Blogs for Frank Scoblete | Frank Scoblete

He Has a Girlfriend!

This past weekend I went to a Yankees versus Texas Rangers game. Yanks lost 8 to 1 but Aaron Judge hit a home run so the day wasn’t a total loss. He’s the most exciting player to hit baseball since Mike Trout.

This was my first time at the new Yankee Stadium. As a kid (long ago at an age far, far away) I used to inhabit the old Yankee Stadium; you know the one, where the center field distance was 490 feet and to hit a homer to left center (or even right center) took the power of a DiMaggio, Gehrig, Mantle or Ruth. Centerfield was known as “death valley.” When Maris had his 61-homerun streak, I attended 23 games. To my way of thinking, Maris set a “real” record, as he was steroid-free, unlike Barry Bonds and some others.

I was with my wife the Beautiful AP and Jerry “Stickman” and his wife the Sainted Tres. It was the last – number 30 – of the baseball stadiums Stickman and I visited in our Baseball Odyssey. Our wives joined us at a number of the ballparks and were certain to be at this capstone game.

We had $300 seats – yes 600 bucks to watch a Yankee game in seats that would cost about $60 to $90 in other stadiums. And $$$$$ to pay for our limo – way, way, too, too much.

Our seats were in row 15 over first base dugout, in the shade of the overhang. These comfortable seats were padded, two together, separated from the next two seats by a table, and you could order food that was delivered to you – food that cost the equivalent of what right-handed hitters faced in the old stadium, a helluva lot! And that is New York: a beautiful baseball stadium plopped in a ghetto and prices that are ridiculous.

The high ticket prices, however, could not keep away the worst fans ever. You know them; they’re the ones whose antics pull your attention away from the field and onto themselves.

In this case it was the beer-guzzling, 20-something man/boy who was compelled to yell out the name of a player followed by “you suck.”

“Natoli, you suck!”

“Beltre, you suck!”

Once per player was not enough, nor twice, nor three times. It was over and over and over again, throughout the entire game.

His target was not only Texas Rangers. He even threw a few Yanks in there as well, especially pitcher Tyler Clippard who seemed to suck more than all the players combined as poor Clippard gave up hit after hit and run after run in the game, “Clippard! You suck! You suck! You suck!” He was proud of that last load of “you suck” because, “He heard me that time.”

I asked Stickman, Tres and AP, “Can you believe he belongs to the same species that achieved space flight?” Still later I asked incredulously, “Can you believe he came from the same species that discovered penicillin?”

After a particularly loud and pointed, “You suck,” hurled at a Texas Ranger, this guy’s girlfriend squealed at his amazing wit. Yes, he has a girlfriend. They will reproduce one day and his mini-me will be weaned on baseball, beer and boorishness.

It sucks, doesn’t it?

The Twenty

People like to make lists. Well, I like to make lists and assume that there are others who share this predilection. Here are the 20 titles of books or plays (in no particular order) that I have found immensely enjoyable, insightful, impactful and timeless. While my wife agreed with a number of them, she strongly (and vociferously) disagreed with a few. I gently pointed out to her that she can make her own list. Women!

Although plays are meant to be seen and not read, I invite you to read any of the following that you have not yet encountered:

1. Hamlet (best piece of literature I ever read)
2. Huckleberry Finn (best American novel I ever read)
3. King Lear
4. The Canterbury Tales
5. Cyrano De Bergerac
6. The Great Gatsby
7. A Farewell to Arms
8. To Kill a Mockingbird
9. Dune
10. Macbeth
11. The Old Man and the Sea
12. All Quiet on the Western Front
13. Pride and Prejudice
14. 1984
15. The Boys in the Boat
16. River of Doubt
17. The Taming of the Shrew
18. Native Son
19. A Tale of Two Cities
20. Bonfire of the Vanities

Camera Shy

“They are smart,” said my wife the Beautiful AP. “This can’t be just coincidence.”

I agreed with her. We were talking about Hooded Mergansers but such applies to almost all birds. They are smart.

Too many ornithologists come down on the side of birds just being creatures of instinct with no real intelligence. My wife and I have two parrots and let me tell you, they are both intelligent. In fact, more often than not, they outsmart me. Their goal in a day is to manipulate me; my goal is to be left alone so I can do my work. They often – quite often – win.

I guess you can say that for the Beautiful AP and for me, birds have passed our version of the Turing Test. This test was created by Alan Turing to determine if a being were actually intelligent or just a machine of some kind.

According to Turing, if a machine responds as if it were intelligent, then indeed it is intelligent. Anyway that’s what Turing’s test tries to show. I’ve just extended it to animals and birds. I agree that there are instincts (or unconscious programs) but intelligence is there, in some cases (as in parrots) that intelligence is pretty high. I assume other animals pass the Turing Test too. I am not saying animal/bird intelligence is equivalent to human intelligence; just that those minds are working.

“So why can’t I ever get Hooded Mergansers?” AP whined.

She was right. Every time we saw Hooded Mergansers they were always on the other side of the lake. We’d then walk around the lake – even a far walk – and as soon as we got to where the Hooded Mergansers had been, those rotten birds were now on the side of the lake from where we just came.

This didn’t happen just once or twice but multiple times in multiple places both on Long Island and in Cape May. Come on, they had to know they were busting the Beautiful AP’s chops. Maybe these birds had some kind of psychic connection to each other as in, “That dumb photographer is heading to Cape May from Long Island. Let’s screw around with her as our LI brethren have done. Awk! Awk!” (“Awk! Awk!” is the derisive laugh of birds.)

Next, we have a couple of Cardinals who come to our three feeders quite often. Cardinals are magnificently colored creatures; red as red can be – the males that is. The females are far plainer, but still quite pretty.

