Unicorn Song

My parents used to buy a lot of their furniture at this store in Syracuse called Dunk and Bright Furniture on the South Side of Syracuse. They had lived in the surrounding area when they first came to town and they still had ties to some of the businesses there. Williams Appliance store on South Avenue was another place that they frequented and they purchased an avocado refrigerator and giant Zenith TV there, among other things. Dunk and Bright's is still in the same location, although the neighborhood has changed. When I was going to Syracuse University in the late 1980's, a policeman named Wally Howard was shot and killed near a market across the street.

Tammie and I liked to go to Dunk and Bright's around St. Patrick's Day, because they had great hot chocolate and gifts for people that purchased furniture. In addition, they had a huge showroom and separate areas for carpeting and budget furniture. You could spend all day at O'Dunk and O'Bright's (As it was known on St. Patrick's Day) listening to Irish music and looking around. Of course, my Mom and Dad spent a lot of money there, too. In fact, I remember picking out my bedroom furniture there and my parents actually bought it for me.

Today is my first birthday without Tammie and I was thinking back to when she and I first heard this song by the Irish Rovers. We would always get laughing everytime we would hear it and we loved to mimic the voices of the performers. The first time we heard it was during one of our family furniture shopping trips on the South Side of Syracuse.

Selection Sunday

On October 25th, 2009, the New York Yankees were playing to go to the World Series. The Yankees were always our favorite team and this normally would have been a big deal, but it didn't mean anything that night. I was watching that game when we received a call from my Mom and Dad that Tammie had passed away. After hearing that awful news, I continued to watch as the incredible Mariano Rivera came in for the save. As I looked on, I thought back to the late 1970's and the great anticipation that we had as those awesome clubs struggled their way to three pennants and two World Championships. Tam and I were young then and full of hope for future successes. This year, the hope was gone, but the robotic Rivera continued to play. In my mind, it was a strange parallel to what I was experiencing.

Today is selection Sunday for the NCAA basketball tournament. Ordinarily, I would wait in great anticipation to find out where teams are seeded and what chance Syracuse had to advance in the tournament, but I feel very little interest in it this year. I might still watch some games, but the fun and excitement is definitely gone.

My first recollection of watching this tournament was in 1975 and I was watching in my parent's living room with my sister. Syracuse was playing Kansas State and was down by two points with just five seconds left in the game. To this day, it ranks as one of the most exciting games that I have ever seen. A few days earlier, Tammie got an opportunity to see and meet Rudy Hackett. Rudy was a the star center for Syracuse back then and several kids from our church were invited to see him at a gathering. Tammie's Sunday School teacher was Royce Newell, who himself was a former center for Syracuse University, and he played for them back in the 1940's. Royce was a gentle giant of a man who stood 6'8" tall and he scored 951 points in his college career. He arranged this memorable meeting and as a result, Tammie became a huge Rudy Hackett fan.

Syracuse had to go the length of the floor in those five seconds and Coach Roy Danforth instructed Jimmy "Bug" Williams to grab the inbounds pass and somehow find a way to get a shot off (This was way before any three point shot was instituted). "Bug" was out of Buffalo and an extremely fast point guard. In fact, that is how he got his name. Well, he shot off like a light and somehow got the ball to Rudy Hackett, who was darting across the lane. Hackett grabbed the ball turned and shot it with his left hand (he was right handed) and the ball went in to tie the game. Syracuse went on to win the contest in overtime and they eventually made it to the Final Four before losing to Kentucky. Back then, they had a consolation game at the Final Four and Syracuse lost to Louisville in that one. Despite the eventual heartbreak, I became a huge Syracuse fan in 1975 and Tam was right there with me.

Most every year, Tammie and I submitted picks for who we thought would win the NCAA Division 1 Basketball Tournament. This year, I think I might develop one, but enter under my sister's name. If I win, I am going to do something special with it. I still miss her everyday. Sports was my savior throughout my life, but they seem very trivial now.

Old Yellow

http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3385/3646264956_79833865ab.jpg

My sister's first car looked very much like the one in the photo. My Dad bought it from a dentist friend of his ,who was just getting into the car business in 1979. From what I remember, they paid $900.00 for it and it was a mustard yellow 1973 Oldsmobile 88 with a V-8 350 "rocket engine". Tammie was very excited to get it and couldn't wait to wash it and polish it up. She took it home and turned the car radio on to listen as she worked. Before long, she drained the battery and "Old Yellow" wouldn't start.

Tam was always running out of gas with the thing, too. The needle on the gauge didn't work very well and she would run out in DeWitt, on 690 or somewhere outside of Rochester. Who knew where it was going to happen? Knock on wood, I have never run out of gas.  I had never known anyone who owned a yellow car before and it kind of made me proud. Of course, it wasn't completely yellow.

Over the years that she owned it, the car started to acquire other colors. First, there was a little blue that somehow got on the front bumper, then there was the red paint that showed up on the front passenger door. Along the way, she lost the button thingy in the door handle on that side and found some black streaky marks that ran along that door. Oh and that door seemed to be smashed in a little bit. Tammie always maintained that car was like that when she got it, but I don't really remember it that way.

