And so it begins.

The 2018 football season is here.  I type these words as I sit on the couch mashing the channels between the Bengals vs. the Bears and the Giants vs. the Browns.

The first pro football game I attended was a preseason game at Riverfront Stadium in Cincinnati.  The Bengals were playing the Packers that night.  The Packers had a new coach, Bart Starr.  My Dad and I sat alone in wooden folding chairs on a concrete floor with a roof over our heads as we hung on the wall and looked over South goalpost. Don’t ask me how we got there.  I was seven years old. It was great.  I got to watch my hero, Ken Anderson, play for a while before giving way to John Reaves.

The Bengals.

I have been asked on occasion, over the years I have written speaktherights.com, questions like “Where did you come up with that?”

Now and again I do find an artifact.  In 1981 the Cincinnati Bengals changed their uniforms.  They had old  jersey’s with normal horizontal stripes.  Their old helmets said BENGALS on the sides.  That all changed in 1981.  They put Bengal Tiger stripes on the helmets and on the sleeves.  I was thirteen years old the day I looked in the Courier-Journal to see the report of the Bengals first preseason game of the season against the Tampa Bay Bucs.  This is what I saw:

It was my first glimpse at the Bengals new uniforms.  There was no twitter and no ESPN 2 or NFL Network.

I must admit I was not impressed.  Or was I?  I did cut the picture out after all.  I cut out many that season.  It was my favorite NFL season of all time.  It was the greatest season of all time.  I know I have written this before.  I will again.  Super Bowl XVI on January 24th  of 1982 was played between the Cincinnati Bengals and the San Francisco 49ers.  In the 1981 regular season the Bengals were 12-4 and the Niners were 13-3.  The year before they were both 6-10.  Never before had the NFL seen such a turnaround.  Hasn’t seen one since either.  It was a special season.  Glad I was there.

Today I told my friend and colleague, Hal Pearson, that I rarely feel old.  I told Hal I attribute that to a few things.  Attitude is important.  You know, that you’re only as old as you feel thing.  Another thing I have going for me, and I have said it before, I have easily held on the music of my youth.  I first saw Justin Hayward sing Nights in White Satin when I was eighteen years old.  Justin had just turned forty.  Later this month Carrie and I plan on hearing Justin sing that song again.  I am 50.  Justin will be 72 this year.

I admitted to Hal today that I felt old.  It seems like yesterday.  It was twenty years ago.  How?

Carrie and I were living in New Salisbury’s Briarwood subdivision between New Salisbury and Central Barren.  We didn’t have any fancy TV.  We had an antennae that sat inside a metal tube that was not on the house but on the ground and you could grab the antennae pole and turn it.  Twenty years ago I turned it to the North and prayed a picture would come in.  The Hail Mary was answered.  You had to sit back from the TV set a bit but the picture was there.

It was Peyton Manning’s first game with the Indianapolis Colts. The Colts were playing against the homestanding Seattle Seahawks.  His first pass was a touchdown.  I was watching that night and it just doesn’t seem like that long ago.  I was 30.  It was a long time ago.

Tonight the Colts are playing at Seattle.

Ken Anderson and Peyton Manning, the man who made football in Indiana,  may not be playing football anymore, but Justin Hayward sounds better than ever!

I’m still young.

Speaking the rights…

Danny Johnson

What’s new?

While I know the readership of this thing I write here is less than modest, I do get asked by a few folks when I am going to put something new on here.

What’s new?  Well, this morning this was new:

This was a great breakfast concoction that my dear wife, Carrie, put together.  I don’t even know what all was in it.  I know it was good for you.  I couldn’t taste any bacon so that was a healthy start.  When you have green and yellow and orange and white on the breakfast table you know you are eating right.  Add that healthy scone and a cup or three of leaded coffee and  you got it made.

I am a fortunate man.  I don’t fix anything to eat that I can’t spell.  Thank God Carrie has the gift.  The porch was cool this morning as I read the paper and drank my coffee and then was blessed with a fine culinary creation.  The heat caught up with us.  Off the porch til morning I would say.

Goodbye, Mr. Duffy.

