A tarnished silver anniversary

Today is the 25th anniversary, or more precisely, today would have been my 25th wedding anniversary. It's hard to believe that so much time has elapsed since that memorable day when my bride took her walk down the aisle and I smashed that glass wrapped in a napkin beneath my foot to end the ceremony. I suppose I should be grateful that the time we had together, although short, was meaningful. The decade I spent as a married man was one filled with thousands of special times and moments. Like all couples, we had our share of arguments, some of which I lost and others that I let her win. It wasn't all about winning, though. It was about sharing. She shared my bank account, my cars and my home. I shared the payments. It was a match made in banking heaven. Seriously, though, I was very happy to be married and the grieving after her passing continues to this day. I take solace in knowing the love we shared still survives in the person of my son, who, believe it or not, is planning his own nuptials in the not-too-distant future. Silver is the precious metal associated with the anniversary year of 25. In Scouting circles silver is the most precious metal linked with the highest of awards. There are Silver Beaver, Silver Antelope and Silver Buffalo for adults on a local, regional and national basis. There are also Silver Arrow Points for Cub Scouts and Silver Palms for Eagle Scouts. I feel honored to have lived to celebrate this sterling and lustrous day, although it would have been ever so much more special had she also lived to see this day.

The Saints are for real

Something has happened to our New Orleans Saints. Under the helm of Sean Payton's leadership, the play of the upstart NFL performers has gone from good or lackluster to great and formidable. Despite a laughable franchise history from its inception in 1967, the Saints fans have been characterized as being rabid beyond all expectations. They did have a couple of good years including that run at the NFC Championship two years ago - a juggernaut that froze on Soldier's Field at the hands of the Chicago Bears. After impressive wins in their first five games this season the Saints never trailed to any team. Until yesterday. That was when the uppity Miami Dolphins, rested after a bye week in which they were able to prepare for their contest, piled on the points and dazzled the boys in gold with a 24-3 first quarter shellacking. When the half ended, the Drew Brees-led offense had closed the gap, trailing 24-10 after a controversial decision by Miami coach Sorano led to a one-yard Saints touchdown run instead of a sure field goal with five seconds left on the clock and no time outs. To a lesser team the numbers might have been daunting. The Saints returned to the field with purpose and posted two additional touchdowns in the third quarter, but Miami answered with another 10 points, leading 34-14 at the end of the third quarter. A lesser team would have been derailed, but the Saints defense held firm and their offense exploded. Miami watched in disbelief as the Saints added another 22 unanswerd points on the scoreboard that lifted the team to an unbelievable 46-34 comeback victory. It was quite simply the most inspired comeback in Saints history, snatching victory from the hands of defeat and keeping their record unblemished. The team next takes on arch-rivals Atlanta a week from tonight in the Superdome wtih coverage on ESPN.

In the meantime, the New York Yankees head to the World Series against the Philadelphia Phillies after their 40th American League pennant was captured yesterday with a win over the Califorina Angels. While this may not make any Boston Red Sox fans happy, it does lift my spirits and along with the Saints win makes me quite happy as we head toward the annual classic. Does anybody else think this baseball season has been stretched out a bit too far? It won't be long before we're talking about a player being "Mr. November."

The final pie in the face for Soupy

Today is a day of sadness for me that ranks in my mind with the date six years ago when Bob Hope passed away. Soupy Sales, the clown prince of television during the days of my youth, has joined the ranks of other great comic performers who have gone on to perform on the celestial stage. It's not that the 83-year-old Sales (born Milton Supman in 1926 in North Carolina) was all that funny. In fact, he was probably more juvenile than jovial in his comic patter. He was just plain silly and his creations of "White Fang"("the biggest meanest dog in the United States") and "Black Tooth" ("the biggest sweetest dog in the United States") were among my boyhood TV favorites. I remember the black and white world of early television and the grainy reception we had for the upstart ABC network over which "The Soupy Sales Show" was seen. Somehow that black and white medium seemed perfect for throwing shaving cream pies, Sales's trademark, and his non-stop joke telling ("Did you hear the one about...?"). Even a stellar celebrity like Frank Sinatra was perfectly at home having a pie lobbed at his kisser by Sales. Sales gained his nickname while growing up in North Carolina. His Jewish parents ran a dry-goods store and allegedly sold sheets to local Ku Klux Klan members. His other brothers' nicknames were Ham Bone and Chicken Bone. He was given the moniker "Soup Bone," which he shortened to Soupy. After a stint in the Navy during World War II where he performed for his fellow sailors over the public address system, Sales attended Marshall College, earning a journalism degree. He began his broadcast career in his home of Huntington, North Carolina using the broadcast name of Soupy Hines before journeying to Cincinnati, where he got involved with the television industry. Early in his career he changed his last name to Sales so it wouldn't get confused with Heinz (as in 57 varieties). Oddly enough, he then traveled to my former home of Cleveland, where he established himself as a local celebrity and received his very first pie in the face. Sales claimed he left Cleveland "for health reasons: people got sick of me." It wasn't long before he jumped to Detroit and became a major local TV star there. Eventually his shtick got him noticed by the network brass and he relocated to New York, where he became the darling of ABC and the delight of diminutive devotees such as I. His skits were decidedly puerile in nature, but I loved them, even if many of them went over my head. In truth I may have been exposed to modern jazz for the first time on Soupy's program, where the sweater and oversized bow-tie wearing host employed that brand of music for several of his segments. He was the precursor to the Benny Hill Show, only his show was for kids and the former was definitely for adults. There is no doubt that a part of me never outgrew Soupy Sales, and I think it safe to say that were it not for him, there would never have been a Pee Wee Herman, who was my son's favorite in his formative years. I had not seen or heard of Soupy Sales for at least a decade, but his death at a New York hospice yesterday saddens me and diminishes us all.

