Sea Street

THE GOLDEN ASS EMAIL

Some weeks ago, I ran a blog titled Black, White and Gray or the Golden Ass Café. It was to be the first of five sections. However, other matters came up and I addressed them in various blogs. In the interim, I was approached by a few people who said, "Was there really a place called The Golden Ass Café?" This quandary was solved a little over a week ago when I received an email from a man who had been brought to the Golden Ass Café by his mother in the early 1960's. He told me his mother's name and mentioned other people but in all honesty, I couldn't remember him or his mother or one of the artists he mentioned. So I emailed him back and asked him for more details and better descriptions and he replied with an email that jogged my memory. I am not disclosing his name but what follows is the subsequent emails of our correspondence. This is done with his permission.

----- Original Message -----
From: "S"
To:
Sent: Saturday, October 24, 2009 5:23 PM
Subject: Golden Asse

Hi David, I don't have much to say in this letter, my mother was
Gussie S. and she brought me to the Golden Asse Coffee house a
couple of times as well as the Exodos Gallery and her friend Connor
Everts who I believe is still around. She passed away a few years ago
and I was looking to see what happened to some of her old friends
that I couldn't find when she died. I Googled Alta King and your
article apeared. I have a copy of the book "The Golden Asse" signed
to her by Glen Bye. I've gone to the coffee house that is now in the
area and no one knows about the Golden Asse, and the bust for nude
paintings the police considered porn at the time. I just thought I'd
say hi and tell you my story.

S.

Dear S.

Your e-mail totally blew my mind. I left California in the mid-70's and
beyond my three California children, who are all grown up now, I have
practically no California contacts; but your e-mail brought back many
memories and beyond that, proved to my wife that I didn't make the "Golden
Ass Cafe" up. I must admit that I don't remember Connor Everts or your
mother; perhaps you can send me enough information to jog my memory--photos,
descriptions, etc.

Thank you.
David

My mother Gussie S. was a heavy set woman and she took painting lessons upstairs at the Exodus Art Gallery, now my memory fails me a little as the the location on 6th St. of your coffee house, but the gallery run by Connor Everts was on the south side of the street upstairs and the staircase was marked with an X, your Coffee house was either down below or across the street, there is a vacant lot there where the gallery was today. The gallery had artists like Edward Kienholz and John Wesley showing. Connor Everts was married to an Asian woman artist named suzoko and owned the gallery and back then he did a lot of pen and ink drawings of skeletons, once he had a showing of his work on the subject of returning to the womb and two police busted him and beat him up, it made the news back then and I believe he won the case. I understand he is still alive and living in Torrance somewhere but I really don't know. I believe a guy who worked for the News Pilot named Allen Peterson also was at that gallery.

My mother had black hair and was recently widowed at that time, she had a very pretty face and liked to sing a lot of folk songs though she wasn't a singer. I would have to look up and scan some younger fotos of her as all the ones I have right now are from her 80's. I think she just started working for the Department of Employment, she became good friends with Alta King, maybe at the Golden Asse, but I do remember going to her house over near Cabrillo Beach just above Pacific Ave., she may still live there with her husband John King. I kinda knew her youngest daughter and remember sitting with her in her basement (I think it was one of her older sisters room) to watch TV as the adults drank tea with natural sugar, avocados from her tree and lots of folk music. For a while I know that Alta worked as a singer at the Ports of Call.

I don't believe my mother understood how important some of the people you mentioned in your article were to the beat generation and I mentioned some to her and she didn't know who they were. When she was alive I had mentioned Bukowski as he was a San Pedro Resident back then, and she didn't know who he was. My mom also hung around Murial Olguin. I do remember a story of a couple of guys getting busted for pot in front of the gallery as well as the case where the nude paintings were interpreted by the police as porn trying to use the name "Golden Asse" as promoting porn somehow.

As I said I have a copy of the Golden Asse signed by Bye to my mother and I tried to donate it to the San Pedro Historical Society but no one knew about the Golden Asse, maybe I might bring it back to them with a copy of the story you wrote.

There is a coffee house in that area called Sacred Grounds, if you have more on the Golden Asse I might show them so they would understand the heritage of Coffee houses on 6th St. If you ever write more about the Golden Asse, I would sure like to know more, let me know. I'm 57 now but I was just a kid then, hey the Beatles didn't even happen yet!

S.

Dear S.

Now I remember your mother. As I recall, we had conversations about being Jewish. Since I am 70 years old now, you would have been 13 years younger than I and I was at the Golden Ass Cafe from age 22 to age 24 so you would have been a young kid and I believe that I have a vague memory of you.

I got involved with the Golden Ass Cafe because of a saxophone player named Gonzoles. He and I were both members of the 72nd Army Band stationed at Fort MacArthur. We played at the Golden Ass on weekends. Alta King sang Folk Music on Wednesday nights. I got discharged on January 20, 1962, my 23rd birthday and Glen Bye offered me a partnership for the amount of my discharge pay--about $1,500.00. No papers were ever signed; it was all done on a handshake; but it did guarantee me a steady playing job and a chance to baby-sit the coffee house when Glen was working. That's how I got busted for selling a nude painting of a fat woman in a rocking chair. At the same time a Buick automobile coil spring was seized because it was mounted on a wooden base with a brass plate that said "Poor Richard". When Glen and I ended up in Court, the main charge was in relation to the coil spring. It sat on the evidence table, painted red, looking provocative and the Prosecutor said that it represented a limerick titled "Poor Richard". The limerick had been written on the blackboard by a witness who was a professor of English Literature at Long Beach State. The limerick went something like this, "There once was a guy with a corkscrew prick who was commonly called poor old Dick". The limerick went on to declare that poor Richard's dick turned to the left. Our lawyer asked the Prosecutor if his case was built prima facie on said limerick. The Prosecutor said, "Certainly!" Whereupon our lawyer said, "Your Honor, I am asking for a dismissal of these charges since it is clear that this Buick coil spring turns to the right."

The Judge was laughing when he banged his gavel down and said, "Dismissed!!!!"

The other matter--the Nude Lady--was deemed to not be offensive to community standards. To my knowledge, this was the first use of the "community standards" defense and it ultimately led to the publication of pubic hair in magazines like Playboy. At least this is what I've been told and I take pride in that.

As for Alta King, she was my mother's age which would put her in her late 80's now. I googled her and found that she has her age listed as 75. Her husband, John, has his age listed as 65+ All I know is that John King was several years older than I. Considering all the time that has passed, it is comforting to know that they still live on Palo Verde Hill. Their house had a magnificent view of Los Angeles Harbor, the Long Beach Bridge and the expanse of the Pacific. I spent many wonderful evenings in their company and when my marriage to my first wife broke up, I gave them a painting of my daughter and some furniture which they may still have. I also briefly dated Alta's oldest daughter, Susan, an exquisitely beautiful girl.

You mention that Connor Everts had an Asian wife which brought him into focus for me because my first wife was a Japanese girl named Fujiko (who later became a well-known dress designer). I'm sure we got together at some point.

It was at the Golden Ass Cafe that I met and got involved with Alona Leshem who in time became quite famous in Israel.

