UFOs

Crashed B-17 pieces

I wouldn't be surprised if that's what the crew on the "WE HAUL JUNK" truck will label most of the "treasures" they transfer from the Ed Myers lower level recording studio/office/museum and power nap Palace to the Fairfax County Landfill.

For example the contents of this box does look as if it might be pieces...well ...of anything...from an old rusty tractor  to a Martian spacecraft.  But what it actually contains is two strips of metal from a US Army B-17 that was shot down by the Germans in 1944.

However, this is one treasure I'm going to make sure is preserved, and not allowed to go to the Grim Trucker. 

50 cal shell from B-17

A friend of mine and I stumbled upon an audio tape made by an American B-17 crewman who was one of two men who survived a crash over enemy territory near Belgium. Albert Macuch was his name, and he made an audio tape for his grand kid's school project describing his ordeal in detail some 50 years after the event. His daughter found it tucked away in a drawer after Macuch passed away, but was unable to play it.  She asked my friend if he would listen to it and let her know what was on it.

Not only did he listen to it, he brought it over to my home recording studio and with a little bit of editing and lots of sound effects, we tuned the tape into a radio drama.

Thanks to the internet and a lot of luck we made contact with a man in Belgium, William Liket (hopefully I spelled his name right} who lived near where Macuch's plane crashed and was kind enough to send us a picture of the downed plane as well as a few pieces of the wreckage. He also sent me an original watercolor painting of the event by a local artist named Liket Pieter.

Macuch's crashed B-17

The only two survivors of the crash were Albert Macuch, who was the tail gunner, and the pilot, Frank Schick. Macuch was the most badly injured and was unable to move. Schick was able to walk, so he went searching for help.  Unfortunately, he was captured by the Germans whereas Macuch was later rescued by Belgium partisans.

Next time you have 25 minutes to kill, you might want to take a listen to THE ALBERT MACUCH STORY.

The only reward my friend and I received was the pleasure of producing a very good story

Painting by Liket Pieter

that honors a few of our many heroes; those men and women who fought and won our freedom in WW2.
It was also gratifying to know that we spread the word of their heroics to a few more people.

We received a nice note from Albert Macuch's daughter Helen;

"My father's story has been passed along to many states, and throughout Europe. Now his story along with his picture is on display at the Remember 39-45 Museum in Belgium. Many thanks to you for producing his story, and I will always have my Father's voice to listen to. God Bless." Helen And this one from his nephew:
Albert Macuch "This story is by and about my Uncle Al, he passed away shortly after taping this. Most of us in the family never heard this whole story. It was too difficult for him to talk about." E.D. Olver We also got a nice note from Frank Schick III, the pilot's son:

This was recounted by my mother Lucile.

'When Frank's plane was shot down, he was initially declared KIA. His family in Chicago

Macuch (standing 2nd from  L) Schick knelling 2nd from L)

received a telegram from the War Dept. declaring that he was considered KIA. Due to a misspelling of his surname, Shick vs Schick, no one ever corrected his status from KIA to POW. Upon his release from the POW camp
at the end of the war, Frank was originally weighed in stones so that his loss of weight wouldn't appear
too severe. When he was discharged from the Army, he let himself into his house using a key that he kept attached to his dog tags and stood there. His mother couldn't believe her eyes'

Frank J. Schick III

-Ed

Are We Having Fun Yet?

 Yeah, it's been a ball!

The stories that I've posted here were written orginally for my very first website, CHS54.net. I started it for my Charlotte NC high school class of 1954.
 It goes back to at least 2004 which was shortly after personal "blogs" first began to appear.

This is my latest posting for my Geezer friends of 1954:

I love telling stories, especially to my old high school friends.

It's my way of "staying connected" although I haven't lived in Charlotte since 1961 and missed sharing our young mature years "up the career ladder" (as well as an occasional mis-step or two) and watching our families grow.

Jerry Gaudet 1954

But this website wouldn't have been possible without that very special...one in a thousand...incredibly talented Jerry Gaudet!
His brilliant organizational skills have kept this class together.

Also, the stars were aligned just right....and the Internet came along....and before we knew it, we had a "home room" in the sky!