École du freak

New Orleans has long been a mysterious and exotic place. The locale has been the backdrop for myriad tales revolving about voodoo and ghosts. Witches, seers and voodoo priestesses like Marie Laveau wielded unlikely power over segments of the population due to their so-called powers. Several highly successful franchises from cult writers like Ann Rice and others have focused on vampires and other fictional creatures that go bump in the night. So, it is not surprising that the production company for "Cirque du Freak: The Vampire's Assistant" set up shop here last spring and started filming at a number of locations all over town for four months. Based on the first three of the twelve-volume "Saga of Darren Shan" by Darren Shan, the film stars John C. Reilly, Willem Dafoe, Jane Krakowski and Salma Hayek among others. While the Shan books don't specifically mention a particular city setting, New Orleans serves nicely as the fictional setting for this first film. Notice I said first film. I fully expect this one will be turned into at least two other sequels. It's just such a natural. The interesting point is that the young stars of "The Vampire's Assistant" are seen early in the film attending high school. The weird aspect here for me has nothing to do with the script. It's just the simple fact that the school depicted is, in fact, my own alma mater, the former Alcee Fortier High School, reorganized and renamed following Hurricane Katrina as Robert Mills Lusher Charter High School. Literally located a scant 15 blocks from my present domicile, Fortier High School was also my dad's school. His brother also attended. My Great Uncle Joseph Smith was the art instructor there for nearly 37 years from the day the school's doors opened. It does give one pause and I may check out the film just to see how many other scenes feature familiar settings.

Upstaged by a runaway balloon

Imagine the city of New Orleans rolling out the red carpet for the first presidential visit of Barack Obama'a administration. Governor Bobby Jindal, Senator Mary Landrieu, Mayor Ray Nagin and a host of dignitaries are on hand to welcome the president to New Orleans for the first time since taking the nation's highest office. Cameras are rolling and reporters and correspondents are hurrying from pillar to post to cover this short stay the entire duration of which will be less than four hours in length. The New Orleans population is collectively holding its breath, hoping the coverage will draw interest from outsiders who need to know about the slow progress being made towards recovery in the city. Four years after Hurricane Katrina's landfall this is a public relations opportunity that demands worthy network coverage and insight from commentators and pundits alike. Suddenly, a news flash is broadcast. A runaway helium-filled weather balloon is aloft with a six-year-old aboard. CNN cancels its scheduled broadcast with U.S. Representative Anh Cao to cover the plight of this potential disaster. The ravenous news industry pulls out all of the stops and New Orleans and its plight takes an immediate back seat as this "high priority" news event overshadows any previously planned coverage. After two hours of non-stop network coverage, a sudden downdraft forces the balloon to the surface and inside...gasp!...there is no six-year-old. Meanwhile, the president addresses a town hall meeting and only one person - a college student - asks a question which causes President Obama to have to address the question of what the federal government is actually going to do to help the city make its recovery. Pretty soon, after several 10-second video clips have been shot by the national media to represent the city's plight and his response, the president is winging his way aboard Air Force One back to the White House. Embarrassed city and state officials have their heads spinning trying to figure out what went wrong. By the time the story of the missing six-year-old gets sorted out, it is revealed he has been hiding in a closet in a room in his house while the nation's eyes were fixed on the runaway balloon. Questions are posited about the father who constructed the balloon and whether he was using the story for his own ends or not. New Orleans loses out. So, sorry, CNN says, but they just had to cover the breaking news story. Better luck next time. In the meantime I would like to make a suggestion. The next time President Obama is set to return to New Orleans, let's put all of our city and state leaders into a lighter-than-air ship and have it break free of its mooring. I can just see the headline now:

