BOOM! Pop Culture Chronicles
By Mike Olszewski
We all come to those pivotal moments when you have to make life-changing decisions: stuff like what school to attend, who to marry, what job to take … and where you plan to live.
That last one is familiar to empty-nester Boomers or, in the case of my blushing bride and me, those of us sick of battling winter weather.
Yeah, I know we’ve already seen some subtropical temperatures but we’ve decided to plan ahead and become snowbirds. Our family in Florida finally convinced us to spend part of the year in the Sunshine State, but we’ll be back in Ohio for summers because any Northerner who claims you get used to the heat down South has likely never been there.
Yes, But…
People ask, “Aren’t you going to miss (fill in the blank).” Family and friends? We have a feeling, once word gets out that we have an extra room, we’ll get calls from folks we haven’t heard from in years, asking, “Hey, by coincidence, we’ll be passing through Gator Breath, Florida. Can we stop by?”
Our old neighborhoods? Time passes, things change and the world we grew up in no longer exists. What will keep us connected during our time down South? Pop culture.
Mass media has become universal with the internet, cable and satellite TV, social media and the rest. TV and radio as we knew them no longer exist, and if you thought movie theaters couldn’t get any smaller, you’re in for a surprise. With streaming, you get first-run flicks in your living room. Those big-box theaters are closing up to make way for distribution centers. We visit Florida every year and any Northerner (or as they say down there, “Yankee”) will tell you the Deep South is really another planet. What will keep Janice and me sane are the books, films and recordings we’ve accumulated over the years in anticipation of the big move. Some called it obsessive; I call it insurance.
Why would I listen to “John Boy and Billy” or “The Bert Show” on the radio when I have hundreds of hours of Dick “The Wild Child” Kemp, Ginger Sutton and Doc Nemo? I don’t like people yelling at me, so new music (read that as “product”) holds no interest, but the Damnation of Adam Blessing, Hendrix and most of the acts that broke through the ‘80s will always have a place in my CD player.
Books? We have Gray and Company (who publishes our books) with Northeast Ohio history. Paul Orlousky or Neal Zurcher’s books are a keystroke away. News? I have no interest in watching Beachcomber Barbie and Malibu Ken smile through the latest tragedies. True journalism on TV has given way to sensationalism and there are plenty of places online to keep informed. If I want to see real news people, I can look up Doug Adair, Tom Field and Dorothy Fuldheim. And that brings us to my next point.
Dozens of ethnic groups that emigrated here gave us a truly cosmopolitan but still localized sense of what we found relevant or funny. Play a clip of Ernie Anderson’s “GhoulardI’ or Linn Sheldon as “Barnaby” to a person visiting from out of town. The humor escapes them, but for us, they were the original version of must-see TV.
We’re carefully packing for maximum efficiency, putting boxes inside others like a jigsaw puzzle. The moving van space is limited, so we’re getting creative with how we place things, but the most valuable stuff is our collection of memories. Fortunately, the location we are moving to is full of Greater Clevelanders. We look forward to starting a support group.
BOOMER TRIVIA: Last issue, I asked for the name of the legendary Chinese restaurant in downtown Cleveland that lined its walls with autographed photos from famous folks who dined there. That restaurant was Chung Wah’s. Next time, one of the best-loved comedies of the ‘70s was “Animal House,” and the basis for that movie is heavily linked to Northeast Ohio. How? I’ll have the answer in the next issue.