One of our regulars was the Rabbi from Temple Shalom who invited me to sing the High Holiday Service that year. It was my first effort at being a Cantor. Since then, I have sung the Kol Nidre Service all over the world. I was like your mother in that many of the people who became famous beatniks did not make that much of an impression on me in those years. I remember Bukowski and Kerouac and Hunter and the night that Allen Ginsberg was busted for saying, "Jesus Christ was a man like me--balls and all."

It's funny looking back and realizing that at the time I didn't know that the Golden Ass Cafe would become a part of history. So thank you again, S., for reviving so many warm and beautiful memories.

David
Coming next week----------------Obama's Katrina
Be sure to watch David Rojay on The Dan and Dad Show each Saturday night at 9:30 on Channel 17. Read A RED STATE HERO AND THE LONG BRIDGE RUNNER by David Rojay on capecodtoday.com. Read Sea Street-David Rojay's blog on capecodtoday.com and finally check out David Rojay on YOUTUBE. For more information, Google "David Rojay". 

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"ALL GAB-----AND-----NO JAB"

All gab and no jab was a phrase used on me once after I talked and talked and talked to get a girl in the sack only to have things go badly. Barack Obama has talked and talked with much the same result. As for the Nobel Prize, Nelson Mandela spent twenty-six years locked up on Robben Island before uniting black and white South Africans. For this, he got the Nobel Peace Prize. Martin Luther King won the Nobel Peace Prize for reasons known to us all; Mahatma Gandhi struggled for a lifetime to free India from the British and never received the Nobel Peace Prize. Yasser Arafat, whose hands were covered with the blood of the innocent, received the Nobel Peace Prize. Henry Kissinger, who sat in on the bloody war counsels of Richard Nixon, also received the Nobel Peace Prize. Yitzhak Rabin, after a lifetime of heroic service to Israel, swallowed hard and shook Arafat's hand and for this received the Nobel Peace Prize.

The question is, "How does Barack Obama fit into this company and what is the Nobel Peace Prize worth?" First, let us consider the culture of our times; many fear an epidemic of Swine Flu but an even more dangerous epidemic, the epidemic of words infects our society. We are drowning in words and many, if not most of those words, are dishonest. We call lying "spin" i.e. he is "spinning the outcome." This was so apparent in the performance of Scott McClellen as Bush's spokesman, as to be funny. Even General Powell tried to "spin" the U.N.

The demands of the twenty-four hour news cycle cause talking heads to prattle on endlessly. Gloria Borger, talking about the war in Afghanistan, for example; or Roland Martin spewing his racist opinions about the Nobel Prize situation.

Talk in our culture, (which includes massive amounts of bullshit) is so pervasive that words loose their value. One of talks best practitioners is the wordsmith, Barack Obama. He has apparently talked his way into the Nobel Peace Prize; but I join with Michael Steele, the African American Head of the Republican Party, in asking, "What concrete achievements cause him to deserve this?" During his campaign, Obama constantly said, "We will change America and we will change the world." But at this point in his presidency, there is no indication that he can even change Washington, D.C., and certainly not the Republican Party.

If we go back a mere three years, Barack Obama is just a blip on the radar. He's done nothing that compares to Nelson Mandela or Martin Luther King or Yitzhak Rabin or even Al Gore; and this brings us to the question of the prize's value. If it can be given to Yasser Arafat, how much value does it really have? This award will add to Obama's most serious malady, the malady of expectations. Will he change his approach to Afghanistan now that he has the Peace Prize? I predict that in many ways, this medal will hang around his neck like a millstone*.

Today when I was in Rite Aid on West Main Street buying the New York Times, the cashier asked me what I thought and I said, "I think Barack Obama is all gab and no jab."

She laughed; but as I turned to leave, I could see that the man behind me in line was offended by my remark.

"Let's pray that Obama is successful in bringing peace to the world," he said.

After a short pause I replied, "I hope he's successful too, but before you can bring peace to the world, you have to be effective."

"I don't believe the prize was given for effectiveness," said the man, "I believe it was given for good intentions."

I did not say to him: The road to hell is paved with good intentions. But apparently the Nobel Committee believed in intentions also. A member of the Committee said on Public Radio that the award was given for the inspiration Obama has offered to the future.------ Fair enough, but when the recipient of the award was announced, there was an audible gasp in the room because, as an English lady said in Piccadilly Square, "What's he done so far?"

Of course, there's the standard vitriol from the right, especially from Rush Liverwurst. The prize was roundly criticized in the Arab world from Cairo to Riyadh. Of course, the only way the Arabs would justify him getting the prize is if by force of arms he made the Israelis give up Jerusalem, made them vacate the settlements on the West Bank with a promise not to destroy any of the new buildings or the equipment thereof and further forced them to welcome overseas Palestinians with parades and banquets. And last, but not least, saw to it that the entire Jewish population would end up on life rafts in the Mediterranean.

Giving credit where credit is due, Barack Obama is a good wordsman; he's not in the same class as Hemmingway, Faulkner or Langston Hughes but he's good for a politician.
However, I think there's great irony in all this. I believe that with the power of his words, Barack Obama has hoisted himself on his on petard.
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Be sure to watch David Rojay on The Dan and Dad Show each Saturday night at 9:30 on Channel 17. Read A RED STATE HERO by David Rojay on capecodtoday.com. Read Sea Street-David Rojay's blog on capecodtoday.com and finally check out David Rojay on YOUTUBE. For more information, Google "David Rojay".
See David Rojay with Lou Colombo at the Road House Café Monday night, October 12.

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THE IMPORTANCE OF THE IDEA OF GOD

The following blog is dedicated to Rosh Hashana 5770. It is from a Confirmation Speech given in the spring of 2001by Daniel Rojay who was sixteen years old at the time.

"A little bit of Prophecy"
THE IMPORTANCE OF THE IDEA OF GOD
by Daniel Rojay

What do we mean when we say God? What comes to mind? My father says the word God is a Germanic word that cannot convey the Jewish concept of "that which cannot be spoken". But on Cape Cod, as in the rest of the English-speaking world, the word "God" is the term of choice when referring to the Almighty. Too seldom do people contemplate how the use of the word God affects their emotional response. Does Dios, for example, or Adoshem evoke a warmer, more loving impression than the Germanic word God, a word of power and force. I ask this question in order to explain that the word God in my title should be understood to be a nebulous word, representing many facets.

The importance of the Idea of God .................. As we arrive at a new millennium the question on the lips of many is; does God exist? Does he exist or she exit or does it exist. It occurs to me that empirical proof is impossible one way or the other. My parents disagree on the answer. While my grandmother is sure, my grandfather only smiles in reply. But we all know one thing for certain; the Idea of God exists and has existed in most societies since the dawn of man.

The cover story for NEWSWEEK this past month is titled "God and the Brain". The article suggests that part of the brain is wired for spirituality, for belief in God. On the other hand, an imminent psychologist and friend of my father's says that the Idea of God is the result of conditioning and environment.

If we are born with spirituality, is it because God literally instilled it within us? What if the root of spirituality stems from fear and the desire for supernatural assistance? Should we call upon the Lord out of fear saying, "Oh God, save us" or should we call upon the Lord in love and adoration.

It is easy to assume that if the 20th Century had held more belief in the Idea of God, its many tragedies would not have occurred. This is said with my belief that the Idea of God is a good thing.
Surely the 20th Century demonstrates the tragedy of Godless ideologies. When Nietzsche spoke of "the death of God" did he know what disasters lay ahead?

