It was shortly after the arrival of my new car that I made the statement.  I didn’t intend for it to be a challenge, but this cute, young librarian I know took it that way.  So on our first anniversary, on our way to dinner, she plugged this new device into the car and played me the song History in the Making.  For those of you who don’t know the story, it is the song I sang to Maureen on our wedding day, so it was a very appropriate first song for this particular pig’s wristwatch to play.  Since that day, the librarian could be seen smiling like the Cheshire Cat any time she found me listening to the device, a fairly stripped down, basic model from what I am told.  But of course, like always, she was right, and I have since learned to shop for music at the iTunes store, although I am still a little shaky at the whole copy from my old CD thing.

Never one to be happy with just one victory, Maureen then set out to tackle my next major techno obstacle.  My Crappy Old Cell Phone.

Shortly after Christmas they arrived.  Something called a Smart Phone, although once again, a somewhat basic model.  Maureen did all the work again, transferring our service to the new phones.  It was then my son who showed me how to use Blue Tooth to transfer my contacts to the new phone.  My plan was to just call everyone and hang up, then save their numbers back into my contacts.  So within a few days, I was exposed to a brave new world were information was literally instantly available at my fingertips, but to be completely honest, information and my fingertips are really not that instantly compatible.

So then, I think that brings me up to date.  Words with Friends and mobile uploads have become a part of my everyday life, although I have still not taken the ultimate step and downloaded Angry Birds.  I will be honest, they scare me a little.  So I am officially dumping that old saying, because this is one pig that has adapted well to his new wristwatch.  Take a look.

The Pig and the Wristwatch

See, I’m as happy as a pig in …………

We spend over a month hunting around for all those just perfect items, that we almost know our kids will hate, but convince ourselves to buy anyway because this year I know I got it right, and that is the shirt that won’t end up under Alex’s bed, not to be seen again until Spring cleaning.  And it only took a little over a year of marriage for me to learn a basic lesson.  Household items do not make a good present, no matter how well intended they are, but you really can’t go wrong with basic accessories such as jewelry or purses.  Of course you also need to know that these items should not be purchased at Walmart or Meijer.  A special trip is needed to a magical place called, The Outlet Mall, and like a fish out of water, you need to visit The Coach Store.

My Children have my knack for gift wrapping!

Then must come the customary wrapping of the gifts for this festive season, a talent I have never really gotten the hang of, and judging by my present this morning, neither have my kids.  My sister Carrie is the artist of the family, and her boxes are always fancy and well put together with matching ribbons and bows.  Me, I am lucky if I cut the paper to the correct width so that I don’t have to include a patch for that part that didn’t quite get covered by my first attempt.  But the way I always looked at it, it was really never about the wrapping of the gifts, but yet the unwrapping.  Because after all the hunting and spending, then wrapping and hiding, it is really all about the time spent with family during the unwrapping that makes it all worth while.  Even in these years when we have passed the “Wow, it’s a zeppelin” stage, that magic of Christmas and just sitting around the tree opening all the brightly colored boxes is what makes the day special.  It is over in an instant, but then in the next instant we get to start looking forward to next year.  You see, it is not so much the thought that counts in this moment, but actually the time that counts.  The simple time it takes to sit down and open those gifts.  The time we spent looking and shopping for that imperfect item.  The time we will spend doing the puzzle or playing the games we bought at Toys-R-Us on Christmas Eve Eve.

And much like our food indulgence, once our gift coma wears off, we will get to those games and puzzles!

Located on the southern part of the east coast in County Kerry, Dingle and the entire Dingle Peninsula face Dingle Bay, leading out into the Atlantic Ocean.  Historically, it is a fishing town, but these days the principal industry is tourism.  It is not a big city like Galway or Dublin, but it is also not as small as Bushmills or Doolin.  With a population of around 2,000 it is almost the perfect size for travelers who want to see the best of Ireland without being overcrowded.

Our view of Dingle Bay from inside our B&B, The Greenmount House in Dingle.

