Category: 1980’s

1980's, NY Ink, Thought and Opinion

Reflections of 2011

So here we are at the end of another year. Most people use this time to recall events from the year and look forward to what the future holds. And I’m no different. I always find myself sitting in the kitchen, coffee cup in hand, reflecting on the past.

I started out this morning by reading an old journal entry I wrote 25 years ago. Searching for something that I thought made 1986 memorable for me. All that I found were paragraphs of me rambling on about learning a Van-Halen guitar lick and having a project due in my high school music theory class I wasn’t too enthused about. My only real goals for the new year were getting into my first real band and graduating. In that order if possible. Suffice to say, only the latter event happened.

The following New Years Eve though, 1987, will always be memorable for me. I was spending time with a girl I liked, got a little bit tipsy on the Manischewitz Concord Grape Wine I “borrowed”  from my Grandmother (sorry Nan) and actually got up the nerve to ask her out. You must realize that I was an 18-year-old who had never actually been on a date before. So needless to say, this was HUGE for me. Fortunately, she said yes and we’ve been together ever since.

But the last day of the year hasn’t always been good to me. Nine years later New Years Eve literally changed everything.

It was around 10PM on December 31st, 1996 and  I was at home getting ready to watch Dick Clark freeze his ass of in Times Square. It was fortunate that we had no plans of going out.

The phone rang.

On the other end was my Mother in tears. She NEVER calls me at night unless something was wrong. And this time something was. My grandmother, who had been in ill-health the past few months, had just passed away in the nursing home. The Grand Matriarch whose house I grew up in and who took care of me and my brother and sister was gone. Although the last words we spoke to each other was “I love you” a day earlier as she drifted in and out of consciousness, it was of no consolation. I put down the phone and just cried right there in the middle of the kitchen.

So it’s been fifteen new years eves since I got that call and usually not a day goes by that I don’t think about her in some way. I’m sure tonight I’ll be thinking about her even more.

Now that I’ve wiped my tears, let’s talk about some of the good stuff from this past year (2011):

#1. In January of 2011 I resolved to start writing. My very first blog post was about Pierogies and I’ve never looked back. I’ve written over 120 blogs since then and have even written articles for other online web sites.

#2. I was re-acquainted with a bunch of classmates I haven’t seen in years. It’s been so exciting to see what everyone has been up to and to take part in planning for our 25th reunion next year.

#3. My daughter started middle school this year. She excels at reading and writing (actually making books with chapters and everything) and is big into playing music, much like me. I am so proud of everything she’s becoming. I had the chance to visit her new school for the day and see how everything has changed since I roamed those halls. Made me feel, yup, old.

#4. This one many of you may not know but I can say it now. I was selected as a candidate to be on the TV show NY Ink. I went to New York and got tattooed by Megan Massacre while being filmed by the TLC network. I’m not sure if my segment will be airing or not but the whole experience was incredible. I got tell my story about my own musical journey and how for one night I became a rock star. I’ve been working on a four-part blog about it that I’ll be posting in the New Year.

#5. After hearing about one of my favorite bands, Survivor, reuniting with my favorite singer (Jimi Jamison), I wrote a blog about my journey with the band and how their music affected me. Because of it, I was asked by the management of Frankie Sullivan (guitarist from the band) to do an interview with him. We talked on the phone for over an hour yesterday and I heard so much good stuff about the band and the music I loved growing up.

Those are just five and I could probably go on. Life’s been good and I’ve been so blessed.

I’m not sure what 2012 will hold but I am looking forward to it. I’ve got plenty of ideas for articles and songs. I may even have a go at my first book. And to celebrate the resolution that didn’t come true in 1986 I think I may even take the plunge again and go back into a band situation. The sky’s the limit.

Over the years friends have remembered the Manischewitz story and every so often buy some for me as a joke. I haven’t had any of it in years. But tonight, in honor on Nan, I think I just may have to break it open.

And right after I toast to her memory I’ll make one for you as well.

Here’s to a Happy 2012.

