Butler’s dream season and run for the NCAA championship has harkened back to the legendary 1954 Milan Miracle when the Little Giants won the State Basketball Championship with Bobby Plump and the rest of the Milan immortals. Bobby has been on National TV and all over the Internet. The references to the plot of the film “Hoosiers” and how the Butler Bulldogs in real life compare to the Hickory Huskers in reel life has been the subject of blogs and sports commentary for the past two weeks.
It seems hard to be believe that “Hoosiers” was shot in Indiana and Indianapolis nearly a quarter of a century ago. It’s even harder for me to realize that my first big screen role, that of “fan in Row ZZZ, Seat 22, Section 300,” still holds up today. A recent poll of film fans named “Hoosiers” the greatest sports film ever made and a film critics poll called it the fourth best sports film in movie history.
I arrived at Hinkle Field House on the second night of filming. I had heard that the production crew had a hard time getting enough people to fill the field house seats and make it look authentic on the first night. Obviously an actor of my stature was required to save the day. A trip to the sign-in table confirmed this. I was told that if I agreed to shave my beard off and get an Alfalfa in Our Gang style hair cut that I would be allowed to sit in the floor level seats. I asked them if I could just shave my mustache off and be Amish but they said no. I would not compromise my art, however, so my look remained the same. An assistant producer came up and told me that they did have a special role just for me, that of “fan in Row ZZZ, Seat 22, Section 300” a pivotal role in the course of the action. I signed the sheet and went about learning my dialog. YEAAAAHHHHH!!!!! and HOOOORAYYYYYY!!!!! I whispered to myself as I tried to explore my role motivation.
I wandered out of the arena to a side lobby and to my amazement, there stood Gene Hackman! He was standing next to a closed concession stand window, about 30 yards away. What a heaven sent opportunity — for Gene! At last, he could be coached by someone who knew acting and knew the Hoosier persona. I would assure him that I would be there to help him work through the scene. He could depend on me to pick up his dropped cues and ad lib through forgotten dialog, if necessary! We might become best friends and do other movie projects together as a screen team.
I stared trotting towards Gene. I could tell he wanted to talk to me and needed my advice. Don’t worry Gene, I’m here at last. I’ll save you! I got about twenty yards away, when a crowd came spilling into the lobby. I could briefly see the top of his head as at least 150 people came between, then . . . nothing!
Several of the film crew and security people came out to announce that we were all to report to our places so scene shooting could begin. I climbed to the outer stratosphere of Hinkle Field House to Row ZZZ, Seat 22, Section 300 so I could be ready for my scene. I’m proud to say that I remembered my lines, and when the second unit guy came up to my area and yelled through the bullhorn that my fellow actors needed to show more excitement and jump, yell, and clap more, I just told everyone around me to follow my lead. They were all grateful that I was there as I demonstrated the proper way to jump, yell, and clap!
The proof of my efforts is on screen. I have already stated the accolades that “Hoosiers” has acquired. It was honored with several Golden Globe and Academy Award nominations. It is a great film that, along with “Breaking Away” made it cool to be a Hoosier. As for the scenes that I shared with Gene, Dennis, Barbara, Sheb and the rest, they are among the most exciting and epic in screen history. The next time you are at Hinkle Fieldhouse go into the arena and look into the far top corner at Row ZZZ, Seat 22, Section 300. And you will say to yourself ”Man, that guy IS one heck of an actor!

What do the songs “Let the River Run,” “Things Have Changed,” “ It’s Hard Out There for a Pimp,” “Last Dance,” “It Might as Well be Spring, and “It Goes Like It Goes” all have in common? Well, friends and neighbors, they all won an Oscar for the Best Song in a Motion Picture. The Best Song category has always been kind of a tricky thing. A nominated song doesn’t necessarily have to be written expressly for the film in which it is performed. Neither does it have to be an integral part of the plot. The complete song doesn’t have to be sung during the film. A nominated song doesn’t have to be a part of the movie’s musical score…unless the artist who sings the song has also written part of the lyrics or music, they receive no Oscar if the song wins. For the first years of the category there was no limit to the amount of songs that could be nominated in a particular year. Confusing, right?
