Honoring The Star Spangled Banner

The Protest of the Week actions by certain sports players and celebrities who kneel or otherwise rebel against paying traditional respect to our national anthem is beyond “stupid”, as Justice Ginsburg initially labeled it.  It is a disgrace to our flag, our nation and to We The People.

Certainly we are imperfect here in the United States. We are still a work in progress with a long way to go. But trading one injustice for another does not move things in a positive direction, particularly the shining cause of equality and justice for all. If there ever was an Original Sin for this country, it was slavery.  Anyone who knows history knows that slavery didn't start with America. But with our unparalleled promise and prosperity as a people we certainly ended up as the poster child for continued oppression. And prejudice, especially racial and religious bias, is the jewel in the Devil's crown.

There are millions and millions of Americans who are hungry and hurting today. There are millions more who are angry both with and without cause. If you were not here on our planet for the 2016 presidential campaign, take my word for it.  If you were here and awake, you know exactly what I am talking about. Divisive actions, words and gestures only deepen the divide. If there is an example for all of us it is our military, the men and women in uniform who have time and again placed their own bodies in harm's way to protect us. That defense line is made up of all sizes, shapes and, colors – white, black, brown, red, yellow skins and those who are combinations of the former.

Here's a math lesson for all who never knew or who have forgotten:   442.

The 442^nd Infantry Regiment of The United States Army served in World War Two. Read about it. 700 killed in action, 9500 Purple Hearts. The 442 was made up of Japanese American who were uprooted from their homes, rounded up, and forced into internment camps. Imagine US citizens being subjected to such outrage! Then the offer came to their young men for US Army service in the European theater.  Beyond outstanding, they became the most highly decorated unit in US military history. (Part of their outfit released the Jews at the notorious Dachau concentration camp.) When these warriors came back home they faced subtle and sometimes outright bias. Still they soldiered on. And so should we.

Disrespecting the National Anthem and our flag plays right into the hands of hatred. It's far worse than stupid.

Donald Trump

Politics and politicians are not normally on my “Must see, Must listen to, Must read” agendas. This year's election campaigning may not be a fair example of why I feel this way for there are many other reasons including near-terminal boredom. Still 2016 is such a staggering mess it has discouraged men and women all across the spectrum, including the most ardent disciples of our political process.

I come from a family of Republicans. As a kid, I can clearly remember my parents' dismay at Wendell Willkie's 1940 loss to Franklin Delano Roosevelt.  When I was old enough to register for voting I immediately did so. As I came back home that day, my mother and father, feigning casual interest, asked me how I signed up. I replied “Communist.” If you listen carefully, you may be able to hear the echo of Dear Dad's roar to this day. It was also an early indicator that my career path did not lead to stand-up comedy.           

No hero, I.  But at the same time my military service involved three years of my life dedicated to protecting our national cornerstone -, personal freedom and the privilege of voting. Now we are all witnessing the nadir of political activity in the Clinton-Trump campaigning. For starters, neither candidate attracts me.  As “T”, a close and respected friend, said to me about Hillary; “I wouldn't trust her as far as I could throw her'. I feel that way too. As for Trump, I believe he is certifiable, ready for a padded cell. His recently released comments on women I took as a direct assault on my mother, my wife, my daughters and the other female friends we hold dear. Unforgivable.

Some argue that principles underlying the philosophies of the Democrat and Republican platforms are bigger than any one man or woman standing as a candidate. Perhaps this is so. My very small collection of admired politicians includes the late (and surely great) Thomas Phillip “Tip” O'Neill who memorably said “all politics is local.”   I'll take that remark and apply it to the importance of candidates on the “under card” here in Florida. We have critical offices to be filled this election cycle.  

On the national scene however, the people of this great country deserve better than the two presidential candidates we have been offered this time round.  That's the biggest history lesson of all from 2016.

Arnold Palmer

The world is divided into two groups – Golfers and the rest of us.  Within the latter group are those who have of necessity mastered the art of zip-lip.  “Do not talk about this particular sport, especially along the lines of negativism, as in “it's like watching grass grow.”

Arnold Palmer brought a group of non-golfers to appreciation of the sport by mastering a combination of technical skill and likability that no one else could achieve. How could you not like Palmer, whether you were part of his “Army” or just a general sports fan?