Now I realize that CHS54 is mostly full of MY stories and observations. However, I didn't intend it that way. I post any and every story sent to me by our classmates.

But I get very few.

That's perfectly understandable. Most people don't like to "write." They did that in English class for 12 or so years AND THAT"S ENOUGH!

I don't blame you.  But I like telling stories and having done it just about all my life...I'm going to keep doing it. Even though there will continue to be some real "clunkers" in here....I need to keep posting, otherwise you folks will stop coming to the site and it will die.  So it's necessary to keep it "fresh."  (Anyway, that's what they teach in website school.)

Also, I'm determined to keep the site POSITIVE, although it's getting harder and harder.

For example as you complete filling out your income tax.....

Try to ignore the fact that the US STATE Department lost over $6 Billion because of the improper filing of contracts during the past 6 years, during the tenure of former Secretary of State Hilary Clinton.

But think of it this way, "What difference now does it make."


Also, think of how much SAFER we'll all be now that more government agencies are authorized to carry GUNS:

The EPA at work

• The U.S. Department of Education
• The Bureau of Land Management (200 uniformed law enforcement rangers and 70 special agents)
• The U.S. Department of the Interior
• The U.S. Postal Inspection Service (with an armed uniformed division of 1.000)
• The National Park Service (made up of NPS protection park rangers and U.S. Park Police officers that operate independently)
• The Environmental Protection Agency (200 special agents)
• The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service (224 special agents)
• The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration

Time Magazine 1977

That’s right, NOAA — the folks who forecast the weather, monitor the atmosphere and keep tabs on the oceans and waterways — has its own law enforcement division. It has a budget of $65 million and consists of 191 employees, including 96 special agents and 28 enforcement officers who carry weapon

Hint...you better start believing in GLOBAL WARMING, or else!

Sleep well tonight.

-Ed

Nothing Is So Good That...

...the government can't screw it up!"

Not being content with destroying the world's best health care system and everything else they touch,

they have inadvertently destroyed APRIL FOOLS DAY.

Is there anything that you can say about what our government is doing ...that is so absurd, over the top, and ridiculous......that no one would believe........

and then you could surprise them and shout....APRIL FOOL!

I can't, can you?


For Example:  True or "APRIL FOOL?"



The State Department is planning to spend $400,000 to purchase a fiberglass statue of a white camel for a new U.S. embassy being built in Pakistan, BuzzFeed first reported Monday, citing contracting records.
The sculpture, by artist John Baldessari, is of a life-size albino camel staring upward at the eye of a huge needle.

TRUE

-Ed

M-I-C-K-E-Y

I was told that a friend of mine fell for one of those phony phone calls pretending to be from one of her grandchildren....asking, of course, for money.

Now, she is $6,000 poorer.

PLEASE BE CAREFUL!

We are particular vulnerable because of WHEN and HOW we were raised.  We are not programed to be suspicious of our fellow humans.  It's not natural for us.

As I look back on it, I think one of the shortcomings of our upbringing was......

not that we spent too much time in Sunday School.......BUT.....we should have spent a little more time in  DEVIL SCHOOL...learning a little about the "Flip" side of humanity.

However, maybe just about everybody but me instinctively picked this up on their own.
 ...

I recently retired. I thought it might take some getting used to...you know...sitting around doing nothing.

Nope, I'm sure I will eventually take  to it like a duck to water, a pig to mud.......whatever. I was born for this kind of life!

However, that hasn't happened yet. I think I already have a new career;  one that I don't want: WORKING FOR THE
GOVERNMENT!

Since I no longer had health insurance from my employer, I signed up for Medicare.
Most of you probably went through that exercise a number of years ago.  I was told how simple it is
to sign up via the Internet...."Just takes 5 minutes," they told me,.

I knew that was too good to be true.

I sat down at my computer....signed on.....and the first question I was asked was, WHAT IS YOUR NAME?

I typed in my name...and the website replied,

WRONG!

...and told me to visit my Social Security office on the other side of Alexandria, VA and wait 6 hours to speak to a Medicare specialist in person.

Well, it got worse from there.