The European soil that gave rise to Fascism and Communism had for centuries nurtured an aristocracy devoted to the Idea of God. An aristocracy that was the cultural descendent of emperors and kings who proclaimed themselves Gods, an aristocracy that insisted upon its divine right to rule.

The common man, looking to the aristocratic example, believed in God in a simple, trusting way; but most aristocratic regimes were corrupt and hypocritical, separated from a true Idea of God. The worst of these in Western history was that of Isabella and Ferdinand, the monarchs who instituted the Grand Spanish Inquisition. Excesses such as theirs' finally brought the aristocratic system down, undermining those who had believed in the aristocratic Idea of God. Did Hitler and Stalin arise out of this dissipation of faith?

After World War I, it was believed by many Europeans that man could go onward into the future without the Idea of God, needing only science, materialism and machinery. An Idea of God was no longer necessary. If you simply start with the year of my father's birth, 1939, you can conclude that they were right; an intervening God was on vacation.

There is a strange disconnect in America from these events. Unlike Europe, Religion in America has been and is thriving; I said Religion in America is thriving but what about the Idea of God. Is this idea thriving also? All one has to do is drive the roads of Cape Cod to be filled with doubt.

Religion in America is in most ways a mirror of our society. There is much concern about money and position. The Number One self-help book on the New York Times best seller's list is THE PRAYER OF JABEZ: BREAKING THROUGH TO THE BLESSED LIFE. Businesspeople say it has increased their profits; single women say it has found them boyfriends; and pastors say it has enlarged their congregations. I wonder if anyone has used it to pray for wisdom. Does this obsession with money and position connect us to the Idea of God? Why should we be connected to this idea? Why is this idea important in our lives?

You know, living on Cape Cod induces a strange sort of Parochialism. My mother says once we cross the bridge and enter into our quaint little cocoon we find ourselves in a place where not much goes wrong, natural beauty abounds, the roadways are lined with homes that look like set pieces. Our lives here make it hard to imagine someone in Kosovo, or Rwanda turning their face heavenward and crying out, "Oh, God, oh God, please help me." From here the poverty and wretchedness of the Mississippi Delta seems to be on another planet. Closer to home, a drive through Mattapan jars us. So why do we, the children of abundance and good fortune, need the Idea of God, the idea that there is something greater than ourselves, a sort of metaphysical referee who keeps on the winning side.

There is an idea afoot in America today that the "right kind" of people are entitled to decide the fate of others. Should we really trust them to decide the fate of others? This is why the Idea of God is so important; it is important because it gives pause to the powerful, the indulged, the spoiled and the arrogant. But this crowd is seldom stopped by the Idea of God unless that idea is firmly held by the whole population. Now here is a most important question; is the Idea of God held strongly enough by average Americans today to hold in check the greed and selfishness that permeates our society?

What are we to do? We must embrace that which is beyond ourselves to find our way. But what must we embrace, and where do we find it?

It is Torah* that distinguishes us as Jews. At the time of Moses the Idea of God was celebrated in Baal, the great bull of Babylon, in the pantheon of Greek Gods and often with human sacrifice. But the Jewish Idea of God took shape as Torah.

As Jews, we have in the Torah a blessing for ourselves and all mankind. Through Torah we have remained a singular people who have beckoned all peoples to civilization and good behavior. The Torah has helped us to set an example, an example that has cost us dearly but an example that has brought blessings to all. Even the Shoah** with its unspeakable tragedies, has caused Europeans to examine their souls as they never have before. And in our own country the Torah, as reflected in the ideals of civil rights and justice, has helped to change all Americans.

So I come back to my heading, The Importance of the Idea of God. Surely, even one who is not a believer in a literal God can understand the Importance of the Idea of God. This idea is profoundly necessary in today's America, a country that has enjoyed a leisurely ride to the top of the roller coaster where we now find ourselves waiting, holding our breath, leaning forward to peek into the abyss. Perhaps there would not be so much "fear and loathing in America" if more of us had filled our portfolios with trust in the Idea of God. This investment is one that has paid dividends to our people for millennium. A decade ago my grandfather bought a large block of Chrysler stock. As you may know since the merger, Chrysler hasn't done well. I recently asked him what his stock was worth and he said, "About enough to buy a bicycle." That is the way of the world; but the Idea of God and its representation in our blessed Torah never looses its value.

In closing, let me tell you that on every Shabbat*** since I was a small boy my father has asked me two questions. The first is, "Where is the beginning and the end of time?" and the second is, "Where is the beginning and the end of space?" I would think to myself, "If I got to the end of space........ what would be on the other side; and if I got to the end of time....... what would happen next?"

Of course, no one can answer these questions; but the contemplation of these questions can acquaint us with the indefinable, the indefinable essence that is the Idea of God. And when as a small boy I would say to my father, "I'll never be able to find the answer." He would reply, "Daniel, the search, the search is everything."

Let us all commit our lives to this Holy Quest, the search for the Idea of God.

*The first five books of the Bible------the Law.
**The Hebrew word for the Holocaust (Holocaust is a Greek word).
***The Sabbath, which begins at sundown on Friday and ends at sundown on Saturday.

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Be sure to watch David Rojay on The Dan and Dad Show each Saturday night at 9:30 on Channel 17.  Read THE LONG BRIDGE RUNNER and A RED STATE HERO by David Rojay on capecodtoday.com.  Check out David Rojay on YOUTUBE.  For more information, Google “David Rojay”.

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"YOU LIE"

Two words that have recently circled the globe and are still the subject of the twenty-four hour news circle are "You lie." These words, shouted by Congressman Joe Wilson, stunned me. They were, to be sure, against the protocol of the Congress; but taken in a larger context, how outrageous were they? Anyone who has watched a session of the British House of Commons knows that that atmosphere can become quite raucous. The British, of course, do not go as far down that road as say members of the South Korean Legislature who have been known to end sessions with fisticuffs. And, it should be remembered that there have been some pretty rowdy Congressional get-togethers in the American past.

In the public arena, President Obama has never been called the things that President Lincoln was called. Lincoln was called a baboon. And not everyone in today's America condemns Representative Wilson. When the marchers of the Tea Party Rally in Washington were asked by a reporter from CNN what they thought of Wilson on Saturday, thousands of them broke into roars of approval. Much was made of Wilson's opponent in the upcoming election raising four hundred thousand dollars within twenty-four hours of Wilson's statement. Conversely, Wilson has raised over a million dollars to date. And the question can fairly be asked, "Would the increased scrutiny of the Health Care Bill have taken place without Wilson's statement; would I be writing this blog without Wilson's statement?" The bottom line is that there is a fair amount of prevarication on the president's part. The president said flatly that no illegal alien would be given health care under H.R.3200 but when Republican Committee Members tried to insert specific Prohibitions into the bill, they were voted down along party lines. To put all of this in real terms, let's suppose for a moment that an illegal alien who is pregnant or an illegal child who is sick with a fever, or an illegal man who has been injured present themselves at the Cape Cod Hospital Emergency Room. We all know that they will be treated; the question is, "Who Pays?"