1980's, Childhood Memories, Life

School Daze

The last time I roamed the halls at the current Easton Area Middle School it was still called Shawnee Intermediate School. Although additions were made structurally and the grade levels and names may have changed the building itself is still pretty much the way I remember it to be from when I was a student in the early 1980’s.

Today was a special chance for me to spend the entire day with my daughter at her school and see what a typical day for her is like. Suffice to say, it had an impact on me.

First off let just say that there are several things that I’ll always remember from my time spent at Shawnee:

1. The Planetarium. The absolute coolest place in the school. The only time where if a visit to the planetarium was included as part of an assembly kids got excited.  Sadly, today it’s just a normal room now.

2. Shawnee was the place where I first heard of the band Duran Duran.

3. Reading the book 1984 by George Orwell in Mr. Pfister’s English class in the year, yep you guessed it, 1984.

4. Going to Mr. Heath’s Earth Science class where every morning began with him literally giving us the weather forecast. Mr. Heath would have a map of the US taped on the board complete with approaching cold/warm fronts and “H” and “L” letters representing the respective pressure systems.

5. Dale Wilson carrying around a briefcase and self-publishing his own newspaper. Why this one sticks out is a mystery to me.

Regardless, I thought of all of these things as my daughter and I walked through the doors this morning. Although I felt safe and secure, seeing the levels of security on campus reminded me that about the only thing still relevant in these hallowed halls was that big brother was now watching more than ever.

After spending the morning having breakfast we made our way to her homeroom. Once there I was quickly introduced to one of her classmates named Eric. Upon meeting me he immediately asked Jillian, “Does he know about David?”. “SHUT UP!” Jillian replied as Eric just chuckled. Later I would ask her what that was all about and Jillian told me that Eric thinks she likes David, another student in her class (one which she is quick to say she doesn’t)… Ah, young love.

It wasn’t long before the class clown/troublemaker made his presence known. Chad (name changed to protect the innocent), a ten year old boy who looked more like a linebacker was literally dancing around making “beat-box” sounds when the teacher’s back was turned. I think the level of commotion going on and students asking questions made her oblivious to his actions. Other kids were cracking up at his antics and as soon as the teacher turned back around he immediately would stop. Then sure enough, as soon as the teacher went back to work in a small group he’d act up again.

I had to laugh when I thought what the odds would be if I came back five years from now and Chad was still in the same class beat boxing?

BRRRING….School bell rang and it’s off to music class. My favorite. Usually there would be two periods of math but since she was signed up for band  I got to sit with Jillian in a small group for clarinet lesson.

When the bell rang again we made our way to Math class. As we arrived the teacher, who was working out a problem on the board asked “Were you at music?”. When Jillian responded in the affirmative the teacher replied, “Oh, too bad. You missed some really great problems here”. It was all I could do to keep from saying: “Uhm, yeah…right…SURE she did!”..

Before I knew it lunch had arrived. We scurried our way into the lunch line. A smile appeared on my face when I discovered the tater tots were exactly as I remembered. Memories of the second period lunch at the high school flooded my senses.

About the only thing I lamented about lunch was that there were no green beans. Oh how I missed stabbing the green veggies with my straw. Trying to see how high I could fill the plastic straw before squeezing it’s contents back out on to the cardboard tray.

As we ate I asked Jillian what was next. “Science Class”, she replied. “But our normal teacher is not here today. We have a substitute”.

Substitute. That word triggered the memory of Mr. Stone, the universal substitute teacher in school. Mr. Stone worked as a substitute in pretty much every subject and to this day I’m not even sure what he was experienced to teach. When he was in for a sick teacher it was like study hall because nothing was about the only thing accomplished.

After Science, we made our way back to homeroom and then the funniest thing ever happened.  The teacher wanted to take attendance again and she asked students to please acknowledge with a “Here” when their name was called. Now. most well behaved students would simply give the “here” as their name was called, although some thought to give more cool responses like “Yo” or “Hi There”. But when the teacher called out Chad’s name, he decided to answer with the “beat box”. The teacher asked him to answer properly, but the damage to me was already done.

