Oh yes, gather yourself up, for the way-back machine, and zoom back 40 years ago, to the birth of my great little nephew, Eddie...Eddie Haggerty...He got his little intro to this world, back on July 2nd, 1969...and he never looked back...
I can remember Eddie, being quite a young, 6-month-old, toddler, at his Mom & Dad's(my dear sister, Kathy & Ed's) funky Marquette Park apartment...There, he defied the odds, by lifting himself up, off the ground and doing his little baby steps, by grabbing ahold to all of the furniture, to stabililize himself, as he did a complete circle around the entire room...His Father declared Eddie, a genius, and at that point we were expecting Eddie to grow up and be a Rhodes Scholar or an Astronaut.
Eddie, even way back then, had a bright, bright, happy smile and an equally bright and happy disposition. His thick & wavy blonde hair, big eyes and big, big, rosie cheeks...made him one of the healthiest looking babies around...
The following year, Eddie, was followed by his brother Mike, and then quicky Pat, jumped onto the Haggerty Wrestling team...and from there...the hijinx and madness...never ended...
I do wish I could just focus on Eddie, but the whole crazy crew of Eddie, Mike and Pat...were inseperable, and they just about ran all of us into the ground, with their boundless energy.
How boundless...???...Young Eddie, was up before the sun rised every day...Eddie was up before the moon disappeared...before the cows even yawned in the muddling dusk...even...
Boooom...!!!...
Eddie Haggerty, was up, bright-eyed, and bushied tailed, waking up his cohorts, Mike & Pat, demanding the day to get off to a wild, walloping start...Oh gosh, sometimes, we'd be all up at the Lake House, and sure enough, you'd hear this thunderous roar of tiny footsteps, bounding down the stairs, from the bedroom, into the kitchen, at 5:30am...where their Mom, Kathy, had to whiz up some Captain Crunch with Blueberries or Cocoa Puffs or Fruit Loops for her young hungry, urchins....in nothing flat...Kathy truly was a living saint, with this wild bunch keeping her buzzing, going completely bonkers, doing an endless mad scramble, trying to make things roll as smoothly as possible...
I'd finally roll out of bed at 10AM...and go downstairs, and I was met, with the powerhouse, Haggerty tag team, attacking me, ready to roughhouse, right out of the box, piling on top of me, or just throwing themselves at me, so I'd have to pick them up, off the ground, and throw them onto the blue, living room, couch, crashing, one at a time...on top of each other...
Me and the young Haggerty's had such a blast...because they were truly, non-stop, wild boys, just bursting with their trademark energy...with usually Eddie...plowing straight ahead, with a great big smile...
How crazy were these 3 boys...???...Eddie & Mike & Pat...
It was not unusual for me to show up at their house, over on 79th & Artesian, in Tommy More, and find the entire refrigerator, completely, torn apart...Mike, throwing pickles around like little mini green frisbees and Pat, using yellow mustard to paint some Picasso creations on the wall...
Where was Eddie...???...Eddie, was there, wandering around, chomping on a stick of butter, like it was a Snickers chocolate candy bar...Yes, butter...and yes, just not one stick of butter, but the whole damn carton of 4 butters, were clearly on Eddie's snack menu, that day...
MMMMmmm buttterrrrr.....!!!!!!....
This next story, is the truth, I cannot tell a lie...just like George Washington...We were up in Lake Geneva, middle of summer, the Haggerty boys about 8, 7 and 5 years old at that time...and they grabbed ahold of these croquet mallets, and began bashing away at our giant lilac tree in our backyard...
Now you are thinking...Croquet mallets...They are not a good choice to try to cut down a tree, because they are flat and dull, wooden hammers...but these 3 lumberjacks, were not buying that philosophy as they whacked away at that beautiful lilac tree, until they broke thru the bark, and then got excited and bashed away until they heard a SNAP....and there the lilac tree...took a tumble...timmmbbbbberrrrr....to the ground...
Gramma came running out...mortified, her beautiful tree that smelled so beautiful was a casualty of war...but I personally was glad, because that Lilac tree, always attracted bees with its pungent flowery smell...and its location was right next to the hitter's box for our special whiffle ball games in the backyard...You could always see all of us kids, swinging our bat, hoping to smack a bee in mid air.
(....batter up.....bbbbbzzzzzzz.....!!!....get away from me...you stupid, stupid bees....!!!...bbbbbzzzzz....!!!...Smmmaaccckk...!!!...)
Oh there's more...I can recall, Eddie, just getting a crazy notion to tear out all my tomato plants along side the Lake House...Ripppp...Ripppp....Ripppp...Ripppp...Ohhh, how I loved those tomato plants because I'd soak those suckers everyday with lots of water & Miracle Grow...
uuuhhhh ohhhh....One by one, the large bountiful plants came up, roots and all...but Eddie, didn't realize I was coming barreling down, in a psychotic rage towards him at warp speed, ready to unleash a beating, like no other.
There Eddie stood, smiling, quite amused, then his amusement turned to horror...
...HOLY CRAP...!!!...IT'S UNCLE JIM...!!!...
BOOM...Eddie takes off screaming & screaming & screaming for dear life and I'm like Dick Butkus, ready to pummel him into the ground...but honestly...You really couldn't hurt Eddie, cuz' he was rock solid muscle...Needless, to say, Eddie and all the Haggerty's were great, great fun. We had such hilarious riotous times, doing crazy things...
I gotta stop there with the crazy Haggerty stories...and save some...for Mike and Pat...
