Music, Music, Music!!!

Who doesn’t like music? Last night I received my copy of the CD, Kenosha Comes Alive. This is a compilation put together by local musicians who are dedicated to seeing that the Kenosha Unified School District Music Programs stay in tact. All proceeds from the sale of this CD will go toward that purpose. This is a wonderful project and I encourage you to help out by purchasing a CD. Including shipping, it cost me less than $14.00. If you would like to help this worthy cause, click on Kenosha Comes Alive to be linked to Amazon.

While burning the CD onto my iTunes, I noticed that I now have over 960 songs providing me with almost 65 hours of musical bliss. Being a lover of lists, I decided to choose my favorite song from 76 different artists.

Full Disclosure: Selecting a song for Dropkick Murphys, Queen and R.E.M. was very difficult. The Who was next to impossible.

Aerosmith – No More No More

Alice Cooper – Halo Of Flies

America - Lonely People

Aretha Franklin – Think

The Association - Cherish

The Beatles – Getting Better

Black Sabbath - Electric Funeral

Blondie - Dreaming

Blood, Sweat and Tears – You Made Me So Very Happy

Blue Öyster Cult - Debbie Denise

Bob Dylan – Tangled Up In Blues

The BoDeans – You Don’t Get Much

The Boomtown Rats – Someone’s Looking At You

The Byrds – My Back Pages

Carole King - You’ve Got A Friend

The Cars – Moving In Stereo

Cat Stevens – Father And Son

Cheap Trick – Elo Kiddies

Chicago – Questions 67 And 68

The Clash – Should I Stay Or Should I Go

Cold Play – The Scientist

Collective Soul – Reach

Concrete Blonde – Tomorrow, Wendy

Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young – Teach Your Children

The Cure – Friday I’m In Love

Dan Fogelberg – Leader Of The Pack

David Bowie – Five Years

Del Amitri – Be My Downfall

Depeche Mode – Enjoy The Silence

The Doors – Touch Me

Dropkick Murphys – Fields Of Athenry

The Eagles – The Last Resort

Electric Light Orchestra – Ma-Ma-Ma- Belle

Elton John – Your Song

Fleetwood Mac - Landslide

The Four Tops – Reach Out I’ll Be There

Genesis – Carpet Crawlers

The Hollies – He Ain’t Heavy… He’s My Brother

INXS – Beautiful Girl

Jethro Tull – Locomotive Breath

John Lennon – Imagine

Judy Collins – Both Sides Now

The Killers – Human

The Kinks – Celluloid Heroes

KISS – Black Diamond

Led Zeppelin – Living Loving Maid

Mat Kearney – Closer To Love

Matthew Sweet – Divine Intervention

Meat Loaf – You Took The Words Right Out Of My Mouth

Michelle Shocked – Come A Long Way

The Moody Blues – Ride My See-Saw

Neil Diamond – Holly Holy

Neil Young – Old Man

Pete Townshend – And I Moved

Peter Gabriel – Don’t Give Up

The Psychedelic Furs – Heartbreak Beat

Queen – ‘39

R.E.M. – Perfect Circle

The Rascals – How Can I Be Sure

Rod Stewart – Reason To Believe

The Rolling Stones – Gimme Shelter

Simon and Garfunkel – I Am A Rock

Sly And The Family Stone – Everyday People

The Smithereens – Yesterday Girl

Soul Asylum – Black Gold

Stevie Winwood – The Finer Things

Talking Heads – Psycho Killer

Ted Nugent - Stranglehold
Thin Lizzy - Cowboy Song

Tom Petty – Running Down A Dream

Tom Waits – I Hope That I Don’t Fall In Love With You

U2 – Sunday Bloody Sunday

Uriah Heep - Paradise

Van Morrison – Brown Eyed Girl

The Who – The Song Is Over

World Party – Take It Up

I look forward to hearing your comments and would be interested in what some of your favorites are. Before you go, please click on Kenosha Comes Alive and order a CD, it’s a wonderful cause!

Until next time…from the booth.

