Dispatch #452: No Love for Louis Pasteur?

I just read a Politico article about bird flu virus being detected in retail milk samples in the US. Sounds scary right? Thankfully, the FDA says the pasteurization process should render the virus inactive. 

Then I remembered an earlier Politico article about how some right-wingers—having already jumped on the anti-vaccine bandwagon—are now rejecting pasteurized milk. Yeah, nothing could possibly go wrong there. 

 There's more to come in the next dispatch.

©2024 SummitCityScribe

Dispatch #451: To Be a Goat

With the exception of cool, slang words & phrases tend to have rather short lifespans—specific to a particular era or age group. 

Take the word goat, for instance. For most of my time on planet Earth, an athlete being referred to as a goat was not a good thing. 

Sometime in the 1990s, however, that seems to have changed—with the old use of goat being rejected in favor of a new one, G.O.A.T. (Greatest Of All Time, which is a very good thing to call someone) taking its place.

As someone who grew up thinking of a goat as something bad, I'll admit that this change slightly annoys me—and also because I cringe at acronyms that make use of prepositions (for example, it's the NAACP, not the NAFTAOCP, and the FBI, not the FBOI).

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go outside at yell at those darn kids on my lawn.

There's more to come in the next dispatch.

©2024 SummitCityScribe

Dispatch #450: Mayor Sharon Tucker

 

According to a local media report, current 6th district city councilwoman Sharon Tucker will be the next mayor of Fort Wayne—a historic milestone for the Summit City. Over the years, Ms. Tucker's proven herself as effective leader and I know she'll be a fantastic mayor. A great day for Fort Wayne!

Update: Tucker will be sworn in as mayor on Tuesday.

There's more to come in the next dispatch.

©2024 SummitCityScribe

Dispatch #449: Samantha Stanton Returns!

The first three Samantha Stanton Adventures

Long-time readers of this blog know that I started it as a place to share information about the Young Adult e-book series I created, The Samantha Stanton Adventures.

In fact, the majority of the first two hundred posts here were about the characters, plot inspirations, and settings of the first three books in that series. Even the blog's title, Dispatches from Aldeburgh, is a nod to the hometown of my fictional protagonist, Samantha "Lizzie" Stanton.

After three years, I opted to move all of that content to another website, and Dispatches from Aldeburgh transformed into a place where I could write about whatever was on my mind at the moment.

Recently, however, I've become occupied with another bit of writing—the fourth book in The Samantha Stanton Adventures.

So, although I'll be posting here less frequently over the next few months, the end result should be an exciting new tale involving Lizzie and her friends exploring Aldeburgh's uniquely amazing library. 

Thanks for your patience!

There's more to come in the next dispatch.

©2024 SummitCityScribe

Dispatch #441: Minerva's Owl

 

As a long-time cinephile, I enjoy watching old movies and TV shows, and as a bibliophile, I love books, libraries, and bookstores.

Occasionally those two loves combine—as when a character in a film or TV show I'm watching enters a library or bookshop. This happened the other day during an episode of the 1970s cop drama, The Streets of San Francisco.

In The Bullet, an episode from 16 December 1972, police inspector Steve Keller (Michael Douglas) pops into a local bookstore to purchase a volume of verse by poet Ezra Pound as a gift for his partner Lt. Mike Stone (Karl Malden).

During this sequence, viewers get only a brief peek at the store's interior, but that was enough—along with the shop's name: Minerva's Owl—to intrigue me.

Aside from my love of bookstores, this also interested me because my Young Adult fantasy e-book series, The Samantha Stanton Adventures, features a luxurious Victorian mansion with an extensive private library—a library with a painted mural of Athena and her owl on its high ceiling. In Greek mythology, Athena was known as goddess of wisdom, but the Romans knew her as Minerva.

For this reason, Minerva's Owl struck me as a most appropriate name for a bookstore, and one I might perhaps visit someday. During my research, I managed to learn its address: 2181 Union Street in San Francisco's Cow Hollow neighborhood, but I also discovered—much to my dismay—that Minerva's Owl is no longer in business.

It wasn't all for naught, however, as I did learn some facts about the shop's history and its co-owner, Carol Field, a woman with a most interesting life. As I ended my search knowing a bit more than when I started, I like to think that Minerva, goddess of wisdom, would have been pleased.

There's more to come in the next dispatch.

©2024 SummitCityScribe

Dispatch #440: Joe Flaherty 1941-2014

 

Joe Flaherty as Guy Caballero, Count Floyd, and Floyd Robertson

I've posted a depressing number of obituaries here over the last seven months—for Allan Asherman, David McCallum, Marty Krofft, Norman Lear, Charles Dierkop, Richard Lewis, Ron Harper, and Barbara Rush—and today's dispatch adds another name to that sad roster: Joe Flaherty.

My life-long love for absurdist humor can be traced back to a few sources: Mad Magazine, Monty Python's Flying Circus, Saturday Night Live, and Second City Television, or SCTV.

In 1981, NBC—looking for a replacement for their late-night Friday concert show, The Midnight Special—slipped a Candian comedy import, Second City Television, into the timeslot. 

