Keeping Perspective

In the Grand Scheme of Things............What does it Matter

http://www.rense.com/general72/size.htm

It's Not the Destination, but the Journey

"Alex and Petes Excellent Adventure"


This story is absolutely true every word of it. It has some very interesting twists and it may seem like it's getting off track but it all pulls together in the end you'll see.
I've been a Bruce Springsteen Fan since I first heard "Greetings From Asbury Park NJ" way back in 1973 in my dads pizza shop I was turned on by our dishwasher who brought the "Greetings from Asbury Park" album into work one night and said to me "Hey check out this album this guy is from Jersey and he's pretty good."
"Spirit in the Night" captivated me with it's jazzy and lyrical groove, then came "Wild & Innocent "4th of July, Asbury Park (Sandy) and
"Kitty's Back" made me do a double take but the juice really didn't kick in until the "Born to Run" album and tour in '75, and by the time "Darkness" came out I was a bonafide Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band "Stoney"
I started taking weekend trips to Asbury Park and Longbranch, hanging out with some friends I had in
Red Bank NJ. My girl Karen (now my wife) and I even caught a BITUSA rehearsal one night at Clarences Clemons "Big Mans West Club" in Redbank NJ. but thats another story for another time.

Anyway jump to 1984, Bruce is bigger than ever at the height of his career his show without exageration is "THE Hottest Ticket in the World".
I had caught a show at the Vet in Philly during the summer of the Born in the USA tour, the show was great but typically I was in the nosebleed section 700 level but hey I was there and I was happy. / Then...stay with me now, In December of '84 my friend Pete and I decided to make the drive from Philly to Dallas TX. just to visit Dominic another friend of ours. I had the trip all planned out how long it would take us to drive from point A to point B etc.. As well as our ETA.....lots of planning went into this trip...heh heh
Well Pete had asked me to tape an album by John Prine so that we could listen to it on our drive down
(pete loves john prine). I never taped the album and Pete got pissed but so what he'll get over it right.
So here we are on our way and we were hardly 2 hours into our excursion when we pulled into a rest stop on the turnpike in Harrisburg PA for coffee when Pete who is driving my car goes and locks the keys and it took 2 hours to get the door open in the December cold and so here I am pissed off that not only is this a drag but my planned schedule and our ETA are totally blown to hell.(as if it really mattered)some crackhead came up to us and noticing our plight offered to help, it seemd that he was speeding his face off, he found an empty cola can laying in the parking lot and somehow he cut a notch into it he fastened it to the coat hanger we were using and shoved it down into the door and bing,bang, boom,zippity doo dah,1,2,3 whatever you want to call it just like that the door was open and we were back on our way.

Ok so we're now back on our way no more schedule to stick to and all is going well and we get up into those Blue Ridge and Smokey Mountains of Tennessee and Nothing is coming in on the radio and no more tapes to listen to especially not John Prine as Pete keeps reminding me, so we're just driving without any jams for a few hours, then I come upon a road sign "Nashville 50 Miles" I figure hey we're coming back into civilization and I turn on the radio and at just that very moment I heard the very last note of a guitar followed by the DJ saying
"And that was Bruce Springsteen and after the show tonight we're going to play an hour of Bruce and the New Album etc..."
"Yo Pete you awake dude?" "did you hear that ? Bruce must be playing Nashville tonite oh man we gotta go !" Petes like "Your nuts dude there aint no way we're gonna get near that concert !"...
"Look Pete theres a Shell station at the next exit I'm gonna go ask someone there we need gas anyway" I pull into the Shell station and I ask the kid working there "Hey dude is Bruce Springsteen playing Nashville tonight?" and the guy says " Well actually he's playing MTSU" I say " What's MTSU and where is it ?" the guy says "It's Middle Tennessee State University and it's about 50 miles back east in Murfreesboro but I'll tell ya this buddy the concert is "SOLD OUT" there aint No Way your gettin in ! "

I asked the guy " how do you get there? " and he laughed and gave me directions
Now understand that it is 6:30 pm and the show is supposed to begin at 7:30 pm and I've got no tickets and 50 miles to cover and I don't know where the hell I am. There was a pay phone in the parking lot of the Shell ( and it only cost a dime which was interesting because at that time all pay phones had been upgraded to a quarter ) I called information and ask for the number to MTSU, so I drop my dime and I call MTSU and the conversation went almost exactly like this........

