I would have called it: Mi Chiamo Jack Vance. Ecco la Mia Storia.
Motivation: The primary inspiration for this monstrous undertaking was Jack Vance’s remarkable autobiography, This is Me, Jack Vance! When the pandemic suddenly endowed me with an unexpected surfeit of leisure time in the spring of 2020, I read many books. One of the best was the Italian version of Vance’s award-winning autobiography. Three things impressed me the most about the man and his work:
Jack Vance was such a cool guy. He did so many interesting things (including cheating on his eye exam to get into the Navy), and he and his wife took truly amazing international vacations.
Vance was tremendously talented, and not just as a writer. Even more impressive was his discipline. He wrote most of his books when he ran out of money on extended vacations! He could sit down in an exotic location and churn out four thousand words a day. His wife typed up his output as fast as he could write it. He evidently sent his second drafts to the publisher, and nearly all were accepted.
He dictated his autobiography when he was in his nineties and BLIND! He must have relied almost entirely on his memory; his friends and colleagues were almost all dead when he started the project.
When it became evident that the pandemic would be around for months, if not years, In June of 2020 I realized that I had been accorded a unique opportunity to attempt a huge project. The idea of trying to document my own life in a thorough manner took root in my imagination. I had often claimed that I had a million good stories. In the beginning my primary objective was to assure that as many of those amusing anecdotes as possible were recorded while I could still remember them. I had no doubt that many people and events had already faded from my memory or morphed into something that no longer resembled reality. Even so, I felt compelled by fate to transcribe as many as possible as accurately as possible.
I started with my Army days. So many utterly bizarre things happened in those eighteen months that I wanted to write about them before more memories became blurred or distorted. My biggest regret in life—bar none—was my failure to keep a journal when I was in the Army. I certainly had plenty of free time. I had no social life; I played golf, but my evenings were almost always free. I even had a typewriter. It just never occurred to me to write about my experiences.
After completing a few blog entries about my heroic stint defending the country, I wrote about my last undergraduate semester at the University of Michigan. This was one very painful entry that I just wanted to get out of the way.
I soon became enchanted with the process of researching and writing. I no longer just wanted to retell humorous anecdotes. I thoroughly enjoyed digging up references to familiar people and events and reliving ancient memories. I set up a timeline in a spreadsheet and gradually filled most of it in. From that point on, I have released entries in a close approximation of chronological order.
The Format: I did not spend much time mulling over how to present the text and images. Wavablog, the collection of my blog entries on Wavada.org that use WordPress, seemed like an obvious choice for such an open-ended project. The other possibility would have been to use the same php1 format that I developed for my journals and other writings. The biggest advantage of WordPress was its ease of tagging names and other items for cross-referencing. I would have needed to write a lot of code to duplicate this feature.
Some aspects of WordPress annoyed me. Its WYSIWIG format provided no easy way to handle footnotes. I seem to be unable to write without them, and my php functions make them easy. WordPress allows user-defined functions, but I don’t see how they could be used for footnotes.
I never seriously considered changing formats after I started. WordPress was adequate for what I hoped to accomplish.
Sources: Since I had not kept in touch with anyone from my grade school, high school, undergraduate days (except my collegiate debate partner, Bill Davey) at the University of Michigan, or the Army, I had very little to supplement my memory concerning the first twenty-four years of my life.
I certainly wished that I still had my yearbooks from eighth grade and high school. I don’t remember discarding them. It is possible that my mother threw them out when she cleaned out my room while I was in the Army. I know that she threw away my collection of baseball cards, and my saxophone also disappeared. There was not much chance of finding a copy of either of them online. My grade school doesn’t even exist any more. Rockhurst High School is flourishing in 2021, but I could find no trace of the 1966 yearbook on the Internet.
Even so, I think that I remembered the names of most of my fellow students in both my grade school and high school classes. It helped a lot that I took classes with mostly the same people throughout, and we sat in alphabetical order in almost all classes.
Wayne Miller helped me with my debate-coaching days at Michigan, and Scott Harris helped with the Wayne State period. Don Ritzenheim’s dissertation was also a valuable source of information.
I expected to find a great deal of information about the early days of our software company, TSI, by rummaging through our basement. My wife Sue never throws anything away unless it has rotted or is covered with mold. However, my search yielded very little that was of much use. So, either Sue squirreled a lot of files away somewhere else, or I did not investigate all the containers in the basement, large areas of which are virtually impenetrable.