We stayed at a great B&B that was listed as just outside of town called Greenmount House, although their idea of outside of town was just a few stumbling blocks uphill from the main street.  Even at the end of the night with more than just a few pints of Guiness in us, it was still a pleasant walk home.  We arrived in Dingle in the late afternoon and had time for a walk in the cool November air before we headed to Greenmount House.  We staked out possible places for dinner and a night cap, then decided on a nap before our night out.

Much like Chicago in the winter, the sun starts to set around 4:30 on Ireland in November, so by the time we napped and showered, it was already dark as we headed out into the night.  To be honest, I do not remember the name of the resturaunt we stopped at for dinner, but as with most places we ate at it was a warm and friendly spot.  Since we were on the bay, I decided on seafood, a very nice white fish that was indeed fresh and delicious.  Maureen opted for what would become our favorite Irish dish, the Guinness Pie.  After we ate and consumed a couple of pints, we headed out into the night to find a place to rest our traveler’s feet, and we chose a most unopposing little storefront called Dick Mack’s.

Before we departed for Ireland, Maureen had informed me of a therory she had about drinking with locals in Ireland.  Basically, you need to convince the locals of your serious intent as a drinker, and it will usually take two or three pints before they open up to newcomers, so you need to buckle down and order a few pints and wait them out.  This was indeed the case in Dick Mack’s.  Officially, it is a haberdashery, as many pubs in Ireland have dual purpose, but other than the Guinness, there was really nothing very haberdashery about the pub.  At first glance, it looks like the type of place your mother warned you to stay out of, with dirty floors and a side bar made of planks of wood, but we ordered two pints and found a place to sit and talk in the near empty space.

After two rounds, it looked as if we may have failed, as our longest conversation of the night had been with a Porchagese sailor that was mostly conducted in broken Spanish that I could not understand at all.  I suggest we move on, but Maureen insisted we wait them out for one more pint, so we ordered again.  And at that point her theory took hold, and suddenly we were making a whole room full of new and interesting friends.

To call the group at Dick Mack’s an eclectic bunch is a bit of an understatment.  A bit like the Island of Misfit Toys, the crowd that gathered in the back room around a small table near the fireplace gave the appearance of a cross section of lost souls, but were one of the more open and welcoming groups we would meet during our stay.  With names like Paddy and Sean, and an older woman we knew only as The Queen, it would end up being our most authentic night in Ireland.  We sang songs, and listened to people recite poetry, and Paddy played the tin whistle.  That little back room with the fireplace became our home for the rest of the night, except for the occational trip out back to the restroom, or back up to the bar for another pint.  That is until our bartender finally told us we had to leave.

At that point, with more than enough warming fuel in our blood, we probably should have called it a night, but we decided to follow Sean up the road a little.

Next stop, An Droicead Beag.

Our eclectic little group gathers in the back room at Dick Mack's in Dingle.

So every year, when that day after Thanksgiving would roll in, and I was still comatose from too much pumpkin pie and stuffing, others would boost our economy.  I know, I know, I hear it every year.  It is the start of the Christmas shopping season, and all the best deals are available.  I get it, I just don’t want to be a part of it.  You see, as strange as this may seem when you consider the size of my family and the job that I do, I don’t really like people.  So being in a crowd I don’t know, and most probably don’t like, with people pushing and grabbing at things I don’t want or need, is not what I would consider a good time.

To me, Black Friday was just a day off of work.  And for many years it was not even that.  Much like Maureen yesterday, Black Friday used to be an all day work event.  It was working a window at the United Center for three shows of “The Greatest Show On Earth.”  It was dealing with people who “thought” they had tickets to the 3:00 show, when they actually had tickets to the earlier showing at 11:00.  Of course it is always the computers fault, and not the operator who ordered the tickets.

For most of my life, the whole concept of Black Friday was not even an afterthought for me.  It was irritating commercial breaks, and filler news stories.  It had absolutely no effect on my life.  That is until last year.

One year ago today, Black Friday became a new type of holiday.  It became my anniversary.  Yesterday morning when we got up, I wished Maureen a Happy Anniversary, and she shook her head and rolled her eyes, convinced that her husband was once again an idiot, and I quickly stopped her and said, “It’s Black Friday.”  We had made so many jokes about it last year, that she instantly understood and smiled, content with the fact that we now will have two anniversaries in most years.