Another memorable moment, was when Tammie was leaving my parents driveway and she inadvertently clipped one of my parent's cars. My Mom and Dad went out to check and my Dad seemed  to develop some difficulty in speaking. My Mom was a bit in a panic, as she kept telling Tam to go and not look back. My Father eventually calmed down, but I can still see him trying to form words after seeing his white Cutlass with a massive dent in it. As some might know, my Dad is a bit particular about  his cars.

I Love a Piano

My Mom wanted the both of us to learn to play the piano, as she and my Aunt Brenda had learned. My Grandparents had a beautiful old piano that my Great-Grandmother Swarthout once used on her farm in Allentown, NY. When we would visit, I remember trying to play that old out-of-tune piano and how beautiful it sounded to me. I don't recall what make of piano it was, but it had these wonderful ball and claw legs.

My parents purchased a used Baldwin piano for all of us to play. My Mom has always played beautifully and used to perform her recitals at the David A. Howe Library in Wellsville. At one point, she even attempted to teach me, but I don't think that I was her best student. My Dad learned to play from an old cruise ship pianist and he "plays by ear". He practices putting together different chords until he has something resembling a tune. Actually, he does this quite well and I love to hear him play Stardust. 


Tam started taking lessons around the first grade and quickly became very good. She had several teachers, but the most memorable for me was this young "hippie" woman who brought a music book with contemporary songs to play. When I started playing, I absolutely hated all of the exercises and scales I had to play. There was absolutely no chance that I was going to be a concert pianist and I just wanted to play something that I recognized. This "hippie" understood that and her legacy is the book with all of the Paul Simon and Norman Greenbaum songs in it.

My Mom tried to encourage me to keep learning the piano, because I would want to be able to play well someday. As I continued to grow, though, I lost interest in it. Of course, it didn't help that one of our numerous piano teachers dumped us. She told my Mom that she was getting out of the business, but curiously, she kept some of our friends as students. In any event, I never did learn to play well enough and I don't really play now. Someday, I hope to pick it up again.

After Tammie got a house of her own, she found an old player piano somewhere, and arranged to have it brought home. At the time, I thought that she had made a huge mistake, but she got it tuned and it didn't sound half bad. She started playing again and actually taught lessons for a while. I imagine that from time to time, she played some of the old tunes from the songbook that we  had used over and over again. I know for a fact that she had memorized at least one of them.

Dogs

Years ago, my grandmother used to make these elaborate meals at Balloon Rally time. I recall that she put together most of it by herself. The highlight was a balloon cake that she would make every year. The cake would serve a dual purpose, as my Dad's birthday always coincides with the balloon rally.

Each year most of us would complain that it was just too much work for my grandmother and eventually she conceded that it was. In later years, Tammie would get chicken barbecues from Stearns in Alfred for Friday and then we would prepare dozens of hot dogs on Saturday. Several years, we went to the Texas Hot Restaurant to get them, but it seemed as though everyone in town had the same idea. As a result, we made the dogs ourselves and just bought some Texas Hot sauce to put on them. Here Tammie and Mike load the dogs onto my grandmother's permanent gas grill.  I was either conveniently hiding or playing a game of wiffleball somewhere.

After the tremendous hot dog feast, it was time to clean up our mess. Tammie always was in the middle of the cleaning up part and would instantly become frustrated as her help slowly dwindled away. I have never been good at grilling dogs, but I always made sure to help pick things up. I was too afraid not to!

Train Whistles, Memories and Love

I miss the magic of being in bed and listening to the whistle as the train roared by Dyke St. I remember wondering where it was headed and wishing that I could be on it. I could never figure out how to make that happen, but the desire always remained.

We always looked forward to Easter and our trips to visit our grandparents. There was something quite homey and familiar about their home and town. For me, it was the beginning of spring and the chance to play my favorite game of baseball again. We had such great fun looking for baskets, my grandmother's penuche, and the opportunity to get outside and fly our new kites. Back then, it was my absolute favorite time. I loved being with my family and listening to all the great stories and moments spent with Tammie. When you are very young, you think times like those will last forever, but of course, they never do. Fortunately, my memories are strong, even if the photographs are faded.

I can still smell the Easter Lilly on my grandmother's dining room table, see the little rabbit ornament with the yellow egg in the middle, hear my Great-Grandmother's laugh, and smell my Grandfather's cologne. There was always a lot of loud talking and on occasion, my sister and I would get into a quarrel or two. Despite that, I never felt more comfortable and more me. Oh to spend one more Easter looking for baskets, eating ham and potato salad, and laughing with my aunts, cousins, and incomparable big sister.

A friend tells me that today is the true start of spring. When I look outside my home and at several feet of snow, that concept is not very hard for me to imagine. For after death there is rebirth and in the coldest winters and deepest snows, there is always hope. In a few weeks, the crocuses will pop out and the robins will return; life will slowly march on. We will embrace the new challenges that will emerge and even some happy times. I look forward to that, but will never forget the past. Many of the voices from those long ago times are silent now, but the people and their memory will always be with me. Most of all, I will remember my lovely sister, Tammie.

Not taken at Easter, but I like the photo!