Some of the more impenetrable areas of the basement.
I found on my desktop computer files containing dozens of business emails and my many trip reports from the period of 1999-2009. I also found all of the communication concerning the attempt to sell the business in 2010.
Images: I bought Sue a camera in 1973. She used it a lot for decades. I expected to find a large number of photos (or, even better, CD’s that contained photos) in the basement. I found a couple of albums that she had forgotten about and a few loose photos, but I never located the mother lode.
I used a series of disposable cameras to take a lot of photos of our first trip to Italy in 2003. They have been missing since shortly after the trip. I certainly did not throw them out. They almost certainly were stuffed in an envelope, bag, or box and now languish in a pile of junk somewhere. Also missing are the numerous photos that Sue took of that first big tour that we took.
The missing cable should be to the left of the one shown on the old hard drive that sits atop my desktop computer.
These three failed searches were the biggest disappointments of the whole undertaking. Close behind was my inability to find many electronic photos that I took with my two point-and-shoot cameras from 2005-2009. The files were lost when the hard drive on my laptop crashed. I had hopes that they might be on a very old external drive that for years had been plugged into a USB port on my computer. However, the device had a DC-in interface, but I located no such power cable. Furthermore, the company that marketed the drive in the U.S. for its Chinese manufacturer appeared to be out of business.
The good photos had been removed from the tan envelope shown here and filed before this photo was taken.
The most exciting discovery was an interoffice mail envelope that had been buried on a shelf in my office. They were beneath some three-ring binders and 9″x12″ envelopes that contained items from various trips. The envelope contained hundreds of photos that I had taken with disposable cameras in the late nineties and early two-thousands. About half were shots of employees at TSI’s AdDept clients, and some even had notations on the back identifying the people in the photos by name.
Whenever I found appropriate photos that Sue or I had shot, I used them in the blogs. Otherwise, I often looked on the Internet for whimsical or instructive illustrations. If I used something that I shouldn’t have, I will gladly donate a portion of the profits of this tome to a mutually agreeable charity.
I suspect that a cache of photos of the Wavada family is taking up space somewhere in our house. My family did not take a lot of photographs, but I remember that my mom kept a stack of them in the drawer of a round table in the living room. If I come across any, I will try to integrate them into the appropriate blog entries.
“Where are they now?”: I googled nearly everyone mentioned in any blog entry. If I could find any information about them, I included it, usually in a footnote. I tried to contact a number of friends and acquaintances. Only a few responded, but it gave me great joy to hear from them.
Of course, some of the people that I mentioned have died. The life expectancy of a male born in 1948 is only 73.1 years. If I make it to the end of September 2021, I will be in the upper fifty percentile.
1. My journals and books have been posted using programs that I wrote in php, a scripting language used to produce HTML code. The name of the language is an abbreviation of “personal home page”. It allows someone to produce web pages in almost any format, but getting started with it is not for the faint of heart. It was really designed for people who knew C or C++. I don’t, but it was close enough to BASIC that I managed to teach it to myself with a lot of help from online manuals and fora.
Throughout my life I had enjoyed playing board games, especially war games made by Avalon Hill. However, it was always hard to find people to play with. I read an article about Dungeons and Dragons (D&D) in a magazine in late 1977 or early 1978. The game sounded very intriguing, but the article did not make it very clear exactly what it entailed. There did not appear to be much to it, but apparently in some locations people became very involved in the game.
On August 17, 1948, my thirtieth birthday, a day on which I was already scheduled to have a big party in the evening, I drove to a toy store, located the basic set of Dungeons and Dragons, and bought it. It was not expensive, and the box was not very heavy. When I shook it, something rattled a little.
When I got home I opened it and was a little disappointed. There was no board and no game pieces. The box contained only five dice of different shapes and colors and a forty-eight-page book of instructions. Each die had a unique number of faces: 4, 6, 8, 12, and 20. These were to be used to determine random results for different types of events. Eventually it became pretty clear that the primary purpose of the dice was to provide some substance to the “set”. All that the game really required were the rules, a great deal of imagination, and some way of generating random numbers.
