The Birds Is Coming

Alfred Hitchcock:, 1960: The Birds is coming!
John Emswiler, 1981: The 340 Club II is coming!

Outpost of Humanity: 1980

Life in the ghetto remained interesting to say the least, a little more peaceful since my roommate was no longer the neighborhood supplier, and Randy & I enjoyed a non-stop party for the duration of our tenure as roommates. Randy turned out to be quite the guy. I like to think I was as good and loyal a roomie to him as he was to me. However, I know that was not the case.

I only remember two times when we had a clash. Both were about a very serious subject: rock ‘n roll. A sane person would say both were my fault; however I still blame Randy for one of them. You be the judge. In the small house we had a new stereo in the living room. It was an upgrade from the one I moved in with due to a suspicious burglary that occurred during the tenure of my previous roomie and a generous insurance payout.

1) We were drinking and playing music one night and Randy asked if he could have the “Be Sharp” button that promoted the new Joe Jackson album of the same name. I said no. We continued; later I picked up the Joe Jackson album and found the button missing and berated him … and continued to do so to the point where he left for the night perhaps never to return. Clearly, my fault.
2) The next time it once again involved the stereo. After an evening of loud music and drinking in which we exchanged “turns” for picking the musical selections. It was time for the last “turn” and it was my pick. Randy went off to bed. I placed Lou Reed’s “Metal Machine Music” on the turntable, volume up, and I went to bed. Well, MMM is a different sort of record. First the there is only one track and it is nothing but a series of, as the title implies, metal machine music. Musical? Perhaps; although I would agree with Randy (or any rational critic) it was difficult to listen to. The climax of the record though came at the end. Most records after the last track take the needle to center where if the automatic arm will come get it and automatically turn the stereo off. Good night. Well, MMM is true to the previous 26 minutes of noise. It has built in scratch that causes a skip and a replaying of the final sounds over and over again. In fact on the album sleeve it where the time of most songs is listed as 3:52 or 2:45. It clearly is marked with the symbol for infinity. Anyway, after an hour or so of the clanging MMM, Randy comes out of his room and goes downstairs to turn off the record player. NOOOOOO I scream coming out of my room. I’m listening to that song. Well, you get the picture. Now, whose fault was that second one? Certainly not mine I am a Lou Reed fan. Sorry Randy.

Another event that last year was the Tommy Hearns-Pipino Cuevas fight on August 2, 1980. I believe Cuevas was Mexican but that didn’t keep me from being the only Hearne fan in a group of Puerto Rican youth that I was partying with the night of the fight. Interesting night and I was a Hearns fan forever after that.

Once I made up my mind to depart the Outpost; I did not tarry. I hired an agent – a friend, Brad Haber – to manage the place and he fairly quickly obtained a tenant who agreed to pay a handsome price in monthly rent. One Friday he stopped by to pay the security deposit in cash. Later that night I saw him at the Village. Not another week went by before I saw his name in the paper … Gary Faison busted for heroin sales. Needless to say he never came by for his deposit. We found another tenant and I was a landlord for just over a year before selling the house. All in all it was quite the education living at the Outpost and I made a buck or two for the experience.

Now, if Phil thought living at Manor House was Manor House; I was about to find out what Manor House was really like – alas, I was moving back to my parents house.

1979

340 Club was dark; but a couple of things happened elsewhere in the world
JAN Steel Curtain
FEB Ayatollah Khomeini now in charge in Iran; 340 Club needed now more than ever
MAR TMI
MAY Maggie Thatcher elected in Great Britain … change is a comin’
JUL Sandinistas take over Nicaragua
OCT Beat ‘em Bucs!
NOV Iranian militants take over US embassy

1979 in the Book
President Jimmy Carter
Governor Dick Thornburgh
Mayor Allie Wohlsen appointed after Dick Scott joins Thornburgh cabinet
CPI – 72.6
U.R. – 5.8%
Life exp – 73.9
Violent crime – 55.7
World Population – 4.4B
U.S. Population – 225.1M
Ted’s # - discussed elsewhere, perhaps ad nauseum, no longer on the annual write up
Best Picture Oscar – The Deer Hunter

