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A is for Albany

Albany had the same mayor, Erastus Corning 2nd, for over 40 years, from 1941 until his death in 1983.

Albany, New York has a long history, going back to at least 1624, when it was called Fort Orange, then later Beverwyck, under Dutch rule. From the city’s webpage: “In 1664 when the Dutch surrendered to the British without a battle, King Charles II granted territory… to his royal brother James, the Duke of both York and Albany. Thus Beverwyck became Albany and New Amsterdam became New York… It was on July 22, 1686, that Governor Thomas Dongan representing the British crown granted a charter recognizing Albany as a city.” It became the permanent capital of New York State in 1797.

As a city on the Hudson River, the city was important in trade. That song The Erie Canal has a line about it running “from Albany to Buffalo.”

One of the more controversial situations in 20th century Albany history was the razing of dozens of buildings to build the South Mall. It changed the skyline but cut off one side of the city from the other.

My own history in Albany, I believe, started in 1970. I was selected to participate in something called The Governor’s Conference on Children and Youth. I flew with a half dozen other people from Binghamton to Albany, only 150 miles away, in a little plane, maybe a 12-seater, during a thunderstorm; I was terrified. I did, however, get to meet Governor Nelson Rockefeller.

I moved from New Paltz, my college town, to Schenectady, not far from Albany, at the end of 1977, and then to Albany in August 1979.

I must admit that sometimes Albany can be quite parochial. I blame it in part on a long series of one-party rule, the Republicans around the turn of the 20th century, but the Democrats since the early 1920s. Albany had the same mayor, Erastus Corning 2nd, for over 40 years, from 1941 until his death in 1983.

I noted here that most folks have to be here 30 years before one’s REALLY from Albany. One somewhat derisive term for the place is Smallbany, which basically means that folks you meet in one set of circumstances you’d likely run into another. There’s a certain snarkiness by Albanians about the city touting the fact that it is about equidistant to NYC and Boston, rather than discussing the city’s many virtues, including two universities, one of which I attended.

ABC Wednesday – Round 12

Maureen O’Hara and the National Film Registry

Dance, Girl, Dance (1940), directed by Dorothy Arzner, pretty much the ONLY woman director in the studio era of American film.

Until a couple of days before Christmas 2012, I had never seen the 1947 movie Miracle on 34th Street. It features Maureen O’Hara as Doris Walker, who hires a new store Santa at Macy’s, then becomes concerned that he calls himself Kris Kringle and claims to be the actual Santa Claus.

The next night, while assisting Saint Nick, I stumbled upon the Independent Lens rebroadcast of These Amazing Shadows. I agree that “it’s a delightful, engaging documentary about America’s most beloved films and their preservation by the Library of Congress.” It starts with media mogul Ted Turner touting the colorization of movies, and the testimony before Congress by Woody Allen and others desiring that cinema receive better treatment.

Most of the program was about the movies in the National Film Registry. One is Miracle on 34th Street. Another is Dance, Girl, Dance (1940), directed by Dorothy Arzner, pretty much the ONLY woman director in the studio era of American film. The film costars Maureen O’Hara, who gives a great speech about men’s expectations of women entertainers.

Back in the fall of 2012, I saw the Parent Trap (1961), ALSO with Maureen O’Hara, though not on the Register. I’d never seen her in anything prior that point.

Incidentally, here’s a list of Some Films Not Yet Named to the National Film Registry.

BOOK REVIEW: The Things They Carried, by Tim O’Brien

This is the narrative of a bunch of soldiers, including one named Tim O’Brien, who ended up fighting in the Vietnam war, not always clear on the motivation.

Each year, there is an event sponsored by the National Endowment for the Arts called The Big Read. The idea is that whole communities, generally through the local library, pick one of (this year) 21 books for people to read. The Albany Fund for Education, a “not-for-profit charitable organization that raises funds for innovative programs in support of the Albany City School District” picked Tim O’Brien’s The Things They Carried. Free copies were distributed through the branches of the Albany Public Library, of which I am an active and vocal supporter. I had never participated before, but this time, someone literally had a copy of the book, said, “You ought to read this, it’s good,” and put it in my hands.

It’s helpful that it reads on the title page, “a work of fiction” because I would have thought otherwise. Indeed, the book is true, even if a few of the circumstances have changed. There’s quite a bit of contemplation about what “truth” is in the book, including the chapter, “How to tell a true war story.”

This is the narrative of a bunch of soldiers, including one named Tim O’Brien, who ended up fighting in the Vietnam war, not always clear on the motivation. Some of the guys made it back home, others didn’t. Those who made it sometimes had a difficult time, and those who didn’t have a hard time felt some pangs of guilt over THAT.

The writing style is intentionally nonlinear. It does not start at the beginning and go to the end. Sometimes, one gets a bit of recapitulation, so that by the end of the story, one KNOWS these guys, and can relate to their travails.

During the war, going off to Canada was an option many men considered, and some actually did, to avoid the war. Other thought of this as an act of cowardice, but if you read “On the Rainy River,” you might think otherwise.