The first time an Oscar was awarded to a song was in 1934 which was the seventh Academy Awards ceremony. The song was  “The Continental” and it was from the movie The Gay Divorcee, a Fred and Ginger musical that has become a classic. Con Conrad wrote the music and Herb Magidson wrote the words. Ginger Rogers sang the song in the movie. By 1934, sound was the norm in films. Only Charlie Chaplin was still making silent movies. All singing and all dancing movie musicals were no longer a novelty and Depression weary audiences were flocking to the movie theaters to see them and enjoy a couple of hours of forgetfulness from the grim realities of the times. Most every American home had a radio, so a song could be heard in living rooms across the land, which also publicized the films they were connected with. The Motion Picture Academy decided it was time to give some recognition to the musical segment of the film industry, which was contributing to box office success.
During the first 16 years in which the Best Song Oscars were presented, the awards went to songs that were associated with musicals. The number of songs nominated in a given year changed. In the first two years of the award’s existence, only three songs were nominated. By the year 1938, ten songs were nominated. In 1939, “Over the Rainbow” won the Oscar. This song was the most popular Oscar winning songs of all time. In 1940, the Disney Studios won its first Best Song Oscar with “When You Wish upon A Star.” In 1942 the winning song was “White Christmas” from the movie Holiday Inn, probably the best known Oscar winning song of all time. In 1945, 14 songs were nominated in the Best Song category. The next year, 1946, the Academy changed the rules so that no more then five songs could be nominated in any given year. It’s been that way ever since.
In 1950, the song “Mona Lisa” won the Best Song Oscar. This was the first time that a song from a definite non-musical won. The song was from the film Captain Carey USA, a post-War spy thriller starring Alan Ladd. The song was a background theme for the movie and a cabaret singer performed it while Carey hooked up with an old flame in one sequence of the film. However, popular singer Nat “King” Cole made a cover version at the same time that went to number one on the Hit Parade and became a pop standard. Cole’s version wasn’t in the film, but it is responsible for the song winning the Oscar.
The 1950s and 60s were the golden age of musicals. With Technicolor, Panavision, CinemaScope, and Stereophonic Sound they were Hollywood’s most prized and acclaimed films of that era. One type of song that didn’t see any kind of Academy recognition was rock ‘n roll. That despised barbaric sound has pretty much been ignored by the Academy. Pop songs such as “Unchained Melody,” “April Love,” “Tammy,” or “Town Without Pity” have been nominated. “Moon River” even won in 1961, but rock music has been invisible to the Academy even if it was written for a film. “Jailhouse Rock” was the best song in a film in 1957, yet the Elvis Presley classic received nary a nomination or consideration that year. “Yesterday” by the Beatles was written for their 1965 film Help, yet it received no Academy Award consideration. About the closest the Academy has come to honoring a rock song was when Issac Hayes won the award for the “Theme from Shaft” in 1971. A disco pop tune “Last Dance,” sung by Donna Summer in the movie Thank God It’s Friday won the Best Song award in 1979. Actor Keith Carradine won an Oscar for writing the music and lyrics for “I’m Easy” for the movie Nashville in 1975. He also sang it in the film and remains the only member of the Carradine family to actually win any kind of Oscar.
In 1977 a film called You Light Up My Life was released to very little fanfare and quickly disappeared from movie screens after a disappointing box office performance. Debbie Boone, released a cover of the title song in the late summer of that year that quickly went to number one on the pop charts, and won a Grammy as best New Artist of the Year and became the top selling 45 record of the 70s.The song received an Oscar nomination. Debbie Boone sang it at the Oscar ceremony even though she didn’t sing it in the film. The song won the best Song of 1977 Oscar.
Beginning in the 1970s, musicals sort of disappeared from the movie screens. Grease, Flash Dance, Fame, Dirty Dancing and Footloose had musical themes and were very popular with theater audiences but as a genre, musicals were not being made in Hollywood. The Oscar-nominated songs of that period were usually written as theme music for drama  action, and comedy films. Stevie Wonder, Carly Simon, Lionel Ritchie, Bruce Springsteen, Phil Collins, Annie Lennox, Bob Dylan, Melissa Etheridge and Eminem have all won Oscars for movie songs they have written. Barbra Streisand became the first woman to receive a Best Song Oscar as a composer rather than a lyricist for “Evergreen” in 1976 from A Star is Born.
There have been years when there have been several outstanding songs nominated and years when it seemed that all the songs were duds. In 2011 only two songs were nominated. The song “Muppet or Man” won for the Movie The Muppets that year.
