I am sitting on the back porch tonight wishing there was a little more daylight.  I wish is was 4:44 PM instead of 8:44.

Oh well, I shouldn’t complain.

Wanted to pass on a big WAY TO GO to my brother, Darrel Lee Johnson.  We he was a little kid everyone in our immediate family had the middle name Lee.  Danny Lee Johnson, Sister Lee Johnson, Mommy Lee Johnson, and Daddy Lee Johnson.  What can I say.  It is as much fun now as it was then.  I was born in 1968.  Darrell was born in 1983.  My last three years of high school included responsibilities I am thankful for.  I always have been.  Even then when I was turning him upside down in his car seat as I fishtailed down a gravel road.

Darrell will be teaching 2nd grade at Grant Line Elementary School in New Albany.  As many times as I have driven down Grant Line Road, I don’t know where the road got its name?  I have a feeling I will find out.  Congratulations to my dear brother, Darrell Lee Johnson.

Those 2nd graders are going to learn a great deal!

Speaking the rights…

Danny Johnson

A well-respected Georgia newspaper columnist I love and admire, but rarely agree with even though I am certain he is a registered Republican as am I, is quick to point out the liberalism of colleges and universities.  That our students in Ivory Tower bastions of learning are being fed platitudes of socialism and far left acrimony.

No.  This is not true.  This attitude toward liberal education in this country is something this columnist falls back on because he can.  It is convenient.

If these liberal education hell-holes did exist as I have read they do, there would be protesting on college campuses in every state.  They would be protesting and demanding an American President that cared more about America and less about Russia. They would want a President that cared more about children and the environment.  They would storm the towers!  Something would be burning somewhere.  We didn’t start the fire.

It is not happening.  College campuses are docile as they await the fall semester.  There is no protesting en masse.  There is no protesting at all.  Where are all these kids that have been fed liberal propaganda from their tree-hugging professors?

They are not out there.  They don’t care that much.  They are waiting for this storm to pass and to do better for the future.  It won’t be difficult.

We learned, I suppose.  All that protesting and singing in the 60s.  You know, the music that went along with a good protest?  It didn’t matter.  Music, for all its significance, didn’t change the political world.  We only thought it did.  We only thought it would.  It won’t.  It didn’t.

Make America Great Again.  That was the mantra during the 2016 campaign.  How’s that working out for you?  I think America has gotten worse.

I know of a landscaping company in North Carolina that depends on H-2B Visas for seasonal workers from South of the American border to keep up the work and help to sustain the jobs of 150 Americans that work for the company.  It is all done through legal channels and has been good for all workers involved.  This particular company had to turn down a $400,000 contract because they did not have the seasonal workers needed thanks to restrictions placed on H-2B Visas.  I hope no Americans lose their jobs.

But you don’t hear about that do you?  God Bless America.

Yes, I am a Republican.  I have not switched my political party affiliation.  I am praying for better days.

This is where I will catch hell.  But, as the page suggests, I speak the rights.

In the parking lot of IUS in January of 1995, I listened as Newt Gingrich gave the speech of the 104th Congress when the Republicans gained a great many spots in the House.  I was all in.  I didn’t so much love Newt Gingrich as I was enamored with the party of Ronald Reagan.  That and, even more so, I was not a fan of whiny Democrats.

Let me put this in microcosm.

I did not like the Democrats back in the day because they seemed to be a whiny, we know better than you bunch and you have to be wrong and mean if you don’t agree with us.  I didn’t like that.

Today I am just as put off by the Republicans because of their “Holier than Thou” attitude.  I abhor that.

Our current President has it made it easy to root for the other side…and it is less painful than rooting for the Republicans.  I hope and pray the day that change comes around for me to witness.  It might take a while.

Has anyone out there heard of John Kasich?  Have you heard him lately, Republicans?  If yes, how do feel?

These are Strange Times.

We have a President that wants to play footsie with the Russia leader and denounce NATO allies.

I believe this country was much safer in the Cold War when the USA and the USSR  had bombs pointed at each other.

The guy doesn’t know enough about history to be President.  But he is.  He proves it daily by putting people down and deciding he didn’t mean what he said the day before.

You want to call that leadership?  Go ahead and keep fooling yourself.

One day things will be better for the Republican Party.  I just hope I live to see it.  I have a feeling I will see plenty of suffering due to trade wars gone bad and a guy who thinks being the President of the United States is another reality TV show.  And the kids at university won’t give him the time of day until they wise up and turn the tide.