Ah, but the rules. The basic concept of the game was simple. One person served as the referee (called the Dungeon Master or DM). Before the players arrived, the DM needed to spend some time drawing a map on graph paper and creating an outline of the adventure. Many adventures were traditionally underground, but they could just as well be in a castle, a ship, or anywhere else.
I was hoping for weightless +10 mithral armor in XXL.
The various rooms (or caverns or holds or whatever) might be empty, might contain innocuous items, or might contain treasure. Some of the valuables might even be magical (or cursed, for that matter). However, danger lurked everywhere in the form of monsters, evil-doers, and traps. The DM would most likely need to make on-the-spot decisions about unexpected activities from the players, but the more details that were planned in advance the better. It was also a good idea for the DM to have some “random” events ready in case the adventurers dawdled.
To get the adventure going the players need some way of learning about the dungeon. Non-playing characters created by the DM could often fill this role, or it could be arranged that they could find an ancient scroll or something.
Not this kind of elf.
Players had to prepare, too. Each controlled one or two characters. The characters’ abilities (strength, intelligence, wisdom, dexterity) could be generated using six-sided dice. Their endurance, measured in “hit points”, was also determined by rolls of the dice.
Dwarves were short, tough, and cheap. Negotiating a price was called “dwarfing him down”.
Players were allowed to choose the class (fighter, magic-user, cleric, or thief—more came later) and race (human, elf, dwarf, half-elf, half-orc, or halfling) and alignment (lawful or chaotic, good or evil) of their characters. Magic users and clerics could memorize a spell or two. Some races had special abilities or limitations. Every character was born with a little money with which to buy some weapons, armor, and supplies.
Nobody won an adventure, but it was possible to achieve a goal that made some or all of the characters stronger. It was also possible for characters to die.
Spells were definitely useful, but the magic-users’ aversion to armor led to a high mortality rate.
Players were not required to disclose any of their characteristics to the others, but every character had to persuade the others that he/she would be a valuable addition to the party. Recalcitrant characters could and sometimes did say no.
So far, so good. I constructed a little dungeon, and I invited Sue, Vince Follert, and the Benoits to play it. I tried my best to decipher the rules on movement and battles, but it just seemed like the monsters—even the ones that were just powerful humans—moved in slow motion while the party members dashed around and slaughtered them. After a few adventures the players were so powerful and rich that they could take on almost anything,
After the first few games, I knew that something was wrong. The players enjoyed the games, but the battles were not close to realistic. Outcomes were never in much doubt. I read and reread the rules. You can read them yourself here. Take a look. The rules for time and movement are on p. 9. Can you figure them out?
These were helpful.
I started to frequent a hobby store on Gratiot Avenue. It sold inch-high lead figurines as well as issues of Dragon magazine and some pamphlets containing details of dungeons or whole campaigns that experienced players had designed. I invested in all of these. The purchases of the magazines and pamphlets were a good idea, but the figurines were a mistake. Anyone who spent a lot of time painting figurines wass going to be very upset if the character died, and a crucial element of the game is the belief of the players in the mortality of the characters. It is what gives the edge to the game.
The first edition of the Player’s Handbook was published in June of 1978. I was not able to lay my hands on one until several months after that. The confusion about movement and how battles (called “melee” in D&D) should be refereed was cleared up by this work. I read it from cover to cover many times, and I had at least a dozen pages tabbed for quick reference.
The quality of the writing in this book was much better than the rules for the basic set. The illustrations were also marvelous.
The Dungeon Master’s Guide was published in 1979. I preordered a copy and picked it up the day that it arrived at Comic Kingdom. The clerk told me that all of their copies were sold the first day. I don’t remember what the book cost, but it was definitely worth it. Everything about the game now made sense. The quality of the adventures that I designed improved enormously.
The Dungeon Masters Guide was also great fun to read. At least twenty pages of mine were tabbed for easy reference.
There was still one problem. The original characters that played in our early adventures were were much too powerful. Their participation in those “Monte Haul” games had left them so rich and powerful that they could no longer sensibly play with inexperienced characters. Superman never took Jimmy Olsen on adventures.
The Monster Manual was useful mostly for generating ideas. A DM who used one could show the illustration instead of trying to describe it.
I did not set out to solve this problem, but … In one of the games in late 1978 or 1979 I designed a White Dragon named Frix. For some time I spread fables and stories about his enviable treasures and his awesome super-cold breath. One day a group of the rich and powerful characters assembled a small party and decided to go after Frix.