Eddie...today...believe it or not, is an outward, gregariously fun guy, a Precinct Captain for the Saint Cajetan's area on the South Side...He was just elected to be on the board for the highly prestigious South-Side Irish Parade wearing a super special, green blazer...when he was inducted last week...The huge Irish parade, of hundreds of thousands of people, itself, runs every March, down Western Avenue, only 4 blocks away from his house, where he lives with his wonderful wife, Megan and their 3 adorable rug-rats...Meara, Phelan & the mighty, might, Griffin...who reminds me exactly of Eddie so much...
Eddie is the biggest White Sox fan and me and him, can be found bidding on White Sox stuff on E-Bay all the time...He throws that huge Saint Paddy's Day party every year, for one and all, before the parade, where the cold & frothy Guinness & stinging Jameson Irish Whiskey are flowing at 6am, that day...
By the way...I have this cool 2005 photo of Eddie, shaking hands with Mayor Daley, while he's got his White Sox cap on...at some lakefront ceremony...only a few days before the Sox won the World Series...
And in that photo, it shows that both Eddie & Mayor Daley, are on cloud nine, brimming with delightful smiles, drinking in the wild excitement of World Series action, we all had never seen before...on the South-Side...
Anyway, Eddie is now an Electrician these days, in charge of the lighting for the city that runs along the Chicago lakefront and can be found, digging thru the mess of electrical wires inside Buckingham Fountain, quite often, making sure, it remains a jewel of the city...for all the visitors...to stop by...and take their picture, there...
Oh yeah...Don't be surprised, if you are listening on the radio...and hear...Eddie Haggerty, you were our 12th caller and have won tickets for a weekend getaway to a water park or tickets to a movie...Eddie just loves that kinda stuff. He just has a knack for winning silly stuff over the radio...Surely, me & Eddie, are truly crazy and think we gotta shot...every single time,,,
Eddie Haggerty, South-Sider, Family Man & Sox Fan...and also just one of my many, many kooky little nieces & nephews who grew up, alongside me...so long ago...Well, we won't say when...will we...???...
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
My Nephew--Charlie
It's time to kick back the way back machine, to get a fresh reminder, of who, started the kiddie revolution, in the O'Leary family...See, on June 10th, 1969, a savior, was born unto this world, and his name was Charlie Gries...
Well, let's not get carried away, Charlie wasn't the Christ child, but he did get the royal treatment for being the first grandchild born...See, Charlie, was born a South-Sider, out of Little Company of Mary Hospital. He got to spend his first year living with us on 86th Street, with his Mom, my sister, Maureen, while his Dad was off in Vietnam...
There, he was held a plenty...just as good a baby as any. Even his Mom, would leave Charlie, on the basement floor, on a blanket, as an infant, and zoom up to John's Grocery & Liquors, up on 87th Street...
I, only 6, was left to babysit, little Charlie, and I can remember, intensively studying, his every move, scared to death, something bad, would happen, while his Mom, was away, probably picking up baby food or diapers...
I was practically holding my breath, expecting him, to start choking, or take a dump or start crying...my ability to cope with a baby in the house, was put to the test, quite often, back then...
Young Charlie, probably never realized how much, he got the royal treatment from his Gramma & Grampa, who were beaming to be grand-parents...And my Dad, was certainly glad it was a boy, I bet, establishing a new pattern, for the Grand-kids, of not being all girls, right out of the box, like his 5 initial daughters being born...
There we all lived, a quaint existence, with one of those special Stars, in our front picture window, to signify, that someone, his Dad, older Charlie, was off, fighting in the Vietnam War.
Inevitably, older Charlie, did come back, a year later, and the young family, moved out to Blue Island, near a huge, railroad yard...It was a very spacious, big apartment, but you could hear the train whistles, blowing, quite loud, off in the distance...
As little Charlie grew, he developed his own little personality. Always, a little destructive little tyke...who actually called his Mom, Mooo-weeen, instead of Mommy...He got into heaps and heaps of silly little troubles, back then, and led his brothers and sister, down many an adventure, as he grew and grew and grew...
I can vividly remember Charlie, being about 6, himself, living in Arlington Heights, just tearing that house apart...I was out on their screened in porch, one day, and I sifted thru all the toys, strewn about, and dug out, one of my favorite, old stuffed animals, Toto, the monkey.
My sister, must have brought with her, when she moved out of our house...Yikes, Toto, looked, like he got, run over by a garbage truck, and then some, all mangled and distorted...About 5 minutes later, I found another, one of my old favorites, an original version of Winne the Pooh, and its eyes were dangling out of its head, missing an arm and stuffing bursting at the seams...
I thought these little Gries kids, were savages...the loud & proud Thomas, the spunky little squirrell, Michelle, and the youngest, perky Patrick... Those crazy kids left those gentle stuffed toys, in such horrible condition...because they just had a more wild pattern, of ripping things apart, back then...I can remember, one time...things got a little crazy...
Young Charlie actually took his little brother, Thomas, and hid in the basement, while his parents, and all of us, desperately searched for them, because we had to get to the church, because his little brother, Patrick, was being baptized, that day...
We searched and searched and searched, no luck...The whole family, finally, threw up their hands, and raced off to the church, while I was left behind, alone, to search more, for the two little missing beasts...
Suddenly, the mischeivous two emerged, with big smiles, laughing and laughing, thinking they had pulled off a huge feat, getting us to be unable to find them, down in the basement, behind a big stack of old clothes...
Little did they know, their Mom and Dad, had quite a little awakening for them, when they got back, from the church Christening...Egad...I think big Charlie, had to be angrier than ever, and their mother, Maureen, mortified, but relieved, they hadn't been kidnapped, or something.
Time moved on, and little Charlie and I had some awesome memories, playing whiffle ball up in Lake Geneva, in the backyard...He vividly can recall those tussles, better than I can, believe it or not...
He remembers, me screaming out, Walt-no neck-Williams, was up to bat for the Sox and the pitcher was Vida Blue of the A's...Stuff like that, are hilarious...as we did romp about the funky little yard, for some endless, baseball games, in the Lake Geneva sunshine, so long ago.