Black Friday has taken on a whole new meaning for me, but you still wont catch me anywhere near a store or a mall.  It is now the day my life changed, and I married my best friend.  Happy Anniversary, Babe.  Here is to many more great Black Fridays!

My Top Ten Favorite Ramones Songs!

10.  Baby, I Love You

Many would say that this song would epitomise all that was wrong with the Phil Spector era in Ramones history.  To them I would say, screw it.  I like the song.  The customary Marky Ramone heavy drum beat combined with a string section on a cover version of the classic Rosette’s tune.  Spector was brought on board to help make the band more commercially successful, and he did just that.  Baby, I Love You was the band’s most successful single, reaching #8 on the UK charts, and End of the Century was the bands highest charting album in both the US and the UK.

9.  Do You Remember Rock ‘n’ Roll Radio?

Another Phil Spector inspired song that stretched the standard that was The Ramones, it was also off of the album End of the Century.  The title of the album comes from the lyrics in this song.  But I always had one little problem with the song.  The addition of the synthesizer in the song seems to mimic almost exactly, at least to my untrained ear, the beginning of the song Radio, Radio by Elvis Costello.  Although I could find no reference to the similarity anywhere on the internet.  I suggest giving both a listen.

8.  Pet Sematary

Written for the movie adaptation of the Stephen King novel, Pet Sematary , it was included on The Ramones 1989 release Brain Drain.  Technically, it is the highest charting single for the band, reaching number 4 on the Modern Rock charts, now more commonly referred to as the Alternate Rock charts.  But when you consider that this particular chart didn’t exist until 1988, it is hard to put into perspective just how popular the song was as compared to other Ramones songs.  It did however make one great ending to the movie, and if the remake that has been floating around Hollywood for years ever does get made, they would do well to include this song again.

7.  Pinhead

Inspired by the 1932 movie Freaks, this song coined one of The Ramones more famous chants.  Gabba Gabba, Hey!  From their second album, Leave Home, the song quickly became a concert favorite, with a dancing roadie in a Pinhead mask coming out on stage during the song.  Or at least that is how I remember it way back in 1980 when my friend Jimmy and I saw The Ramones at the College of DuPage.  I am also pretty sure that the song was the inspiration for the current kid’s show Yo Gabba Gabba, but I have no proof of that.

6.  Rock ‘n’ Roll High School

Another movie theme song, but this time for the 1979 film which stared Vince Van Patten and Clint Howard.  I have never seen the movie, and that is probably a good thing, although I would imagine curiosity would eventually get the better of me and I would have to dust off an old VHS machine and watch it.  That is if a copy of the film still exists.  The song was re-mixed and re-released on End of the Century, but the original from the movie soundtrack is considered by most the better rendition.

5.  The KKK Took My Baby Away

From the 1981 album Pleasant Dreams, this song was rumored to be about Joey stealing Johnny’s girlfriend.  The possible implications aside, it is just a classic piece of Ramones.  Heavy drum beats and simple cords played at rocket speed and coming in at just over two and a half minutes.

4.  Bonzo Goes to Bitburg

Originally released in 1985 as a single only in the United Kingdom, the song was later renamed My Brain is Hanging Upside Down and was released on the album Animal Boy.  It was written as a protest to President Reagan’s visit to a military cemetery in Bitburg, West Germany, were 49 known Nazi SS members were buried.  Joey Ramone, whose real name was Jeffry Ross Hyman and of Jewish decent, took offence to the visit as did many Jewish and Veterans groups.  But the song also caused strife within the band, since Johnny was a supporter of  Reagan and a far right conservative.  He was also a collector of Nazi propaganda.

3.  Sheena is a Punk Rocker

This is the song I cut my Ramones teeth on.  From their third album, Rockets to Russia, it tells the story of a young girl who was tired of the disco and turned to Punk Rock.  Nothing deep or meaningful, but full of energy and lots of fun.  As with many of the better Ramones songs, the lyrics are minimized.  What more do you need to know?  “Sheena is a punk rocker now.”

