Never leave a ballgame early

This is why we never leave a ballgame early. My good friend Ted drove out from Illinois for a visit last weekend. Ted is one of the original Iron Undershorts Boys — guys who drive long distances without stopping much just to do things that most women would consider idiotic. In this instance, Ted was driving 881 over 14 hours and 8 minutes just to attend a Steve Forbert concert as part of the Bryn Mawr Concert Series presented by the Lower Merion Parks and Recreation department. Ted is a big fan of Steve Forbert, a singer songwriter once hailed by critics as the “new Bob Dylan.” Ted is also a big fan of Bob Dylan, owns every album of the guy has ever made and has seen him numerous times in concert, so it comes as no surprise that he would drive straight through halfway across the country to see a guy from the Dylan fold. So we had a perfect plan: That morning, Saturday, June 23, Ted and I worked the Montgomery Media table at the Souderton 125th anniversary parade and block party. I had tickets for the Phillies that afternoon and the ballclub accommodated us by having the start time at 4:05 p.m. The Forbert show in Bryn Mawr was scheduled for 7 p.m. that evening, but there was an opening act so we figured Forbert wouldn’t actually go on until closer to 8 p.m. We could do all three activities. There was no problem getting from Souderton to Philly for the first pitch. And with a relatively cleanly played game with good pitching, that should have given us enough time to get from the ballpark in South Philly to the gazebo in Bryn Mawr. The flaw in that plan was that this year’s Phillies don’t often play clean games that feature good pitching for nine innings. At least not as often as we fans are used to experiencing for the past four or five years. So when it got to be around 6:30 p.m. and the Phillies and Tampa Bay Rays were only in the sixth inning — with the good guys leading 5-3 — we had to violate one of my longtime rules about leaving a ballgame early if we were going to get to Bryn Mawr on time. After all, my friend is a Cardinals fan and he hadn’t driven 14 hours and 8 minutes in one day to see the Phillies blow another lead late in the game. He had trekked the 881 miles to see Steve Forbert sing. As it turned out, Phillies closer Jonathan Paplebon did indeed blow that two-run lead in the ninth inning just as we were sitting down in our lawn chairs for the concert in Bryn Mawr. It was now 5-5 going into the bottom of the ninth inning. Now I like these community concerts and I like Steve Forbert’s music. But what happened next made it difficult for me not to squirm in my lawn chair. I learned by checking my Twitter account that the first Phillies batter in the bottom of the ninth — the Hall of Fame bound Jim Thome — hit a walk-off home run to win the ballgame! And instead of me sitting in my regular seat at the ballpark watching that excitement, I was in a lawn chair in Bryn Mawr watching Steve Forbert tune his guitar. Argh. Not only that, but it was Thome’s 13th walk-off home run of his career, the most ever by any other player. With that home run, Thome passed the likes of Babe Ruth, Mickey Mantle, Stan Musical, Jimmie Foxx and Frank Robinson — all Hall of Famers — in career walk-off home runs. No disrespect to Mr. Forbert, but given the choice of showing up late for his concert or staying in the ballpark for a walk-off home run by one of my favorite players, I’m going to choose the latter. But it was a great show and my friend got to see the artist he drove all those miles to see. It was a plan that nearly worked. In the end though, it was me singing a different tune. Having not seen the exciting and historic Thome home run, I was singing the blues.

The special moments of the DIMU party

Life’s special moments are sometimes few and far between. But when they happen and one is able to share them with family and friends, they become even more special. I was lucky. I got an entire evening of special moments at the launch party June 12 for my new book, “Dancing in My Underwear: The Soundtrack of My Life,” (Soundtrack.EduPublisher.com). Despite the rainy weather, we had a big crowd, sold a lot of books and got a wonderful performance from Philadelphia singer-songwriter Dan May (there’s a chapter about him in the book) and his band mate, the ridiculously talented guitarist and singer Tom Hampton. I got to sit on stage with the band (what a unique perspective that is for a show), telling stories from the book and leading into the songs. The set list included: “Never My Love” by The Association; “China Grove” by the Doobie Brothers; “An Old Fashioned Love Song” by Three Dog Night; “Sister Golden Hair” by America; two Dan May tunes, “That One Song” and “Paradise”; “That’s Why They Call it The Blues” by Elton John; and the big finish, “Surfer Girl” by the Beach Boys. The even bigger finish was song No. 9 and the final one of the evening, “Dancing in My Underwear,” an original Dan May song that he wrote for the occasion. I heard it for the first time with everyone else that night. Wow. What else can one say when someone as talented as Dan writes a song about my book? What a wonderful gift to receive from a friend. The whole evening was a personal highlight-reel. But “Surfer Girl” was a little more special for me. There is a chapter in the book that details why (in fact, the book has a heavy Beach Boys influence with five different chapters), but the nickel version is that I associate that song with the birth of my oldest daughter, Kiley. She was a preemie, weighing only a little more than 2 lbs. at birth. There was a question of whether she would survive. I turned to Beach Boys music to help me get through that difficult time and all turned out right. She is healthy and happy. When Dan and Tom broke into “Surfer Girl” after my lead-in story, I got up and moved to the side of the stage where I met Kiley. I had not given her a heads up before the show that “Surfer Girl” was going to be performed, but she must have sensed it because she didn’t hesitate to join me on stage for a father-daughter dance. The picture you see here is me wiping away tears from Kiley’s face as we get near the end of the song. It couldn’t have been any more special. I got so lucky, and there are a lot of people to thank. The Blonde Accountant put together a wonderful event and has shown so much love and support for this book project. I am truly blessed to be her husband; my daughters, Kiley (along with husband Mat) and Lexi have always been the lights of my life and I’m glad I got a chance to share it all with them; my mom was here from Illinois and I’m so thankful she got to see everything; my stepchildren, Kaitie and Kevin, were a tremendous help during the party and handled themselves like the fine young adults that they are becoming; my in-laws, Walt and Anne, drove back from their vacation at the shore so they could be part of it; Dan May and Tom Hampton are two of the most talented musicians and nicest guys and they really stepped up by allowing me to share the stage with them and add the soundtrack to my words; the folks at the Ambler Theater were tremendous; and my editor, Frank Quattrone, who always had faith in the book project, has been a stalwart supporter from the first chapter. To each and every one of you who came out, I can’t thank you enough. I hope you enjoy the book.