Now, let me make one thing clear at this point, I support a Health Care Bill but it has to be realistic and honest and it must be free of political hypocrisy. The Republican responder to President Obama's speech on Wednesday night was Congressman Boustany of Louisiana, himself a doctor. A great hue and cry rose out of the Democratic Caucus about the fact that Representative Boustany had received over four hundred thousand dollars in campaign contributions from the medical establishment. Now, here's the hypocrisy, Nancy Pelosi, Charlie Rangel, Steny Hoyer and many other Democrats have received more money than Boustany from the medical establishment. Charlie Rangel has received more than twice as much.

Another unrealistic facet of H.R.3200 is the stipulation that insurance companies cannot deny or cancel coverage. The medical insurance industry in America makes a three to four percent profit on every dollar grossed. According to my figures, this industry ranks eighty-sixth in corporate earnings. It's not Exxon Mobile and realistically it cannot, under present circumstances, meet the stipulations laid out in H.R.3200.

President Obama suggests that Government Health Insurance will force the insurance industry to be more competitive-more competitive than what? You can't get blood out of a stone!

Obama talks about paying for all of this with increases in efficiency; this causes me to laugh. Does he mean an efficient Government Program? As a Veteran, I have dealt with the Veterans' Administration which is government run health care. It's a mess, and I'm being kind.

None of this would matter so much if the United States weren't broke. The United States is not only broke; it's way past being broke. It's trillions of dollars in debt to lender countries like China-the main supplier of the junk at Wal-Mart. The real problem with all of this and many other things too, is that Americans, on the whole have their collective heads up their collective behinds. They have no concept of reality at all and wouldn't want to have one. Now, does that make me the one who's being rude?

My four surviving children, as a group, find it hard to believe that I don't support Obama in everything. My oldest son accuses me of prejudice. I don't think of myself as prejudicial, I do think of myself as being consistent and I have consistently called Obama an ego tripper and a jive master. At the same time I must say, "He's very good at it! One of the best." But I suggest that the American people should listen to him more closely and carefully examine what he says. I know one thing for sure, and this is a little bit selfish, but health care on Cape Cod is generally quite good. Here we have some world-class doctors and one of the best hospitals in America and although I agree with health care reform in theory, I don't want to see our situation on Cape Cod changed for the worst.

P.S. My wife, Karen, doesn't always agree with me and after reading this blog she said, "I think Wilson had a couple of drinks before he came to the Joint Session and I think he was really rude and disrespectful and I think he hates the President because he's black; after all he's from South Carolina."

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Be sure to watch David Rojay on The Dan and Dad Show each Saturday night at 9:30 on Channel 17. Read THE LONG BRIDGE RUNNER and A RED STATE HERO by David Rojay on capecodtoday.com. Check out David Rojay on YOUTUBE. For more information, Google "David Rojay".

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About Teddy

Too near, too often, too late

For twenty-two years I have lived on Sea Street, less than a mile from the Kennedy Compound. Does that proximity mean anything? Not necessarily. Like most Americans, the Kennedys have been a part of my life. I was on the Pasadena Freeway when I heard of JFK's assassination on the car radio. I pulled off into Highland Park and sat in front of a donut shop in my car in stunned disbelief. My wife, at that time, a Med student at UCLA and I spent the entire weekend in denial. This couldn't be happening.

I was at the Ambassador Hotel when Bobby Kennedy was shot in the kitchen.

Some years later, I was actually at the Ambassador Hotel when Bobby Kennedy was shot in the kitchen. Once again, I was paralyzed with disbelief. I had seen Bobby once before in Vincennes, Indiana; he was in a convertible sitting up on the top of the back seat and I said to my companion, "I think he's wearing pancake makeup." The look on his face left an indelible memory.

I never thought that much about the Kennedys in the years that followed. I watched Teddy stumble through his Presidential Campaign but I wasn't much interested. It wasn't until 1989 that I made a direct connection. Joan Kennedy asked that my restaurant, the Courtyard Restaurant on Main Street in Hyannis, cater a cocktail party for the yearly Concert on the Green by the Boston Pops. The other invited restaurant was the Asa Bearse House. I was pretty sure they would serve New England fare and I was sure it would be excellent. What could the Courtyard do that made sense?

I talked to my chef, Keith Swenson, and we decided to take an entirely different approach. We laid mirrors atop tables and put seashells and sea urchins on them. The centerpiece of all this was a roasted twenty-pound octopus, its tentacles intertwined. To the left was an elaborate fruit sculpture and all around the octopus was hundreds of pieces of sushi. Sushi being sushi, is very vulnerable to temperature and humidity so we had to plan all this carefully. We covered the entire display with a large silk sheet and when we lifted the sheet the crowd took one look and I heard a collective swoon as everyone swooped down upon the sushi and gobbled it up. It was a happy moment. Another time in connection with the Pops Orchestra, I saw Senator Kennedy in his white suit, conduct the Pops Orchestra through John Philip Sousa's Stars and Stripes Forever.

I saw him once in a while about town. Once in a bar on Ocean Street.

In the years that followed, I saw him once in a while about town. Once in a bar on Ocean Street, once at Blockbusters and once in the Westgate Pharmacy where he was reminiscing about the days when the Kennedy kids would gather there for treats.

I suppose these incidental encounters were experienced by many people in Hyannis. I knew people that knew the Kennedys; I knew the barber that used to do Rose Kennedy's hair. I knew the salesman at Puritans that sold Teddy his suits and I heard the standard gossip-pro and con.

In 2003-4, I was Campaign Chairman for the Jewish Federation of Cape Cod and as such sat on the Board of FEMA. The subject of allocations came up and I saw an opportunity to help the Noah Shelter for the homeless. I called Suzanne Norman, the Director of the Shelter and asked her if she would like for me to stage a telethon on Channel 17 at the Cape Cod Media Center. She was enthusiastic about the project and so, with the help of my wife and son and a small staff, we did three telethons that were quite successful. Prior to the third telethon, Senator Kennedy's office in Washington was contacted with the request that the Senator make a statement in support of our efforts. Much to my surprise we received something that exceeded all expectations.

I had never met the Senator face to face, I felt like I knew him; I felt like I knew him very well... Of course, this was Senator Kennedy's special gift.

The Senator had taken time from his busy schedule to go into a TV studio and record a plea for funds. This clip made a big difference that year. It was suggested to me that a copy of the telethon be sent to the Senator. This telethon featured an excerpt from a production of the Cape Cod Opera Company and I knew that Senator Kennedy loved opera. In addition to the opera excerpt, my son and I sang O Solo Mio and I sang Nessun Dorma. It wasn't until a year later that I found out the DVD had never been sent. I have always felt bad about this. But, in retrospect, I realized that Senator Kennedy had to deal with so much coming at him all the time that perhaps my omission didn't matter.

I thought about this the other day when I stood in front of Simmons Homestead, where Scudder Avenue and Pitchers Way meet, while filming the Senator's motorcade passing by. I was especially moved when the Kennedys put their windows down and called out "thank you" to the crowd that had gathered. People in the crowd shouted back, "Goodbye, Teddy. We love you Teddy and we love you Vicki."

Strangely enough, I realized then that although I had never met the Senator face to face, I felt like I knew him; I felt like I knew him very well... Of course, this was Senator Kennedy's special gift.

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PROMISES AND PLANS on MARTHA'S VINEYARD

The first time I met the girl of my dreams, I found myself promising her everything; I wanted her so badly. But I had no idea how to make all my promises come true and ultimately they didn't come true, and ultimately she left me. This is a metaphor for Obama's Dilemma. He has over promised and done it without a plan to make the promises come true.

