Spring Break

Coming over the bridge from the real world to our little retiree island in the sun one can feel an immediate change.  Gone for the most part are troubles and cares, replaced instantaneously with a sense of serenity. 

Our retreat is called Singer Island and named for Mr. Singer of the sewing machine company, not for a singer of songs named Bing Crosby.  Crosby used to vacation here too, but that's another story.

Within Singer Island is a special community named Palm Beach Shores, or “PBS” as we natives call it. It is in truth an island within the island. We have our own police department, fire department and a town hall staffed for the most part by friendly hardworking people. We have a private beach manned by highly qualified guards, ready in a heartbeat to meet whatever challenges fate may usher in. And every year fate ushers in a challenge referred to as “Spring Break.”  Long ago this interlude in school calendars was the Easter vacation.  However in today's politically correct environment of super sensitivity to anything and everything, Easter vacation is gone, and we pass over Passover as well.

Now we have “Spring Break” which as witnessed here in Florida, runs from New Year's day to the following Christmas eve. We have an uninterrupted stream of pasty faced Yankees determined to scorch themselves before they return to their classrooms in the frozen tundra. We, the bronzed ones, smirk at them before we revisit the dermatologist’s office where modern-day Vikings slash and burn us before we return to our cabanas on the beach. Spring Break seems endless. Just as one liberated group of schoolies departs, another arrives. There are of course other holidays during the school year. So if you add them all together your kids are rarely in the classroom. As for college age men and women, well dear old dad and mom are forking out big time dollars for smallish face time with teachers. No wonder we lag behind the rest of the world where school and studying is rightfully viewed as the ticket to success.

The American Way is play, play, play.  Unhappily in a very competitive world, someday we will be paying a heart-stopping bill for this Spring Break fun in the sun.

New Faces

Where is Leonard Sillman when we need him?

Mr. Sillman was famous for several things, most especially for introducing new talent to the world of entertainment. Sillman's “New Faces” musical reviews spanned decades and featured such stars-to-be as Henry Fonda, Imogene Coca, the hilarious Paul Lynde and many more. The two biggest words for us these days are New Faces.  Most of us are bored to tears by seeing the same array of personalities in the magazines and on television. And I'm not just talking about Kim Kardashian and her famous-for-being-famous posse of sisters and mother.

As but one example, the tennis season is in full flower right now and here we go again with Mary Carillo, Mary Carillo, and yet more Mary Carillo.  Many of us remember when Mary from Queens teamed with John “The Brat” McEnroe to win the (1977) French Mixed Doubles.  Ancient history you say?  Well yes, this was way before yellow tennis balls flew over the net but that duo did warm the hearts of those who love stories of unknowns capturing a crown. After a while Mary was sidelined from playing on the tennis tour when her knees gave out; she then embarked on a career as a sports commentator. She knows her stuff about the game but familiarity does breed viewer contempt. There is a statute of limitations with viewer's patience in seeing and hearing the same old - same old whether it is from Mary or others.

Think of the Clintons, Good Ol Burger Billy and Hillary Eternal.  Few indeed are those who want to sit through another 100 years of either. And that goes for yet another Bush or two. Buckle up, folks, we are destined to suffer more and more, and more. This is where Leonard Sillman could have rescued us just as the cavalry did in the old shoot-em-ups at the Saturday matinees. Unhappily Leonard rode into the sunset a while back, leaving only his tombstone that reads “Here lies Leonard Sillman: Straightened out at last.”

                

Too bad for all of us. More than ever, we need New Faces.            

Show Business

Way back when, Ed Justin of the TV production company Screen Gems, Art Shulman of TV Guide and I were having lunch at the Oak Room of the Plaza Hotel in Manhattan. In those long ago days the Oak Room was a prime watering hole for those in the broadcasting industry. Justin had just returned from London where he witnessed “four skinny kids with long shaggy hair” take over England. The quartet was due to appear the following week on the Ed Sullivan Show. Justin predicted they would sweep the USA as well. Neither Shulman nor I believed him, hooted at his prediction and had him pick up the tab. Short weeks later Justin had the last laugh when The Beatles conquered audiences on this side of the pond just as they had in Europe.  