A manly man bus trip

I have to hand it the Men of La Salle, the dads’ group at La Salle High School: Those guys certainly know how to organize a manly man bus trip. Dave Lagner, the chief cook, bottle washer and grand poohbah, put together a great trip to Camden Yards in Baltimore on Sunday. The excursion included all the things needed for a manly man father-and-son day: luxury buses complete with DVD players and bathrooms

(an important aspect for guys); great seats, 12 rows from the field down the third-base line, to watch the visiting Oakland A’s take on the Baltimore Orioles; 72 degrees, blue skies and a slight breeze (not sure who Dave knows to get that pulled off but I suspect he may have dated Mother Nature in his younger days); and a post-game excursion to a manly man joint in the Inner Harbor called “Dick’s Last Resort,” a place that can only be described as “highly entertaining for cavemen,” where the fathers and sons consumed massive quantities of nachos, hot wings and ribs while being mercilessly insulted by the waiters. As a bonus, Game 1 of the second round of the Stanley Cup Playoffs was on the big screen during the chow down, and the Philadelphia Flyers scored in overtime to take a 4-3 win over the New Jersey Devils sending the LaSalle contingent into a frenzy of high-fives and flying spittle, otherwise known as more manly man stuff. By the way, that’s a picture of me with Dick — taken by my cohort for the day, Son of Blonde Accountant — outside the establishment after the meal. It appears by the looks on our faces that we both had loaded up on too many nachos. I’ve always enjoyed Camden Yards. It’s a beautiful ballpark and it features “Boog’s BBQ” out on the right field concourse in front of the distinctive warehouse. This is, of course, Boog Powell’s place — a former Orioles first baseman in the 1960s and 1970s who played on some pretty good Orioles teams — and as usual, Boog was perched on a stool near the barbecue pit greeting fans and signing autographs. I’ve seen Boog several times over the years, and there have been times when I thought, “Hey Boog, mix in a salad.” Boog has always been a large fellow, and in past years, it looked like he was eating more of the barbecue beef than he was selling. But this year, Boog has slimmed down considerably and he looks great. And he’s always friendly and accommodating to the fans. I had the “Big Boog Beef” sandwich, which is double the meat and indigestion. I was so full that three guys had to carry me from the right field concourse to my seat on the other side of the stadium near third base. The Phillies should offer that amenity to the overeaters in their stadium. Although many in our group were Phillies fans, most were root, root, rooting for the home team, and the Orioles delivered a walk-off win in the bottom of the ninth by scoring five runs, three of which came on a game-ending home run. It was my first Men of LaSalle father-son bus trip and Son of Blonde Accountant and I enjoyed it quite a bit. I can’t wait for next year’s trip and another day of manly man activities.

One more run at fun in the sun

Although I’m not normally one for awards shows, I did watch the 2012 Grammys from start to finish.
And I’m glad I did. For those of us who have been around for a while, the show offered great performances from some of rock’s biggest names, from Bruce Springsteen leading off the show to Paul McCartney closing the festivities.
But I tuned in for the 50-year reunion of all the surviving members of the Beach Boys. The band’s music — and more specifically the music of the group’s co-founder Brian Wilson — have played an important role throughout my life.
Essentially, the Beach Boys have been the foundation of the soundtrack of my life. So it was a personal pleasure for me to watch them reunite publicly for the first time in more than two decades on what was such a big stage for the music industry.
I’ve had the pleasure of interviewing nearly all of the surviving members — Brian Wilson, Mike Love, Al Jardine and Bruce Johnston — at one time or another in my career. They were all interesting and unique conversations in their own way.
As a matter of record, David Marks, who was one of the original Beach Boys performing on the band’s first four albums before quitting over financial and managerial issues in late 1963, is part of the 50-year reunion tour and was included in the Grammys appearance. It would be interesting to score an interview with him and get his take on the reunion.
And Bruce Johnston, while not one of the original members, joined the group in 1965, replacing none other than Glen Campbell, who was briefly with the group and was himself subbing for Brian Wilson, who had decided not to tour with the band anymore at that point.
Joining the Beach Boys tribute at the Grammys was Maroon 5, which did a credible job on the Beach Boys’ hit “Surfer Girl,” and “Foster the People,” which did likewise on “Wouldn’t It Be Nice.” There are those who didn’t think these other two bands were needed to sing Beach Boys songs in a Beach Boys tribute at the Grammys, but it didn’t matter much to me. The Beach Boys themselves and their performance of “Good Vibrations” was the main event.
There is supposed to be a new CD and tour scheduled around the 50th anniversary of the Beach Boys. The hope here is that they will perform here in Philly.
If so, I’ll be there for all the fun, fun, fun.