Of course, at this time, I'm talking about Health Care Reform. All through his campaign he promised and promised and promised but Barack never developed a plan. He threw the whole thing in the lap of Nancy Pelosi who, pregnant with her own ideas, went into labor and delivered a mess. A plan that nobody understands, a plan that is unreadable, a plan that's given birth to myths and falsehoods.

The Town Meetings that have gone on and are going on demonstrate that some of the opposition to this is organized. There are people who obviously have talking points and there are people in different meetings who repeat the same slogans and statements word for word; but in my opinion, at least half of the folks that show up to interrogate their representatives are genuinely outraged citizens. In order to dampen down the protest, there's word out of Washington that the administration may forego the public option. In other words-government insurance, but this is not a good tactical move on the part of Obama and it will only embolden the opposition.

Obama has already used up a great deal of political capital vise-a-vie the Stimulus Plan. I recall he predicted that the sky would fall if his legislation was not passed. Now we know that the sky didn't fall and that the Stimulus Plan is not stimulating. He can't go back to Congress for any more money. All of this haunts his Health Care Plan like a ghost.

In defense of his agenda, he has compared himself to Lincoln. The difference between Obama and Abraham Lincoln is that Obama is no Abraham Lincoln. But Obama still had the cojones to say (and I paraphrase), "We're trying to do a lot, the same way that Lincoln tried to do a lot." WOW!!!! I have said all along that this guy's an ego tripper but those remarks took my breath away.

The main difference between then and now is that Lincoln had a Civil War to fight. And, speaking of war, Napoleon said, "You can't fight a war without a General." and Obama has yet to name a Secretary of Health, someone who could Shepard his Health Care Program through Congress. He has also failed to name his own Inspector General, someone to watch how trillions of dollars are being spent. He is fighting two Wars, but does not have an Army Secretary. He is trying to fix the Financial Markets but does not have a Secretary for Financial Markets. He also does not have anyone running the Agency for International Development. In all, more than half of agency heads and assistant heads have not been appointed. But why bother with all that; it's vacation time.

Yesterday I drove to Woods Hole where my wife and I love to walk around the hole. It's a beautiful scene, especially the garden that adjoins the bell tower that sits on it's far side. When we are finished walking, we like to go to Pie in the Sky and have one of their vegetable wraps. I'm not a vegetarian but since my heart attack, I've been moving in that direction. Coming home, we take the drive past Nobska Light on into Falmouth Heights. There's a good view of Martha's Vineyard the whole way. The Heights, which used to be home to the Four Brothers' Hotel back in the day, affords a good vantage point from which to view Oak Bluff with binoculars. Our President is over there vacationing, mingling with the types that voted for him. Now a days, there's just a tiny little bit of concern among them, concern that a President elected for his charisma may not have it all together. I see it in the faces of the media-Candy Crowley, Jessica Yellin, Rolan Martin. I see it in the face of big mouth Jack Cafferty and especially Campbell Brown. All those who were unfair, even vicious, toward Hillary Clinton; and that includes someone I've always had a crush on-Maureen Dowd.

Speaking of Hillary, what's going on with our Secretary of State who visited Africa, made some pretty ballzy and much needed speeches; but who, in the end, blew it all away by loosing her temper when her husband's name came up.

But back to Martha's Vineyard and the vacation, this is not a good time for a Presidential vacation. Speaking of timing, what about the time recently when Obama was in Moscow and took his second night off to have a date with Michelle at Moscow's most exclusive restaurant. This was no time for dating. Obama should have been meeting with Russians. He was sent there to do the people's business in a style that cost American tax payers a million dollars a day-Air Force One, the entourage and all that.

But now, Obama will spend time mingling with the beautiful people, the crowd that-on the whole-funded him. I expect that he will make a side trip to Hyannis Port to call upon Teddy Kennedy. The Kennedy Compound is just a few blocks from where I live, but I don't expect to see the president on Sea Street. Sea Street is not populated by the wealthy or the famous-the crowd that Obama feeds upon. I'm sure he won't be coming to see me, I'm just an average American; but at the same time, I'm one who knows average Americans very, very well and I know their patience is running out. They are fed up with the crowd in Washington. If things don't change as promised, they'll roll down on that crowd like a mighty boulder crushing and pulverizing as they go.
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Be sure to watch David Rojay on The Dan and Dad Show each Saturday night at 9:30 on Channel 17. Read THE LONG BRIDGE RUNNER and A RED STATE HERO by David Rojay on capecodtoday.com. Check out David Rojay on YOUTUBE. For more information, Google "David Rojay".

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Current Thoughts

1.) LOSS OF COOL
     Professor Gates lost his cool, 
     Officer Crowley lost his cool too,
     and President Obama lost his cool also.
     To loose your cool is human;
     to pull back is even more human
     but not everyone wants to pull back.
     Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton have been "basking in the glow"  
      since the death of Michael Jackson. They are reluctant to pull
     back. When it comes to these two-anything racial will do.
     On the other hand, pulling back will deny Rush Liverwurst his
     rant. 
     This is America----------------------------------------------------------
     And....
     Professor Gates has already garnered tons of publicity for his
     upcoming documentary. 
     Officer Crowley will undoubtedly write a book titled
     "Racialgate" 
     and our President will hopefully avoid use of the word
     "stupidly".

2.) FASCISM AND FILM
Speaking of stupid, the trailer for Quentin Tarantino's new film, "Inglourious Basterds" is the epitome thereof-a kneeling Nazi is confronted by Brad Pitt, "So you want to die for the fatherland," Pitt says with a baseball bat or some other club in his hand. Surely a boy should not be sent to do a man's job; and Hollywood is filled with aging boys instead of men. Men do not bash a helpless prisoner's brains out. Can you imagine Jimmy Stewart John Wayne, Gregory Peck or Kirk Douglas doing this (well, maybe Kirk Douglas). The aforementioned gentlemen are from an era when Americans thought of themselves as noble.

Personally, I didn't see anyone's brains being bashed out in Korea; but the frustration of Viet Nam bred a mentality which said, "If we can't win the war on the ground, we'll win it in the movies. We'll send in a short guy from Philadelphia who has eaten so many Philly steak and cheese sandwiches that he's developed a speech impediment-we'll call him Rambo, a character out of the "Art of War" by Sun Tzu. Rambo will do what American heroes have never done, he'll make himself a copy of the monsters that threaten our way of life thereby exciting every little boy and punk-ass in the theater. Tarantino is following the same formula.

If Quentin had grown up in, say, Providence-he would have encountered opera and a lot of good Italian food; but Quentin grew up in Austin, Texas, the capital of American Fascism and this has affected him.

As for my advice-don't see this movie unless you want some cheap titillation.

3.) LOUD MOUTHS
The feud between Keith Olbermann of MSNBC and Bill O'Reilly of FOX News is over. They have been saying nasty things about one other for years. Olbermann consistently awarded O'Reilly the honor of being "the worst guy in the world"; but their corporate parents-Murdoch, et al and General Electric have pulled the plug and it's about time.

