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In 1965, I was a sophomore at Crane High School in Chicago.  There were not a lot of us geeks there at the time.  I made acquaintance with another rather geeky young man named Leonard.  We soon realized that we had many interests in common, from chess and comic books to bowling and science fiction, so we became fast friends.  At some point we also discovered that we actually shared the same birthday, September 29th, the same year, 1950.  So we decided to celebrate our birthday together.  That first time, we probably had dinner and went bowling or something like that.

That was the start of a long standing tradition.  Except for a couple of years when Leonard was in the Army, and I was back home in college, we have celebrated our birthdays together (once I had a birthday party in my dorm room on campus and sent an audio recording of it to him, all the way to his base in Germany).  The tradition is that we do it alone, no wives or girlfriends, and our spouses have always been very understanding and respected that.  Sometimes we would go to a club or bar (that pretty much ended after we got married), usually we’d have a nice dinner, go bowling, go to a movie or find a quiet place to pay chess.  Then we would end the night reminiscing.

One year I got tickets to a murder mystery play that was an audience participation kind of thing.  Because I bought the tickets on the phone with my credit card, they actually knew my name and where I was sitting.  The setting of the play was supposed to be a dinner function in the basement of a church, and the characters kept thanking me for providing the meat for the meal.  I played along, of course.  To this day, I’m sure that the other people at the table thought we were part of the cast.

Tonight, for our 44th celebration, we went to see the movie “Surrogate” at the Hollywood Blvd. theatre in the southwest suburban Woodridge.  You sit in comfortable, individual chairs at a bar or table, and they serve you dinner while you watch the movie.  Great fun, and the movie was good too.

This year we turned 59, and we’re trying to come up with something special for our 60th next year.  Of course, as we get older, the outings get tamer.  Back in the day we’d stay out all night.  Tonight I was home by 10:00 PM.

I keep saying that one day I was going to compare birth certificates to see who was really older.

So, happy birthday to me and happy birthday to my buddy and brother Leonard.  God willing, we shall celebrate many more–together!

In this rarely seen footage, a 14-year-old Michael Jackson appears on TV’s Dating Game!

Hard to believe it’s the same person!

Found this through a really cute website called www.upchucky.com

Every baby boomer in America is remembering Walter Cronkite.  He was there when Kennedy was assassinated, when King was assassinated and when Neil Armstrong stepped onto the surface of the moon.

I was, and always have been a big fan of the space program.  I would be late for school on the morning when there was a launch.  Walter Cronkite seemed to be a much a part of the space program as any astronaut; he was always there.  I will never forget his reaction when we landed on the moon.

I can hardly believe it.  Spongbob Squarepants has been on the air 10 years.  I remember the first time I saw that show.  “How dumb” I thought.  The next time, I thought, “how silly.”  The third time I watched an entire program.

No, I am not a Spongebob fan, but I realize how little child-appropriate entertainment there is out there. 

When I was growing up, cartoons were for kids. I got tired of “South Park” after the first season when the novelty wore off.  I really like “Family Guy,” but the shows are getting more and more offensive. 

Spongebob is a kids cartoon.  No sillier than “Huckleberry Hound,” “The Flinstones,” or any of the other shows I grew up with.  From what I have seen, Spongebob is clean simple fun, and the children seem to love him.   So, long live Spongebob!

There is so much controversy over the press presenting a negative image of Michael Jackson after his passing. I heard some announcer on CNN assuring that their coverage had always been respectful.

Let’s face it. Michael Jackson was weird. And I sure his upbringing had a lot to do with it. But, as I recall, Elvis Presley was weird, John Lennon was weird. What we remember, though is their great talent and musical legacy they left behind. The same will be true of MJ.

So I’ll listen to my favorite Micheal Jackson, Elvis and Beatles music and not worry about how strange they were. That’s just not important to me.

My wife and I were at an event with food, music and dancing earlier this evening.  Shortly after we arrived, the DJ took a moment to speak on the passing of a music icon.  Micheal Jackson, the “King of Pop” had died earlier today.