NCAA BK – Michigan State (Magic) 75-64 over Indiana State (Bird)
Indy 500 – Rick Mears
NBA – Seattle Supersonics 4-1 over Washington Bullets
NHL – Montreal Canadiens, 4-1 over Rangers, 4th title in a row
MLB – Pittsburgh Pirates triumph over Baltimore Orioles; Stan Wilk & I attended G3, 4 and, after celebrating too much, I was found by Fred Smedley (thank you Fred) lying in a gutter next the Royal House in downtown Lancaster.
Horse of Year – Affirmed
Hvwt Champ – Muhammad Ali recaptured his title from Spinks and retired; Larry Holmes, WBC; John Tate, WBA
NCAA F – Alabama 12-0
NFL (1/80) Pittsburgh Steelers over Los Angeles Rams, 31-19 and I successfully avoided any gutters

Will intelligent life ever be restored on West King Street?

No Redcoats Allowed

Paul Revere, 1776: The British are coming! The British are coming!

Phil Zangari, 1981: and so is the 340 Club II!

From the Mighty 340 Club Juke Box

and, in honor of a double shot, why not play two -

Manor House

Tee described his post-340 move to Howard Avenue or the "Outpost of Humanity" as fairly full of action, not necessarily the kind of action we were accustomed to at the Club but at least not boring.
I moved from Millersville to my next abode,Manor House Apartments in June of 1979. It was on the second floor with sliding doors that opened to a back porch,three bedrooms and one bath. City L and his dog Scarlett from the 340, Vicki Charles and myself were the tenants. It was a reverse of the old TV show,Three's Company without the sexual tensions that beleaguered John Ritter's character,Jack,now portrayed by Vicki as the sole female of the house not counting Scarlett.
Absolutely nothing ever happened there. There never was a party as far as I remember. We all just usually stayed in our own rooms,although City and I were visited,unknown to each other at the time,by our other roomie occasionally to help "re-arrange some furniture".
When Tee called and asked "what was going on there", I always replied,"nothing". In fact to this day when things are unusally boring, "Manor House" is still our vernacular term to describe a place devoid of action..
My only two noteworthy recollections of my stay there was my 30th birthday and near the end of my residency at Manor House, The Bat Incident. I turned 30 on July 7th,1980, R.E.Lichty who also celebrated his birth that day but was born a year later had reserved several rooms at the Hotel Brunswick in downtown Lancaster for us and all who was left after we partied all night.
I started at the Harmony Inn, an attractive waitress named Cindy,caught my eye. I lamented the fact that I was turning 30 and mentioned how my life was over. I didn't believe it for a minute but I thought I try the sympathy "line". Well apparently it worked because she kept telling me how 30 wasn't really that old. I told her about the rooms we had at the Brunswick and she said she had to work till 2 but maybe she could make it. The night became a blur, all I remember is being at the Broad Axe and being given what I thought were shots of "kamikaze's" although in reality it was just water, I couldn't tell the difference.
We all ended up at the Brunswick and sure enough the waitress from the Harmony was there along with a bunch of other partyers. I have tried to reconstruct the events of that night many times but to no avail. When I awoke the next morning, I was on one bed, Cindy on the other and R.E. on the floor. I think I left with the two of them still sleeping and headed home.
That night I returned to the Harmony and Cindy came over and asked if "I remembered last night". Sheepishly I said,"No",expecting her to fill me in on the details. Apparently that was not the answer she wanted to hear because she never spoke to me again. I did have a sort of a post-depression period after turning 30. I came right home after work every night and played solo-APBA not desiring to return to the social pattern I was accustomed to. This went on for about two months until I came out of it.
My other favorite incident came when 328-er Dan Joyce had moved into Manor House after Vicki left. He was employed on friday nights at Zangari's South as a bartender. City,Scarlett the puppy, and myself were in the living room with the sliding doors apparently not fully closed. I noticed that Scarlett started leaping up in the air which I thought was strange until I saw what the problem was. A bat had entered the apartment. After flying around it ended up in Dan's bedroom where a quick thinking City L,slammed the door shut. I called the "South" to inquire of Dan how business was. He said everything was going well and then I added an oh-by-the-way,"when you get home tonight there is a bat in your bedroom."
Well Dan flipped out and demanded City and me get rid of the critter. Being a street hockey player I figured out a stick would be our best weapon to implement. I retrieved one from my bedroom and handed it to City and said "Here". Thinking discretion to be the better part of valor,I told City that bats carry "rabies" and Scarlett needed to be protected so I took the puppy into my bedroom and shut the door leaving City with the task at hand. I remember peeking out and saw that the bat was on Dan's window drapes. City "whacked" it with the hockey stick,stunning it, then skillfully used the stick to pick it up using the flat part of the blade and carry it out throught the sliding doors and depositing it over the balcony.
Manor House,indeed, I was getting tired of it. Where would my next home be ?