But to make a long story short, I finally got signed up and received my Medicare Card and promptly
took it to Kinkos and got it laminated, so it wouldn't get shredded  from taking it out and in of my wallet hundred of times over the coming years.

All was well, until last week...when all of the bills that I had charged on my pretty red, white and blue Medicare card began bouncing back to me..............saying Medicare refused to pay....

I started back through the Government minefield and was eventually told,

"Yes, you signed up.....and we sent you the card....BUT we DIDN'T know you wanted to use it!

You mean, you want us to be your insurance provider!"

Now, they phrased that in their unique bureaucratic lingo, but that was the message.

It's like if you were to buy a new car........and the dealer shows up at your house a week later...and takes it back, saying, "Well, you didn't tell us you wanted to DRIVE it!"

Your Government at work.

-Ed

Our Turn

For years now, every two weeks some group in this country is OFFENDED by something or other that we ordinary Americans have been doing as part of our normal lives that suddenly OFFEND them.

One of these days, we're going to snap back and tell these bullies to 'Go to Hell."

But, until then, it appears that we're just going to continue to "roll over."

But meanwhile, I want to suggest that chronologically gifted people like me have a little fun and "take our turn" at being offended.

Read on:

A friend of mine was telling me about the night he thought he was having a heart attack...and his wife called for an ambulance.

By the time the medics arrived, the pain had stopped and he felt totally normal.

He informed the responders of this, but they insisted he be taken to the hospital anyway. They said it was a county rule.

He complained bitterly, because he felt that it was a false alarm.

Long story short, by the time he got back home, two new stents had been planted in his heart.

He probably needed them, but he'll never be convinced of that. He's still angry about it.

But according to him....the hospital added insult to injury when he read the official record of that evening's event; it stated that...."On the evening of...such and such....the ambulance brought in an ELDERLY man suffering chest pains..."

"Imagine that," he told me........(he was 78 at the time) "calling me ELDERLY!"

Yeah. I'm with him!  I don't want anyone calling me ELDERLY...although that's what I am.

I don't want anyone calling me a SENIOR CITIZEN either, unless they're going to give me a discount.

I did a little research on the subject and discovered that a lot of people are undecided about how to refer to us:

Harry Moody, 67, director of academic affairs for AARP, says 

"What’s going on is we have a problem with the subject itself. Everyone wants to live longer, but no one wants to be old.

Personally, I tend to use the term “older people” because it’s the least problematic. Everyone is older than someone else."

Jane Glen Haas, 74, nationally syndicated newspaper columnist:

Don’t call anyone “elderly.” I associate that with people with physical disabilities who need constant care.

“Senior citizens” is a term coined in the late 1930s for people who needed a place to go, senior centers, to have a good lunch. To me, it implies somewhat impoverished older people, not the way people want to think of themselves.

“Aging” — to me that sounds like I’m declining.

I guess “older people” is best. I suppose if you had to call me something, I’d prefer that it be “writer” or “an older writer.”

Judith Graham, writing for Time Magazine says,

"Now the Aging Services of California, has put together a stylebook to guide media professionals through the minefield of politically correct and politically incorrect ways of identifying and portraying the elderly.

Lesson one. “Elderly” is a word the two organizations would prefer we eliminate. In the glossary of the new stylebook, “Media Takes: On Aging,’’ the authors state their case against “elderly” as follows.

Use this word carefully and sparingly. The term is appropriate only in generic phrases that do not refer to specific individuals, such as concern for the elderly, a home for the elderly, etc. In other words, describing a person as elderly is bad form, although the generalized category “elderly” might not be offensive. (Suggested substitutions include “older adult” or simply “man’’ or “woman” with the age inserted, if relevant.)

Also to be avoided are “senior citizen” (we don’t refer to people under age 50 as “junior citizens,” the guide notes) and “golden years” (euphemisms are probably not the best way to go, we learn). “Feisty,” “spry,” “feeble,” “eccentric,” “senile” and “grandmotherly” are also unwelcome terms, patronizing and demeaning, as is calling someone “80 years young.”