Tailgating with Larry the Cable Guy

Larry the Cable Guy knows weenies. As a cocktail weenie aficionado myself, I appreciate that.
Why, Larry even has his own recipe for something he calls “Beanie Weenie Casserole” that he says is sweeping the nation. I know all this because I asked him about it at Sunday’s Eagles game.
Dan Whitney — and his redneck-hillbilly character Larry the Cable Guy — were both in town as part of something called “A Better Way to Tailgate” challenge. Larry is pitching the heartburn-relief product Prilosec OTC and an online contest that gives tailgaters a chance to win tickets to the 2012 Super Bowl in Indianapolis.
I’m all for heartburn relief, but I’m more for the things that give one heartburn to start with, something like the Beanie Weenie Casserole.
That’s the really important news associated with Larry’s visit.
“I filled in for Regis one day on ‘Regis and Kelly’ and they wanted me to bring a recipe,” said Larry, standing out in the freezing cold at the Prilosec tailgate tent Sunday. “And the favorite thing my wife makes is ‘Beanie Weenie Casserole.’ It’s beans and weenies with barbecue sauce baked in a cornbread crust. And we call it the ‘Beanie Weenie Casserole.’ I tell everybody, though, you need to be careful because the last time I had it, my Glade plug-in started a carpet fire. It’s deadly. It ought to come with a side order of Prilosec OTC. But it’s an unbelievable recipe and it’s sweeping the nation.”
I’ll tell you what, that’s funny right there, I don’t care who you are.



Whether he’s in character as Larry or just being himself, Whitney is a hoot to hang with for a while. I got several minutes with him for a one-on-one interview, in which he answered my softball questions. (What, I was going to ask Larry the Cable Guy about how to solve cancer or world hunger? No, when one gets a chance to talk to Larry the Cable Guy, there has to be at least one professional journalistic question about farting.)
“I don’t have the walking farts as bad as my grandmother does,” said Larry. “You know when you get older it’s harder to keep that kind of stuff in. As a matter of fact, she’d be here right now but she’s in a lawsuit with Wal-Mart. She used to get her hair cut up there but they kept screwing up her sideburns. That’s why she’s not here. We sure do like her, though.”
I also found out that Dan and I — both Midwesterners; he from Nebraska — shared an affection for the Oakland Raiders teams of the 1970s. Of course, we thought it wise not to discuss it within earshot of the Eagles fans.
It was a kick talking to both Dan and Larry the Cable Guy. Both seem like guys you’d want to spend the afternoon with at a tailgate party. If it wasn’t so dadgummed cold on Sunday, I would have stayed longer. But the Eagles fans seemed to appreciate spending a little time with Larry and he in turn was fun and gracious with the fans.
When it came to the interview, I was able to “Git-R-Done!” without any problems and it was a hoot. As Larry would say, we “Got-R-Did!”

Stretch limousine on fire

In Catie Curtis’ newest CD titled, “Stretch Limousine on Fire,” there are these lines in the title track:

“How come the rich just keep on getting richer
while the rest of us are paying dues?
I try to keep the faith, but when I get the blues,
I think of that . . . stretch limousine on fire.”

It’s a catchy, happy tune with a contemporary message. (In an earlier verse, Curtis writes that “everyone got out alive” so the limo fire didn’t exactly hurt anyone other than maybe the well-to-do folks who were hoping to ride in it prior to the blaze.)
I always enjoy discovering a new singer-songwriter that I haven’t heard before, and Saturday night at World Café Live provided another opportunity to add to my list of favorite artists to come out of the Philly music scene. (I’m unofficially titling Saturday’s date night with The Blonde Accountant “Occupy World Café Live For A Few Hours, At Least Until The Cops Get There With The Pepper Spray.”)



Curtis is from Boston and has been around for a while now, but is new to The Blonde Accountant and me. She’s got a pleasant sound tied to compelling storytelling that makes for an enjoyable evening of music.
Her songs are mostly happy and she appears genuinely pleased up there on stage sharing them with the audience.
Another singer-songwriter, Meg Hutchinson, opened for Catie and I liked her music quite a bit as well.
I got a chance to briefly talk to Catie afterwards. She asked how we found out about the show and I answered that we try to keep an eye out for artists who perform in Philly and attend the shows of the ones we like. I had been on Catie’s website and listened to some of her stuff a few days before the show and based on that, I was pretty sure we would enjoy her music. I think she’d also be an interesting interview if I ever got the opportunity.
So add Catie Curtis to the list of storytellers like Dan May, Mutlu, Lizanne Knott, Carsie Blanton and Anj Granieri. Not only are they artists who are easy on the ears, I like to have their CDs in my car to keep me company.

Whoa-oh, China Grove!

When I was a sophomore in high school in central Illinois, we had this thing in our school called the “Leeway.” Essentially, it was a big hallway that connected the old part of the school with a newer addition.
I came from a pretty big high school — somewhere in the neighborhood of between 600 to 1,000 kids per class — so the Leeway was pretty wide and around 50 yards long. It had to accommodate a lot of students.
When we weren’t using it to get from class to class, we hung out in the Leeway. After eating lunch in the cafeteria, the kids would congregate in the Leeway, mostly because there wasn’t anyplace else to go, but also because we were allowed to have a juke box.