When you spend your life around schools as I have, you meet a great many memorable characters.  Some you wish you could forget.  Some you hope to remember.  Some never go away.  I think the ones that never go away are the legends.  Mr. Darrel Duffy was one of those.  I wish I knew how many times I had heard my Dad or one around him ask, “You know what Duffy had to say about that?”, when the discussions of the day were flowing around.

Mr. Duffy died yesterday.  He was 85.

The last time I had speaks with Mr. Duffy they were good ones.  He asked about my Dad.  They worked together at Brownstown Central from 1967 to 1979.  Mr. Duffy retired from BC in 1993.  Looking at the bio in his obituary, I feel rather useless in comparison.  He was an exceptional man and a giver of his time and talent. The rest of us have some work to do.

He was a character, Mr. Duffy.  And more often than not, the laugh was at your expense.  But that was part of his charm.  You knew he was one of the good guys.

For a number of years I worked with one of his granddaughters, Bridget Disque, at Medora Schools.  I enjoyed it when she spoke of him.  He was loved and respected by all.

A new day is always on the way.

We might be here to see the new day and we might not.  But there is always hope that the next day will be better than today.  Sometimes that takes effort.  Sometimes it takes a deep breath and turning off the television and looking out the window to see that, if your yard is not burning,  God’s green earth (aka the environment) has plenty of beauty to behold (for now).

Where I work, North Harrison Community Schools, we welcome students into the building this coming Wednesday.  I say bring them on!  Youthful optimism abounds at the start of each school year and it is a great thing to be a part of.

Speaking the rights…

Danny Johnson

This past week was my first “official week” back to school to begin the 2018-2019 school year as a counselor at North Harrison High School.  It goes so quickly.  All of it.  The time working and the weeks off during the summer.  I am dumbfounded that I am beginning my 4th year at NH.  I am blessed to have a job that allows me to help kids out during such a challenging time of transition in their lives.  Young people are resilient.  They want to learn.  That is the beauty of education.  No matter what test is thrown at them, no matter how many political barriers are thrown in the path of their progress, kids still want to learn and understand the process of what they are doing.  I say God Bless them!

On Thursday my dear wife, Carrie, and I went back to The Jackson County Fair in Brownstown which is my old hometown.  The fairgrounds is a small corn field away from my childhood home on Jackson Street.  They have since added more than corn in that direction like a county highway garage and a new jail.  But between those two you can still see the midway rides from the old homestead.  That was a sight and the sounds that permeated the night sky in a house that had no air conditioning was wonderful back then.

I didn’t take too many pictures.  Carrie and I had a friend of ours with us, Steve Hanger.  Steve has wanted to go to the Jackson County Fair for years and this year we got it done.  I’d say he will want to go back next year.

The ducks going down the slide in the Young McDonald’s Farm building is always a sight to behold.  I would love to know how old that slide is.  I don’t think I have ever seen another one.

We ran into one of the greatest school leaders known to man.  In the yellow shirt is Dr. Robert Mahan.  He is why I am sitting on a screen porch between Frenchtown and Milltown at this very moment in 2018.  In 1979 he was the superintendent at North Harrison and he hired my Dad to teach social studies and coach football here.  Ten years ago I had the privilege of working for Dr. Mahan, as he was the interim superintendent at Medora schools for a year.  Oh, and get this, that same year we were both at the Ryman Auditorium with our wives to see a concert by The Moody Blues.  The man knows music also.  In earnest, I am truly honored to know him.

So I cheated, this photo is from last year’s fair midway.

Until today I had no idea this would be the last Jackson County Fair that I would get to see Andy Wayman in uniform.  He is retiring, I hear, after this year.  You are a classic, Andy.  I am honored to know you too. You have been a great asset to Jackson County for many years.  In the parlance of Andy Taylor, “We’ll see you, boys.”

The red shirt I have on in this picture is not a nod to Brownstown Central, in case some of you Cougar faithful are alarmed.  No.  It is a Celery Signs t-shirt.  Jerry Brown, aka Celery Brown, called me on Thursday and told me he would be in Corydon doing some business and he wanted to stop by the school to see me for a few minutes.  I told him to come on.  Even though Jerry is the art teacher at Brownstown Central and an assistant football coach, we gave him the royal welcoming treatment.

He appreciated it.  It was great to have speaks with Jerry. He is quite the artist on many levels.

Speaking the rights…

Danny Johnson

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