Just a flood of old memories, of all the young Gries kids, running all about, up at the lake, their beat up old, grizzly old faded, cherry red Ford, station wagon, out back, with its back-side rusting off, almost completely. A far cry, from the Mercedes Benz, they drive today...
It's so, so funny, to laugh about those fun times, when Charlie was a bit of a handful, endlessly ruling his little brothers and sister around...And along with their cousins, grew and grew and grew, because time could not stop them, from growing up quick, and growing up strong...
Little Charlie, the first kiddie to kick things off...back in 1969...some 40 years ago...It still does seem like yesterday for me...but Charlie now, is quite grown, with a wonderful wife, Christine and two beautiful young girls, precociously shy & oh so sweet, Kaitlyn & Emma, living in, where else, Arlington Heights...
I can remember when Charlie started dating his wonderful wife, as they were, living in Ukrainian Village...on the West Side...Charlie, back then with the largest CD music selection, I ever seen, strewn about their apartment, in an old brick structure, on a quiet street surrounded by great ethnic places to eat...They were so happy, back then, and they didn't have much, if anything, but that really didn't matter to those two...
Charlie...Well, he's got the world by a string, nowadays, a consummate sports junkie, teaching the local kids, Physical Education (gym), up at the elementary school and venturing off for various soccer clubs, he coaches or plays for...as the day, turns into night...
You see, Charlie grew up to be, quite the soccer player, once scoring 55+ goals, one season, in high school...for Saint Viator's...and that passion for soccer is truly always gonna be a huge passion, of his, even when he does quite playing...He'll still be watching those European & World Cup soccer games, intensely, over the Fox Soccer cable T.V station...whenever he can...
I was just with Charlie, a week ago, when we went down, to a DePaul basketball game. It was a great time, to go see a game together, which we always do, at least once a year. And as we drive to and from the game, many an old memory will pop into our heads, and have us laughing of those old days, some 40 years ago...
I'm sure we'll have some more of those old stories, about all the Gries kids, as we slide along. Because each and every one of my nieces and nephews, every single one of them, hold a special place in my heart.
And I know, they feel the same way. We had such a ball, growing up together, just endless laughs from day to night. And it's a shame, we couldn't have captured, all of those times, on film, because those glorious times, were unbelievably fun...for each and every one of us...
Well, let's not get carried away, Charlie wasn't the Christ child, but he did get the royal treatment for being the first grandchild born...See, Charlie, was born a South-Sider, out of Little Company of Mary Hospital. He got to spend his first year living with us on 86th Street, with his Mom, my sister, Maureen, while his Dad was off in Vietnam...
There, he was held a plenty...just as good a baby as any. Even his Mom, would leave Charlie, on the basement floor, on a blanket, as an infant, and zoom up to John's Grocery & Liquors, up on 87th Street...
I, only 6, was left to babysit, little Charlie, and I can remember, intensively studying, his every move, scared to death, something bad, would happen, while his Mom, was away, probably picking up baby food or diapers...
I was practically holding my breath, expecting him, to start choking, or take a dump or start crying...my ability to cope with a baby in the house, was put to the test, quite often, back then...
Young Charlie, probably never realized how much, he got the royal treatment from his Gramma & Grampa, who were beaming to be grand-parents...And my Dad, was certainly glad it was a boy, I bet, establishing a new pattern, for the Grand-kids, of not being all girls, right out of the box, like his 5 initial daughters being born...
There we all lived, a quaint existence, with one of those special Stars, in our front picture window, to signify, that someone, his Dad, older Charlie, was off, fighting in the Vietnam War.
Inevitably, older Charlie, did come back, a year later, and the young family, moved out to Blue Island, near a huge, railroad yard...It was a very spacious, big apartment, but you could hear the train whistles, blowing, quite loud, off in the distance...
As little Charlie grew, he developed his own little personality. Always, a little destructive little tyke...who actually called his Mom, Mooo-weeen, instead of Mommy...He got into heaps and heaps of silly little troubles, back then, and led his brothers and sister, down many an adventure, as he grew and grew and grew...
I can vividly remember Charlie, being about 6, himself, living in Arlington Heights, just tearing that house apart...I was out on their screened in porch, one day, and I sifted thru all the toys, strewn about, and dug out, one of my favorite, old stuffed animals, Toto, the monkey.
My sister, must have brought with her, when she moved out of our house...Yikes, Toto, looked, like he got, run over by a garbage truck, and then some, all mangled and distorted...About 5 minutes later, I found another, one of my old favorites, an original version of Winne the Pooh, and its eyes were dangling out of its head, missing an arm and stuffing bursting at the seams...
I thought these little Gries kids, were savages...the loud & proud Thomas, the spunky little squirrell, Michelle, and the youngest, perky Patrick... Those crazy kids left those gentle stuffed toys, in such horrible condition...because they just had a more wild pattern, of ripping things apart, back then...I can remember, one time...things got a little crazy...
Young Charlie actually took his little brother, Thomas, and hid in the basement, while his parents, and all of us, desperately searched for them, because we had to get to the church, because his little brother, Patrick, was being baptized, that day...
We searched and searched and searched, no luck...The whole family, finally, threw up their hands, and raced off to the church, while I was left behind, alone, to search more, for the two little missing beasts...
Suddenly, the mischeivous two emerged, with big smiles, laughing and laughing, thinking they had pulled off a huge feat, getting us to be unable to find them, down in the basement, behind a big stack of old clothes...
Little did they know, their Mom and Dad, had quite a little awakening for them, when they got back, from the church Christening...Egad...I think big Charlie, had to be angrier than ever, and their mother, Maureen, mortified, but relieved, they hadn't been kidnapped, or something.
