The Flying Philosopher: 2009

The Holy Grail of the unconscious playing out.... Christmas Eve, 2009

As our frau and ourselves boarded our gondola in the rising waters of the Venice(Italy)canals

the left handed oarsman guiding the boat toward Ben Hurs heroics at the Coliseum as portrayed by Charlton Heston in Willie Wylers madcap of a chariot chase...thousands of years ago when the Roman legions dominated our arid plains.

II

Recapitulating those cinematic yesterdays, growing up in Hollywoods company town,, down aways from the Bel Air Hotel and Tiger Woods pretentious pars.....off Stone Canyon Road,... manicuring Sonny Tufts hilltop like loft in exchange for a Ucla freshmans think tank in his garage......private eye Michael Shaynes craft of a hack , Stanley Rauh, Monogram Studios sub lessor.

Mowing the lawn, trimming the bushes, maintaining the bathroom with spick and spunk,giving the premises a cyber space guest house warmth..... bringing out Sonnys angst and binges with Jack Daniels scotch rye brandy vodka as he did battle with his unconscious playing out on those croquet tennis putting court & greens on adjoining status seeking Bellagio Road estates.

Living South of Wilshire in Beverly Hills,screamed Danny Fuchs, screen writer extraordinaire, caught up in the Lonely Crowd of Hollywoods caste system.

The same Bellagio where Dutch and Nancy endured during his 8 year stint in his role of splendor and appearances at the White House and supply side economics.......later weapons of mass destruction by another White House occupant... ,cannon fodder au contraire, jetting on an aircraft carrier God is my co pilot, playing out.....

Dont jump to conclusions,cried Charlie Sheens press agent.Its all about reality and appearances, he scribbled on his web site Let the chips fall where they may, he said, putting a Randolph Scott frosting to his 21st century pronouncements of our dumbed down pop culture: drained out celebs with their significant insignificant gigs...

Where art thou Pat OBrien? Of entertainment tonight the Gippers coach at Notre Dame?

Win one for the Gipper. cried Pat OBrien (Knute Rockne) unhke Vince Lombardi a quarter of a century later at Green Bay. .....the Italian determinism in its Irish wake.

III

Living in one of those palatial Bellagio Road manors was Hitch...Alfred Hitchcock ,the filn auteur ....a genius way ahead of his breathen... those smart money boys whose thinking placed a cloud over our bailed out system in which Hitch his wife and daughter flourished during the 30's 40's 50's........into the sixties...Alfred Hitchcock presents at Universal Citys tee vee.,,,,,

Stanley Rauh had floundered in the B studio tombs for what may have seemed like solitary confinement but his players of melodramatic plots eschewing the post depression food stamps and mickeys before World War 2 were Lloyd Nolan, Richard Denning Jeff Chandler as red haired Irish private eyes dealing in who dun its

Carole Landis Mary Beth Hughes Francis Langford (before Hope Hope Hope Vera Vague, Jerry Colonna)..Spring Byington Arlene Whelan Lynn Bari.,their male counterparts William Demerest the Cisco Kid Caesar Romero Dick Tracys Ralph Byrd Lew Ayres George Montgomery Paul Kelly...., a Laurel&Hardy chemistry whose test tube never bubbled..

Sol Wurtzel, a Daryl Zanuck alter ego at 20th century later, holding the air turbos afloat...temperaments needing a strong hand to churn out those black and white

cheapies under scene stealing inevitabilities, happy endings to be espoused

across town at Louis B Mayers Culver City lots......

Notwithstanding Mack Sennetts absurdity on the back lot, Felix Adler and Frank Capra cranking out their comedic capers.....

Meanwhile at Musso&Frank...a Hollywood Boulevard watering hole, Stanley Rose, the proprietor of the Satyr book store held high a check. Ten thousand big ones, peoples...Louie B. An option on Saroyans Human Comedy

An original named Sonny Tufts stepped up to the grill. Is there a part for me? Ill do whatever it takes.

Drinks on the house, he cried , the euphoia sweeping over his embattled Holy Grail coming to grips with his unconscious.

Across town at Pershing Square Park ....two stalwarts of the starry eyed industry without breaking a syllable and their unlisted phone numbers long before the digital age and computer printed animation took hold, the former film editor from across the pond, Alfred Hitchcock strode in his storied flow with the likes of his Bellagio Road neighbor, Archie Leach aka Cary Grant.

What they were pursuing in their flow neither was capricious nor dynamic, their quiet minds into capturing four scenarios down the road.

First, Suspicion Archie or the sophisticated Mr. Grant beholden to his wife Joan Fontaine.a match made not in Heaven but in the ulteriors of her unconscious

Second, Notorious wtih Archie oh my goodness hes no longer on the Coney Island boardwalk. Walking on stilts, the flaps adveretising a keg of beer for fifty cents, the other placard Hebrew National knishes and franks a nickel a pickle, the delicatesn adjoining Jimmy Durantes saloon, he thumping the eighty eight keys while his partner in suds... Eddie Jackson.. stood at the cash register.

Third, Notorious, with the stately Ingrid Bergman and the cool quiet minded Claude Rains pitted against the suave Archie now become fixed in his psyche as Randolph Scotts Bellagio Road roommate, the two larger than life noir actors sharing the same space.

Finally North by Northwest, the debonair Cary Grant suspected of being a Ben Laden in disguise, machined gunned at a cross roads in the desert, his moving target ratcheted down by the ammo,... hunkered down. awaiting a Holy Grail rescue from Eva Marie Saint.

Princess Grace, still a commoner named Grace Kelly arriving on the scene To catch a thief

Who could imagine the portly film editor Hitch become a man of accomplishment in four decades...as an urchin raised in those Jesuit schools, a victim of his sadist like father sending him off to jail, the constables heeding the old mans charges that Alfy had committed some offence that merited jail time, those miscues appearing in the suspenseful concoctions he and his collaborators served up

Knowing he was an auteur with his own creative vision as charactered by Francois Trauffaut , he and his scribes Ernest Lehman and John Michael Hayes ... orchestrated by Bernard Hermann..Duke Wayne having Elmer Bernstein, Jack L preoccupied with Max Steiner, Charlie Chaplin with David Raksin.....