Flash forward to 2014 and witness the Beatles in the headlines again. The Fab Four is minus John Lennon and George Harrison these days but Ringo Starr and Paul McCartney keep the flame burning with no diminishing of the fire they lit a half century ago. As I write this column news has come in that the great Sid Caesar has passed away. Before the Beatles dominated America, television comedy ruled the airwaves. Names like Caesar, Imogene Coca and Ernie Kovacs pioneered the genre and will ever remain in television's pantheon. Then and now there are creative men and women like Justin and Shulman to be sure the show goes on.

As part of The Greatest Generation, Ed and Art faced the challenge of World War II. Justin's guts and his Yiddish tongue talked dozens of German soldiers into surrendering, a feat for which he won a Distinguished Service Cross and a battlefield commission. Later in civilian life, among a score of outlandish stunts, he marketed three guys dressed in costumes as Huckleberry Hound, Yogi Bear and Fred Flintstone. They attracted hundreds of thousands of hysterical fans here and abroad as he set up Jellystone parks amid frantic promotions that rivaled the madness of his WWII days.

At the same time as Justin was fighting on one side of the globe Shulman was in the Pacific theater of operations sweating out the probability of invading Japan. After the war Art, went on to prominence in the publishing business, all the while writing comedy material for The Tonight Show and other network programs. In the closing days of his career he masterminded an outstanding event honoring the SS Exodus and its heroic effort to save thousands of Holocaust survivors by transporting them from France to Palestine. As part of the festivities surrounding this celebration, he talked Sid Caesar and Imogene Coca out of retirement to headline a successful fund raiser. Caesar and Coca brought down the house earning standing ovations just as they had in their glory days a half century earlier.

Stars will always have their names in lights, but just as surely there will be unnamed heroes like Ed Justin and Art Shulman standing in the wings of show business to make sure the magic happens.

Holding Hands

Holding hands at midnight

Neath a starry sky

Oh that is nice work if you can get it

And you can get it if you try...

George Gershwin wrote the music and his brother Ira penned the lyrics for “Nice Work if You Can Get It”, a song for the 1937 motion picture “Damsel in Distress” which starred Fred Astaire and Joan Fontaine. Astaire sang the song which has since become a classic. Many another songbird has tried a hand at it but Mr. Astaire's version remains the gold standard. Joan Fontaine, very young and quite pretty at the time, pretended to dance with him. You will recall that Astaire danced with a clothes tree and a handful of other inanimate objects over his long years in film. Joan was surely among them. No matter, the Gershwin brothers' magic with words and music made for an enjoyable movie outing.

Back to holding hands at midnight or at any other time for that matter. Here at   In-Person Communications we pay very close attention to body language for it gives us a clue to the relationship (or little relationship or absolutely no relationship) between a speaker and his/her audience. Hands specifically are the most important aspect in the body language mix.

During the month of February when most of our clients and friends were experiencing the Winter from Hell, my wife and I basked in the warmth of The Sunny South (yet far enough from Atlanta and their own huge weather problems.)  So while whiling away many an hour at a lovely beach we had repeated opportunity to observe boys and girls, men and women, strolling the beach holding hands. Romance is lovely to behold, be it puppy love, the middle years, senior stage or the senior-senior world. And yes, as a member of the senior-senior group I've heard the joke that holding hands is “more for assistance than romance.” I'm blessed with both when I hold the hand of Mrs. Reilly.

In these days of rushing here and there, multitasking (or attempting to), gulping or skipping meals, frantically trying to bi-locate in order to be present at two appointments at the same time, important relationships suffer mightily. And none more so than the primary twosome, you and your beloved. I don't say that holding hands is the ultimate answer to keeping romance alive. I just suggest it is darn sure worth doing more of it than you have in the past.

New Jersey

With the possible exception of Idaho, New Jersey has been maligned more than any other of these United States. Not fair. More than a garden state, New Jersey has managed to assemble an enviable array of scenic and cultural riches within its borders. Many outsiders simply do not appreciate it.

New Jersey has mountains, seashore and historic treasures by the handful.  It is certainly much more than the New Jersey Turnpike, the frame of reference for the unknowing. The current flap about its governor and unnecessary closings on the George Washington Bridge (“Bridgegate as it is now called) did a real disservice to the citizens of the state. But let's pause for the moment to focus on some positive things.