Speaking the rights…

Danny Johnson

I’d hate to know how much mileage I have gotten out of this picture.  I was on the Royals.  We were the Brownstown Little League Champs in 1979.  A couple weeks ago my old friend, Jerry Brown, he was not on my team, admired the trophy.

He lamented that he did not have one.  It was a less complicated time.  You win, you get the trophy.  You don’t win it all, you don’t get the trophy.

It was during the 1979 All Star game in Seattle, I was watching it with my grandparents in Shreveport, that my Dad called and told me we were moving from Brownstown to Ramsey.  Town to country.  It worked out great.  Have you met my wife?  I am the winner!

Carrie and were in Durham, NC a few days ago.  If the Bulls are in town, it is a natural stop for us.  When the Durham Bulls are playing in Louisville, we try to make one of those too.

Durham Bulls Athletic Park is a nice ballpark.

Hit the Bull in left field and win a steak.

Carl Yaz’ grandson was playing for the Norfolk Tides.  Looks mighty familiar to you old baseball fans, doesn’t he?

After the game and dinner, Carrie and I walked down to see another old Bulls ballpark.  Remember this one?

I do.  As we walked along I thought, man, I can’t believe it has been 20 years since the movie Bull Durham came out.  Then I stopped, did the math in my head…uh…make that 30 years.  Wow.

North Carolina Central uses this field now.  The last time we were here we walked down to the field and I sat in dugout.  It was a bit run down then. It looks much better now.  Looks like it ready for Nuke LaLoosh to take the mound again.

And a rain-out?  Well, Crash Davis would be proud.

Speaking the rights…

Danny Johnson

It was more than just a chicken pot pie.  It was a chicken pot pie I will remember for a great while, I think.

Above is a picture of the Ohio River near the deck of The Overlook Restaurant in Leavenworth, Indiana…that is.  This is where I sat down with my old friend Jerry Brown for lunch today.

When we did the math, we were last classmates at Brownstown Central Elementary School thirty-nine years ago.  We were on opposing high school football teams thirty-three years ago.  He has been married to his wife, Tammy, for twenty-six years.  I have been married to my dear wife, Carrie, for twenty-two years.

Jerry and I were in each other’s weddings.  It was a good time both times.

We spent a little over four hours together this morning into the afternoon.  We were due.

We just talked.  We asked a few questions.  We talked about the past.  We talked a little about the future.  We talked of hopes and aspirations.  We spoke of some past disappointments.  We did not get stuck, or low, or bogged down in any pile of mud.  We walked over the worst things or just plain walked around them.  We never have a need to work to manufacture something interesting for the other to talk about.  We are connected beyond friendship in the traditional sense.

That is the “it” factor Jerry and I have in common.  As I always say, we are not here to have a bad time.  Jerry and I saw each other today for the first time since we both turned fifty years old earlier this year.  That never came up during our speaks today.  But, that too is characteristic of the unspoken feeling between us “it” factor we are blessed with.  When we see each other we just take up where we left off.

Jerry and I have seen some of our best days and our worst days…together.  I was there when Jerry’s Dad, Tom, passed away in 1991.  Jerry and I were twenty-two and shocked and hurt. Jerry handled it all with a graciousness any father would be proud of.  A year later Jerry was married.  Tom was a huge influence on my life.  I wish I could have seen the look on his face when I graduated from college.  And I know what he would have said.

“I knew you could do it.  You just had to get your ass in gear.”

I think Tom would have been pleased with the two guys having lunch today.

I know I was proud to be there.

Speaking the rights…

Danny Johnson

Did not think we would ever get here.  The Moody Blues had been eligible for induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame for a quarter century before they got the call.  Better late than never, I suppose.  I wasn’t going to visit this place until The Moodies found their way into the place.  Miracles never cease.

My dear wife, Carrie, and I spent about four hours in the the rock hall this afternoon.  It went by so quickly.

I will offer a few of the highlights and know there were many more.

Of course I had to wear a Moodies shirt…one I got nearly a year ago when I saw them in play Days of Future Passed live.

For Tim Mullins, I had Carrie pose in front of The Rolling Stones.

When I saw the guitar John Lennon was playing on the roof with the rest of The Beatles in their last public performance, I was really amazed.  I knew what it was before I had to look twice.

Handwritten lyrics of John Lennon’s 1980 hit Starting Over…how ironic are those words?   He was killed that same year.

H

The Moody Blues display case.  A section of all of this year’s inductees were there to take in and enjoy.

