It's in the Genes..

I don't hate shopping. I hate to GO shopping. I'm ok once I am actually in the store. I just don't like the getting in the car, driving to the store, parking...you know. But I needed new jeans and no matter what angle I looked at the half dozen or so pair I have, none were really nice enough for a "smart casual" outing. So, I am at the store, exploring the inventory and a young lady approaches and asks if she can help me find something.
"I'm looking for jeans"
"Okay...we have Slim Fit, Boot Cut, Low-rise, High Rise, Five-Pocket, Regular fit or Relaxed fit. "
"What's the difference between Regular and Relaxed?"
"I'm not sure"
"Well, if you point me towards the jeans..I will look around and figure it out."
I wandered around through the stacks of jeans, longing for the days when my Mom would take us to Lobells to get...well, Jeans. Not low-rise or boot cut. Jeans. And she always picked out a package of the Denim Iron-on patches that would extend the life of the jeans well into my teen years. She knew that we were only a few days away from the first skinned knee incident that for some reason would easily tear through one of the strongest fabrics ever invented.

I tried on a pair of Regular fit jeans in my normal size...Whew!. They must have been cut smaller. Too tight EVERYWHERE.  I walked out of the fitting room and back to the stacks of jeans.
The young salesperson was back.
"Find everything ok?"
"I guess," I lied. Then I grabbed a pair of RELAXED FIT in the next larger size..this was unexplored terrain for me. Still tight.
"How are those relaxed fit?" She asked, sweetly.
"Do you have anything a little more relaxed?....Like maybe Perry Como jeans?"
"I never heard of Terry Como" she answered.
 So, I grabbed the next larger pair and went again into the dressing room. As I pulled on the jeans I avoided looking into the full-length mirror, because the only one looking back at me was my Father.
"Well, Pop....I've arrived. Move over, it's my turn."

At the register, my wife picked up the price tag and wide-eyed said: "THAT'S what you're paying for these jeans?"
"They're designer," I blurted out.
"Yeah? Who?
"Hindenburg" I growled...."Let's go"

Relaxed Fit, My Ass.
Exactly.

The Penguin and the Hucklebuck

It's funny, the things you remember. Especially when you begin to retrieve those memories when you have reached your 60s. St.Pius X grade school opened in Plainview, NY on Washington Avenue , brand new, in 1959. I remember there was a cement cornerstone marking the date just to the left of the main entrance.Every Sunday the Churchgoers could watch and mark the progress of the new school which was of a new, progressive design that featured a large, circular auditorium.

Enrollment in the school was initially low, so the parish used an entire wing of the building as a convent for the dozen or so Sisters of Mercy who made up the majority of the teaching staff.  The school opened with 5th grade as the highest, and that is the level at which I entered. My class would continue each year, ending with 8th grade.

At first, we remained in the same classroom for the entire day, which the Sisters broke up into subject periods of an hour or so, I guess. At the time, Music and Art were very low on the curriculum, sometimes months would go by without a class in either subject. Some of the Sisters were either reluctant or unable to address either of these subjects, so a different Nun with a talent for one or the other would take over the class for that block of teaching.

When the time came for music instruction, Sister Mary Consuelo would take over our class and teach us songs or in a very rare event, tackle some rudimentary music theory. She was always in charge of the annual Christmas pageant in which all of the students in the school played a part. Willing or not.She had the voice of an angel and could play the piano flawlessly, or so it seemed. But always encouraged each student and never criticized or humiliated. At the end of the school year, I suppose the State of New York required some sort of final exam in each subject and Music was no exception. It was decided at some level that each student would stand and demonstrate the ability to carry a tune. If you have ever had a fear of public speaking...imagine having to sing in front of your classmates

Sister Mary Consuelo would come into our class and stand in front, patiently, as each of us droned on through "row,row,row your boat" or the ever popular "Mary Had a Little Lamb". Some of us made it through the whole song. Some were cut off after 2 or 3 bars. "Thank you, Thomas...you may be seated"
My friend, Warren Pujdak, stood up and proceeded to belt out the words to "The Hucklebuck"!
Not the Ed Norton version.....The Chubby Checker Version...

We had never heard anything like it...not in Catholic School.
Sister Mary Consuelo let him fly through the entire song, unable to hide the smile which lit up her face.

I read her obituary this morning in Newsday. I'm not sure how old she was. I hope that she will Rest in Peace with a song in her heart for all eternity.

Bye,Bye, Love

It was an early evening phone call.
"Hi Thom, it's Mark"
"Hey, what's up?"
Mark and I had been playing music together for years, starting around 1992 or so. He only lived two houses away, so it was easy to practice whenever we felt like it. Over the years the members of the "band" had changed many times, sometimes even including our wives, and other "strays" we picked up from time to time.

But basically, it was Mark and I. He had a better voice and wider range, but somehow we managed to put together quite a few songs..Mark on the drums, and me playing guitar.
I was fairly certain he wasn't calling with a record deal.

"Guess what...I got us a gig".
"Really ?...when ?"
"This afternoon."
"Hello?"  We hadn't practiced in some time...we barely had a solid set list.
I wasn't sure about any of this...."Where is it?" I asked. What the hell is open this afternoon?, I wondered.

"You know the Little Flower Nursing Home on Main St.?"
"Yeah, what's open near that place?"
"That's the gig"
"Hello?"...You're kidding?"
"No...I have a friend there that I visit and they have a community room, and sometimes they put on shows for the residents"
I hesitated..."I don't know......"
"C'mon...I kinda told them we would do it"

So there it was. We had another friend named Kevin who sometimes played with us, and he said he would sit in. He played very well and could follow whatever we played with no trouble at all.
So...we arrived at the nursing home and were shown to the community room to set up the equipment.Now, usually when you play a gig..the room is empty until "show time". Not so today. Many of the residents were already lined up in their wheelchairs..watching us set up.

The room was a balmy 85 degrees and I started to sweat like Mike Tyson on Father's Day.
The "Audience" started to stir and become restless.
"When are you going to sing?"
"Is there going to be Pudding?"

The heat was unbearable..I even had an Electric Fireplace going full blast behind me. Mark and Kevin were ready. We reached into our bag of tricks and opened with a song we had down solid..the Everly Brothers "WALK RIGHT BACK".
The song went beautifully, Mark and I harmonizing comfortably straight through.
Nothing.
No applause. Nada. Zip.
From the back row..a voice shouted out: "TAKE ME BACK UPSTAIRS"

Mark leaned into his mike and said: "Thanks Folks, that was "WALK RIGHT BACK...by the Everly Brothers.."

We played a dozen or more songs in the combination of sweltering heat and frigid response, and it was time to pack up. Our equipment was in the lobby and we shuttled back and forth, loading it into our cars.
Some of the residents had been moved into the lobby to await family visitors. One such lady had come to see her Mother, who waited quietly in her wheelchair, watching us.
The daughter arrived and saw the musical equipment and turned to her Mom:
"How nice, Mom....they had music for you!"
The old lady leaned towards her daughter and in a stage whisper, said:

"You see those two?....that's the Everly Brothers..."

Rest in Peace, Phil.