Time moved on, and little Charlie and I had some awesome memories, playing whiffle ball up in Lake Geneva, in the backyard...He vividly can recall those tussles, better than I can, believe it or not...
He remembers, me screaming out, Walt-no neck-Williams, was up to bat for the Sox and the pitcher was Vida Blue of the A's...Stuff like that, are hilarious...as we did romp about the funky little yard, for some endless, baseball games, in the Lake Geneva sunshine, so long ago.
Just a flood of old memories, of all the young Gries kids, running all about, up at the lake, their beat up old, grizzly old faded, cherry red Ford, station wagon, out back, with its back-side rusting off, almost completely. A far cry, from the Mercedes Benz, they drive today...
It's so, so funny, to laugh about those fun times, when Charlie was a bit of a handful, endlessly ruling his little brothers and sister around...And along with their cousins, grew and grew and grew, because time could not stop them, from growing up quick, and growing up strong...
Little Charlie, the first kiddie to kick things off...back in 1969...some 40 years ago...It still does seem like yesterday for me...but Charlie now, is quite grown, with a wonderful wife, Christine and two beautiful young girls, precociously shy & oh so sweet, Kaitlyn & Emma, living in, where else, Arlington Heights...
I can remember when Charlie started dating his wonderful wife, as they were, living in Ukrainian Village...on the West Side...Charlie, back then with the largest CD music selection, I ever seen, strewn about their apartment, in an old brick structure, on a quiet street surrounded by great ethnic places to eat...They were so happy, back then, and they didn't have much, if anything, but that really didn't matter to those two...
Charlie...Well, he's got the world by a string, nowadays, a consummate sports junkie, teaching the local kids, Physical Education (gym), up at the elementary school and venturing off for various soccer clubs, he coaches or plays for...as the day, turns into night...
You see, Charlie grew up to be, quite the soccer player, once scoring 55+ goals, one season, in high school...for Saint Viator's...and that passion for soccer is truly always gonna be a huge passion, of his, even when he does quite playing...He'll still be watching those European & World Cup soccer games, intensely, over the Fox Soccer cable T.V station...whenever he can...
I was just with Charlie, a week ago, when we went down, to a DePaul basketball game. It was a great time, to go see a game together, which we always do, at least once a year. And as we drive to and from the game, many an old memory will pop into our heads, and have us laughing of those old days, some 40 years ago...
I'm sure we'll have some more of those old stories, about all the Gries kids, as we slide along. Because each and every one of my nieces and nephews, every single one of them, hold a special place in my heart.
And I know, they feel the same way. We had such a ball, growing up together, just endless laughs from day to night. And it's a shame, we couldn't have captured, all of those times, on film, because those glorious times, were unbelievably fun...for each and every one of us...
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Early Slim
Once upon a time...there was a young boy named Patrick Farrell...Slim was his knickname...a rambunctious wirey tall young lad...from 84th Street...who enjoyed all his sports to the fullest...I'm sure he thought he was gonna be the next Roger Staubach, quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys...throwing that deep, Hail Mary bomb...to wide receiver, Drew Pierson...
And certainly don't rule out, Slim, dreaming with the idea of taking over for Ron Santo at 3rd Base, of the Cubs, someday, either, or even taking over for his idol, Tony Esposito in the nets for the Hawks...truly one of his greatest passions...And if you hung with Slim, inevitably, you were gonna be having lots of fun...that was just a given....
Slim, you see, was very much, his own man, from an early age...While most of us were true, blue White Sox fans...Slim was the absolute biggest Cubs fan...And yes, the Dallas Cowboys, were the team for Slim, completely...How could you not wanna root for them Cowboys...???...if you hung around with Slim......way back when we were 8 or 9 or 10 years old...
If you entered Slim's house back in the day...you were usually met by Slim's Mom, who was simply a joy to be around...She did treat all of Slim's friends like we were truly something special, when we all knew, we were, nothing but a bunch of budding little monsters...
And then, all of Slim's sisters, would pop up around each and every corner...Katie, Colleen, Mary, Maureen, Jenny & Betty...all at various ages...all happy, little go-getter, girls...so very Irish looking...all just like their Mother...who teased and tattled on Slim...endlessly...
I know Slim must have looked up to his Dad, rather woefully, on more than one occassion, and asked his dear Dad, why did you have to have so many girls...???...
How I did dread Slim's situation, because he above all others, had a deliciously mischeivious side to him...and in the early years...his little madcap hijinx...took quite a few hits...as it wasn't uncommon to hear one of Slim's sisters to call out...
Mom...Pat is doing this again...!!!...Mom...Pat is doing that, again...!!!...
It certainly drove him crazy...being the only boy, amidst all those girls...but he was undaunted...just plowing ahead...and doing completely funny & crazy stuff...and worrying about the damning consequences, later...
To take you back to early Slim, you'd see him...shuttle us past his sisters, in his neat bi-level deluxe home, as quickly as possible, down to his room...where he knew it was safe...to conduct his private hobbies & endeavors...
He'd shut his door...but not before one of his sister's would yell out...
Mom, Pat has friends in the house...!!!...And their shoes are all muddy...!!!...
Slim did slam that door behind him...and the only one who could enter was his dear dog...Blue...
Blue, was an odd mutt...if there ever was one...a black & silvery & even blue, Scottish Terrier, I'm guessing...and he'd just maul anyone...for attention...until you had to beg Slim, to get his crazy mutt...off of us...
There, within his room...Slim would reveal his brand new baseball cards and then later on, look around, very slowly, as if the C.I.A. may be watching, then pull out his Parley Cards...once he thought the room was absolutely safe...and the coast was clear.
What are Parley Cards...???