But the Beautiful AP cannot get a picture of this magnificent male bird. He will be on the feeder, beaking his food, when AP positions the camera to capture him in all his glory and then – the stinking bird will scoot over to the other side of the feeder where he can’t be seen.

“Damn! Damn it!” says AP.

The bird now peaks its head around the feeder at her. You can see it looking at her. But as soon as she lifts the camera, Mr. Cardinal scoots around back again. This does not happen with the host of Sparrows, the many Blackbirds, Blue Jays, Woodpeckers, Grackles, Mourning Doves, Tufted Tit Mice, and Black Capped Chickadees. These birds just eat and swiftly fly away when a cat crouches to kill them. No, just those miserable male Cardinals play this nerve-wracking game.

When the Cardinal was in a bush or tree, every time she lifted the camera, the damn bird would scoot behind a leaf, a branch, a feeder – anything to hide himself.

No one should ever think a bird’s brain is just a birdbrain.

AP is undeterred. She plans to have an exhibit of her bird photos in less than a year and vows to have great shots of Cardinals, Hooded Mergansers and other smarty-pants birds in the display. If I know my wife, she will prevail.

“’You must do the things you think you cannot do,’” AP said thunderously, quoting Eleanor Roosevelt.

I could be a smarty-pants myself. “’I can resist anything but temptation,’” quoting Oscar Wilde. Then I poured myself a drink.

[Read Frank Scoblete’s books I Am a Card Counter: Inside the World of Advantage-Play Blackjack, I Am a Dice Controller: Inside the World of Advantage-Play Craps and Confessions of a Wayward Catholic! All available from Amazon.com, on Kindle and electronic media, at Barnes and Noble, and at bookstores.]

Miami Is Another Country

In New York City you have different neighborhoods some dominated by Italians, some by Jews, some by Germans, some by Afro-Americans, some by Puerto Ricans, some by Irish, some by Indians and some by a whole combination of these and more ethnic groups. While you might hear foreign languages in many places, there are so many of them in New York that the City has true diversity – although diversity has no inherently good moral quality.

Not so with Miami.

When people call the city “little Cuba” they mean it. The U.S. Census has Miami’s Latin / Hispanic population at 70 percent (some define themselves as Hispanic white or Hispanic black), while almost 20 percent of the population is Afro-American.

About 22 percent of the population is Catholic, although a full 60 percent of the population considers itself non-religious. While the state of Florida is sometimes called “little Israel,” only a shade over one percent in Miami are Jewish. (In New York City we have a rapidly shrinking “little Italy,” a little “Chinatown,” a “little Korea,” a “little India,” a little Beirut – for the lower streets of Bay Ridge – and on it goes. Hey, in New York, you get a “little” of something or other all the time!)

Spanish seems to be the dominant language, which pleased my wife the Beautiful A.P. as she speaks Spanish. As for me, I just stand there smiling as she enjoys conversation after conversation. She could be talking to someone about his family being murdered and I stand there with a goofy grin on my face. I am sure some Miamians thought I was a total idiot.

In Miami I was in a different country, a vacation-touristy-type country, meaning a pretty Latin American or island country given the weather, the Palm trees, the ocean, the sands, the Spanish speakers and the architecture; plus all the beautiful people, those tanned men and tanned women posing in skimpy bathing suits at the beaches (particularly South Beach), or at the pools, often holding drinks in their hands as if they were in commercials.

Being there in late September was – to put it frankly – awful, absolutely awful. The temperatures hovered in the high 80’s and low 90’s, while the humidity was at steam bath levels. I sweated like crazy. Maybe that’s why so many of the beautiful people walked around almost naked. Even some of the non-beautiful people were almost naked too – not a pleasant sight.

We stayed at the Sonesta Bayfront Hotel in Coconut Grove.

https://www.sonesta.com/coconutgrove/

I had already stayed at a Sonesta in Baltimore and loved its old world, classy style. The Coconut Grove Sonesta at first seemed less appealing but by the third day I loved the place. It was clean, had a great restaurant, pool and terrific views from one’s room. Our traveling companions Jerry “Stickman” and his wife the Lovely Tres, along with the Beautiful A.P. and I would sit on our adjoining balconies, watch the sunsets, the ocean, while drinking fine wines.

Our meals went from good to great; from gourmet to not-so gourmet. The first night we ate at Bombay Darbar (http://www.bombaydarbarrestaurant.com/), an exceptional Indian restaurant. The following day we ate lunch at a good Cuban restaurant in South Beach, Puerto Sagua. https://plus.google.com/104335181789256454187/about?gl=us&hl=en

Thankfully I did not go into the men’s room at Sagua until after lunch. It was covered in graffiti – with graffiti on top of graffiti (all of it un-artistic). The stall toilet was covered in shit and someone had taken a small dump in the urinal. The place stunk. Had I gone to the bathroom before lunch I would have left the restaurant.

Prior to eating at Puerto Sagua, we toured South Beach with Art Deco Tours with Christine and Company. (http://www.artdecotours.com/) Christine is a vivacious young woman with a true love for Miami and her tour was excellent. I recommend it highly.

That night we ate at a French restaurant La Plame d’Or at the Biltmore Hotel. http://www.biltmorehotel.com/dining/palme_dor.php. Terrific gourmet with excellent ambience.

One of the reasons we went to Miami was for Stickman and me to attend a Tampa Bay Rays’ baseball game and a Miami Marlins’ baseball game. So on Sunday morning Stickman and I headed to Tampa Bay (St. Petersburg) – a four-hour trip from Miami – to watch Tampa Bay take on the Baltimore Orioles.