2.  I Wanna Be Sedated

Possibly one of the Ramones best known songs, it appeared on their 1978 release, Road to Ruin.  It was written by Joey as a complaint about how boring life was while on the road touring.  When Maureen and I visited the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame a few years ago, in one room we watched a recorded interview with Joey shortly before his death from lymphoma.  The interviewer asks him at one point why he always wrote such short songs, and in all seriousness he says he didn’t.  They were actually long songs, but that they just played them really, really fast.  I instantly thought of this song.

1.  Blitzkrieg Bop

Vanessa Williams may have saved the best for last, but that just wasn’t going to fly with The Ramones.  The very first song, on their very first album, it has been called by some, the two minutes that changed the face of music.  The song launched The Ramones career, and set a standard for the band and all of music for the next twenty years.  Blitzkrieg Bop will be found on almost any list of Top Rock songs of all time, and was the song played by Green Day at the 2002 Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremony for The Ramones.

What else is there to say?

Hey Ho!  Let’s Go!

ChicagoFest began in 1978, and I believe my mom took us there that first year with my grandmother, because Grandma Lu worked for the Tribune at the time and got free passes.  I don’t think any of us knew what to expect that first year, but as I recall, Grandma Lu hated it.  I don’t think my mom was too fond of it either, but me, I loved it.  ChicagoFest was set up out on Navy Pier.  Oh, not the Navy Pier that is currently the number one tourist destination in Chicago, with its giant Ferris Wheel and mall.  Navy Pier back in 1978 was a run down, rickety, old abandoned cargo port, but for two weeks in the summer, it was transformed into one of the best music festivals the city had ever seen.

But ChicagoFest wasn’t just about the music, although that was my big attraction, it was a compete city festival that included a carnival style arcade, food vendors, live news broadcasts, and The Bozo Show for the kids.  I believe even Phil Donahue broadcast his talk show from one of the stages.  But the star of the show was still all the music.  The Main Stage was located out in front of the pier, but all of the other music was set up on floating stages along the side of the pier.  They all had different themes, country, jazz, blues, and rock were just a few, and they were all sponsored by local radio and tv stations, so you ended up with names like, the WLUP Classic Rock Stage.  I believe that first year we saw the band Chicago on the main stage, which I believe was sponsored by the Chicago Tribune.

With my advancing age, sometimes memories can get a little shuffled up.  I know Jimmy and I headed into the city on more than one occasion to attend ChicagoFest, the first was in 1979 before our freshman year.  We saw Alice Cooper on the main stage.  We took the train downtown with Jimmy’s older brother, and I may have forgotten to tell my mother where we were going.  But I can’t honestly remember if it was the summer of 1981 or 1982 when we drove down to the fest in my dad’s old Chevy Malibu station wagon.  I thought we had originally gone to see a band called The Kings, you know , of This Beat Goes On/Switchin’ to Glide fame.  We also saw a couple of local bands that were starting to gain some popularity, the first being an Oak Park band called Off Broadway who had mild hits with the songs Stay in Time and Full Moon Turn My Head Around, and another lesser known band that was just starting out called The Kind.

The Kind released their first self titled album in 1982 on an independent local label called  Three-Sixty Records.  The band consisted of four members, Frank Jalovec on lead vocals and guitar, Frank Capek on lead guitar, Mark Gardner on bass, and Frank Sberno on drums.  I bought my own copy of the album at a local record store and head shop called, The Flip Side, but it has long ago been lost.  One of my favorite songs on the record was a heavy guitar piece called Total Insanity, and there was also a very good cover version of The Supremes’ Stop! In the Name of Love.  But by far, the gem of the album was an iconic 80′s local favorite called Loved By You.

Back in the summer of 1982, the radio world had yet to become the super station conglomerate it is today, and there was still a little freedom at local stations to play the music they liked , not just the national hits controlled by a list put out by a corporate office in some other city.  Back then, radio stations were a little bit more in touch with their local audience, and because of this, from time to time, a local act could still manage to get a little airplay. And that is what happened with the song Loved By You.  In early August of that year, The song cracked the WLS Silver Dollar Survey, debuting at number 44 on the Top Forty-five singles chart.  The Kind had actually already been on the Thirty-three top album chart for about a month, but the inclusion on the singles chart insured further air play.