See, Slim ran a gambling operation amidst us 5th & 6th Graders...getting his Parley Cards from a neighbor kid...a local bookie...who I'm guessing...actually did have ties to the mob...I know it sounds silly but it really was quite fun...and when its all said and done, Slim got a nice piece of the pie...from his efforts...
See...Parley Cards, had a breakdown of the odds...for every NFL & many college football games that week...And all of Slim's buddies, including me, were hooked immediately...We took great pride on slapping down our $3-$5...for a chance at beating the odds...and circling our various choices, for each week...
Damn...we all thought we were Jimmy the Greek, back then...taking a stab...at winning...a nice big chunk of change..for us youngsters...We'd grab ahold of those tiny sheets of paper, embosesed with the teams and the odds...rabidly and quickly, buckling down...
We'd be measuring each possible bet, with a tremendous flair of reasoning...in which we felt...was gonna get us that jackpot...every time...and sure...I won a few...myself...
Slim took great pride, in keeping his little gambling venture secret...and in true Slim style, never got caught by anyone...That young Slim was a slickster, thru and thru...Like I said, we'd be down in his room...and you'd clearly see his Dallas Cowboys bed-spread and garbage can...Cubs & Bears & Blackhawk stuff...all about...and baseball mitts and bats and hockey stuff & trophies...in every corner...Truly, he was a mega-sports-junkie...(as most of us...his friends were...too...)...
I'll let you slide back, right now...slip back to one of those typical Slim adventures...as we rode our bikes, like hell on wheels, up to the funky, skunky little paradise lost...known as The B....near my house...which had this very high chain-link fence...to keep trespassers out...like us...
Suddenly, Slim, would jump off his bike and make a mad dash to the fence...He just remembered, that he had a new windbreaker coat on...and getting over that fence...may be a little tricky...No matter, Slim...ascended the fence...getting to the very top...Well, that seemed easy, enough, then...laughing at all of us...up at the top...
Rrrrrrippppppppp...!!!...
There was suddenly a giant rip in Slim's new coat...so suddenly...so completely, ruining the damn thing, cuz' it got stuck on some little barb wire thingie at the top...You could see that look in Slim's eyes, almost able to hear his sister's screams...
Mom, Pat's got a giant rip in his coat...!!!...
Or...
Mom, look at Slim's coat, he's gonna need a new one...!!!...
Slim slid back down, no longer in a jovial mood...just staring at this giant tear...just hanging down, rendering the coat, useless...ready for the bottom of his Cowboys trash can...in his room...
But oh no...the story, does not end there...For about a week later...we cruised aimlessly and shamelessly, back up to, where else, The B...again...And again, Slim, got to the top, with a reckless abandon...and damn...it happened once again...Call it Deja vu'...call it what you will...
Rrrrripppppppppp....!!!...
Egad...Slim...don't look down...I believe you did it again...You ruined another brand new windbreaker. Slim, at this point was a bit mortified...saying...
My Mom & Dad are really gonna kill me...this time...!!!...
Oh yes...Slim knew the doghouse...not only awaited Blue...sometimes...He too...was there, quite a bit, also, from time to time....himself...unfortunately...But just chalk this one up as one of Slim's more dubious moments...Surely, he was pretty darn smooth...and he took it all in stride...
But who can forget...Just that funny, funny look of horror, which came across Slim's face, hearing that..Rrrrippppppppppp...!!!!..
Oh yeah, that happened, in some way, to all us kids, back then...always crashing & bashing forward...so recklessly, never thinking, we could be stopped...until something beyond mystifyingly, crazy would happen...that would end our reign of terror...for that day...
Most definitely, I could go...on and on...cuz' Slim was the enigmatic, elite master of hi-jinx...who made it almost a nightly ritual to sneak out, crawling out of his window of his room...into his backyard...late at night...to wander all about...looking for trouble...
He'd always try to grab Eddie B or the Murphy Boys or Davey Scalise...out with him...into the danger zone...playing well past curfew...having as good a time...as any little crazy fool could have had back then, and surely enough...Slim never got caught...so, so much of the time...
The one and only, Patrick Slim Farrell...A bit of a rascal...a bit of a daredevil...and a bit of the crazy man...who would grow up along side me...and along side of all of my crazy buddies...for some mad-cap adventures...that are truly hilarious, truly unique...and sometimes truly unbelieveable...
And yes...for all of you...to enjoy...only a few pages away....into the Twilight Zone...So do stay tuned...
(On a side note....I spoke to Slim and he said Blue his dog was actaully an Irish Kerry Blue Terrier, not a Scottish Terrier...Murph's, a block away, had an Irish Kerry Blue Terrier too...one more, rather amusing side note...Jim O'leary had a penchant for selecting CLEMSON every week on my football Parley Card...and it covered its points...every single time...which baffled Slim to no end...Of course, I had no idea, that Clemson even existed...I just always liked to cling to something, bizarre and off the wall...that defied logic...to some extreme...I still follow those bizarre hunches, that make no sense to others...I just fly that way...When it works, you look like a genius...and if it doesn't...it's something to laugh about...A win-win to me...no doubt...)
And certainly don't rule out, Slim, dreaming with the idea of taking over for Ron Santo at 3rd Base, of the Cubs, someday, either, or even taking over for his idol, Tony Esposito in the nets for the Hawks...truly one of his greatest passions...And if you hung with Slim, inevitably, you were gonna be having lots of fun...that was just a given....
Slim, you see, was very much, his own man, from an early age...While most of us were true, blue White Sox fans...Slim was the absolute biggest Cubs fan...And yes, the Dallas Cowboys, were the team for Slim, completely...How could you not wanna root for them Cowboys...???...if you hung around with Slim......way back when we were 8 or 9 or 10 years old...
