More Random Notes

By: Rick LaClaire

Article Category: Rick LaClaire

I’m sure very few of us are sad to see the end of 2009. The bad certainly outweighed the good this year.

I usually rate my annual experience with two indicators: weddings and funerals. 2008 was a busy year, with two funerals and three weddings. 2007 was an even count: one wedding and one funeral. 2009? No weddings and no funerals — a blasé year if ever there was one.

I can’t say I enjoy funerals, but I certainly love weddings. I love everything about them. Getting dressed up, witnessing a milestone then throwing away your inhibitions by getting sloshing drunk and doing the Chicken Dance… It’s like a show, dinner, drinks and dancing — all on someone else’s tab! Now that’s a night out.

Funerals are similar, but certainly more somber. You get dressed up, witness a milestone, then go somewhere and cry in your beer. I’ve actually been to weddings that were less fun than funerals, and I’ve been to funerals where I knew more people than at weddings, but generally, funerals are pretty much a downer. It’s a nice contrast, weddings and funerals, like dill pickles and maple sugar. You need the sour to balance the sweet.

It reminds me of a game we played as kids called “Cows and Graveyards.” When traveling anywhere in upstate New York, one was very likely to encounter dairy farms. The deal was to pick one side of the car and count all the cows you saw. When you came to a graveyard, the slate was erased and you started over. At the end of the trip, the remainder of the cows was your score. Silly? Yes, and slightly stupid, but the trip went faster. Weddings and funerals do the same. With each one, I’m reminded of how fast life is flying by.

Well, 2009 didn’t fly by. Witness, once again: no weddings and no funerals. But man, a whole bunch of people sure did die this year. Some were a real surprise, but many were slow and inevitable. Farrah Fawcett and Pat Swayze come to mind on the slow scale. Michael Jackson in the surprise category. But there were others, no less important though certainly less glamorous, that we may have overlooked.

The first person I’d like to eulogize was not a person at all. It was our cat, Crystal, at age 16, of congestive heart failure. Crystal led a colorful career, in cat terms, and was at times both loved and reviled. A highly talented napper, she ran free and wild in our yard (between naps) and not a single lizard on my property had a complete tail in her 15 years of residence. Birds too were on her menu, and that attests to her hunting prowess. It is also believed she had many lovers, to a point where some referred to her (in veterinary terms) as a “loose pussy.” She had many nicknames, most of which are unprintable, though some are inscribed upon her grave marker, located by the back fence.

I’m sure very few of you remember Vic Mizzy. Well, you should. He wrote the two greatest TV theme songs ever: “Green Acres” and “The Addams Family.” I haven’t seen either show in decades but I can still belt out the themes note for note. As TV songwriters go, Mizzy was amazing. His combination of melodic hooks and clever, catchy lyrics has never been surpassed. Do they give awards for stuff like that? If they don’t, they ought to. He was 93 when he died this fall.

Does anybody out there remember a guy named Robert S. McNamara? Well, he died in July. When I think back to those dark days of Vietnam, for some reason that name evokes a slow nagging nausea. “McNamara’s War,” it was dubbed, and he spent a lot of time living it down, eventually inspiring a book and documentary called “The Fog Of War.” My generation hated the man, and now I can’t remember why. As far as I know, he didn’t start the war, he was chosen to manage it. Sometimes we heap too much on a man. Also 93, he died in his sleep.

Anybody remember Captain Lou Albano? His claim to fame was his wacko showmanship. In fact, I think he invented some of the very popular body-piercing fashions we’re being subjected to today. He was a pro-wrestler, a garish self-promoter and managed the career of one Cyndi Lauper. For those of you who don’t know, Cyndi Lauper was Madonna’s twin sister. Or, one did the voice-overs for the other… Or, one was the other one’s mother… Or something. Anyway, Captain Lou died in October. If you’re a fan of pro wrestling — and there are many of you — it’s probably because of Mr. Albano. He elevated professional wrestling from cult status to the mainstream.

Who has never heard of Les Paul? He invented two things of grave importance to anyone who enjoys popular music: the solid body electric guitar and multi-track recording. Actually, he can’t take sole credit for the electric guitar, nor can he take sole credit for the guitar he lent his name to, the Gibson Les Paul. But without that gizmo, rock n’ roll would have no teeth. Every guitarist at one time or another yearns for a Les Paul. Personally, I don’t like them. I find them too heavy. And you know what? I don’t really care for Mr. Paul’s recordings either; they’re tedious and overcomplicated, in my opinion. But without the Les Paul guitar, Led Zeppelin would not have had its Led, Peter Frampton would have never “come alive,” and Jethro Tull would have been just another artsy flute band. Les Paul died in August.

Speaking of August, was this the longest, hottest summer ever? Nothing makes a year drag more slowly than uncomfortable, monotonous weather. Usually, by October, we’ve had at least a whiff of relief. That “whiff” this past fall lasted about a day. It is November as I write this, and it’s still hot out. Gaggin’ hot… And it started early — we had 100-degree days in June. But the fishing was good. Long, hot summer/good fishing… Why am I complaining?

No one needs to be reminded how bad a business year it’s been. Is this a surprise? For over a year we’ve had the major media beating us over the head with how bad things are. Even if you had a good year, you wouldn’t want to admit it for fear you’d be shouted down like some kind of braggart or liar. There are glaring causes for this so-called recession — economic “bubbles,” the exportation of all our manufacturing, fast and loose credit — but our buddies giving us the news sure haven’t helped anything. It’s like they wanted this to happen for lack of any other news. If you call a dog “bad” long enough, it’ll be a bad dog. If you tell someone they’re ugly enough times, they’ll become ugly. No wonder nobody wants to spend any money. No wonder no one wants to hire. They don’t dare; things are too uncertain. Why? Because the media keeps telling us they are.

Sure, there are signs that things are not right. I’ve seen several of my customers fold. The 32-hour workweek has become the norm, locally. Some have had wage cuts. But it’s happened before. And the last time (the late ’70s-early ’80s) you actually had to appear, stand in line, and sign to pick up your benefits. Now it’s all done online. And in the old days, the bennies ran out after six months. Now, well, they haven’t run out yet. The Feds keep extending them. To paraphrase Will Rogers: we’re the first generation to go to the poorhouse in a Hummer with a laptop, an iPod, and a cell phone.

I certainly didn’t have a great year with my business. After 22 years though, I’m used to it. These things happen; economies rise and fall. I thank God I’m self-employed. I have no one to blame but myself. I always have work to do. I may not always get paid for my work, but at least I’ve got work. Work = Purpose. To have a purpose: that’s the best wages on the planet.

We certainly had our share of household disasters this year. Boy, can that put a drag on things. Two weeks without water in April… (You can read all about that in the summer issues of The Resident.) Did I mention the smoking dishwasher? Not steam, mind you, but smoke. I got to teach my son how to wash dishes the old-fashioned way. That’s like teaching a cat to swim. At the tune of a mere $100, we finally had it serviced. I was quite unbusy that day, and chatted with the repairman as he worked. I learned a couple of things. First, appliance repairmen charge by the hour. Second, that includes time spent chatting. Third, I’m in the wrong business.

Wet spots on the ceiling.. A smoking icemaker… Intermittent A/C in a very hot summer… A failed tomato crop… Okay, okay, let’s quit dwelling on the negative. Surely some good things happened this year. Like… Um… Uh… The fishing! Yeah! The fishing was good this year.