We had breakfast at Sonesta’s excellent Panorama restaurant and at 8am off we went. The wives would have their day in Miami; while we’d be continuing our baseball odyssey.

Going to Tampa Bay became an ordeal. Suddenly, out of nowhere (so to speak) I had to go to the bathroom; go urgently, as in the saying, “If I don’t go now I will explode in the car.”

“Jerry,” I said, holding myself in. “Pull over. I can’t hold this.” Jerry Stickman pulled over and I squatted beside the car. EXPLOSION! The road we were on went through the Everglades so there were no houses anywhere; just swamps and grasses and small trees as far as the eye could see, with a stream running beside the road. There was a big, electrified fence between the side of the road (where I squatted) and the stream. It didn’t dawn on me just then why such an electrified fence was there. EXPLOSION!

The cars coming towards us on our side of the highway could catch a glimpse of me squatting the way the Japanese squat over their floor-level toilets. EXPLOSION!

“Aaaaarrrrrggghhhhh,” I said inside myself. What could I do? Cars flashed by. (“Mommy, that man is showing his rear end.” “Timmy don’t look.” “Oh God, Sarah, he just blew a big one onto the ground!”)

As I was finishing up, I noticed it – an alligator, a BIG nasty-looking alligator, staring at me from the stream parallel to the road. Oh, my God, I was already embarrassed by the fact that I had dumped my brains out; now I would be eaten by an alligator. I could see the headlines: “Famous Writer Eaten by Alligator after Having Loose Bowel Movement on the Side of the Road!”

As I pulled my pants up, I realized now why the electrified fence had been erected – to protect humans from alligators!

Getting in the car, Stickman said, “Well, that’s a first for me!”

“I’m mortified.”

“On we go!” he said.

Ten minutes later, I said: “I gotta go again.”

“There’s a rest area coming up,” said Stickman.

We made it and I made it too. EXPLOSION!

We had to stop a third time at a gas station and I literally battled several elderly men to get into a stall. “You son of a bitch,” said one old guy I pushed aside. EXPLOSION! “Oh, man; oh, Christ,” said another man. “You smell that?” EXPLOSION!

Thankfully, the gas station had a sundry store with a mountain of Imodium piled high on the counter. Evidently I was not the only one to experience what I had been experiencing. I took two.

“I think I will be all right,” I said.

“This has been a first for me,” said Jerry again.

“I’ll never live this down.”

“Can’t wait to read what you write about this,” said Jerry Stickman.

“You crazy? I’m not writing about this.”

The Tampa Bay game was fun. Stickman bought us Diamond Club seats. You had your own private club with all sorts of food and drinks, all covered by your ticket fee. Jerry had a great time; eating and drinking and eating and drinking and eating a little fruit and a huge stack of cookies for dessert – he got his money’s worth. I ate a couple of cookies fearing anything more might start me going again. Those were the most expensive cookies I ever ate.

We got back to Miami around 8:30pm; sat on our balcony with our wives and as he poured the wine Jerry said, “Frank has a great story ladies. It was an amazing trip to Tampa Bay.”

“Oh, yeah, I really wish you could have come along,” I said. They were anxious to hear about our wonderful trip – and I told them. Their faces went from anxious to horrified. Evidently I can tell a great story.

The Beautiful A.P. and the Lovely Tres left Miami early Monday morning. Jerry Stickman and I stayed in order to go to the Miami Marlin’s game that night.

Now I must admit this. I have a small quirk in my personality. I love to go to aquariums when I visit a city. Lately, I’ve dragged Jerry to aquariums in Chicago, Memphis, Baltimore and Hawaii, among others. So today we would go to Miami’s Seaquarium. (http://miamiseaquarium.com/)

We took our wives to the airport at 5am, went back to Sonesta, finished our evening’s interrupted sleep, had breakfast and headed out to Seaquarium.

Of course, the day was brutally hot and drippingly humid. We figured the aquarium would be indoors and therefore air conditioned. That had saved us in a hot, humid Honolulu, Hawaii. We’d relax, watch the fish swim; in short, have a comfortable indoor day.

The Miami Seaquarium was outdoors.

It was not the typical aquarium with indoor rooms filled with tanks of various sizes; instead it was a world of shows. Jerry and I saw the Sea Lion Show (great fun), the Killer Whale and Dolphin Show (spectacular – and by the way, Killer Whales – also known as Orcas – are not whales but dolphins) and the Dolphin Show (disappointing). We also visited the weird looking Manatees (often thought to be mermaids – ugly as hell mermaids) and watched them eat bushels of lettuce. We saw giant sea turtles and a whole area of alligators – an animal now associated with the worst crap of my life.

It was a fun time.

Now let me tell you about Jerry “Stickman’s” quirk. He is an eater of food that I would normally avoid. He loves fast food chains (the man even eats White Castle!) and he watches shows like “Diners, Drive-ins and Dives” and “Burger Land with George Motz.” Jerry is also a world traveler. He and the Lovely Tres probably spend as much time on the road as they do at home. I think he has been to about two-thirds of the countries in the world. He’s been to every state too. One of Jerry’s favorite activities when he travels in America and Canada is to visit the recommended restaurants on those shows. Sooooo…

We went into Little Havana to eat lunch at El Rey De Las Fritas, a highly recommended restaurant where we would eat a supposedly unique Frita.

http://southflorida.menupages.com/restaurants/el-rey-de-las-fritas-2/menu

Little Havana is a sad area of Miami. Just about every house and store had safety bars on the doors and windows. Still, Jerry and I had the greatest Frita! I have never tasted a hamburger like that. So if you are in Miami check this place out. The restaurant was clean and it is in a little shopping center.