The adventure started in the usual way. Once in the cave complex, the party ran into a few squads of orcs and the like. They quickly disposed of them and made their way down to the fourth level, which their informant had told them was the abode of the great white dragon. The party found the lair and then burst in without taking any precautions.
I rolled a die to see whether they had surprised Frix. It wasn’t likely. At least one of them was clanging around in plate mail a hundred feet beneath the ground and they talked to one another constantly. So, Frix struck first with his frigid breath. They rolled saving throws, but, alas, they all were frozen to death.
The maps of the city and its environs were about thirty inches on a side.
None of them took this well, but a couple of weeks later Vince, one of the participants, asked me if they could have avoided the peril if they just had asked their cleric to memorize the Resist Cold spell instead of the Cure Light Wounds spell that clerics always used. When I admitted as much, he conceded that they were all idiots and deserved to die.
In a way they became legendary, not for their accomplishments in previous dungeons but for their arrogance and lackadaisical preparation in the last one.
Every building was numbered on the detailed map of the city
I came across The City State of the Invincible Overlord, a publication of the Judges Guild, at Comic Kingdom, and I bought it. It had detailed maps and descriptions of the contents of nearly every business in the city. I bought a lot of 5″x8″ index cards and a box to hold them. I made one card for each business so that I could rapidly find them. From that point on, I started every adventure that I created with the characters at an inn in the city. After the original encounter with the proprietor, another customer, or an employee they could walk to other buildings to purchase gear or ask for information. Setting all this up took a lot of time, but it worked well.
My file had a card for every building in the city.
The next major step was a gigantic one. At some point in late early 1979 Sue obtained an IBM 5120 computer for her business, TSI Tailored Systems. How she managed this is explained here. I took advantage of this to write a few BASIC programs that really enhanced the experience of D&D get-togethers both for the players and for the DM.
The fist program automated the process of generating a new character. The player entered a number. The program used the number as the seed for the built-in random number generator and produced a list of the character’s ability scores. The player could save or reject them. If the scores were accepted, a permanent record was made. This program greatly accelerated the process of getting a new player ready for the first adventure.
The next step was to allow the editing of the player record to reflect advancement to higher levels and other important changes. A sheet of green-bar paper that contained almost all of the personal information needed for an adventure could then be printed out for each player.
The final step was the program to assemble a party. When all of the characters had been entered, a printout was created that had information that the DM needed for each player in an easy-to-read format. This dramatically reduced the time spent paging through the handbooks looking for tables.
The last program was the simplest. It just provided a way of printing up a set of rumors to distribute randomly to the characters.
D&D was a lot more fun with these programs. They cut down on the drudgery and left more time for the adventures. No one ever complained about them.
Our basement was an ideal location for an adventure. The DM sat on a stool behind the bar. Their were couches (well, actually one was the back seat of an old Mercedes) and chairs aplenty for the players. People brought their own drinks and snacks.
Sue sometimes played. Her principal character was a cleric named Sr. Mary Chicos, named after a former nun who worked at Brothers Specifications. She also did some work on an adventure featuring Massai warriors, but I don’t think that we ever played it.
A lot of students from Wayne State’s Forensics Union played. In addition to the people mentioned above, the group included Mike Craig and a friend of his who ate an enormous amount of snacks. In other circles the players “crawled” dungeons, but Mike introduced the phrase, “Let’s dunge” to our group. Jo Anne might have come once or twice. Nancy Legge, Gerry Cox, and Mark Buczko were definitely regulars. Kim Garvin came once. I think that Scott Harris also played at least once.
I am sure that there were other participants. A professor in the speech department attended one adventure, and he brought his son. They chose not to play, but they observed for hours.
I don’t remember too many details of the dungeons that I created. I remember one in which the players discovered a space ship. It was not much fun.
I spent a lot of time on the one that the speech prof attended. The characters needed to arrange passage on a ship to get to an island owned by a witch. Fortunately they did not select the boat with the lowest charge. They might have spent the rest of the time looking for Davey Jones’ locker.