My wife and I looked at each other.  We had not heard the news.

“That’s strange,” I said, “I had just read that Farah Fawcett had passed away today.”

“That’s three!” she said.

“Three?” I asked.

“Always happens in threes.  Ed McMahon died over the weekend!”

Ok, I am not that superstitious.  I don’t think she really is either.  But it was strange.

Of course the thing that hits me the most is that these were the celebrities I grew up with.  Ed McMahon co-hosted the Tonight Show with Johnnie Carson forever.  I remember a Farah Fawcett as the young  blonde bombshell that boys dreamed about.  And I watched Michael Jackson evolve from a talented little kid to what he finally became before passing away at 50 years of age today.

Guess I’m just feeling a little old right now…

I am not a big blues fan, but I can appreciate any good music.

Koko Taylor was a classic.  She also shared my birthday!  My best friend Leonard and I (born same day same year) celebrate together every year.  About 10 or 15 years ago, we were celebrating on Rush street and saw a ‘Happy Birthday Koko’ sign at one of the clubs.  We went to join the party, but it was already over.  The guest of honor had left.

A couple of years ago, I’m walking into the Barnes and Nobel’s on State and Randolph and who do I see coming in the door but Koko herself.  She was there for a book signing.

Being one of the few people who actually recognized her, I asked if she’d take a picture with me.  She said she would love to take a picture “with a young man!”

Bless you, Koko!

At a recent event, I introduced myself as one of (if not the) oldest geeks in the room. I discovered that, although I was probably indeed the oldest geek, I was not the only baby boomer who experienced the beginnings of the technological era of which we are now a part.

Most of the people in the room (mostly under 30) did not remember black and white TV. Oh, they knew what it was, technically; they had seen the little black and white portables you can buy in the drugstore for $25. They have no memory of when TV was broadcast exclusively in black and white.

I recall, as a child, sitting in front of the family Motorola table top TV set, waiting for the first NBC color broadcast. Imagine my disappointment when that peacock’s tail was only shades of gray. You had to have a color TV to see a color broadcast. And at upwards from $1,000 each, we were not likely to own a color TV soon.

Transparent plastic color filter that was stuck on the screen of a black and white TV to make it color

Then my brother, who was always on the cutting edge of technology, came home with the perfect answer. I don’t remember what it was called back then. It was a sheet of transparent plastic with horizontal bands of color, blue on top, yellow in the middle and green on the bottom. You would stick the plastic on the front of your TV screen and–wow! COLOR!

You have to remember, these were simpler times.

As color TV’s became more inexpensive and more people owned them, I made an interesting discovery. No one knew how to adjust them. I’d walk into the home of a friend or relative and catch them watching a picture with purple faces and glaring red eyes, green skies…the plastic sheet was better than that!

When I finally got on my own and could afford a good TV, I bought a 12-inch Sony. It was small, but it had a revolutionary picture tube that produced an awesome picture. I tweaked it to perfection and enjoyed many hours of properly adjusted viewing.

Until someone broke into my apartment and stole it.

After a month of grieving, I decided to get another TV. A bigger and better one. Even though the first one had not been totally paid for yet (ouch!). This was a 15-inch beauty. Another Sony, with a great picture.

Oh, and I moved to a different apartment building, too.

I was able to enjoy this TV for a couple years before someone broke in and took it.

Not to be outdone. I figured it was time to move up. And I was determined not to be the official neighborhood supplier of free TV sets. I found another Sony. A 26-inch console. Built inside a beautiful wooden case. That weighed a ton. I figured, if they wanted this thing, it would take at least two guys and they were going to get hernias carrying it out.

When the day came for delivery, I was shocked to see it lifted out of the truck and carried up a flight of stairs by one guy with a harness.

Anyway, I was allowed to keep this TV, and it served me well for some 18 years before it died.

Now we have a big screen TV, digital cable and a DVD player.

And what do I watch? Reruns of The Twilight Zone and The Honeymooners, and my collection of Three Stooges DVDs.

All in glorious black and white.