The guide is ambivalent on use of the word “home” as a replacement for “skilled nursing facility.” On the one hand, it can be both anachronistic and condescending to harken back to “old folks’ homes,” which is one of the reasons Aging Services of California changed its name from the California Association of Homes and Services for the Aging. But elsewhere the guide notes (see paragraph four above) that “these facilities are indeed people’s homes,” often permanently. Thus, the people who live there should be called “residents” rather than “patients.”

 She goes on to mention other words that the guide  says should be avoided are:

 “biddy,” “codger,” “coot,” “crone,” “fogy,” “fossil,” “geezer,” “hag,” “old fart,” “old goat,” “prune,” “senile old fool” and “vegetable.”

Who would have thought.

-Ed

I'll Never Forget Old What's His Name

 Almost everything has a downside. Take, for example, our 60th High School reunion scheduled for May 9th.

What?

A downside to getting together with our old friends from high school and reliving those days when we were all young and beautiful...and smart as Hell?

Yep.

Remembering the names of all those unforgettable friends !

54 Class Officers Max Evans on right

Say for example, you are talking to one of your best and most memorable friends you haven't seen in 60 years.....and as the two of you start laughing about some obscure happening in history class in 1952...you suddenly realize that you can't think of his name!

I know what I'm talking about. The last time we had a reunion, Max Evans and I were in the middle of some such deep remembrance and I interrupted the conversation to introduce Max to my wife Linda.

Max Robinson

It dawned on me days later that I had introduced him as "Max Robinson."

(Max Robinson was the first black man to anchor an evening TV network news program. A fellow I
had worked with in the early 60's.)

Max Evans was not only a President of the Class and a star on the Football team...and I botched his name!  He was too nice to correct me.

I can't wait to see him in a couple of months and apologize.

Who knows what other names I mangled or forgot completely.

(Answer: All those whose names I screwed up.)

THE SOLUTION

Here's a trick that might work:

Whenever you walk up to one of our long ago classmates, pronounce YOUR name first.

"Hi... Ed Myers..."

and the response will usually be, "Hi... Max Evans....how are you, Ed....."

That way he is now certain of YOUR name......and YOU know HIS name......

Great solution, right?

Well, most of the time.  But one time when I did that, the conversation went like this:

Me: "Hi... Ed Myers.......
 
Response:   "That's not my name....you've confused me with someone else..."

I never did learn his name. And he never learned mine.

Like I said, almost everything has a downside.

-Ed

On the Road One Day in 1955

Little did I realize that my very first day at the University of North Carolina would be the most memorable of the entire four years I spent there. The friend who rode up with me to Chapel Hill that morning in April of 1955 insisted that I meet, and have coffee with him and a buddy he had arranged to meet at a place called Danziegers Old World Restaurant.

His friend turned out not to be a typical college student and the coffee was different from any I had ever seen; there was a blob of whipped cream floating on top. I later learned it was called
Viennese Coffee.

The friend was Charles Kuralt.

I knew who he was, of course, because of his summer job as a fill in announcer on WBT. (What an accomplishment that was for a teenager. Many older and more experienced men would have given almost anything to have been hired by that powerhouse of a radio station, including David Brinkley (who was working for the Associated Press in Charlotte at that time and was turned down by WBT "because he didn't have a radio voice.")

A picture of Kuralt at the Daily Tar Heel desk that I took in April of 1955

At the time we met, Kuralt was editor of THE DAILY TAR HEEL the student newspaper at Carolina,
and said "yes" when I asked if he would consider me for a reporter's job on the paper.  It was a non-paying job (only the Editor was a paid position) and as I found out later he had a heck of a time getting people to work as reporters.  During the time I worked there, I don't believe we ever had more than 3 or 4 staff members.

 The only job I know of that  Kuralt wanted, and didn't get, was President of the 1951
Student Council at Central High School.  Slug Claiborne won that election.

Looking through my sister Kathryn's 1951 Snips and Cuts it appears to me that as talented as Kuralt was, he apparently wasn't involved in very many high school activities that year.  He wasn't on the Rambler staff or the yearbook staff nor did he make the honor society.