When the party arrived at the island, the witch gave them a quest and promised to reward them handsomely if they succeeded in killing her rival, a frost giant. There were two possible approaches to the cave in which her enemy lived; The Path of the Forlorn was full of traps, and the Path of the Misbegotten was subject to attacks from monstrous creatures. The party chose the monster route. The witch, however, insisted that the group’s most fit participant (as measured in hit points) stay behind with her to keep her company. She was SO lonely. So, the party’s best fighter missed the most importantUr part of the adventure.
My favorite part of the dungeon was the entrance to the giant’s lair. It was a sheet of ice thirty feet long at a forty-five degree angle. It was not easy to escape from this place in a hurry. The group did a good job of dealing with the obstacles, and they won the prize. The poor guy who was left with the witch had to be carried to the awaiting ship by the exhausted adventurers.
I liked to play in the adventurer’s groups occasionally. I had six characters that I remember. My original character was Prufrock the cleric. I think that he had a magic hammer. I had two female characters. Kithra was obviously based on Wonder Woman. Her first purchase was high hard boots. Tontonia was a half-elf with a much less dynamic personality. Urgma was very stupid but a strong fighter who was comfortable taking orders. Pslick was a magic user who also had some “psionic” powers. He was also a wise guy. Gubendorf was a thief. He was so obnoxious that he was killed by his own party at the end of his first adventure.
A teenager named James Dallas Egbert III was in the news in 1979-80. He was described as a “genius” or “child prodigy” who was majoring in Computer Science. For some reason he was living in his dorm room at Michigan State in the middle of August in 1979. Then he “disappeared”.
His parents back in Dayton, OH, somehow heard about D&D and the steam tunnels. They thought that he might have been killed by a D&D cult acting out fantasies in the tunnels. They told their theory to the newspapers and hired a private detective.The news reports emphasized two things. 1) JDE3 played D&D; 2) He and some friends explored the steam tunnels in East Lansing. They speculated that he and his friends were acting out an adventure, and he was killed either accidentally or as a sacrifice to Asmodeus (do NOT say the name out loud or you will immediately summon him, and he is NEVER in a good mood).
Suedomsa backwards.
The detective never found him (but he did find a book deal). JDE3 eventually called the detective and told him that he had taken a bus to New Orleans, where he was NOT developing a D&D campaign based on voodoo or Mardi Gras. The detective tried to talk JDE3 into returning home to Dayton, but that was never going to happen. Instead JDE3 tried unsuccessfully to kill himself twice. He succeeded the third time when he used a gun.
I smelled a rat in this story from day 1. First of all, if he was a computer genius, why was he going to a state-run ag school? What was wrong with MIT or Cal Tech?
Second, why did he not go home for the summer after his freshman year? Most students are eager to compare experiences with their old high school buddies.
A great place to stage an adventure.
Third, I knew a group of guys who messed around in the steam tunnels in Ann Arbor. If I had been running a D&D campaign in those years, a few might have played in it. However, we would never have played in the tunnels. The reason is simple. There is no light. D&D requires lots of reading and mapping. The two activities are totally incompatible. I have never been in the steam tunnels of East Lansing, but I doubt that they are large enough for bugbears, much less giants, djinn, or dragons. Students might have discussed what an adventure in a tunnel would be like, but they would never act it out in such an unwieldy environment. A hero needs room to swing that two-handed sword and enough light to identify his foe.
Finally, it just seemed obvious to me that he had run away. Something must have been going on at home. It turns out that he was gay. When I was a freshman at U-M, my parents suspected me of being gay or on drugs or something because of the way that a friend (without my permission) answered my phone in the dorm. My mom and dad flew up to Ann Arbor to check out the situation. I would bet anything that JDE2 made some kind of threat that caused JDE3 to think that East Lansing would no longer be far enough away from his parents.
A similar take on this sordid tale can be read here.
After we left Detroit I played D&D a few times. When it appeared unlikely that I would have any further use of my materials, I gave them to Sue’s nephew, Travis LaPlante.
The resolution for 1979-1980 was: “Resolved: That the federal government should significantly strengthen the regulation of mass media communication in the United States.” Once again the resolution was much more limiting than the ones of the middle 1970’s. In the fifteen elimination rounds at the NDT the affirmative teams won eight debates, and the negatives won seven.
The coaching staff was quite different. Vince Follert left for Western Illinois. The Benoits also moved on. Jack Kay earned his PhD and accepted a job at the University of Nebraska. I don’t remember if Sheri Brimm was still around. Tuna Snider, Ron Lee, and Gerry Cox joined the staff.
