Contest time

Dear Mr. Trout:

Will the New Year Baby Contest be held again? If so, what day is it held? I am not a contestant; I only want to place a wager. I think one of the girls in my homeroom class has a good chance to win. Isn’t that awesome? Do you have any favorite wagering parlors to recommend to me? Doesn’t this contest rival Powerball for pure excitement around here? Where is the announcement of the winner to be made? Will it be televised? Will it be featured on the Sam Lasante Show on Comcast’s 7 or 15? Will Sam Lasante interview the proud mother even if she gives birth past her bedtime?
Will the conversion to digital television on February 17th affect my TV reception of the announcement if a winner is not announced by then? I hope not. I still have rabbit ears. Not me personally, but our family’s television set. It is an old Admiral set. My ears can be described as cauliflower-like. I hate cauliflower. How about you Mr. Trout? Do you like cauliflower?
If I win some money picking the winner, then I will use some of my money to buy a new television set for the family so that we can watch American Gladiators on a 52 inch flat plasma! So cool, Mr. Trout, don’t you think?
Someone gave me a tip in gym class the other day. I was told that the winning child would be born out-of-wedlock? I wasn’t sure what that meant so I looked it up in the dictionary. I thought that wedlock was a Rastafarian hairdo; I was wrong. It means a bastard child. Pardon my language but that is what my dictionary had printed. I was told that it is impolite to use the term bastard anymore. Also you can’t use the term illigitimate anymore either. I am glad as that is one hard word to spell. A more correct term is love child. That is easier to spell. I looked up love child and it is defined as “a child born to two unmarried people who got jiggy with one another.” That is what I call being unlucky in love. Did you know Leonardo DaVinci was a bastard? I mean a love child. Sorry. They are only words and bastard sounds so cool and hip. We will study DaVinci next grading period. He was a great artist and a very smart man. They made a movie about some Code he invented. I thought the movie was so-oo boring. I liked Iron Man much better. Anyway it proves that having parents married to one another does not stop a person from being a winner in life.
My gramps told me that the rise in the number of illegitimate children places much higher costs on society for anti-poverty, criminal justice and education programs. He probably doesn’t know about Leonardo DiCaprio or his Code. He is boycotting the New Year Baby Contest and will play the lottery instead. He doesn’t think we should lavish gifts and attention on irresponsible, sexually frisky teenagers.
My neighbor won a pile of money the other year when a crack baby won the contest. That is what he told me, but he brags a lot. I don’t believe everything he tells me. Actually he told me the young mother won the prizes for having the little crack baby. He treated us to a king size bucket of Kentucky fried chicken down on Claude A. Lord Boulevard. Not the crack baby; that would be silly. My neighbor bought us the chicken.
I gotta go Mr. Trout, American Gladiators is on the tube right now, then I have to do some homework.
Sincerely,
Aiden Jaiden Naponavich
Lower Shaft, PA

Dear Mr. Naponavich:
Thank you for your letter. The contest surprisingly is scheduled to begin at the stroke of New Year on the gregorian calendar which is used in most of Schuylkill County. Bets can be taken at most fire houses and gaming parlors. It's popularity is growing and while it does surpass Powerball, it does surpass the Publisher's Clearing House Sweepstakes. Good luck A.J.!!

Altamont Free Festival

The Altamont Free Festival ended up as the most infamous musical concert ever held in Schuylkill County.

