deafening silence. Political speeches and debates rarely use any of this language. However the calls to embrace victimhood are loud, clear and angry. Narcissism, entitlement and taking it to the streets is encouraged. 

All I had was a nuclear Cold War, Vietnam, an imminent ice age, drugs, muscle cars and a poor economy, but we did have responsible adults that refused to coddle us. Yes there were things that needed to be addressed but perpetual victimhood was not encouraged. Overcoming hardship and adversity was a virtue as it should be today.

I'm not discouraged, there are some amazing young people who have these same values. They still perceive me as an old guy but they do have a handle on life and reject taking the easy way out. I admire them, they give me hope for our future. I'm middle aged if I live to be 140 so the future is theirs. 

As I leave this world to them a backpacking rule for campsites comes to mind. Always leave it cleaner then when you arrived and make sure the fire is completely extinguished. I feel like we are leaving a smoldering campfire, maybe we could have done a better job. 

three hundred sixty two

 

Salem Ohio

Underground Railroad

This is a house built in 1855 by John Street a Quaker Abolitionist. The house had a windowless basement with a secret entrance through a cabinet by the side entrance. There was originally a tunnel to a house across the street. There was an elaborate system of 14 houses to secretly transport and hide escaped slaves on their journey to freedom. 

John Brown, a radical anti-slavery abolitionist visited and slept there many times. When I was in grade 5 and 6 I walked to school with a boy named Scott who's family owned and restored the house. I spent several nights sleeping over with Scott so I had an opportunity to crawl through the secret passages.

Scotts father was always measuring the house in search of hidden rooms, tunnels and secret entrances. His mother was angry when he broke down a wall of their bedroom and found a narrow hiding place that had since been plastered over.

Salem Ohio has only one Quaker Meeting House that I know of but there are several Friends Churches in the neighboring communities. The high school mascot was Quaker Sam and Salem is still perceived as a Quaker town.

The Salem area has over 30 churches of all denominations. Because of this Salem has a long history of human rights activism. The Ohio Women's Convention met in Salem on April 19, 1850. Salem was Ohio's center for the Woman's Suffrage movement. It was the third in a series of women's rights conventions that began with the Seneca Falls Convention of 1848. Salem was the first of these conventions to be organized on a statewide basis. 

The Salem area abolitionists were much more fanatical about ending slavery. Boycotts, printing and distributing literature and making speeches were just not enough. They took a more active role risking financial loss, prison or worse. The Ku Klux Klan a secret military arm of the Democratic Party not only whipped and hung escaping slaves, they did the same to the abolitionists who helped them. They did this legally and illegally. 

The Democrat controlled congress passed the Fugitive Slave Act in 1850 this further inflamed the abolitionist passion. 

Captain John Brown took a more radical approach to ending slavery. He wanted to arm slaves so they could over throw their slave masters. Harpers Ferry armory located 60 miles from Washington DC was the site of his infamous raid. It was a failed attempt but it sparked the spread of the abolitionist movement.

Edwin Coppock

This is a relative on my mother's side of the family. There were several who served as Quaker preachers. I'm not aware of any practicing Quakers in my family today. Edwin and other family members were influenced by Captain John Brown. 

Edwin's passions for the liberty of his fellow man may have been foolhardy but this passion is not uncommon in the area where I grew up. A few of his brothers who were devout Quaker pacifists felt serving in the Union Army to fight against slavery more important. Edwin was executed for his involvement in the raid on December 16, 1859, he was 24 years old. 

Growing up there I didn't know much about the rich history of Salem. I knew about Veterans, the Underground Railroad and the Quaker abolitionists. Like anything in your hometown you take it for granted. 

On a visit I noticed a group on a guided tour, It was a black history tour but I'm not sure where it originated. Salem now has a tour trolly that offers year round tours. 

 

In my generation there were other unspoken acts of kindness. As a young child my parents bought groceries at the A&P grocery store. They bought what we needed then an extra loaf of bread, butter, eggs and canned goods. On the way home they would drop them off by the junk yard where they stored the old retired trolly cars. It was a spooky place because you could see figures of people in the cars. The windows were dirty so they were just dark silhouettes. 

My parents would not knock or wait, they just left the bag of groceries and drove away. One time I looked back and saw a man all dressed in heavy winter clothes with his face covered come out to pickup the bag. Kids or teenagers never bothered them, they knew to respected their privacy. There was probably more to the story but today there is no one to ask.