Veteran Hollywood song lyricist Sammy Cahn holds the record for most nominations for best song with 26. This, incidentally, is the most Oscar nominations for an individual in any Oscar category. Mr. Cahn won four Oscars. It took Randy Newman ten nominations in the category before he finally won a Best Song Oscar. He now has two Oscars on twelve nominations.
This year there is some controversy in the nominated songs. The song “Alone Yet not Alone” from the film of the same name was nominated in the Best song category. The composer was Bruce Broughton and lyrics by Dennis Spiegel. Mr. Broughton is a Governor of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. The nomination was revoked when it was discovered that Mr. Broughton had been politicking fellow Academy board members to support his nomination. Mr. Broughton, who is 68 years old has several Emmy Awards but has never won an Oscar. While he may have felt that time was running out for him, definitely should have known better.
There have been songs that have the Oscar that went on to relative obscurity and are long forgotten. There are songs such as “Unchained Melody,” which was nominated in 1955 but didn’t win, that have gone on to become American classics. There are songs that are happily remembered long after the movies that they first were heard in have been forgotten. As for this year, I predict that a song that I really don’t know much about will win the Oscar for 2013.

The article you are about to read is true, only the facts have been dramatized to protect the innocent . . . and make it more readable.
I watched Robert Redford as the Angel of Death the other night. He was 26 years old. About two weeks ago he was on a TV show as a murder suspect. He would have been 24 years old. Oddly enough he was a jewel thief that same night on another TV drama. James Caan and Martin Sheen were two New York City teenaged gang members on a Sunday night a few weeks back. Karen Black and Ellen Burstyn were respectively, a mentally unbalanced cowgirl and a nun of the Old West on a TV oater here a few nights back. Okay, so what the heck am I talking about? Well, it’s simple. It’s the nostalgia or “classic” television channels on cable television. Me TV, TV Land, Antenna TV, and Cozi TV are all available locally and showing Perry Mason, Dragnet, Big Valley, Route 66, Daniel Boone, Dobie Gillis, The Monkees, Thriller, The Alfred Hitchcock Hour, The Jack Benny Program, Emergency, The Untouchables, Bachelor Father, Burns and Allen, Kojak, Get Smart, Adam-12. I could go on and on. You can also go on line and see these programs  and a lot more on sites such as Hulu and Netflex.
However, certain television programs such as I Love Lucy, M*A*S*H, Twilight Zone, Gunsmoke, Bonanza, and The Andy Griffith Show have never really been off the air. They went into syndication almost immediately after their original broadcast runs concluded. They also were broadcast in color, or at least the later episodes. I know,   Twilight Zone was never in color but that was an exception. The fact that for a long time there was a feeling that younger viewers would  not watch back and white programs.
Of course the real fun of watching these shows from 30, 40, and 50 years ago is to see big stars, such as Redford, Dustin Hoffman, Burt Reynolds, Robert Duvall, Cloris Leachman, Warren Beatty, Doris Roberts, Ellen Burstyn, Susan Pleshette, Nick Nolte, and Sally Kellerman before they became big stars. It is truly amazing how many times actors such as Martin Milner, Henry Morgan, William Shallert, Harry Townes,  Leonard Nimoy, Marian Ross and Captain Kirk himself William Shatner appear in these programs as guest stars. Watching Jack Nicholson guest star on the Andy Griffith Show is a real hoot.
So now I am watching Perry Mason, Dragnet, Adam-12, and Alfred Hitchcock on a regular basis. I also frequently watch The Monkees, The Rifleman, and Route 66. It’s fun and the shows are easy to follow. While it’s true that I sometimes flash back to my youthful days while I’m viewing these TV episodes it’s really not a hankering to relive my past that sparks my interest in them, because you see, I really didn’t watch these shows when I was young and they were first broadcast. Well…uh…I admit I did watch Twilight Zone on Friday nights, and Alfred Hitchcock, but generally not the rest.
If you have access to these channels  you might give them get them an occasional look, you might be surprised at how much fun they really are and they might bring back some pleasant memories.

“Door gunning. They’re losing helicopters and they need door gunners.” — Philip Roth, The Human Stain
I am a pool player who has played in organized leagues for years. I know little about the players with whom I shoot because we seldom have conversations that branch outside of the playing of the game. But I hear stories told, and I tell my own. A recent story of mine was about being a psychiatric attendant in a mental hospital, and when I recounted the tale of a coworker who had “rolled around in the mud” in Bethel, New York, in August 1969, a teammate had this to say: “I was rolling in the mud in Vietnam when I saw the movie ‘Woodstock.’”