VII

Getting a break in film advertising, he was hired in runaway German films in Munich, No splash in the wind, his next role as a film editor for the silent Lodger(a Laird Cregar 20th century flick) directing Secret agent with Peter Lorre.

Those scenarios didnt blow anyone away....but his quiet presence of mind attracted notice. Whether it was J. Arthur Rank, he was given ...The Lady Vanishes, Dame May Witty in the third class compartment who vanishes during the European cross country trip, a planted Macguffin of a clue, giving rise to phoney suspicions, among the non speaking English passengers..

And our favorite the 39 steps where Hitch with his fetish of spiked heels, employed Madelaine Carrol as the sultry Mata Hari: ... handcuffed to Robert Donat, the suspenseful chase across the Scottish moors.... the pinky finger missing spys manor.

Earlier on a West End music hall stage..... Tell us Mister Memory, where are the secrets to the bomb? asked a dialect fused tongue from the orchestra, a shot ringing out...Mister Memory falling.

VII

David Selznick got wind of Hitchs suspenseful adventures, brought him and his wife to Hollywood, he never embracing the assembly line of scenarios.... the once abused student at the hands of his dominating Dad, went his own way.

Rebecca Jamaica Inn Shadow of a doubt Lifeboat..Foreign Correspondent, a favorite with Joel McCrea Rope Dial M for Murder Rear Window Psycho Torn Curtain Birds Spellbound The Paradine Case

Vertigo Strangers on a train Topaz The mas who knew too much Trouble with Harry Stage Fright To Catch a Thief

The scenarios feeding the audience with just so much information, as an Agatha Christie mystery, mirrowed by bridge openings and spread points...Would you like some more tea,, my Lady? asked Jack the Ripper as the genteel Lodger, his unsuspecting victim(s) to kingdom done..

******

The left handed oarsman leaped from the gondola, the boat swerving in those Venetian waters, two spies coming in from the cold .... swallowed up by its swirling waves........

......glub.....glub....glub..........

Venice, Italy, December 28, 2009.....

“What’s in a name?”

“What’s in a name?” our weekly Adler radio scenario WBBC, from the Brooklyn Court and Montague Street swirl , across Judge Wingate’s Surrogates Court, “The Name Detective” Samuel Curtis Adler, serving in the dual role of official interpreter and probate administrator, for some thirty six years..

Beginning in 1940 , my mother, Esther Kaminsky (Brooklyn College alumni 2010, page 19) and her twelve year old urchin, began a top secret trip into our nation’s genealogical origin, Adler meaning “Eagle”.... the source of our divinity across the pond to the Magna Carta in 1066, ricocheting with the New World’s Founding Fathers.

Haunting the public libraries : the Big Apple’ s 42nd Street, Grand Army Plaza, Brooklyn College’s Gideonse, our odyssey began.

President Harry S. Truman, Generals Omar Bradley, George Catlett Marshall, Dwight Eisenhower, Senators, Representatives.... dignitaries like Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia, “Wild Bill” Donovan. Bernard Baruch, Albert Einstein ( an unsigned German dictation), Rabbi Pool, Wendell Willkie, Harold Stassen in response to the “Name Detective’s” inquiry about the origin of their surnames.

Supreme Court Justice Hugo Black’s death bed note to us in California. The American Red Cross for bedside visits to hospitalized GI’s in the Staten Island Long Island area.

Having been brought down to earth by 9/11, not unlike December 7, living the dream across Campus Road....Midwood High at Brooklyn College Enter to grow in body mind and spirit Depart to serve better your God your country and your fellow man.

Thus began a quest of seven decades ...searching for a depositary for my mother and father’s legacy. A quintessential joy in having President Truman’s library accept twenty eight letters from the “What’s in a name?” correspondence, June 29, 2009.....
And our wife, Estelle, ecstatic on becoming a “G G”, a great grandmother, July 21...a 7 pound 7 ounce baby boy named Blake in San Diego...., his grandmother Lori, his mother Tara.

The gay caballero Adam Lambert, “the man in the iron mask” goes his own way

The gay caballero Adam Lambert, "the man in the iron mask" goes his own way, renouncing the legendary paths of 20th century crooners....Rudy Vallee Dick Powell Bobby Breen Dennis Day Nelson Eddy Bing Crosby Tony Martin Perry Como Frank Sinatra Tex Beneke Dean Martin Dick Haymes Paul Anka Bobby Darrin Elvis Presley Louis Armstrong Eddie Fisher Nat King Cole Frankie Laine Simon&Garfunkel Tony Bennett.
The incarnations of Ben Bernie Jimmy Durante Al Jolson in black face Eddie Cantor on his knees, singing ballads and romantic love tunes. Bewailing the pop culture gone hip hop.

"The man in the iron mask" goes thru his motions.... a stud projecting his latest amour.. Embracing the mike as thou in the digital age the mike morphs ... grabbing his crotch before the globe’s baby sitters.

III

When the planet is in need of larger than life heroes like Tony Bennett...artists into torch songs ...the pop gig into the rigged mob scene as thou the roar would sweep the audiences collective consciousness into mass insanity...Imagination and fantasy selling out,.... making a frenzied score ...

Where’s Mario Lanza’s mother? Lee J Cobb, the Golden Boy’s father and role model?
A bewildered soul searching for his rig and its sails in our stormy ocean of humanity.
"I lost my way pops momma. Bring me back to what I could have become,"cried Pasadena’s William Holden, the sound and fury drowning out his wails from the womb..
Carnegie Hall and the violin? Boxing and the purse? Lip synching on the "Great Caruso" lot?
Ramon Navarro Fatty Arbuckle where art thou?

Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade, "Miracle on 34th Street", November 26, 2009

"The truth of man lies not in his uniform but in his soul" Mozart and Mushroom Barley

"The truth of man lies not in his uniform but in his soul" Mozart and Mushroom Barley, Ucla, University of Texas, Austin, Yale Medical School: witch doctors shrinks therapists....
Anna Freud, Doctor Sigmund’s daughter on a stipend , Yale Law school......during ‘Nam.
Benedict Arnold in disguise 4 decades from surfacing, November 5, 2009, Fort Hood, Texas processing station, guns blazing, ....tuition free Army witch doctor ......a 39 year old "Marty"of a loner, no one to give him psychotherapy until he makes his demoniac score......
"Who’s yer agent, Major?".