If you entered Slim's house back in the day...you were usually met by Slim's Mom, who was simply a joy to be around...She did treat all of Slim's friends like we were truly something special, when we all knew, we were, nothing but a bunch of budding little monsters...
And then, all of Slim's sisters, would pop up around each and every corner...Katie, Colleen, Mary, Maureen, Jenny & Betty...all at various ages...all happy, little go-getter, girls...so very Irish looking...all just like their Mother...who teased and tattled on Slim...endlessly...
I know Slim must have looked up to his Dad, rather woefully, on more than one occassion, and asked his dear Dad, why did you have to have so many girls...???...
How I did dread Slim's situation, because he above all others, had a deliciously mischeivious side to him...and in the early years...his little madcap hijinx...took quite a few hits...as it wasn't uncommon to hear one of Slim's sisters to call out...
Mom...Pat is doing this again...!!!...Mom...Pat is doing that, again...!!!...
It certainly drove him crazy...being the only boy, amidst all those girls...but he was undaunted...just plowing ahead...and doing completely funny & crazy stuff...and worrying about the damning consequences, later...
To take you back to early Slim, you'd see him...shuttle us past his sisters, in his neat bi-level deluxe home, as quickly as possible, down to his room...where he knew it was safe...to conduct his private hobbies & endeavors...
He'd shut his door...but not before one of his sister's would yell out...
Mom, Pat has friends in the house...!!!...And their shoes are all muddy...!!!...
Slim did slam that door behind him...and the only one who could enter was his dear dog...Blue...
Blue, was an odd mutt...if there ever was one...a black & silvery & even blue, Scottish Terrier, I'm guessing...and he'd just maul anyone...for attention...until you had to beg Slim, to get his crazy mutt...off of us...
There, within his room...Slim would reveal his brand new baseball cards and then later on, look around, very slowly, as if the C.I.A. may be watching, then pull out his Parley Cards...once he thought the room was absolutely safe...and the coast was clear.
What are Parley Cards...???
See, Slim ran a gambling operation amidst us 5th & 6th Graders...getting his Parley Cards from a neighbor kid...a local bookie...who I'm guessing...actually did have ties to the mob...I know it sounds silly but it really was quite fun...and when its all said and done, Slim got a nice piece of the pie...from his efforts...
See...Parley Cards, had a breakdown of the odds...for every NFL & many college football games that week...And all of Slim's buddies, including me, were hooked immediately...We took great pride on slapping down our $3-$5...for a chance at beating the odds...and circling our various choices, for each week...
Damn...we all thought we were Jimmy the Greek, back then...taking a stab...at winning...a nice big chunk of change..for us youngsters...We'd grab ahold of those tiny sheets of paper, embosesed with the teams and the odds...rabidly and quickly, buckling down...
We'd be measuring each possible bet, with a tremendous flair of reasoning...in which we felt...was gonna get us that jackpot...every time...and sure...I won a few...myself...
Slim took great pride, in keeping his little gambling venture secret...and in true Slim style, never got caught by anyone...That young Slim was a slickster, thru and thru...Like I said, we'd be down in his room...and you'd clearly see his Dallas Cowboys bed-spread and garbage can...Cubs & Bears & Blackhawk stuff...all about...and baseball mitts and bats and hockey stuff & trophies...in every corner...Truly, he was a mega-sports-junkie...(as most of us...his friends were...too...)...
I'll let you slide back, right now...slip back to one of those typical Slim adventures...as we rode our bikes, like hell on wheels, up to the funky, skunky little paradise lost...known as The B....near my house...which had this very high chain-link fence...to keep trespassers out...like us...
Suddenly, Slim, would jump off his bike and make a mad dash to the fence...He just remembered, that he had a new windbreaker coat on...and getting over that fence...may be a little tricky...No matter, Slim...ascended the fence...getting to the very top...Well, that seemed easy, enough, then...laughing at all of us...up at the top...
Rrrrrrippppppppp...!!!...
There was suddenly a giant rip in Slim's new coat...so suddenly...so completely, ruining the damn thing, cuz' it got stuck on some little barb wire thingie at the top...You could see that look in Slim's eyes, almost able to hear his sister's screams...
Mom, Pat's got a giant rip in his coat...!!!...
Or...
Mom, look at Slim's coat, he's gonna need a new one...!!!...
Slim slid back down, no longer in a jovial mood...just staring at this giant tear...just hanging down, rendering the coat, useless...ready for the bottom of his Cowboys trash can...in his room...
But oh no...the story, does not end there...For about a week later...we cruised aimlessly and shamelessly, back up to, where else, The B...again...And again, Slim, got to the top, with a reckless abandon...and damn...it happened once again...Call it Deja vu'...call it what you will...
Rrrrripppppppppp....!!!...
Egad...Slim...don't look down...I believe you did it again...You ruined another brand new windbreaker. Slim, at this point was a bit mortified...saying...
My Mom & Dad are really gonna kill me...this time...!!!...
Oh yes...Slim knew the doghouse...not only awaited Blue...sometimes...He too...was there, quite a bit, also, from time to time....himself...unfortunately...But just chalk this one up as one of Slim's more dubious moments...Surely, he was pretty darn smooth...and he took it all in stride...
But who can forget...Just that funny, funny look of horror, which came across Slim's face, hearing that..Rrrrippppppppppp...!!!!..
Oh yeah, that happened, in some way, to all us kids, back then...always crashing & bashing forward...so recklessly, never thinking, we could be stopped...until something beyond mystifyingly, crazy would happen...that would end our reign of terror...for that day...
Most definitely, I could go...on and on...cuz' Slim was the enigmatic, elite master of hi-jinx...who made it almost a nightly ritual to sneak out, crawling out of his window of his room...into his backyard...late at night...to wander all about...looking for trouble...