Had a great time reliving old television/music memories.  I always enjoyed American Bandstand.  I remember watching for my favorite artists perform.  I was glued to AB when The Bay City Rollers were on.

The Midnight Special was our MTV before MTV.  We tuned in to see what the artists looked like as well as what they sounded like.  Bonnie Tyler’s It’s a Heartache, The Little River Band’s Reminiscing, and Steve Miller Band’s Fly Like an Eagle still stir me up.  Thank you, Wolfman Jack.

Don Kirschner’s Rock Concert came on after The Midnight Special and it was a little edgier and straightforward with its music and presentation.  It was a concert feel in the living room.  Problem was, it was so late I had to keep the volume down so it would not wake my parents up.  Such a sacrifice for a ten year-old.

A-ha’s Take on Me was a ground breaking video in the mid-80s.  To see some of the original drawings for this masterpiece was pretty cool.

At Dick Clark’s podium, I give The Moody Blues a 100!

Carrie caught me admiring The Moodies’ display.

The guitar that Justin Hayward used to record the early Moody Blues songs with.  Justin is such a gracious guy.  It belonged originally to Lonnie Donegan,  Lonnie signed Justin to an awful publishing deal that made Donegan’s family very comfortable I am sure thanks to Justin’s brilliance and eagerness and thoughtless youth.  In 2005 Donegan’s  widow contacted Justin and offered to SELL him the guitar for 3000 pounds!  Justin had already filled the Donegan coffers many times over.  What does Justin Hayward do?  Well, he bought the guitar back and now it sits in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame as a post script to the class he and the other Moodies have presented over the years.

Finally, it was good to see an old friend, Larry Lujack given mention.  One of my WLS DJ heroes, Lujack deserves his mention in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

What I have presented here only constitutes a thimble of what is to be seen, heard, realized, remembered, and learned.  I was totally impressed with the place.

Like The Moody Blues, Carrie and I finally made it to The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. I am very glad we did.

Speaking the rights…

Danny Johnson

What is worse than sport halls of fame?

Answer:  The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.  Or as I like to put it…the Cleveland Museum of Musical Criticism as told by Journalistic Neurotics claiming to understand Rock and Roll.

There should at least be this criteria for being inducted into a the Rock and Roll Hall: Most of us have heard of something you sang or played on!

I don’t have a personal beef with The 5 Royales…or The Paul Butterfield Blues Band…or Lou Reed (so I have heard of him)…or…believe me I could go on.  I do wonder how they can be in a hall of fame.

Answer:  Music Critics.  They are worse than sportswriters.  They know it all.  They try to be creative because they don’t play an instrument themselves.  You can throw a laptop across the room and it won’t make a good sound.  You can blow on a pen and piece of paper and no one will care.  So…they care little about what most of us like and use their own agenda to try to sway us to their liking.  In the meantime…they waste their time. I gloss over music reviews in my newspaper.

You who know me probably guessed it.  The Moody Blues are not in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and I hope they never get their.  They deserve better.

Reasons The Moody Blues have not been inducted into the AMERICAN hall?

Could be:

None of The Moody Blues ever wore an earring.  Playing sell out tours in 2014 isn’t cool. Selling 70 million records just doesn’t cut it.  No members dead of drug-overdose.  Lead singer married to same lady since 1969.  Too many all over the world know the song Nights in White Satin word for word.

Who knows?  And really, who cares?  The Moodies just keep on rocking like the “Singers in a Rock and Roll Band”  they are.  Where is there a better hall than that?  Maybe in the kitchen.

I WROTE THOSE WORDS IN 2015.  I never dreamed the Moody Blues would ever be inducted in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.  They made it this past April.  Made what, I don’t know.  I will find out in two days.  I have been to the Mississippi Sports Hall of Fame.  That is the only Hall of Fame I have been to.  I won’t visit the Pro Football Hall of Fame as long Ken Anderson is not there.

But I do plan on visiting the Rock Hall of Fame as Carrie and I will be passing through Cleveland in a couple of days.  It is tragic that it took The Moody Blues this long to find their way to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.  But, for better or worse, they got there.

So…I approve.

I read recently that Justin Hayward will probably hand his Rock and Roll Hall of Fame trophy to a family member…who could blame him.

Speaking the rights in a cool Amherst, Mass not looking forward to 106 degree heat index values that await in Southern Indiana in a few days.

Speaking the rights…

Danny Johnson

Written on a cool evening in Amherst, NH.