Not unlike a tit for tat Iago, putting on his moth balled Naval uniform....masquerading at the Aragon Ballroom, Venice Pier, California.......post World War2.. penny pinching his bucks, living in a Sawtelle Boulevard V.A. neuropsychiatric cold water stall.
"You’re as useless as .. .. . .. .. " the hobby shops, Mister Morrison x ray ing the innards of a 21 jewel Swiss watch ticking away morphing as a Bernie Madoff rolex
A 5th grader playing out his Sheik of Araby fate... in 150 years of prison time.

III

The World Series Bronx Bombers emerging as heroes, like a freight train rolling from the Battery to Chambers Street and Broadway down the Canyon of Champions for the 27th time:
The marching bands, the last float with baseball’s greatest closer ..... #42, Mariano "Mo" Rivera.

Meanwhile the Fort Hood Texas massacrer, a Benedict Arnold in disguise... runs a rampage, unable to think thru his traitorous tyranny ....mowing down 13 innocents at the processing station before he is taken out by a swat team of a "pro". in the swirling dust of a "High Noon"
Coming to grips with the witch doctor’s angst eyeball to eyeball.
The Big Apple, November 15, 2009.

The world is a progressively realized community of interpretation

"A betrayal by Benedict Arnold in disguise, 13 innocents taken by surprise, a microcosm of 9/11....... Thursday, November 5, 2009 " the Fort Hood Texas massacre........
The Ucla campus revisited..... if he ventured off campus into the multi diversity of the planet’s gross national laptops and dynamic energy he would mull over "Flags of our fathers"
Overwhelming disenchantment of World War 2’s hero Ira Hayes, as the Indian in and out of battle garb, sliding into addiction self destruction and oblivion.
Fresh off his Pima reservation, Ira Hayes soon realizes he’s being used and exploited by the power structure, painted in broad strokes as a role model and hero in the aftermath of the bloodcurdling murderous assault on the Japanese mountainous island, Iwo Jima, World War 2, February 19, 1945.
His odyssey belies the myth that he and his buddies were the actual flag raisers as they were photographed by Joe Rosenthal at the height of the blood bathed mountain..
That they were imposters in raising the attention getting second flag, the blood of the real heroes on their Souls for living out their lie for the rest of their lives in the American dynasty which made mincemeat of their ardor and patriotism.
Raising the flag was the linchpin for the assault on our own senses…Eastwood composing the funereal sounds, the ghastly mayhem and murder among youthful GI’s and their programmed Japanese counterparts, occurs in the name of politics and vague aggressions by the two governments.
The land sea and air bombardment offers no escape into trivia or bourgeois outrageousness…the maginot line of "Paths of glory"
The scenario’s inhumanity of war on the youthful landscape of the unconscious and Picasso’s "Guernico" questions the power structure, and indicts their haves have not thinking ……the business card gamesmanship and the futility of believing in the "games humans play on each other."…the Souls of Ira Hayes and his like minded buddies and amigos go down the drain of power politics.1…."the Iwo Jima flag raising"
Woe is the suffering and loss of life as realized by the Gold Flag mothers as they learn the real Reality, Ira Hayes balling and sobbing reveals the Truth….the flashbacks into the crazies mercilessly playing out the deaths and stupidity.
"What the Hell are we fighting for?" the F words and vulgarity used over and over again to reemphasize the absurdity of it all. That civilization teeters on the brink in and out of war.
Why o why all that American blood? For what in God’s name?

Deciphering Hayes deterioration at the hands of the ruling "Citizen Kane" mentality back home on the American continent- the flashback rallies to sell bonds in the name of patriotism is jingoism at its loftiest Machiavellian stance.
To sell Colonel Lindbergh’s flight to Paris….to realize Amelia Earhardt’s search for the Holy Grail.
The sadistic masochistic flagellation and cruelty by the overlords-not a simpatico in the house- downloading the downtrodden fates of Hayes and his brethren….a janitor a farmer a drunk to be- the real victims of the "victorious" assault on a God forsaken volcano off the coast of Japan.
It breaks Ira Hayes, the Indian commando’s persona-as he stumbles thru the civilian ego trips, bewildered by the staged hypocrisy and charade.
Dismissed discarded and dissed , his skeleton tossed unto the graveyard and body bags of his buddies and amigos he left on that lava ridden Alcatraz called Iwo Jima.
He was never able to buy into the façade, the dissembling a merciless cry from the reservation he was born onto…. the myth of "The Plainsman" "the Last of the Mohigans"
Bullied into subservience, he was crippled by his reality compounded by the ugliness of the back slapping handshaking cigar smoking business card offering of his masters.

lll

"The flags of of our fathers" shakes up any pre assumed perceptions of identities and tactics and strategies as one forges ahead to the self serving ambitions and tunes of human beings craving more than just survival and vanity from the cradle to the grave.
The Eastwood Steven Spielberg jaunt thru the American landscape in war and peace tramples our fun loving good will image of ourselves….
Brooding Ira Hayes refused to play the gig. He was too proud an Indian to sell out…
His buddies and amigos….the real heroes abandoned and left behind in those gruesome earth spilled graves and websites.

"The world is a positively realized community of interpretation" as Josiah Royce says at the base of Royce Hall on the Ucla campus.
An arcade down away, Ira Hayes’ alter ego seeing through the deception, read the inscription "They should learn beforehand the knowledge which they require for their art" Plato..
…Crossing the quad and its flagpole to the chemistry building, downloading his agony and sleepwalking stupor thru the mask of civilian living and hyped sensibilities.
The price of all our Ira Hayes, his buddies and amigos dying daily in Iraq…
By a leadership never holding a gun no less a machine gun or a bazooka. Landing on a forlorn beach in an assault boat, or beheading a Japanese in an eyeball to eye ball bayoneting,
Never being able to put themselves in Ira’s… his buddies and amigos blood spattered boots...
(‘Nothing is too wonderful to be true’………..Faraday)

The Big Apple, October 27,2006.... revisited Thursday, the 5th of November 2009 the Fort Hood Texas massacre.....

Massacre in cold blood.....