It has often been said that the people who have truly fought, with some exceptions, are the last to tell the stories of war; Vietnam veterans are the quietest of the “silent warfighters.” When you hear boasts in bars, it is almost certain that they do not come from the real warriors. But suppressed memories and bottled-up emotions create pressures that sometimes produce leaks from these human containers, and such was the case with my teammate, Larry Mayes.
I had heard Larry make some references to Vietnam before; his comments were low-key, offhand. When I asked if I could interview him, he readily agreed. I gave him a sample of what he called “classic questions” about the Vietnam experience, and we met at restaurants to talk about a life lived.
Larry Mayes graduated from Arlington High School in 1968, and, having written a paper about it, was a believer in the “domino theory.” The year 1968 was pivotal in the Vietnam “conflict” (which seemed to be a “war” to those who fought in it) and images of South Vietnamese General Nguyen Ngoc Loan’s execution of a Viet Cong prisoner dominated the front pages of the nation’s newspapers. Larry went to college but when he did not maintain a full load, the Selective Service board called up number 167: his. In July 1970, Larry began a phase of his life that affects him even today.
“From my mother’s sleep I fell into the State …” — Randall Jarrell, “The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner”
“I didn’t grow up around guns, didn’t have much to do with them, but (at boot camp) I qualified as ‘expert,’” Larry told me. His MOS (Military Occupational Specialty) was 72 Bravo: Communications Center Specialist. But 8 months before his 21st birthday (and coincidentally, just at the beginning of a major south Vietnamese offensive aimed at severing the Ho Chi Minh trail, an effort that ultimately resulted in the loss of more than 100 U.S. helicopters), a recruiter offered a bonus for another year of service and a different MOS. “I couldn’t afford to buy my wife an engagement ring,” Larry said. He had only been married for three weeks before he reported to boot camp. “I wanted to buy her that ring.” For $85 more a month, he became a helicopter door gunner.
Larry’s service lasted until July 1973. It took him 15 years to get to the point where he could tell his mother something about what his job had been. “I just didn’t want to worry her. I couldn’t tell her,” he said.  But while in the arms of “the State,” and stationed in south central southern Vietnam at Bien Hoa Air Base, Larry lifted off the ground in a Bell UH-1 helicopter gunship. He crouched behind a gun thrust through the open door; a “monkey strap” helped him to climb back into the chopper when he was bounced out. Flying in support of troop movements, Larry rode the Huey to the ground five times; three times when “it just quit,” and twice due to gunfire.
“You know they shot down five thousand helicopters during that war?” — Philip Roth, The Human Stain
“It takes a special kind of person to look a man in the eye and pull the trigger.” We had been discussing the ownership and use of personal firearms. Larry paused, looked away, and then finished, “I was above all that, in the air.” While on the ground, when bombs fell, he learned to “get out (of the hooch), run around and get to the sandbags.” He brought this lesson home with him, startling his wife with the behavior. “I was a lot more messed up than I realized, at the time.” Larry said that it took him about ten years to shake off the effects of his war service, which may have contributed to the fracturing of his first marriage. He wandered through jobs — stockbroker, insurance salesman, restaurant owner and manager, small engine mechanic — until the urgings of his mother and other family members took hold. He was a 35 year-old college graduate when he found his true vocation: teaching.
“People tell you to find what you love and do it, and I did. I never had a bad day, teaching.” He taught Industrial Arts in the Monrovia School District and was at one point the athletic director of the school. He retired in 2010.
I asked Larry if he felt that Vietnam Vets were being given the proper respect for their service. He told me that he believed that two events galvanized the nation into recognizing the contributions of servicemen from that time: the Lebanese hostage crisis in 1989 and the first Desert Storm. He saw more overt expressions of respect and consideration as an outgrowth of those two incidents. “People are more likely to recognize ‘service,’ and to thank you for it.”