Got back to the hotel, took a nap and then headed for the Marlins’ ballgame. We were two of about 3,000 fans. Miami is not a baseball town.

That was our trip. It was a fun four-day visit (except for when I was you-know-whating).

What Happened to the Negro League?

This is really a sensitive – as in very sensitive – issue, and I don’t want anyone to misunderstand what and why I am writing this. It is about how a really good thing – a thing that had to be done – can also have unintended bad consequences. (The good thing outweighs the bad consequences here but the bad exists nevertheless.)

I just finished watching the movie 42 which I enjoyed. I saw Jackie Robinson play — I was really, really young — and my father had nothing but praise for the man. I remember my father saying, “It takes courage to do what he is doing.” My father was a Jackie Robinson fan. I only had a vague idea of what he was talking about.

I even had some conversations once with Roy Campanella, who was injured in a terrible automobile accident. I worked as a maintenance man in the Smith Houses in Manhattan for four summers as a high school and college student and that is where I met him. He was paralyzed and in a wheelchair. By then I knew what he and the other black pioneers had meant to major league baseball. It meant the joy of watching Willie Mays and Hank Aaron in the outfield.

“Campy” joined the Brooklyn Dodgers just after Robinson broke the color barrier.

And now for the sensitive part of this article: Whatever happened to the ball players from the Negro leagues that were not good enough to make the major leagues? What happened to the white players who were replaced by the better black players?

I know the Negro Leagues ended soon after the integration of major league baseball. I know most of their players did not make the major leagues. I know the white players who were replaced by better black players did not play in the majors once the color barrier was broken.

The good was accompanied by the end of employment for those who would have played professional baseball but were now just not talented and skilled enough to make it all the way to the new, and better, major leagues.

American baseball today has players from all over the world; South America, Mexico, Canada, Latin America, Cuba, Japan. The painting of today’s major leagues is a medley of colors and ethnic groups. The best of the best will face off against each other for 162 games.

Yes, integration was good for the quality of the game (and for our society) but it had a cost – as many good things have costs – and we must recognize that getting better does not make everyone become part of that betterment. That is why I am a firm supporter of those Negro league museums. We mustn’t forget those guys, especially the great ones who never got to the major leagues because of racism or the ones just not good enough to get there once the game opened its doors.

Naked in the Bathroom

He was naked. In the handicap stall. In the men’s room. Sitting on the toilet. At Bally’s in Atlantic City. You could see in the stall because the door was not flush. He was Asian. Naked.

The great dice controller Jerry “Stickman” and I were on our Odyssey in Atlantic City. The Odyssey is a single day where we pool our money, and go to all the casinos on the Boardwalk (now just five of them as opposed to the 12 in AC’s glory days), where we play one hand of Pai Gow Poker, two hands of blackjack, two hands of mini-baccarat, $40 in a $5 slot machine (one credit per decision) and we each take the dice two times at the casinos whose tables fit our criteria — we have to get our spots and we want 12-foot, standard-bounce tables. If we can’t get that we skip playing craps.

Naturally, except for craps, we are not playing with an edge at any of these games. We don’t wait for high counts in blackjack or find tables where we can get the edge banking at Pai Gow Poker and there is no way to beat mini-baccarat. We don’t bet much at these games, just $25 on each decision. Obviously, there is no edge to be had at $5 slot machines. So in games where no edge is to be had, our tactic is to play very, very few decisions and pray.

At craps we go with our normal bets, obviously far bigger than the bets we make at the other games. This trip we ended at Tropicana where we had a great meal at Carmines. This Odyssey also allows me to scout out the various casinos to see what’s what.

Did we win? Yes. Just barely at the games where we had no edge thanks to a hit on the last slot machine we played. That’s short-term luck. And the power of prayer.

In craps we both had consistently good rolls so skill won out on our Odyssey.

In fact our almost-week in Atlantic City saw me shooting damn well, consistently hitting repeating numbers (which is a wonderful thing). We basically played at 6 am and 9 am with a break in between for breakfast. We did not play evenings or afternoons (except once each when a table was open).

And what of the awesome Stickman, the great, amazingly great, the dice controller with the perfect throw? He wasn’t as consistent as I. Poor lad. All he did was explode several times for monster rolls tickling the 50 mark! It was a dream trip, that’s for sure. Up from the first session and building each session from there. (Let me caution you: It doesn’t always go that way.) Great games; great conversations; great meals. A player’s dream trip.

And then there was this naked guy in the bathroom at Bally’s.

The moment we entered Bally’s from the Boardwalk, there on the stairs leading to the casino were three drug (heroin) addicts, two guys and a girl. I knew them (generically) from my life in New York City. Droopy eyes; sneers from the guy who was most awake; with the girl — totally zonked leaning on his belly — with the second guy blinking to stay awake.

Jerry “Stickman” recognized them too — Memphis had been good schooling for him in this world peopled with the zoned-out dregs of society.

In the casino, which was somewhat crowded, there they were, leaning against the walls, maybe every hundred to two hundred feet apart, the “salesmen.” The druggie would go to a salesman, tell him (they were all men) what he wanted, and then pay the salesman who would use his phone to call the “distributor” who was somewhere else in the building or outside the building.

The salesmen were throughout the casino. In the lobby too and in the portico where you crossed over into Caesars – brazenly standing right there – yet we saw none of these guys in Caesars.

It was then we headed for the restroom; going through the lobby which was empty except for a salesman waiting for orders. In the bathroom was a maintenance man trying to fix a stall door.

Inside the bathroom, we talked:

“Trump Plaza has moved here,” said Stickman.

“Yeah,” I said. “The outer world is closing in on the Boardwalk casinos.”

“Will the casinos last?”

“I really don’t know,” I said. “Resorts looked pretty crowded.”