An Inconvenient Blog

Today is Blog Action Day, a worldwide effort by 5,000 fellow bloggers to spotlight one issue to which we can all add our own spin. The topic for today is climate change. I will be one of the first to admit the topic didn't seem to be of any particular interest to me five years ago. Oh, yes, there was that troublesome hole in the ozone over Antarctica and deforestation in several tropical rain forests seemed to be causing some problems in South America. But it wasn't until the summer of 2005 that the full impact of climate change - specifically that dealing with global warming and the causal effect of creating killer hurricanes - literally came home to roost. The devastation left behind the one-two punch of Hurricanes Katrina and Rita made me pay close attention. As a result of the impact of the former and the resultant flooding caused by poor civil engineering, climate change became a topic of keen interest to me and my fellow New Orleanians. I freely admit that I have never seen "An Inconvenient Truth," Al Gore's film that explains all of the causes and effects of climate change upon the ecology. Moreover, I have never taken a college level course on the subject. I am just a common-sense, laid-back fellow who reckons that we cannot continue to plunder our planet of riches, befoul and litter the landscape and affect the biosphere in myriad ways without repercussions like depleted ozone levels, acid rain and killer cyclones. It is true that the United States has been one of the leading culprits in defiling and desecrating the earth and its fragile ecosystem, but there are also many among us who recognize the folly in that and are now provocative advocates for change. Being green makes sense, but changing the habits of the American public will take time. Paying huge amounts at the gas pump made many of us rethink using cars and wasting fuel. Now that the price of a barrel of oil has plummeted from its peak a year and a half ago, the pressure seems to have lessened. The fact is the world is in the same shape as it was before; we're just paying a bit less due to man-made factors. We have been responsible for poisoning the atmosphere with thick billows of smoke from coal-burning energy plants and have greedily gorged ourselves on gallons of gasoline. Despite our track record, we are insisting that Third World nations and countries with burgeoning populations like those found in China and India should operate at a level far less than we had done just a few years ago. We need to set the example in order for those people to not think our actions as hypocritical. If we do nothing else than start to think about what we have done, we will have made a good start. Beyond that, though, we should clearly delineate goals and plan for a future that includes considerations that will slow, deter and countermand man's global effect upon climate change. Like it or not, we have the ultimate responsibility to take care of our fragile home and leave it in the same shape, if not better, than we had it handed to us. To do nothing less would be unconscionable. To do nothing would be criminal.

Rehabbing before performing

This picture was one of several taken yesterday at a single ranch style home in Meraux, Louisiana. Located a scant quarter-mile from the sprawling Murphy Oil Company complex, the house was being rehabbed by a number of out-of-town volunteers under the direction of the St. Bernard Project. Among the dedicated volunteers was none other than Neshama Carlebach, the peerless Jewish songstress seen at left, whose passion of bringing New Orleans back towards the road to recovery was never more evident or brilliantly expressed than that which she demonstrated by floating wallboard and applying joint compound (mud) to a room she built all by herself. Carlebach, the daughter of the famous "singing" Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach, is in town to headline a special benefit concert tomorrow night (October 15) at Touro Synagogue at 8:00 p.m. Along with 16 members of the Green Pastures Baptist Church Choir led by the Reverend Roger Hambrick, Carlebach will also be joined on stage by legendary New Orleans jazz pianist Ellis Marsalis and other unannounced players in a performance of original songs written by the late Rabbi Carlebach. Carlebach's producer and drummer Marc Amborsino was at her side yesterday, along with his wife Rozan, applying mud to sheetrock and doing what he could to help finish the project. Ambrosino and Carlebach were both in the Crescent City in 2006 for the New Orleans Jewish Music Festival held at Howling Wolf. It is very gratifying to see performers actually roll their sleeves up and get dirty in helping the city's recovery, but the opportunity to raise much-needed funds to battle hunger is even more important. The "Go You Forth" concert will raise money for the St. Bernard Project and the New Orleans Food Bank through Mazon, the Jewish organization that provides food and grants to aid the hungry. Mazon literally means "food" in Hebrew and the concert is Carlebach's dream towards making a significant impact on the recovery here in order to help former residents return to their city. Tickets are $18 in advance and $20 at the door. Group sales are $10 each, but must be purchased through the Mazon site. For more information call Touro Synagogue at 504-895-4843. The Go You Forth concert will be a wonderful opportunity for all of the New Orleans area to take part in an interfaith program that embraces the Jewish legacy of Rabbi Carlebach and the collective talents of Neshama Carlebach, the Green Pastures Baptist Church Choir, the legendary Ellis Marsalis and others. It will be a convergence of different worlds – Jewish songs, gospel and jazz – all designed to bring divergent folk together in worship and praise towards God. In a way it's a success already even before the first notes have been heard because of the generous spirit of giving by Carlebach and her band members in making this concert happen. If you are able to attend, fly to the "Go You Forth" concert and be a part of this experience. If you are unable to attend or live out of town, consider making a donation to Mazon or the St. Bernard Project. It will help and will definitely be appreciated.