Sunday, September 24, 2017

When We Were Typecast



I hope many of you remember the IBM Selectric Typewriter.  What a marvel! It changed my working life.  The best feature was a little white spool -- correction tape -- that you could use to white out your typos.  Ah, the beauty of erasure.  I believe that only the lowly pencil had that feature until IBM made the leap.

Yesterday I was at the American Writers Museum.  There was a collection of typewriters on display.  There were the usual clackity-clack black ones.  And, among them the sleek Selectric.  I started to touch it fondly, maybe tapping into some sisterhood of secretaries.

I'm glad that in the sea of our forgotten words, there were some great authors who were touching the same keys.

Wednesday, September 13, 2017

The Keys

At a party at Bill's home, I met a charming young couple who had just come to Hollywood to pursue their promising careers.  The next day they were dead.  Two of ten struck down by an "old man" driver who plowed into pedestrians at a mall in Santa Monica.  It was one of those "I put my foot on the accelerator instead of the brake" stories.

The man was so universally despised that I believe some of the rage was directed at the cruelty of randomness itself.  Isn't that the reason we search so relentlessly for the "meaning of life"?

Recently Venus Williams broke down over her involvement in a fatal accident even though she was held completely harmless.  Laura Bush admitted to carrying forward a lot of pain.

As for the "driving while old" situation, I am not going to agonize too much when my time comes.  It's going to be 90 years or sooner if I decide I am slipping.

If you're around, can I have a ride?

Thursday, September 7, 2017

A Mystery Remains



I heard a great story on the radio.  There was this husband and wife team who were very popular magicians in the late '40's and '50's.  They had one amazing trick that sealed their fame.  I missed the part where the trick was described, but it was very complicated.  Eventually, the couple retired and grew very old.

They decided never to reveal how they accomplished the trick.  Famous magicians like Penn and Teller begged them to let them in on the secret.  "We'll name the trick after you," they said.  "You will live on in magician history."

After the husband had died and the wife was on her deathbed, she was asked one last time.  "No," she said, "I believe it's better if you figure it out for yourself."

So now the question is:  Would you rather be like most of us who strive to set things up for our children? Wills, tax shelters, executors, etc.  Or, are you among the few who believe that you deserve to find your own fate and your sense of accomplishment in the process?

Is it better if you have to figure it out for yourself?

Monday, September 4, 2017

After the Line


One of the loveliest place in nature I've visited was on the grounds of a trailer park near Kissimmee, Florida.  As I was suffering through the last days of a crumbling marriage, my great friend Kathy suggested I tag along when she drove to pick up her folks and bring them back to Chicago.

I had never been to a trailer park or stayed in a trailer.  This one was nothing like my silly expectations.  Spacious, modern, and situated in a park with a club house, little putting green, swiming pool and lots of green space and water.

Kathy's father and I walked around.  He told me that most of the people who lived in the park were retired auto workers from Detroit.  They had been able to secure this amazing retirement because of social security and the wages they earned from working forty, even fifty years on the assembly line.

Now, we've turned much of that work over to robots.  No retirement required.

Saturday, September 2, 2017

Solidarity Forever



When I was a teenager in Detroit, Walter Reuther moved in across the street.  It was after he got shot and he had a security detail guarding him and the house.  They were big guys who kept an eye on everything.

They kept an eye on me when I would be sitting in a car with my date, or acting goofy with my girlfriends.  My mother loved it.

I didn't know who Walter Reuther was when he "made us behave."  But later, I made it a point to read up on his amazing life.  Especially the sit down strike at the River Rouge plant.

The relentless attack on unions has destroyed what I believe was most "American" about this country.
The ordinary guy had a chance.