Taking My Medicine

I remember how good I felt when they were up 31-10 with eight minutes to go, then Manningham fumbled on the sideline and the pile-up began. I'm lying, if I say I'm not in pain today. It feels horrible. This team who doesn't know I'm alive, I give them unyielding support, suspend my disbelief for no other professional sports team, imagine they care that I care, vicariously enjoy them, letting my world go up and down with theirs.

As a boy, three teams ruled my universe: New York Giants, New York Yankees and the New York Rangers. Steinbrenner took the joy out of the Yankees, and the Rangers lost my respect when they traded Jean Ratelle for Phil "Let's Stand in Front of the Net" Espositio.

After Sparky Lyle departed the Yankees, my heart only belonged to the low flying Giants. I'm a life long parishioner in the Church of Mara. Today, the chapel is dark.

*************************

Heard sad news this afternoon, Clay Cole died. His Saturday night rock and rock show on Channel 11 was the TV highlight of the week in the 1960s. Clay was a sweet generous talented man and hopefully he will enter the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in the near future.

I wrote about Clay last year on the blog, I will miss him:

JUNE 8, 2009

The Clay Cole Show

Mom's got that crazy hair dryer going that comes out of a little hard plastic suitcase. It's larger than a portable typewriter, but smaller than a day tripper. Regardless, it looks like a heart lung machine to me.

Dad's loiters with a scotch as Mom gets ready.

I want them gone. Cindy, my babysitter, is the prettiest girl in St. Stephen's eighth grade and for a whole night she's mine and Rory's.

As Mom & Dad walk out the door the Clay Cole Show comes on Channel 11. He's cool, he's handsome as James Bond, and everybody in music comes and sings on his show. I'm 8 yrs old. All those girl groups!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nSwe17Z1njo&feature=related

I want him,
I need him.
And someday, someway...whoooa...I'll meet him.
He'll be kind of shy.
And real good looking too.
And I'll be certain, he's my guy,
By the things he'll like to do.
Like walking in the rain,
And wishing on the stars up above,
And being so in love.

Everyday I Write The Book ~ Yorkville Radio Tonight @ 9pm

Tonight on "Yorkville: Stoops to Nuts" radio @ 9pm @ Centanni Broadcasting Network my guests are: Timothy J. O'Mara & Barry Stabile.

Listen here live or on archive at your convenience:

http://www.centannibroadcasting.com/

Tim is a terrific author who's just signed up with two agents to sell his book, "Sacrifice Fly," and Tim is the co-founder of the We Three Productions Reading series (16 years old and going strong at Bar 82). Tim has something on his mind and plans on bringing it to Giovanna's Restaurant tonight.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jfFunjzyIsE

Barry Stabile is an accomplished musician and yarn spinner. He's currently part of "All Mobbed Up." The group was the house band at Cha~Cha's on the Coney Island boardwalk this past summer on Friday nights. Unfortunately, Cha~Cha's lost their lease and like hundreds of things long gone at the beach, it's gone forever. Barry grew up in Bay Ridge and he and I will have lots to say on that subject, starting with the guy who put a bullet in his friend's caboose with a hammer as the trigger, it's a long story, listen tonight and Barry will tell you all about it.

I'm in a Clay Cole and Sandy Becker mood. Thinking of Clay's Christmas shows and Sandy Becker going bananas, "Hambone, Hambone, have you heard? Momma's going to buy you a mocking bird, and if that mocking bird don't sing..."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_9Wx8BRjzoI

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=REeeucZtDY0

I Wanna Find One Face That Ain't Looking Through Me

Yesterday, I linked to Don McLean, "American Pie." It's opening lyrics reflected my mood related to seeing live music in 1978, when I was 24.

A long, long time ago...
I can still remember
How that music used to make me smile.
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
And, maybe, they’d be happy for a while.

But February made me shiver
With every paper I’d deliver.
Bad news on the doorstep;
I couldn’t take one more step.