“Bally’s is becoming the dumping ground from the Trump Dump.”

“Except Bally’s casino is bright and inviting; although some of the wrong people have accepted the invitation,” I said.

Trump Plaza had become known as the Trump Dump and it was always inhabited by the druggies. Its closing was cheered by many casino players who would no longer play in a casino where so many hazy creatures slithered along.

Then I saw the naked guy in the bathroom. He was in the handicap stall; just sitting there. He was Asian and he stared down and then lifted his head and stared straight ahead, then down, then straight ahead — over and over.

I didn’t know if Stickman had seen him. He was at the urinal and I tapped him on the shoulder.

I whispered, “There’s a naked guy in there.”

He whispered back, “Yes. Let me finish peeing.”

“Sorry,” I said and headed out of the bathroom. I passed by the maintenance man who was feverishly trying to fix the stall door.

“That was weird,” said Stickman as he left the bathroom.

“What do you think that was? He loses not only his shirt but also the rest of his clothes?”

“I don’t know. This place is really bringing in the wrong crowd,” said Stickman.

“If this were Vegas they might be able to throw out the drug crowd. I don’t know if they can do that in Atlantic City.”

Stickman nodded. I shook my head.

My God, a naked guy in the bathroom of a casino that had so many of the wrong types seemingly thriving.

That might be more of a herald of Atlantic City’s demise as anything else.

My Education as a Teacher

I graduated college in 1969. For three years I had three majors, literature, philosophy and history. In my senior year I stuck with literature and gave up the rest. I married that year.

So what would I do after I graduated? I could go into the Navy as was my first plan before I received a scholarship to college.

It was the time of the Vietnam War and I figured I would have to serve my country and the Navy seemed the part of the armed forces I’d like the best. After all, I was a strong swimmer. (Why I ever thought that had anything to do with the Navy is beyond me.) Also, I would continue my writing career while I sailed the seven seas. I knew I would become a famous writer as did everyone who put pen or typewriter to paper.

But this Navy plan changed when a friend of mine, Lucy Winiarski, suggested I become a teacher in Suffolk County on Long Island. She had already secured herself a position.

“All you have to do is go in for an interview and take twelve credits of education courses in the summer. They need teachers,” she said.

I never considered being a teacher. Essentially I thought of teachers as people who had the impossible job of controlling kids. As a kid I looked at other kids, I knew how hard it was to control us. Secondarily, these poor schnooks had to educate the students as well. That seemed like trying control a mob of monkeys.

Throughout my schooling, I did have some good teachers, no doubt about that, and many competent ones, no doubt about that either, but the majority were either passible or bad. College professors tended to be somewhat dull with a few exceptions, so joining the ranks of teachers didn’t exactly thrill me. Still I needed money to pay my living expenses.

I went for the interview, got the job on the condition that I get those 12 education credits over the summer, and that was that. I was to become a teacher. Would I even survive this? I’d be teaching seventh grade in an all-seventh-grade school. I figured those kids would probably kill me. But what the hell? Nothing ventured, nothing killed.

I could swim in the Navy or sink in the classroom. I’d try the classroom first and if I drowned there, I’d swim over to the Navy.

So I had to get those education credits. I enrolled in four classes, two each summer session, and there I was the first day of the first class with my notebook opened on my desk awaiting the professor of education who would open the wonders of teaching to me and to all of the education students.

She didn’t. She was awful. She was the worst teacher I had ever had in a college course, or so I thought, until I met the next education teacher. He was worse. He was – in short – an idiot. He and the course had no substance, so I was left dreaming of the high seas. Every eye of just about every student in this guy’s class was droopy within a minute. The class was 90 minutes long!

I took almost no notes. There was no information in the courses, just silly theories about how students act and react. Hadn’t these professors ever gone to school? Were either of these professors ever kids?

And the students in their education classes? A few seemed intelligent and even more than a few seemed like nice people. The rest? Not too impressive. I figured they would be eaten alive when they got into a classroom. I also figured I’d be eaten alive. Perhaps cannibalism awaited all of us, the smart ones and the dumb ones. I didn’t kid myself into thinking that my students would welcome me with loving arms as I entered their classroom.

Their classroom? The professor droned on about their classroom. No, no; my classroom. Yes, the battle – the very first battle – would be in defining whose classroom this was. It had to belong to me, not the students, but if the students took control, they would be the main force in the room. I already knew that some teachers owned the classroom; some teachers were always teetering on the edge of doom and others were devoured by the school of sharks. Yes, I thought, as the professor droned on, a classroom of students could be a school of sharks.

I made it through the first two education courses. Actually, I think an ape could have done that. In my 33 years of teaching the worst level of education came in education courses, usually taught by people who couldn’t teach, offering scant information that at best belonged in comedy clubs. My first six credits instilled in me a disdain for my new profession.

The next six credits taught me a lot, not about education, but about one aspect of teaching that stayed with me for my whole career. One of my two professors was a master teacher, a true master. His curriculum, as with all education curricula, was a waste of time, talent and money, but this professor could teach a class!

He was energetic. He was pleasant. And he was funny. I enjoyed watching him as he taught. I enjoyed how he goaded and brought out ideas in the students – even if the ideas were silly. He could nudge but he was never mean even if he were teasing a student.

I quickly took a seat at the side of the class so that I could watch him teach and learn how he interacted with the students. The guy was no spring chicken; I’m guessing he was about 65 or so – an age I now consider young!

While I didn’t learn anything of merit in the curricula of those two classes, I did see a great teacher in action. His humor was a key ingredient. The students stayed awake because they didn’t want to miss what the guy would say. He also never took offense at anything a student said. He looked as if he enjoyed every minute in the classroom.