As in the other years, it was all hands on deck for the first couple of months. We spent a great deal of time working with the inexperienced novices in order to find compatible partners and to get them reasonably well prepared for the novice tournament sponsored by the Michigan Intercollegiate Speech League.
I think that Gerry Cox mostly worked with the novices. The only one with significant high school experience was Dennis Corder.
We also reprised the trip to Ann Arbor to research in U-M’s libraries. I don’t remember who came, but the productivity matched the standard set in the previous year.
Varsity: Kent Martini and Chris Varjabedian graduated. Kevin Buchanan returned to the team, and George paired him with Scott Harris. I don’t know why George skipped over Mike Craig, who had had an excellent year in 1978-79 and had also displayed a great attitude. Maybe it was because neither he nor Scott had been a second negative at Wayne State. At any rate, Mike debated with Dave Debold all year.
Someone entered the ZSR library to study and left with a new (to him) cowboy hat.
I do not remember many specifics from this year. I remember only one tournament that I definitely attended, Wake Forest. I do not remember how we did. What I do remember is that I left my cowboy hat in the Z. Smith Reynolds library there.
I don’t remember what specific cases the Wayne State debaters defended during the year. I do, however, remember the one run by the Sutherland twins who debated for Louisville. Their case was about free speech and the cable television industry that was still in its infancy. I judged them on their affirmative several times. and I always voted for them. So did a lot of other judges; no one was surprised that they received a first round bid to the NDT.
I noticed that the second affirmative for Louisville always gave heavy emphasis in the 2AC to a piece of evidence that had seemed innocuous when it was read in the opening speech. Someone on the Wayne State team found the original source for this quote, and I worked with them to develop a sophisticated block of arguments about it. This foiled their strategy. We never lost to Louisville again.
The other popular case that I remember was one that banned billboards. They supposedly caused “blight” and traffic accidents. I thought back on how much I loved Burma Shave billboards and the countless roadside signs for Wall Drug. Also, we would never have made that pleasurable stop at Reptile Land in the previous year if those ads were banned.
These advantages certainly seemed as real to me as the alleged problems, but I could think of no persuasive way to turn them into debate arguments.
Scott and Kevin had a great year, from start to finish. They earned the distinction of being the first Wayne State team to receive a first round bid1 to the National Debate Tournament, which was held at the University of Arizona. Going into the tournament they were the ninth-ranked team in the country.
Mike and Dave also had a good year. They became the fourth consecutive team from Wayne State to qualify for the NDT at the District 5 tournament. So, in my six years of coaching at U-M and Wayne State, seven of my teams qualified for the NDT, and five teams made it through districts. The one team that did not qualify barely missed after going 0-8 the year before. I was definitely a better coach than I was a debater.
I got to attend the tournament, too. I had seniority, but I had been in the doghouse academically for several months. I knew that George would go, but if he brought anyone else, I thought that it would be Tuna or Ron. At this nationals I spent a lot of time judging.
The adventure of flying to Tucson is described here.
This photo is from 1970 at UA.
We had a great time in Tucson. The weather was fantastic, and the atmosphere at the university was invigorating after nine months in the cold in Detroit. Young men and women were playing Frisbee in shorts and tee shirts on the lawn of one of the buildings. One morning I went on a jog with Scott and Dave. We even persuaded George to take us to an authentic Mexican restaurant for supper one evening.
Scott and Kevin qualified for the elimination rounds with a 6-2 record. Scott was the #8 speaker in the tournament. Unfortunately, the guys were upset in a 3-2 decision by two ladies from Southern Cal even though Wayne State was on the affirmative. I don’t remember Mike and Dave’s record, but I think that they finished near the middle of the field.
I don’t know how George finagled it, but Scott (partnering with Dave Debold) also won a first-round bid to the 1981 tournament. He and Dave were again 6-2, and Scott was the #2 speaker. Wayne State won its octafinal round, but fell to Pittsburgh, the eventual champions, in the quarterfinals.
I was very happy to read in the NDT book for 1981 that Kim Garvin and Nancy Legge also debated at the NDT that year. I wonder what happened to Mike and Kevin. Kim and Nancy also attended the 1982 edition of the tournament.