Outpost of Humanity: 1979

Jimmy Shay & Vicki moved on and I needed a roomie. It just so happened that there was this guy who was a fixture at Zangari South: friendly, drunk, older, handy. I hadn’t known him long or well; nevertheless I asked Ron Botzum if he needed a room anyway. He turned out, despite his carpenter skills, to be more trouble than he was worth. Now, suddenly I no longer lived between the corner bar without the license and the drug store without prescription drugs but I lived with bar’s best customer and, somehow, one of the pharmacy’s suppliers. Ron, while not a real drug pusher, turned out be a con artist, a small time dealer, and the self described master of the “hookup.” Living with Ron meant always having a beer in front of you, nightly nonsensical discussions about who knows what (“what can you do without no buffalo sex”), infrequent rent payments but plenty of shoddy carpentry in lieu of payment, illogical rumourmongering about the youth of the neighborhood, and even break-ins that appeared to break-outs from within which lead to an insurance payment in excess of the value of my stolen worthless stereo.

Life at the Outpost continued to be exciting if nothing else. Given that I worked at City Hall I had ample opportunity to receive feedback from the police. From time to time I would get word about my drunken roomie, rumors of drug deals and warnings to keep my nose clean. Lest I paint a less than ideal picture it was an interesting, educational times, with a party only a few feet away at all hours of the night.

Near the end of the year there were several noteworthy events. One day I came home to see writing scratched into the wood of my front door. It simply said “Randy Brown 555 1212”. You will recall Randy had debuted at the 340 Club in March 1978 by getting unceremoniously tossed from the famed 340 porch to a convenient nearby snow pile not once but twice. At this point in my life, in ’79, Randy was an acquaintance not a close friend. Further he had disappeared into Keroauc’s America hitchhiking to the left coast and his scratching on my door provided the first evidence of his return. From the moment I called his number, however, unto this day I number Randy among my best friends.

Late in ’79 Randy began hanging at the Outpost and he & Ron, despite Randy’s efforts at friendship, began to clash. Eventually, as Ron’s behavior deteriorated; Randy looked more appealing as a roomie. Ron sensed that and began to act out. One night, a particularly drunk Ron began to threaten Randy and eventually took a baseball bat and chased Randy into the street. When Ron tired sufficiently I was able to approach him and disarm him. This served to level the playing field and, while fisticuffs never ensued, Randy & Ron came to terms with each other that night and Ron was gone not too long after that. As I write this I am reminded that perhaps the final straw came when Ron went to the County Prison; perhaps that was when Randy moved in. Ron was a good guy just a drunk. I visited him in prison. I have received rambling phone calls from Ron – from eorgia I believe – on a couple of occasions in the past decade.

Once Randy moved in the drinking became less serve but the parties and the chicks more prevalent. Three events that capped the year were the Pirates capturing the World Series and Fred Smedley finding me after too much celebration in the gutter next to the Royal Hose (he got me home safely), my car having sugar put in the gas tank at Halloween (a prank or retribution for making the candy man leave the Outpost) and getting into a fight at a speakeasy from which Randy saved me by pulling my opponent off me but not until after I had shit my pants. I guess we were even; I having taken a baseball bat off his attacker and he having separated me from a young lad more willing to do me harm than I was to do him. Life in the Bloody Seventh. It certainly was different from how Phil was living at “Manor House.” Needless to say; both Phil & I were longing for the good old days on West King Street.

There is a phone ringing on West King Street

Hillary Rodham Clinton: It is 3 a.m. and your children are safe and asleep; but there is a phone at 340 West King Street and its ringing … who do you want answering that phone?