I did learn many of these men were WWI combat veterans and many were disfigured nerve and mustard gas victims. I witnessed for many years random people unceremoniously dropping things off to keep them fed and clothed. Once my dad dropped off a carton of cigarets. For some reason these thing were never talked about because it was just something people did. Believe it or not random acts of kindness were not invented by Oprah. 

My dad was a veteran of WWII as were many of the men his age. The American flag was held in reverence, as the flag passed by, everyone stood up, all hats came off, hands over hearts and veterans would salute. 

My generation became indifferent, even disrespectful but I saw the look in those men's eyes as the flag passed by. Many had tears fueled by memories I did not understand. 

I looked at my brother and other young men and women who served in Vietnam. They were there as soldiers to defend the South Vietnamese people from Communism. However their compassion and acts of kindness for the people in the midst of this war was not the image the media wanted to report. Instead they were portrayed as vicious baby killers. 

Oliver Stone rewrote history with his propaganda movies. If he wanted to tell the truth about the mismanagement fine but he attacked the young men and women who served there. Even today combat veterans are portrayed as broken and damaged. Some are but this constant mischaracterization does nothing to heal them.The politicians may have had other goals but the soldiers were there for the people. 

In Vietnam our government betrayed and abandoned the people who helped and befriended us. Another recent disgrace was our reckless withdrawal from Afghanistan, good people died and are still dying for a tough guy victory speech. 

Bold promises were made by our politicians but our young soldiers were the ones ordered to look the people we were betraying in the eyes as we were abandoning them. Listening to these soldiers, I believe this was as traumatic if not more then any of the violence they witnessed. 

World War II American soldier

Korean War American soldier

Vietnam American soldiers

Iraq War American soldier

Afganistan American soldier

These young people fighting thousands of miles from home and families were not motivated by bigotry and hatred. Their self sacrifice for strangers achieved more then any of our Ambassadors, Generals, our Secretary of State or our Presidents. They were in daily direct contact with the people.

Selective outrage, stirring racism, a blind eye to current slavery and a tolerance of the oppression of women throughout the world is also a disgrace. A steady flow of distorted history, emotional arguments and any overpaid so called expert with an opinion. All of these break my heart. 

 

I don't know if it was in the water, influenced by the many churches or we were just idealistic and naive, but we have a sense of duty and honor. Don't get me wrong I don't claim everyone has the conviction of these men and women who put everything on the line, but this is one place where they came from. 

Researching a little of my own history has helped me understand why my heart breaks today. The brave men and women and the people who helped them risked their lives for liberty and freedom. The bull shit slogans the press and politicians throw around today ring hollow in comparison.

In or out of the churches the community conscience  included this basic principle.

John 3:12-13

"My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends."

We got a dose of hard work, responsibility, service, equality and a sense of duty to help the oppressed. Asking for help is difficult and being called a victim is an insult. 

I'm not claiming the people from this area are better then others, but to label them as racist, stupid and unsophisticated shows a lack of any attempt to take an honest look at history. 

I don't always completely follow through with my convictions but at least I have them. Sadly the things I have described will never register with the enlightened.

three hundred sixty one

Quote - Definitely NOT  President Joe Biden

three hundred sixty

SECRET HIDEOUTS

Every boy wants a secret hideout. It's a place for boys to fart, play with matches, tell dirty jokes, practice swear words and spitting, smoke a cigarette smuggled out of a parents pack, look at a Playboy magazine found under an older brother’s mattress or drink a beer stolen from the corner store. 

The first neighborhood secret club I remember was when I was around six or seven. Mrs England our widow next door neighbor lived in a large two story victorian house surrounded with large Rhododendron bushes. Between her house and the bushes created a really cool place to hide. We had a secret place where no-one could see us. 

Little boys pee everywhere so it was naturally a great place to pee. The secret lasted until my mother told me at dinner that Mrs England called and wants us to stop peeing in her bushes, busted.

In spite of this we continued to hide out in her bushes. One day I went to the spot we designated as our peeing area. As I started to pee I heard a tapping noise so I looked up. There she was looking right at me as she shook her finger. Unfortunately the spot we picked to pee was directly under her bay window. That was our last day in that spot.

Another spot was near my great grandparents house. There was an A&P grocery store next door. The parking lot was built on a spoil pile from an old coal mine. We discovered it was easy to dig a cave under the black top. Over the summer it grew larger and more elaborate. It was in a place it would not flood. Most of our cave dwellings lasted until the first hard rain.

Because it was on the edge of the parking lot no one noticed it because no one parked over it. One day an employee drove his new pickup truck to work. To avoid door dings he parked on the edge of the parking lot directly over our cave. By lunch time the blacktop had heated in the hot summer sun and the truck dropped into the hole. 