1. In two consecutive years, 1967 and 1968, Wayne State was exempted from qualifying for the NDT because its team had debated in the final round of the previous year’s tournament. First round bids were first implemented in 1973.
The debate topic for 1978-1979 was: “Resolved: That the federal government should implement a program which guarantees employment opportunities for all United States citizens in the labor force.”
My recollection of this entire year is spotty. I don’t even remember any specific cases that debaters were running. That word “guarantee” was pretty constraining. Anyone who did not like economics was in for a long year. The national unemployment rate at the time was about 6 percent, but it was slowly decreasing.
As in the previous year all of the coaching staff (except George) spent the first few months working with the novices. I don’t remember any details at all.
The varsity team largely remained the same. Debbie McCully did not exactly graduate (as explained here), but she was no longer associated with the team. Kevin Buchanan was still in school, but he decided not to participate in debate. Chris Varjabedian rejoined the team. George paired him with Scott Harris, and they were clearly the top team all year long. However, Mike Craig and Kent Martini also had a very good year.
All of the debate coaches returned from 1977-1978. Sheri Brimm was added.
The top novice team was Dave Debold and Kim Garvin. They were also quite an “item” for most of the year.
The team did not go to Camp Tamarack in 1978. I am not sure why not. I don’t remember anyone discussing it. I offered to organize a research trip to U-M for the varsity debaters. George deemed it a great idea. I drove a group of the debaters to Ann Arbor. It was probably on a Sunday; Saturday in the fall is devoted to football at U-M. I showed everyone where the libraries were. We then split up, researched for a few hours, and then gathered for lunch. Afterwards, people changed locations and continued researching. Everyone had a pretty good time, and a lot was accomplished. The debaters were a little overwhelmed by the amount and quality of materials available at U-M. I knew very well that there was a lot more within a mile or two, but I did not rub it in.
The social side of Tamarack was replaced by a Halloween party. It is described here.
Varsity: I must have gone to other tournaments during the course of the year, but the only one that I specifically remember is when I accompanied the two top teams on the “Florida Swing”. Scott, Chris, Mike, Kent, and I piled in a van supplied by the university’s motor pool and set off on I-75 for Tallahassee, the home of Florida State University. My recollection is that George made arrangements for us to stay overnight in his favorite “ma and pa” motel in Tennessee.
Everybody on the trip was quite serious about the upcoming debates. Quite a bit of productive work got done. Even so, it was an awfully long time to sit in the car.
Despite the backbreaking drive the debaters did well at FSU. I think that Scott and Chris made it to the final round. Mike and Kent also qualified for the elimination rounds. I have a vague recollection that they may have even been scheduled to face each other in an elimination round, and I had to decide who should advance.
The second tournament was at Central Florida University in Orlando. We had a free day in between tournaments. Unfortunately, there was not nearly enough time available to stand in line at Disney World or any of the other major tourist attractions in the Orlando area.
Fortune shone on us when we were just about halfway to our destination. I spotted a billboard for an interesting place called Reptile Land on state highway 301 near the town of Lawtey, FL, southeast of Jacksonville. We decided to give it a try.
By the time of our visit it was a little bigger than it appears in the photo. It also actually had more than just snakes and alligators. As I recall, their was at least one chimpanzee and diverse other birds and mammals. And there were no lines!
Reptile Land was obviously a tourist trap, but we all had a good time thee. I regret to tell readers that readers that Reptile Land closed forever not long after our visit.
UCF was not yet known for football, but it had a very good debate team in 1978-1979.
After that nice little break we were all business for the rest of our time in the Sunshine State. In the Central Florida tournament both teams again qualified for the elimination rounds. This time they landed on different sides of the bracket. Both teams won their octafinal rounds. Both teams won their quarterfinal rounds. Both teams also won in the semis.
So, for the first time in the long history of the Wayne State program, two of its teams closed out the finals of a varsity tournament. We brought home both the first and second place trophies. It was quite an accomplishment, and we were all super-pumped. We could not wait to call George and tell him the news. The trip back to Detroit was much longer than the drive down to Florida in terms of miles, but the time flew by.
It seems strange to report that that jubilant return trip is my last clear memory of the 1978-1979 debate season. I remember that Scott and Chris cruised through districts, but I don’t even recall whether I attended with them. Kent and Mike were awarded a second-round bid. So, for the first time ever Wayne State had two teams at the 1979 NDT at the University of Kentucky in Lexington. George did not bring a second coach, even though the team drove. I don’t remember why not.