He'd always try to grab Eddie B or the Murphy Boys or Davey Scalise...out with him...into the danger zone...playing well past curfew...having as good a time...as any little crazy fool could have had back then, and surely enough...Slim never got caught...so, so much of the time...
The one and only, Patrick Slim Farrell...A bit of a rascal...a bit of a daredevil...and a bit of the crazy man...who would grow up along side me...and along side of all of my crazy buddies...for some mad-cap adventures...that are truly hilarious, truly unique...and sometimes truly unbelieveable...
And yes...for all of you...to enjoy...only a few pages away....into the Twilight Zone...So do stay tuned...
(On a side note....I spoke to Slim and he said Blue his dog was actaully an Irish Kerry Blue Terrier, not a Scottish Terrier...Murph's, a block away, had an Irish Kerry Blue Terrier too...one more, rather amusing side note...Jim O'leary had a penchant for selecting CLEMSON every week on my football Parley Card...and it covered its points...every single time...which baffled Slim to no end...Of course, I had no idea, that Clemson even existed...I just always liked to cling to something, bizarre and off the wall...that defied logic...to some extreme...I still follow those bizarre hunches, that make no sense to others...I just fly that way...When it works, you look like a genius...and if it doesn't...it's something to laugh about...A win-win to me...no doubt...)
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Playground Days
Who doesn't fondly recall...jumping all about...running and screaming outside...during recess...in our younger days...It's hard not to imagine...those times...not being some of the most care-free, joyous times we all look back upon with a chuckle or two...during our immensely fun Playground Days...
And my days, for those recess times, that spanned 20-30 minutes, at Saint Thomas More...out in the parking lot...a hard, blacktop surface, that seemed to stretch endlessly...never, ever appeared anything less than an oasis...from our drudgery of daily school life...
Sure, other schools may have had grass...or maybe swings or even monkey bars...but it really never phased us one single bit...because, once out there, the laughter and happiness of being a kid, took over, and propelled our imagination, our strong legs and arms...and our endlessly loud, howls at each other...all creating a symphonic bit of a frenzy...not one single one of us...can now...re-enact...but do vividly recall...
All of us...such a bundle of energy...scattering, battering, screaming all about, here and there...some of the girls playing jump rope, some of the boys playing tag...It was rather simplistic...but there was never a dull moment...in our early, early years....
As we grew taller...our spirits and wits only grew higher...and our boundless energy...made us quite a bunch to control and corral...as our recesses would fly by, ever so quickly, then wind down...in no time at all...during our middle grades...
One of the things, that was quite unique for our school recess time...at Saint Thomas More...was a game for us boys, we called, Smear The Queer...a mashed mix of rugby, football & hooliganism...at its finest...This faded blacktop, sometimes snowy, sometimes filled with puddles,became our battleground...feet pounding...people chasing...shirts ripping...mouths bleeding...One second, you are scott free...running wild...frantically scampering...
Then suddenly, running out of breath...within seconds...looking all about...realizing you are cornered...and expecting to be smothered with clash of elbows and fists and bodies colliding in a furious motion...of activity...scaring you with a bit of horror and pain...
All the girls could do...is look on...and cringe...and laugh...and cover their eyes...and by all means, stay out of our way...as us thunderous herd of boys, came perilously close to death, in a funny kind of playground madness...
Most of the time...there we were...starting off our recess...we'd roll up a winter cap...into a ball...and just throw it up in the air...and off...the chase was on...We all had our moment in the sun...smashing, crashing, breaking loose...and forging past...a brick wall of kids all vying for that curled-up winter cap...It was a tremendous feeling of exhileration, beyond wild compare at the time...And it was more often, than not...a hellacious battle between some of the tougher kids, getting mean and ornery, would erupt...if the tangled melee got a little too rough and dicey...
Surely...Punches flew, angry glances shared and usually a bit of wild laughter resulted when it was all said and done...as we plodded back into the school...our clothes in tatters and our minds a clouded haze of rage...sometimes bleeding, sometimes not...but everyone of us, felt like we just ran a damn marathon...and could easily pant and gasp...for at least, another good 5 minutes...to just wind down...
Inevitably, the beat-downs of Smear, subsided, as the teachers tried to introduce us to more civilized activities...KICK-BALL was introduced...as a game for both girls & boys to play with, at the same time...which was quite fun...in around the 6th Grade...I do remember being out on the black-top, during kick-ball, playing Second Base...when the rather large red ball came quickly bounding directly at me...awkwardly catching me off-balance...My eyes were forced to look down at the ball, locking it in, as it punched into my gut...
and then suddenly...WHAMMY...this brazen, tom-boy, of a girl, a freaking runaway train called, Kathy Callahan, came barreling into me, Pete Rose style...wiping me out...forcing the ball to drop out of my hands...and sending me sprawling, flat to the pavement, scraping my knees, and knocking the wind out of me...leaving me endlessly...quite embarassed a mere girl, had just cleared me out...completely...
I did manage, to stagger, then, stand back up, at that moment...a little woozy, a little dizzy...but mostly the utter red, red, red, embarrassment, was the most startling thing I do recall from such an encounter...There Kathy stood back up, on Second Base, victoriously, with a very big smile on her face...and I think all the crazy kids were cracking up...because the trainwreck collision was quite a doozy...and I always did manage to keep a close eye on Kathy Callahan, from that point on, expecting her to try something like that again...
Then for a brief time...we tried to play...QUARTERS... a fun little bit of magic...tossing coins between cracks on the pavement...It was quite a hoot...cuz' we all had the potential, to toss a ripe quarter into a crack...and maybe win...a few bucks...and the undeniable pride...of being just about as cool as it gets...back then...