Not long ago I spoke on the phone with my friend and former college professor from days gone by, Dr. Millard Dunn.  Our speaks were special.  Not just because he is helping me work through a piece of writing that is quite ambitious and daunting, our speaks were special because today I took a leisurely and meaningful stroll around Walden Pond today and thought about Millard as I made my way.

I have written here on occasion about Dr. Dunn before.  His influence on my studies and my life are immeasurable.  I can’t thank him enough.

In the fall semester of 1993 I took an American Literature class with Dr. Dunn.  It was marvelous.  He studied Henry David Thoreau and I got wrapped up in it.  So much so that twenty five years later I am visiting Walden Pond and calling Dr. Dunn on the same day.  That is a special sequence of events that does not come along very often for a teacher and a student.

The replica cabin and a statue devoted to Henry David Thoreau.

It was a picture postcard type of day today at Walden Pond.

The mile and a half trail around the pond was a thing of beauty.  I walked along the water and along a path above the water.  

I brought along Dr. Dunn’s book of poetry Places We Could Never Find Alone.

At the site of Thoreau’s cabin, I took this photo.

A copy of Walden at Walden Pond is rather surreal.

It was a memorable time today.

Speaking the rights.

Danny Johnson

As I type on this Saturday morning, it is 61 degrees and a cool wind is blowing down from the North.  My dear wife, Carrie, has a sweatshirt on.  I am chilly in my shorts and t shirt.

We are in Hancock, Mass. within a place commonly known as The Berkshires.  This is the fifth consecutive summer we have visited this place.  When we like a place, we stick with it.  But there is always something new to be found here.  There are museums and points of interest within an hour drive of here that we keep saying we will make to “someday”.  Personally, I like the weather here.  It is cool and I don’t have as much trouble with my pipes.  I breathe better here.

Earlier in the week we took my sister to a concert at The Tanglewood Shed in Lenox to see Alison Krauss.  The Summer home of the Boston Symphony, Tanglewood is a special place.  Lynn flew up on Sunday to Albany.  She stayed three nights and we had great time.  I know she enjoyed it.

At the show, Lynn found someone in the place she knew from junior high school days.  Amazing.  Facebook came in handy this night.

A couple days ago Carrie and I went to New York City.  Talk about a place with endless stuff to see.  We did not make it to Times Square or Central Park.  We did make it to the 9/11 Memorial and had a guided tour.  We made it to Ellis Island and rode by the Statue of Liberty on the way.  We walked over the Brooklyn Bridge.

We woke up at 4:30 here in Hancock.  We drove to Poughkeepsie, NY and caught a Metro North Train to Grand Central Station at 7:30.  We got to New York at 9:15 for the day.  At 8:30 PM we took the train back to Poughkeepsie and checked into a hotel for the night at 10:30.  It was a long and fulfilling day.  The two other times we have done this, we drove back to Hancock and dodged deer all the way and got back here in the wee hours of the morning.  No more.  Don’t forget, we hit a deer coming back from a concert in Saratoga Spings a few years ago.  Anyway…we had a nice visit to NYC.

Grand Central Terminal is a very loud and busy place.  But the high ceiling makes it almost reverent.

When I was in the 11th grade I wore the same dark blue adidas t shirt every Monday of the school year.  It was my Monday shirt.  Carrie and I have made this trip to NYC three times in the last five years and I have worn the same shirt to NYC each time.  It is my NYC shirt.

The 9/11 Memorial was our first destination of the day in the city.

Words can’t do much here.  I remember teaching the day it happened.  I walked into the room of a colleague and he was watching TV and told me what had happened to the North Tower and we were both dazed.  Watching the TV, we saw the South tower hit by the second plane.

On the place where the towers stood, you can’t imagine how quiet a place in the largest city in America can get.  This is a large area and it is treated with the civility and the dignity and reverence it deserves.  So with that, we know there is still hope in the face of trial in this country.

The front and the back of Ladder 3.  So many folks were save by police and fire rescue workers who gave their lives for others.  It is an amazing story of heroism on a day no manual or class can prepare you for.

We left 9/11 to find…

I could not help but capture this photo and think about some of the difficulties some folks much less fortunate than I  are going through these days.

We stayed on the boat and got off at the next stop like so many did before in late 1800s up until around 1924.  We saw Lady Liberty and we saw a place that represented hope for so many…

Countless immigrants were inspected as they climbed these stairs to be processed in.  Officials looked for folks breathing hard as they climbed steps, limping as they climbed steps, disorientation as they climbed the steps, and it was not an easy process for those coming over to a place they dreamed of and, most of them, found the home they were looking for.

