Ancient Mariner

Shame On You Justice Scalia

(It's just a coincidence that I choose FathersDay to express my ire at a recent comment by Justice Scalia that made by blood boil. He is quoted as saying that the U.S.Supreme Court decision that grants Guantanamo detainees access to habeas corpus "will almost certainly cause more Americans to be killed.")

Your expressed concern for American lives seems inconsistent, to say the least , with your judicial support for an administration whose policies  have  caused the death and severe injury of thousands upon thousands of American lives during The Unnecessary War.

In no way do I deny your right to dissent from an opinion with which you strongly disagree.  But kindly spare us your concern about American lives.

Ancient Mariner

Dear Bud Selig

Dear Bud Selig, Major League Baseball Commissioner:

As  a lifelong baseball fan and one who might have played in a World Series had not a coach told  him he lacked only eye and coordination to become a great player,  I have a few comments about the recently ended season, including the playoffs.

1. The Wild-Card idea is terrific; it adds much excitement and tension.

2. The Colorad o Rockies were a miracle team to obtain the National League wild-card role. For example, if closer Hoffman of San Diego had not inexplicably blown two saves, they wouldn't have made it. The Rockies became N.L. Champs and it was no disgrace to lose the World Seeries to a superior Red Sox team.

3. The World Series games start too late for fans in the eastern half of the USA, and the games take too long to play.  Kids, upon whom the future of baseball depends, cannot be stimulated by long, slow games. Play more of the games in daylight. Devise some time-limits that will permit any 9-inning game to be completed in far less than three hours. Consult Buehrle of the White Sox in this matter.

4.  While tradition dictates playing the National Anthem before each game, I suggest a move toward variety during the 7th-inning stretch. How about the wonderful America the Beautiful for a change?

5.  While baseball continues to be a great game, there is a suspicion that greed has taken over in the major leagues. There should be more revenue-sharing. Incentives should be considered to make it more attractive for players to spend their major-league careers with one team.

6. Hooray for the Fort Myers Miracle!!

Yours truly,

Harry Gottlieb

hypocrisy

I was stunned this morning while watching the debate among the Republican candidates for president. I'll admit I only saw most of it,  not all. The participants crawled all over each other in their claims to be more PRO LIFE than the others. Of course they were dealing with the abortion issue.

But most of the candidates, in dealing with the Iraq war, seemed to be supporting a PRO DEATH policy. There is much "support the troops" and "war on terror"  rhetoric, but this fails to recognize that our troops have died for an unnecessary,  poorly conceived and miserably executed strategy that has promoterd rather than diminished the future of terrorism. The deaths and severe wounds continue as they speak.

And what about the deaths of innocent Iraq citizens that continue? Is it true that our "war on terror" has killed more civilians than were  so tragically slaughtered here on 9/11? I would like to see the figures.

Choose life. Plan NOW to bring our troops home soon.

Ancient Mariner

RESERVE DEATH FOR GOMERS

A year ago, to commerorate my late brother Alan's April 28th birthday, I wrote a post blasting our war in Iraq and mourning the tragic death of so many young people, sent to war by their elders when alternative actions were possible. I am still outraged by this war.

Today we heard from a friend about a young Illinois woman who died in childbirth. I don't know any of the details, but it reinforced my opinion that death should be reserved for us gomers.

We think little about death when we are young, but maturity brings the realization that it is the ultimate price we all must pay for the miracle of life. And such a miracle it is! The odds against any one of us being born are certainly far beyond the odds against winning the big one in a lottery.

For those like me, fortunate enough  to be deep into my ninth decade, death is the inevitable end of a full life, and it is not far away. In death I will be joining many who have been dear to me, including my brother, even though communication may be difficult. And I will be with unknown ancestors without whom my life would not have occured. It will be natural that I move on and make room for others. My death will be no tragedy. Save the tears for those who die young.

Do I oppose living in a world where death prevails? Yes and no. I strongly oppose death for young people, but, it is part of the deal for us gomers and it is worth it.

Virginia Tech was a horrible disaster. The war in Iraq is far worse because it was preventable given wiser leaders.

My life is full of love. It has included a war, but much more peace and fulfillment. Plenty of tears, but much more laughter. Wonderful  friends, many now gone. The dearest wife since 1942, with whom I am still in love, and unmatched offspring.

Reserve death for us gomers. Our afterlife will be in the memory of the dear ones we leave behind.

Amba's Freeze Tag

So why not accept Amba's tag?

1. The books I (we) give away most are good ones written by members of our own family: Annie, David, Jacques, and Jean. But my real favorite is James Thurber's THE LAST FLOWER. 