“Kids fight wars.” – Larry Mayes
Larry lost his second bride to illness, but he has three children — a son and two daughters – and 5 grandchildren. He went to war as a door gunner, came back in 1973 as Sgt. Mayes, went into education and became “Coach”; he is now grandfather to his children’s children. His business — the artful crafting of wooden bowls — is named for how his grandchildren address him: Papa Larry’s Bowls. Although the Vietnam war is still a part of him — he was close to tears on a couple of occasions as we spoke, he has a disability as a result of exposure to Agent Orange, he can still recognize the sound of a Huey overhead, and he wouldn’t let recruiters near his students — I believe that he has found a measure of peace. And there are five words we can utter to give him great satisfaction: “Thank you for your service.”
I did not press Larry for details of his service. He was an expert in firearms and he was a door gunner. I am certain that whatever I might imagine would be infinitely less than what he lived. But I did search for Larry’s voice in the writing of his story. I asked him what he wanted to say, and this was it:
“My country called, and I served. That’s it in a nutshell.”
But of course, that is not “it in a nutshell,” and before we left Goody’s restaurant, I said this to the door gunner, Sgt. Mayes, Papa Larry:
“Thank you for your service.”

October 31 is All Hallow’s Eve, the day before November 1 which is All Saints Day, a very sacred day in the tradition of the Catholic Church. So where did Halloween come from? About 3,500 B.C., the Celts, Gauls and other Germanic tribes of Northern and Western Europe developed into agrarian societies with farming and crop cultivation as their principle food sources. The  summer and winter solstices and vernal and autumnal equinox were extremely important in the planning of their year, telling them when to plant, how much time was left until harvest and when should it be completed. The day of final harvest was a day of celebration. It also marked the end of their year, the death of summer and warm weather and preparations for the snows of winter. Samhain was the death of summer and the night of the dead. It was believed that on that night, which was October 31, the spirits of all those who had died the previous year would walk the earth one final time before their journey to the nether regions, some to exact vengeance on their living enemies. It was also a time when demons, ghouls, and evil entities rose from the dark pits of the underworld to wreak havoc upon the unwary. There were no pumpkins in Europe at this time so some folks would hollow out gourds and onions and carve scary faces on them to frighten off the evil spirits. They would also leave food and baked items out to bribe the things that go bump in the night to leave their huts in peace. Sacrifices were also made to appease the old gods and gain their favor for their coming new year. There is no truth to the story that children or young virgins were used in the ceremonies. Ram, deer, lambs, pigs. and cattle were used.
When Christianity took hold in medieval Europe, the Church attempted to incorporate many of the old pagan rituals into holy rites. All Saints Day was created to honor all the saints and martyrs with feasting and celebration. Samhain became All Hallows Eve, the night when Saturn and all the evils of the earth were banished for one day to purify it for the holy celebration that came at the dawn. Samhain is still celebrated by modern day Druids at Stonehenge and other sites on October 31, so it is still alive in the traditions of some of us. So with that I will wish you a very safe and enjoyable Samhain!

Remember the phone number prefix Melrose or Fleetwood? If you do, then you were probably born before 1960. I remember our number was Melrose (ML) 22962. We had the big old heavy black rotary phone. That phone was heavy enough to be used as a weapon if anyone broke in. The clicking sound as you dialed was very soothing. The receiver was nice and big and easy to hold and you knew right where to talk into it. We had a party line like most people in the 50s, and you knew your ring: 2 shorts and a long or 3 shorts. You could eavesdrop on someone’s line if they didn’t hear you pick up, but I never did that! I miss those old phones … and we only had one in the house and it was attached with a cord so you couldn’t carry it around. They even made little phone tables for them — very stylish.
I remember when the push button phones came about and it was kinda cool with the assorted colored phones. You could get a “princess phone” which even came in pink! There were phones that hung on the wall and had the push buttons in the handle which was very modern at the time.
Then of course cordless came along and  — wow! — you could carry it everywhere. We have one that I think is about 25 years old and we just retired it to the upstairs hall. Still works, but won’t stay charged.
And now we all have cell phones — I still have a couple of friends who refuse to get one just on the principle of the thing. Who needs to be found every moment of every day? I, of course, need my cell phone and now that I’ve had one over 5 years, I wouldn’t go without one, but they are annoying. I can barely see the numbers to dial and it has all kinds of functions and icons on the screen that I have no idea what they mean and I have no intention of learning. As long as I can get my messages and make calls to the family, I’m content with what little I know. My brain can’t hold another set of instructions. If these phones get any smaller we won’t be able to find them at all.
Do you realize that so many people don’t have land lines now, and there is no directory to find them?
