1948-1970 Mom and Me

Posted on August 16, 2024 by Mike

This was the most difficult to write of the hundreds of entries in this project. I decided to set an ending date of 1970 because after I left for the army face-to-face contacts with my mom were quite limited. My dad came to see me when I was working at the Hartford, but it was only for a day at the end of a business trip. Mom stayed home. I don’t remember them visiting us at all for the three years we lived in Plymouth. They both came to Detroit once, and they did not like it at all. After my wife Sue and I moved back to Connecticut they visited a handful of times, but, except for the first trip, they spent most of their time with my sister Jamie and her family.

Sue and I visited them in 1973. After that we were too poor and too busy to travel much until I started flying much more in the nineties. I arranged a stop in the Kansas City area whenever it was feasible, which was pretty often. However, the ones when she was still alive were mostly for parties or other celebrations. I remember very little of the conversation. Also, through much of this period she was reluctant to contribute much.

In fact, I reluctantly admit that the sum total of my knowledge about my mother is pitiful. Dolores Ann Cernech was born on October 2, 1925, in Kansas City. Her parents were John and Clara Cernech. My understanding is that Clara was half German and half Polish. Cernech is a Croatian name. John’s mother was at least partly Irish.

Mom grew up in Kansas City, KS. In 1943 she graduated from Bishop Ward High School, which was less than a mile from the Cernech residence at 40 N. Thorpe. Students in her graduating class were asked to specify who their favorite band leader was (!) and what they hoped to become in life. Dolores Ann Cernech answered “Tommy Dorsey” and “Private Secretary”. The latter seemed like a peculiar response in the age of Rosie the Riveter.

I am not sure how she met my dad, who was a year older and went to high school in Atchison, KS, about fifty miles away. My understanding is that they were already acquainted before my dad enlisted in the army in 1942.

I wish that I had learned more about what my mom did in the period between her graduation and Jim Wavada’s discharge from the army in February of 1946. I have a vague recollection that she had worked in a clerical position somewhere, but she must have been communicating with my dad while he was in the army. They were married on September 1, 1947, which was eighteen and a half months after he was discharged from the army. It definitely was not a shotgun wedding. It was officiated in St. Peter’s by my dad’s brother, whom I knew as Fr. Joe. I did not show up until eleven and a half months later.

What transpired in the year and a half between my dad’s discharge and the wedding? Decades later he disclosed two nuggets of information about that period: 1) Mom’s father was against the marriage, but Clara persuaded him that it was for the best; 2) He might have gotten into serious trouble if he did not get married.¹ He also mentioned something about pinball machines, which in those days were common in bars.

Dolores and Jim took up residence in the Cernech’s house in KC KS. I am not sure if John and Clara lived there at the time. It was not a large house, and I know that at some point John, an employee of the Boss Glove Company, was transferred to Grand Island, NE. I have dozens of questions that I should have asked while they were still alive. Did they have a honeymoon? If so, where? Presumably my dad worked at BMA. Did mom work, too, at first? How did they get around? They did not have a car until 1954.

I have no doubt that my mom ran the household’s finances from day one. My dad was nearly incapable of balancing a checkbook. For the most part she was very frugal at least during the time that I lived at home. My dad bought suits and other dress clothes for work. My mom sewed most of her own clothes.

I am equally certain that my mom took on any task that involve any kind of a machine or any tools. My dad had the least mechanical aptitude of anyone whom I have ever encountered. What about yardwork? The house on N. Thorpe had a very small yard. I doubt that the family owned a power mower. So, somebody must have mowed the grass with an old-fashioned push mower. Uncle Rich might have helped, but my money is on mom. I can’t imagine my dad doing it even once.

Life in KC KS 1948-54

The first big event after the marriage was my birth on August 17, 1948. It must have been a horrific shock for her to see my mangled face. I have been told that the physicians performed the first surgery shortly after birth. There were follow-up procedures before I started going to school and another one after I completed the eighth grade.

My parents almost never brought this up. They had obviously discussed the matter and decided that they wanted me not to fret about my appearance. That certainly succeeded. Very few people whom I have met paid as little attention to appearances as I did.

I remember one trip to the shoe store when I was quite young. The salesman talked mom into purchasing arch supports for my very flat feet. I think that that only happened once. After that off-the-rack was good enough. I did not start using arch supports regularly again until I was in my seventies. Those came from Walmart, cost $10, and could be worn with any shoe or none.

I cannot remember my grandparents ever living in the Cernech house with us. Richard Keuchel², Clara’s youngest brother, lived with us. He kept to himself most of the time, but I remember that he occasionally brought me a small present or gave me some coins for baseball cards.

I vaguely remember mom taking me with her on a few shopping trips. Most of the time she probably walked to Central Ave., a lively retail area just a couple of blocks from the house. We might have taken an occasional bus or “street car” (trolley) as well.

The one type of excursion that impressed me the most was trips to the library. I was allowed to pick out my own books in the children’s section. My tastes primarily ran to westerns. I don’t remember her reading these books to me, but she must have, at least at first. I remember also that I had a rather large book that had fables in it. The only one that I recall was about an ant and a fiddle-playing grasshopper.

My recollection, which is probably at least a little off, is that I had the run of the neighborhood by the time that I was four or five. I am pretty certain that I walked to both kindergarten and first grade, and I remember spending a lot of time with my friends in the neighborhood. I don’t think that I was allowed to cross the alley in back of the house by myself, but I remember playing with friends up and down N. Thorpe Street. I also remember our telephone number, FAirfax 9890.

I remember attending several weddings and funerals of mom’s relatives. However, we had no automobile. Maybe those took place after we moved.

Did my mom have any friends? I don’t recall any. She knew everyone on N. Thorpe. She grew up there. Someone told me that she selected one of her classmates from Ward High to be her maid of honor. I have a photo of the wedding, but the people are not identified. I think that the same lady might have been my godmother, but she did not have any role thereafter in my mother’s life.

Maybe looking after me was all that mom could handle. Four instances came to mind that might have made her wonder what she had gotten herself into:

In addition to all of the trips to the hospital, she also arranged sessions for me with a speech therapist. This was apparently in anticipation of difficulties in speaking due to the amount of plastic in my upper lift. I don’t remember ever having trouble articulating, and I did well in the formal presentation required by the therapist.
I related the story here about the rock-thrower whom I beat up in kindergarten. I received no punishment that I remember. Mom and the teacher explained that what I did was wrong, but I don’t remember their reasoning. My reasoning was that “he had it coming.” In westerns this happened to people all the time.
One morning I made a scene at Mass because The Lone Ranger was on television³, and I did not want to miss it. I think that mom had to escort me out of the church on that occasion, but I am only guessing.
The problem that I had with the box of letters in first grade is also documented here. I would really love to know what mom thought when the nun informed her that I seemed incapable of reading and writing.