2.The piece of music that changed my  attitude toward music was the Brahms Violin Concrto, with Heifetz playing the fiddle. My college roommate David Simonds got me back to the classics after I was turned off by compulsory listening as a kid.

3. There is no film I'd care to watchagain and again. But GRAND ILLUSION, CASABLANA, and IT HAPPENED ONE NIGHT rate high with me.

4. My favorite performer is LouElla, Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald. Together they knock me for a loop. My family must have wearied from my constant play of their recordings.

5. Being at least partially color-blind, my selection could be suspect. But I like to live with watercolors done by my late Chicago friend Rainey Bennett.

6. The one work of fiction I come back to is WAR AND PEACE by Tolstoy. I first read it as a teenager, read it again in adulthood, and now its been long enough ago that I could read it again as fresh material.

7. Punchlines are great fun. I share in Amba's "Where's my oookie?" and would add "Because I'm losing my eyesight" and "What does it say on the card?"

ANCIENT MARINER

gomerhood

On this final day of 2006 I am rather amazed to be here and look forward to yet another big number, 2007. Ever since the turn of the century I've felt like an interloper or a camel sticking his nose in a big tent.

I am honored to be participating in this early slice of the 21st century, and am much enjoying it even though the world in general and the USA in particular are not doing all that well.

On the 143rd day of the new year Jean and I will have been married for 65 years. She was 18, I was 24. Our one huge setback came early, with the death of my brother Alan during World War II, less than a year after he was best man at our wedding.

The rest of it has been terrific. We have six wonderful kids, twelve grandchildren, and a couple of great-grandchildren named Andromeda and Orion.

Next week I will have my 89th birthday, which I will celebrate with Jean, Annie, Martha, and her and our friend Rich Mervis. I have a new incentive to make it to 90: my barber, Bonnie, promised a free haircut for the occasion.

There are other reasons for wanting to go on.

I want to see who replaces George W. Bush. My current favorite is John Edwards, with Barack Obama coming up fast on the outside.

I look forward to watching the Ft. Myers Miracle in April (will there be another Torii Hunter or David Ortiz?). My fantasy teams (Estero Bay No Sox & Co.) will participate once more. Another White Sox World Series win would be too much because I haven't sobered up since 2005.

Regarding 65th wedding anniversaries, I remember attending that of Jean's paternal grandparents. He remains my family hero for rejecting his parents' original arranged marriage and getting another shot. You didn't do that in those days. Without his move, Jean or the rest of the descendants wouldn't exist.

Without claiming the wisdom of gomerhood, I have opposed the Iraq war since it began. History  may wonder why the President was not impeached.

I now realize that I have been suffering for years from that recently discovered infectious disease anal glaucoma (I can't see my ass going to work today). It is seldom fatal.

My only serious current complaint is lack of conteporary male friends here in Florida. I salute those who have achieved 90 elsewhere: Bernie Meltzer, Marshall Holleb,Jack Whiting,and Tom Watts. Then there is the incomparable Alex Elson, now into his second century, who was still taking cello lessons at age 99.

May 2007 treat kindly all readers of this blog.

Ancient Mariner

Beginnings

I think that we Jews have done right in making the year begin in the month of September. Look at the number of beginnings affecting our own family.

September will represent the first full month that Annie(Ambivablog) and Jacques will occupy their new home in Chapel Hill,  North Carolina. At this moment they should be en route from NYC and their 5th floor walk-up to Richmond, VA to spend the night at the home of Annie's sister Sara Monroe.  May their new home in NC be a blessing, starting tomorrow.

One year ago on 9/1  beloved Jean got her new left knee, which has brought her a much more mobile life.

Shortly granddaughter Rachel Monroe will be on her way to Morocco on a Fulbright scholarship. Her kid brother Alex begins his freshman year at Weleyan College. (His dad and our son David went to Amherst, and I to Williams to round out the Little 3).

Grandson Matt Shirrell will begin his new job at Cardenas School in Chicago. For the last couple of years he taught 2nd grade there, but now he becomes math and science teacher for the entire school (K-3). He is a family hero.

Back in 1985 I emerged from quadruple by-pass surgery in late August after 22 days in Michael Reese Hospital (there had been complications). I do not forget those first few outdoor tottering steps in the September sunshine accompanied by my old friend David Simonds.

Of course kids of all ages are going back to school.

Somewhat prematurely I wish you all a healthy, stimulating, productive, happy new year.

Ancient Mariner

Recent Obituaries

Since I am 88 years old and counting, I do pay some attention to obituary columns in newspapers, marveling at the few who made to 100, feeling sad for those who are very young and furious about deaths in Iraq.