Two songs for a quarter. And I’m pretty sure that nearly every day of my sophomore year, I plopped a quarter in that juke box and punched in “China Grove” by the Doobie Brothers. (The other song was “My Maria” by B.W. Stevenson, remade two decades later by country stars Brooks & Dunn.)
It was 1975. And hanging out in the Leeway listening to that song reminds me of a special and happy time in my formative years.
So when the Doobie Brothers broke into “China Grove” during their encore Thursday night at the Keswick Theater in Glenside, PA — more than 35 years later — it was all I could do to not rush the stage. I’m not sure why I didn’t, except for maybe at this age, I figured I might trip and fall down the aisle and break a hip rushing the stage.
It was the first time I had seen the Doobie Brothers live, and I’ll tell you something, they haven’t lost a step. They played all the great classic Doobie Brothers songs and mixed is some songs off the new album, “World Gone Crazy,” which are just as good as the old stuff.
These guys like their guitars a lot, and they like to play them. Loud. The musicianship, showmanship and energy of a veteran group like the Doobie Brothers made for one fabulous show — one of the best I’ve ever seen. It had been a long time since I had come out of a concert with my ears ringing and my chest still thumping.
Original Doobies’ frontmen Tom Johnston and Patrick Simmons, as well as multi-talented John McFee, were surrounded by kick-tail musicians and performers. I had the opportunity to interview Johnston for a story to preview the show and enjoyed that quite a bit.
And ever since the concert, I’ve been talkin’ ’bout China Grove, whoa-oh-oh, whoa-oh China Grove.
I just wish that I would have rushed the stage for “China Grove.” Even if I had fallen and broken my hip, it would have made for a cool story about how it happened.

It's nice to be nice to the nice

The lasting impression I came away with after experiencing my first Penn State football game? Man, the Penn State people sure are nice, and gracious in victory.
I hadn’t been to a college football game as a fan for more than 25 years (as a working member of the press, I had been to a Temple game at The Linc in Philly a few years ago). During a summertime visit to Connecticut, I hooked up with Dick Turelli, a college baseball teammate of mine when we were at the University of Iowa in the early 1980s. When Dick mentioned that Iowa was playing at Penn State this year that put a plan in motion for us to meet for the weekend in Happy Valley last weekend.
And no wonder they call it Happy Valley. Everybody seems really happy. I don’t think it’s only the beer that makes them that way, they just seemed genuinely pleasant.
Despite sporting our Iowa black and gold, the Penn Staters wished us luck before the game, opened their tailgate parties to us, didn’t gloat when their team handed Iowa its hind end and then wished us a safe journey home.
In fact, nobody swore at us, spit at us, flipped us the bird or even laughed at Iowa’s poor effort. I got booed only three times — which in a crowd of 103,000 and change wasn’t bad. I’d like to think those guys just had some leftover boos from the night before that they didn’t get to use on the Phillies poor offensive effort and post-season elimination.



For their part, the Iowa folks always have traveled well. It’s about a 16-hour drive from Iowa City to State College, but Iowa people have stout systems and iron undershorts so distance didn’t appear to be a problem for those that we talked to.
We were amongst our own for only about an hour on Game Day at the “Hawkeye Huddle,” a pregame Iowafest at the Nittany Lion Inn. It turned out to be the only place we could escape the “We are . . . Penn State!” cheer.
At that event, Dick and I had hooked up with Steve Duncan, our assistant baseball coach when we were at Iowa. Dunc is retired now and working in the equipment room in the Iowa athletic department — and he’s connected. So much so that we got to ride the cheerleaders’ bus from the Nittany Lion Inn back to Beaver Stadium after the Hawkeye Huddle.
Thanks Dunc. There is never anything wrong with riding on the cheerleaders’ bus. We didn’t know it at the time, but that turned out to be about the only highlight of the game.
Penn State wasn’t even in the Big Ten conference when I played at Iowa, so I have no personal animosity toward the school or its teams. I wasn’t crazy about being packed like a sardine in the stadium’s upper deck or the dude who got sick and ralphed all over the back of a guy three seats down from me about five minutes before kickoff. And when one’s team is getting beat - the final was 13-3 - that lion’s roar sound that comes out of the public address system when Penn State does something good can be a bit tedious.
But I can’t complain about the hospitality. The way we were welcomed and treated, it was an impressive display of good sportsmanship by a large number of people.
Well done, Penn State. Allow me to offer you a complimentary cheer: “You are . . . Penn State!” Your team, your school and your fans are to be respected.

A tip of the cap to Lady Luck

Sometimes, it’s better to be lucky than good. That was certainly the case Saturday night at Citizens Bank Park.
By the sheer luck of the draw, my partial season ticket package included the Sept. 17 game against the St. Louis Cardinals. Certainly there is no way I could have anticipated back in March, when I received my season tickets, that Saturday’s game would end up being the night the Phillies clinched their fifth consecutive National League Eastern Division title.
It was the second title-clinching game that I have seen in person. In 1993, the Chicago White Sox, featuring Frank Thomas and Bo Jackson, clinched a division crown against the Seattle Mariners, featuring a young Ken Griffey Jr., in Chicago at what was called “new” Comiskey Park, which was then only three years old.



That one had a little more planning involved, although in the end, it was Lady Luck who served it up to me and my friend Chris Dettro.
An old school baseball fan, Chris was my running buddy back in Illinois in the 1990s. Neither of us could convince our womenfolk to join us on baseball excursions, but that was OK because it left more beer for us.
And neither of us were White Sox fans, we just enjoyed trying to be in the ballpark for big moments. (We would later scheme to be in the ballpark when Cal Ripken Jr. broke Lou Gehrig’s consecutive game streak in 1995. Unfortunately, we missed by one game and ended up in Cleveland at the game the day after the record was broken.)
For our White Sox ticket to be the clincher in 1993 though, we needed help from the Texas Rangers. We had purchased the tickets a few weeks in advance trying to predict when the clincher would be. They were $8 bleacher tickets, so if we were wrong, we would be out only $8.
The White Sox and Rangers were playing a doubleheader on Sunday and our tickets were for Monday evening. The White Sox needed to split that doubleheader to make Monday night the potential clincher.
It appeared early on that the White Sox were not going to cooperate. They won the first game of the twinbill and had their ace pitcher, Jack McDowell, throwing the second game. If the Sox won that game, the division title was theirs and Chris and I would have missed by one game.
Since we weren’t White Sox fans, it was easy to cheer against them in the second game. I was working at the newspaper that Sunday evening and we had the TV on watching the game as the Rangers prevailed. It was the only time I can remember cheering for the Texas Rangers to win anything.
Being in Chicago the next night for the clincher was pretty exciting. There hasn’t been a whole lot of winning baseball in Chicago over the past century, and the winning that has been done has been mostly by the White Sox.
The excitement in Philly on Saturday was a lot like that night in Chicago in 1993. Even though the good guys have won five division titles in a row, winning titles never gets old. Fortunately, 14-year-old Son of Blonde Accountant was with me and he got to see his first clincher. That alone is worth a tip of the cap to Lady Luck.