Visitors to New Jersey come from near and far.  In general they enjoy themselves mightily, returning home with rich memories. People from New York State, right next door, have easy access to the northern end of New Jersey with its extensive beaches, the Statue of Liberty Park and countless other attractions. Those of us from Philadelphia, just across the Delaware River bridge, have always considered “Jersey” our second home. Going “down the shore” was part of our vocabulary.  Beyond submarine sandwiches (“zeps”, “hoagies” or whatever you prefer to call this delicacy) we share an affinity for cinnamon buns, field grown tomatoes and sweet corn.  Those of us of a certain age remember our teenage years on the home front during World War II, when too young to serve in the military, we spent our days in Ocean City, Atlantic City and other towns along the southern part of the state. Those were times when members of the Coast Guard and their dogs patrolled the beaches on the lookout for German submarines that might be landing spies. (From time to time they did just that along our USA shores.) Adventurous boys and girls hid in the sand dunes evading these patrols. Days of innocence and insanity to be sure.  These are just a part of my personal memories. Others have their own fond reminiscences of that great state, New Jersey.

The point of all this is to say that even those who are not residents of the State of New Jersey feel offended. We decry the politically inspired mess and inconvenience Bridgegate caused to so many hard working people. Equally onerous, we simmer at the terrible cost to the reputation of the State of New Jersey. It is reprehensible. Those responsible for this disgrace simply must be held responsible. Starting at the top, which is usually a very good place to start.

Mrs. Claus and the New Year

Now that Santa has completed his 2013 Christmas run and is safely back home in the North Pole, he deserves some R&R.  How does Santa chill out?  Is he knocking back a few Heinekins as he sits in his big easy chair away from the manger and also away from the fireplace? (“ I don't want to even see another damn fireplace until next December,” he rumbled).  We assume that Mrs. Claus is happy to have him back, but having Santa and the flying reindeer away for a while did give her a mini-vacation of sorts.

Mrs. Claus has her own fans in Christmasland. One holiday shopping photo that showed Santa without his wedding ring brought a number of irate complaints on the Internet. Well, relax. Rest assured that the marriage is intact; their biggest domestic challenge right now is to make New Year resolutions. It's no easy task for them, nor for us.  Historically many a good intention dies by the wayside even before the end of January.  Did you ever wonder about those grassy hills that dot the land just to the sides of our turnpikes and major highways?  They are made up of garbage, trash, discarded furniture and broken New Year resolutions.

Where to start?  Many of us consider losing weight. I've made that resolution every year since forever. (Now I simply look at the percentage of gain as compared to other years.)  Barbara Szala our esteemed President here at In-Person Communications has made a very successful career out of helping clients. Her annual project of baking delicious Christmas cookies also falls into that category, but woe to waistlines. Count me in anyway. There are many desirable New Year resolutions  -  not losing your temper when caught in endless traffic around Fort Lee on the George Washington bridge or refraining from comments on the idiocy of Washington, D. C. among them.

But here's one we can all embrace: simply put, it's being grateful for the blessings we have already received.  If we but pause to think about them, 2014 will be off to a great start.

Happy New Year!

Hacking Around

Q: What do Angela Merkel, chancellor of Germany, Francois Hollande, president of France and Charles Reilly, Jr., your scribe, share in common?    

 A. We three have been subjected to invasions of privacy.  Our communications have been interrupted; we've been spied upon. “Hacking” is not good by anyone’s standards except for the Benedict Arnolds of our day who pose as heroes by opening up someone else's mail in the name of transparency.

Spying is not news of course. Our own National Security Agency (NSA) has been looking over the shoulders of friends and foe alike since forever. So have the intelligence agencies of virtually every other nation in this world.  The difference is that here in the good old USA we are better at it because we have the dollars and the technology to stay ahead of the pack. That is until we are betrayed by one of our own. Then the whole thing is a pretty sad mess. 

It's one thing to be linked with Angela and Francois when it comes to being in good company, quite another to be victimized by having your privacy violated and having to pay tech people to clear up the damage. Yes, losing my address book was bad, almost as bad as the insensitivity of my carrier, AOL.com. They offered no help at all unless I would sign up for a monthly fee looking forward.  As my IT put it to AOL “you are holding his personal address book hostage; you are blackmailing him.”  Words fell on ears that did not hear.

There is general sadness these days about the loss of “ethics”, “integrity” and others words that once epitomized quality of life. They are pretty much gone with the wind. This particular hacking of my computer was a deeper wound because it came as we were announcing to the world the birth of our first great grandson, Charles Henry Williamson. As a consequence an exceptionally large number of people were inconvenienced. Again, I apologize to each of you. 

As for AOL.com., well, you can pretty much read my mind.