It was held on the grounds of the Schuylkill Mall in northern Schuylkill County. It did not have to end like that as it had the makings of a great day. The performers were outstanding: The Jordan Brothers, The Other Side, Lil’ Andy, Tony Karpee, The Schuylkill Haven Belvederes’ Drum & Bugle Corp, Big Barrel Emil Simodejka, Buddy Widel Trio, The Individuals, and The Pottsville Barbershoppers.
With so many in attendance at the concert, some speculated that it would surpass Woodstock or the Bavarian Festival for sheer spiritual energy – surely the dawning of the new age. The venue was moved just a few days before the concert started under order of the local district magistrate. This was a premonition of the negative things to come.
The show began at noon on a cold December 6, 1969 on a stage that was only four feet high and would be surrounded by members of the Pagans, the Warlocks and the local Shriners, who acted as bouncers. There were no other security forces, so if they got out of line, there would be no stopping them.
By some accounts, the Warlocks were hired as security when the Tremont Division of the Eastern Star refused – a story that has been denied by all involved. All of the groups had provided security for other events in the county before, without incident but they never worked together. Altamont would be certainly different. The Warlocks, The local Shriners, and the Pagans would be a bad mix and not worth the $500 worth of beer that was rumored to be their salary. Surprisingly enough, 400,000 fans showed up even though deer hunting season was in high gear. Such a crowd that day brought the traffic on Route 61 and Interstate 81 to a crawl and even strained the restroom facilities within the Schuylkill Mall. Yes, there was violence at the festival as well as chaos - too much to talk about even almost forty years later. It has been said that wherever one finds violence, chaos is usually right behind; this would turn out to be an “anti-Woodstock, “anti-Bavarian Festival” and be forever known as the dark side of musical culture, immortalized in Don McLean’s famous “Shoo Fly Pie” wherein Li’l Andy presided over the “sacrificial rite” on the day Schuylkill County music died.
Who can forget the performance of “The Pottsville Barbershoppers?” This is the legendary group known for its tight vocal harmony, characterized by their consonant four-part chords for every melody note. It is said that the Pottsville Barbershoppers inspired such national groups as The Four Freshmen, The Limelighters, and The Beach Boys. Dressed in their red and white stripped blazers, they had just completed a dazzling twelve minute a capella foul-mouthed rendition of “Good-bye My Coney Island Baby” and had just started their suggestive encore of “I’ll Take You Home, Kathleen” when the violence began to escalate to serious proportions. No one knows who started swinging the pool sticks at the boilo-crazed people in the first row or who throw the quart bottles of Kaiers. Some say the Pagans, some say the Warlocks and others say Those Shriners. Although the concert was filmed by Sam-Son Productions for a planned Holiday television special on Pottsville’s Channel 7, it was impossible to determine who swung that cue stick or threw the bottle that resulted in bodily injury. It was filmed by Sam Lasante with a Bell & Howell Zoomatic Camera and the police were sure that it would offer a “complete record of the Altamont Free Concert.” The film was replayed thousands of times but to no avail. The police determined that the film did not depict violence about to commence but rather just showed the after effects of the violence. It was often compared to the Zapruder film.
No arrests were ever made. When the Pottsville Barbershoppers suddenly left the stage to be taken away by van to the Dutch Kitchen in Frackville, the crowds dispersed. Most headed home, some lingered to do Christmas shopping at the Mall, while others were too overcome by boilo and Kaier's beer and remained in the parking lot for days.

I was one of them.

The Tale of Nutkin the Squirrel

Dear Mr. Trout:

Can you please tell us about the rodent that ended up in the county court a few years ago? Is he still around?

Sincerely,

Aiden Jayden McCool

Girardville, PA.

Dear Mr. McCool:

I believe you are referring to Nutkin the Squirrel, who made all the headlines a few years ago. Some of you may be unfamiliar with him, and/or have short attention spans. Well, here is the lowdown.

Apparently, when the Patriot Act became law in 2000, U.S. Attorney General John Ashcroft came down hard on Nutkin, the gray squirrel, who was living in Orwigsburg. It seems that the Patriot Act, which permits detention and deportation, had been broadly construed to include, not only humans, but also Sciurus carolinensis, better known as the eastern gray squirrel. Weeks earlier, I lectured against the Patriot Act at The Leiderkrantz Hall on Norwegian Street in Pottsville; I predicted that it could be used as a dragnet to round up the animal members of our beloved community that we call Schuylkill County.

No one listened to me.

I tried to inform my audience that Nutkin had been living in the Orwigsburg and had been totally acculturated to Schuylkill County. He no longer thought of himself as a Carolina squirrel. He had become a Skook; he had become one of us. He now preferred pierogies and funnel cake over acorns. While this made the law officials more determined, the Liederkrantz crowd was more interested in drinking Yuengling and singing old German songs.
Yes, several Decembers ago the Immigration officers arrived at The Nutty Pear Restaurant on Adamsdale Road. With that knock on the door, the Carolina squirrel dropped his hot Irish nut mixed drink and went out the back door. The burly Chief of Immigration turned to his fellow officers and yelled:

“Listen up, ladies and gentlemen. Our fugitive has been on the run for 90 minutes. Average foot speed over unever ground barring injuries is four miles per hour; that gives us a radius of six miles. What I want out of each and every one of you is a hard target search of every gas station, residence, warehouse, farmhouse, henhouse, outhouse and doghouse in that area. Checkpoints go up at fifteen miles. Your fugitive's name is Nutkin J. Squirrel. Go get him!”

Squirrels are most active in late winter when the mating season begins. In fact Nutkin was at the Nutty Pear in hopes of getting lucky that night. The spry rodent eluded the feds, but was spotted at Renninger’s Market the next afternoon trying to pass a bad check at a natural foods stand. He quickly hijacked the STS Cabella’s bus and headed north on Route 61 at a dangerously high rate of speed, but as there were no passengers aboard, no one was hurt. Abandoning the bus in Pottsville at the site of the planned intermodal bus station, Nutkin then blended into the stream of the one or two passer-bys walking on Centre Street. Within an hour, the Immigration officers then stormed the abandoned Atkins Building under the assumption that the place would be a natural hideout for the furry fugitive.

They were wrong.

Nutkin had entered the packed Majestic Theater and watched the Clark Gable film matinee, Manhattan Melodrama. Squirrels primarily rest in the afternoons, so the renovated theatre was the perfect mid-afternoon location for him as well as a few courthouse employees.

