Update 1-6-09

Hi,

Some notes, a newspaper clipping, and part of a letter from a college friend:
   
    First, from Booker Gibson:  To my wonderful friends from the class of '65 and other classes at South.  Have a Happy New Year and continue dropping notes to this weekly paper.  As I might have said before, don't think you're getting "old."  Later this year, I hope to be 79, so keep thinking how young you are.  My chiropractor keeps beating me up once a week, and maybe it's better.  Love to you all.
   
    From Terri Donohue Calamari:  Dear Southern Belles and Beaus.  Wishing ya'll a wonderful New Year from sunny Naples, Florida.  Love ya.
   
    From Eric Hilton:  Hi, Terri.  I just received your e-mail.  My wife, Gilda and I were in Naples over the weekend, visiting a friend from Elmont.  I'm sorry I didn't have your e-mail address, or I would have contacted you.  Hope you had a wonderful New Year's Eve, and the same to all other South High classmates.
        Be well all.
   
    From Emily Kleinman Schreiber:  The "conversation" about basements put me right back on Columbine Lane -- next door to the Purcells -- and down in the basement.  That basement was huge.  One side was finished, and the other still had cement walls.  The finished side saw lots of parties that my dad didn't relish.  He'd stand at the door in the role of bouncer.  Anyway, thanks for the momentary escape back to Green Acres.  I loved that old neighborhood.
   
    From Michael E. Mahler, at South:  Happy New Year.  I hope everyone had a very enjoyable holiday season.  Last year, some of you contributed your time and efforts into making Valley Stream South High School's Career Day a truly great experience for our students. I would like to ask for your assistance in continuing this tradition on Wednesday, March 24, 2009.  The event will take place during periods 1 to 3 (7:50 – 10:12 AM).
        The purpose of Career Day is to provide students with an educational opportunity that will inspire them to pursue the skills, knowledge, and experiences that are necessary to succeed in today’s constantly evolving world.  If you are able to participate or know anyone who would be eager to speak with our students regarding their occupation and experiences, please contact me at: 516-791-0373 or e-mail me at:  mahlerm@vschsd.org for further details.
        Thank you in advance for your help and cooperation.  We look forward to your assistance in making this Career Day a learning experience for all.
   
    A quick response, from Emily:  Michael, count me in.  I included information about Career Day in e-mails to South's Alumni.  Hopefully, some will participate in this most worthwhile event.
   
    [Rich -- I happened to be east last year for Career Day and spoke with several of the classes.  It was great fun.]
   
    From Robert Fiveson:  Apparently, The New York Times thinks I deserve some ink today.  Go figure.
   
    From The New York Times, January 6, 2009:  Critic's Choice:  New DVD's by Dave Kehr
        Clonus.  In the 1970's American horror movies achieved a distinct political consciousness, with George Romero's ''Dawn of the Dead'' (1978), Larry Cohen's ''It's Alive!'' (1974) and Tobe Hooper's ''Texas Chainsaw Massacre'' (1974), among many others, all drawing on the trauma of Vietnam and the rising fear of consumerist conformism to spin their dark fables of American life. The overlooked ''Clonus,'' a 1979 independent production directly by the one-shot wonder Robert S. Fiveson, has now been restored to their ranks, thanks to a well-produced DVD from the enterprising cinephiles at Mondo Macabro.
        Shot on the cheap in what looks, appropriately enough, like a Southern California junior college, ''Clonus'' (aka ''Parts: The Clonus Horror'') repackages the American class system as a fiendish attempt by the elite (led by Peter Graves as a slick presidential candidate) to breed clones of themselves with limited intelligence, whose organs can then be harvested when the need arises. The clones, meanwhile, are put through a parody of a university education -- pure indoctrination -- as they await transport to a magical land of plenty they know as ''America'' (actually, an extermination chamber).
        The budgetary limitations are clear (most conspicuously in the amateurish cast), but Mr. Fiveson has developed a tight script, focused on the efforts of one clone (Tim Donnelly) to escape his fate, that keeps the action moving and the viewer involved. The film has a stripped-down, functional style that suggests an educational or industrial film of the period, a low-budget limitation that Mr. Fiveson turns into an expressive asset. A genuine sleeper, accompanied by a 40-minute interview with Mr. Fiveson, who seems understandably baffled that he was never allowed to make another feature film. $19.95. Not rated.
   