Sory Guthery 1951

Perhaps the reason can be found in a mention he got in the "Class Prophecy" written that year by Jim Nance:

Charlie's one high school job that I found for his senior year was "Class Historian"

 The next time he ran for election for something was his junior year at the University of North Carolina. In his autobiography, A LIFE ON THE ROAD he writes,

 "I had been studying history and working at The Daily Tarheel, the student newspaper. I printed up some posters and ran for editor on a pro integration platform (the state's schools were still segregated then, including the University.) On election day, I beat the sports editor for the job by a handful of votes.

The first thing I did was call my old high school girlfriend, Sory Guthery on the telephone. She was in school at Greensboro, down the road.

"I won?" I said.
"Great," she said.
"The job pays thirty dollars a week," I said.
"So?"
"So that's enough to live on.  Let's get married!"

We were married in Charlotte in August in a big church wedding. She was twenty, and I was almost twenty myself.

We moved into a cabin, a former tenant House, beside a cornfield a few miles out of Chapel Hill on the road to Raleigh.  Our senior year I remember as pure joy. I wrote my editorials in the afternoons and at night Sory stood over the composing stone with me to watch the editorial page take shape, always with two or three sleepy members of the newspaper staff.."

I'm proud to say that on many occasions I was one of those sleepy staff members.

"The newspaper took up so much of my time, I started dropping courses. By the time the Spring quarter arrived, I had dropped them all. I was editor of the student newspaper... but nobody in the administration building seemed to notice...I was no longer a student.  Graduation proceeded without me. I didn't care. I had found my career."

I took over the lease of that rustic cabin after the Kuralts left and returned to Charlotte.  He continued his journalism with the Charlotte News, at $50 a week. She went to work for a bank for $51 a week.

 Alfred Lord Tennyson said, "I am a part of all that I have met." 

I'm not sure exactly what Tennyson meant by that, but unfortunately none of  Kuralt's massive talent magically rubbed off on me; but I sure as Hell enjoyed knowing ...perhaps the greatest storyteller Television ever had... and feel richer because of it.

And shamelessly brag about it every chance I get.

Pardon me while I have a cup of coffee...with whipped cream on top.

-Ed

Rip Van Ed

As I mentioned last week, Verizon updated my old telephone service and Internet service and "threw in" Cable TV for free.

Well, I figured that Cable had finally come down to "my price," so I said, what the heck...go ahead and put it in.

The joke was on Verizon. They just assumed that at some point over the past 30 or 40 years that the basic cable lines had been installed in my house and all their installer would have to do was "turn" their box on. Nope, they had to bore holes in the walls and actually start from scratch.

So far, we've watched it twice. I watched 6 minutes of the Super Bowl but had to turn it off after a
couple of fast paced commercials  and local station promos, all at 500% Visual Overload...at BAM, BAM, BAM speed...made me so dizzy I had to lie down.

Linda watched one of those British shows on PBS for about an hour, well, actually, the TV was ON that channel for an hour, but I noticed that she had fallen asleep at some point, so I really don't know how long she actually watched.

But, I'm not giving up. I'm confident that as I scroll through those one thousand (Heck, maybe it's 2,000 channels) I'm eventually going to find some shows that I like.

But in my heart, I know that TV can be addictive and that is NOT what low information Americans who are in charge of electing our "leaders" need.

And I haven't even mentioned the 68% of Americans who are addicted to Video Games.

• The average game player is 35 years old and has been playing games for 12 years.

• The average age of the most frequent game purchaser is 39 years old.

• Forty percent of all game players are women. In fact, women over the age of 18 represent a significantly greater portion of the game-playing population (34 percent) than boys age 17 or younger (18 percent).

• In 2009, 25 percent of Americans over the age of 50 play video games, an increase from nine percent in 1999

God Bless America.

Soon.

-Ed

Jeanne Robinson

Jeanne Robertson

"Hats off" to Bob Ellis, who sent me an internet link to a very funny performance by Southern story storyteller Jeanne Robertson.

You probably know who she is but for someone like me who has lived a Televisionless existence for many years, she's brand new to me. I understand that she was "Miss North Carolina" in the 60's and has been a nationally famous performer for quite some time.

