Shout Out

...Don't sit there broken hearted (sit there broken hearted)/Call all your friends in the neighborhood/And get the party started....


Ah, the wonder of the Internet. Because of this marvelous invention, someone, through me, reconnected with ace chiropractor Lisa Dabbs. Because of blogging, and Tom Tomorrow's blog having been used as an example, it occurred to me to search childhood palTim Kreider and- booyah!- find him.

Hello, Tim, in case you're reading, here's our favorite sing-along. My towel's gotten a bit soggy sopping up after it rains, but when it's sunny, baby, that ragtop doesn't leak AT ALL.

Tim and Tom are both political cartoonists, and I wonder what they think of the cartoon controversy

In case you haven't seen them, here's an article that includes the drawings in question.

Check out Mike's take on the whole matter, which about wraps it for me.

To return to the matter at hand, I 'shout out' to people I am distressed to have lost track of, if you will pardon the grammar. You will know you, because I'll mention you by name, which regular readers know that I usually don't. In case you'’re Googling yourself, and really, who doesn't?

So, from the Commuter Lounge at Loyola: Jeffrey, Jeff Farrell, the Jeffster, my favorite Philosopher Doll, who did exactly one murder mystery with the company I worked for before dropping off my radar. Although possibly Noel could give me your address, come to think of it. I'm on her Xmas card list, you know, and if I am, I bet you are, too.

From Atlanta, Georgia, Mike Durbin, or possibly Durban? Mike Durban? I've been so sure it was an 'i' that I never thought to look for Mike Durban, and I've looked, more than once. Mike, come find me if you can. It's been more than ten years. I still miss you most of all, my Scarecrow. If I could find the Carter family...which maybe I can, because though my last e-mail to them bounced, I think I got, oh, yeah, an Xmas card. From like, Hawaii.

Other buddies whom I have not seen since big hair was big: Jerry Rubin and Johnny Alstrohm, where are you, you crazy guys? And what has become of Mimi/Margaret Teahan and her brother Mark? I see by the Baltimore Playwrights Festival archives that both of you represented, but have since not been in the public eye. Mimi, you were one of the most gifted actresses I'd ever met who had never seen a Marx Brothers movie. And yet you did Margaret Dumont beautifully. Where are you now? And Keebler? the Keebster? who actually was named Keebler, I think, Mike Keebler, last time I saw you, you were selling software.

Holly Johnson, from Indiana, where I spent an annoying decade in which every friend I made moved away...and then my family moved away, too. Jasonville, Indiana: the place people love to leave. I am not even saying how long ago.

Paul Belliveau, who I could find maybe if our mutual magical pal would remember to give me your e-dress. Are you still bouncing on trampolines and encouraging kiddies to tumble? You had the best biceps, bar none, and I know several drummers, so that's saying something. I remember your Chinese name, Baybau, and that you're either too smart to be so pretty, or the reverse. Whatever became of you and your self-produced solo music? I have since written lyrics for a musical that hit the boards, and I think in part I have you to thank. So, thanks, Paulie! Why haven't I seen you in twelve years? And are you still in contact with Erica?, whom I see some years at Festival, but never you. Never you.

Although, if any of you I'm seeking find this and don't feel like sending me a gMail, that's completely understandable.

Well, no, I don't understand it at all, but I'll pretend to because that's the grownup thing to do.

Not that being a grownup is one of my strong points.

(Shout It Out Loud; Kiss)