Everybody needs a little 'Yee-ha!'

There are times it seems where everybody needs a little “Yee-ha!” in their life. Or maybe that’s just me since I’ve got a Midwestern background, where “Yee-ha!” is more plentiful than it is here on the East Coast.
Last weekend provided such an opportunity for me, at one of my favorite places on the planet, the Sellersville Theater 1894. That’s where bluegrass and country legend Ricky Skaggs performed two shows on Saturday, the first of which I attended.
I was forced to go it alone because The Blonde Accountant is an East Coast girl who’s hip. I really dig those styles she wears. In reality though, she doesn’t have an ounce of “Yee-ha!” in her entire body. Getting her to come along was a tough sell and although I tried right up until it was time to leave for the concert, I never closed the deal.
But Ricky Skaggs does have a bunch of “Yee-ha!” because he’s a good old boy who hails from the mountains of Eastern Kentucky who has been playing bluegrass music since he was a youngster, which is about 50 years now.
Now bluegrass music isn’t really my thing, although I do like the theme song to the “Beverly Hillbillies.” And any time you go see a band that has a banjo, a fiddle and a mandolin it in, you’re going to experience a fair amount of “Yee-ha!” in the show.
But Skaggs, who plays the mandolin, and his band Kentucky Thunder are the best in the business and I quite enjoyed the concert.
I had interviewed Skaggs a few weeks ago for a preview story on his Sellersville visit and he was articulate, gracious and chatty during our telephone conversation. I was fortunate enough to be introduced to him after the show. It was a short meeting and he was much less chatty, although in all fairness, he probably wasn’t much interested in a rumpled reporter hitting him with a big “Yee-ha!”
Of course, I now had an extra “Yee-ha!” that I needed to get rid of, so I saved it for The Blonde Accountant when I got home. Not surprisingly, she didn’t want much to do with it either.
I guess everybody doesn’t need a little “Yee-ha!” in their life, but I’ve still got a few extras to pass out. Don’t be surprised if you get one the next time we talk.

Remembering Sheriff Durante

Early on in my career as editor of the Times Herald in Norristown sometime in 2001, I wrote an editorial in support of the way Montgomery County Sheriff John Durante handled a situation involving his deputies.
From then on, our paths crossed professionally and personally many times over the years. I once sat with him in the owner’s box at Veterans Stadium, shooting the breeze during a game between the Phillies and the Dodgers. We served together on the advisory board of the Montgomery County Coaches Hall of Fame.
If my job required me to talk to him in an official capacity, I always found him to be credible and honest in dealing with the county’s business. If there was no official business to conduct, John was always ready with a back-slapping story, willing to occasionally bend and elbow and toss in a few profanities while doing it.
I considered it a unique relationship between an elected public official and a journalist based on mutual trust and respect.
John called me Monday morning, Feb. 8. He had something cooking with his good pal, Dodgers Hall of Fame manager Tommy Lasorda, a Norristown native, that he wanted to share with me. We talked about John’s pending trip to Florida for spring training, one that he took nearly every year. He knew that I always liked to talk baseball and he was more than willing to share baseball stories with me. I always yukked it up when John told a story.
Less than 48 hours later, John died at home from a massive heart attack. Despite some previous heart problems, his sudden death has shocked many in our local communities. His funeral is this week.
I considered him a friend. I respected him, I liked him and I’ll miss him.

PETA's poking at Phil a real PITA

The key to the shenanigans surrounding the whole Punxsutawney Phil thing is that those involved don’t take themselves too seriously.
Apparently, the good folks at People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) didn’t get the memo. This year, the group was suggesting that Phil be replaced with a robotic stand-in because it’s unfair to the groundhog to not only keep him in captivity but then to subject him to throngs of people and the bright lights that come with all of the media attention.
Huh?
Stinkin’ media and its bright lights. Crumb bums the whole lot of them. Why, no self-respecting gopher can even dig a tunnel and ruin a golf course (“Caddyshack” reference for those of you wondering) without the media sticking its nose in nowadays.
According to William Deeley, president of the Inner Circle of the Punxsutawney Groundhog Club — the Grand Groundhog Guy, or Triple-G, as it were — Phil is “treated better than the average child in Pennsylvania.”
Phil’s crib is in a climate-controlled environment and the varmint doesn’t miss too many meals tipping the scales at 12 lbs., a bit heavier than the average groundhog that weighs in at 9 and one-half lbs.
Well . . . maybe it wasn’t a good idea that Triple-G used an analogy that suggested we treat our groundhogs better than we treat our children in Pennsylvania. That certainly opens the door for the PETA faithful burrow into Phil’s business.
Still, Deeley may have been right when he said that PETA doesn’t give a hang about Phil any other time of the year and was just looking for publicity around Groundhog’s Day.
Certainly PETA has better causes to pursue than poking at Phil with a stick. PETA needs to worry about being PETA. Or it will end up being a PITA.