  Ellouise tells me that she was once in Reverend Don Nance's congregation. At any rate, if you haven't seen this video clip, you'll get as big kick and probably become a big fan, like me, of Jeane Robertson. ("Left Brain" is her husband.)

Don't go Rafting without a Baptist in the boat

As The World Turns

(Parental Discretion Advised. -Ed)

Planet Earth

You don't have to have a college degree to know that man's fascination with women's bodies is Nature's way of insuring  the continuation of the human race on Planet Earth.

 It's what makes the “world go 'round.”

There are always younger men coming along who also have what we old geezers were born with. It's known as the “Wow, look at that!” gene, which is a good thing since older men eventually outgrow that instinct.

Usually by around the age of 95 or so.

What made me think of that is all the construction going on around the Capitol this spring. I'm not sure what all they're building, but this town is getting pretty crowded, so logic tells me that for everything they build, they have to tear something down.

1960 Magazine Ad

An example of this is the fact that there's no longer anything to even suggest that there ever was once a very popular hot spot for Washington's “upper crust” called the Gaslight Club. The club closed many years ago, and the building itself is long gone. But at one time, during prohibition,it was this town's most popular speakeasy. Later, during the early 50's, it was  transformed into a Playboy type Club, but with class!
The White House Correspondents Association held their dinner with the President there in 1963.


 That was also the night I was looking forward to an adventure that I fully intended to brag about for the rest of my life! And it was to begin at the Gaslight Club!

But first, let me set the scene:

Paul Niven, Pat Peyser (CBS radio producer) and Ed Myers

I've mentioned my friend, Paul Niven of CBS news before. He and I were among a small group of single men at the TV station back then and since both of our radio shifts ended around 11 in the evenings we palled around a lot enjoying what was left of the evening's social scene, which was pretty much limited to the late night watering holes in DC and in nearby Baltimore, where Paul's special friend, Blaze Starr performed nightly.

Niven at Kennedy-Nixon Debate

Niven, was the host of “Face the Nation” during that time and I was the announcer. He was one of the“Murrow Boys,”at CBS ; which meant that he was personally hired by the undisputed king of radio and TV news, Edward R. himself.  (There were two groups of "Murrow Boys;" those he hired during WW2 and the second group he hired after he became Director of News at CBS following the war.)

Paul had told me about the time in 1956, I believe it was, after NBC had beaten CBS in the ratings at the Democratic National Convention. This was the very first time it had ever happened, and many believe it was the moment the “Tiffany “network began to lose it's once dominant hold on America's broadcast news and entertainment

Murrow and Monroe
on set of "Person To Person"

Paul said he was with Murrow and a group of other corespondents the day they learned of those ratings.and had adjourned to a “Go Go” bar, as they were called back then, to drown their sorrows. The booze flowed freely and he recalled that Murrow was as “well oiled” as everyone else sitting at his table, but he was nevertheless still eloquent.

“This is a sad sight indeed." (I'm paraphrasing now, but this is close) "Here we are,” he intoned, “the once invincible, after having our heads handed to us by an upstart network (NBC)... with strippers dancing on our grave..”

Murrow in London

Frankly I was a little surprised that my childhood broadcast idol, whose voice from WW2 still rings in my ears...”THIS....IS LONDON!”...would ever spend time in a strip joint.,but according to Niven, Murrow and “his boys” often spent time after work at such places near the CBS offices in New York.

But obviously I was still carrying around my “little boy” image of the great man, long before I learned of nature's “Wow, look at that” gene, implanted in all men.

Paul knew how much I wanted to meet the  greatest of all my  broadcast heroes and mentioned that Murrow had once told him that he would like to meet Blaze.

(The stars were beginning to align...Dear Reader........continue on....)

Paul said he would be seeing Murrow at the Corespondent's dinner the following week and would invite him to go to Baltimore with us after the festivities.

CHS Radio Club 1954

I refused to allow myself to get too excited over something that would have been unimaginable to that young boy sitting in Mr. Ballance's radio class only a few years earlier. But, so far, my life in Washington had been one surprise after another!

Nevertheless, just before his first radio newscast the evening before the dinner, Paul mentioned to me  “By the way, Ed called and said he'd go with us tomorrow night.”