Barack Hussein O’Bama: Keep your shirt on Hil; its not that kind of 2nd coming. The 340 Club II is Coming!

Tee Knorr: Someone answer that freakin' phone!

From the Poet Laureate

As a tribute to Kenny Giltner, the only departed resident/member of the 340 Club, this week in the Poet Laureate’s corner we feature some of Kenny’s writings. If I was a shrink perhaps I could analyze them for a deeper meaning. Alas, they must speak for themselves. Here they are (three last week; three last week) –

4) Super Jock

Threw a game, shooting a referee, graduating with a Doctors degree as a running back, talk about your record ... well you make me sick to my guts hit the

5) Edgar Black Head - Super Brain

Charge: Refusing to leave the library, charged with tresspassing for refusing to leave the public library for 3 consecutive days

6) untitled

Paul decided to end his education a little earlier than the others in his class, being more intelligent & up to date with current events. Paul received his final diploma in 8th grade.

Some people believe Paul had made a good decision, and is leading a sucessful and supposedly fulfilling life in his $100,000 home, not to mention te two Corvettes he has and the airplane he uses to make his daily flights to Jamaica, Mexico and Columbia.

Paul's credentials include: 2 counts of marijuana + 1 count of amphetimine with intent to sell. He will be going to prison in a few month's but he says he don't care, I got the dough!

Also it is important to note that Paul's community activities are:

(1) President of the United "Party" Club
(2) Active participant of the Moose Club.

Paul is cool, and very wealthy, he lives for the dollar, however PAUL POTHEAD is very, very unhappy > WHY?

1978

1978
JAN Dave Petkosh leaves
MAR Girl gets hit in head by beer mug
MAR Mitch arrives
MAY Sil – a fixture – leaves
MAY Kenny arrives
JUL Kenny departs
SEP Tee – a stalwart – leaves
SEP “Framework for Peace” signed by Sadat, Begin, Carter
SEP Mitch leaves
OCT Dean comes and goes
OCT Pope John Paul II elected
NOV Tim aka City L aka Slick – with roots in the 328 – leaves
NOV Philip – last man standing – leaves 340 Club to the cockroaches
DEC 340 Club dark … is there no joy in Mudville?

1978 in the Book
President Jimmy Carter
Governor Dick Thornburg elected
Mayor Dick Scott
Pope Paul VI dies, John Paul I dies, John Paul II
CPI – 65.2
U.R. – 6.1%
Life exp – 73.5
Violent crime – 51.4
World Population – 4.3B
U.S. Population – 222.6M
Ted’s # - discussed elsewhere, perhaps ad nauseum, no longer on the annual write up
Best Picture Oscar – Annie Hall

NCAA BK – Kentucky 94-88 over Duke
Indy 500 – Al Unser
NBA – Seattle Supersonics 4-1 over Washington Bullets
NHL - Montreal Canadians 4-2 over Boston Bruins
MLB - NY Yankees 4-2 over LA Dodgers
Horse of Year – Affirmed, Triple Crown winner ridden by young Stevie Cauthen
Hvwt Champ – Leon Spinks beat Muhammad Ali for WBA title; WBC declared Ken Norton champ and he promptly lost to Larry Holmes
NCAA F - Alabama 11-1
NFL (1/79) Pittsburgh Steelers 35-31 over Dallas

Unhappy New Year as, after 1,532 of existence, the 340 Club is dark, kaput, abandoned, shuttered, empty, devoid of life, closed, quiet, dormant, closed, ended,