Despite the fact that the sweat glands of a tree squirrel are located on their feet, the city police's bloodhounds could not pick out his scent from others wandering about on Centre Street. Once again, Nutkin had did the impossible, he eluded the massive police hunt.

Days went by. It was rumored that the fugitive had landed a Section 8 apartment under an alias and assumed various identities. He would sometimes impersonate a pediatrician, an attorney, a pilot at Joe Zerbe International Airport, or a professor at Penn State Schuylkill, where he taught one full semester of Philosophy. Students there described him as “nutty” or “squirrelly.” One freshman gave the following account, “he had a slender body, a gray belly with a thick bushy tail, but he was a damn good professor. He taught me the meaning of life. Aren't we are all squirrels trying to get a nut?”
Nutkin apparently lived a charmed life in the county seat for many months bouncing from one occupation to another. The fascinating rogue rodent loved the challenge of taunting local law enforcement officers.
The thrill of escape boosted his furry ego. He had an uncanny ability to, first bait, and then elude the law enforcement authorities at the last minute during their game of "cat and squirrel." His notoriety became widespread. He was featured on the Fox Show “America’s Most Wanted: The Hunt For Nutkin” and “When Good Squirrels Go Bad.”

But he finally got caught. Skateboarding illegally on Center Street. The case ended up in court and the county judge threw the book at him. He was sentenced to be hanged in the prison yard and then led away by the Deputies in leg irons. The Food Channel got exclusive rights to cover the event for its upcoming Pennsylvania Dutch Special, “Preparing Squirrel Sauerkraut Casserole.” However his appeal to a higher court paid off and he scampered away on a technicality -the skateboard had not been properly identified.
Where is Nutkin today? It is believed that the rodent is still at large in the county, taunting us, assuming some new identity. He now ranks among the most notorious rodents in Schuylkill County history. Look around. He could next to you at this very moment.

Hold on to your..... acorns.

the bonsai tree and city parking lots

Autumn is a beautiful time of the year to wander about the city and get familiar with the local trees. I have walked up and down Yuengling Park and round and round Baber Cemetery but my favorite tree is the bonsai in the 800 block of Mahantongo Street.

Bonsai, by the way, is the art of aesthetic miniaturization of trees. The cultivator must then shape the tree as it grows. It is a painstaking labor of love. I have watched this Mahantongo Street tree grow from a small seedling into a magnificent specimen over the years. The technique the owner uses is what is referred to as Ishizuke, which means that the roots of the tree are growing in the cracks and holes of the cement basement entry-way. No container is necessary. Take a look at the photographs and you will see. Some see a gigantic weed, but I see bonsai.

I wanted to know more about this tree and I was told to call City Hall. I was not sure what department would help me. Someone said call the Shade Department. I asked for the Shade Department but all I got was a phoned message telling me that I need to fill out an application and get approval before hanging any Venetian blinds in any part of my house. I called the switchboard and the operator and was told that I needed the Shade Tree Department, not the Shade Department.

After a few more phone calls I connected with the Shade Tree Department but unfortunately the bonsai tree on Mahantongo Street was not listed in its inventory of trees and I could get no further information.

I tried to contact the cultivator at his residence which houses the bonsai, but no one was home. Looking in the window I was amazed at the minimalism I found within the walls. The owner of the home not only practiced the art of bonsai but also decorated the home in a form of Feng Shui – the emptiness before me evoked feelings of peace and harmony. Less is better. To an untrained eye, one would say I was looking at an abandoned house. But I recognized the spareness before my eyes as aesthetic genius. Less is better. That goes for chocolate chip cookies as well as home design.

While standing in front of the building, a passerby told me that what I was admiring was neither bonsai nor feng shui, but only what is referred to in the city as a “pre-parking lot." That is, a building that will eventually become a nice macadam parking lot someday. She told me that “just as caterpillars become butterflies, and tadpoles become frogs, historic buildings become parking lots – it is part of the plan of nature.” I drove around and studied every parking lot and was amazed to discover that every single one of them had been a building at one time. This process of metamorphosis takes many years and sometimes even decades, but eventually the building sheds its skin of bricks and wood and its inner parking lot is unleashed.

A quick walk back up Mahantongo Street led me to spectacular vertical parking lot of St. John the Baptist Church. It is directly south across the street from Yuengling Park. It appears that the lot is being extended up Sharp Mountain; perhaps within my lifetime it will reach the Cressona border. Maybe a ski-lift will be installed to take the parishioners from the top of the lot to the Church and back again.

Someone told me that the city has an ordinance that parking lots should be landscaped and trees planted around. I assume that ordinance was passed to appease the tree-huggers that still remain in the City. Luckily the ordinance does not cover the expansion of current parking lots. The new section of the vertical parking lot is an asphalt masterpiece and any trees would impair its spectacular view of the top of Sharp Mountain.

If you ever stop and admire the asphalt vertical wonder and you still want to see a tree, then skip Yuengling Park and take a walk down the north side of Mahantongo Street and sit with me under the bonsai tree that grows up from the concrete.