Now, it was time to get excited.

Murrow

According to the plan, the two of them would be waiting on the corner in front of the Gaslight Club on 16th Street (right across the street from the Russian Embassy at exactly 11:30 pm.

As I drove down 16th street I remember thinking how unbelievable this night is going to be!   I'll never be able to convince my old Central High School buddies that this really happened. In fact, I could hardly believe it myself.

Imagine, Edward R. Murrow, Paul Niven and me traveling up to nearby Baltimore in my 1950 Dodge (I was still without my stolen TR3) to attend a Blaze Starr hootchi-cootchi show!

You can't make this kind of stuff up.

However, I wish I could have made up a different ending to this story.

 When I got about a half a block from the gaslight club, I spotted Paul, standing on the corner...alone.

Ed Murrow as head of USIA

Murrow' s wife, Janet, had gotten wind of our plan and convinced her husband that Washington was different from New York, and as a high ranking member of the government (he was the Director of the USIA  at that time) being spotted at Blaze Starr's Two O"Clock Club could prove to be embarrassing.

"But," she added, " Do what you want."  

Which, when translated means,  "You'll pay for this later."

That was a perfect example of  the "Wow" gene colliding head on with the female "Wifespeak gene," which trumps the weaker of the species (the male) every time.

So, with my once in a lifetime, story for the ages, lying in tatters. Paul and I continued on to Baltimore to do our part to "save the planet!


You know, help "keep it turning,"    -Lee


"Computers can now keep a man's every transgression recorded in a permanent memory bank, duplicating with complex programming and intricate wiring a feat his wife handles quite well without fuss or fanfare."     - Edward R. Murrow)

WIFE SPEAK                                            TRANSLATION
You want.                                                      You want.
We need.                                                       I want
Do what you want                                         You'll pay for this later.

We need to talk.                                             I need to complain.
Sure...go ahead.                                              I don't want you to.
I'm not upset.                                                  Of course I'm upset, you moron.
You're...so manly.                                            You need a shave and you sweat a lot
I heard a noise.                                                I noticed you were almost asleep.
Do you love me?                                             I'm going to ask for something expensive.
I'll be ready in a minute.                                    Kick off your shoes and watch T.V.
You have to learn to communicate.                   Just agree with me.
Are you listening to me!?                                   [Too late, you're dead.]
No.                                                                  No.
Maybe.                                                            No.

.-Anon

Twilight Time Again

("Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one."  -Albert Einstein)


Before you read any further, take another look at the picture on the left.

There's a fine line between reality and illusion, and coincidence and fate
.
Sometimes it's hard to determine which is which.

Consider, for example, those moments when we arrive at some new location and suddenly feel that we've been there before or those emotions that flash before us that are exact replicas of those felt 40 or 50 years ago.

Just last week, our power here in the house went out for about 5 minutes. When it came back on I had to re-set all the electrically powered clocks. Strangely, though, I had to roll them all back 10 minutes, to match the correct time! Had the power failure occurred 5 or10 minutes into the future?

All in a Name


In broadcasting, the era of the ANNOUNCER was coming to an end in the late 60's.  When I joined WTOP in Washington, we had a staff of 10 announcers. Now, even the largest stations have no more than one or two, who record the station breaks etc, instead of doing them live as in the old days.

There were 5 of us one evening sitting in the “announcer's lounge” talking about “names.” The station had given us all  “air names” that they felt would be easier for the listeners and viewers to relate to and remember..

Casper App was given the name “Jamie Bragg.” Donald Resnick was “Don Richards," John Wilkinson was 'John Douglas,"  Sam Donaldson was allowed to keep his real name as was Roger Mudd.


I asked Roger one time how he was able to keep his real name, when they changed my perfectly good name Ed Myers.

He said that shortly after he started work at the station a breaking news story required that he go on the air immediately before management had come up with a new name for him.and since he had already appeared under his real name it was decided that it was too late to change it.

In my case, of course, the fact that when I was hired there was already an “Ed Myer” on a competing station in town so changing my air name actually made sense.