I laughed…and I laughed…and I laughed. For some reason, him doing the beat box at that particular moment in time hit my funny bone. I was covering my face looking down at the desk with tears started coming from my eyes. I don’t know what it was that was so damn funny when he did that, but I almost had to leave the room. All the kids, including my own Jillian sat there laughing at me laughing. I don’t know how I was able to pull it together, but class continued.

The day ended with of all things an assembly. We entered the auditorium to watch The Bach Choir of Bethlehem perform a few selections. Maybe its because I’m in a choir myself or perhaps because I’m well beyond the middle school years but in either case I found them to be very entertaining.

As we walked out of school and headed home I had a new found appreciation for my daughter. Seeing her interact with others, openly raising her hand to ask questions and actively participate in school is quite the opposite of the way I was. I thought about all the memories she would now be making in these halls over the next four years.

And I couldn’t be more proud.

1980's, Music, Thought and Opinion

Kimball-Jamison: A Melodic Rock Masterpiece

I  still remember it like it was yesterday. I was a teenage boy in 1984 perusing the twenty or so television channels and stumbled upon the then fledgling MTV. That’s when I first saw the video for “I Can’t Hold Back”. It was the first single from Survivor’s Vital Signs album and the first time I ever heard Jimi Jamison, a man I proclaim has the best voice in rock.

I begged my parents to buy me that record. The very first one I ever purchased. One I subsequently wore out and to this day now adorns a spot prominently on my office wall.

I’ve been an avid follower of Jimi’s career ever since. From Survivor to Baywatch to Empires and pretty much everything in between. Every song bringing me back to those carefree days of youth. I still remember walking to class on my college campus blasting “Desperate Dreams” and “Didn’t Know It Was Love” from Survivor’s “Too Hot To Sleep” album on my Sony Walkman, a brick compared to what’s available these days.

Similarly, Bobby Kimball’s vocals abound all over my youth. From Toto’s biggest hits including “Hold The Line” and “Rosanna”, his vocals also hold a special place in my own personal musical journey.

Combine these two forces together and you get Kimball-Jamison, a Mat Sinner produced album featuring twelve new tracks from two of the greatest vocalists in rock.

From the soaring vocals and guitars of the intro Worth Fighting For to the angelic sound of Your Photograph, this CD has everything the melodic rock fan could want.

“It’s my heart you’re breaking. It’s my soul you tear apart.” Worth Fighting For

I have to say that there’s really something special when you listen to this record. Something that I’ve found to have previously been lacking in music that’s synthetically released to the masses these days: great songwriting and musicianship. In a world where the robot voice and auto-tune has become the norm it’s refreshing to hear true vocalists do what they do best: sing great songs.

Any fan of  70’s and 80’s bands can appreciate the influences on this record. Forget Kevin Bacon. Within one degree of Kimball-Jamison you get contributions from: Ides of March, Survivor, Toto, Mister-Mister, Cobra, The Baby’s, Bad English and more.

“We won’t get far pretending in this house of cards.”
“Can’t Wait For Love

Included with the CD is a DVD containing a thirty minute “making of” documentary as well as video clips for the songs Worth Fighting For and Can’t Wait For Love.

You may not find me trolling college campuses these days but this album will surely find a place on my i-Pod. And if you’re a fan of melodic rock like I am, I suggest it be on yours as well.

Track Listing:

· Worth Fighting For
· Can’t Wait For Love
· Sail Away
· Chasing Euphoria
· Find Another Way
· Get Back In The Game
· I Did Everything Wrong
· Shadows Of Love
· Hearts Beat Again
· We Gotta Believe
· Kicking And Screaming
· Your Photograph

Musicians:

Lead & Background Vocals: Bobby Kimball & Jimi Jamison
Guitars: Alex Beyrodt
Bass Guitar: Mat Sinner
Keyboards: Jimmy Kresic
Drums & Percussion: Martin Schmidt

1980's, Childhood Memories, Summer

Dungeons and Dragons

A lot of people have come up to me and asked me how I used to spend my summers growing up. Well, actually no one really has but I feel like telling you about it anyway.

While most youthful teenagers of the 1980’s were spending warm sun filled days going to camp, listening to some guy named Michael Jackson or going to Dip-N-Dances at the Palmer Community Pool I was hard at work with my friends creating characters on sheets of paper, rolling dice and saving the world from utter annihilation playing Dungeons & Dragons.