A Crazy Day

It’s been established that Koos Inc. was the first job that I had after graduating from high school. However, it wasn’t the first place that I worked. While in high school, I worked at the Howard Johnson’s restaurant out on I-94 as a busboy and dishwasher. After that I enjoyed a stellar career at the Burger King across from Ace Hardware. Prior to those jobs I cut lawns and shoveled snow, typical jobs a junior high kid did to earn a few extra bucks. However, there was one job that I had in my youth that was anything but typical. 

It only lasted one day, but it was a crazy day.

The job took place during summer break when I was about 14 years old. Tired of working around the house for our folks, my cousin John Dean, my brother Mike and I decided that if we were going to work we were going to get paid for it.

Being enterprising lads, we found a program through Manpower designed to obtain summer work for young people. The three of marched into the KYF to signup, determined to find a job. We didn’t care what the job was; we just wanted to get paid.

After filling out the necessary paperwork, we eagerly started digging through the listings of available jobs. It didn’t take us long before we discovered the ideal job. The carnival was coming to town for Crazy Days and it needed help setting up the rides. It was one full day and paid $1.50 an hour. This was perfect! Or so we thought…

Let me provide a quick explanation for those of you unfamiliar with Crazy Days.

Crazy Days was an event that took place each summer in downtown Kenosha. Local merchants set up tables outside of their shops to sell their goods at unbelievably low prices. Food vendors hawked tasty delights and the streets were closed off to make room for a bevy of amazing carnival rides.

It was a wonderful festival that would kick off on Friday night, lasting the entire weekend. In our adolescent minds, Thursday morning couldn’t get there fast enough. We were going to set up the rides and get paid for the honor. It was going to be great! Or so we thought…

When Thursday finally got there, our folks dropped us off on the corner of 55^th Street and 6^th Avenue across from Nehlsen’s Sporting Goods. The three of us were greeted by a small gathering of kids. We exchanged smiles, and then looked up at the blazing July sun. It was going to be a hot one.

Shortly after 10:00 o’clock, four rough looking characters with cigarettes dangling from their lips walked towards us. They were the carnies and were dressed in filthy, tattered work clothes. Wide-eyed, my cousin John Dean looked at my brother and me and muttered, “Oh shit.”

He was right. Oh shit.

There was no way that this trio of naive, fairly clean cut Catholic boys were prepared for what was about to transpire. Over the next ten hours we were exposed to not only, hard manual labor in extreme heat, but also to four of the stupidest, most vile, foul-mouthed barbarians that we would ever encounter during our young lives.

Here are a few highlights:

Lifting the massive, rusty base of the ride was not done with a fork truck or some sort of mechanical device. No, it was hoisted off of the back of a flatbed truck by the four grubby carnies and 6 or 7 young boys. I think that I experienced my first groin pull that day. Or maybe it was a hernia, I’m not quite sure.

Needing some nuts to secure the bolts being used, a carny ordered me to hand him a “couple of nuts”. Not wanting to incur the wrath of the unwashed cretin, I quickly handed him three nuts. He immediately called me stupid and said that a “couple” means two. A mere twenty seconds later he asked me for another nut.

Speaking of nuts and bolts, the proper size weren’t always available. When this happened, a nail was inserted into the hole and then bent over with a pliers. Honest. That is what was holding together many of the rides we rode at Crazy Days.

At one point, a pair of attractive women clad in skimpy tank tops and shorts waked by, one pushing a baby in a stroller. This caused one of the grimy carnies to blurt out, “Hey baby, I’ll give you another one!” Not to be outdone, one of his cohorts shouted, “Oh ya, I’ll give her twins!” To which the first carny replied, “Fuck you, go ahead!”

Stuff like this went on the entire day. But at sundown it was over and we were free to go home. Our “perfect” job was complete. All that was left was to find the carny boss and collect our pay.

After asking a few questions we were directed to a small, dilapidated trailer attached to the back of a pickup truck. The only problem was that the trailer had backed into a Volkswagen parked behind it and their bumpers were locked.