Talk about one step up and two steps back…look at this.

One could look around this place for days.

After leaving Ellis Island, it was back to Manhattan.  We walked up Broadway and took a right.  That led us to something I have always wanted to do…walk over the Brooklyn Bridge.

It was great.  The view of the skyline from the top of the bridge can’t be captured with a photo I can put here.  It is unreal.  One of those experiences that outdoes the expectation.  Carrie was right, she called it a walk with 2000 of our closest friends.  The diversity…the languages…the dress…the walking patterns…the bikes in their lane…the people…all having a good time and all enjoying a day in the sun on the first day of Summer in New York City 2018.

Speaking the rights…

Danny Johnson

I don’t know what else to do.  Instead of writing a great deal, I am going to post a few photos.  Many of them, actually.  It is what my mother would want me to do.

Yesterday we picked up my sister, Lynn, at the Albany, NY airport.  She is here with us for a few days and that is wonderful.  I type these words from Hancock, Massachusetts.  There is a ski resort across the road and the Jiminy Peak slopes are a lush green and very empty.

Over the last few days my dear wife, Carrie, and I have seen some beautiful sights.  Some were natural wonders.  Others were man made natural wonders.  I suppose now is when I share a few of those.

Geneva on the Lake, Ohio.

The fish sandwich at Eddie’s Grill was amazing.  The place has not changed much in since the mid-50s.

We had our rematch.  Here is Carrie on the 18th hole last year.  I bested her by a few strokes.  She wanted a rematch.

Here she is at 16 this year.  What a match it was on the oldest putt putt course in America at Geneva on the Lake, Ohio.

At the 18th we both needed this put to force a playoff.  The balls went in to rabbit holes and we were tied.  I walked over to the counter and asked for two balls to play the 18th again for a playoff.  No one was behind us so we went back.  Carrie made the par 2.  I hit a hole in one.

We stayed at a neat spot with a great view of Lake Erie.

We ate dinner at a table under that tree and watched the sunset.  It was very nice.

I was walking outside of Bart Bigham’s English classroom this past semester and heard him as he waxed poetic on well…poetry and verse.  He made the point of folks flocking to Niagara Falls to see what?  Water that is not unlike what we have running from taps all over the school building.  But put in this mammoth context, water can move folks to tears.  Words…which we use daily to communicate…in the right place at the right time can move folks to tears.  Behind me are two books of poetry I brought with me to soak in while on this sojourn.  They are important to me.  Mr. Bigham knows of that he speaks.

Oh Canada behind us.  Found out they would not deliver a pizza 1.2 miles from Canada to our hotel.  Really I don’t blame them…especially these days.

We left Niagara Falls and went to a new destination for us, Port Henry, New York.  It is an old Iron Ore town along Lake Champlain.  The few TV stations come in from Burlington, Vermont up the road and across the lake.  It is a peaceful and friendly place.  The Iron Ore business ceased in 1971.  It reminded me of another little town I know that once thrived just a little bit more.

We had breakfast in this diner and it came HIGHLY recommended by folks from there and visiting again.  It did not disappoint.

We ate two meals here and spent two nights in a room upstairs on the corner of this building.  Tim, our host, was gracious, insightful, and just plain fun to talk to.  I think he was delighted that we were not afraid to chew the fat a bit ourselves.  He had a good day when he decided to open this place up.  The area needed this shot in the arm.  Friendly folks were on the porch from 11-7.  This photo was taken after the place closed…but…we had to porch to ourselves until we decided to retire for the evening.

The next day was a bucket list day for me.

It started with a 5:10 AM sunrise over Lake Champlain on St. Patrick’s Catholic Church’s back yard. This is where we found this…Vermont is on the other side of the lake.

I have never held a hockey stick.  I didn’t watch but a fraction of this year’s Stanley Cup to see who won the NHL Championship.  Still, there is a time and place in sports history that means more to this old football player than any other time.  Lake Placid 1980.  The USA Hockey team defeated the Soviet Union 4-3 in the what is called the greatest sporting event of all time. The Miracle on Ice it is called.  Don’t repeat that to the players of the team though.  They will tell you it was hard work and not a miracle.  But, what else can you call it?  If you have to settle for Miracle on Ice, I’d say you have indeed done something special.  A nod goes to Al Michaels, of course.

So Carl made it to Lake Placid.  He had a great time.  So did Carrie and I.