It made the news paper and every kid in the neighborhood was questioned. No one squealed, an early test of the snitches get stitches rule.

We built huts with straw bails. We built plenty of temporary shelters in the woods because they are really temporary. 

We found a shack deep in the woods. We assumed it was abandoned but it had hundreds of empty white port wine bottles in piles. There were a couple of chairs and random junk. It was a great place to get warm and hang out. 

One Saturday morning we met at the shack to find Al Gallespie the local town drunk passed out on the floor. At first we thought he was dead but he woke up yelling. So much for our secret hideout.

We lived on a wooded lot next to an apple orchard. There was a large Oak tree on the tree line. I'm not sure how it happened but my dad out of the blue offered to build a tree house. This was out of character for my dad I usually had to bug him about letting me build something. 

Looking back I think my dad was tapping into his own childhood fantasy. He grew up during the depression so as a child he had to work. One job he told me about was digging through the shale piles that came out of the Pennsylvania coal mines to find the small lumps of coal they had missed. I know he didn't have the care free childhood I experienced.

He used the excuse that he wanted to make sure it was safe but he sure had a twinkle in his eye and smile on his face. The platform was 35 feet off of the ground. It had a trap door entrance. Two wooden ladders were lashed to the tree trunk to climb the tree safely. By todays standards this would be child endangerment. 

I think because of the danger nobody ever got hurt, Rolf and I slept in it many summer nights. Climbing the ladder was frightening at night so we usually went up at dusk and didn't come down until morning. I spent many hours watching the leaves, birds and clouds.  

I grew older and lost interest in my tree house. I had discovered cars and girls so my hiding place shifted to my car. The ladders had been taken down to store in the shed to get them out of the weather. Years after I moved out, on a visit I noticed what was left of my tree house. I climbed the tree one last time to take it down. 

My father had passed away so the memories of our time working on our treehouse came rushing back. Of all of my secret hideouts this was the best, that includes my cars. 

Tree houses still fascinate me. I could see living in one someday. I have a coffee table book of amazing tree houses from around the world. I turn into a little boy again every time I look through it. 

Wish list...link  link link

three hundred fifty nine

GHOULARDI  

Video link...TURN BLUE-THE SHORT LIFE OF GHOULARDI

I was born and raised in Ohio. I lived on the Ohio side of the West Virginia and Pennsylvania border about 60 miles from Pittsburg and 60 miles from Cleveland. 

In 1963 I was twelve years old. Television was still black and white, there were only five VHF channels and five UHF channels depending on the quality of your antenna. Because of the mountains around Pittsburg most powerful VHF stations were out of Cleveland. Their local news, weather and sports broadcasts made us feel like we were living in Cleveland. Even the radio stations we listen to were out of Cleveland. 

Most television stations shut down their transmitters and signed off after the late news. In 1957 Universal released a collection of 52 cheesy horror movies from the 1930's. The package was called Shock Theater. Across the country local stations created movie hosts to expand their late night broadcasting hours. 

These movies were really bad but new to television audiences. WJW-TV8 tried running them with little success. In 1963 Ernie Anderson was under contract as an ABC booth announcer. Previously he had been fired from other jobs for his rule breaking behavior. He had made fun of a sponsor for being in a barber shop quartet, made on air comments about management and rode his motorcycle through the station and into the managers office.

He already had a successful gig as an announcer but for seventy five more bucks he took on the job. He created a character called Ghoulardi a weirdo beatnik professor. Because of the late hour management ignored what they were doing so they had the freedom to do just about anything. 

I was 11 years old when I first saw Ghoulardi, I had to sneak down the creaky wooden stairs to the living room. We were renting an old two story house while our new house was being built. The Beetles were on Ed Sullivan but to an eleven year old a guy blowing things up on live TV was way cooler.

Within weeks the need to see Ghoulardi at eleven o'clock on Friday night was every kids priority. We slept at anyones house who had cool or unaware parents so we could see what this guy was going to do next. If you missed it you were out of the loop because everyone was talking about it. He was like our cool uncle who said and did things our parents would not approve.

One Friday I had a friend over so we were secretly watching Ghoulardi. My dad walked in, he watched the first few minutes, shook his head and then went to bed. Finally I was free to watch at home. 

The show became a local phenomenon with kids. After Shock Theater he ran the original Buck Rogers series. This took cheesy to a new level. He mocked the movies, edited himself into scenes and spent most of his time opening fan mail and doing bits.