I have never been a fan of Bill O'Reilly and in one of my TV skits I said that President George W. Bush had the O'Reilly Factor--a disease where the mouth gets bigger than the brain. But to be fair-O'Reilly does sometimes try to be fair, just a little bit. He also has a sense of humor (if you're Irish). Keith Olbermann, on the other hand, is a Liberal who was and is basically, a sports announcer. A little less yelling on news channels is a welcome thing. This was all started, pretty much, by Pat Buchanan on Crossfire several years ago. We end up with O'Reilly, Hannity, Beck and Buckhannon. Why are these loud and rude men all members of the same crowd? On the other hand, Larry King, Jon Stewart, Bill Maher and Wolf Blitzer are members of another crowd (gentlemen one and all). Although Bill Maher dismisses his association, but as we all can see, "his nose knows".
Next week I'll get back to Black White and Gray and the Golden Ass Café and talk about the Diverse Crowd.

Be sure to watch David Rojay on The Dan and Dad Show each Saturday night at 9:30 on Channel 17.  Read THE LONG BRIDGE RUNNER and A RED STATE HERO by David Rojay on capecodtoday.com.  Check out David Rojay on YOUTUBE.  For more information, Google “David Rojay”.

CONCERT at the Railroad Station in West Barnstable featuring Emmy Award winning Singer/Songwriter, Jul3ia Richard, PLUS, Direct from L.A., Singer/Songwriter, Dan Rojay.  Concert will begin at 7:30 p.m. on Saturday, August 15.  Free Will Offering for Admission.

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BLACK, WHITE AND GRAY AND THE GOLDEN ASS CAFE....OBAMA'S DILEMMA

                                BLACK, WHITE AND GRAY
AND THE GOLDEN ASS CAFÉ ...........OBAMA'S DILEMMA
Part 1 of 5 or 6?

A Prairie Home Companion was on PBS; Garrison Keillor was introducing Arlo Guthrie. I've never been into that sort of folk music thing but as I listened, I realized what a pro Arlo had become; his voice was strong and he had a great band. Of course, he did a tribute to his dad and that got my attention. Woody Guthrie had sung at the Golden Ass Café, the coffeehouse I owned with Glenn Bye in San Pedro, California. The name was from a story by Demosthenes but the cops didn't know from Demosthenes, they were always trying to bust us.

This was in the early sixties and everyone came by-Woody and Kerouac, Hunter Thompson, even Allen Ginsberg. Allen was there on a Friday night-Jazz Night-a night of "Nights in Tunisia" and many other hits of the day. I sang "Little Girl Blue" and played "The Preacher" on the trumpet along with "Bags Groove" in G Minor, my favorite trumpet key. There was poetry and readings with or without accompaniment. Kerouac and Thompson took turns reading and sleeping with Jack's wife. Sex was "in" like a great surf wave washing over everyone and everything and yet I couldn't seem to get laid, not until Alona came along. I'm using her real name because she passed away three years ago. By that time in her life, she had had many lovers-some of them famous-famous in Israel at least; but I got in at the beginning, she was only twenty-three and a great beauty. I loved her terribly.

But I'm getting away from my point. The point is that the Golden Ass Café was a Populist Liberal hangout-Wednesday and Saturday were Folk Nights. Glenn and I called the Wednesday and Saturday night crowd "The Heartland Crowd". Our "In-House" Folk Singer was Alta King, a gifted beauty in her early forties. I say that now because at the time I thought she was an old woman. She had three daughters and I ended up with one of them after Alona and I called it quits-it took Alona three years to realize I wasn't going to be rich and famous. "I can't wait for you to succeed," she said.
But I'm off track again. The point I wanted to make is that all of the habitués of The Golden Ass Café were middle-of-the-road liberals-they would have been Obama people; but all they had was Hubert Humphry-especially the Friday night crowd. Glenn and I called it the "Diverse Crowd" long before the word "diverse" took on social and political connotations.

Where am I going with this? I am going to suggest that in its own way, the Golden Ass Café was a metaphor for America. Of course, to be a true metaphor, the Golden Ass Café would have needed a Country and Western Night. The closest I came to Country and Western in the sixties was in 1968 when I played trumpet for Ike and Tina Turner. It seems that one night the Turner Show was on the bus heading for The Palomino Club in the San Fernando Valley.

"Has anyone ever been to The Palomino Club?" Ike asked.

Well, in truth I had driven by it. It had a large sign in front, which boasted a Palomino horse's head. When I told Ike this he said, "Manny" has fucked up again."

"Manny" was Ike's agent-The Palomino Club was Country and Western front to back and at the end of the first show when the band and Tina and the Ikettes emerged from the bathrooms, we all came out to face a phalanx of rednecks standing with their arms crossed on their chest presumably blocking our way to any of their women or any of their tables.

As I said before I wasn't into folk music and I said to Glenn, "What do we need with that crowd? They're not that bright and they're all white."

The Friday Crowd (Jazz Crowd) was made up of whites and blacks and grays (slang, at that time, for anyone who wasn't white and wasn't black).

Glenn took issue with me, he said, "The White Crowd pays the bills. Your buddies on Friday night aren't buying coffee and drinking; they're out in the alley sucking on grass."

As I said before, when I look back at the Golden Ass Café in those days, I see it as a metaphor for Obama's supporters today and therein lies Obama's Dilemma. Naturally, he loves the Diverse Crowd, the crowd at his inauguration was diverse and he mentioned this in his inaugural speech; but millions of Middle Americans-whites and grays-voted for him also and his dilemma is balancing the support of these groups. The American Revolution was built upon the phrase, "No Taxation without Representation". Since Obama has become president, the Heartland Crowd is under-represented while the Diverse Crowd is overly represented in the national culture.

I pay close attention to the media and I've noticed how, and to what extent, black is in. This is definitely true on CNN where the percentage of black talking heads far outweighs the black demographic. I noticed on CBS Evening News the other evening that when a panel was formed to discuss the effect of the recession on job prospects for college graduates, the panel of six had one white. This is not representative of the American population. Bill Maher has picked up on this and has run a segment taking note of this factor. All this may seem amusing to some but it's a source of anger in Middle America.

I'm making these points because, with the appointment of Sonia Sotomayor to the Supreme Court, the urge to diverse has brought us to a place where we could have a Supreme Court with six Catholics and two Jews. Does this represent the American people? Will this Court overturn Roe VS Wade? Will it do damage to the position of Church and State?" I want to believe that fairness will rule the day but my gut tells me to worry about it.

The Heartland or Middle American population is out there in the great open space between the East and West Coast away from the diverse cities. If one were to travel south and take a right turn on Fifth Avenue and follow the Lincoln Highway all the way to San Francisco, they would encounter this America.

My oldest son, Eliott, who teaches History in San Francisco, argues with me about the makeup and nature of America. By the way, he teaches American History but I told him the last time that he sat in my living room and dismissed my concerns about Obama as "pure prejudice", I said, "Eliott, the problem here is that you have never been to America. You grew up in L.A., you have friends in New York and you live in San Francisco. You've just flown across America and that's why I'm concerned; because if you do travel out the Lincoln Highway, you will realize that very close to eighty percent of the American population is white anglosentric people."