I left there knowing that I had to be funny, entertaining, energetic and engaging. Would I be able to do that? Only time would tell.

I also had to tame the sharks.

Is This Funny or Idiocy?

An advertisement in the latest issue of Scientific American (June 2017) has me grinding my teeth after laughing a little, well, a lot. It is an ad for the “Freedom from Religion Foundation” with Donald Trump and Mike Pence having leading roles.

Here is the copy and I’ve tried to use the ad’s type style, punctuation and grammar:

“IN REASON WE TRUST; Don’t let The Religious Right Trump The First Amendment; [Picture of Pence pushing a painting of Thomas Jefferson behind him.] The ONLY WALL We Need Is Between CHURCH And STATE; Your gift to FFRF’s Legal Fund in Mike Pence’s name will help us fight religion in our government. Phone for free copy of FFRF newspaper. Gifts deductible for income tax purposes. 1-800-335-4021 / ffrf.org/pence; FREEDOM FROM RELIGION FOUNDATION”

I have no doubt that just about all left-wingers will find this advertisement funny and might send in generous donations to the Pence fund for Freedom from Religion.

Yes, Mike Pence is a true Christian believer, heavily supporting a ban on gay marriage and wanting to make a law that defines marriage as solely between a man and a woman. He is also in favor of the religious freedom act as incorporated in Indiana for our entire nation.

What is the religious freedom act? In a nutshell it maintains that if someone enters your store and is gay and wants a wedding cake, if such gayness violates one’s religious beliefs you do not have to sell the cake to such a person. That was an actual event. The owners of the bakery would not sell an inscribed wedding cake to (I’m making the names up) Michael and Donnie.

A Kentucky clerk named Kim Davis refused to issue marriage licenses to a gay couple even though issuing such licenses was her job. When asked why she wasn’t following the Kentucky law she said to the effect, “I am following God’s law!” Republican Presidential aspirant Michael Huckabee flew down to Kentucky and was hanging all over Ms. Davis at a rally supporting her religious freedom even if it meant she wouldn’t do her job.

You can see the problem here. If an individual’s religious belief claims that a women should be dressed a certain way in order to come into his store to buy something, and the woman isn’t dressed that way, then he can tell the woman to take a hike. This is happening at an orthodox Jewish store in Brooklyn, New York.

Or if a black businessman says that his religion will not allow him to sell anything to whites then that is okay too. Or whites selling to blacks. Or Indians selling to Pakistanis. Or…on and on.

The right wing is in favor of religion being a part of government. They protest when the 10 Commandments are removed from court houses. They want civil government to be able to officially decorate for Christmas. I understand this too – hell, I love Christmas but I agree that Christmas and official government decorating for it is not the best practice.

So by using Trump and Pence as examples of the kinds of people who want to shove their religion down our throats the foundation thinks it has made the point. (I actually don’t know if Trump is religious but he now talks as if he is, so if the words fit he should wear them.)

Except –

The Freedom from Religion Foundation just zinged half their potential donors! Can’t someone who wants a wall between Mexico and the United States also want freedom from religion? They sure can. But the ad has now labeled them as retrogrades. Why donate money to a group that disdains you?

I am sure that Republicans and independents who voted for Trump and Pence would be less interested in supporting the Freedom from Religion Foundation than leftists. But some of them just might. I would guess that a percentage of Trump and Pence voters might even be atheists or otherwise opposed to mixing religion with government.

Making fun of their former candidates Trump and Pence is stupid; yes, it is total idiocy – funny idiocy at that but idiocy nevertheless. The “freedom from religion” cause is a serious one, calling for rational thought, as opposed to satire.

Supergirl Defeats Superman? Are You Crazy?

I do not mind a little political correctness in my life. Heck, I always say my granddaughter is intelligent and beautiful (she is both) but I make sure the order is intelligent first and beautiful second. If she was stupid and ugly I don’t know what I’d say, maybe “You don’t look so bad for a beast.”

But I am now totally irritated by the television show Supergirl. I am a big superhero fan, I used to write for the comic books, but trampling on the obvious to give us the politically correct is an assault on common sense, nature and superhero lore.

Yes, Supergirl is politically correct in a Romeo and Juliet way. It’s all dangerous love liaisons defying convention (or at least the writers think so): Supergirl (whose Kryptonian name is Kara Zor-El) loves Mon-El an alien from the planet Daxam, a world that was at war for centuries with Supergirl’s now-destroyed home world of Krypton. Their love is a dangerous liaison as Mon-El’s vicious, murderous mother Rhea wants Supergirl dead in order to force Mon-El’s return to Daxam.

[You will note that the names of Supergirl, Kara Zor-El, and Mon-El use the “El” at the end. Superman is Kal-El. For those not too familiar with the bible’s book of Genesis, the word El is a synonym for the God created by the Canaanites but in Genesis it is used in the plural as Elohim. Considering the amazing powers these individuals have on Earth these names seem appropriate. Obviously, Jerry Siegel, the original creator of Superman, knew his scripture!]

But we have other cases of dangerous liaisons. J’onn J’onnz (pronounced John Jones) is a green Martian able to transform his body to look as if he were human. His love is for a white Martian, a member of the group that slaughtered almost all his fellow green Martians in a titanic war on Mars. Still J’onnz, who is the head of the DEO (Department of Extranormal Operations), can’t shake his dangerous love for white Martian M’gann M’orzz.

Winslow, the head computer geek, is in love with an alien nutcase. Cross species love can be a dangerous thing as his love tries to kill him several times before becoming somewhat tame.