We had our own language, the center chest salute from Buck Rogers and a collective urge to rebel. Ghoulardi was a beatnik, he hated rock and roll, loved big band music and believed in pure freedom. I think I got some of my question authority from him. I unfortunately got my "hold my beer and watch this" attitude from him too. 

He made fun of Parma, a Polish suburb of Cleveland. The city leaders were irritated but the younger residents took it on as an identity. Frank Yankovich Polka Varieties, Polish festivals and pink flamingos, Parma took pride in being a Polish village. 

Frank Yankovich had a Saturday program with fifty blue collar polka dancers. Live music, dancing and a lot of off camera drinking. When the red camera light came on they all crashed into each other to get in the camera frame. I watched it just for that. 

Today if I notice a guy wearing white socks I laugh to myself, that was a Ghoulardi inside Parma joke from over fifty years ago. In high school I went to Parma for a high school basketball tournament, the whole school was wearing white socks as a symbol of pride and solidarity. 

The Parma Mayor and a few Councilmen claimed the city was offended but the average Parma citizen embraced the joke and ran with it. Parma Place was an ongoing spoof based on Payton Place with a Polish twist and a Polish western called The Kielbasa Kid, both written by the producer Charles Schodowski.

Today any hint of ethnic humor is frowned on. Sure a few got their feathers ruffled but we knew the difference between a joke and a real insult. People still know the difference but being the victim is the new way of demanding attention. Fortunately most spoiled children grow out of this.

These were the days of Pollock jokes. His were focused on silly habits,  unusual customs and their fashion sense but never about their hygiene, morals or intelligence. Todays humor is mean, saying someone is ugly, stupid and immoral is just a cover for hurtful personal insults. I think Pollock jokes needed to go away, they got highjacked and became mean spirited cruel and degrading insults. 

Ghoulardi reached out into the community. They raised a quarter of a million dollars for kids who needed operations, families in crisis and other local causes. They played other stations, news papers, schools, city officials, police, firemen and social clubs. Rumors that alcohol was occasionally consumed led them to have an official team bus equipped with a sober driver.

The city embraced his antics but management tolerated it because of the 27 share rating, the network Tonight Show only had a 7. They tried to rein him in but he owned the city. 

The Ghoulardi show was only on the air for three and a half years before Ernie got bored and got his break in Hollywood. Ernie’s former partner Tim Conway cleared the way to get him very lucrative voice over work. Ernie was finally using his real gift, his voice. 

The show was handed over to Houlihan and Big Chuck, then Big Chuck and Little John and then a failed attempt to remake the Ghoulardi show by his son. Eventually network programing took over, it was the end of an era.

Drew Carry who is from Cleveland used the local humor in his popular Drew Carry Show. If you weren't from the Cleveland area you didn't get some of his jokes. From the Ghoulardi shirt, Cleveland Browns and Indians inside jokes, cracks about Pittsburg, foods, drinking styles and the backyard pool table all were things you only see in Cleveland.

Like any home town there are traditions, inside jokes, ethnic influences  and local personalities. Comedians and media regularly use Cleveland as a punch line and the brunt of jokes, most of then are mean spirited insults. I take great pride in being from the Cleveland area because I know the character of the people.

Cleveland is a diverse community with a cross section of America. The rich cultures, community traditions and endless loyalty to three average sports franchises. The Ghoulardi phenomenon was as much a product of the city as it was an influence. Ghoulardi in all of his weirdness understood and revered Cleveland.

Reading about and remembering my years with Ghoulardi made me think about how much I was effected. I also wonder how much he revealed that was already there.

My work ethic, sense of irreverent humor, my need to question authority and a sense of duty to keep my promises and help people came from somewhere. Under the surface the Ghoulardi family had Midwest values with a coating of crazy. We all got a dose from simply identifying with the Cleveland community.

As children we were raised on Captain Penny and Barnaby watching Popeye cartoons, the Three Stooges and Little Rascals. As we entered adolescence Ghoulardi was way cooler but he still understood he was influencing kids. 

Under all of the outrageousness Ernie Anderson had a moral compass. No he wasn't a wise teacher or inspiring leader he was a grown man having fun. As a kid it gave me hope that growing up was not as boring as I thought it would be. The world needs a Tyler Durden, Big Lebowski and Ghoulardi to make life interesting. 

The sense of community we had in the 60s and 70s crossed all ethnic, racial and economic lines we were all Americans and we were from Cleveland. I'm hoping we can get back to again feeling like a family, weird cool uncles and all.

TURN BLUE!

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