You guessed it, before we got paid, the carny boss had us climb up on the bumpers and jump up and down to unlock them. When that was accomplished, we were at long last paid. Granted we had to haggle with him about many hours we had worked and it was cash, but we had got paid. Finally.

Looking back, it was probably good that it was cash. We grabbed our pay, bought a slice of pizza and walked as quickly as our sore bodies could up to Sheridan Road to wait for our ride.

As I said earlier, it only lasted one day, but it was a crazy day. Until next time…from the booth.

I Got Some ‘Splaining To Do

Me - circa 1990

In my last three blogs, “So Sad”, “So Happy” and “One More”, I wrote about one of the most wonderful weeks of my life. I described those five remarkable days in Oshkosh at the Pioneer Inn during the summer of 1990. In that trio of blogs, I related many of the experiences that made it such a special time, however, I never made it clear what exactly made them so memorable. You might think you know why, but there is much more to it. 

I guess I got some ‘splaining to do.

In the time leading up to Oshkosh, I had gone through a rather monumental personal metamorphism. Not only had I been promoted to Human Resource Director at Koos Inc., but I had also lost some weight. A considerable amount of weight. A whole lot of weight. Without getting into exact numbers, let’s just say that I was half the man I used to be. Literally.

It was a gradual process, taking over a year before accomplishing this tremendous physical feat. By the time I made that trip to Oshkosh, I was the lightest I ever was since junior high school.

Reminiscing, it was sort of surreal. My appearance was totally different. People that I hadn’t seen for awhile didn’t recognize me. It was amazing being able to buy clothes off the rack at “normal” stores. I even wore shorts in public.

This was all fantastic. I definitely enjoyed being “normal” and all of the perks that went along with it. The numerous compliments that I received were appreciated but unnecessary.

The thing is, in my mind, I was still Paul the jolly fat guy.

Perhaps because I never mentally morphed from Paul the jolly fat guy, I never accepted the whole concept of being “normal”. No matter what the package on the outside looked like, the inside hadn’t changed. I was still Paul the jolly fat guy, not some “normal” guy.

That is the reason the week in Oshkosh was so exceptional. These were people that never knew Paul the jolly fat guy. They had never met me before and yet they liked me. They really liked me!

Don’t get me wrong, even before I became a “normal” guy, I had no problem meeting and socializing with others. After all, I was a jolly fat guy.

But it was always on my terms. I had to initiate the interaction; I had to be in control of the circumstance. It was my defense mechanism. There was an unmistakable need to be sure the situation was comfortable. I needed to be prepared for anything that might happen.

The lack of being in control is what made the Oshkosh event so unforgettable. I was completely unprepared for total strangers to be friendly and to spark relationships with me.

The icing on the cake was when the ladies asked me to dance with them in the nightclub. Women weren’t supposed to be attracted to me. I was Paul the jolly fat guy. I never saw this coming and was totally flummoxed. Things like this weren’t supposed to happen to me.

But they did. And that is why those five days in Oshkosh at the Pioneer Inn during the summer of 1990 were a such remarkable period in my life.

Over the years I have transformed back to Paul the jolly fat guy, both physically and mentally. Looking back, I never quit being Paul the jolly fat guy. Not even when I was “normal”. I will never forget Oshkosh. It will always be special.

I hope that now you understand, because I’m done ‘splaining. Until next time…from the booth.

One More

Packer Training Camp

In my last blog I mentioned that I might be able to come up with one more story from my experiences at the Pioneer Inn. In the last few installments of From The Booth, I have been gushing about the fabulous week that I spent in Oshkosh back in 1990. In “So Happy”, I wrote about the wonderful people that I had met and the incredible party we had on the last night there. As great as that party was, it wasn’t the only fond memory from that week. Another recollection that comes to mind provides me with one more story.

If you recall, the first classmate that I met at the Human Resource seminar was my “next door neighbor”, John. He had the room next to mine and came knocking on my door minutes after I arrived. Given the proximity of our living quarters, John and I got to know each quickly and usually ate lunch together at the resort’s outstanding restaurant.