"Benedict Arnold in disguise the Ucla campus, October 18-24, 2006 revisited Thursday, November 5, 2009 " the Fort Hood Texas massacre"........ if he ventured off campus into the multi diversity of the planet’s gross national laptops and dynamic energy he would mull over "Flags of our fathers"

Overwhelming disenchantment of World War 2’s hero Ira Hayes, as the Indian in and out of battle garb, sliding into addiction self destruction and oblivion.
Fresh off his Pima reservation, Ira Hayes soon realizes he’s being used and exploited by the power structure, painted in broad strokes as a role model and hero in the aftermath of the bloodcurdling murderous assault on the Japanese mountainous island, Iwo Jima, World War 2, February 19, 1945.
His odyssey belies the myth that he and his buddies were the actual flag raisers as they were photographed by Joe Rosenthal at the height of the blood bathed mountain..
That they were imposters in raising the attention getting second flag, the blood of the real heroes on their Souls for living out their lie for the rest of their lives in the American dynasty which made mincemeat of their ardor and patriotism.
Raising the flag was the linchpin for the assault on our own senses…Eastwood composing the funereal sounds, the ghastly mayhem and murder among youthful GI’s and their programmed Japanese counterparts, occurs in the name of politics and vague aggressions by the two governments.
The land sea and air bombardment offers no escape into trivia or bourgeois outrageousness…the maginot line of "Paths of glory"
The scenario’s inhumanity of war on the youthful landscape of the unconscious and Picasso’s "Guernico" questions the power structure, and indicts their haves have not thinking ……the business card gamesmanship and the futility of believing in the "games humans play on each other."…the Souls of Ira Hayes and his like minded buddies and amigos go down the drain of power politics.…."the Iwo Jima flag raising"
Woe is the suffering and loss of life as realized by the Gold Flag mothers as they learn the real Reality, Ira Hayes balling and sobbing reveals the Truth….the flashbacks into the crazies mercilessly playing out the deaths and stupidity.
"What the Hell are we fighting for?" the F words and vulgarity used over and over again to reemphasize the absurdity of it all. That civilization teeters on the brink in and out of war.
Why o why all that American blood? For what in God’s name?

lll

"The world is a positively realized community of interpretation" as Josiah Royce says at the base of Royce Hall on the Ucla campus.
An arcade down away, Ira Hayes’ alter ego seeing through the deception, read the inscription "They should learn beforehand the knowledge which they require for their art" Plato..
…Crossing the quad and its flagpole to the chemistry building, downloading his agony and sleepwalking stupor thru the mask of civilian living and hyped sensibilities.
The price of all our Ira Hayes, his buddies and amigos dying daily in Iraq…
By a leadership never holding a gun no less a machine gun or a bazooka. Landing on a forlorn beach in an assault boat, or beheading a Japanese in an eyeball to eye ball bayoneting,
Never being able to put themselves in Ira’s… his buddies and amigos blood spattered boots...
The Big Apple, October 27,2006.... revisited Thursday, the 5th of November 2009 the Fort Hood Texas massacre.....

Paradise lost,Verdugo Hills High School,1955

“Beam me up, Booty Jr High.. all children smile in the same language”...an Iago in disguise, dissembling thru his PSAL medal....fastest 12 year old in the 60 yard dash under the doomed roof, Iago shrewdly splitting out of his Devil’s pleasure palace to the school auditorium.....cast as George Washington in the all encompassing 8th grade “Father of his country”.

“Oh my goodness” “Heaven forbid” “Him again” none of the PTA monotones suspecting the masochistic sadistic motives playing out......

So what if the bullying fire escaped East 4th and Avenue P street urchin needs constant approbation.....

Is he pushing Abe Reles out of the Half Moon Hotel on Surf Avenue? mowing down innocents in Pakistan? Wiring suicide bombs in “Thief of Bagdad”?

“Raise yer hand, ” said the head counselor Missus Roberts, thinking to herself.....the big kid adults wolfing down their amnesia not unlike a dementia masking as an Alzheimer....

As a tradeoff , I kid you not dear reader......

III

The “father of his country” goes cross country, Rudolf Valentino’s “Sheik”.... emerging as “the cream cheese bandit” in a City of Angels Safeway market...kiping a midget sized Philadelphia cream cheese into his foul weather jacket., the ceiling mirror capturing his petty thief’s soul...morphing into nickel and dime aggressions, the bully finding his own web site...

Twenty five years after the fact..... oblivion

Missus Roberts, the counseling honcho, migrated across the Continent as a ”Miss America .Go west, young lady” her Ucla backpack ....Brenda Joyce, 1945 ....

Saddle shoed sorority sisters yearning for their break on Hilgard’s sorority row, open to the gentle winds of an ominous lyricism..... Deanna Durbin in disguise

A mescaline shrieking hoop de hoop ..... juiced up m.o.t’s near Albuquerque, freaking out on a stoned Andre Agassi euphoria .

“Y’hear Tristan&Isolde, don’t you Gov’nor?”

In asthma hay fever smog free Sunland Tujunga... driving up from the Valley , she discovered Shangri-la’s Verdugo Hills High School........directing the cumulative record sweep from kindergarten thru Verdugo Hills Junior High into the Senior High of raging hormones Friday nighters and hot rod cruising Smother brother flicks.

Diane Keaton’s transition to “Annie Hall”........Glendale Pasadena La Cresenta Flintridge, publisher Manchester Boddy’s gilded orchids beyond the school’s ....

“The last of the Mohigans” Henry Fonda, Binnie Barnes.

Her classroom appearances gave her a tactful prescience....”Dr. Jink Fish, a psychologist, doing her PHD thesis on childhood realities..... morphing into grown up fantasies”.

Having access to Lenny Ross’s yearnings, Ucla ‘s Fearing Gingerelli Wenger’s data bases.....Fearing of Hadley Cantrel’s “ Social Psychology”....

Later mowed down by a car at a pedestrian crossing.... San Vicente above Wilshire (the Air Reserve Center) below Bundy, Freud’s “Civilization against the discontents” playing out

VII

Lenny’s appearance on the $64000 question.. Thru graduation to Reed and Yale Law School, his tenure: editor in chief, the law review...

Then Governor (aka attorney general) Jerry Brown’s Nuke Prof. at Boalt Law School, regulating utility rates from Sacramento.

Resolving his demons......climbing a fence, surrounding a motel’s swimming pool, finding his nirvana, his sponge like lungs breathing their last....an unfettered nemesis, conquering his giant retentive soul.