The only other vivid memory that I have of life on N. Thorpe was of mom painting a fruit tree freehand on one of the walls in the kitchen. Everyone praised it. In retrospect it made me wonder what else she could have accomplished if she were not so devoted to our small family. Unfortunately I inherited my artistic ability from Jim.

There might have been some trips. I think that the two of us took a train trip somewhere in the south. Clara (and maybe John) may have also been along. It seems to me that we spent some time in Hot Springs, AR. I am pretty sure that we also visited mom’s relatives in the Dallas area either on that trip or a separate junket. The mother’s name was Jule Palmer or something like that. Either or both of these might have been after the move, but I don’t think so.

Mom loved animals. I remember a dog named Trixie, which was, I am pretty sure, Mom’s pet before she got married. Trixie must have died before we moved. I have no recollection of her at our new house. I am pretty sure that we also had a pet parakeet named Mickey before we moved. Someone taught him to talk, probably mom.

Prairie Village

I found a set of four photos developed at Katz drugs, which was near our house in PV. They were dated Easter 1955. The other three are also at a train station, and they all include a couple whom I don’t recognize.

In early 1955 the three of us moved to 7717 Maple, Prairie Village, KS, about twenty miles south of the house on N. Thorpe. In addition to setting up a household in a suburban location, mom almost immediately had to deal with my childhood illnesses—chicken pox, measles, and whooping cough—that I contracted one after another. Fortunately, that was pretty much the last time that I was sick until I contracted the Russian Flu during exam week in college.

Evidently mom’s father did not think much of the blue house on Maple St. He called it “a cracker box.” My dad told me much later that my mom uncharacteristically retorted, “Yes, but it’s our cracker box.” Well, theirs and the bank’s.

I remember that mom took me to the doctor to receive the smallpox vaccine. I have always hated the idea of injections, and I dreaded this. I had to return for a second (and maybe a third) vaccine because the first one “didn’t take.” The second one did not either. I never got that little volcano-shaped scar on my arm. For the only time that I can remember mom took me aside and told me in a deadly serious tone that I must NEVER forget what she was about to tell me. If ever there was another outbreak of smallpox, it was critical for me to receive the vaccine again.

I spent no time in the hospital while we were living in Prairie Village, but I spent a lot of time at the doctor’s office. I ran into a shopping cart at the grocery store one day. It did not require stitches, but the mark is still visible just a quarter of an inch from my right eye. I ran into a parked car on the lot of Queen of the Holy Rosary during recess. I dodged the tag, and the nineteen stitches in my mouth were a badge of honor. I got four more stitches when I ran into the barbecue grill in our backyard while catching a popup that my dad threw to me. While returning a punt on the football field my nose got smashed and bent a little. On all of these occasions mom drove me to see Dr. Battey, our family physician. On one of the later occasions he told her that my head was held together by catgut.

I almost forgot one incident. Mom insisted that I take the free swimming lessons offered at the PV public pool. I rode my bike to the pool for the morning lessons. One day a German Shepherd came running out of a house on my left, growled, and chomped me on my leg. Someone called mom, and she came and got me. I don’t know how many stitches were required. The dog did not have rabies or anything else. He just got loose that day.

I hated the swimming lessons because I got so cold that my teeth chattered. Also, that was where I realized my footprints looked like they were made by a duck with toes. However, I later was glad that I learned how to swim.

When my myopia became evident in the third or fourth grade, mom took me to the optometrist. Since then I have seldom been seen without my specs unless I was in water or playing football.

My mom drove me to many activities. While writing this I began to wonder when and how she learned to drive, and how she got her license. Maybe she learned before she got married.

Aside from my tendency to run full-speed into inanimate objects, I did not cause many problems for her. She never helped me with homework, but I didn’t need it until I got to the chain rule in calculus class. She didn’t need to nag me to do it. I got tired every evening and voluntarily went to bed at about the same time. She never had to wake me for school. I was usually awake before she was. I took the bus to school, and I was always ready and waiting for the Bluebird.

What she did help me with were projects. I remember that we had to make a map of a state or country out of papier mache. I picked France. I was making a big mess of it until she stepped in. She also helped out with my years in scouting. She was an excellent den mother for a while; all the guys said so. When I had trouble growing bean plants for the Nature merit badge, she gave me a tip (I don’t remember its nature) that allowed me to succeed. She also made a costume of St. Peter for me for wear for an all-saints version of Halloween.

In retrospect I find it incredible that she was willing to get up to drive me to Queen for the 6am Masses for which I was a server and then pick me up when it was over. She also carted me around to sporting events. I often stayed after school (and therefore missed the bus) for band practice or great books or safety patrol or scouts or the school newspaper or football or basketball. Sometimes I walked home, but at least half of the time I engaged mom’s taxi service.

I do not remember Mom giving me much advice beyond basic Catholic principles. However, I very clearly remember her reaction when I got into a fight with Michael Bortnick. He was my age but considerably bigger. I came into the house crying and told mom that he beat me up, and he was bigger than I was. She merely replied, “Then you should have avoided fighting him.” I remembered that and applied it with great success throughout my remaining life..

As soon as I was old enough I got to play on a team in the local 3&2 baseball program that served as a Little League for Johnson County, KS. The team was sponsored by Sunflower Drugs. I undoubtedly made the team through the intercession of Don Wood’s father. This was the last summer before I got glasses. I was a good fielder and base runner, but I batted .000. I only hit the ball once—on my very last at-bat.

The next summer I did not make the team. I was ready to quit baseball, even though I really wanted to play. I was even more depressed than I was when I missed a catechism question in second grade (described here). I was totally unprepared mentally for failure.

My mom told me that I should not quit; there were plenty of other teams. It was good advice. I somehow learned about the team sponsored by Bauman’s Red Goose Shoes. I had a good time on that team, and I even got quite a few hits.

Mom did not like the idea of me playing football in the seventh and eighth grade, but she allowed me to go out for the team. Even after she had to take me to the doctor after I got clobbered on a punt return, she let me continue. It meant a great deal to me.

I remember that for a short period we (I am not sure if Jamie was involved) spent a few minutes every evening reading the Bible from start to … well, I think that we finished Genesis before the project was abandoned. I would love to have heard that decision being made.

Like millions of other Americans our family owned a nicely bound Bible with those incredibly thin pages. Ours, of course, was the Douay-Rheims version, which is the only English version recognized by the Catholic Church. It had a dozen or so brightly colored illustrations. I don’t know what happened to it.