Operator: " Hello MTSU" (someone actually answered the phone 50 miles away on a dime at 6:30pm on a Sunday night)

Me: "Hello operator are there any tickets available for the show tonight?"

Operator: "I'm sorry but the show is SOLD OUT"

Me:"Aww c'mon operator is there anyway at all I can get tickets?"

Operator: "I'm sorry sir but the show is SOLD OUT there are no tickets available any longer"

Me: "operator you got to hook me up somehow please" (for some strange reason "NO was just not an acceptable answer for me that night)

Operator: "Well sir I can patch you through to the Box Office if it will make you happy but they're going to tell you that the concert is "SOLD OUT" and they can't help you either"

Me: "Yes it would make me very happy to speak with the Box Office operator thank you very much"

Operator: "OK Please Hold for transfer"

BO: "Hello Box Office"

Me: "Hello operator are there any tickets available for the show tonight ?"

Operator: "I'm sorry but the show is SOLD OUT"

Me:"Aww c'mon operator is there anyway at all I can get tickets ?"

Operator: "I'm sorry sir but the show is SOLD OUT there are no tickets available any longer"

Me: "operator you got to hook me up somehow please" (again the word "NO" was just not happening that night)

Operator: "Well sir the only thing that I can tell you is that if you get here at show time and you come to the
"Will Call" window and ask for tickets if there are any tickets available then you can have them"

Me: "Thank You, Thank You operator Thank You"

"Lets go Pete we're on our way to the show dude"
Pete: "you've lost it dude !" "You want to backtrack 50 miles and there aint a snowballs chance that we're gettin in" I knew that Petes logic was actually correct but I didn't give it any weight because in my mind the logic didn't matter I was on a "Mission"..... "A Mission from God".
Somehow we found our way to the arena and it was only 7:45 pm, we walked up to the "Will Call" window and I say to the girl "Yes two tickets please" she hands me 2 tickets and says "that'll be $16.00 each please"
(we got the "Student" discount) Oh My God what were the chances and get this we look at our tickets and it's "ROW 2" Floor needless to say we are freaking the hell out what could possibly top this "Nothing" that's what just "Nothing", Nothing at all could top this, I've never had seats any better than the 300 level anywhere for anything

Pete and I close to peeing our pants with excitement we make it to our seats up front in row friggin' "2" when the guy directly front of us in row 1(actually he was directly in front of Pete ) gets up to make his way out of the row just before the show starts and Pete jumps up and shouts at the guy "JOHN PRINE"
"Oh my God it's John Prine" John Prine, I can't believe it , it's you it's John Prine"
It actually was John Prine sitting directly in front of us and he says "Excuse me for a minute fellas I need to go take a piss I'll be right back" When he came back we talked for about 20 minutes before the show started he signed autographs for us on a discarded popcorn box and he said that he was going to try to get backstage after the show to talk with Bruce..... I tried not to act like an ass but I almost was begging him to take me with him... but I let it go.... he was kind enough to converse with us before and after the show...... the Show was of course Terrific

After the show as it was letting out Pete and I got to talking with some people and we told them that we were from New Jersey then they told others and soon enough Pete and I had a small group of people around us asking If we knew Bruce and the band and whats it like to hang out at the "Stone Pony" and all, it was so funny Pete and I are making up stuff and I was embelishing on the fact that I had actually met Clarence Clemens (yes I did) we were like"mini celebrities" for a moment just because we happened to be from "Jersey" it was such a laugh.

I couldn't have gotten those seats from Silvio Dante himself / the circumstances that got us there are beyond belief and all understanding.... I mean talk about Serendipity, I've given it thought many times and I always come to the same answer and that is "IF" Pete had not locked the keys in the car for two hours back there in Harrisburg, PA. then we wouldn't have been where we were when I turned that car radio on to hear the last guitar note of Bruce's guitar and that DJ say those magic words that put the ball in motion... (screw me and my itinerary...ETA crap) and WHY? I ask myself would I NOT take NO Tickets or SOLD OUT for an answer and then just be on my way? WHY? to borrow a phrase " What long strange trip it's been" The trip to Dallas was totally anti-climactic and a bit of a drag...it actually sucked, nothing could bring us down from that high.....
That night I found that old adage is so true "It's Not the Destination, but the Journey" Although we did go to Graceland on our return trip and paid our respects to the King..... Like I said before I couldn't have scored those tickets and seats from Silvio Dante himself ... there was some sort of higher power pulling the strings that night and I'd just like to say
"Thank You" Who ever You are.....It was a Blast"