Around the corner from the sign Carl was on, you could find the ski jumping venue.  These photos do nothing of their imposition on the landscape.  They are amazing.  120 meters is the highest.  It has a cell tower on it.  They still use this for competition.

We walked around town and saw some other sights in Lake Placid.  The village you can imagine was just like you would.  Streets lined with food, shops, lodging, and nice Mirror Lake behind the main street.

And you can find the occasional bobsled to pose with.

So a trip to the Olympic Museum was in order.

Herb Brooks’ pregame speech before the game.  I was fortunate enough to speak to Coach Brooks.  I called him when I was taking a Sports History class and I was writing a paper about the 1980 USA Hockey team.  Deflecting the glory from himself, he told me to talk to the players.  They won it, he said.

This game was played at 5 PM and was not shown live television.  The network did show a replay of it at 8 PM.  That was when we heard Al Michaels call, “Do You Believe in Miracles? Yes!”

A wall away from where the game was played, I and others, watched it again like we were there for the first time.  In some ways, we were.

After the visit to the museum it was upstairs.  I was nervous, but I was ready.

So was Carrie…

Then…

Not much has changed.  The red seats are original. There are a few rows of bleachers around the top and are original.  The scoreboard is the only major change this arena has had since it was built for the 1980 Winter Games.

Carrie and I took a tour of the place and Scott, our tour guide, was magnificent.  He knows some of the players from the team.  When asked, toward the end of our tour, if the movie MIRACLE about the team was factual, he said players have given him a 95% on the finished product.  That was a relief.  Some films don’t translate like they should.  I know.

Whomever put this tour together had some good sense.  In the upper deck, in Section 56 by the way, sat a couple 32 inch TVs.  Carrie and I and one other couple were the only ones being walked around to see this stuff.  In Section 56 we watched the last two minutes of 1980 USA victory over the Soviets.

Having guys on the ice while we watched did not hurt things.

It was amazing.

Carrie went down and took a picture of the bench where the USA team sat while I just sat in a  red seat and took it all in.

It was a moment.

When we got off of cloud 9 and back to Port Henry we went back in time from 1980 to 1759 when the British took control of a Crown Point, a fort along Lake Champlain that was built around 1735 by the French.

We walked in this thing!

And so it goes.

Thankful by the moment and trying to speak the rights…

Danny Johnson

When you gonna write another speaktherights post?  That was the question I got today.  I thought, well, at least someone is reading.

It happens like this every year.  The end of the school comes around and I am so wrapped up in the end of the year activities that I don’t make time to write.  Thank God I was born in March. Those of you reading regularly know what that means.

I will be finished with the 2017-2018 school year, at least in an official capacity, this week.  It has been a good school year.  I thank all of my colleagues for doing an exemplary job in helping the student body of North Harrison High School to be better students and better people.  That is only accomplished if you have a building full of good teachers, administrators, and staff.  I think we have that.  I am fortunate to be among them on a day in and day out basis.

I look at dates and pay attention to historical factoids.  A few days ago I saw an “On This Day in Moody Blues History” timeline.  It was June 7th.  They had listed that the Moodies played a concert at Riverbend in Cincinnati on June 7, 1992.  I turned my head sideways when I saw that.  That is wrong, I thought.  That was on June 10th.  I checked my ticket stub.  It was June 10th.  A week later I saw them at Deer Creek.

Today would have been Vince Lombardi’s 105th birthday.  Vince Lombardi was born on June 11, 1913.  I still believe Vince Lombardi is the most influential figure in the history of modern sport.  Why?  Have you ever heard of The Vince Lombardi Trophy?  That is the trophy that goes to the annual winner of the Super Bowl.  It is named after a coach that won his Super Bowls before the merger of the NFL and the AFL.  There are 32 teams in the NFL and they are all working, sweating, begging, borrowing, and stealing for a Lombardi Trophy.

On this day in 1979, John Wayne died.  He was 72 years old when he died.  How can that be?  72?  The Duke?  Is that all?  Cancer does not discriminate.

My dear wife, Carrie, and I are heading out of town Wednesday for a few days of rest and relaxation.  I will certainly find time to write then.  I have to.  My Mom is depending on it.  And our friend Carl is ready to go too.

Carrie has demanded a rematch on this putt-putt course, the oldest putt-putt course in the United States in Geneva on the Lake, Ohio.  Lake Erie, that is. (I think I can beat her again.)

Speaking the rights…

Danny Johnson