VIII

When Jinx Fish’s husband Dr, Jekyl wasn’t tethering Oscar nee Hughie Hughes, the pet ape they adopted from the Edgar Rice Burroughs compound. in Tarzana, he subbed in Lenny’s Junior High classes..

What was the skinny on Lenny Ross?”

The school’s enlightened leadership: Bill Farmer, a handball player extra ordinaire; Bob Bennett Dorothy Kirby vice principals, Mrs. Burke, school secretary, a dangling Novella Roma purse on her arm. ....

Charismatic Herman Adams into advanced algebra the chess club: his state of mind. like his door always open....

Meanwhile Jenkyl and Lenny kibitzed about his stock market prowess...”gimme a few tips, .Y’ like Royal Dutch?”

“Who’s your broker? Joe the pro?” asked the vunder kid, spitting out a pistachio shell of price&earnings, many moons before Madoff’s “Sheik of Araby” costumed fall from 6th grade grace.

Sweating jumping jacks on the football field... a shower...., Sy Korach, the basketball coach, monitoring Lenny’s spritz, snapping his towel.... vicariously morphing his own Midwood High memories...Mister Ralston, a pro in snapping his tosches.

Building his home on North Bundy Drive, while coaching at LA Trade Tech ...the on ramp freeway geometries ....Harbor Long Beach Hollywood Ventura San Diego Santa Monica playing out a “trick or treat”..... to Disneyland.

“Who’s yer Daddy? “

City of Brotherly Love, the Bronx Bombers 2 - 1, World Series, November 1, 2009

40 Years Still Breathing - Win 1 for the Bard

"Bartender good humor man and wet nurse," shouted Hughie Hughes, the emancipated gorilla who was once a pet ape living the life style of a house bred rhino("the tennis champ of Pismo Beach")
deported back to Griffith Park’s zoo for devouring tons of livestock Not worth his weight in Euros," claimed his caretakers, the internationally famed PHD’s Jenkyl and Jinx Fish.

As the two psychologists.....continued their lab play of ping pong, Hughie having turned the ping pong table around, reversing their fortunes not unlike "Precious" the documentary about a sophtic Billie Holiday .. scat singer on the make.... abusive mommas and poppas- who tried to devour her sensibility. An aggrandizement off an unholy war inside the family boudoir.
"I know what you want pops, and it ain’t loving," said the buxom teenager, to her burned out pops."I’m not gonna grow up and be wasted like you know who," she said, throwing the gauntlet at the authority figure.....

Marquis de Sade’s masochism coupled with Genet’s "Balcony"of corrupting souls into uppers and downers, "a bit of snuff, Watson",said Dr. Holmes putting aside Brahms third violin concerto score.
"We’re on cruise control, Holmes,"said Nigel Bruce into his alter ego’s.... Basil Rathbone’s role playing......

III

Meanwhile Hughie Hughes relishing his peekaboo role at the keyhole of the Fish’s sanctuary.
"Friends, Romans and country men lend me your ears We are not here to bury that great public savant, coach Murray Eisenstadt But to honor those Ithaca NY summer leanings...setzing in his rocking chair, Kappie in her hammock."
He had nothing more to prove after thousands of days punching the clock

The teaching game had been good to him and Kappie.....their combined longevity genes were celebrated under the four bridges....185 years of enchantment in&out of the classroom.(95&90 a~nos)
Who could top that? Joe Laurie Jr? "Senator" Ford? Harry Hershfield? Peter Donald?

"Raising me as your stud....like I was some status symbol, stealing my primate soul....and for what,"screamed Hughie. "Chasing ping pong balls, escaping into late tee ve. Me another Soupy Sales’s a pie in yer face. Dagmar Jerry Lester Dave Garroway Jack Paar Steve Allen Carson ."
"We gave you an identity in the jungle even if the Name Detective came up with your real down to earth what’s in a name," said Jinx, scrambling for a cross court forehand.
"Who would think, going back to 1066 and the Magna Carta,"that you grew into thoughtfulness.
"Why Dwight Eisenhower... Ike...would envy you. His genealogy originates with Smithy. A black smith out of Kansas. How does that grab you, Hughie?" said Jenkyl, batting the ping pong down the line, the rubber faced racquet spinning the angle..
"Wow,"cried the gorilla into his squint at the keyhole. "Like a rally monkey by those Angel.
fans in Anaheim.. Game six at the Yankee Stadium for the World Series....no rally monkeys or thunder sticks..
"Pettite Mariano ("Mo") Jeter and Posada......those pioneer pin strippers have a Chinamen’s chance......the Phillies well rested, waiting......waiting’

The Bronx, Yankee Stadium... World Series rehearsal, October 25,2009.

Celebration of Murray and Kappie's life together

Let the flags fly half mast......Murray Eisenstadt’s soul ascending.(1912-2009)
Cry the flood of tears until the ducts are empty. Larger than life, he entered our own ocean of humanity..Midwood High School@Brooklyn College, in the dual role of Social Studies(civics) and varsity tennis coach sixty seven years ago.

His intellectual yearnings may have begun long before his imagination settled on his sweetheart and wife "Kappie"...., embracing his selfless role in the Brooklyn cosmos of Brownsville. Where Hopkinson and Sutter Avenues intersect. The Hebrew Educational Society (HES) community center.
A reality scene beholden to Meyer Lansky Bugsy Siegal Al "Bummy "Davis ‘s Murder Inc..
Luminaries like Danny Kaye Abe Stark, the Ebbets field clothier ("hitting our sign on a fly we guarantee a suit") former Borough president. Post WW2 , son Ray, playing out his role as an agent, in the Grauman Chinese tinsel town syndrome.

His wife Fran, Fanny Brice’s daughter.
II
Murray fell into the wand of youth, spellbound by Rabbi Alter F. Landesman (1922-65) who masterminded the community center’s "Jerusalem of America" growth..
Those early years of classroom teaching and coaching seemed propitious, the school’s inscription ‘Enter to grow in body mind and spirit....Depart to serve better your God your country and your fellow man’
Althou those practice tennis duals at Kelly Field Mammoth clay courts Wingate field may have given Murray myopia, he honored us with an ‘M’ , a passport back to the Beverly Hills Tennis Club. and a transition as a scribe at Ucla’s Daily Bruin.,.. Henry Fuchs, English Chair @ Midwood’s Argus... Julie Raskin, Boys Physical Education chair, parlaying the pedigree.