At the time, I was already on the lookout for something to tickle my funny bone. Saturday Night Live had just said goodbye to its original cast and creator/producer Lorne Michaels after five seasons, and the early episodes I'd seen from season six weren't very promising. 

ABC's Fridays had shown initial promise as an alternative to SNL, but its quality varied so much from week to week that I'd already given up on it by 1981.

SCTV stalwarts: Levy, Candy, Thomas, Moranis, O'Hara, Flaherty, and Martin.

SCTV, on the other hand, was hilarious right from the start and only seemed to get better each week. Much like SNL's original Not-Ready-For-Prime-Time-Players, SCTV boasted a superb line of comic actors: Eugene Levy, John Candy, Dave Thomas, Rick Moranis, Catherine O'Hara, Andrea Martin, and Joe Flaherty.

Flaherty created a bevy of original characters for SCTV: station owner Guy Caballero, horror-host vampire Count Floyd, talk show host Sammy Maudlin, and news anchor Floyd Robertson—not to mention his hilarious celebrity impersonations like Bing Crosby.

I suppose it was Flaherty's performance as Count Floyd that most endeared me to him. Having grown up with a local horror-host of my own, I just loved it when the Count exited his coffin to introduce a schlocky fright film like "Dr. Tongue's House of Cats."

It takes a lot to stand out among a cast of comedy pros, but Joe Flaherty's SCTV performances—much like those of Phil Hartman on SNL— were always pitch-perfect and hilarious. Fellow cast-member Martin Short referred to Flaherty as the show's anchor.

Mr. and Mrs. Weir

Fifteen years later, when he was cast on NBC's Freaks and Geeks, Flaherty got to riff on his Count Floyd character during their Halloween episode. For this SCTV fan, those appearances as the grumpy but loveable Mr. Weir were usually the highlight of any episode.

Life has its share of ups and downs—sometimes more of the latter—so it's important to laugh when we can. Whenever I needed a chuckle most, Joe Flaherty always delivered the goods. 

You can read his New York Times obituary here.

There's more to come in the next dispatch.

©2024 SummitCityScribe

Dispatch #437: Barbara Rush 1927-2024

Barbara Rush (1927-2024)

After a long life and a remarkable career, actress Barabara Rush has died at 97.

Rush's big-screen co-stars included Rock Hudson (Magnificent Obsession), Paul Newman (The Young Philadelphians), Kirk Douglas (Strangers When We Meet), and Frank Sinatra (Robin and the Seven Hoods). She also had a prominent role on TV's first primetime soap opera, Peyton Place.

As a kid growing up in the 1970s, I hadn't seen any of that yet. Because of my predilection for mystery, horror, and science fiction, I knew Barbara Rush primarily from her film & TV performances in those genres.

When Worlds Collide & It Came from Outer Space

My earliest memories of her are from a pair of classic sci-fi flicks, When Worlds Collide (1951) and It Came from Outer Space (1953), both of which I saw on late-night TV. Rush was especially good in the latter—playing both plucky Arizona schoolteacher Ellen Fields and her alien doppelganger.

Rush with Yvonne Craig (left) and Lindsay Wagner (right)

Later roles such as the villainous Nora Clavicle on Batman and the mystery woman who-may-or-may-not be Jamie Sommers' mother on The Bionic Woman only increased the affection genre fans like me already had for her.

The Forms of Things Unknown (1964) and Cool Air (1971)

I especially enjoyed Rush in spooky fare such as The Outer Limits (The Forms of Things Unknown with Vera Miles and David McCallum) Rod Serling's Night Gallery (an adaptation of H.P. Lovecraft's Cool Air with Henry Darrow) and even a 1972 TV movie about a Bayou Loup-Garou, Moon of the Wolf, with David Janssen and Bradford Dillman.

Rush in Moon of the Wolf (1972)

Beyond those roles, Barbara Rush turned up on scores of other shows I watched back then, including Cannon, Fantasy Island, Ironside, Knight Rider, The Love Boat, Mannix, Magnum P.I., McCloud, Marcus Welby M.D., Maude, Medical Center, The Mod Squad, and The Streets of San Francisco—to name just a few.

Rush was a classy, terrific actress—much better than the material she usually had to work with—but that's why I enjoyed it so much whenever she turned up on the shows I watched—her performance always elevated them.

Barbara Rush (1927-2024) R.I.P.

There's more to come in the next dispatch.

©2024 SummitCityScribe

 

Dispatch #436: It's Impolite to Stare

 

A Total Solar Eclipse

It's been hard to escape the media blitz surrounding the total Solar Eclipse due next week—which will be the last one visible in the contiguous United States until 23 August 2044.

As I'll be long dead by 2044, you'd think I'd be pretty excited about the sky show on 8 April 2024—but how I really feel about it is...meh.

Kids using DIY Eclipse Viewers

In all fairness, I do remember being pretty thrilled the first time I witnessed a solar eclipse. It was 7 March 1970, and my Riverside Elementary classmates and I had been instructed by our teacher on how to safely view the astronomical event with the help of a common cardboard box. 