My mom was friendly with all of the neighbors, but the only ones that she socialized with were the Leahys. I remember that once when I was in second or third grade she was late getting home from somewhere. For perhaps the only time ever I was all alone after the school bus dropped me off. I started crying, and Jean Wallace, the lady with three kids of her own who lived directly across the street, calmed me down.

At some point we procured a phonograph player and a few records, probably 78s, which in those days were made of very brittle shellac. My dad’s favorite song was Eddie Fisher’s version of “Oh, My Papa”. I was playing it one day. When I took it off the turntable, I dropped it, and it broke. I was very upset, but mom consoled me.

The only television shows that I remember my parents watching were Your Hit Parade and Perry Como’s show. As the English say, my mom fancied Perry. We watched a lot of other shows, too, but none of them stand out in reference to my mom.

When she was working, which seemed to be doing all of the time, she often broke into a song. The one that she sang the most was the Andrews Sisters’ version of “Dance with a Dolly”⁴.

Jamie

One day shortly after we moved to PV my parents announced to me that they were “praying” to have another child⁵. I thought that this was a great idea. I would have a baby brother whom I could boss around and eventually teach “the ropes”. Imagine my shock when dad told me that mom had given birth to an girl on January 4, 1956. Did they actually pray for a girl? Why?

Jamie was nothing like me. Her face was decidedly not mangled. By the time that she was a few years old she had blonde hair⁶. Even I thought that she was good looking. Furthermore she avoided crashing into objects much better than I did. Her visits to Dr. Battey’s office were always routine.

I was approximately seven and a half years older than Jamie. I figured that she could figure out pat-a-cake on her own, and so I mostly ignored her. However, we often watched Captain Kangaroo and Romper Room together before I went to school.

The fact that mom had another little one to mind nearly all the time that I was in grade school made it even more remarkable that she was willing to drive me to all my activities. I think that it also explained why she let me roam the neighborhood with no evident supervision. She even let me shoot off firecrackers on the Fourth of July.

Decades later Jamie told me that as she was walking to kindergarten at Tomahawk School some older boys accosted her. I had heard nothing about this, but I was often oblivious. I wonder what I would have done if I knew about this. I would have been in the eighth grade, at least two years older than anyone at Tomahawk.

I remember that I asked mom one year whether I could help with playing Santa Claus on Christmas eve. She let me do it. I don’t remember any details.

Our pets have been discussed in some detail here. My mother’s role was central. My dad had no use for animals. He was obviously either fearful of or disgusted with them to an extent that I never saw in any other person. Mom made sure that they were

Mom handled the tricky situation that begin with the appearance of a dachshund (eventually named Sam by me) with no tags brilliantly. She allowed him to go back to his owners on his own, but for some reason he seemed want to stay at our house. She advertised somewhere that we had him, and eventually someone claimed him. Jamie was crushed, and I was also upset, but mom explained to us that we had no right to take him from the other family.

My grandmother Hazel came to the rescue by giving us her pet dachshund Tippy. However, he seemed to want to spend most of his time with me.

Leawood

At the end of the 1961-62 school year the Wavadas moved south and east a few miles to 8800 Fairway in Leawood. Once again we were in a new parish, Curė of Ars. Jamie started grade school in September at C of A, and I started my freshman year at Rockhurst High School. So, this was a new experience for everyone.

I don’t recall having many conversations with my mom. I cannot remember asking her any probing questions. My recollection is that on most days she worked pretty much from the time that she got up until the supper dishes were in the dishwasher, and all of the food and accoutrements had been put away. The one major incident in my youthful life that she had to deal with was the time in 1964 when she had to accompany me to traffic court. Nothing came of it, but I did grow up a little bit that evening.

My mother was a great cook. We enjoyed delicious meals almost every day except, of course, on Friday. My parents decided that instead of eating out occasionally, we would have steak on Saturday evening. My dad grilled them over charcoal on the patio in good weather. If the weather did not allow that, mom broiled them. My favorite meal, by far, was fried chicken⁷. We had it once a week, usually on Wednesdays.

I was not big on breakfasts. Cereal usually sufficed for me. A special treat was “pigs in the blanket”, which were link sausages baked inside of biscuits that had been folded over them.

My lunches were the envy of everyone in my classes. Usually I had a ham sandwich, an apple or other fruit, a small bag of chips, and a thermos of soup. Most kids had to put up with cheese sandwiches or PB&J with little or no variety. I went to a Catholic school; many of those moms were making at least a half dozen lunches. In high school I usually ate lunch in the cafeteria.

Trips

My dad worked in the sales department at BMA. Every few years my dad and mom would take a business trip together for big meetings. They were generally at a resort or in the vicinity of special events. They were usually gone for the better part of the week. Sometimes they hired someone to take care of Jamie and me. I had very little interaction with these women. I remembered that the suppers that they prepared with uniformly disappointing.

I found four photos that were labeled “Easter 1957” by the company that developed them. At the time I was finishing second grade, and Jamie was a little over one year old. They show my mom and dad stepping onto a train. Based on her outfit, this must have been a business trip on which she joined him. Someone must have taken the photo. I am guessing that it was Clara Cernech. She probably took care of us while they were gone.

My mom did not regale us with tales of these adventures. I remember that she was most impressed by the one in Banff, Canada. I have no recollection of her talking about any of the other places, and I doubt that I pestered her for details.

Details about our family vacation trips have been provided here.The four of us took one big vacation to the east coast while we were living in PV. Mom took over the driving for a part of the trip. That was the only time that I ever saw my dad riding shotgun. Most of her time was spent with Jamie, who was only three or four years old. Our other trips were usually to Minnesota. Mom must have enjoyed the breaks from cooking and cleaning, but she mostly seemed to busy herself with other things.

Health

My mom was in good shape. She did not smoke. She drank very little, and ate mostly fresh foods in moderate amounts. She also exercised. I remember her watching Jack LaLanne and his dogs, Happy and Walter. I never partook of these activities, but I remember being awestruck when Jack nonchalantly did vertical pushups on a step on a ladder.

She also played golf a little. She played with my dad and me a few times, and while I was waiting to get drafted we played as a twosome. I think that she played with other ladies off and on. She was a good athlete, but her golf swing got worse the more that she played. In the end she bounced her torso up and down on every swing. This peculiar motion made it very difficult to hit the ball cleanly. I always suspected that advice from my dad was responsible for the degradation of her game. I don’t know how much (or even if) she played after I entered the army.

She wast 5’7″, which was considered quite tall in the forties. She was skinny enough to be nicknamed bird-legs in high school. She never got fat or even a little pudgy.