S-F football night all about community

One doesn’t have to like football to enjoy high school football night. That’s because in many towns, it’s about more than just football, it’s about community.
That was certainly evident last Friday night in Spring-Ford High School’s home opener against West Chester East. My kids have been, and still are, in the Spring-Ford school system, so I have been to some football games over the years.
The good guys won 63-12, but for me, that’s only part of the story. I’ve always enjoyed the atmosphere, the band, the cheerleaders, and the mascot. Spring-Ford’s mascot — Rowdy Ram — is particularly entertaining this year, interacting with fans, especially the younger children.



And I’ve always loved the band. My high school band in central Illinois was directed by Dr. Lawrence Fogelberg, father of the late singer-songwriter from the 1970s, Dan Fogelberg, and the inspiration of one of his greatest songs, “Leader of the Band.” So ya, we had a pretty good band.
Unfortunately, the Spring-Ford band didn’t perform a halftime routine for the first game, instead deferring to the visiting team’s band for that honor. But the S-F musicians did it up big and loud from their perch in the bleachers, so I got to enjoy a performance just the same. I am particularly fond of the tuba section.
The cheerleaders, of course, also help complete the experience, although I must admit, as a card-carrying member of the Dad of Daughters Club, I sometimes worry that the high-flying aerial routines will result in injury. But I’d have the same concern if I had a son in helmet and pads knocking heads on the field.
All in all, high school football night is a great way to get a relatively low-cost evening of entertainment. But more importantly, it provides a wonderful sense of community, the benefits of which one can’t put a price on.
Did I mention you should go out and see Rowdy Ram? The youngster in the suit is a hoot.

From the A's to the A-list

It wasn’t exactly Joe DiMaggio and Marilyn Monroe, but it was pretty close.
In the mid-1950s, Eddie Robinson was single, handsome, playing baseball for the New York Yankees, making a pretty good salary and dating Patti Page, the best-known and best-selling female singer of that era who just happened to be drop-dead gorgeous as well.
That must have been pretty heady stuff, huh Eddie?
“Ya, it was . . . for her,” deadpanned Robinson.
Coo-coo ca-choo, Mr. Robinson.
The man who spent 65 years in and around baseball as a player, coach, scout and executive spit in the eye of Hurricane Irene last weekend and traveled from his home in Texas to Hatboro/Horsham to promote his new book, “Lucky Me” at an event sponsored by the Hatboro-based Philadelphia Athletics Historical Society Saturday at the Days Inn in Horsham.
In my volunteer capacity as a member of the A’s Society board of commissioners, I get a chance to spend some time with the old ballplayers that we have for such events. For this one, I was stationed at the autograph table with Mr. Robinson as he signed books, Heartland statues of his likeness and other memorabilia for fans who braved the pre-Irene grayness in the skies to attend.
Robinson, who will be 91 in December, was a member of the 1948 World Champion Cleveland Indians. He played for the Philadelphia A’s for just one season in 1953, coming to Philadelphia in a trade that sent popular A’s first baseman Ferris Fain, who was coming off two successive American League batting titles in 1951 and 1952, to the Chicago White Sox.
It wasn’t a popular trade in Philadelphia. But Robinson had a pretty good season in 1953, hitting 22 home runs and driving in 102 runs, good enough to be named an American League All Star that year. He was traded to the Yankees after that one season with the A’s.

Robinson is still an opposing presence, even at age 90, and sharp as a tack. Like many players of that era, he has wonderful penmanship and gives a really nice autograph to fans.
During the course of the four hours or so I spent with him, he was tremendous not only with the fans, but was gracious with the non-profit A’s Society, signing several items that can be sold at the shop and museum located at 6 York Road in Hatboro. Check out the website at www.philadelphiaathletics.org.
I enjoyed listening to his baseball stories, and of course, wanted to know about his time with Patti Page. They dated for about a year, he said, but both went on to marry and have families with other spouses.
I have had many opportunities over the years to do things and meet some interesting people. Those experiences continue to fascinate me, and meeting and spending time with Eddie Robinson was another one of those instances.