John lived in Milwaukee, commuted to Madison daily for his job and had just recently gotten married. I knew this because he often excused himself to call his bride. I recall one afternoon when he bolted out of the conference room the moment class ended. As he rushed down the hall, he smiled at me and said, “The wife drove up for a visit!” He was young and in love.

I have neglected to tell you one important thing about John. He was black and I now that I think of it, I would imagine that he still is. The color of a person’s skin doesn’t matter to me in the least. However, for this particular story it does have significance. Trust me, you will see.

Typically, our class was from 8:00 am to 4:00 pm with an hour off for lunch. Except for Wednesday, that was our short day. After an early lunch, we were free for the rest of the day.

It seemed like everyone had plans on how to spend their free time. Many of the ladies had planned to go shopping at the huge outlet mall located in Oshkosh, while others were going to enjoy Lake Winnebago.

Since the Green Bay Packer training camp was in full swing, I had decided to go watch the team practice. I asked the people seated near me in the restaurant if any of them were interested in joining me.

They all politely declined, except for John. He quietly said that he would like to go with. I told him, “Cool, let’s go” and got up from the table.

As we were walking toward the parking lot, John asked me if I was sure that it was okay that he was coming along. A bit perplexed, I reassured him with a loud, “Why not?” and we were on our way. The 50-mile trip on Highway 41 went by quickly and we arrived in Titletown less than an hour later.

Practice hadn’t started yet, so I chose to drive around Lambeau Field to give John a tour of the venerable stadium, driving slowly through the large parking lot.

As I carefully maneuvered my bulky silver-gray Dodge Ramcharger through the multitude of Packer fans milling about, some began approaching us. John’s eyes widened when the fans started waving at us and slapping the hood of my SUV.

When I noticed the Packer players were riding bikes and making their way from Lambeau Field to the practice fields across the street, I decided to get a parking space and find a spot for us to sit.

While walking to the portable bleachers, fans continued to wave at the two of us, many cheerfully shouting hello. When we finally sat down, John had a twinkle in his eye and said, “The people up here sure are nice. Thanks!” I smiled and told him it was no problem.

A heartwarming story, don’t you think? Now let me add a humorous twist to this tale.

Remember that I said it was significant that John was black? Well, not only was he black, but he was also tall, good-looking and put together well. In fact, he played varsity tennis in college. He was athletic look about him.

Now factor into the equation that we were in Green Bay, Wisconsin in the year 1990. At that time, there were not many blacks in Green Bay that weren’t playing for the Packers or a part of their organization. Especially athletic-looking young black men.

John was a young, athletic-looking black man at Lambeau Field in Green Bay, Wisconsin and it was 1990. He just had to be a Packer! At least that’s what those fans thought on that warm summer day.

I am sure that’s why they were so nice to John; they thought he was a Green Bay Packer. But thing is, if they actually knew John, they would have been nice to him even though he wasn’t a Packer. I know that I’m glad that he spent the afternoon with me.

Until next time…from the booth.

So Happy

Okay, the sadness I was experiencing last week has finally ebbed enough for me to make good on my promise to do a blog about more joyous times. If you recall, at the end of “So Sad”, I pledged to let you know why my stay at the Pioneer Inn was so memorable. I also said that it would be a joy reliving those glorious moments, and it will be. That week was unquestionably one of the most wonderful periods of my life. 

It made me happy. So happy.

This glorious span of five-plus days revolved around a Human Resource seminar in Oshkosh, Wisconsin and took place the summer of 1990. The setting was the rustic Pioneer Inn resort, nestled on sparkling Lake Winnebago.

This resplendent lodge featured 182 beautiful guest rooms, 10 suites and complete conference and retreat facilities. An award-winning restaurant overlooking the lake was available for your dining pleasure. 

Other amenities included a nightclub, an indoor/outdoor pool, whirlpool, a fitness room and a game room. Available outside was a sizable marina, watercraft rentals, a bike/walking path, volleyball courts and a miniature golf course.

This place had it all and it made me happy. So happy.

When I checked in early Sunday evening. I had barely put my luggage away before there was a knock on my door. My “next door neighbor”, John, had seen me entering my room and he figured that I might be there for the same reason. He was right, we were both attending the same seminar.