I only remember mom being sick a few times, mostly during the Christmas season. Overworking and the pressure probably got to her. She did have a few issues. Her “sinuses” bothered her a lot. She took Dristan tablets for the “sinus headaches”, but they did not help much. I also remember some kind of saltwater purge that she did. When my dad quit smoking many years later this issue disappeared almost immediately.

She also suffered from varicose veins. I don’t know any details. She might have also had diabetes. I know that her mother did. Mom never complained about anything, and she never let any symptoms slow her down.

When she was in middle age she started to have problems with memory and confusion. It was not Alzheimer’s, but the doctors never were able to pinpoint what caused her so much difficulty. My dad said that she asked him one time, “Jim, what did I do wrong to deserve this?” Of course, he had no answer.

When she died in 1998 (described here) my dad did not request an autopsy to determine what the source of her problems was. I rather hoped that he would, because I wanted to do something about it if I inherited it. I am older when I write this than she was when she died. So, I guess that I did not get it.

The biggest regret in my life is that I squandered the opportunity to know this wonderful woman better.

What I inherited from my mom:

Skin color
Hair
Build
Social reticence
Love of music (but different taste)
Work ethic
General demeanor
Aversion to arguments
Early bird.

1. The fact that I asked no more questions is, to me, convincing evidence that I must be somewhere on the autism spectrum. I have never asked people about their lives. Although I have always been good at remembering names, I almost never remember the names of relatives of acquaintances, even if I have seen them many times. For example, I have a great deal of difficulty remembering names of members of Sue’s family. I know my own cousins, but I could not name any of their children. It never really occurred to me that I was excessively solipsistic. I just considered myself less nosy than most. In my defense I always try to think of the potential effect on others before I do something, and I never deliberately do anything that might inflict pain on someone else.

2. Uncle Rich apparently died in 1972. My recollection is that he worked for a company called Gustin Bacon Mfg. that manufactured pipe joints and, for a time, air horns for trains. I have no idea what he did there. I also don’t know if he remained in the house on North Thorpe after the Wavadas moved south in 1955.

3. I don’t know when we purchased the TV, but I was a big fan of the Howdy Doody Show, and I am almost certain that I watched Hopalong Cassidy, which only ran until 1952. I cannot picture our television in the house on N. Thorpe, but we must have had it there.

4. This was a bizarre song: three women fantasizing about dancing with another woman. “All the fellows wishing they were me.”

5. This naturally raises the question of whether my parents employed birth control. The Church has never sanctioned anything besides the “rhythm method” for birth control. If that was what they did, they were certainly good at it. I was conceived a little over two months after their marriage. Jamie was conceived shortly after they moved to a new house with a spare room.

6. It turned quite a bit darker by the time that she went to school.

7. When I started cooking for myself I almost immediately tried to fry chicken. I never got it quite right. It is difficult and time-consuming. The spattering of grease makes a mess. I eventually just gave up. It did not seem to me to be worth the effort.

8. In my dad’s estate I found a used ticket for Super Bowl III and one for the Rose Bowl in 1970 that featured Michigan and Southern Cal.

1992-2014 TSI: AdDept Client: Neiman Marcus

Posted on July 6, 2021 by Mike

The store with only two sales per year. Continue reading →

My recollection is that the first inquiry from Neiman Marcus came in early 1992 On the other end of the phone line was the manager of the advertising business office. Although I worked with her pretty closely for a fairly extensive period of time, I don’t remember her name.

She must have responded to a mass mailing that I sent after the installation at Hecht’s was under control. I addressed those letters to advertising directors. So, the advertising director must have given it to her. In our telephone conversation she explained to me how they did things at Neiman’s. I told her that I thought that our system could help her with some of their problems. I then sent her materials about how AdDept worked and tried to relate aspects of AdDept to Neiman’s situation.

She asked us to pay them a visit. I arranged for Sue Comparetto and me fly to Dallas to meet with the potential users and to do a demonstration for them at IBM’s local office. The business office of Neiman’s advertising department was on one of the upper floors of the company’s flagship store on Main Street.

When we arrived there I was surprised to find that the rest of the advertising department would not be involved in the discussion. Although Neiman Marcus was still using the system in 2014, I never spoke with anyone from the rest of the department. They used an advertising agency for most of their advertising, including newspaper ads. In fact, the lady that we were dealing with did not even want the rest of the department to have access to the system. She really just wanted a system to keep track of expenses and co-op.

The stores only had two sales per year— First Call in February and Last Call in August, or maybe the other way around. They used the traditional 4-5-4 retail calendar (described here) with which we were already familiar, but Neiman’s first month was August, not February.

My AdDept demo needed a major change of emphasis. I usually emphasized that the main reason for a centralized database was for everyone to take advantage of work done by others. She did not want the others involved at all. Also, the most impressive part of the demo was how quickly a newspaper ad could be scheduled. She had little interest in that task, which was the agency’s responsibility. Nevertheless, the reaction to what I showed was quite positive.

After the demo Sue and I rented a car and drove to Austin for a little R&R with Marlene Soul, one of her friends from high school. She was, if you can believe it, a consultant in feng shui, which she claimed was mostly about being organized.

Marlene took us to a comedy club in downtown Austin, which was definitely a swinging place. I also remember sitting around at her house while she tortured her cat with a long flexible semi-rigid wire that ended with a feather. The slightest twitch made the feather jump and fly.

I made a note to myself to buy one of these when I arrived back in New England so that I could use it to drive my cantankerous cat Woodrow crazy. I did, and it did. He had to hide under the couch so that he could not see it.

The following morning we went birding with Marlene and a group that met every Saturday morning. I was exceptionally bad at it. I have had poor vision since the third grate, and I have always been notoriously bad at finding things anywhere. However, this gathering did spark enough interest in me to become a little more knowledgeable in ornithology.

Upon returning to the office I spent a couple of days putting together a detailed proposal for Neiman Marcus. It did not include as much custom programming as usual. The main objective was for the AS/400 to be able to generate a file to be used by the expense payable system on the mainframe.

The business office manager accepted the proposal a short time after receiving it. I sent her a software contract, which she signed. I then ordered the hardware and system software from IBM and we received an installation date. I knew that we would not have the interface done by then, but we would need some data to test the interface anyway, and there would be no data on day one.

From our perspective this was by far the easiest sale that we had ever had, and the installation, which took place in August of 1992, also went rather smoothly. I had to spend quite a bit of time fine-tuning the coding for the incredibly complicated interface with their corporate financial system. I did not care. I loved to do that kind of work because, once it was in place, the chances of them scrapping the system were minuscule¹.

People in the IT department², however, were furious that the lady from the advertising business office had signed a contract with TSI without consulting them. They were nice enough to me, and they were quite cooperative about establishing the interface between the two systems. However, her career at Neiman Marcus did not last long after AdDept was installed and working smoothly.