At one time, I lived in New York in the Village and my home base for nearly twenty years was Los Angeles; but, as a musician, I have performed in thirty-one states. I know Middle Americans; they are on the whole, a fair minded easygoing people who are slow to anger but once aroused, they respond with fury. Obama must keep this in mind. He has already given this group some cause for concern. By now they know that he doesn't walk on water even if he does have a Messianic Complex and they are beginning to criticize him. Richard Posner, the author of twenty books on law and economics including "A Failure of Capitalism", says that Obama's stimulus program "lacks a plan; he is improvising." Posner has a point, the urgency and near panic with which Obama pushed the Stimulus Plan is totally lacking now. There is very little evidence of it in the job market. It's also being administered in a slightly haywire manner. It was just reported on CBS News that hundreds of millions of dollars are being dumped on small local airports while major airports like LAX in LA lack funds to purchase much needed safety equipment. On top of this, the refurbishing of small airports is generating very few jobs. The girl who is in charge of this seemed young, inexperienced and just a little bit wacky (a former campaign staffer?).

Ironically the French whom Obama's people criticized for not taking things seriously enough have a flat out Stimulus Program underway which is employing tens of thousands of people.

David Leonhardt, writing in the New York Times, talks about the thirteen trillion dollar deficit Obama programs will generate and he says, in effect, that this deficit will take on a life of its own with disastrous results i.e. sky-high interest rates and a radically weakened dollar.

Even Maureen Dowd, a vehement Obama supporter who savaged Hillary Clinton during the Election Campaign, said recently that Obama is doing everything that Dick Cheney wanted him to do: 1.) Suspending Habeas Corpus, 2.) Trying to persuade the top terrorists to plead guilty of their crimes so that they can be executed without a trial, 3.) Allowing the NSA to read more email than ever before, 4.) Giving in to the military's demand that the most recent set of torture photos not be released. According to the military, this was to avoid stimulating recruitment by terrorists. I believe it had more to do with covering up officers' asses.

Am I making any sense?

The Woody Guthrie people out there in Middle America are natural Obama supporters if he pays attention to them. These are the people of "Grapes of Wrath". They don't believe they have been treated fairly. These are irreplaceable people. They are the people that make things that America needs; they are the people that grow the food that America eats. Let's face it; New York fashion designers and Hollywood producers don't do so well in machine shops. And "Coasties" sure as hell aren't farmers. Another place that Obama is running into problems with these people is through immigration policies. Obama would like to open the floodgates and in so doing increase Democratic voters. This has been done before in New York but this time Americans are out of jobs.

Yesterday I spoke to two young ladies at the beach who had been looking for work for six months. They both lost their jobs to low-wage immigrants. Ironically, just three days before meeting them, two Russian girls stopped me and my wife on Main Street and asked about a hostel. I took them to the Noah Shelter where they stayed the night. They told me they already had jobs at Star Market which they obtained at a Job Fair in Moscow. This is the problem in a nutshell. In due time many of the people who support wide-open immigration will have sons or daughters out there looking for work that doesn't exist and they may very well find themselves in that position also. Obama should seriously re-think his approach because wide-open immigration is what the Capitalists love. Their sons and daughters aren't threatened; they're in Harvard and Yale.

Next week......the Anti-Wasp Phenomenon

Be sure to watch David Rojay on The Dan and Dad Show each Saturday night at 9:30 on Channel 17. Read THE LONG BRIDGE RUNNER and A RED STATE HERO by David Rojay on capecodtoday.com. Check out David Rojay on YOUTUBE. For more information, Google "David Rojay".

CONCERT at the Railroad Station in West Barnstable featuring Emmy Award winning Singer/Songwriter, Jul3ia Richard, PLUS, Direct from L.A., Singer/Songwriter, Dan Rojay. Concert will begin at 7:30 p.m. on Saturday, August 15. Free Will Offering for Admission

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BASKING IN HIS GLOW

Michael Jackson died a few days ago. The night before his death he stood on a stage and talked about his upcoming fifty-concert tour. He seemed to be in good health and displayed his usual grace and humor. Only hours later, he was found in a comatose state. Even if Michael was taking Demeral and other narcotics, an overdose would have taken several hours to lead to cardiac arrest. The question that arises is, "Where was his doctor, his retainers and hangers-on during this period of time?" There is no point in dwelling on this, however.

I have strong memories of Michael Jackson. When my band-The Rojays-was touring the Midwest in the mid-eighties Greg Paxtis, my lead guitarist, sang all the Michael Jackson songs. The most popular of these was Billie Jean; you could hear the hand of Quincy Jones in it because of its strong jazz undertones. But the songs, in themselves, did not knock me out and were not the most popular songs in the band's repertoire. On the other hand, the whole package that Michael presented at that time-musical, visual and chorographical, was astonishing. Michael's dance moves did not compare with Nureyev's technique but they were more creative and the Moonwalk was brilliant. It was probably the most creative movement in dance in the last century. Add all of these things together with Michael's persona (gloves, etc.) and you have a package that WOWED the world. Michael was just as popular in Israel as he was in Japan. He was idolized in Europe. He was able to transcend race and be loved worldwide for what was inside of him; and that thing inside of him was pure genius.

Personally, I was most impressed with Michael's performing as a young boy. He was obviously-not only talented-but a very, very good boy. My own son, Daniel, was a musical prodigy in his own right; but he was not forced into a twenty-four/seven rehearsal schedule which would have deprived him of a normal life. Michael was deprived and this deprivation affected his adult life. Much has been made of this and the troubles that accompanied it; but it must be understood that Michael's sole aim in life was to please.

Now that he's gone, I find it distasteful that everyone is lining up to "Bask In His Glow". I watched Larry King with so many guests on his program wanting to talk about Michael that Larry, rather rudely, cut them off in order to move on to the next one. Liza Minnelli was there, of course. Usher made sense with his comments but the over-the-top melodramatics of others-Elizabeth Taylor, et al, turned me off. Deepak Chopra talked about Hollywood doctors that push drugs, and he was right in doing so; but that does not negate the responsibility of those who take them. Of course, Jesse Jackson is coming on stage with Al Sharpton right behind him.

In spite of this, let's not loose sight of a simple fact, Michael Jackson was one of the most extraordinary men of the last century. May he rest in peace and may we celebrate his life.

Starting July 5 on my Sea Street Blog: Black, White and Gray and the Golden Ass Café--------------------------Obama's Dilemma!!!!!

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In Praise of My Wife

What follows is an excerpt from The Long Bridge Runner, currently on-line:

How sweet is first love. It comes on like the weather-wondrous and unstoppable-and dresses its prey in sunshine or rain. "Snow" is a more apt description-Snow, with its chilly indifference. Still, the hope of sunshine is powerful and profound-stirring dreams, dreams of the future. Dreams out of the first grade reader where the father is tall and dark and the mother-wife-is blond and petit, living as they do on a tree-lined street of cozy homes with pets named Spot and Fido. A rainbow crowns this world; and there some day, Daniel thought, he would live happily ever after-just him and the little blond girl.

This is how I thought it would be but three marriages later-one to a Japanese dress designer, one to a Jewish Med Student and one to a professional singer, Jackie Rojay, that many people on Cape Cod knew-taught me that I didn't know anything much about marriage. The failed marriages were mostly my fault; for starters, I was selfish and narcissistic but I couldn't see that the way selfish and narcissistic people never can.

At age 43 I hit a brick wall. My wife, Jacqueline, the singer, ran off with a plumber and I lost my business-ROJAYS Night Club, the forerunner of Star Bucks. I was very disillusioned. As an entertainer I had played Los Angeles, Vegas, Atlantic City, New York and London. Cape Cod figured into this because Jackie and I had a young son and he needed a place to go to school and live a normal life. But now he was in Florida with his mother. My other three children were in California with their mothers. I needed refuge. My parents had moved to West Virginia from the Midwest where my stepfather and his partner had purchased Mountaineer Gas, the state gas utility. It was there that I did a lot of thinking through the spring and summer of that year.