Over the past month or so, I have put together a bunch of ideas.  All great things that I wanted to expound upon here in my own little blog home.  But alas, I didn’t find the time, or never finished writing, and then the world changed again, and more ideas sprouted, only to get lost in the mass jumble that is my brain.  Then the opportunity was lost, and you, the readers, were saved from having to try to decipher my sometimes incoherent ramblings.

So in case you were ever wondering, and I guess even if you weren’t, I now present my Top Ten list of things I wanted to write about, but never got around too.  I can tell you are so thrilled!

10.  The Girl and the Goat

Having heard mixed reviews and canceling a reservation, Maureen and I headed out to Stephanie Izzard’s restaurant here in Chicago and were more than pleased with the outcome.  How can you go wrong when you order something called a Pig Face, and it comes with a fried egg on top of the crispy cheek meat?  And this restaurant did something I never thought anyone would ever be able to do.  Made brussel sprouts that I truly enjoyed.  This wasn’t your mom’s mushy old brussel sprouts.  Pan fried and yummy!  And then there was dessert.  Something called Chocolate Bouchon with Foie Fluff.  I have no idea what a bouchon is, and neither did our waitress, but it tasted even better than it looked.  Yes, that is a toasted foie gras marshmallow next to the milk chocolate sorbet.

9.  Saying Goodbye to an Old Friend

I got a call a few weeks ago, and the first thing Maureen says to me over the phone is, “Don’t be mad at me.”  The next thing she tells me is that someone is on their way to pick up my crappy old car, she had traded it in on a new one.  How could I be mad?  Look what they left in its place.  I’m not sure when someone will be stopping by to pick up my crappy old phone.

8.  The Return of William Kelly

It appears that my favorite producer of Emmy Award winning television was back at it again.  This time it was another confrontation dealing with Mayor Rahm Emanuel, and Kelly did a pretty good job of making an ass of himself.  If you care to watch the video, he posted it on his Washington Times “Communities” sight.  It is the only place where you will find this scathing video.  Because basically no one else cared.

7.  Jim Henson Presents (part two)

I was planning to post two additional blogs based on the idea of the White Sox as Muppets, but then came that announcement with just two games left in the season, and it just didn’t seem like such a good idea anymore.  This is the picture I had picked out to represent Ozzie Guillen and General Manager Ken Williams.

6.  A Case for Terry Francona

It wasn’t that I was endorsing Francona to take over as the new White Sox manager, and to be honest, I really didn’t think he had a chance at getting the job, but I already had my Muppet picture of him all picked out.

5.  Chase-ing My Tail

I have on a number of occasions come close to putting together a full length expose about the many problems I have had with Chase Bank, but when I would try to tell the tale, it always got too bogged down with details, and it just came out sounding bitter and whinny.  Let’s just leave it at this.  I am not a big fan of Chase.

4.  Washington State is at Dunne

It was a Saturday afternoon, and I didn’t have the kids.  Maureen was working, and I decided to meet up with two of my sisters and my brother-in-law Jim at one of our favorite taverns.  A great little place on Lincoln called Finley Dunne’s.  They were relaxing after running a 5K.  I was there for the Mac-n-Cheese Bites and some cold beer.  Also in the bar was a Chicago Alumni group from Washington State, and wisely they chose this same bar to watch their Cougars take on the Aztecs of San Diego State.  The Cougars would eventually lose, but it was close for three quarters, and even those of us that were there to watch the Illini play, couldn’t help but get drawn into the excitement of this group.  Soon we were all rooting for Washington State.

3.  And The Winner Is…..

I was going to take another stab at predicting the outcome of this years baseball post season.  I was absolutely certain that the Cardinals and Rangers would be playing in this years World Series.  Next week I will let you know who I think will win.

2.  The Top Ten

At least once a week, I come up with another idea for a top ten list.  Usually it happens while driving to work, because even on a good day it takes me over an hour to get the 26 miles from my driveway to work.  I have a lot of time to think.  Unfortunately I do not have a lot of time to write it all down while in the car, so most of the ideas get lost between the parking lot and my desk.  What I do have is a number of scribbled lists tucked into the drawers of my desk, and I promise that sometime soon I will get some of these lists posted.  This one doesn’t count.