'Love Train' stops in Philly

It was around 11:30 p.m. Wednesday when The O’Jays broke into one of the group’s biggest hits, “Love Train.” Given the lateness of the concert, a half hour later and that song could have easily turned into “Midnight Train to Georgia” for those of us who were still awake at that hour.
But that took nothing away from a show that served up a good portion of “Philly soul” as we knew it in the 1970s, with a dose of Motown worked in for good measure Wednesday at the Mann Center for the Performing Arts in Philadelphia.
The O’Jays — original members Walter Williams Sr. and Eddie Levert Sr. along with Eric Grant, who joined the trio in 1997 — were in on the ground floor of the “Philadelphia Sound,” working with Philly’s legendary songwriting and production team of Kenny Gamble and Leon Huff. In addition to “Love Train,” the group — elected to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2005 — produced several hits in its heyday, including “Back Stabbers,” For the Love of Money” and “I Love Music,” all of which they sang Wednesday evening.
Joining The O’Jays at The Mann were The Stylistics — a Philly group that produced ’70s hits like “Betcha By Golly, Wow,” “You Are Everything” and “You Make Me Feel Brand New” — and The Four Tops, which produced “I Can’t Help Myself” and “It’s The Same Old Song” for Berry Gordy Jr. at Motown in the 1960s.
These days, The Stylistics still have original members Herbie Murrell and Airrion Love while the only surviving founding member of The Four Tops is Abdul “Duke” Fakir, who still performs with the group.
The Mann show featured all the hits — and all the choreographed dancing and matching suits for all three groups. Not only it is great music, but it’s great dancing and showmanship as well. I love that stuff. Over the years, that’s been a tried and true formula for these groups, which makes for an enjoyable evening of entertainment for concertgoers.
I was a big fan of The Stylistics in the 1970s growing up in central Illinois. By the late 1970s, I had become a big fan of The O’Jays. Turns out I was a big fan of the Philly Sound before I even knew there was such a thing. I just thought it was the “Illinois Sound.” Too much time spent in and around cornfields at that time to know the ways of the world, I guess. And Wednesday was the first opportunity for me to see both groups live.
I also got a kick out of watching the crowd for this show. Some people treated it as a big night out on the town, dressing in fancy evening duds, while others opted for shorts and t-shirts. I was among those in shorts, but I did put on a button-down collared shirt so I didn’t look quite as much like I just walked off the beach.
Everybody should take the opportunity to hear The O’Jays sing “Love Train” in concert. It’s just one of those songs that will live forever.
I’m glad I finally got that chance.

Kruk, Williams solidify 'character' personas

Remember those two old guy muppets on “The Muppet Show” — their names are Statler and Waldorf — who heckled the rest of the cast from the balcony, then yukked it up at their own jokes?
Well, meet the modern-day Statler and Waldorf — Mitch Williams and John Kruk, mainstays of the 1993 Philadelphia Phillies squad that lost the World Series to the Toronto Blue Jays when Williams gave up a series-ending home run to Joe Carter. (Boo-boo, hiss-hiss.)



Both are in town for the Phillies Alumni Weekend, which will include Kruk’s induction into the team’s Wall of Fame. And both appeared Thursday at the alumni luncheon at the stadium and showed once again why they are beloved in this city.
Put microphones in front of these two, sit back and prepare to be entertained. They’ve known each other for a long time. Both talk baseball for a living now — Kruk for ESPN’s “Baseball Tonight” and Williams for MLB Network — and both are real characters.
Kruk in particular has that “grumpy old guy” thing down, even though he’s only 50 years old. You expect him to shout, “Hey you kids, get off my lawn!” at any moment.
During their playing careers, neither Kruk nor Williams was all that fond of answering questions from reporters. But I happened to be standing next to former Phillies pitcher Tommy Greene while Kruk and Williams answered questions from the audience during that part of the festivities.
“Krukky doesn’t look like he’s enjoying this very much,” I said.
“Nah, that’s just him. He’s a Scrooge,” said Greene.
Williams, younger at 46, has gone from being the goat of the 1993 World Series to finding a comfortable place in the hearts of Phillies fans. And it’s because he always took full responsibility for throwing the wrong pitch at the wrong time to the wrong guy.
“Joe Carter is one of those rare right-handed hitters who likes the ball down and in,” Williams told the crowd. “I knew that, so that pitch was supposed to be up and away.”
“Missed by just a little bit, huh?” Kruk added.
Har-har-hardy-har-har. These guys should add a drummer to their act just for the rim shots.
Blue collar guys for a blue collar city. They should never have to buy another beer in this town for as long as they live.

A Connecticut Yankee road trip

The road to Hartford, CT — where Younger Daughter was checking out the University of Hartford in a college visit — took a short detour to New York recently because when I’m driving, we’re always looking for a ballgame somewhere along the route.

Actually, I had purchased tickets for a Yankees day game against the Seattle Mariners back in March when tickets first went on sale having no idea what direction life would be taking in July. Stopping in New York on the way to Hartford turned out to make sense from a travel standpoint in this instance.
Our seats in Yankee Stadium ended up being a few rows behind and a few seats over from where Derek Jeter’s 3,000th hit landed in the leftfield bleachers a few weeks ago. The Yankees’ captain was the first Yankee to reach 3,000 career hits — not Ruth, not Gehrig, not DiMaggio, not Mantle. So Jeter’s accomplishment is a pretty big deal for a franchise that’s experienced a lot of pretty big deals in its existence.
While we didn’t see that type of history, we were there on a day when something of note did happen: the Mariners broke a 17-game losing streak by beating the Yankees that afternoon. I guess all the Mariners needed was for Younger Daughter and I to show up for a game. I’m sure the Yankees appreciated our role in their loss.
We got out of New York ahead of the evening rush hour — driving in New York is never easy no matter what time of the day it is — and got to Hartford in relatively uneventful fashion.