During this period of time I walked for miles every day thinking about my life and what I had done with it. I realized that for better or worse I had always been a star (one of the minor grade perhaps) but I had been the first trumpet player in the Army Band, a well-known jazz musician in Hollywood and for the last dozen years or so a successful nightclub entertainer. I had always put myself first and cast other people in my life in supporting rolls-it was all about me. That doesn't mean that I didn't care about my children or to some extend look after the women in my life but I seldom considered what other people needed because I was obsessed with what I needed-an audience, a room full of people where I could prove my worth night after night. This was my sanctuary, my safe, familiar retreat from the world around me. I was good at it and I was in control. All those years of practice and hard work and struggle paid off but now as I walk the streets I realized it had led to the fix I was in. Perhaps I needed someone to care about, to love and protect-someone I could draw strength from.

I must say that when the time came, I wasn't prepared. I wasn't prepared for the first time I saw Karen, saw her prancing down the sidewalk in Fairmont, West Virginia. I was playing a Caesar's Super Club with Jacqueline but Karen's dazzling looks, her southern girl prissiness, her way of walking with her wrist out in front of her like an aquatic creature so impressed me that I drove around the block to get another look. Of course, she was gone and I never saw her again for ten years.

I was divorced then, working with a pickup band. Rebels and Redcoats was the place to be seen and I was there when she walked in one night with a friend. She walked the same way, the ambling shambling gait described in the song "One" from A Chorus Line. I couldn't get up the nerve to approach her so I gave the maitre d' twenty bucks to copy her phone number off of the check she made payment with. One phone call the next day led to our first date.

Karen suggested Permons, the only three-star Michelin rated restaurant in West Virginia. 

The menu had no prices on it. This worried me and when the salads arrived they were full of assorted nuts. This worried me even more. I had spent my adult life in restaurants and nightclubs and knew that nutty salads meant something. It turned out that the girl who took the salad order was not a waitress or the waiter. No, indeed, the waiter arrived with the attitude of a descendent of the Hapsburgs-full white apron to the floor, a black formal vest and, as an indicator of the way things were, His sleeves were not folded up but rather held together with cufflinks that had Permons embossed on them.

"Permons," is what I had said to my stepfather when he asked me where I was going.

"Geeze, that's the most expensive restaurant in West Virginia," he remarked, "Here, take another hundred dollars."

That meant I had a total of two hundred and twenty dollars in my wallet and wondered ‘Would it be enough?'

The restaurant earned its Michelin rating. The filets were succulent, almost beyond the taste of meat and Karen ate hers with an intensity that made the hair on the back of my head stand up. She cut into it, sliced into it, chewed on it, forked it and finally put it between her juicy lips. She applied her napkin, a peach colored napkin, with a choreography of daintiness. She was darn near prissy, I thought and that was perhaps what had attracted me to her in the first place. Her beautiful cool prissiness.

After she had finished her filet and excused herself to go to the ladies room I noticed that every man in the restaurant stopped eating and watched what her body did to the silk lavender dress that she wore. Walking back toward the table, I knew that this was the most beautiful woman I had ever had anything to do with. I would only have her for an hour or two or maybe three. She would never date me again, I couldn't afford her, I couldn't even afford the thought of her and there was more to her than beauty; she possessed a playful teasing quality that she had shown in a tour of her office before we rode the fifteen floors up to Permons.

Her office was impressive, very impressive. She was no secretary; indeed, she described herself as the Tri-State Director of Tri-State Enterprises. "We have various holdings from West Virginia to Kansas" she said almost as an afterthought and then she teasingly sat on the front of her desk and crossed her gorgeous legs.

"My real background is in law. I read law at Morgantown. In fact, I started working for a lawyer when I was a freshman in High School."

And then, before I could think of anything to reposit she said, "Let's go eat," and jumped out onto the floor her pristine breasts bobbing in unison.

Yes, it would be over soon, I thought, ‘Why is she here with me-just because I called her on the phone and told her how I got her number and said ‘yes' when she asked if I had ever played in Fairmont.

I made up my mind before the dinner was over, before I laid out two hundred dollars to pay the bill, leaving slightly more than twenty dollars for a gratuity. I had twenty dollars left for gasoline and I would need it all to get back to Sterling-the sooner the better! This woman would never see me again and even if she said she would I couldn't afford it.

I thought to myself, before I go I'll do a little intellectual quiz and I began to talk about literature in a way that I thought would be impressive. Finally I asked, "Have you read Robert Browning?"
"Do you mean Elizabeth Barrett Browning's husband?" she asked thereby putting an end to my thoughts of intellectual superiority.

She wanted to walk around the block after we rode the elevator to the lobby and I walked with her without touching her. Finally she put her right hand inside my left elbow and stayed that way until I let her back in the car.

I was heading back to her house when she said, "Have you ever seen the river at night?" The Ohio was a block away and we parked above the marina and watched the reflection of Huntington upon the water. A coal barge passed by in front of a red and white tug. "It's romantic isn't it?" she said.

I laughed out loud, "A coal barge?" Then I started the motor and once again began the trip to her house.

When I got there I said, "Go in, please, and check everything, check your closets and your locks and all that and then come to the door and wave to me."

Karen felt as if she was being discarded and she was. It wasn't that she wasn't beautiful enough, smart enough, classy enough, sexy enough. On the contrary, she was much too much of all the above and when I saw her waving from her front door I pulled away with an uncharacteristic squall of my tires. But before I got to the freeway I remembered the record album and the roses that I had brought as gifts. She can have the roses, I thought but I only have about a dozen of those albums left and I drove back and knocked on her door and she had the album in her hand.

"May I use your bathroom before I go?" I said in a cold mater-of-fact way.

Afterward, as I started to leave she stood by the door and locked it and said, "It's getting too foggy. I don't want you driving in all this fog. You can sleep on my couch and I'll make you breakfast in the morning; and I didn't argue but I wasn't playing games, I went right to sleep thinking about my son in Florida.

In the morning I heard music which I recognized as being a record I had made ten years earlier, "Woke up this morning about noon or one, opened up the curtains and I let in the sun, I looked around for you but you're not there......" And as the record played Karen came back into the living room and knelt on her carpet and said, "I've played that record every morning for the last ten years. I've always wondered what you would be like. I had fantasies about you." She giggled nervously as she continued, "I truly did."

Her face was flushed now and in a very deliberate way she stood and held out her hand to me and led me into the dining room where she had set the table with juices, croissants and, what I came to know as, her legendary omelettes.

This was twenty-six years ago and Karen and I just celebrated our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary on March 5. In these twenty-five years she has taught me how to care for, protect and love someone because she has always cared for, protected and loved me. While having dinner at Albertos on our anniversary she raised her wine glass and said, "Here's to the next twenty-five years."

Realistically I think that's unlikely; but I'm going to take care of myself and try to live with Karen as long as I can.

Coming in May--Black, White and Gray--Obama's first 100 days.

Karen Rojay can be seen in upcoming episodes of The Dan and Dad Show, Saturday nights at 9:30 on Channel 17.

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