The big dangerous liaison (in the writers’ minds) is between Supergirl’s adopted sister Alex Danvers, a DEO agent, and Maggie Sawyer, a detective. This lesbian relationship is a major shout-out for political correctness and it seems these two may get married in the upcoming season. I’ve got no problem with that at all even though a lot of time is wasted exploring their love when we’d like some more action. (The special effects are great in this show.)

But Supergirl went over the cliff in the season finale. She defeated Superman (Kal-El) in a pitched battle. How could that be?

Granted Supergirl can defeat just about all male and female superheroes and just about all villains – but defeating Superman? That’s idiotic.

Given a normal Kryptonian woman and a normal Kryptonian man, the man has greater muscle power, greater speed and is generally bigger and more agile. This tends to hold true on Earth with men and women as well.

Supergirl is no monstrous Hulk; she looks perfectly normal and in relation to Superman, she fits the woman to man ratio. Her strength and agility could not be as great as her cousin Superman. Just multiply by a thousand percent their Kryptonian bodies and the body that was stronger would still be stronger.

I will grant that in terms of their heat-vision and X-ray vision equality might be achieved but their super breath? Superman would win here as well.

Superman would defeat Supergirl in a fair fight and the fight in the finale was a fair fight. There is no question about that. So why did this politically correct show go over the edge in the season’s finale?

In the finale Superman becomes a kind of unneeded appendage; a pathetic figure in the background of the show. Why have him in at all? Why strip the first and greatest comic-book hero in order to worship at the altar of political correctness?

Writers can only push the envelope so far before it bursts. The season finale burst Supergirl big time.

The Best Science Fiction Movies

These are the best science fiction movies I have seen. I did not put in the Big or Gigantic Monsters as they have their own category. Also zombies and vampires go it alone. I also could not rate them in order. I just have two categories — the best of the best and almost the best of the best. Some movies such as Frankenstein are in Horror Movies; Superman in Comic Book Movies.

THE BEST OF THE BEST

The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951): A peaceful alien comes to Earth to warn us about our warlike ways. The first thing that happens to him? He gets shot. His robot returns the fire. Great film with a great message from the 1950’s – we better watch out.

The Thing from Another World (usually called “The Thing”) (1951): This movie turns up the heat and the suspense to the highest level. Brilliant overlapping dialogue, as good as you’ll ever see in a movie of any type. The “Thing” has landed in the North Pole and is hungry and fixated on reproducing. Only a team of soldiers and scientists stand in this creature’s way. Scary as all get out. Wow!

Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956): The original and still the best of a half dozen attempts to duplicate it. They are here; they are taking over a small town, and then the planet and they might have already taken the shape of your relatives and friends. Another knockout movie. I was a kid when I saw this movie and couldn’t sleep in the dark for a couple of months. Were my parents really my parents?

Planet of the Apes (1968): Oh, yeah, our close relatives rule “some planet” on which an American astronaut crash lands. The apes hunt humans on this planet, experiment on them. Sadly, the humans on this planet are mute. Our hero played by Charlton Heston is not. Great cautionary tale. Where is that planet?

Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1976): More aliens are coming to earth, this time they are friendly. Try to rent or buy the extended version as Richard Dreyfuss gives a great performance of someone obsessed with meeting them.

Star Wars (1976): Terrific space opera. I am sure just about everyone has seen it. The characters have become almost iconic, even the robotic ones. “Use the Force, Luke.”

Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978): Great retelling of the original tale but lacks the magic and absolute terror of the first. Still a really fun and scary movie.

Alien (1979): “In space no one can hear you scream!” That was the advertisement and people in the movie and in the audience screamed. Great cast trapped with that horrible creature looking to devour them.

Time After Time (1979): Jack the Ripper time travels to the 20^th Century. He checks out the television news showing scenes of war and carnage and says, “I am home!” He is followed by H.G. Wells. Can Wells stop the murderous Jack the Ripper? Wonderful time travel movie.

Altered States (1980): Take some mind altering drugs; go into a sensory deprivation tank and see what happens. Discover what it (meaning life, the universe, everything) all means. You’ll go ape!

The Empire Strikes Back (1980): Even better than Star Wars with deep, dark resonance. Whatever you do don’t watch Lucas’ relative new Star Wars prequels because all of the suspense of this one is ruined by those.

Blade Runner (1982): AI “humans” are coming to get us. Fun all the way.

E.T.: The Extraterrestrial (1982): Nice alien. Nice kid. Nice movie.

Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (1982): Oh, yeah, Khan returns and he is pissed off and determined to kill Captain Kirk. Great acting, great battles.

The Thing (1982): Good reimagining of the original movie. Not as good; not as scary but still one of the top science fiction movies of all time.

Starman (1984): E.T. for adults. Strong movie about an alien (Jeff Bridges) on Earth looking to get home.

The Terminator (1984): “I’ll be back.” Oh, yes, he certainly will. The machines of the future try to save themselves by sending a killing machine (Arnold Schwarzenegger) into the past to kill the mother of the human resistance, Sarah Connor, before her son, John Connor, can be born.

Back to the Future I, II, III (1985, 1989 and 1990): Each one is superb. Rarely do you watch a trilogy where each movie is absolutely great. Time travel at its best. Michael J. Fox and Christopher Lloyd delight.

Aliens (1986): The original Alien was a horror movie in space. This one is an Indiana Jones type of movie. Non-stop action when the action gets going. Great female heroine played by Sigourney Weaver.

The Fly (1986): Surpasses the original Fly and really shows how a man can become a fly. I hate bugs! But Jeff Goldblum as the Fly is totally great and truly disgusting.

Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home (1986): A great time travel movie as the crew of the Enterprise goes back in time to San Francisco. Right up there with the Wrath of Khan.