Catfish & Tomatoes

It was in the summer of 1965, a beautiful day in July there was no humidity, just a sweet easy pulse to this summer day.
My brother Jerry and I were picked up by Grandpop early in the morning about 9:00, I suppose it was just to give Mom a break, with five kids and one being an infant, she had no car or even a drivers license, always stuck in the house with her never ending chores.
Dad was a steelworker at the time and he was at work building bridges we were told,
this conjured up images in my mind of a man with the superhuman ability to singlehandedly construct huge massive steel structures that span rivers and valleys just like the one over by grandpops house, as a matter of fact that bridge was the one that dad had built just for grandpop. I suppose that’s why we had called it “grandpops bridge”.


Well as we got on the road with gramps, first he went over to see some fella, a friend of his who had a garage where he worked on cars, gramps steered his big buick up to the front of the garage and tooted the horn out of the garage came a short fat man he greeted grandpop in front of that big blue buick. The man pulled a notepad out of one pocket and a wad of cash out of the other grandpop gave the guy a couple of bucks and the guy wrote something down on the notepad they shared a laugh and shook hands, I was watching this transaction as the Beatles “Yesterday” began to play on the radio grandpop gets back into the car and were on our way down the road. Now grandpop was the quintessential Archie Bunker prototype and at eight years old I knew this, I also knew that grandpop had disliked the Beatles long haired hippies he called them it was a generational thing nothing personal just not his style. So as the song “Yesterday” played with its melancholy undertone enough to move the hardest of hearts I asked “hey Grandpop do you like this song?” “Yeah it’s nice” he replied “This is the Beatles!” I said but what I really was telling him was “hey look grandpop my generation has something to offer the world” here is a song by a group of guys that you don’t care for but their experience is as human as yours! At my young age I was trying to bridge that generation gap and make a connection with a side of him that he rarely showed; he was always so stoic and reserved, not one for displaying too much emotion and when he said “yeah its nice” I knew that my grandpop was made of flesh and blood with a man with a heart.