There is also the Pennsylvania tie for us. Arnie was proud of his Pennsylvania roots, so we were kinsman from that standpoint. Surrounded by wisecracking New York Giants fans in our retirement world, this more than offsets criticism that our state has little to be proud of beside the Liberty Bell. Aficionados genuflect in the direction of Arnie's hometown of Latrobe (which is, as you probably know, is about 10 miles northwest of Ligonier) home of Rolling Rock beer. A panelist on a beer judging contest once noted that RR had the “distinct aroma of goat urine.” No matter, 19 year old collegians playing shuffleboard at Dave's bar considered RR the nectar of the gods. It was ever so.

Tributes to Arnold Palmer, king of the links, showcase a recurring theme - his personal graciousness to everyone. He was a model for the Golden Rule of “do to others whatever you would like them to do to you.” Golf lessons and endless talk about birdies and bogeys, hooks, shanks and whatever else fascinates golfers will have their moment, but one thing is for sure, the ever-lasting tribute to Arnold Palmer will be our memory of his warm smile, good manners on and off the course and respect for everybody else.

He taught a life lesson not just for golfers, but for all of us.                            

Done In by Dining Out

For many Americans dining out is a pretty big deal.  On paper at least, it holds the promise of something different, a break from the routine. There are the attractions of not having to clean up, wash the dishes, or at least get them into a dishwasher, put away those items that call for putting away.  For sure there are couples among us who welcome a “date” highlighting dinner.  Families find that the kids can frequently put aside their bickering long enough to have the attention given to them by ever-patient servers.  Plus, ordering whatever they want!

Yes, there were positive, bright sides to dining out in the old days. Today, not so much. Time marches on for sure when servers greet diners as if we are all part of one big frat house. The first time one asked “Do you guys want anything to drink?” I felt it insulting to my attractive wife and replied “Does this lady look like a guy to you?” Only that cool Guinness calmed me down.  No sense fighting the inevitable in our constantly dumbed down world.  Roll on.  There are enough hurdles challenging your digestion already. “Tipping” being one.  My wife and I don't go out for dinner all that much, but when we do I don't feel a need for a course in mathematics. Suggesting percentages for gratuities is an invitation to increased blood pressure. Still I don't want to go totally negative by being done in by dining out. There are certainly more reasons to go out once in a while than there are staying home 100% of the time.

Some dining out experiences are burned in my memory.  One such involves the officers club at the old Philadelphia Naval Base where I dined frequently with my good pal, the late Rear Admiral Jack Sweeney. Our friendship was forged in teenage years when he was caddying at the golf club in Somers Point, New Jersey, and I was setting up chairs and umbrellas on the beaches of nearby Ocean City. I respected Jack's rank but our long ago years were by far the strongest tie that bound us.

Most of the servers at the officers club were Irish women. And Sweeney, Irish to the core, loved the club's mashed potatoes that seemed to be part of every menu.  The Irish waitresses hovered around Sweeney like so many mother hens constantly asking him, “Admiral, would you like some more potatoes?” Sweeney never refused.

When my wife and I dine out and mashed potatoes are on the menu, I order them in memory of Admiral Sweeney.

The U.S. Tennis Open

Now that the 2016 Open is in the history books it's a good time to reflect on memories and some of the changes that have taken place over the past half century in the tennis world. 

Philadelphia has always been a great tennis town. In earlier days private clubs dominated the scene ranging from World War One with the immortal R. Norris “Dick” Williams (a survivor of the Lusitania disaster) to the 1950s and Davis Cup stalwart Vic Seixas. Both were Merion Cricket Club members. The tennis legend Bill Tilden played out of the Germantown Cricket Club where he had a private court for play and practice. Nowadays the club's swimming pool marks that site.

My own love of the game started when my tennis-playing Aunt Catherine gifted me with a wooden Bancroft racquet purchased from Mitchell & Ness, the mecca for sporting goods. It was strung in gut, the best possible in the late 1940s.  Aunt Catherine was a take-no-prisoners player due in part to the fact she had to work even as she raised her son. A rarity in those times. That weapon served me well during my collegiate career on the courts.