The next morning I met the rest that were there for the training session. The group was comprised of 20 individuals from different parts of Wisconsin. Besides John and myself, there were only two other males. That’s right, 16 women and 4 men. If my Tremper High School math serves me correctly, that’s a 4 to 1 ratio.

Are you beginning to see why I was happy? So happy.

The seminar incorporated many interactive projects that included a great deal of role-playing. This provided an excellent way to get to know the others. For some reason, the more boisterous characters seemed to gravitate toward me. It didn’t take long before I realized that this was going to be fun. And this was just the seminar.

For the most part, the schedule was class from 8:00 am to 4:00 pm with an hour off for lunch in the marvelous resort restaurant. That left plenty of time to enjoy the many features offered at the Pioneer Inn and to explore Oshkosh. I also continued to become more acquainted with my new classmates.

Typically, the day would end with a number of us meeting in the nightclub for a drink. At first, we would only discuss the seminar.  But once we had become more familiar with each other, we started joking around, telling stories and having some laughs.

The second night that our group assembled in the lounge, we noticed a poster promoting a musical group that would be appearing beginning Thursday evening. That being our last night together, we immediately decided that we would make that our going away party. We agreed to try to get as many people from our seminar to attend.

This was going to be a blast. I was happy. So happy.

When Thursday arrived, it was bittersweet. Sure, there was the get-together at the nightclub, complete with a live band, but it was a farewell party. More than likely, the next morning would be the last time that I would ever see these people.

Fortunately something happened to take my mind off of this fact. Someone had noticed a sign advertising one-dollar margaritas. There was going to be a pre-party party at the pub just up the road from the Pioneer Inn. There was no doubt that this would add to the merriment.

At 5 o’clock sharp a gregarious group of twelve started the two-block trek to quench its collective thirst. Unfortunately we were greeted with some disappointing news. Evidently the margarita special was on Wednesday night. We were crestfallen.

Our frowns were quickly turned upside when the barkeep informed us that Thursday’s special was 10-cent beer. That’s right, beer was only a dime a cup. It almost made me wish that I had not quit drinking. I could have done some serious damage to my liver at that price, but I thought better of it.

Needless to say our merry band of human resource types was adequately lubricated when it was time to head back to the Pioneer Inn for the real party. That short hike was chock-full of staggering, weaving and hilarity.

It’s safe to say that I was happy. So happy.

When we finally made it back to the nightclub, we were greeted by four more of our classmates and a Prince tribute band. Not exactly my favorite type of music, but hey, the place was jumping and I was enjoying my company. I was having a great time.

Then it happened. One of the ladies from our group asked me to dance with her. After getting over the initial shock, I politely explained that I wasn’t comfortable dancing, especially to a song that fast. Smiling, she grumbled something about not being done with me. Relieved, I went back to my diet Coke and continued telling jokes.

A bit later, the band was playing a slow ballad. Suddenly I was jerked from my seat by another one of my female classmates and dragged by my hand onto the dance floor. Hey, I was a lot smaller in 1990. But that’s a story for another day and another blog.

I had barely started to enjoy the slow dance when the lady who had first asked me to dance abruptly grabbed my shoulder, pulling me away. She blurted out, “He’s mine.” She then added, “I thought you didn’t dance?”, and led me away. Sheepishly I shrugged my shoulders and went with my new dance partner.

The remainder of the evening was a blur. I had never received so much attention from peoples that I hardly new. And they were of the opposite sex, no less! I couldn’t believe what was happening.

The Friday morning session was short and sweet. We traded goodbyes and awkward smiles while exchanging business cards and phone numbers. Deep down I knew that I would never hear from these wonderful people again, much less see any of them.

And I was right. Oh, I might have received a card from one of the ladies, but never again did I see anyone from that incredible week at the Pioneer Inn. They are all just memories. Magnificent and fantastic memories.

That’s why I’m still happy. So happy.

Believe it or not, I might be able to pull one last story from my experiences at the memorable Pioneer Inn. We shall see. Until next time…from the booth.

