Be there when Pop Pop helps his father unpack his old WWII Pilots trunk. See Pop Pop turn his bike into an F4U Corsair fighter plane. Ride with the old boy through Horseshoe Curve along the old Pennsylvania Railroad. Have soup on the curve. OOOOPPPs!!!! Climb a log cabin roof to see as far as Pennsylvania. Oh what a great show.
Will these memories ever stop!!! I sure hope not say’ old Pop Pop. In this episode Pop Pop remembers some of his first jobs. Be there when a greaser truck driver explains the true meaning of love. Look out for that open body soda delivery truck coming at you fast. Dance a bit with the Dutch girl in Mrs Gallaghers 7th Grade. Wilson rescue saves a baby.
Pop Pop in this one takes you on yet another audio tour of the early fifties. In this show a personal guided tour of PS 14 in Elizabeth, NJ can be yours for the asking. Beware of KIng Kong and the Elmora Avenue Maniac. The moral of this tale is to always watch where you’re going when you’re riding your bike on a sidewalk full of old people. Oh, and hears another moral don’t take bags of garbage from strangers.
Here you go. Pop Pop out did himself this time. Life in the early 50’s awaits you with this episode. Help his poor mom drag him back into Kindergarten on his first day of school. Meet cartoon star Flip the Frog. Gather around that 13 inch black and white TV in the living room. Radiation shield optional. Thrill to the amazing Adventures of Superman. return to those thrilling days of yesteryear….Pop Pop Rides Again!!!!
My brother Ed brought over some old family photos he found in a crawl space. He picked out a few of the ones he liked and let me have the rest. I had a ball going through them. I think the first one on the top of the pile was my favorite. It was a picture of the house we lived in on Cherry Street in Iselin, NJ. We lived there in the early 50’s.
I’ve been playing records at The Chatterbox this afternoon. It’s always fun to do a bit of people watching. It’s kind of my hobby. About midway through my show this young mom walks by the front of my booth with her little boy. He couldn’t have been any more than sixteen months old. He wasn’t any higher than two feet from top to bottom. He had his hand in her hand and was doing his best to walk by her side. As all moms do, she bent slightly over in his direction and walked with half steps as he made pretty long strides for a kid his age. I made sure my microphone was off and hollered something encouraging to the little guys mom. I must have said something like, “It’ll only be a few more weeks and he’ll be on his own Mom.” She agreed.
Stand back Santa, let me through!!!!! I’ve been waiting about seven years for this Christmas and, this year it’s gonna happen. Let me explain. About seven years ago I interviewed some conservationists on a show I did. To show their gratitude, they gave me a pine tree seedling. The little guy was only about nine inches high. Heck, it wasn’t much more than a twig. I planted it at our old house on the horse farm right near the corner of our bungalow and spread all kinds of horse manure around it. When it was dry outside, I was sure to give it a drink from the garden hose. I kept the weeds off it and, even got a rotten dose of poison ivy for my effort. Heck, I loved that little green guy.
Some of you may know how I’ve been facing a clear and ever present nightly danger each evening on my nightly trip to the bathroom in the dark. In the past, the trip was a kind of death march and certain to end badly. I can’t count the times I’ve stepped on a stack of 45 rpm records and slipped to my bony knees. Oh the awful night I stubbed my toe on a cassette player and banged my head into the wall. Paramedics and mountain rescue teams almost had to be called when I inadvertently just nicked the bottom edge of a giant pile of LP’s and caused this vinylanche that pinned me against the wall gasping for air. They had to use Millie the Hound and her super nose to find me under the pile so they could send in oxygen. In short, the studio, which is also where I sleep, has been a bit overrun with records and equipment and, it was getting dangerous In fact, the other night I could hear rumblings under my room in the earth below. That was pressure on the continental plates coming from the massive weight of my record collection causing a reverse in New Jerseys continental drift. Something had to be done before all of New Jersey washed into the sea. Yesterday I had to take decisive action.