The key to the success of the installation was effecting the financial interface. It involved a considerable amount of two-way communication between AdDept and the corporate mainframe. Gary Beberman, who had been TSI’s liaison for the first AdDept installation at Macy’s East (described here), was extremely effective as the go-between for TSI and the mainframe programmers.

I found this list of the steps involved in a document written in 2000:

1. A list of general ledger accounts is downloaded. AdDept’s general ledger account table is updated.
2.A list of departments with the accompanying hierarchy is downloaded. The department table and the rest of the hierarchy is updated.
3. Expenses are uploaded to the accounts payable system. The accounts payable system feeds the general ledger.
4. Co-op transactions are also uploaded to the accounts payable system. The accounts payable system feeds the general ledger.
5. General ledger transactions in the advertising accounts are downloaded at the end of the month. An AdDept program compares the downloaded transactions with the uploaded transactions. A list of exceptions is printed. Additional transactions are placed in a batch file, which can be converted to real AdDept transactions.

The walk down to Dealey Plaza is an easy one.

I made a fairly large number of visits to Dallas during the installation period. Thereafter, a few years would sometime go by between requests for visits. Here are a few memories that I have maintained of those trips.

Neiman’s flagship store at Christmas time.

In the nineties I spent a lot of time in the American Airlines section of the DFW airport. My favorite restaurant there was a Mexican cantina.
I also spent a lot of in autos driving between the airport and either Dallas or Fort Worth, where TSI had several clients. Sometimes I took a cab; usually I rented a car from Avis.
On my first solo trip to Neiman’s I was a little late and a little lost. I crossed Main Street in the middle of the street. A cop stopped me with every intention of giving me a ticket for jaywalking. I was polite, however, and he let me go with only a warning.
One of my early visits was in December during the running of the Dallas Marathon. I went out for a jog and watched some of the real runners near the finish line. This must have been on a Saturday or a Sunday.
The temperature on that day was around 30. I was wearing stretch leggings, shorts, a tee shirt, and a nylon jacket. Most of the real runners were wearing shorts and singlets. At Neiman’s on Monday the business manager, who was a originally from Pittsburgh, confided to me that she and her husband were concerned about whether the cold weather might harm their child if they let her play outside. She admitted that no one in Pittsburgh would have thought twice about their kids being out for hours in such weather.
On another occasion I walked to the State Fair grounds on a Friday evening. I was surprised to discover thousands of people celebrating Juneteenth. I had never heard of this event before.
One summer evening after working at Neiman’s I took a stroll down to Dealey Plaza, which is the the location of the ramp to I-35. I wanted to conduct a personal investigation of the interchange, the “grassy knoll”, the Texas Book Depository (which had been converted into a museum), and the other locations associated with the assassination. A few minutes earlier the fatal presidential motorcade had passed right by Neiman’s flagship store, which is .6 miles from the plaza.
One day after the system was operational the business office manager drove me to lunch for some authentic Texas barbecue. I cannot say that I was very impressed. I have never understood the idea of cooking all of the flavor out of meat just so it could be coated with barbecue sauce.
Neiman’s made a big deal out of Christmas. Not only did they publish their famous catalog with one outrageous gift idea, but they also sponsored an evening in which their VIP clients could shop without dealing with the riffraff. The store open that evening only to those who were sent an invitation. Each was assigned an employee to tour the store with them. I am not sure what the employees were expected to do. I looked for members of the Ewing family, but I did not see any.
On my visit on September 9, 2000, the temperature reached 109°. It was also the thirty-fifth day in a row with no rain. That was the day that I understood why the streets in Texas are almost all concrete, as opposed to asphalt. Anything that was paved with asphalt turned gooey when the temperature got that high.

I did not actually work with most of the subsequent Neiman’s employees enough to burn in lasting memories. I did find some notes that provided me with some information on some of them;

I was surprised to discover that many of the successors to the female business office manager mentioned above were Aggies, that is, graduates of Texas A&M. The first was Jeff Netzer³, who worked at Neiman’s from 1996-1999. He called TSI a few years later when he was employed at Sewell Automotive Company. I saw Jeff there when they invited me to assess the possibility of us designing a system for this company. This experience is described here.
The second Aggie was named Brian Harvey⁴. He worked in the advertising department from 1998-2000. I met him in 2000, but I don’t remember him.
After Brian’s departure the advertising business office was run by Alea Montez. I remember that she called the office for support several times. I don’t think that I ever met her.
The last Aggie was Brian Davis⁵, whose title at Neiman’s was Media Analyst. I don’t remember him at all. I don’t think that I ever met him in person.
A striking omission in this list is everyone in any other area of advertising. I never succeeded in interesting anyone in even considering what TSI had done for so many others in similar positions.
I had quite a bit of contact with a number of IT people at Neiman’s. I met a few in person, but I don’t remember any names.
In the 2000’s Neiman’s hired an AS/400 consultant to help them with connectivity and to upgrade their system. We had a good relationship with him, but I don’t remember his name.

1. In fact, the AdDept installation at Neiman’s lasted longer than that of any other client. Part of the explanation for that was that Neiman’s was one of the few AdDept clients that was not bought out by another company. When we closed TSI’s doors for the last time in 2014, Neiman’s was still using AdDept. For all that I know, it may have continued after that.

2 The IT people worked in a building in Las Colinas, a few miles from the flagship store in downtown Dallas. I went there a couple of times and met a few people there.

3. Jeff Netzer’s LinkedIn page is here.

4. Brian Harvey’s LinkedIn page is here.

5. Brian Davis’s LinkedIn page is here.

1977-1980 Part 5: Other Activities

Posted on March 21, 2021 by Mike

Sue and I had a pretty full life outside of the Wayne State Forensics Union. Continue reading →

Sue’s Jobs

Brothers Specifications: One of the main reasons that we moved to Detroit from Plymouth was so that Sue could be closer to her job at Brothers Specifications. The company employed a diverse group of people to provide detailed information to the federal department of Housing and Urban Development about abandoned houses in Detroit. Unlike virtually every other local enterprise, as Detroit’s deterioration increased Brothers’ business improved.

The founder and president, Bob Begin¹ (accent on first syllable), was a former Catholic priest. Several other employees were also formerly part of the Catholic clergy. In a way, Brothers was a lot like the Wayne State Forensics Union (FU). Many social activities designed to promote camaraderie among the employees occurred. Most of these people knew how to party.

Sue and I both bowled on a team in a league that included a lot of Brothers people. I do not have strong enough wrists to bowl very well, and so I was often frustrated. Sue was good friends with a young woman named Carol Jones who worked at Brothers and was on our team. She threw a very slow back-up ball, the first that I had ever seen.