At the NDT Scott and Chris qualified with a 6-2 record. This was the first time that Wayne State had qualified for the elimination rounds at NDT since 1967. Kent and Mike won five and lost three. They were the only 5-3 team that missed the elimination rounds. They persevered through a very tough schedule; and when their fate was announced, the crowd applauded their performance. I am sure, however, that it was a tough moment, especially for Kent, who was a senior.
Scott and Chris lost in the octafinals to Harvard on a 3-2 decision. Thus ended one of the greatest varsity debate seasons in Wayne State’s history. Wayne’s teams reached the quarterfinals of various tournaments twenty-seven times, the same number as in the previous year, but the close-out and the NDT performance made this year even better.
Televised Debates. For a few months Wayne State participated in a weekly television program on Channel 20 called City Update. It might have been the lowest-rated program on Detroit’s lowest-rated station. I was already quite familiar with the program because the main presenter was a very good-looking young lady whose name I don’t remember. They gave the team a fifteen-minute segment to present a one-on-one debate on a topic of our choosing. Many debaters and some of the IE performers got to appear before the camera.
Fire did not kill Garth Gimble. He was impaled on a Christmas tree.
The best debate was the one in December in which the topic was something like “Is there a Santa Claus?” Mike Craig stole the show as the negative. One of his arguments was entitled “Christmas tree deaths”. He based it on a segment of the Fernwood 2Night show. However, Mike lost; Jack Kay showed up in a Santa suit to deliver the verdict.
I moderated several of these debates. All that I did was to introduce the debaters and the topic. I was surprised that the whole operation was not more professional. The set consisted of a rostrum in an empty room. Only four of us were present—the two debaters, the moderator, and the camera person. On most occasions the camera person was the attractive lady who also hosted the show. Our segment of the show was taped, but we only got one attempt. If someone flubbed something, it was aired anyway.
On one occasion, however, the rules were slightly changed. Three of us that day taped a promo for City Update—the lovely hostess, a debater (I don’t remember which one; it might have been Ruth Kay), and me standing beside one another behind the rostrum. Someone else might have operated the camera, but I think that the presenter set the focus and then just let it run.
We did six takes. I said my lines correctly the first five times, but either the hostess or the debater was not happy with it. On the sixth attempt they both were fine, but I hesitated a little at one point That was the one we used because I said that I didn’t care.
High School Tournament: Every year that I coached at Wayne State the FU hosted a tournament for high school debaters. We all pitched in. In 1979 I was in charge of the tabulation room. Kent Martini and one or two other people helped out. Kent was done with his portion of the final results before the others had finished theirs. When he announced this fact, I told him to check everything again.
Well, he didn’t do it, and George ended up announcing incorrect results. When the mistake was realized, Kent went to George and apologized. He even told George that I had told him to check everything again.
Kent felt terrible, and, as I described here, I knew exactly how he felt. At least he admitted his mistake.
High School Institute. In each summer Wayne State hosted a week-long institute for high school debaters. U-M also hosted an institute, but theirs was more of a camp. Students stayed in the dorms, and it was famous throughout the state. The U-M institute was run by a Wayne State alumna, Jayne Greco1, who was also the debate coach at Kimball High School in Royal Oak, the institution that Kent Martini, Mike Craig, and Dave Debold attended.
In the 1979 edition of Wayne State’s institute I gave a lecture on topicality arguments. I insisted that they were an important part of argumentation in competitive debates. At some point I inserted the phrase “despite what Mrs. Greco might say at the U. of M. Institute”. This got back to her, and she complained to George.
George told me that I should call her and apologize to her. My sweaty hands nearly dialed her number several times, but I never did. I did not know what to say to her. I wasn’t sorry. I chose my words carefully, and I did not say anything untrue or insulting. She was notorious for thinking that only a few cases should be allowed so that no negative team would need to argue about topicality. I strongly disagreed.
Besides, I really did not care what she thought of me.
1. Jayne Greco died in 2000. Her rather sparse obituary can be found here.
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.
The cat did CADO’s training.
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.
Bagley St. in 21st century Mexicantown.
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.
Moe Green.
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.
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.
Don’t call it City Airport.
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.