And where did phone booths go? Superman would be hard-pressed to find one now. Even the few pay phones left in the world rarely work — and how much is a call now?
And please don’t get me started on texting  — I don’t want to learn and I don’t want to do it. My son only texts people — I don’t think he ever actually talks to his friends.
Update 2024: I now have an iPhone like most everyone (it’s old at 7) but it still works and I’ve never cracked it’s screen, lost it or dropped it in the toilet (knock on wood!). Mostly because I seldom carry it on my person — my daughter had to buy clothes with big pockets so she is never without hers. I only use it to call or text people and it takes darn good pictures. It’s a shame I seldom use my good 35mm camera because of that.
I still don’t know what all those icons mean on it and I really don’t want to learn. I’m on Facebook, but seldom post and just want to see photos of what my grandkids are up to this week and what my country cousin Barbara cooked for dinner (I love fried okra).
My weekly usage report says I average 30 minutes a day usually. When I go into a doctor’s office and see everyone, but everyone, on their phones, I wonder what is so fascinating. I’d rather talk to a person sitting near me or check out a magazine.
It makes me crazy when I see couples out having dinner and both are on their phones — I bet they’re texting each other.
My biggest pet peeve is people texting while driving or sitting at a stop light and not looking up until the light has turned red and you’re afraid to honk or they might shoot you! Also  pedestrians walking down the street or crossing the street looking at their phones — no wonder so many pedestrians hit by cars.
I’m afraid our young people are going to never learn how to have a really good conversation with their fellow man.
Unfortunately, I usually only just get short grunt responses from my teenage granddaughter, but my 10 year old grandson talks my ear off (no cell phone yet).  I miss the great conversations I had with my granddaughter when she was 3 or 4 and we were sitting in her tent in the playroom— she told me she wanted to be an astronaut and go to Mars or a crop duster (her Dad had a single-engine plane).
Now the big controversy is cell phones used by students in the classroom. The parents want to be able to contact the child if pick up has changed or in emergencies. My suggestion is to hang shoe holders on the back wall of the classroom with enough shoe slots to hold their phone (names on the slots). At breaktime or recess they can check their phones — otherwise no phones at their desks. If the class is large it’s gonna be a congested mess at the shoe holders, but most classrooms nowadays don’t have huge amounts of students — unlike when I was teaching in the 70s and averaged 35 to 40 kids per classroom. Another problem is cyberbullying and it’s a shame that kids can text horrible things to each other that they could never say out loud.
Anyway, even though cell phones keep us in touch with our loved ones and friends, we need to stop and look around and appreciate our surroundings — hear the birds chirp or the old saying stop and smell the roses!

Remember the Hula Hoop?  I   sure do — I enjoyed hours of fun with it. I can remember my own personal record of keeping it up for half an hour. I hung my hands on the clothes line stretched across the backyard. I was really good at it and everyone I knew could at least keep it up a few minutes. As an adult I’ve participated in a couple of contests — one at a company picnic where it was down to me and the bosses’ wife and they made us walk spinning the hoop and she lost it, but I kept on going. (Maybe I should have lost that one.) Another time at a fancy awards dinner for the Hoosier Press, they had the contest and I won hands down. The young people couldn’t do it. You have to go slowly and keep the rhythm.
I Googled “Hula Hoop” and found some interesting facts. It started with the ancient Greeks who  played with it both as a toy and an exercise device. Native American Indians have used the hoop in many ways. They rolled it on the ground and shot arrows through it to practice accuracy, and it was used in dances. Hoop-rolling also achieved fad status in England in the 1800s. Those hoops were wood fitted with metal strips or tires on the outer edge. This same fad traveled to the United States, and antique hoops are now favorite collector’s toys. The 50s toy known as the Hula Hoop was born out of the brainstorm of two American toy inventors who learned about an Australian practice. Arthur “Spud” Melin and Richard Knerr heard that Australian children used rings made of bamboo for exercise. They produced a plastic hoop in 1958 and promoted it around the Los Angeles, California, area by going to playgrounds, demonstrating the hoop to the kids, and giving away Hula Hoops. I think that’s the year I got my first hula hoop.
In four months, over 25 million Hula Hoops were sold in the United States for $1.98 each; worldwide, over 100 million were sold in 1958 alone. In Japan, the hoop was banned, and the Soviet Union described it as evidence of the decadence of American culture. At the peak of its popularity, Wham-O, Inc. produced 20,000 hoops per day; it is estimated that the plastic tubing for all the Hula Hoops sold would stretch around the world more than five times.