Anyway Jamie Bragg happened to mention that the announcer with the most unusual name he had ever worked with was a fellow named “Grey Olive.” who was the chief announcer at the station in southern Virginia where Jamie had begun his radio career 15 years earlier. Jamie swore that Grey Olive was his real name and had no idea if he had ever changed it, or even if he was still in the business, since he hadn't seen him again in all those years.

Not two minutes later the phone in the lounge rang and it was for Jamie. He picked up the phone and literally turned a bright shade of white.

The caller was Grey Olive.

-Ed

(Rarely do events like this have so many witnesses....who still talk about it after all these years.  -Ed)

Say It Ain't So Joe

div style="text-align: left;">

And Now for My Next Number

Frank Sinatra

My taste in popular music atrophied after the late 50's and early 60's. Frank Sinatra is no longer played on the radio; except perhaps on some oldies station in New York or L.A. But if you ever get up to the Falls Church, Virginia area and are in need of a Sinatra fix, you're welcome to drop by my grand kids house and listen to their CD boom box. However, it's not Sinatra ALL the time. They'll mix in some Rose Mary Clooney, Mel Torme, Tony Bennet, and Steve Lawrence and Edie Gome tunes spiced with a little Count Basie, Dave Brubeck and things like that.


I'm proud to say that I'm responsible for their taste in popular music. Being brainwashed by your Grand daddy, who has a pretty good ear for  music, is a lot better than the kids growing up thinking that mindless, tuneless, dissonant banging and screaming is good music.

Steve Lawrence and Edie Gorme

At Easter dinner a few weeks ago, one of the boys asked me if I had ever met Frank Sinatra. “No, I never met him, but I saw him live in a concert one time.”

“How about Steve Lawrence. Did you ever meet him.”

“No, I'm afraid not. However," I added, "I once replaced him on a national radio music show.”

The rolling of the eyes began. As you know I love telling stories, true stories, but my grand kids don't believe them and they won't listen long enough to hear, as Paul Harvey used to say, “the rest of the story.”

This time neither boy even finished dessert before both announced in unison, “We love you Grandaddy, but we're outta here.”

Here's the rest of the story:

Around 1963 or 64 the US Air Force Band, based at Bolling Air Force Base in Washington decided to expand their very successful “Serenade in Blue” show which was played on over 2200 radio stations in the county at least once a week (The shows were on records that were handed out to the stations by the local Air Force recruiters.)  The radio stations got “brownie” points from the FCC for playing these “public service” programs. All the services had a show like this...with names like “Here's to Veterans” "Your Navy Show," etc.

The Air Force decided to expand their audience even more by producing a new show for FM stations, which were just coming into their own, with a show called “Serenade in Stereo.” They chose Steve Lawrence as the host of the show.. However, because of some sort of contract difficulty, he wasn't allowed to sing on the show, just announce.

After the first album was cut (13 shows) someone high up (no pun intended) in the Air Force said, “Wait a minute. It sounds very strange to have Steve Lawrence hosting the show....and NOT sing. Plus, he never was in the Air Force. He was in the Army!


So the search for his replacement was on, and I was fortunate enough to be chosen. The big brass liked the job that I did, so decided instead of two shows, one in stereo and one in mono (for AM stations), they would produce only one show that could either be aired in stereo or mono and go back to their well established title, SERENADE IN BLUE with me as host.



I did that show for 7 years. Being heard in almost every city and small town in America was an announcer's fondest dream. It was certainly the highlight of my radio career. Not only that, but for years people who had served overseas would tell me about hearing me in Germany, Bangkok, or Vietnam, anywhere Armed Forces Radio was heard.

Lee Shephard 1964

Each show featured at least one outstanding singer of the time such as Jon Hendricks, Carmen McRae, June Christy,  Matt Monroe, Joe Williams, Sarah Vaughn, Lou Rawls, and you name it. And there has never been a better Jazz band than that edition of the Airman of Note. Remember, this was the Vietnam era.  The Air Force picked the cream of the crop of young American musicians just as their predecessor, the Glenn Miller Army Air Force Band did in WW2.

What an honor it was to be associated with such rich musical history.

Am I bragging?  Yes.

  -Ed