Two recent obits got a lot of notice. One was Kenneth Lay of Enron notoriety, a deservedly convicted criminal. Did he beat the rap? No way. Had his death occured prior to the jury's action, this question would be harder to answer.

The other one was Randy Walker, football coach at Northwestern University. Since I am a baseball nut and not much of a  football fan, I had known virtually nothing about him when he and his wife Tammy sat next to me in the bsack row of a jet flying from Ft. Myers, Florida to Chicago just a few years ago.

Despite the frequent humiliations foisted on my dad's beloved University of Chicago Maroons by earlier Northwestern monsters, I became a Randy Walker fan after that trip. He shared some of his experiences with me and listened patiently to my one football debacle a a freshman at Williams College, when I nullified a big gain by failing to report my prsence to the referee (you don't have to do that anymore, he said). I was lucky to get to meet those good people.

That experience reminded me of a trip from Chicago to Ft. Myers maybe a dozen years ago on Midway Airlines. We were assigned front row seats next to a woman who turned out to be Mrs. Mike Ditka,  whose husband was formerly a player and coach of the Chicao Bears. Midway used Mike in some of their adds, and he sat in the row behind us. "Don't you think it woulld be nice to let the Ditka's sit together?" asked a flight attendant. Yes, but we also thought it would be nice to have the Gottliebs sit together, we replied and held our ground. The Ditkas never complained and Mike helped get our luggage off the rack after landing. They seemed like good people, but I never become a Chicago Bears fan.

While I do not regard reading obituaries as a favorire pastime, they sometimes do jog a memory.

Farewell Fort Monmouth

Major Richard Green, who heads an organization called Signal Corps OCS Association, has sent out a newsletter advising that Fort Monmouth (NJ) "...has been turned over to commercial land developers and will soon cease to exist as anything resembling a militray base!"

This is probably the least earth-shaking news of the month to most of you, but to a graduate of this Officer Candidate School in September, 1942, it brings back some special memories.

Major Green reports that the average attrition rate at this OCS was 50%. I made it OK, but barely.

I was probably selected to attend OCS beause I had proved my technical ineptitude as a radio repairman, so the U.S. Army decided to to try to make me into an officer. It was apparently irrelevant that I was color-blind (rejected for that reason by the Navy and Air Force) and therefore didn't really belong in the Signal Corps at all.

I came close to getting kicked out of this OCS a few weeks before the end of the 3-months of training. Jean and I had been married in May, and our first home together was in Long Branch, New Jersey, within bicycle range of Fort Monmouth. One full-moon night I had visited my bride, and returned to the base a couple of hours after the midnight curfew. Suddenly I was surrounded by officers, told to stand at attention while they identified me.

I didn't get kicked out because I was both dumb and lucky. The "smart" ones who intended to violate the curfew paid enlisted men to occupy their beds. My violation was totally unplanned. the surprise bed-check that night examined all dog tags and the "smart" ones were exposed and reportedly kicked out of the OCS program. I was merely confined to the post for the remaining few weeks, and even that was waived a couple of times by a kind officer who granted me "laundry privileges" so I could visit Jean.

For the record, I eventually became Adjutant of the 583rd Signal Aircraft Warning Battalion, with service in New Guinea and on Leyte Island in the Phillipines.

Jean and I agree that if the closing of Fort Monmouth is a step toward preventing future wars, well and good. But we are not optimistic.

Thanks for the news, Major Green.

April 28th

This date always has special meanings for me. My brother Alan Gottlieb was born on April 28, 1920. He died before his 23rd birthday, during World War II.  Our granddaughter Molly Ferguson was born on April 28, 1986. Happy birthday Molly! You are something very special. You represent youth with its huge potential for a happy and meaningful life. You were born shortly after my life-saving heart surgery, and here I am still enjoying the joyous knowledge that you exist.

This has also become a day when  I seethe against the practice of old folks sending young people to be killed or maimed in a most unnecessary war. Yes, I mean Iraq. I strongly agree with Joe Murtha and even John Kerry. Get our troops out of Iraq before this year ends.

Yes, we must do our utmost to end terrorism. But our Iraq venture has been a diversion from that purpose, even a breeding ground for recruitment to the cause of world-wide terrorism.

Like the man in that New Yorker cartoon, I don't want to live to be 135 years old (another 47 years?).  But by the year 2053 I'm confident that historians will have agreed that the G. W. Bush administration has been the worst disaster ever foisted on the citizens of the United States of America  and of the rest of the world. I am an optimist by nature, so I do believe that historians will still be able to write in the year 2053.

My son Alan Gottlieb becomes 50 years old the day after tomorrow. He is a dear man, most worthy of carrying that name. Happy birthday Ally! Give it a riffle!

Ancient Mariner