1.  Our Treacherous Ireland Holiday (parts nine through thirteen or fourteen or maybe even fifteen)

It has been almost a year since we took our honeymoon trip to the emerald isle, and there is still a lot of story to be told.  Both Maureen and I have tried to pick up the story, but we have yet to finish it.  The story was to conclude with a unique pictorial, inspired by our own favorite Irish Pub here in Chicago.  I may have to cheat, and skip to the final chapter.

Please, don’t try to read too much into this.  It is just the way my strange mind works.

Leading Off and playing Left Field, Juan Pierre:

Batting Second and playing Short Stop, Alexei Ramirez:

Batting in the third spot and playing First Base, Paul Konerko:

Batting Fourth.  The Designated Hitter.  Adam Dunn:

Batting Fifth and playing Right Field, Carlos Quentin:

In the Sixth Spot.  The Center Fielder, Alex Rios:

Batting Seventh and doing the Catching, A.J. Pierzynski:

Batting Eight and playing Third, Brent Morel:

And batting Ninth, the Second Baseman, Gordon Beckham:

And Coming Next – The Pitching Staff

The day seems ready to proceed just like any other Sunday.  Then I opened the paper and read something that put it all in perspective for me.  Hidden on page 22A of the Sun-Time was a recollection by Carol Marin.  She is a local Chicago news woman who just happened to be in New York on the morning of 9/11, and she found herself reporting from the base of the Twin Towers ten years ago today.  Here is just a portion of her article:

The firefighter

First and foremost is the firefighter whose name I may never know who saved me in the crash of the second tower of the World Trade Center.

I was at the time a correspondent for CBS News and was in New York the morning of the attacks. When the planes hit the towers, I raced to the site to cover the story. I was on West Street, within a block or two of the north tower, when the ground rumbled and roared. And a firefighter screamed at me to “Run!”

A fireball of ignited jet fuel consumed the base of the north tower as the building melted and crashed into the ground. The firefighter threw me against a nearby building and shielded my body with his. I could feel the pounding of his heart against my backbone. 

In seconds the air was black and thick with debris.

If the building didn’t kill us, I thought, the air was going to.

My firefighter handed me off to a New York City cop before I could ask the firefighter his name. And that police officer, Brendan Duke, and I walked hand in hand, our other hands covering our faces in an effort not to breathe in the bits and pieces of everything and everyone housed within those buildings that once defined the New York skyline.

Step-by-step, street-by-street, we made it into clearer air until we could see daylight again. And breathe again.

It was a New York City bus driver, Bill McRay, who picked me up, all covered in ash, and drove me back to the CBS Broadcast Center where I walked onto the news set, sat down with Dan Rather and reported what I’d seen.

My great regret for the last 10 years is that I never got the name of the firefighter who saved me. But he was gone in an instant, turning back toward the site of the tower’s collapse.

I pray he is alive. And well. 

So let’s start there.  Yes, things are different today.  They are better.  Cars are safer, technology has put information at your finger tips, there are a gazillion television stations, schools let you re-take tests if you do poorly, and society as a whole is much more tolerant of different races and sexual orientations.  Those are just a few things I could come up with off the top of my head.  Given time I am sure I could come up with a whole lot more.  But all that aside, let’s look at the basic flaw in the whole “things are different today” argument.  How the hell do you know that?  Were you around when I was a teenager?  Do you think you invented the whole concept of the anguished teen whose parents just can’t understand them?  Rebel Without a Cause came out in 1955.  Patrick Swayze, Tom Cruise, and Ralph Macchio were The Outsiders in 1983, based on the 1965 S.E. Hinton novel that is still taught  and relevant in many high schools today.  Just like you, your parents dealt with cliques, peer pressure, drugs and alcohol, school work, and parents.  And they rolled their eyes at their parents just like you are doing right now while reading this.  So really, what is so different?