I started officiating matches in the 1950s along with two other guys from suburban Philadelphia, Brooks Keffer and Don Belcher. Our umpiring duties took us to the West Side Tennis Club in the Tudor styled neighborhood of Forest Hills, New York. The U.S. National Championships were held there prior to the opening of the new Billy Jean King tennis complex. You can't compare the two venues. Apples and oranges. The national center is a concrete giant of ever-expanding wonder; The West Side Tennis Club an intimate setting. Keffer and I used to take the train from 30^th Street Station to Forest Hills and the tennis aficionado's paradise. We'd return tired and suntanned at day's end. All the big names played in the championship of course so we had ample opportunity to see the Greats in action. The environment of the West Side Tennis Club setting also gave us easy access to the players in addition to sumptuous luncheons and what amounted to an open bar.  These perks more than offset the meager $8 we were paid for a full day's work calling lines.

Brooks has since departed for the Great Tennis Court in the Sky, but my memories of Mr. Keffer and the championships at Forest Hills are evergreen. Never more so than at this time of year when the U.S. Open is in full swing.

Throwing in the Towel

The 2016 Tennis season is now in the history books.  It was a hot one. Now tennis fans have to wait for The Australian Open in January for things to warm up again. Looking back, how did 2016 go?

For starters, the season was far too long for mortal bodies to survive without injury. Federer and Nadal, both sidelined by hurt, are prominent examples of the wounded in action.

The United States of America, long dominant in the Men's game, is strictly an “also ran” these days. Power lies elsewhere with Novak Djokovic of Serbia in the lead and a pack of contenders led by Andy Murray of Scotland nipping at his heels. 

The women's game is flowering with dozens of hard-hitting newly minted stars from here and abroad, including our own Madison Keys.  I disagree with those who say that women can't attract galleries and provide exciting play. Serena Williams is still the queen of the court. Long may she reign.

Loss of temper dominates the game of the new breed with very talented but immature stars like Nick Kyrgios yelling obscenities on court directed at one and all. Ilie Nastase, Jimmy Connors, John “The Brat” McEnroe and other legends of yesterday seem like choir boys in comparison. Why don't they understand that you can be admired for your talent AND be well-liked at the same time?

As part of the general demise of good sportsmanship, racket-smashing has opened up new frontiers for equipment manufacturers.  John Isner, formerly a poster boy for mothers wishing for an idealized son, recorded one best-be-forgotten rant. 

The habits of players whispering into a couple of tennis balls prior to hitting their serves had me imaging they were munching on yellow colored marshmallows like the treats we have at Easter time.

                   

But the biggest of all nonsense is the almost universal habit of going for a towel wipe down after every shot. Guys, it's time to throw in that towel and just play the game. 

Americans

This week will not be forgotten – certainly not in our lifetime. The horror story of the police being killed in Dallas adds a bloody mark not just on the city or the state of Texas but on the soul of every American. Our great country is dramatically less so because of the murders that happen with such frequency all across our nation. And yet this one cop-killing rampage all by itself shows just how dramatically far we have fallen.

When I was a little boy we were taught that the policeman was our friend – a safe harbor against all that was bad in our world. That feeling has served me well. I passed that philosophy along to my own kids. Then the world turned upside down and that feeling, along with acknowledging the Almighty, allegiance to the Stars and Stripes and respect for just about everyone and everything went out the window. Right up there with the very top sadness is broad brush thinking that all men and women in blue are hell bent on killing young black males. The flip side of the argument is that black youngsters are all paragons of virtue being persecuted by a white society represented by law enforcement.  Have we forgotten that the human race is fraught with imperfection, including both some of those in uniform and those in housing projects?  Still the bad apples in both categories are few in number.

During this terrible week, as in life, there were good days. My wife and I watched the Wimbledon tennis championships, proudly rooting for the Americans.  And that is the real lesson in the midst of all this horrible prejudice, racism and pure hate.  The first step of all is to recognize and herald the fact that we are all Americans - starting with thee and me. Dropping all the labels like Italian/American, African/American, Irish/American. This doesn't mean I have to forgo knocking back a couple pints of Guinness while getting misty-eyed when they sing 'Danny Boy”, nor should you have to give up your own nostalgic background. What it does mean is that our very survival depends on embracing the fact that each of us are first and foremost, now and forever more, Americans.