I can’t remember if I cried
When I read about his widowed bride,
But something touched me deep inside
The day the music died.

Early that summer, I went to a Bad Company concert, and

sat through it like a work meeting. Bored. I was leading up to that, because the last few live shows I went to made me feel the same way. Empty. I thought I'd lost my musical inspiration.

(Bruce pix by Jeffrey Havas)

That August, my girlfriend, Yvette & I went to see Bruce Springsteen for the first time at Madison Square Garden. We got there two hours early and split an eight pack of Miller nips, watching people traffic and scoring the winners.

Inside, the energy was electric but I didn't know why yet. Then the band took the stage and ripped into "Badlands." I found religion in that four minute song. It felt like 1964, I was ten years old again, watching all the girl groups on the Clay Cole Show, watching Roy Orbison singing "Crying," and "Pretty Woman." It didn't matter it was a crappy little TV, those artists week after week tore my heart open, moved in, bought furniture and never left. Springsteen woke everybody up in there, and they haven't left me since 1978.

The next night, I went back to MSG alone, and bought a $6 ticket for $15 from a scalper. Starting from my blue heaven seat I ended up in the third row in the orchestra by the third song and stayed there crouched on the floor between two girls for the entire show including the three encores.

Tons of great shows followed: Garland Jeffreys, John Hiatt, J Geils Band, Elvis Costello, Shawn Colvin, Lucinda Willams, Mary Lee's Corvette, Losers Lounge, and on... When I die, tickets for my next live show will be in my dresser. Somebody pick them up, don't waste them!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yiGWs6jzKUg&feature=related

Yorkville on the Radio Tonight!

"Yorkville: Stoops to Nuts," on internet radio tonight!

Tune in @ 9pm on the Centanni Broadcasting Network

Our first show will explore this group photo taken on August 30, 1942. It's a Service Flag Dedication ceremony nine months after the U.S. entry into WWII. We'll look at the Yorkville neighborhood and what people were doing at a heightened time of shortages, stress and anxiety.

Two of the people in the crowd are my father, Bob Pryor, and my uncle Mickey Fiorillo, 13 & 9 years old. Mickey is my guest tonight. Mickey was born on the 500 block on 84th Street in 1933. He currently works for the Mets at Citifield in customer service. During his rich career, Mickey occupied a few stools in Kronks, the Old Timers & Loftus Tavern, joined the Army, starred at bat & in the field for Yorkville softball teams, iron worker at the Trade Center, off-Broadway & film actor, bar keep and Yorkville son his entire life. Mickey's ready, and he's playing two!


The show is live from Giovanna's Restaurant on Lexington Ave & 100th St. Come to the show, have dinner, a glass of wine, or tune in 

One hour devoted to storytelling about neighborhood places, characters, and institutions with terrific guests & music. They'll be shows on the RKO 86th Street, Old Yankee Stadium, Carl Schurz Park, Losers Lounge, Clay Cole Show, Cornelia Street Cafe, and various Yorkville taverns & shops. Tune in, I'll take you back.

The Clay Cole Show

Mom's got that crazy hair dryer going that comes out of a little hard plastic suitcase. It's larger than a portable typewriter, but smaller than a day tripper. Regardless, it looks like a heart lung machine to me.

Dad's loiters with a scotch as Mom gets ready.

I want them gone. Cindy, my babysitter, is the prettiest girl in St. Stephen's eighth grade and for a whole night she's mine and Rory's.

As Mom & Dad walk out the door the Clay Cole Show comes on Channel 11. He's cool, he's handsome as James Bond, and everybody in music comes and sings on his show. I'm 8 yrs old. I'm in heaven.

I want him,
I need him.
And someday, someway...whoooa...I'll meet him.
He'll be kind of shy.
And real good looking too.
And I'll be certain, he's my guy,
By the things he'll like to do.
Like walking in the rain,
And wishing on the stars up above,
And being so in love.
.
.