Millersville 1978-1979

What a change of pace, moving from the bustling lifestyle of the 340 Club with its six bedroom house, a bunch of room-mates and the traffic of a major artery into a mid-sized city to the quaint borough of Millersville. Here I was in a two bedroom residence with one roomie (R.E.Lichty),whenever he was home, with absolutely nothing nearby that I was accustomed to.
Being in my late twenties I was too old for the college scene and I was never a big fan of the Barn Door so into the Red Rose City I travelled for entertainment, although I probably just went to my usual haunts right after work instead of going home first. My memory escapes me on that.
The 340 Club was just a hop,skip and a jump from Cassidy's and a little more complicated drive from Zangari's South but Millersville created a new "monster". Distance.
Driving was never my forte and mixing it with some "spirits" made it worse. The Millersville police also seemed to have a problem. They followed me home several times. I can't recall any events that happened of note during my stay with R.E. He probably hosted a party or two but he had a different group of friends than me so while I probably attended those,I really didn't feel at ease.
There was a break-in/robbery of some sorts where none of my "stuff" was taken only R.E.'s. I remember the police being involved and talking to me. Overall it was a pretty mundane life-style. In early spring,R.E. reconciled with his wife,Lori, and she moved back in. It was getting uncomfortable, I was ready to move again. My old roomie from the 340, City L., kept calling me to move in with him at one of the apartment complexes. I stalled for a while but I knew another re-location was inevitable. The final straw came when the borough's police followed me home yet again and asked for my drivers license, when they saw the address did not match where I lived they said "You have been living in Millersville,long enough, you need to change your residence".
I told them I was moving and they said,"See that you do" or something along those lines. I called City L. and made plans for the next chapter of my life.

The Second Coming ... is coming

Smokey Robinson, 1966: So, fiddley-dee, fiddley-dum; Look out baby, 'cause here I come.

Randy Brown, 1981: The Second Coming is coming

Curator's Corner

This might be tough to read, particulary if you need to turn a desk top on its side. It is an ad from the paper advertising an auction of the 338-340 West King Street structure. The auction was to take place on March 1, 1982. If it happened the minimum price mustn't have been reached cuz we stayed there for another 16 months.

The List: 1978 (2nd half)

A 340 Club member, a young lady, introduced me to #42 who was living at the YWCA. She was a favorite of mine who eventually preferred the company of Phil’s brother Paul. Oh well. I can remember very little of #43 cept she was a white woman, older than I, I think, that I met at Tom Paine’s; I met #44 at the Wonder Bar and, although it was over a case of mistaken identity, she got me in a fight at a speakeasy about a year and a half later … not sure if I was a lover but I definitely was no fighter … I met #45 at the Wonder Bar, eventually lost her to Jesus … #46 was perhaps Randy’s first matchmaking on my behalf; this woman was from Mars, a true Hall of Famer, later a card carrying 340 Club member, may she rest in peace … #47 always wanted more than I could give, nice girl with a young son … God bless her … #47 and/or #48 may have been after I left 340

As of 12/31/77, the list contained 32 women, 23 (72%) were one night stands, 5 (16%) were Black

There were 16 “Rookies” in 1978, 9 (56%) one night stands, 12 (75%) Black

As of 12/31/78, the list contained 48 names, 32 (67%) one night stands, 17 (35%) Black

Interesting to note, of 31 White women, 24 (77%) were one nite stands; while of the 17 Black women, 8 (47%) were one night stands.

In 2008, of those 48 women who had the pleasure of knowing me intimately, there are just three that I have spoken to in the past year and maybe another 5 that I still know. I am as oblivious to the other 40 as I’m sure they are to me.

Trivia: 56-58

There will be some trivia questions posed at the reunion in June. To help you prep for such an event from time to time questions will be posed here in the Blog so you can revive some old memories and rev up your response time. To that end here are a few questions:

THIS WEEK'S QUESTIONS:

56. Which resident had the longest tenure at 340 West King Street?
57. Who was the youngest 340 Club resident? (judged by current age)
58. Who was the oldest 340 Club resident? (judged by current age)?

LAST WEEK”S QUESTIONS/ANSWERS

51.Who once slept on a couch one saturday evening,that was deposited in the front of the 340 Club, appalling passerby's heading to the nearby church on sunday morning? Woody Kleinhaus slept on the couch outside the Club, John Walton's parents walking up the street to attend services at the Church,couldn't believe it.

52 Our neighbors, the DiEugenio's across the street from the Club had five children but only one daughter, what was her name? Lisa

53.What was the nickname of 338 resident Robert Koenig? Biker Bob

54.What was the name of his Rottweiler? "Reefer", apparently it was not a reference to the nickname of the refrigerated trailers hauled by semi's.

55.Born John Edwin Walton, this 340 member was called "Jackie" by his folks,"Good Bud" by Tee and "Mick" by most of his friends but what sobriquet did 328-er R.E.Lichty christen him with? "Hoggy", RE also nicknamed Mick's wife, Beth,"Sugar"