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Forks in the Road: Chapter 17 IT TAKES A VILLAGE As I write this, I have been at Village on the Green for just over a year. The time has passed rapidly, as it seems to do as one gets older. It took me till the end of October to sell the Orange Tree house and be totally rid of the maintenance and other expenses there. One ironic thing about the sale; I’d always complained that there were no orange trees in Orange Tree. So one Christmas I was gifted by Wendy and Harvey with a small tree that bore one navel orange. We nursed it along through years of one, none, and four oranges. But the year the house was sold, it was loaded with a bumper crop, almost ready to pick! Most of my belongings fit snugly into my new abode. Some were passed along to children and grandchildren; some were donated to the Salvation Army and the Civic Theatre. Some are being stored prior to holding a contemplated garage sale. The Village held a White Elephant Sale in March, and I unloaded a number of appropriate items at that time. I’ve always been famous for having a garage full of “things,” never permitting a car to be placed therein. This reputation has not changed. It has been twenty years since I have had a car in my garage. I have found most of the people here to be very enjoyable. There are several that I can call friends, and many acquaintances. I play poker twice a week with a group of cheerful people who enjoy the fun of playing for ridiculously low stakes. I attend and participate in some of the planned activities, but not all. Bridge, needlework, painting, and bingo are not exactly my cups of tea. Nor is golf; even though I’m living adjacent to a golf course again! Physical things that have bothered me for years continue to annoy. These include arthritis, sinus problems, a spastic colon, bad feet, sleep disorders, neuropathy, and deteriorating vision. For the past several years, I have taken most of my medical problems to the Mayo Clinic branch in Jacksonville, where efficiency reigns at a level I have never seen anywhere else. They take good care of me. At the time I moved to the Village, I was in the midst of a series of eye operations. The time had come to have cataracts removed; the flamboyant super-confident surgeon said he could improve my vision so I could “throw away my glasses,” and would also straighten up my divergent left eye. When the series of operations and recuperations were concluded, my distant vision was improved considerably, but my close vision was lessened to the point where I have difficulty reading normal type without the help of a magnifying glass. I wear trifocals, as I have for several years, and I have a special pair of “computer glasses,” with one lens set for the distance to the computer screen and the other to whatever reading matter I might be employing at the time. The left eye stayed shut for more than two months, but it was straight; however, when it reopened, it began diverging again and is back to just about the same shape as before the surgery. Altogether the treatments were a net failure. I feel that, except for removing the cataract from my right eye, a lot of money, time, and discomfort was in vain. I continue to enjoy my music collections, although I have virtually ceased adding to them because I haven’t the space. I still get questions about music and classic movies, another field in which my television work gave me some expertise. I have developed the use of a computer program for the creation and arranging of music, to the point that, if I could pick the PC up and take it with me, I could have my own “band” to accompany me at any time, on any one of nearly four hundred songs. I enjoy arranging and entering the songs and hearing what I have written come to life. I don’t read as much as I used to because of my eyes. There is nothing wrong with being alone; there’s a big difference between “alone” and “lonely.” During two long segments of my life, I acquired a knack for discovering and enjoying things I can do alone, starting with games I made up as a kid. I can enjoy my solitary pursuits here as much as I care to, yet I have the friends and neighbors to enliven the rest of my time when I so choose.
The one thing I found to fall short here was entertainment. So I have become involved. Last November, I persuaded some of my music friends to come and help me present Request Night. Each resident attending was invited to make a request, and we honored all of them in the show, which was a big hit. Several residents told me it was the best entertainment they had ever experienced here. Others said it was the first time any program lasted nearly two hours with nobody walking out. I could see the smiles on the faces of people whom I had never seen smile before, tapping their feet to the music. One lady told me what I was doing was “a ministry.” In February, I put on another show, but obtained a small budget from the Village to compensate the other performers. This one was keyed to Valentine’s Day and offered all songs with “heart” in their titles, plus, of course, My Funny Valentine. In May 1997, we presented Your Hit Parade of the Thirties, which immediately called for an encore based on the Forties, which we will do some time in 1998. In August, I was joined by five others in presenting an all-Gershwin concert. We plan to have Request Night again in November and continue quarterly presentations. This activity has made life here much more enjoyable for me, as well as for my fellow residents. There is nothing I’d rather do than put together a show and sing the great American standard popular songs. I enjoy the company of the many musical friends I have met over the years. Nancy Evans was a top singer for years with the Wayne King orchestra. Mary and she met when they patronized the same beauty shop. Rick Fay, a world-class saxophonist and clarinetist as well as a writer of excellent prose and poetry, reviewed some of our plays at the dinner theater and has since become a close friend through mutual musical activities. Michael Kramer is a brilliant pianist, one of many excellent accompanists with whom I have performed over the years. Laura Yager is a fine singer who joins me in our shows and parties and with whom I have enjoyed doing duets. With these and many others, a Windsor musical party attracts as many as forty professional musicians and entertainers, the combined payroll for which would frighten a millionaire. I held my annual year-end party here at the Village in January. The usual quota of people from a wide variety of interests attended, with the emphasis on music. It was one of the best parties ever And for the first time I didn’t have to clean up afterward, as the whole affair was catered by the Village. The summer party for the Gershwin centennial was also held here.