I say uneventful except for the traffic in Connecticut. I’ve never driven in that state where traffic just isn’t all gummed up for no apparent reason whatsoever. I expect traffic in Philly and New York. I do not expect it in Middleofnowhere, CT.
The University of Hartford tour kicked off Day 2 of the trip. Notable UHART graduates include the singer Dionne Warwick and Houston Astros retired first baseman Jeff Bagwell. It was a nice tour and a nice campus, but I’m trying to not exercise any undue influence on Younger Daughter’s choice of a college. My sense from her reaction is that UHART is not her No. 1 choice.
The highlight of the day for old Dad — considering that UHART costs about $43,000 a year to attend — was a visit to the much more affordable Mark Twain house in Hartford, which only costs $16 per person to tour.
Although no photos or video were allowed inside the home, it’s an absolutely beautiful place. As you undoubtedly know, Twain, the pen name for Samuel Langhorne Clemens, is considered the greatest American humorist of his age.
As a writer of substantially less note than Mr. Twain, I thought it was very cool to stand in the same room where Twain penned some of his greatest works — “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer,” “The Prince and the Pauper,” “Life on the Mississippi,” “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn” and “A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court.” Hopefully, a little of that karma rubbed off on me.
A couple of days that included visits to Yankee Stadium and the Mark Twain house, two iconic U.S. sites, and the most important aspect of all was that I got to spend some quality time with my daughter. And really, it doesn’t get any better than that.

Right field 'Pence-syl-mania'

As part of the right field contingent at Citizens Bank Ballpark — I’ve had the same seats in my season ticket package since the ballpark was built — it was cool to be there Saturday night to welcome Hunter Pence in his debut as the Phillies new right fielder.
It was exciting to be part of the crowd that reacted to Pence’s arrival. When he came out before the game to loosen up, everybody went crazy-go-nuts. When he trotted out to his position with the other Phillies to start the game, everybody stood and applauded him again. When he was introduced for his first at-bat as a Phillie — which came on the heels of a Ryan Howard home run to lead off the second inning that already had the crowd charged up — it was more of the same.



From my vantage point, it looked like Pence enjoyed the whole experience, a fact he confirmed the next day in media accounts. “The crowd gave me chills,” he said.
He reacted to the attention by waving to the faithful, tipping his cap a couple of times and turning to acknowledge the fans several times during the game.
Pence wears his pants high, to show a lot of red sock. It’s a good look for him. With apologies to Roy Halladay, my sense is that having Pence on this team is going to make it even more funner than it already is.

Happy together . . . and forever after

My folks had quite a record collection when I was a kid in 1960s. Much if it was hip for its time — The Beatles, The Beach Boys, Elvis and the like. Mostly though, they seemed to favor music that featured harmonies.
One album I absolutely wore out as a kid was “Insight Out” by The Association. It featured two wonderful songs and big hits — “Windy,” which reached No. 1 in 1967 and “Never My Love,” which climbed to No. 2 that same year.
The Association was part of the 2011 Happy Together Tour that stopped at the Keswick Theater last week; I was thrilled to get a chance to hear a band that I so fondly remembered from my youth.
There are three current members of The Association who performed on the “Insight Out” album: Larry Ramos, Russ Giguere and Jim Yester. They are pictured as young men on the album cover.
I had interviewed Larry Ramos to preview the Keswick show and got quite a kick listening to him talk about the music of the 1960s.

The copy of “Insight Out” that my folks had is long gone, but I found another original copy of the album at a record store in Chestnut Hill a few weeks before the show. I was hoping to get a chance to meet The Association guys and have them sign my album.
Fortunately, I got to do just that. But it almost didn’t happen.
I shared the Happy Together concert with Older Daughter, which was lucky for me. She was riding shotgun during the autograph-getting portion after the show. I had already secured the signatures of Giguere and Yester on the album cover when Ramos came out for the meet-and-greet. I was so excited to meet him that I forgot to ask him to sign the album. I’m getting older, too, I guess.
“Dad, the album!” said Older Daughter, saving the day. The picture that accompanies this item shows Ramos completing the Association autograph trifecta for me, in a photo taken by Older Daughter.
My daughter, whose big-deal music group is N’SYNC, was familiar with only a few of the songs from the Happy Together show, which also included appearances by The Buckinghams (“Kind of a Drag”); The Grass Roots (“Midnight Confessions”); Mark Lindsay of Paul Revere and the Raiders (“Kicks”); and The Turtles (“Happy Together”).
In addition to meeting the guys from The Association, we also got to meet Carl Giammarese of the Buckinghams and Howard Kaylan of The Turtles and get their signatures.
When I introduced Kaylan to Older Daughter, he said, “You should thank your father for introducing you to good music.”
With all due respect to N’SYNC, Kaylan is right. There was some great, great music in the 1960s. Older Daughter and I enjoyed seeing all those talented musicians whose songs have stayed with me all these years.
You might say we were happy together.

A little backstage magic

Put together a guy who asks questions for a living with a guy who likes to tell stories and it’s pretty easy to kill an hour.
The difference this time was the guy doing the talking – Joe Butler of the Lovin’ Spoonful – and the stories he was sharing were about making music in the 1960s and included names like Brian Wilson, Ed Sullivan and legendary record producer Phil Spector.
That makes it a really unique and special way to kill an hour.
That’s just what happened Friday night at the Sellersville Theater 1894 between two performances by the Lovin’ Spoonful.
The band – whose original members included two rockers from Long Island, Butler and Steve Boone, who got together with two folk musicians from Greenwich Village, John Sebastian and Zal Yanovsky – hit it big in the mid-1960s with hits like “Do You Believe in Magic,” “Daydream,” “You Didn’t Have to be So Nice,” “Nashville Cats” and “Summer in the City.” The group was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2000.
I had interviewed Butler to preview the shows. It was a fun interview, and on the night of the performances, The Blonde Accountant and I got to go into the green room and meet Butler and other band members, including Jerry Yester, who played piano on “Do You Believe in Magic” in 1965 and joined the band full-time in 1967.
Butler and Yester – the brother of Jim Yester of another 60s group, The Association – are just two happy and friendly guys who have been making music for more than 40 years. We sat there and listened as they told story after story about their musical journeys. Butler talked about meeting Ed Sullivan for the first time. Yester talked about being in an adjoining studio when Brian Wilson was recording the famous “Pet Sounds” album.
Of course, it was the 60s and these guys were young rock and rollers, so there were some, uh . . . illicit substance references sprinkled here and there into some of the stories.