That Saturday afternoon, I ran out into the side yard, slipped a box over my head, and marveled at the ghostly pinhole image of the sun's corona projected on the cardboard inside. It would be impossible today to replicate the youthful sense of wonder I experienced that afternoon 54 years ago.

Years later, as an adult, I made a point of going outside to witness the colorful Blood Moon eclipse in the sky over Tucson, Arizona on 28 October 2004—a spectacular sight. 

That viewing was a tad awkward, however, because the moon rose directly over the house across the street that night—meaning my neighbors were perturbed to discover me standing in my front yard after sundown, (seemingly) staring toward their home. Their drapes were pulled shut before I could explain my purely innocent astronomical interest.

So, how to explain my general indifference to what's been billed as the Great North American Eclipse of 2024? I suppose comic Jerry Seinfeld, in his 2020 Netflix stand-up special, 23 Hours to Kill, summed it up best:

The Seinfeld Shrug: "I've probably already seen it."

"If I'm walking down the street (and somebody says)—'Jerry, check this out—you gotta see this'...I disagree. I just assume it's probably a lot like something else I've already seen..."

I'm with Jerry on this one. At our respective ages, we've both seen a lot of things in our lifetimes and that includes eclipses. No disrespect meant to Bonnie Tyler, naturally.

 

Trump in 2017: he looked right at it.

At any rate, one thing I'm certain I will never do is stare directly at a total solar eclipse—you'd have to be the world's biggest idiot to do that.

There's more to come in the next dispatch.

©2024 SummitCityScribe

Dispatch #434: Much Better Off

 

Three years ago this week, in March 2021, I was extremely grateful to finally get vaccinated against Covid-19 through my local health department.

On the day in question, I joined a large number of my fellow Hoosiers also hoping to do the same over at the Allen County Memorial Coliseum.

In years past, I'd attended circus performances, hockey games, concerts, and even my high school graduation at the venerable arena, but never a mass-vaccination during a global pandemic.

I remember being quite nervous that day—Covid-19 was killing people all over the world, and I wanted to get the shot before it got me, too. There was also an additional concern—I have allergies and wasn't sure if this new Pfizer shot would trigger any of them.

Those of us with similar concerns that day were instructed to report post-vaccine to a waiting area, where we sat on metal folding chairs for 15 to 30 minutes to see if we suffered any adverse reactions.

Two nurses from the Allen County Health Department hovered nearby to render assistance to those who did feel any ill effects.

I've always liked to diffuse tense or nervous situations with a bit of humor, so after sitting in silence for a moment or two with a dozen or so my fellow vaccinees, I posed a question to one of the nurses.

"I know it's only been a few minutes," I said to her, "and I feel okay so far, but do you think I'll be able to play the piano after this?"

The nurse looked up from her laptop with a reassuring smile.

"Oh, of course," she told me. "That won't be a problem."

"Wow," I replied, "that's great, because I never could play it before."

It took a second for one of the oldest jokes in vaudeville to sink in, but the very calm medical professional eventually laughed.

Immediately afterward, I sensed her sizing me up as some kind of wiseacre (which I am), but after 30 minutes had elapsed and I hadn't turned blue, she graciously allowed me to exit the waiting area.

As I stepped outside the Coliseum that afternoon, I felt a great sense of relief and security—something I hadn't felt in the months since the Pandemic first hit US shores. The little laugh I'd shared with the nurse made me feel better, too, if only as a way to relieve some tension. 

Still, while it's often said that laughter is the best medicine, if the global pandemic taught me anything, it's that there's no substitute for actual science-based medicine. Thanks, Pfizer!

When I first realized this week marked the three-year anniversary of my first Covid shot, I recalled that old campaign slogan: "Are You Better Off Now Than You Were Four Years Ago?" 

Remembering how truly terrible 2020 was: the rampant fear, uncertainty, and death—along with widespread school and business closings—it's incomprehensible to me how anyone say anything but a resounding "yes!"

There's more to come in the next dispatch.

©2024 SummitCityScribe

Dispatch #432: Richard Amsel TV Guide Covers

 

Amsel's Police Woman & Rhoda

Earlier this month, I posted colorful, vibrant TV Guide covers from artists Ramon Ameijide and Bob Peak. Today's dispatch features the work of Richard Amsel (1947-1985).

Amsel at the movies: Flash Gordon & Raiders of the Lost Ark

Today, Amsel is probably best known for his work on posters for blockbuster movies such as The Sting and Raiders of the Lost Ark, but from 1973 to 1985 he was responsible for over 40 covers for TV Guide magazine.

Amsel's Hart to Hart and Shogun

Among the qualities I always admired in Amsel's TV Guide work was his photo-realistic portraits of performers and captivating use of color. 

Amsel's Magnum P.I. & Miami Vice

This talented artist may have died far too young, but he left behind an impressive legacy of artwork. Director Adam McDaniel is working on a documentary about Amsel's life—you can learn more about that project here.

There's more to come in the next dispatch.

©2024 SummitCityScribe