Monday, August 16, 2010

Memorial for Irv

Irv was my best friend. We first met when he, Sherry, and Karen visited us shortly after they moved to Houston in 1957.
That visit had an element of who was going to be the big dog in our relationship. Somehow, we got around to talking about anorexia nervosa. That was the kind of problem that a child psychiatrist would take care of; that was Irv’s specialty. So I asked him, “Have you seen the latest about anorexia nervosa in the Proceedings of the Mayo Clinic? ”
He paused and admitted, “No, I haven’t.”
I dashed back to my study, found the article, and showed it to him. The game had started. Score: Dan--one, Irv--zero.
That didn’t faze Irv: in fact, we developed a genuine friendship. When I saw all the books he read, all the magazines he subscribed to, all the journals piled up on his coffee table, all the meetings he attended, all the countries he visited, I surrendered. No contest.
Our friendship was nourished by the closeness of Yvette and Sherry. They talked every day by phone. Sometimes twice a day, week after week, month after month. Finally Irv asked, “What do they talk about? “
I shrugged my shoulders, “Beats me.”
Then came the two-for-one phase of our lives. Houston’s restaurants offered coupons giving two meals for the price of one. The four of us were children of the Great Depression, so we attacked the offer of 2 for 1 with gusto. The downside was that most of the restaurants were one star or less. No matter, we filled our stomachs and at ½ price. If the food wasn’t good, the price was.
At about that time Irv and Yvette went on diets to combat their coronary artery disease. Result; fish, vegetables, fresh vegetables, more fish, and more vegetables. But we were saving money and eating healthy.
Then came the event that literally changed my life. Irv heard that Paul Gittings Jr of the portrait photography studio was giving a 10-week course on photography. Irv invited me to go with him every Wednesday night for 10 weeks.
I had been mildly interested in the camera since I had been bar mitzvah. Most of you don’t know that many years ago Eastman Kodak gave every Jewish boy a box camera when he reached his 13th birthday. Clever marketing: the lucky boy got a camera but had to buy film, then pay for having it processed and printed- a gold mine for Kodak. The course by Gittings reawakened my interest in photography and ever since has been important in adding life to my years.
Irv and I often spent Saturday mornings doing nature photography. I photographed flowers and leaves; Irv took pictures of me as I photographed.
Irv was a profound source of advice for me. I knew he was wise about life and helping people. Through the years when I called him, no matter the time of day or a weekday or weekend, he made himself available. When I called, he would respond, “Come over.” He was never judgmental; he gave me solutions to perplexing problems. I knew I could trust him. And he enjoyed advising me about problems that he and I shared as aging males and good friends.
In a way I could never repay him for what he did for me. I tried laughing at his sense of humor; well, I really didn’t laugh, I groaned. And it wasn’t humor; it was puns, awful puns.
For his birthday I invited Irv to our house for lunch. We talked, ate a bowl of hearty soup, sipped red wine, and ate chocolate birthday cake. We agreed we still had all our marbles. As I dropped him off at his house, he glanced at his watch. He noted that he had stayed longer than usual. He asked, “What shall I tell Sherry?”
I suggested “Tell her we’ve been talking about her.” He thanked me profusely. Hey, what are friends for?
Who will I send emails to, who will I invite for lunch and conversation? Who will I sing Happy Birthday to? Who will I forward sexy e-mails to? Who will I talk to about my problems?
Irv, I do miss you.

Saturday, August 7, 2010

On the Dummy Line - with NEW lyrics

(posting by Keith)
For those of us who travelled any distance by car with Dan and Yvette, the song "On the Dummy Line" is well known.  We've memorized three or four verses about Farmer Jones, my girl in Mobile, and some other characters.  It gives us a warm and familiar feeling when we hear it or sing it.  Somehow Rachael and I were talking about the song and we thought we should do some research to see if we could find more verses.  Success!  Rachael found a bunch.  They are shown below for your pleasure, but I have to make a suggestion.  I've found that they just don't work very well when read silently in my head.  They were about eight times funnier when Rachael was reading them out loud to me.  So I suggest printing this posting and finding a willing family member to share the fun of reading them aloud.  I should also mention that some of them are rated PG, maybe even PG13. 
Special thanks to Rachael for assembling the list.