This is usually where the more astute teen will bring up Columbine.  It is sort of the Holy Grail of the “things are different today” philosophy.  Don’t get me wrong, I am not making light of what happened there in 1999, but it is certainly not the starting point of school shootings or tragedy.  One of the more infamous school shootings happened in 1979, the year I started high school, when 16-year-old Brenda Ann Spencer opened fire on a San Diego elementary school playground, killing two and injuring nine.  When finally captured, Brenda’s only explanation was that she didn’t like Mondays, and that the shootings livened up her day.  Bob Geldof later used the incident as inspiration for the Boomtown Rats song, “I Don’t Like Mondays.”

Closer to home in Winnetka, Illinois, there was also the strange case of the former babysitter Laurie Dann, who entered a second grade classroom in 1988 with three hand guns, killing two and injuring nine before she took her own life in a police stand off.  Prior to that event, in 1974, a 14 year-old student entered Clara Barton Elementary School in Chicago with two guns, killing the principal and injuring three others before a teacher managed to disarm the child.

Then there was an incident that affected my own school, Wheaton Central High School.  It happened in 1985, two years after I had graduated, but my younger sister was attending the school at that time.  It didn’t happen inside the school, but it does give light to the sort of teenaged problems that existed then, that are really no different from what kids are dealing with today.  It involved a young couple named Larry Brock and Amy Boyle.  Larry was 16, and Amy was 15, and Amy’s family was preparing to move out east to where her father had been transferred for work.  Rather than face separation, the young couple decided to run away and get married.  Their trip would take them to Colorado, and they ended up bring along with them an unexpected guest, 15 year-old Patrick Beach.  In a remote camp sight in the mountains of Southern Colorado, for reasons that only Pat Beach could possible understand, Larry and Amy were both shot to death with a .22 caliber hunting rifle.

Pat Beach pled guilty to the two murders and was sentenced to twenty years, but as part of a plea agreement he was sent to a state mental hospital where he was to stay indefinitely, until a judge could be convinced he was no longer a danger to himself or to others.  Dr. John Macdonald of the Forensic Psychiatry Department at the University of Colorado, testified at the time that Beach showed no remorse for what he had done, and that he admitted that he would do it again if given the chance.  Dr. Macdonald told the court about a socially isolated young man with a high IQ of 134, but a low self-esteem.  He talked about a child whose parents were divorced, and who had conflicts with his mother and step father.  There were problems with neighborhood bullies, and a conflicted sexual obsession with Amy Boyle.  There was also an intense involvement with the role-playing game Dungeons & Dragons, but Dr. Macdonald downplayed the games importance in the actual killings, saying it was just another adverse factor in what was an overall unhealthy childhood.

So what really has changed so much over the past twenty-five years.  Replace Dungeons & Dragons with any number of on-line interactive video games, and take the bully out of the neighborhood and put him in cyber space, but other than that the basics are still the same.  The thing you young adults don’t seem to get is that your parents are not the enemy.  They are tough on you because they want you to succeed.  They get mad when homework is not done, because they know how important an education is to your future.  They get upset when you take things that don’t belong to you, because they want you to learn respect for others, and for yourself.  When your parents had children, they took on the responsibility of raising and guiding you to adulthood.  Raising you is their job, and most parents take that job very seriously.  It shouldn’t take a tragedy to convince you that your parents are there for you, and that they love you.

If you really took the time, and put yourself in your parents position, would you honestly do anything different?  If your child lied to you, would you just let it go, or would you let them know that you are not dumb and that you realized they just lied to you?  If you asked them to do something and then got home and they didn’t do it, would you be fine with that?  If they trashed the house or apartment that you worked so hard to afford for them, would that be ok with you?

I know all your eyes are rolling again, but you may want to stop for a few seconds and think about these things.  Because twenty some years ago I was right where you are now.  A smart ass teen who knew better than either of my parents, and there was nothing anyone could say to convince me otherwise.  What I didn’t know at that time was that it was not them who didn’t understand life, but it was me.  And it took having children of my own to show me just how wrong I had been all those years.

In closing, I am going to leave you with a little bit of wisdom that was passed on to me from my own father many years ago.

Before you can be a smart ass, you first have to be smart.  Otherwise you are just an ass.