As our final year, out on the pavement, came winding down, our 8th Grade teacher Mister Sullivan, made us play soccer...We all thought he was crazy...Soccer...????...What the hell is that...???...But he made it his passion to get us to play our hardest and eventually we did catch on and it was a blast...making Mister Sullivan, very happy...he succeeded in introducing this new sport, soccer to us, to understand and enjoy...
Well....recess is over...I hear the bell...ringing...and ringing....and ringing...
Yes...stop now...stop playing...it's over...QUIT PLAYING!!!...Did you hear me...???...March back into here...right this very second...You heard me...
Awwwwww...not already....Yuuuuccckkk...I don't wanna go back to school...
Yes....You said that then...but now realize...you'd jump at a heartbeat...to go back in time...to those illustrious...Playground Days...all of us...every single, one of us...who cherishes...and holds, those moments, so near and dear, to our hearts...
And my days, for those recess times, that spanned 20-30 minutes, at Saint Thomas More...out in the parking lot...a hard, blacktop surface, that seemed to stretch endlessly...never, ever appeared anything less than an oasis...from our drudgery of daily school life...
Sure, other schools may have had grass...or maybe swings or even monkey bars...but it really never phased us one single bit...because, once out there, the laughter and happiness of being a kid, took over, and propelled our imagination, our strong legs and arms...and our endlessly loud, howls at each other...all creating a symphonic bit of a frenzy...not one single one of us...can now...re-enact...but do vividly recall...
All of us...such a bundle of energy...scattering, battering, screaming all about, here and there...some of the girls playing jump rope, some of the boys playing tag...It was rather simplistic...but there was never a dull moment...in our early, early years....
As we grew taller...our spirits and wits only grew higher...and our boundless energy...made us quite a bunch to control and corral...as our recesses would fly by, ever so quickly, then wind down...in no time at all...during our middle grades...
One of the things, that was quite unique for our school recess time...at Saint Thomas More...was a game for us boys, we called, Smear The Queer...a mashed mix of rugby, football & hooliganism...at its finest...This faded blacktop, sometimes snowy, sometimes filled with puddles,became our battleground...feet pounding...people chasing...shirts ripping...mouths bleeding...One second, you are scott free...running wild...frantically scampering...
Then suddenly, running out of breath...within seconds...looking all about...realizing you are cornered...and expecting to be smothered with clash of elbows and fists and bodies colliding in a furious motion...of activity...scaring you with a bit of horror and pain...
All the girls could do...is look on...and cringe...and laugh...and cover their eyes...and by all means, stay out of our way...as us thunderous herd of boys, came perilously close to death, in a funny kind of playground madness...
Most of the time...there we were...starting off our recess...we'd roll up a winter cap...into a ball...and just throw it up in the air...and off...the chase was on...We all had our moment in the sun...smashing, crashing, breaking loose...and forging past...a brick wall of kids all vying for that curled-up winter cap...It was a tremendous feeling of exhileration, beyond wild compare at the time...And it was more often, than not...a hellacious battle between some of the tougher kids, getting mean and ornery, would erupt...if the tangled melee got a little too rough and dicey...
Surely...Punches flew, angry glances shared and usually a bit of wild laughter resulted when it was all said and done...as we plodded back into the school...our clothes in tatters and our minds a clouded haze of rage...sometimes bleeding, sometimes not...but everyone of us, felt like we just ran a damn marathon...and could easily pant and gasp...for at least, another good 5 minutes...to just wind down...
Inevitably, the beat-downs of Smear, subsided, as the teachers tried to introduce us to more civilized activities...KICK-BALL was introduced...as a game for both girls & boys to play with, at the same time...which was quite fun...in around the 6th Grade...I do remember being out on the black-top, during kick-ball, playing Second Base...when the rather large red ball came quickly bounding directly at me...awkwardly catching me off-balance...My eyes were forced to look down at the ball, locking it in, as it punched into my gut...
and then suddenly...WHAMMY...this brazen, tom-boy, of a girl, a freaking runaway train called, Kathy Callahan, came barreling into me, Pete Rose style...wiping me out...forcing the ball to drop out of my hands...and sending me sprawling, flat to the pavement, scraping my knees, and knocking the wind out of me...leaving me endlessly...quite embarassed a mere girl, had just cleared me out...completely...
I did manage, to stagger, then, stand back up, at that moment...a little woozy, a little dizzy...but mostly the utter red, red, red, embarrassment, was the most startling thing I do recall from such an encounter...There Kathy stood back up, on Second Base, victoriously, with a very big smile on her face...and I think all the crazy kids were cracking up...because the trainwreck collision was quite a doozy...and I always did manage to keep a close eye on Kathy Callahan, from that point on, expecting her to try something like that again...
Then for a brief time...we tried to play...QUARTERS... a fun little bit of magic...tossing coins between cracks on the pavement...It was quite a hoot...cuz' we all had the potential, to toss a ripe quarter into a crack...and maybe win...a few bucks...and the undeniable pride...of being just about as cool as it gets...back then...
As our final year, out on the pavement, came winding down, our 8th Grade teacher Mister Sullivan, made us play soccer...We all thought he was crazy...Soccer...????...What the hell is that...???...But he made it his passion to get us to play our hardest and eventually we did catch on and it was a blast...making Mister Sullivan, very happy...he succeeded in introducing this new sport, soccer to us, to understand and enjoy...
Well....recess is over...I hear the bell...ringing...and ringing....and ringing...
Yes...stop now...stop playing...it's over...QUIT PLAYING!!!...Did you hear me...???...March back into here...right this very second...You heard me...
Awwwwww...not already....Yuuuuccckkk...I don't wanna go back to school...
Yes....You said that then...but now realize...you'd jump at a heartbeat...to go back in time...to those illustrious...Playground Days...all of us...every single, one of us...who cherishes...and holds, those moments, so near and dear, to our hearts...
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