On the dummy line,
On the dummy line,
Rain or shine
I'll pay my fine
Rain or shine
I'll pay my fine
Ridin' ridin' ridin' on the dummy, dummy line.

I saw a snail
Go whizzing past;
The guy beside me said,
"This train is fast!"
Said I, "Old man,
That might be true,
But the question is,
What's it fast compared to?"

I said to the brakeman,
"Can't you speed up a bit?"
Said he, "You can walk
If you don't like it."
Said I, "Mr. Brakeman,
I'd like to take your dare,
But the folks don't expect me
Til the train gets there."

There was a doctor
By the name of Beck
He fell in the well
And he broke his neck;
It served him right,
As you may own;
He should attend the sick
And leave the well alone!

Farmer Jones,
He went out in a boat,
The boat turned over,
And we threw him a rope;
Said Farmer Jones,
"Well, I can't swim,
But I'll be drowned first
Afore I'll be roped in!"

A little boy
On his way home from school
Saw a dollar bill
At the foot of a mule;
He stooped right down
Just as sly as a fox,
You can see him at the hospital
Till seven o'clock.

I once had a girlfriend
Down in Mobile,
She had a face
Like a lemon peel.
She had a wart
At the end of her chin;
She said it was a dimple,
But a dimple turns in!

Little Willy was a good Boy Scout
He gouged his sister's eyeballs out.
When his mother said, "Willy, stop,'
He jumped on them to make them pop.

Little Willy at a passing gent
threw a bag of wet cement.
Then Willy said, "when you dry
you're sure to be a real hard guy."

Little Willy was full of gore
he nailed his sister to the door.
Said Willy's mother, in a voice so faint:
"Willy, please -- you'll scratch the paint!"

Little Willy found some dynamite,
couldn't understand it quite.
Curiosity never pays –
it rained Willy seven days!

Little Willie Jones fell down the elevator
There they found him six months later
They held their noses and said, "Gee, whiz,
What a spoiled child our little Willie is."

I looked out my window so early one morn
There was a tramp who was munching the lawn
I said "My good man, if you're after a snack
The grass is much longer around the back."

I called on my girl, her name was Miss Brown
She was having a shower and couldn't come down
I said "Slip on something, you'd better be quick"
She slipped on the soap and, my word, she was quick

Mary the milkmaid was milking the cow
The trouble with Mary, she didn't know how
The farmer came out and he gave her the sack
So she turned the cow over and poured the milk back

I woke up in the morning and spied upon the wall,
The bedbugs and the roaches were having a game of ball,
The score was 19-20, the roaches were ahead,
The bedbugs hit a homerun and knocked me out of bed.

the other day i saw a bear
a great big bear oh way up there
he looked at me, i looked at him
he sized up me, i sized up him
he said to me, "why don't you run?
i see you ain't got any gun"
and so i ran away from there
and right behind me was that bear
ahead of me there was a tree
a great big tree oh lucky me
and so i jumped into the air
and missed that branch oh way up there
now don't you fret and don't you frown
i caught that branch on the way back down
the moral of my story is
don't talk to bears in tennis shoes

Little Willy coming home from school
Spied a half a dollar at the foot of a mule
Stooped down to pick it up, quiet as a mouse
Funeral tomorrow at little Willy's house!

Little birdie in the sky
Dropped some whitewash in my eye
Says I to me; says me to I
"I'm sure glad that cows can't fly!"

There was a boy by the name of Jack
Pitched his tent on a railroad track
Midnight express came around the bend
What kind of flowers did you send?

There once was a hunter, his name was O'Hare
He was chased by a grizzly bear
The people all thought he was out of his mind
Running down the street with a bear behind!

There was an old witch by the name of Nan
Who tried to pass as a good humor man
Couldn't fool the kids, they all stayed home -
They would not buy from an ice cream crone.