III
Murray was Julie’s "Godfather". His star quality found its way unto the United Lawn Tennis Association, the New York Times columns of WCR@NYTimes,com.,his championing of Alethea Gibson, the first Afro American woman’s number one and Wimbledon champion, .
His hard work and vision mirrows the greatness of the Big Apple and its diversity.. The immigrant flow into Ellis Island, passing the Statute of Liberty heralds the "Jerusalem of America" and giants like Murray and Kappie Eisenstadt, their ancestors and nephews and nieces.
Could a Cantor like Moishe Oysher of those 1930 yesterdays thunder his prayers for Murray’s departed soul.. ......
A role model and public servant on many different levels. Brooklyn College’s impresario for its aging populace...the Center for political utterances, his glorious birthdays at Lundys in Sheepshead Bay: the gratuitous telegrams (text messaging) from Woody Allen Marty Markowitz Chuck Schumer Matilda Raffa Cuomo...glad hands from grown up Ebbets Field 55 cent knot hole kids..... .
He and Kappie playing bridge at the newly built hi rise student union,
IV
Do not count your years but make your years count. It’s nice to fall in love again no matter what your age.
We shared his inspiring space in and and out of the classroom " I may no longer be in the system. but I haven’t lost my fire,"he told WCR@NYTimes.com.
We loved him because he allowed us to be a part of his extraordinary journey into "tikkur olam"... repairing the world .
"When are you coming over?" he said in those waning moments of 97 years..
"Murray forgive us for one more sob....... the human who lost his way....hesitates at the crossroads of an arrow,. "I may not know how far... but I know where to ."
Midwood High School@Brooklyn College..............October 10. 2009

Hughie Hughes the 21st century King Kong

Hughie Hughes the 21st century King Kong, reversing roles on his captors, not knowing their safari into Kenya, would offer an insight into the brutal homicide of Annie Le, an American Vietnamese in her graduate student role at Yale medical school’s animal lab ...A Connecticut Yankee hate crime playing out.....the ape peering thru the lab’s keyhole.

"Wheeler dealers posing as academics, searching for the Darwinian connection...the correlation between Annie Le’s 200 mice and her pharmaceutical research into biological enzymes of disease at Yale’s medical school.
　
"Beyond your own need for the sweeps ..Medical journals..Cleveland clinic Massachusetts General Hospital... John Hopkins Mayo clinic.....Cedars of Lebanon@Ucla.....

"Wow a major case ‘W’ playing out.....the 24ish old four feet eleven giant into cancer diabetes muscular dystrophy . Casing search engines with data base information, . Millions of sorties for humanity, Dr’s Jenkyl and Jinx....
"And what does she get for being a true believer in the American Dream....offering up her sweat and blood, people’s people.

A reality scene filled with contradictions, the Name Detective’s third generation Clark. Not x raying the attendant caretaker’s soul at 12 -25 bucks an hour.....and his Branford High School reality scene, seeing only the mirror of himself...stalking humans who are not look alikes, dear readers. Fearful of facing up to themselves. And the lies they live by....subterfuges defensive mechanisms to cover up their self defeating malignancies.
Hot shot stud, overwhelming pursuits with adrenalin testosterone .....his fiefdom&domain, cleaning out the cages . Henry the Third’s birthright swept away in a dust bin Annie Le a threat to his turf .(akin Doris Jones cat and dog grooming in Beverly Hills...) Imaginary gridiron diamond kicks, overextending his small minded mentality.... acting out quarter backing.... on the mound, kicking at the dirt.. ..
　
How does that heroic grab you, Clark the Third ? Not recognizing Dreiser’s "American Tragedy" Montgomery Cliff into your elitist’s gig...Shelly Winters., his innocent "Place in the sun", played out by "Raymond Clark, the Third" the Bard’s King Henry III..

III

"Quarantining me while you two tripped out on another viajo... to Novella Roma, the Spanish Steps of Lord Byron .... the poets Keats Shelley leaving me to take care of business in Hollywood," Hughie snarled....
"Lady gayers out for your laptops and King Kong software.....thinking your ego trip thru at Piazza di Spagna

" Using me for your hobby lobby... pay me cheap,. busting my "King Solomon Mines" butt,,,, hustling maps of the stars abodes on Sunset....kissing up to an inebriated Sonny Tufts on Stone Canyon Road...."Dutch" at Bellagio Judy Garland, Henry Fonda hiding out beyond the Bel Air Hotel and golf course. Kong’s Fay Wray into the pink stucco ... .beyond the gated stoned sentry..
"Freaked out egotists with over abundant vanities. Jenkyl and Jinx Fish...Grrrr, you lamp chops.

Pray continue your game ..... grandiose schemes of gender and brainwashing audacity .. not wanting to hear the truth ...

"Raising a captive gorilla the American way . A gig ne’ ce pas ? One more audition., Me Oscar in my past life..... the taunting me Hughie Hughes. in this one.".

"Fronting for your illusions, your lascivious tastes. Waxing the discreet decibels like Prince Mike Romanoff and his alter ego, Archie Leach (Cary Grant) on that Wilshire Boulevard caper. Romanoff’s bistro: a Steve McQueen chase from the Chief’s Angela Drive tennis court pool butler projection room locker room bleachers night light accouterments..

"Hailing from Youngstown Ohio, originally the Lodz Poland ghetto, the Warner kosher meat market took a quantum leap into penny arcade distribution ... the brothers rapping into Al Jolson’s "Mammy how I love you.... how I love you...."the jazz singer" 1927, Asa Yoelson grumbling ..
Tin Pan alley: Irving Berlin, George Gershwin on the cusp, waiting in the wings..
A quarter century later...."Chief" morphing back to his Youngstown Ohio yesterdays "Let’s not take out a new can, boys. Let’s use the old tennis balls."
　
Yale Medical School animal labs, New Haven, Connecticut, September 25 2009

What's the good word? - Part one

“Thoughts” generated by a belated discovery from the City of Angels, brought back to Earth after our post war aggressions: Korea Vietnam 9/11 Iraq Afghanistan.