Carol got married to a guy named, I think, Jim, who was a designer or engineer for General Motors. We went to their wedding, and Sue took a lot of photos. Here are a few of them.

We went to see Close Encounters of the Third Kind and The Empire Strikes Back with Carol and her husband. In both cases Sue and I had no idea what either movie was about. We both like Encounters better. Of course, our opinion might have changed if we had seen Star Wars².

Sue was riding in Carol’s car one day when their car was T-boned at an intersection by another vehicle. Neither Sue nor carol was injured, but it was a scary situation for them. The car that hit them was fleeing the police. The people in the car had guns, and the police had rifles. The cops screamed at Sue and Carol to take Carol. Just another day in Detroit. Other scary situations are described here.

Brothers also had a slow-pitch softball team, and they let me play on it. I no longer had my magical swing from the days of the Mean Reserves, but at least I got some exercise. We played our games at Softball City, a huge complex at 8 Mile and State Fair. Our manager was Frank Yee, Sue’s boss.

This is the signal that tells the runner to stop at the base he is on or approaching.

I remember one event very vividly. At the time I prided myself on being a smart base runner. Frank was in the coaching box near third base. I was on first base when someone hit a line drive to the outfield. As I ran to second I saw that no one could catch the ball on the fly. I rounded second. Frank gave no signal, and so I kept going. As I approached third base, Frank stuck out his right hand toward home plate.

Everyone who has ever watched a baseball game at any level knows that there are three universally recognized signals for third base coaches: 1) Both hands up: stop here; 2) Both hands down: slide and stop here; 3) Windmilling with one arm: keep running past this base. Holding out one hand means nothing. Never has; never will.

I kept going and was tagged out. Frank reproved me. “You missed the sign.”

I was furious at him. If he did not know the signals, what was he doing in the coaching box? After a few games I stopped taking it so seriously. We had some talented players, but some guys on our team did not even understand the rule about “tagging up” after a fly ball.

I found a photo album of Sue’s time at Brothers. Here are some samples.

Sue made two good friends at Brothers, Paul DesRochers (pronounced like Durocher) and Eddie Lancaster. We visited Paul several times for supper. He introduced us to rib steaks, which, at the time were much cheaper than T-bones or porterhouses. He also taught us about heating up plates before putting hot food on them.

Eddie was a big guy and an athlete. There was a volleyball net in the side yard of the building that housed Brothers. One evening after work Eddie and Sue were playing on the same team, but he accidentally smashed her in the face and broke her nose. I had to take her to the Emergency Room. Trust me; Emergency Rooms at Detroit hospitals in those days were not pleasant places.

After Eddie left Brothers he moved to Brooklyn. In 1981 he invited Sue and me to his Halloween party there. We decided to attend, even though it was a long drive from our house in Rockville. Sue dressed as Peter Pan, and I came as a nerdy college professor, i.e., sans costume. I cannot say that I enjoyed it much. Hanging around with drunk strangers in costumes was not my idea of fun.

Highland Park is a rhombus bordered on all sides by Detroit.

Gene and Henry: At some point in 1979 Sue tired of working for Frank. She accepted a position at a company run by two guys named Gene Brown and Henry Roundfield. They had both been salesmen for IBM who had decided to work as semi-independent agents specializing in marketing the low end of IBM hardware. Their company had a name, but I don’t know what it was. In the late seventies they sold a few 5110 computers³ together with IBM’s Construction Payroll package to local bunsinesses. Their offices were in an abandoned auto dealership in Highland Park, MI.

Gene and Henry did not seem to anticipate that their operation would require much technical knowledge. After all, IBM’s ad for the computer quoted a user who claimed, “If you can type and use a hand-held calculator, you have all the skills necessary to operate a 5110.” The company had two other employees—a part-time young man who liked to play with the code and a secretary/receptionist named Bubbles whose previous experience was at a topless joint.

They hired Sue to help their customers make necessary changes to their software, which was all written in the BASIC programming language. She soon determined that there were a few problems. One of their customers also wanted some accounting software. Gene and Henry had the customer license the general ledger and accounts payable software sold by AIS, a software development company based in Overland Park, KS, the town in which I had gone to grade school. Gene and Henry also installed this software in other systems that they sold, but they did not purchase additional licenses from AIS.

There was one additional problem. If anyone ever changed any of the code, as was easily done on the 5110, it almost certainly violated the license agreement. The young man whom Sue replaced had modified the programs, and Sue was expected to do the same.

No developer would fix any problems if the code had been modified without an open-ended purchase order. Even then, the customer’s problems will be the developer’s lowest priority. No one wants to clean up someone else’s garbage.

Gene and Henry had quite a few customers, but many of them were unhappy with the software. Sue’s job was to learn the two systems and make the customers happy while Gene and Henry … well, I don’t know what they planned to do.

Eventually Gene and Henry realized that they were in over their head. Before the customers began to get the tar and feathers ready, they offered Sue a proposition. She could set up her own company as a programmer who maintained the systems. They would give all of their customers to her. She could even have an office in their lovely headquarters in the murder capital of the United States. Sue decided to go for it. She registered a DBA for TSI Tailored Systems⁴, an entity that survived the dog-eat-dog environment of software development for thirty-five years. Sue then purchased a used steel credenza and somehow transported it to the office in Highland Park.

Sports

Jogging: Throughout our time in Detroi. I jogged a few miles two or three days per week pretty consistently whenever the weather permitted. Wayne State had a jogging track. When I ran there I often saw a professional boxer (whose name I don’t remember) work out there. He ran about as fast as I did, but he had weighted gloves on and punched the air as he ran. Debbie McCully ran on the track with me there a few times in the summer of 1978.

Sometimes I just ran around the streets adjoining our house on Chelsea. Occasionally I ran in Chandler Park. Once I stepped in a hole there and turned my ankle. I had to limp home. That was not fun.

Golf: I played golf at least once with Scott Harris and his father. Scott and I might have also played together once.

I played once with Kent Martini and, I think, Jerry Bluhm, as well. I remember that Jerry remarked that he had never seen anyone swing as hard as I did. I am not sure that that was meant as a compliment.

Baseball/Softball: I played one season on the team sponsored by Brothers Specifications. I have a vague recollection of substituting once or twice on the team that Debbie McCully’s boyfriend played on.

I am pretty sure that I went to one Detroit Tigers game in Tiger Stadium. I don’t remember who was with me. The Royals might have been the opponents.