I also saw several Web sites giving the weight loss and exercise benefits of our little ‘ole Hula Hoop.
I’ve got to go dig out my Hula Hoop and see if I can get some thickness off this waist of mine. I’ll let ya know if it works.
Update from when this was first published 14 years ago: No my waistline has only grown  larger. But I did ask for a new hula hoop about 10 years ago for my birthday, because I saw a really cool handmade one at one of those fancy Farmers Markets with vendors selling very pricey items (they are labor intensive items I understand). My daughter bought it for me – price is no object to her (didn’t inherit my penny pinching gene). It is 45” in diameter almost to my neck in height and it’s weighted – BEST hula hoop I’ve ever used! I can still keep it up for as long as I can stand up.

The fact that Indiana is considered the mother state of vice presidents has been discussed in this newspaper before. Indiana Governor Mike Pence’s campaign for the office has brought a great deal of attention to that office during this election cycle. But how many times has a vice president from Indiana ever reached the office of president? The answer is never. In fact, a vice president has only seceded to the presidency on the death or removal of a sitting president on nine occasions. Teddy Roosevelt was the first vice president to take office on the death of a president, William McKinley,  and then also elected president in his own right.
John Adams, the first vice president, said of his office “My country, in it’s wisdom, has contrived for me the most insignificant office that ever in the invention of man contrived or his imagination conceived.”
Daniel Webster was offered the office, but refused saying “If the Vice President were not the President of the Senate, he would be without employment.”
Thomas Marshall, one of the Indiana vice presidents said, “There once were two brothers. One  went off to sea. The other was elected vice president of the United Stares. Neither were ever heard from again.”
John Nance Garner, the VP under Franklin Roosevelt said, “The Office of Vice President is not worth a bucket of warm p***!” The quote was changed to “spit” so as to not offend.
The first vice president to become chief executive on the death of a president was John Tyler. Tyler was a southern Democrat who disagreed with his party on the issue of free trade. He became the running mate of Whig candidate William Henry Harrison. They never met each other. Tyler had an difficult relationship with his cabinet. In fact, they tried to say that Tyler was just an acting president until Congress could appoint another Whig. The courts backed Tyler’s claim that he was indeed the president. He served out the term, although he accomplished nothing and was considered one of our least effective presidents.
When Millard Fillmore took office on the death of President Zachary Taylor, he admitted that he had only spoken to Taylor on one occasion and that was to congratulate him on his inauguration. When Benjamin Harrison bumped into his vice president Levi P. Morton, he didn’t recognize him. Andrew Jackson and his vice president John C. Calhoun despised each other. Calhoun challenged Jackson to a duel for insulting his wife because she was not invited to a White House dinner. Cabinet members intervened and the duel was called off. Aaron Burr, who was Jefferson’s vice president had to flee the country after killing Alexander Hamilton in a duel.
Gerald Ford was the last vice president to assume the presidency. He took office after President Nixon’s resignation. Ford pardoned Nixon so he would not have to officially answer to any Watergate inquiry. The pardon stained his presidency and he was not elected. There were two assassination attempts on Ford’s life — the most since Lincoln.
Chester Arthur was a Republican Party official in New York City. Under President Grant he was appointed Commissioner of the New York Port Authority. With all the graft and bribes that the office pulled in, it was considered a license to print money. When President Rutherford Hayes took office he passed an anti-corruption policy and Arthur was one of the first to get the boot. Ironically, four years later, James Garfield was the Republican nominee and chose Arthur as his running mate. Eight months into his presidency, Garfield died from an assassin’s bullet and Arthur took office. During his administration Arthur contracted Bright’s Disease and almost didn’t make to the end of his term. He died just a few weeks after his term was completed, Controversy swirled around Arthur from the beginning: Rumor had it he was an infant when his parents lived in Toronto, Canada, and he had been born there. That would have made him ineligible to be president. The charge has never been proven one way or the other.
Jimmy Carter was the first president to give the vice president a role in his administration. He had Walter Mondale advise him on dealing with Congress and Mondale sat in cabinet meetings. It’s claimed that Dick Cheney was the de facto president under W. Bush. Cheney had more power than any other vice president ever. Joe Biden has played an important role in the Obama administration.