Terminator II: Judgment Day (1991): Now the bad Terminator of the first movie has become the good Terminator and a shape shifting new Terminator is sent back to kill John Connor, who is now an annoying teenager played by an annoying actor. Still, it is a great movie.

Groundhog Day (1993): A truly great movie about a day – the same day! – in the life of one man.

Twelve Monkeys (1995): A fabulous time travel movie with Bruce Willis and Brad Pitt. Intense all the way, surprising, with terrific performances. Go with it.

Face Off (1997): A good guy exchanges faces with a bad guy. The bad guy exchanges faces with a good guy. Both step into the other’s life. It is brutal, action-packed with an amazingly wonderful ending at a funeral. John Travolta versus Nicholas Cage in a battle at the finish to the finish.

Galaxy Quest (1999): Satires are tough to pull off. This is pulled off with aplomb. Think of the Star Trek actors being lampooned but at the same time there is excitement and fun all the way. You don’t even have to know anything about Star Trek because the movie works on its own.

Signs (2002): Great movie about aliens landing on someone’s farm – but also landing all over the world. We see a small battle between one man and his small family against them. Can a former minister who has lost faith in God defeat these creatures on his property? Excellent theme underlying the entire movie. Great performances by Mel Gibson and Joaquin Phoenix.

Serenity (2005): One of the greatest television shows Firefly continued as a movie. Loved the show and loved this movie. As Sheldon Cooper said, “I can’t believe Fox cancelled this show after one season.” I can’t either. Movie is terrific by the way. Joss Whedon at his best.

War of the Worlds (2005): I like Tom Cruise and he is excellent in this telling of H.G. Wells’ tale about a Martian invasion of Earth. Dakota Fanning is also magnificent as his daughter.

Star Trek (2009): The reboot that scared me. How could you have other actors playing iconic characters from the first series? Turned out to be a fabulous film. The actors caught the essence of Kirk, Spock and McCoy. Never thought this movie would work. Boy was I wrong.

Rise of the Planet of the Apes (2011): This should start a series. Excellent story, even pays homage to Planet of the Apes. Well done all around.

THE GOOD ONES

The Invisible Man (1933)

The Bride of Frankenstein (1935)

Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954)

This Island Earth (1955)

1984 (1956)

Forbidden Planet (1956)

The Fly (1958)

The Incredible Shrinking Man (1957)

On the Beach (1959)

The Time Machine (1960)

Fahrenheit 451 (1966)

2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)

The Andromeda Strain (1971)

The Omega Man (1971)

Slaughter House Five (1972)

Sleeper (1973)

Soylent Green (1973)

Westworld (1973)

The Stepford Wives (1975)

The Boys from Brazil (1978)

Somewhere in Time (1980)

Scanners (1981)

The Dead Zone (1983)

Return of the Jedi (1983)

Dreamscape (1984)

Star Trek III: The Search for Spock (1984)

Brazil (1985)

Cocoon (1985)

Predator (1987)

The Blob (1988)

Big (1988)

The Abyss (1989)

Predator II (1990)

Total Recall (1990)

Demolition Man (1993)

Fire in the Sky (1993)

Village of the Damned (1995)

Independence Day (1996)

Men in Black (1997)

Starship Troopers (1997)

The Truman Show (1998)

Matrix (1999)

A.I.: Artificial Intelligence (2001)

Men in Black II (2002)

Minority Report (2002)

Terminator III: Rise of the Machines (2003)

The Day after Tomorrow (2004)

District 13 (2004)

I, Robot (2004)

I Am Legend (2007)

Avatar (2009)

Terminator Salvation (2009)

The Time Traveler’s Wife (2009)

Real Steel (2011)

The Hunger Games (2012)

Men in Black III (2012)

Looper (2012)

Gravity (2013)

Live, Die, Repeat (2014)

The Martian (2015)

Ex Machina (2015)

Major Disappointments: All the “Next Generation Star Trek” movies. While none was bad they just didn’t have “it.” Terminator III was a decent movie but a replay of Terminator II with a female shape-shifting Terminator.

All three of George Lucas’ new Star Wars films (The Phantom Menace, Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith) should never have been made. These also ruin the suspense and surprises of the original trilogy, the first two of which Star Wars and The Empire Strikes Back were brilliant and the third (Return of the Jedi) was good.

Prometheus is the prequel to the Alien series — it stunk. I was hoping the characters would die. Alien III was even worse. Seriously, who cares about vicious prisoners? Let the damn alien eat them. I could not believe they killed off Newt just like that when we spent almost three hours cringing when her life was in jeopardy in Aliens. Killing her was a disgrace. And Ripley’s death scene? Ludicrous, pretentious, poorly conceived. Alien Resurrection was idiotic but still tops Alien III.

Alien versus Predator had some good moments but is not one of the top science fiction movies. Nor are the other two predators versus aliens movies worth watching — but compared to the three new Star Wars clunkers these could be considered Gone with the Wind.

Evolution had a good premise but someone should have awakened David Duchovny and explained to him that he had to act, not nap, during his scenes.

All the X-Files movies missed the boat or the space craft or whatever the hell they needed to rev these pictures up.

Arrival has Amy Adams in it. That’s the best thing about this bomb that tries to be sophisticated and winds up just silly.

The Wizard of Oz is a totally overrated movie. I didn’t even like it when I was a kid. I think I’ll get some criticism but the movie should go back to Kansas and never leave.

NOTE: I will let you know what I think of the new movies after I see them. I tend to wait for them to come out on Blu-Ray and I watch them in my home theater. My sound system and television are better than the movies and I can stop everything, go to the bathroom, get more popcorn and pick up the movie where I left off. I only have a small problem; my wife telling me, “Turn down the sound, Scobe, you are going to kill our parrots!”