The only band member we didn’t get to meet was Steve Boone, one of the original four, who Butler said was taking a nap between shows. Hey, these guys aren’t spring chickens anymore so old guy jokes appeared to be fair game as well.
At one point, Butler looked at me and said, “I better quit talking, I’m starting to get hoarse.” And then he proceeded to tell stories for another half hour.
Butler, Yester and I even goofed around for the photo that accompanies this piece. I think Yester is trying to give me the bunny ears. How incredibly silly and funny is that for our age group? My kind of guys, these two.
It was a fascinating and entertaining evening – oh and the show was great, too – and I appreciate having had the opportunity to get a peek behind the curtain that most fans don’t get a chance to experience.
Hey, I believe in magic.

Chasing Straight No Chaser

We’ve been wanting to see the a cappella group Straight No Chaser for quite a while now and we finally got the chance July 3 at Penn’s Landing.
The group of 10 college buddies from Indiana burst onto the scene a few years ago having been signed to a record deal on the strength of a YouTube video of their act that was seen by a recording executive.



They’re currently in the early stages of a two-month gig at Harrah’s Resort in Atlantic City. That turned out to be gravy for The Blonde Accountant and I because a last-minute cancellation in the lineup for the Fourth of July weekend Fam Jams event opened up a spot for Straight No Chaser.
If you haven’t been to a show at Penn’s Landing, the seating area there is essentially a bunch of cement steps in front of the stage. It can accommodate a couple of hundred people.
Although one can bring along a lawn chair, most folks just park it on the steps. Unfortunately at my age, getting up off cement steps requires a large crane after I’ve been sitting for a while.
Still, that did nothing to hamper our enthusiasm for Straight No Chaser. As a bonus, some of the Straight No Chaser wives plopped down right beside me for the show and I exchanged some brief chit-chat with one of them. After the show, the wives asked me to take a picture of the four of them, and I only botched the first attempt. Not bad for as guy who gets paid to take pictures on occasion.
I mentioned to one wife that since SNC is so good at harmonies, the group ought to include a Beach Boys song in its show, for old guys like me.
Based on SNC Wife’s response — which I didn’t entirely hear because in addition to having trouble getting up off the cement, my ears aren’t so good — I'm guessing the group does “California Girls” with a twist. The guys substitute the words “Jersey girls” for “California girls.”
We plan to head for AyCee in August to see a SNC show. I assume I will not have to sit on cement steps at Harrah’s.

Family + community = FABulous

Dance like nobody is watching.
That’s what kids and adults alike were doing Wednesday evening at the kickoff event of the Doylestown Community Sounds of Summer 2011, which featured the band Almost FAB performing songs the Beatles made famous.

It’s hard to go wrong with family, community and Beatles songs, all under a perfect sky. For me, it was the perfect end to a difficult day at work.
I love these kinds of community events, and this one drew a pretty big crowd. It was presented by the Doylestown Community Performing Arts Council in cooperation with Doylestown Township and the borough.
Little kids, whose parents in some cases weren’t even born yet when the Beatles were kicking out hits, literally gravitated toward the stage and the almost-magnetlike attraction of Almost FAB.
And really, did the Beatles ever make a bad song? Hit after hit after hit. And Almost FAB – billed not as a Beatles lookalike band but a group of “FABulous musicians” who bring more than “150 years of combined studying and performing to the stage” – do a great job with the songs.
For the rest of the summer schedule of music, go to http://www.doylestownpa.org/P&R/SoundsofSummer.htm.
With apologies to the Beatles, for this type of family and community event, I ain’t got nothing but love, babe . . . eight days a week.

Philly memories of the A's

It was a big weekend for the Philadelphia Athletics Historical Society. That’s because the American League Oakland Athletics were in town to play Phillies in an interleague three-game series.

The legendary Connie Mack owned and managed the Philadelphia A’s for many years, including in the team’s heyday of late 1920s and early 1930s. It shared Shibe Park — later renamed Connie Mack Stadium — with the Phillies until 1954, when the A’s were sold and moved to Kansas City. After 13 mostly uneventful seasons there, the ballclub moved to Oakland for the 1968 and has been there ever since.
The A’s Historical Society — I am proud to be on its board of commissioners — has operated a museum and gift shop for years at 6 York Road in Hatboro (www.philadelphiaathletics.org).
Since the Oakland A’s were in town, the Phillies invited the A’s Society to participate in Sunday’s game. Longtime Ambler resident Bobby Shantz, who was the American League Most Valuable Player in 1952 as a pitcher for the Philadelphia A’s, threw out the first pitch before Sunday’s game. Ruth Mack Clark, 97-year-old daughter of Connie Mack, also attended Sunday’s game.
Along with other volunteers, I was manning the A’s Society table in Ashburn Alley on Sunday. A lot of folks stopped by to look at the items on display and to share stories about fathers and grandfathers and their connections to the Philadelphia A’s.
I really enjoyed hearing all the wonderful stories. It’s too bad the A’s couldn’t draw enough fans back in the 1950s to remain in Philadelphia. With interleague play, I think it would be a pretty fun rivalry for the fans now.