We went home to grandpops house and grandmom was there she gave us a hug and a kiss, some gingersnaps and a glass of milk, then we went off again with Gramps down to Mill Street in town; now Mill Street was always a semi big deal because that’s where the action was, it was the business district of downtown Bristol there was more hustle and bustle going on there than there was back in lazy ‘ol Levittown we went to the bank and got our lollipops then back home.
Grandpop said in his not so excited voice “ya’s wanna go fishin?” “Yeah grandpop let’s go fishin Jerry and I replied in sync. so we went out to the back yard and dug up some worms and we walked across the street to the river where grandpop baited our hooks and showed us how to cast our lines . Things were kinda mundane and boring there was no excitement waiting to catch a fish so Jerry and I threw stones in the water and we kept asking Grandpop all kinds of silly questions that I’m sure we were getting on his nerves which prompted him to tell us the age old reply “Quit talkin’ so much your scaring the fish away”! “Oh OK grandpop!” Then suddenly a tug on my line and then another even harder this time “ I got one, I got one”! I yelled I don’t think Gramps believed me at first but then he took my pole from me and he began to reel it in as the fish was coming ashore he handed the pole back to me and told me to “bring ‘eem in “which is just what I did this was awesome my first fish and it was a beauty. “You just caught supper” said grandpop as he took the hook out of the fishes mouth and wrapped up our gear, I remember looking at him and thinking “You’ve got to be kidding”“ I’m having this baby stuffed and mounted”
“Lets go show Grandmom” we walked back across the street to the back of the yard and He called Grandmom outside to see my catch .I was feeling really proud of my new found fame as the family’s ace fishermen not giving a second thought to what my brother Jerry must have felt having to watch me gloat.
Grandpop took a yardstick to measure it, the fish was about 18 inches in length and it weighed about a pound and a half or better, He called it a “CHANNEL CAT” this was no ordinary catfish this was a “CHANNEL CAT”a very special kind of catfish, elusive and one that only lives at the very deepest depths of the river; only a masterfully skilled fisherman could possibly make this kind of catch and “I WAS HE”. As I was admiring my spectacular catch Grandpop walked away for a moment and when he returned he had in his hand a hammer, a nail, and a plyers, as I was confounded by this He took the fish and he held it up to a tree in the back yard He then drove that nail straight through the fishes head he might as well have drove it right through my heart. “Grandpop!” “What are you doing?” I screamed.
“I’m going to skin this fish and we’re going to have him for supper!” He replied and then he took the plyers and his pocketknife as he cut back the skin of the fish with the knife he pulled the skin off with the plyers, then he cut open the belly of the fish devoiding it of all it's guts, all of this to my horror as I was expressing my dissatisfaction to what he was doing he began to laugh while doing it; in what I construed at the time to be a laugh of sadistic pleasure at the crucifixion of my prized fish, my masterful catch, my trophy
(Actually I’m sure that he was laughing at my reaction to this murderous act )
I watched him with utter contempt but not ever challenging his authority.
And then to my shock my brother Jerry says “Hey Grandpop can I help you ?” at skinning it that is. “Sure” grandpop told him. Jerry knew I was puffed up gloating and now he wanted to join Grandpop in this crime so as to strip me of my prize. I couldn’t take it anymore as I left the two criminals I brokenheartedly walked out towards the front of the house, and just as I got there a huge truck came barreling down Radcliffe Street with a load of tomatoes from KINGS Farm I presume. The truck was speeding and it hit a bump in the road just in front of the house when three bushel baskets of tomatoes fell off the back of the truck and spilled out onto the road, the truck kept going. “Grandpop, Grandpop I yelled as He and Jerry came running around to see the bounty of delight laying upon the roadway
Grandpop knew just what to do, He walked out into the middle of the road and he held up his hands stopping traffic in both directions, as he had his two second generation Italian tomato pickers gather up the bounty from the road; as I was picking up these tomatoes I remember two simultameous but different thoughts. One was the awesome power of my grandpop that he could stop traffic with his bare hands and he wasn’t even a cop
the other thought or rather emotion was the embarrassment I felt as I was picking up spilled tomatoes while all of these people in their stopped cars had to wait for us to finish.

By now grandmom was out in front of the house in her apron watching us and anxiously waiting for these tomatoes it was about 3:00 in the afternoon and it was time to get supper going When we had finished grandpop took the catfish and washed it down with the garden hose, he brought it inside as grandmom was out back picking out her choice of tomatoes, after she had made her selection she walked over to a small garden and asked me to help her pick some mint and sweet basil that she had growing there.
Grandmom went back into the house with her ingredients , grandpop, brother Jerry and I washed down the rest of those tomatoes, as grandmom was in the kitchen preparing supper. Grandpop took a small saw from the garage and we all went out to the front of the house where he began sawing some branches off of a tree, as Jerry and I watched him a robin began attacking my brother Jerry repeatedly diving and pecking at him sending him running for cover. I thought
“this serves you right for helping grandpop kill my fish and when he’s finished with you it’s going to be grandpops turn, this is instant karma, God is getting you back now you know how it feels to be tortured.". But Grandpop said that the robin didn’t like the red baseball cap that Jerry was wearing, and to this day I have never again seen my brother Jerry wearing a red baseball cap, nor have I seen him in the company of robins.

After some time had passed Aunt Rachel and Aunt Helen came home from work and grandmom called us into the house to eat supper.
Ahh pan fried catfish smotherd in fresh tomatoes sauteed with butter garlic peppermint and basil. Eating it didn’t bother me at all, it was delicious!
My Grandmom was a saint if ever there was one and if she thought it was OK to cook the fish then it must have been the right thing to do. That’s why it didn’t bother me eating it, as a matter of fact I wanted seconds but there wasn’t enough left over.

Moral of this story is this:
“Grandpop had a heart and soul, he had the knowledge and skill to fillet a catfish, no guts,no gills Pick up tomatoes that a farm truck spilled give it all to grandma to make one hell of a meal.
this was just a day in the life of two suburban 2nd generation Italian American kids.
My grandparents and my parents too; they were old school and what a treasured memory..I've been blessed to have them and this experience