Gifts To Remember

My mother reminded me, “You can open lots of presents; you can only keep the memories.”

Like packages we opened ages ago, people we once knew, places we’ve been – nothing stays the same. Things get lost, wear out, the colors fade. Our memories stay bright; maybe not brand new, but priceless nonetheless. Sitting beside the tree, brightly decorated for the holidays, I unwrap my memories; I go back …

To Philadelphia, to Mayfair, where I was born; to the Mayfair pool where I learned to swim; to the graves in Pennypack Park that memorialize my mom’s family …

To the farm my father moved us to in Virginia – from peg pants and row houses, to bib overalls and milking cows: culture shock and awe …

To Glen Allen High School – it’s a museum now! – holding hands with Nancy Owens on the school bus home from a Junior Varsity basketball game; to Catherine Stewart’s mother encouraging me to write stories; to my history teacher, Mr. Johnson, directing me to a “Best Actor” performance at a University of Virginia festival of one-act plays; and to the many fights I survived with bigoted teenagers who didn’t like Damn Yankees …

To three years in the Air Force during the Korean War, and an honorable discharge – authorized by President Harry Truman, who mistakenly thought the war was over …

To three years at the University of Richmond, earning a B.A. with the help of the G.I. Bill, going to school full time, and working full time for The Richmond News Leader – I joined Phi Delta Theta fraternity, but had little time for socializing …

I did meet Grace Edith Burton and spent two turbulent years that ended in a stormy cruise to Bermuda – we were too young to make the voyage …

And, two years as a technical writer for the Airborne Department of the Army in Ft. Lee, Virginia, where I also learned to pack parachutes …

In Detroit, I wrote ads for Pontiac Motor Division, and created advertising campaigns for Hush Puppies Shoes – I no longer wear pigskin shoes, and Pontiacs are history …

I loved Cuba and thought I might move there to teach skin diving, until my diving mentor, President of the Pan American Skin Diving Association, Arnando Piedra, was killed during the Revolution – I left Cuba when a bomb went off in the street outside the Habana Hilton …

In Bloomfield Hills, my best friend, Bill Claire shared his religious skepticism, his love of fine art, and his new found interest in jumping out of airplanes; we purchased a war surplus T-10 and an emergency chute and went looking for a pilot, a plane, and a place to land – at least, I knew how to repack the chute.

In Novi, almost on the approach path to Detroit Metro Airport, we made our first few jumps – and I accidentally fell 3,000 feet out of an airplane without a parachute! Which landed me out of a job, with severe fractures and a useless right arm for a year – that story comes wrapped with amazingly colorful explanations …

Thankfully, BBDO was willing to hire a right-handed copywriter who could only use his left hand … 

Then, on to living solo at Pine Lake, with a ski boat at the dock, and a Cessna in a hanger at Pontiac Airport …

Another move – this time to writing for an ad agency at 555 Madison Avenue in Manhattan – before Ad Man became a television show …

Heading for Hollywood, to west L.A. at least, to co-star with Gayle Hunnicutt – in Great Britain, Lady Jenkins – in the Equity-waver production of “Hotel Babel” …

To doing voices at Hanna Barbara with the great Gerald Mohr, in the “Fantastic Four” animated TV cartoon series – he was Mr. Fantastic, I was the Human Torch …

To filming the World Aerobatic Championships at Oshkosh, Wisconsin, and coming in 7th in the aerobatic competition …

To five fabulous years touring the world with my closest friend, the legendary, Jerry Lewis …

To Marylou! Home at last! For 42 years and the gifts are still coming! To the miracle of Teddy – now Ted and Elayna! And, someday, maybe a new generation of presents under the tree …

To anchoring “The Adventures of Jac Flanders,” entertainment news on KTXL-TV40 in the Bay Area …

To wining Emmy and Christopher Awards for writing about kids in prison and their dreams for the future, in the documentary series, “Desperate Passage” …

To having a book of essays, “What I Learned On The Way Down,” – some double entendre there – introduced at Book Expo America in New York City …

To living in Cardiff By The Sea, discovering the San Elijo Lagoon Conservancy, and cautiously accepting having reached 80 – on my way to the final destination. Ted gave me a pin that says, “I’ve Survived Damn Near Everything,” but I’m not quite ready to pin it on!

The gifts have been spectacular.

“You’re just bragging,” I heard someone say. Damn right!

Have a merry Christmas opening and sharing your memories, and enjoy a fantastic 2014!