    A last reminder that there's an Alumni Association meeting at South this Thursday evening, January 8th, at 7:15 in the library.
   
    Finally, part of a letter from a college friend of mine, Dan O'Rourke:  Pride goeth before the fall.  Some of you may remember in last year's letter that I mentioned something about a golf championship (ten times).  Well, apparently the Golf Gods -- those mythical creatures who control the bounce of the ball -- also read my news and decided some humility was in order.  And I don't mean just a mild lesson.  I was served a full helping of their vintage crow.  I not only drank deeply from the goblet of "You're Really Not That Good," but the Gods thought it would be particularly funny to pass my former success on to the less deserving:  yes, my family.  They were blessed with great, good fortune while I was forced to sit ringside and pretend to be happy.
        It began innocently:  I dropped from the second spot on my team to third, and sometimes fourth, golfer.  I soon discovered that I was neither a good enough player to win on my own nor a high-handicapped enough sandbagger to steal points from other duffers.  My team sank from first to seventh out of ten, and my championship trophy grew lonely in its solitary spot on the shelf.
        Meanwhile, my naive, newly teenaged daughter declared her support for one Barack Obama for president.  I wisely counseled that while the man was eloquent, he had no chance.  Clearly, Hillary Clinton or John McCain was more experienced and mature.  Foolishly, my daughter volunteered at Democratic headquarters with her mother.  I tried not to say, "I told you so," when Clinton and McCain each won the state's party primaries, and tried not to laugh when my son also joined the campaign.  The three of them literally knocked on hundreds of doors.  One man told them, "I'm not voting for your candidate, but I sure admire your passion and persistence."  So what did my daughter get for her efforts?  A new day in American politics and the hope of a better tomorrow.  What kind of lesson is that to teach young people?  Hope, dream, and work for a better future -- and prove your father wrong in the process.
        My son is a junior in high school and, like all teenage males before him, has somehow acquired "All The Knowledge In The Universe."  There's nothing that his parents know, think, or could even imagine that he has not already discerned.  To make matters worse, he joined the debate team, so now he's more articulate.  Now, I had some success in high school speech.  I even won my district championship -- in a six-way tie, but no matter.  In only his second year, my son qualified for the national championships, held in Las Vegas.  This year, he built on his success by winning the prestigious Cincinnati Princeton Tournament and going undefeated in the process.
        My wife:  oh, sure, where shall I start?  She'd been corresponding with a 90-year-old relative she discovered through an Internet search.  He's charming, funny, and has great family stories, but, alas, it was clear they would never meet, nor would she meet his son and daughter, with whom she'd also connected.  Oh, wait, did I mention that they all lived outside Las Vegas?  Well, the fates aligned so my son could compete at the national championships, my wife could visit her newfound relatives, and my daughter could fulfill her dream of flying on an airplane.  I stayed home and practiced my golf game.  To no avail.  In addition, my wife was asked to serve as associate dean, she traveled to four national conferences, and she published a second book, this one on the Truman Doctrine.  Another great family success story, blah, blah, blah...
        Okay, I'll admit it:  a guy who complains about not winning a golf championship has too much time on his hands and too much to be thankful for (but I really want just one more win -- please).  It was a much tougher year for many:  jobs lost, finances tight, families struggling to survive.  Still, through all this misfortune, I'm left with a genuine sense of hope.  Hope for a better time, with peace, opportunities, and maybe a better golf swing.  As an old golf pro once said, "The most important shot is the one you're about to hit."