Football: I saw the Lions play once in the Silverdome in Pontiac. It was more like going to a movie than attending a football game. I did not feel like I was in any way involved in the action. Even the games in the old Municipal Stadium in Kansas City were more intense. I don’t remember who won the game that I viewed or even who played against the Lions.

I did not attend any Wayne State football games or U-M games. I was still addicted to watching the Wolverines on television whenever they appeared.

Cars

My recollection is that both Greenie and Sue’s Dodge Colt went the way of the Dodo in 1979. Greenie was fine if I could get it started, and I brought it in several times to address this issue. The repairmen were stumped. In the end I paid $50 to have it towed to a junkyard. Sue put at least two new engines in her Colt before it threw its last rod.

This Duster does not look at all familiar, but I know that we had one like it.

Sue bought a gigantic Plymouth Duster. Unlike our previous (and subsequent) cars, this one had automatic transmission.

I don’t know why Sue bought it. Neither does she, but she thinks that someone must have given her a deal. Also, it was considered a good idea to own an American-made car in Detroit in those days.

My most vivid memory of this beast was the time that I had to change its right rear tire in a sleet storm on a steeply sloped ramp of an exit from the Ford Freeway. It kept falling of of the jack. Although I did not get injured, I was definitely not in a good move when I finally reached home.

Trips and Visits

Bettendorf is the lighter area on the right. The red arrow points to the Tall Corn Motel’s location in Davenport

At some point my sister Jamie got married to Mark Mapes. They lived in Bettendorf, IA. They had two daughters together, Cadie and Kelly. I think that Cadie was born on October 31, 1977. Kelly was a couple of years younger.

Jamie once told me that she had invited me to her wedding, but neither Sue nor I remember receiving an invitation. We did get an invitation to come visit them in Iowa. We did so in (I think) either the summer of 1979 or 1980.

We took the Duster, and Sue did most of the driving. Our clearest memory of the trip is the motel that we stayed in. It was called the Tall Corn. We stayed one or two nights.

I think that Cadie was an infant. I don’t remember if Kelly was around yet. it seems to me that we attended some kind of athletic contest, but the memory is very dim.

The gigantic menu of the Golden Mushroom.

I think that after the visit we drove directly back to Detroit. We did not make a vacation out of it.

My parents came to visit us once in Detroit. They liked our house a lot, but they did not like the neighborhood at all. They were visibly upset at the loops of piano wire that several businesses had put on the fences surrounding their property and the bullet-proof cashier’s cages. Neither of these was commonplace in Leawood, KS.

I am pretty sure that the four of us drove to the Renaissance Center, where my parents could feel a little safer. We may have even gone inside one of the towers.

I remember that we also drove up to Southfield to the Golden Mushroom for supper. Since Debbie McCully waited on us, I think that this visit must have occurred in 1978. She got all of our orders right without writing anything down. My parents and I were very impressed that she could do this. I don’t remember what I ordered, but I do recall that it was delicious.

On at least one occasion we visited Damon Panels at his home in one of Detroit’s northern suburbs. I remember him telling me that he did not know whether anyone had paranormal powers, but he was certain that nobody who had them had ever been on the Tonight Show. He gave me a short rendition of how he had watched Johnny Carson and James Randi foil Uri Geller in a live performance.⁵

I bought Randi’s book about Geller and devoured it. I was astounded. Before he became world-famous for his amazing psychic powers Geller had been a professional magician who performed many of the same tricks. Not only that: the guy who helped him with his magic act later assisted with his psychic miracles! Clearly Geller was (and still is!) a fraud.

I did some more reading on the subject, and it had a profound effect on me. I not only stopped believing in psychics. I stopped believing in anything. I stopped going to mass cold turkey. One Sunday I went; after that the only time was for my relatives’ funerals. I became a dyed-in-the-wool skeptic. I took a first-negative approach to life. I say “I think …” a lot but almost never “I believe …”

Damon also came with us on a visit to Greenfield Village, the open-air museum built by Henry Ford in Dearborn. We had a very pleasant time there.

We made one trip to Enfield to see Sue’s family. I think that we took a commercial flight to Hartford from Metro Airport. We stayed a week or so.

By that time Sue’s sister Karen had married Buzzie LaPlante and had just given birth to their son, Travis. Sue’s dad, Art, had purchased a CADO computer from Desco Data Systems⁶ to use in their businesses in which Karen was employed. Art asked us to help Karen get it set up and functioning correctly.

Sue and I took a look at it, but its approach was so different from what we were accustomed to that it was difficult for us to be of much assistance.

The system that they bought had very little RAM, maybe only 3K! Each program module therefore had to be very short, and dozens of modules had to be linked one another to get anything done. Debugging was virtually impossible without a map of how the modules were connected. It seemed very primitive to us.

I am pretty sure that we flew back to Detroit in Art Slanetz’s airplane. It was fun to fly in his plane. I remember that we had a very good view of Niagara Falls.

The only scary part was the landing at Detroit City Airport⁷. Art just sort of positioned the plane at a forty-five degree angle from the runway and let it fall. Although this was not the primary airport for the Detroit region, it was a lot busier than the one that Art was accustomed to using. He made some kind of mistake, either in not notifying someone or not doing it the required way. After he landed the guy in the tower made him report there. Art was definitely embarrassed.

I think that Art just gassed up his plane and flew back to Connecticut. I have no recollection as to how Sue and I arrived back at our house, but it was a short drive. Maybe we took a cab.

But what about the pets? Since we took an airplane to Connecticut, we could not have brought them along.

We still had Puca, but he was not a major concern. He had gone without food and water for longer periods than a week. Besides, who could we ask to snake-sit? I don’t remember if we had any mice at the time. I certainly did not kill any, and I also don’t remember releasing any. We would not have left them with anyone, and we would not have left them alone in the house either.

We certainly had some guinea pigs. I am not positive, but I think that we gave away at least two of the baby guinea pigs to a Filipino family that Sue knew from her job at Brother Specifications. Sue doesn’t remember his last name, but the people at Brothers called him Fil. I think that we might have left Charlie and Loretta with Fil’s family event though Sue was afraid that they might eat them.

We kept in touch with Elaine Philpot after we moved to Detroit. Sue often went to see her perform, and I went with her when I could. Elaine and her daughter also came to visit Sue one time while I was on a debate trip. Sue took some photos.

Food

Most of the time Sue and I ate at home. We had to drive a long way to get to a decent supermarket, but if we only needed one or two items, a local market was less than two blocks away. We took turns cooking. We bought a small hibachi that we used when we wanted steaks or hamburgers.

For fast food we went to Taco Bell or KFC, but our favorite local place was on Gratiot Avenue, the weird street that runs at a forty-five degree angle to all the others. This small restaurant had no waitresses. You ordered your meal at a counter behind which or four roasts—beef, pork, chicken, and ham—that they would slice to order. The also had a selection of vegetables, breads, and desserts. It was simple but delicious.