A penny for your thoughts from Bing Crosby’s “Pennies from Heaven” in blessed memory of my mother and father...”the Name Detective and Esther Kaminsky”

The night brilliantly garbed by a full yellowish moon........dipping stars that blinked, and a wild raging wind, loomed cold and aloof in contrast with the sprawling ranch style homes it enshrouded.

In one of these magnificent dwellings resided the internationally famous husband and wife team.....animal psychologists Doctors Jenkyl and Jinx Fish, with their pet gorilla , Oscar..

On this eve every space in this combination living laboratory was lit up as thou the Fishes were engaged in a elixir of exotica and animal husbandry. A Walpurgis brouhaha.

The doctors (PHDs) were fervently graphing ... the intelligence and learning ability of Oscar. Dr. Jenkyl peering into his programmed data base....the tuneup finale of so called trials, his eyes dilating with an off the charts discovery.
“My God, , is it possible, Jinx? ”

III

Doctor Jinx, garbed in her scrubs out of General Powell’s Morris Evening High in the Bronx,, lowered her expectations..... an intuitive grasp into the futuro... a mental telepathy be knowest to no one.

“Jenkyl, my dear. I’m afraid it’s so.. My figurines and serendipity reach an inferential but evidentiary conclusion.” “ There’s nothing we can do in our lifetime, Statistics never lie.”

Doctor Jenkyl glanced at his wife and colleague with the admiration born of a life together thru the muck of thick and thin . Jinx’s enthusiasms never ran ahead of her logical down to earth alpha brain waves.

She was the perfecto in an imperfect cosmos. playing out the Fish grasp of qualitative risk assessment . Jenkyl eyes scanning the expansiveness of the Frankenstein like laboratory. searching for some elusiveness which if captured would portray a “ Glorious Basterd” but that very elusiveness eluded him. Unless you have a mind that is a stepping stone into our universe.

“Jinx where’s Oscar? He was on the floor thirty secs ago, juggling the ping pong balls.. Where can the beast be?”

Jinx’s eyes followed Jenkyl’s hand as he pointed to one ping pong ....her H was manifestly on the cusp. The ping pong was in real time but Oscar, their pet gorilla, was AWOL.....

“Jenkyl, my partner in cannibalism, do not fret so. My intuitive grasp tells me Oscar is tip toeing in his Johnny Weissmuller Tarzan of the Apes web site. ... ”

“Your female intuition has never failed us yet, Jinx,” said Jenkyl. ”I’ll go and find him without a search warrant. Interpret our data with circumspection.......

“But what can we do. Our hands are tied. Oscar is the dumbest gorilla in captivity. On land, at sea, the space station. The shuttle.”

“I’m with you Jenkyl, my comrade in cannibalism.,” said Jinx.. “Go and fetch him before he gets into our on line telemetry and grand slams our circuit . Our bill last month was just im pos sib lay.... We just have so many minutes.”

Jenkyl half heartedly drooped toward the door. His whole life’s work in and out of the scientific community spooked......by an ape. Without a cell phone to his name.. The lights flickered out. The lab thrown into primaeval darkness. .....the La Brea tar pits...the saber tooth tiger.......Dinny the dinosaur. The 2000 year old man.

“Jinx my dahling darling “The light that failed.” “Robinson Caruso and his man Friday?. Oscar having sport at our expense.” “Sport indeed. ....hasta la vista, mon amour. You claimed he’d turn them on. ..not off.” Jenkyl doubting his frau’s alpha waves, her calibration into the Weltanschauung of apes and their cannibal hosts.... An Italian standoff blasting off a gorilla’s genetic code. The genome span of biological inheritance. Right, Lorenzo? “On aggression”

VII

The laboratory steel door opened and standing in the doorway...not King Kong nor Gargantua, the moon rays streaming thru the bay windows...but Oscar...... casually flipping the house keys... “So all your ex per iments......experiments.,” stuttered the ape who never signed up for that extension course in reading lips....never learning how to enunciate the English language. “Not having the intestinal fortitude..., the presence of mind to register yours truly in Continuation, for the automated beast in all of us.”.. “To prove to academia and the hen pecking stratum beyond....I’m the dumb dumbest stupid stupides studderer in our an ni animal king kingdom alive alive. Long live the King!”

VIII

The husband wife partnership stared at each other, their monster ranting and raving like Boris Karloff in his “Frankenstein” lab. “I eaves eavesdropped on every mouthful of syl syllables, do you hear. My good Tarzan and Jane stand ins.. Shoot,” he screamed. “Play playing out your roles.....I’ve been here before. Momma Poppa....Ev er hear of past lives? “ . “Mak making me go thru all those stunts and fig nuttons. And for what, may I ask ” “Do not say.... what....what you’re thinking. ,” Oscar’s beady eyes dilated with rage.. “Patiently I strove for bonding. Going thru the mazes block play intelligence tests Kinsey like sex questionnaires hun hunger experiments, memorizing passwords. Whimp whimpering when I was lonely. Responding to frozen milky ways, you name it.. A f f e c t i o n Humbug!”

The battle weary ex civilized gorilla lunged for the computer print outs the mass of spreadsheet contradictions....software exploring his maintenance into the chic of Doctors Jenkyl and Jinx Fish. “That’s what I think of you asshole workaholics,” shredding the sheets into spit balls. “Statistics and investigations,”he hurled them like poison arrows out the Bay windows, every dart symbolizing a chunk of time spent in captivity... “Finding my voice without hiccupping is my noms de plume....an aggressiveness in tune with my nature. Not inhibited by sacrosanct mores...in other words, back to my animal grrrrrrrr... “ Intimidating authority figures. . I have more intelligence than any damn chimp chimpanzee ever had...Right, Cheetah?”..

“I’ll do whatever you ask Oscar,: said Jenkyl, cowering behind a computer workstation, his cell phone beyond reach.. “We’ll make it up to you,”said Jinx, her feminine mystique like mascara dripping onto a flat screen monitor...... ‘With these hands... I fed you lo cal shredded wheat. I bathed you. I rocked you to sleep.. I ...why I even named you Oscar.....you’re on Twitter Face Book. A celebrity, indeed.” The gorilla stared her down.......”You’re to blame. your friggen frame of mind, Why I ought to. put put you on bread and water...” Oscar picked up the ping pong ball. With all his ferociousness hurled it as thou the William Tell overture was playing..... the apple atop Jinx’s scalp. She ducked, her profound intuition saving her, the ball whizzing by her glazed coiffeur.