For those of you who’ve never donned the helmet of a Paladin or put on a Cloak of Invisibility let me explain. Dungeons and Dragons (or D&D) is a role-playing game where players enter realms where monsters and magic are real. Without boring you with too much detail and taking away the heart of this blog post think of it this way: You get to pretend to be a character from Lord of The Rings.

My friends and I used to play D&D for hours. Starting usually around mid-afternoon and going deep into the night gorging ourselves on greasy pizza and Coke. We were so into it.

My brother and all of his friends all thought I was a dork for playing but that didn’t bother me. They didn’t understand that I didn’t need my Atari 2600, M-TV or Madonna. All I needed were my “boys”, some stale pepperoni pizza and my 20-sided dice.

I still remember the frustration we would feel when nature called and we had to take a leak during an important encounter.  No one wanted to leave the table and I think if there were Depends lying around, we might actually have considered using them on more than one occasion.

But the one thing I always remember the most from those gaming sessions wasn’t the food or the battles we had against Goblins, Trolls and Giants. Although those things were very important, the thing that always sticks out for me were the conflicts we used to have with each other.

For without fail, in almost EVERY game session two or more players would start arguing with each other over the course of play and sometimes almost coming to blows. We should have called it D&D Fight Club. And woe to any one when the argument included the Dungeon Master.

The Dungeon Master (DM), is the one chosen to control the world the players adventure into and was a job each of us alternated doing. The DM’s world is based upon a module, a book that has the entire adventure outlined including every creature encountered.

It’s the DM’s job to keep the game flowing based on what the module dictates and controls everything from describing the surroundings to random monster encounters. Essentially, the DM is God. And this appointment to deity status usually posed a problem if the DM held a grudge against fellow players.

Maybe his Mom didn’t give him his allowance that week. Or maybe it was because he had his Underoos on too tight that day.  In any event, whatever it was that caused someone to pi$$ on his cornflakes that particular day, it wasn’t going to be good.

The start of the arguments always began the same way: accusations of cheating on dice rolls. A quick hand to cover the results before the DM could verify was always seen as the primary cause. “You didn’t roll that!”….”Yes I did”….”You LIAR”….(do you see where I’m going with this?).

Most of our DM’s could keep it together. Kind of a hard thing to do considering it was always the players against YOU. The players all had characters and were on the same team. The DM pretty much role-played every thing else in the world from the monsters to the townsfolk.

It was easy to see how battles could ensue. A DM who came into the game session with a chip on his shoulder and having already made accusations of cheating would inevitably lose his cool when his Frost Giant got walloped by a bunch of rogues on the first roll of the dice. Something that was very hard to do.

You could see his blood pressure rise as the players each gave each other high fives. It was kind of like a slap in the face. For most  it was just a game but our DMs always seemed to take it personally and use his God-like ability to make things difficult for everyone. What would start out as a quest for treasure and glory quickly turned into the DM’s desire to wipe out the players as quickly as possible.

So before too long that single  Frost Giant was somehow able to  “magically” summon a half-dozen of his brothers and sisters to join the fray before dying. Ones that I highly doubt were part of the module. That’s when the gloves came off and the dice rolls became more intense.

In the end, the players were victorious most of the time. Tears were shed and on more than one occasion friendships were lost as disgruntled warriors gathered up their Coca-Cola stained sheets of paper and stormed out.

But youth was a wonderful thing and even Dungeons and Dragons couldn’t ruin friendships for long. Usually by the next day all was forgiven and not another word was spoken. Not to siblings or parents. Because when you role-played with us there was only one thing you needed to know: The first rule of D&D Fight Club was, you do not talk about D&D Fight Club.

As seasons change so did my affection for D&D. And it wasn’t long before girls and guitars took the place of giants and dice and D&D became a thing of the past.

Today the game is still as popular as ever. You can even play online with people from across the street or around the world. For a die hard D&Der like I was, you’d think I’d be all over that right?  But truth be told, I haven’t so much as rolled the dice in almost 25 years and have no plans to.

I treasure my friendships too much.