Epistle 16 – Heroes

Along with half of the male children of my generation, my childhood hero was Mickey Mantle. Strong, handsome, great ball player. And a really cool name that sort of rolled off your tongue and looked good in the sports page headlines. The only downside was that The Mick played for the Damn Yankees and the rest of the town hated me for cheering him on. I didn’t care because he started me on the road to fame and fortune. One year I wagered my life savings, about $3.50, on the Yankees in the World Series, which, of course, they won, coming from behind in dramatic fashion and enriching my life beyond my wildest dreams . . . before or since.

Maybe heroes are supposed to have cool names like Mickey Mantle and Joe Montana. Win one for The Gipper, right? And how about Bart Starr? C’mon, is that a real name? Talk about Hollywood casting. Real people don’t have names like that and we need common heroes I can relate to. Take Jerry Wunsch, for instance. Who’s Jerry Wunsch, you ask? Well, I’ll tell you. Jerry was a football lineman for the University of Wisconsin and the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, among others. He was a solid, dependable, beefy guy who sweated and got his uniform dirty, and probably never got arrested for anything more than a traffic ticket. But guys named Wunsch never get to catch the game-winning pass or kick a last second field goal. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s the risk of having to carry them off the field on your shoulders, but it’s just not fair.

“Eddie the Eagle” Edwards, the British Olympic ski jumper, was a great hero. “Soar, Eagle, soar!” and “The Eagle has landed!” were great battle cries, but we don’t hear them anymore. I fear they have been drowned out by the wailing sirens coming to arrest our idols for some new and improved variety of moral turpitude. Can this be happening to us? Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio? Oh, I know there are still role models out there, but did you have anybody named Tiger in your neighborhood? I just had guys like Gopher, Butch, Big Shoe and Moby; and nobody seemed interested in putting them on a pedestal. As a matter of fact, I have a hard time seeing them there myself, but that’s just plain wrong.

Let’s win one for the Wunsch!

We Will Win

Epistle 5 – The Beatles

Elvis was the musical pioneering spirit of the Boomers, but the Beatles defined the generation. There were lots of other icons, of course—the Stones, Smoky Robinson, the Dead, the Eagles, you name it—but the Beatles transcended them all. It wasn’t so much that their music was better—taste is in the eye of the beholder, or something like that.

It was their persona and the worldwide impact of Beatlemania. Take Ringo, for instance, who had the good grace to understand he was the luckiest person on earth and went along for the ride with a smile. Or take Yoko Ono, who didn’t.

Consider that the Beatles vaulted Britain back into world prominence after being overlooked since RAF WWII heroics. I’ll bet you children at home didn’t even know the land of Shakespeare, Henry VIII, Churchill and Eddie the Eagle ever faded from view, but it’s true.

Except for defecting spies and the odd political deviant, not much happened after the war. Then, after the dawn of the Beatles, unemployment was wiped out with singing jobs for everyone with a British accent. With quaint names like Peter and Gordon, Chad and Jeremy, Petula and Herman (not related), how could they fail? My wife even has Chad and Jeremy’s album. Talk about a treasure.

After the Fab Four and the British invasion, the Beatles were not content to hold the world in the palms of their hands through talent alone. No sir. Then they got weird. Real weird. It was cute and charming to tell a teenage Boomerette “I want to hold your hand”. Imagine the shock after she grew out of the flower of her youth and was told, “I am the walrus.” Koo koo kachoo to you too, pal.

Well, most of the music was still great and we still get to listen to it just about anywhere and anytime we want. Sadly, George and John are gone, forever young in our minds, but at least we get to see an aging Paul make a fool of himself, just like us mere mortals. Could he really marry a younger woman without a prenup? Sure, Paul, she just married you for the beauty of your soul. Right.

At least Ringo still collects his royalties with a smile. Some things should never change.

We Will Win