“I always wanted a self respecting name like Hughie. A name which distinguishes me from the .....pardon sil vous plais monsieur et madame Fish.....the beast. Shows what I got....the power of thought.,.....something neither of you lamb chops have in time memorial.” \ “My family tree always had intelli.....intelligent names......orig originating during Teutonic times. Like Hu Hugi Hugue Hugo perp perpetuating thought thru the ages.. .. “Scan Scandin Scandinavian....Sax Saxon......old French and Germ German.”

XII

Crouching behind the ape’s work station, Jenkyl joined Jinx....a united front in face of Oscar’s genealogical line.. “Tell me m’love, what does your famous infamous intuition augur... Our fates play playing out Creat creating a monster Ouch!.” “Hmmmmn,”said Jinx. “Our tongue tied ape has got you do doing it ,” Oscar darting like a NFL quarterback behind a flat screen monitor ...... programming Elgar’s “the wand of youth?” “Name naming me Oscar,” he snarled.. “To the guillotine...., dissing your ape. Where was your alpha....not aware of Hugues...Hue, Huon Hugon. An arrested development, fer’ shure.”.
Oscar shifted his lumbering lumber like a multi faceted self generating icon... grasping a table’s legs with his giant steam shovels.. .painted green with white lines, made on Apian Way... Where else, dear reader.

XIII

The psychologists Fish were dismayed at the reversal of roles.......”What did Oscar want with a ping pong table?” Didn’t the two PHD’s earlier hand him a sand papered paddle, ...a sense of audition, if you will.,,,,But the game was denounced by the gorilla. He didn’t know how to put Federer spin on the serve. Pounding his chest like a muscle bound Gorgeous George of a wrestler. hearing the sound of his own hoot....”Oscar”! .” Au contraire....Couldn’t you identify with Tarzan of the Apes, and his alto ego.?” Walking to the bay windows. “It’s a jungle out there, Jane (Maureen O Sullivan) How could you be so self serving? I would thin think you have an intell intelligence to do some rudimentary res research... . Sat scores above the national average? Trusting your fallible intuit intuition, you bungling blis blister.”. Trembling, Jinx was hit by a double helix of a whammy. First, her partner once upon a time Jenkyl, had joined in his denouement of her extra sensory perception. Her beloved gorilla had recycled her intuitive touch to be: reborn to his vast arsenal of survival.... berries caves tree houses swinging vines.... Cheetah! a second wind. “Can’t see why with such an array of names for thought, you didn’t didn’t think it thru... Fitz-Hugh son of Hugh...Pugh, the Welsh Ap-Hugh...Mackay,..Hoey...and Huson, going the avenue of mediocrity, the least line of resistance. . Picking Oscar....” Staring at Jenkyl, his jungle instincts to the fray, after years of domesticity. “Two lamp chops.. I should tear you apart and throw your carcasses to the cannibals” . “Piloting yes men like psycho logists....mercenaries hiding behind PHD’s...y’sure you didn’t merchandise the parchment from the Cologne Institute?...the going price, 5000 Euros. The Professors warehousing their credibility on the Rhine. Quid pro quo for lectured spiels.. “Hughson is a fitting name for an ape of my stat stature....Hewetson..Hutchinson...Hugginson..

XIV

Retrieving the ping pong, the ape in a frenzy of thirty lashes with a wet noodle, tore apart a wall unit. Stoking out two rubber paddles, he tossed them to his erstwhile patrons,,,,,,,you’re lucky, I’m born with empathy. A cool ape of a gorilla........”awesome” as they say on the street.. The Welsh champ, Hu Gadarn..... the Welsh patriot, Hugh of Wales... if they had their way, naming me Oscar......with your mad intellect ......” owning up to a domesticated gorilla , eating you out of house&household. Rhino grub in Capistrano, remember ” .

Oscar’s rig like gig...snatching up the green table...adjusting the net at the rods....placing the rubberized paddles and ping pong...... strode to the door. “Having pronounced human failings, your Oscar morphing as Hughie Hughes will set the tempo......” throwing back the steel door ........ waving his keys. “I’m locking you in for the duration.....a marital endurance, sweating out your skinny” “Testing your Jenkyl and Jinx chopped liver......... “ Right, Doctors? Right! The door slammed shut. The “lights out” syndrome played on. . Jinx stepped up to her side of the ping pong table. “It se seems Jenkyl m m my lo love, we we’re land locked for the du duration of our marital vows”.” “Hughie Hughes has our chopped liver mesmerized ..,, . Serve serve serve em up., dahling.”

Squinting thru the keyhole, Hughie Hughes smirked a laugh of good will as only a gorilla finding himself can... in tempestuous heat and humidity , the Big Apple, August 26, 2009 .

Introduction to Evil 101

Who knew the spying keyhole Hughie Hughes the domesticated lab assistant to Doctors Jekyl and Jinx Fish, would envelope a homicide of global proportions. "What’s the good word, Major Fenton?", September 11, 2009.

Annie Le, a 24 year old Vietnamese American, out of Northern California’s El Dorado High, forebears hailing from the Continent, was a Yale grad student, toiling in a medical school lab, her mice into cancer diabetes calibrated deliberations.

The lab securely accessed, would have been the springboard to her Long Island nuptials, Sunday September 13th with a Columbia U.grad student she met at the Maryland National Institute of Health........she was asphyxiated, her body stuffed in a wall unit by a "person of interest"

Awaiting swaps of DNA by her assailant, the Church Street authority figures beyond the New Haven Green and frisbee throwing Elis are holding their breathes, a killer in their midst. A human who had access to the password secure lab. not the nearby skeleton&bones society on High Street..

Was the assailant a lab technician commuting from a Middletown apartment complex, living with his fiancee? His sister, brother in law, animal research technicians on the med school lab payroll.

Serendipity, I say Dr. Jekyl. Remember those clean shaven scrubs in our Philosophy classes, U/ Conn Hartford, Waterbury Quinnipiac New Haven campuses......1963-69.

Jinx where’s our assailant hiding? We were grad students once, thousands of credits ago, off Yale’s Chapel Street, not unlike Stratford on the Avon’s, New Haven,,Connecticut, ensconced at Park Street’s Madison Towers..... September 16, 2009

Major Fenton, USAF Ret.