Wendy and Nicholas continue to visit every week, although there are no longer the extensive housekeeping chores that she used to perform for me. Nicholas is now in the third grade and astounding one and all with the diverse interests in which he excels. Harvey has a successful business in environmental research and development, and his son and daughter by previous marriage have over the years become my “ready-made” grandchildren, both now adults, working and attending college. Chip married Michelle Johnson, and they have two adorable little daughters, Brianna and Kaylyn.
Marty and Steve both work in the computer field; they live a couple of hours to the east in Palm Bay and have recently added to my collection of descendants with baby Stephanie.
Tony keeps busy with his business News Directions in Chattanooga, acting as a developer of talent in the field of broadcast journalism.
Billy and Barbara live in Cleveland, where he is president of 1st Communications, a growing new company that puts on trade shows and expositions all over the world. This developed through his progress in the publications field. Their son Ryan will soon re-enter college after following his Dad’s footsteps in an abortive beginning at the University of Texas in Austin. My granddaughter, Brittany, has a degree with honors from Vanderbilt in economics, a good job with a major management consulting firm, and a plan to go to Dartmouth for graduate school in the near future under her employer’s auspices. All of the brood seem to be doing well, and I’m proud of every one. I’m especially proud of the fact that, among them, spouses included, there are eight bachelor’s degrees, two master’s and a PhD, with more degrees in progress. Pretty good for a guy who dropped out of junior college! I also take a great deal of pride in a long list of people who worked at my stations over the years and are now highly successful in broadcasting. There are company presidents, general managers, program directors, and news directors in markets from coast to coast who belong to my mythical “alumni association.” Many of my long-time friends are no longer with us. Bill Kilmer, Stan Cross, Ralph Burgess, the Morands, Lawrence Welk, Mack McCay are all gone. I have lost touch with Atkinson. Lou Huston lives in Greensboro, North Carolina, and we are in touch occasionally. I visited Gene Clark on his farm in New Hampshire a few years ago, but so far I have been unable to get him to thaw out and return the visit. Howard went back to school for a doctorate in psychology and has practiced in that field for a number of years. He has specialized in gambling addiction, and if you ask any fan of horse racing, you will find that “Doc” Sartin is a guru in that field. Mary’s sisters are all still enjoying life, Hazel in California, Hortense in the Virginia mountains, Shirley in South Carolina, and Peggy still in Danville. Steve married in 1993, and now has two stepchildren and a step-grandchild; they live in good old 53 Stuart (now Carlson) Avenue in Schoolfield. Even with all the ups and downs, I can’t say that I regret any of the experiences of my life. All were sources of learning and development. Of course, from time to time, I think of the various “Forks in the Road” and what might have happened had I: 1. Gone with my father to Texas in 1935. 2. Not gone to Texas in 1936 3. Stayed with my father in Texas in 1936.. 4. Not returned to California from New York in 1936. 5. Stayed at the Pasadena Theater in 1937. 6. Not goofed up at J. Walter Thompson. 7. Not hitch-hiked to New York in 1938. 8. Returned to college from Toledo in 1938. 9. Remained in Grand Rapids in 1939. 10 . Not gone to Birmingham in 1941.. 11 . Left WKNB for the soap opera role in 1946. 12 . Stayed in radio in 1953. 13 . Not gone to Lubbock in 1963. 14 . Not taken the “temporary” job in Orlando. 15 . Not entered Village on the Green in 1996. My only true regret is that I spent so much time on work, during the thirty years of my marriage, that I failed to spend enough hours with my wife. I would come home in the evening with a loaded briefcase, eat my dinner, and retire to my study to do my “homework.” Often she needed my company, and I failed to respond. I really could not imagine that this wonderful woman loved me to the extent that she longed for more of my time. I thought that working to improve our lot in life was in her best interest, but I devoted too much of our life together to my career pursuits and not enough to her. I only realized this after I lost her. I now see Bill and Harvey doing much the same, and it grieves me. And when Tony marries, his wife is in for it, as he’s the greatest “work-a-holic” of us all.
There is one thing of which I’m certain. There was no Fork in the Road involved when I met and married my Mary in 1947. It was the best thing that ever happened to me, and much more than I deserved. In the lyrics of a song I sang in Gigi – “forevermore is shorter than before.” As my years wind down, I look forward to welcoming the “millennium.” I don’t expect any more forks in my road. I’ve had enough to last a lifetime.
Preface |
Dedication
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