I have been missing in non-action for a month now. I've just kind of lost motivation, at least for now, to keep the blog going using the pace and rubric I've been mostly following for close to a year: summarizing articles from the IGY Bulletin, one by one. And I've just been languishing a bit in general. So I hope to regain forward momentum soon, perhaps using a different rubric.
I also decided to break my NY Times crossword solving streak at 800+. I realized that although I usually enjoyed doing them and the blog, those activities were sometimes controlling me rather than the other way around. Staring at my computer screen was also starting to make my brain feel congested. Plus, I will need some time in the near future to attend to some other issues, like cleaning out my office at the College, which I am finally vacating this summer. So overall I am trying to change the balance of my activities for now, you might say.
Well, music is a good pick-me-up. The song containing the lyric in this post's title is Mrs. Robinson, by Simon and Garfunkel. You remember ... it goes something like this:
It is from the album Bookends, which was one of my favorites as an undergraduate. It is a concept album about life's journey. I'd best listen to it again, since my location on that route has progressed considerably. I owned the LP for many years, but now I own the CD. For me, the best song on the album was A Hazy Shade of Winter: "Hang on to your hopes my friend. that's an easy thing to say, but if your hopes should pass away simply pretend that you can build them again."
The song was also part of the soundtrack of one of my favorite movies, The Graduate, including the breakout role for Dustin Hoffman. Am I remembering correctly that I saw this in the movie theater with my high school friend Carol? (I guess you wouldn't know.) She was a good person, I wonder what happened to her.
Joe Dimaggio, one of the greatest Yankees and baseball players of all time, finds his way into the title of this post. The years of the IGY, 1957-58, were when I first became aware of professional sports. My family was not into sports, and I gravitated towards the best teams of that era -- the New York Yankees (baseball), Boston Celtics (basketball), and the Baltimore Colts (football) -- rather than the local teams, which weren't very good -- the Washington Senators (baseball) and the Washington football team (there was no regional NBA team). Baseball has always been my favorite sport; I still like the Yankees (and now the Phillies), and am enjoying their amazing run so far this year. I still very casually root for the Celtics, so it is nice to see them in the NBA finals. I'm not even sure where the Colts play any more.
My favorite players from those teams, all hall-of famers, were Johnny Unitas of the Colts, Bob Cousy and Bill Russell (Celtics), and my favorite athletic "hero" ever, Mickey Mantle of the Yankees.
(I recently read Amy Bloom's In Love, a moving account of her husband's assisted suicide. It took me a while to realize that her husband, Brian Ameche, was the son of another Colts star, running back Alan Ameche, who scored the winning touchdown in sudden death overtime in the 1958 NFL championship game against the NY Giants, sometimes called "the greatest game ever played.")
Mickey Mantle, who replaced Joe Dimaggio as the Yankees' center fielder, was no saint (and why should a ballplayer be one), but he was one of the greatest baseball players ever. As a kid and a fan, I used to argue that he was the best of the New York center fielders of the IGY years, but now I would have to concede that Willie Mays of the NY Giants had a better career overall. Sorry, Duke Snider of the Brooklyn Dodgers still comes in third. Mantle was the American League triple crown winner in 1956, the AL most valuable player in 1956 and 1957, an all-star in 1956-1958, World Series champion in 1956 and 1958, and AL champion in 1957. Quite a good run in those IGY years! I started reading Jane Leavy's acclaimed biography of The Mick a couple of years ago. I think I'll go back and finish it!
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| My figurine of The Mick, with me since 1962 or so |