Once when we reached the front of the line I spotted a mouse on the counter near a juice dispenser. I consulted with Sue as to whether I should seize it by the tail—I was quite adept at the maneuver—and show him to the staff. She advised against it, and I concurred.

The best thing about Detroit was its restaurants. There were outstanding restaurants of every description in the area. I am sure that we must have occasionally stumbled into a restaurant with mediocre food, but I cannot remember ever having done so.

The best pizza restaurants were Shield’s and Buddy’s (as described here), but we enjoyed really good pizza at several other locations as well.

For Mexican food it was worthwhile to make a trip to the area of town that we called Mexican Village, which is also the name of the largest and oldest restaurant there. We usually patronized another smaller restaurant in Mexicantown, as it is apparently now called. I don’t remember the name. We also frequented a less authentic establishment in Livonia. The attraction there was the strolling mariachi band.They even had a trumpet player. Sue liked to sing along to Cielito lindo.

The other ethnic attraction was Greektown. At least four or five Greek restaurants that fiercely competed for patronage. They were all good. We definitely had a favorite, New Hellas⁸. Sue was in love with the moussaka that was served there, as well as quite a few other dishes.

Greektown has changed dramatically in recent decades. The local establishments have been outnumbered and outflanked by chain restaurants. The proximate causes of these changes are Comerica Park, home of the Detroit Tigers and a towering casino that dwarfs the traditional two-story buildings. I don’t think that I would recognize the area at all.

Parties

When Sue was working at Brothers Specifications, she sometimes invited people over to our house on Chelsea. This usually occurred when I was out of town.

I threw two parties for members of the FU in the basement of our house. The theme of one of them was “Once a novice always a novice.” Everyone was invited to tell the most embarrassing story of his/her experience as a novice on the debate circuit. I told about how my knees knocked together in my first high school debate. It was a victory, but it was followed by fourteen consecutive embarrassing losses with at least two different partners. I think that the people in attendance voted someone’s novice story as the best, but I don’t remember the details.

The big event was my thirtieth birthday party. I sent invitations to everyone in the FU. The theme of the party was that since I was turning thirty, I could no longer be trusted. The attendance was good. I got some cool gifts, including a framed portrait and an action figure of Wonder Woman, both of which still adorn my office. The star of the party was Debbie McCully, who showed up in a Wonder Woman outfit.

There are photos of this event somewhere in our current house. If I locate them, I will post them.

I bought myself a present on that same day, the “Basic Set” of Dungeons and Dragons. The game became something of an obsession with me and a lot of my friends, as is described here.

Television

Sue and I did not watch a great deal of television while we were in Michigan, but I remember that we got hooked on at least four of them (in addition, of course, to the two Wonder Woman shows).

The first episode of Dallas was aired on April 2, 1978. I am not certain that Sue and I watched it, but I am quite certain that we watched most of the subsequent 356 episodes. For us one of the highlights was the theme music played at the beginning of the show. I always whistled along and most of the time at least one of the guinea pigs would whistle with me.

My favorite character was the patriarch, Jock Ewing, with his gigantic Lincoln Mark V sporting the EWING 1 license plate. My favorite line occurred when J.R. was about to crush Cliff Barnes: “You’ve got to leave a man some dignity, J.R.”

The worst moment in the show’s history was when Bobby Ewing was brought back with the explanation that the previous season was a dream.

One benefit of living in the Detroit area was that the strongest television signal came from the Canadian station CKLW. We found a few interesting shows there and one outstanding one, Second City Television, also known as SCTV. This show had many outstanding comedic actors, most of whom went on to enjoy stellar careers in the U.S. Most people whom I knew in Detroit never watched CKLW. I told many of them about SCTV.

My favorite characters were the McKenzie Brothers, Moe Green with his “Dialing for Dollars” quizzes, and Bobbie Bitman, the sideman who became an acTOR and a direcTOR. Our favorite line was John Candy’s, “It blowed up good; it blowed up real good.”

The public television station carried episodes of Monty Python’s Flying Circus. This was another show that I discovered on my own while desperately spinning the dial while searching for something watchable. I alerted many people to the brilliance of the Pythons.

There were many recurring bits that I loved. Some, such as “The Larch”, were never explained. Others, like the tennis-playing blancmange, were beyond ridiculous. At the time my favorite was probably the “Ministry of Silly Walks”. I had a tee-shirt that portrayed it. A woman once saw it and mistook me for a missionary.

Over the years, however, the “Spanish Inquisition” sketch (another tee shirt) has proven to have had the biggest effect on my life. My all-time favorite line on any show was “No one expects the Spanish Inquisition! Our chief weapon is surprise, fear and surprise; two chief weapons, fear, surprise, and ruthless efficiency! Er, among our chief weapons are: fear, surprise, ruthless efficiency, and near fanatical devotion to the Pope! Um, I’ll come in again…”

Everyone loved Saturday Night Live. I thought that the quality fell off after the first few years, but Sue still watches it with great regularity.

My all-time favorite television episode was on none of those shows. It was episode 8 of season 4 of the Bob Newhart Show, “What’s it All About, Albert.” Bob’s first patient, Mr.Carlin, has reverted to his original symptoms. Bob is ready to quit his practice, but instead he seeks out his mentor, Dr. Albert, played by Keenan Wynn with a white beard. He claims to have discovered the secret of life. Bob takes out a notebook and pencil. “Golf,” says Dr. Albert. “G-O-L-F, golf.”

1. In 2020 Bob Begin and his family had for over three decades been running a winery and bed-and-breakfast in Old Mission Peninsula the long narrow strip of land north of Traverse City that separates the two bays. You can read his story here.

2. In 2021 I still have not seen it.

3. Details about the 5110 can be found here.

4. The first year of TSI is explored here.

5. The whole painful event can be viewed on YouTube here.

6. Desco had a building in the industrial park in which I ran after work at TSI. The building was left unoccupied for many years after Desco went out of business. I don’t know the current status.

7. In 2003 the name of the airport was changed to Coleman A. Young International Airport. That is quite a mouthful for an airport that in 2021 has no scheduled commercial flights. It is still listed as an asset on the city’s books, however.

8. The New Hellas in Greektown closed in 2008. An unrelated restaurant with the same name subsequently opened in Farmington Hills.

Wavablog

Memoirs, bridge, popes, travel, and other stuff

Tag Archives: Dallas

1948-1970 Mom and Me

1992-2014 TSI: AdDept Client: Neiman Marcus

1977-1980 Part 5: Other Activities