The book was published in 1990, and about half of the 20-odd stories had been previously published, five in Esquire magazine. The edition I have is from 2009, suggesting that, when it is well told, the experience of war is, unfortunately, timeless.

Here’s a study guide of this extremely positively reviewed book.

Traditions of baseball, comic books, and film

I hadn’t read the Comic Buyer’s Guide regularly since 1994, but I would usually buy a copy on Free Comic Book Day each May, just to check out what was new

I lost a dollar this week. A blogger I know bet that no one would be elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame, and regrettably, he was right. Even allowing the “punishment” of those who allegedly took performance-enhancing drugs, there were plenty of qualified candidates (starting pitcher Jack Morris, the totally undervalued reliever Lee Smith, for two). This was an unfortunate outcome, and not so incidentally, will be lousy for tourism in Cooperstown this year.

Now, ironically, baseball will be expanding its drug-testing program.
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To my surprise, I was quite sad to read that Comics Buyer’s Guide is folding in March. The usual reasons were stated: “decline in advertising and free content online.”

CBG was “started by Alan Light as The Buyer’s Guide for Comic Fandom [in 1971], publishing monthly at first, then twice a month, then weekly…” By the time the newsprint magazine was acquired by Krause Publications in 1983 and changed its name, it had become the bible of the industry. It was like Variety was for entertainment or Billboard for music. Especially under Krause, the level of professionalism increased tremendously.

I started collecting comics in 1972, and when the Crystal Cave comic book store opened c. 1975 in New Paltz, I would buy the publication, scouring the ads for the best prices in back issue comics. That’s also where I first saw the classic comic renderings by my friend-to-be, Fred Hembeck.

When I started working at FantaCo in 1980, and we started publishing comic-book-related material, including material by Hembeck, we would dutifully mail our press releases to Don and Maggie Thompson. Sometimes they would use it, but often they would not. This was discouraging to some in the store, but it made me more determined to keep sending more and more info to them. Eventually, we became so “legitimate” that they would almost always report on our publication schedule. Indeed, I think that’s generally a lesson in dealing with the media: keep trying.

There was a lovely editorial written by Michael T. Gilbert shortly after Raoul Vezina, the artist who worked at FantaCo, had died in late 1983. I have that somewhere in the attic.

I hadn’t read CBG regularly since 1994 when I sold my collection, but I would usually buy a copy on Free Comic Book Day each May, if a copy could be found, just to check out what was new. It won’t be around for the next FCBD, though.

Mark Evanier has his own recollections.
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I start my quixotic attempt to see most of the films nominated for an Academy Award in the major categories. I’ve seen three of the nine nominees for best picture: Argo, Les Miserables, and Lincoln. Beasts of the Southern Wild came and went, and I don’t know if Life of Pi is still around.

Almost certainly, the next film we’ll see will be Silver Linings Playbook, which would take the count of best actor, best supporting actor, and best supporting actress nominations I will have seen from two to three each; best director from one to two; and best actress from zero to one.

Blood, football, and a funeral

he Red Cross had been bugging me to donate plasma for some time, but I hadn’t been able to carve out the time.

This keeps happening, so I shouldn’t be surprised, yet I often am anyway: I meet some older persons, generally at church, and get along with them well. Yet, when they die, and I read the obituaries and/or go to the funerals, I realize how little I really knew them.

Such was the case with Carolyn Garvin, a member of my church, whose funeral my wife attended this weekend. She was the nice old lady who always commented on how well the choir, of which I was a member, performed. She always was a very good conversational listener as well.

The things I DIDN’T know about her, though, were staggering. For one thing, she graduated from Binghamton Central High School, my alma mater, in 1947, though she was valedictorian. She was an elementary school teacher, which didn’t shock me, but was later the co-director of a migrant labor camp, which did. She was very active in the Civil Rights movement and was executive director of Planned Parenthood of Albany. She went back to school and eventually spent several years as the director of the Kairos Center for Care and Counseling in Albany, and had other responsible positions.

I was familiar with her gardening, love of pets, enjoyment of nature, and dedication to her church. I didn’t know that she had three adopted kids, one of whom died in a car accident.

I also wonder if some people also might have perhaps not take her seriously, or been impatient with her, in the latter days because she was suffering from what I’ve since discovered were signs of Alzheimer’s disease.

In any case, a learning, or relearning experience.
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Something else I did Saturday: I gave a blood donation by apheresis. I had donated blood via the more traditional method over 145 times. The Red Cross had been bugging me to donate plasma for some time, but I hadn’t been able to carve out the time. The process takes a couple of hours, including 74 minutes hooked to the machine. Got to sit around and watch part of some JEOPARDY! video someone gave me for Christmas a couple of years ago.

The strange thing about it is that it makes one rather chilled. It wasn’t that bad at the time, but I continued to feel cold even a day later.

I ended up watching all four NFL football games over the weekend, none of them in real-time. Well, one was a blowout and I gave up on that match. I discovered that one can watch a 60-minute game, that usually takes three hours or more in real-time, in 75 minutes or so. One key for me is to stay away from social media so I don’t learn the scores; once I learn the outcome, then the enjoyment of watching is greatly diminished.