So Sad

The Pioneer Inn, Oshkosh, Wisconsin

The current heat wave has caused me to be sad. So sad. No, it’s not because of the scorching temperatures or the oppressive dew points. It’s not even the 105° heat index we experienced today. While I personally do not enjoy any of those things, they are not the reason for my present state of unhappiness. But rest assure that the current heat wave has definitely caused me to be sad. So sad.

This hot spell that we are mired in brought about this sense of melancholy a couple of nights ago. As can be expected, the local TV news reports have been jam-packed with stories about how air conditioners, beaches and ice cubes.

All I wanted to see was the forecast. I wanted to know how long this was supposed to last. Where was Brian Gotter when you needed him?

Finally my favorite weatherman was on and magically all of his fancy visuals appeared. At one point Gotter was standing in front of a map of Wisconsin when he mentioned the current temperature in Oshkosh.

That’s when it all started.

Oshkosh! I love Oshkosh! After all, the Pioneer Inn was in Oshkosh! One of the most memorable weeks of my entire life took place at the Pioneer Inn. Those were undoubtedly five of the happiest days of my life.

You are probably wondering why I’m so sad if Oshkosh brings back such pleasant memories. I shall get to that, but first a little background is required.

I had recently been promoted to the newly created position of Human Resource Director at Koos Inc. That’s right; Koos, Inc. never had anyone in that position before 1990. I know, I know, but keep in mind that we are talking about Koos Inc.

Since I was new to the position, the company felt that it would benefit me to attend a seminar concerning the intricacies of Human Resources. That is where Oshkosh and the Pioneer Inn entered into the equation because that is where the seminar took place.

So, on a lovely Sunday afternoon in the summer of 1990, I aimed my Dodge Ramcharger north on Highway 41, not really knowing what to expect. 2½ hours and 120 miles later I arrived at the Pioneer Inn resort located on sparkling Lake Winnebago.

The time between Sunday evening when I arrived and Friday afternoon when I left were chock-full of wonderful memories. I believe that I was smiling the entire time I was there. I know that I am smiling right now.

Then why am I am so sad? 

On that fateful night, when I was reminded of Oshkosh, I immediately did a search on my computer for the Pioneer Inn. I needed another glimpse, a reminder of that glorious week. It would be like looking up an old friend.

Unfortunately, what I found is the reason that I am downhearted. The Pioneer Inn is no longer with us. That enchanting 180-room resort located on Lake Winnebago in Oshkosh, Wisconsin no longer exists. It’s gone.

When I searched “Pioneer Inn Oshkosh”, I got a response from tripadvisor.com titled, “Why is the Pioneer Inn closed?” What I saw next caused my heart to drop.

There were 29 replies, a few explanations mixed in with many notes of disbelief. This comment probably summed things up the best:

“Unbelievable: I cannot believe this beautiful property is not being used. At the very least they should open up the restaurant. This is a crime and the guy that bought this property should be put in jail.

Long story short. The owners and the DNR got into a big disagreement and a lot of legal red tape regarding public as opposed to private land usage on the proposed site of the hotel/condo.

The resort was open in the summer of 2005, sans hotel. Just the restaurant and banquet facilities. Since then, everything has been closed except for the marina, which, quite frankly, is going straight down the crapper.

As a former employee, I am extremely saddened by the constant push and shove match the owners and DNR cannot seem to get over. Call it what you want to call it, back it up with mounds of paperwork and land agreements, but it is what it is...

A bunch of 4 year olds fighting the old “I will not”, “you will too"” game on the school playground.

Shame on you all.”

 It took Brian Gotter’s weather map to make me aware that this once-magnificent institution is no longer around. This resort that was the hub for what was the most outstanding 5-day period of my life ceases to be.

I am sad. So sad.

That is enough mourning for my old friend, the Pioneer Inn. In an upcoming blog I promise to let you know why my stay there was so unforgettable. After all this gloominess, it’s the least I can do. Besides, it will be a joy reliving those glorious moments.

Until next time…from the booth.