John Delach

Mary Ann recently bought a birthday card for a dear friend that raised this conundrum: “Suppose the Hokey Pokey is really what it’s all about?”

A Pint of Guinness

Our family gathered for Tom Brennan’s funeral on Tuesday morning, June 20^th. Tom was my son’s father-in-law.

The service was held in the St. Augustine Cathedral in Bridgeport before a packed house; a measure of the man’s life and his popularity in Fairfield, CT.

My reflections on Tom, his family and friends will come later. Today, I want to share an unexpected serendipitous moment that followed the service. Tom’s family invited the attendees to a reception at the Gaelic-American Society Hall in Fairfield following the service. Commonly called, “The Irish Club,” their choice of beverages includes Guinness on tap.

I smiled as I saw the Guinness tap. “My, my, I said to myself, it’s been a long time since my last glass of stout.”

How long? Not since March 5, 2020, the last time Mike Scott and I made our way to Foley’s for lunch. Back then, we only consumed Guinness there because it was always fresh. Shaun Clancy, Foley’s saloon keeper, couldn’t survive the COVID-19 pandemic quarantine and so it goes.

“A pint of Guinness, please.”

“Glady,” the bartender replied, and I looked on in amazement as she reached for a glass that was about ¾ full and proceeded to put a fresh head on it.

I knew at a glance that this long-delayed glass of stout was going to be a treat and that it was.

I sat alone, hoisted one for Tom, texted Shaun and Scott and celebrated life.

On December 23, 2021, Ruby, the Connecticut Delach’s senior family dog experienced noticeable distress. Michael and Drew took her to the emergency veterinarian who determined Ruby had massive tumors blocking her digestive tract. Father and son, both brave souls, did right by their very best friend by deciding that Ruby needed to be put to sleep to end her suffering.

One and a half years later her brother, Max, suffered the same fate. We were in New Hampshire on Sunday morning, May 28, 2023 when he began to experience similar distress. This was Max’s second episode in two weeks and this time it was worse and included bloody throw-up, a bad sign that cancer was present. We had no choice but to return home on Memorial Day so we could take Max to his vet on Tuesday. We did and when Dr. E. confirmed cancer, we faced the grim decision to let him go so he could join his sister in that place where the spirits of all good dogs go.

All of our grandchildren had grown up with Max and loved him. Ruby had been the sensible dog; Max was the clown. Mary Ann decided to cushion his loss by telling them that Max had reunited with Ruby in that good place by telling them: “Ruby and Max are together again. But she had to explain to her brother, ‘I’ve met a great group of friends here. I’ll introduce you to them, but don’t do something stupid to ruin it.”        

In honor of Ruby, Max and all our very best friends, I have included the piece I wrote about the day we met the two of them for the first time.

Max and Ruby’s’ Arrival

Max and Ruby were eight weeks old when they arrived by truck from Missouri on Thursday, November 11, 2010. Their litter was born on September 9, and they were transported to Long Island by a dog trucking company called Pet Ex Express.

 We had lost Maggie that summer and decided that we had one last Golden in us, but we would wait until November to welcome our new addition. In the interim Mary Ann decided to buy a second pup for our daughter-in-law, Jodie, as a birthday gift.

Jodie wanted a female, and we wanted a male. We picked the name Max and Jodie picked Ruby after the other principal characters in the comic / cartoon show: Max and Ruby.

Coming by truck produced its own complications. Steve, the driver, a good fellow who gave me his cell number, was clueless when it came to delivering in the New York Metropolitan area.

He expected to arrive on November 10 and Jodie drove down with our three grandchildren, Drew (11), Matt (8) and Samantha (4). The idea was for them to be with us that evening when the dogs arrived so they could meet and greet their Ruby. By eight o’clock that night, the kids had had it and poor Steve was lost in Manhattan. Mary Ann took charge, called him and told him, “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

He told her they had a stop at a local Port Washington pet store called Barkingham Palace and would deliver our puppies after that stop. “We’ll sleep in their parking lot.”

Knowing that my oldest grandson, Drew, was an early riser, I found him in the kitchen watching TV when I slipped out of bed the following morning. “Hey, Drew, let’s take a ride to find the truck. Don’t bother to change, just throw something on to keep warm”

Drew’s eyes lit up. He threw on slippers and a coat and off we went only to find an empty parking lot.

 Right, I called Steve on my cell phone: “Where are you?”

“We’re at Burger King having breakfast.”

“Don’t go back to the pet store. My house is between Burger King and that store. Use your GPS.”

I gave Drew my phone so he could call home to tell his mom and Mary Ann what was up while I headed for Burger King. “Grandpa, how will we know what truck to look for?”

“Simple, Drew, look for a truck with Missouri plates.”

We arrived to see a panel truck with “Show Me” state plates pull out of the lot. “See those plates, Drew, that’s our truck. Let’s follow it. Call home, tell them we’re on our way.”

Drew and I reached the driveway at the same time as the PetEx truck. Everybody poured out onto Roger Drive in eager anticipation. Steve’s helper emerged from the truck and presented these two beautiful babies into the loving hands of their new families.

Mary Ann and Jodie each hoisted one into the air to confirm who was Max and who was Ruby.

With shouts of joy, squeals of delight and vocal pandemonium, we welcomed two very confused puppies who soon would come to realize, they were home. Once again, we had two big orange dogs in our lives.

 Both Ruby and Max were cremated and we plan to inter their remains in the field that surrounds our house in New Hampshire. On one side, stands a steel pole filled with concrete that once supported our big dish. Red, with rust, we christened it, the Baton Rouge and we made it the marker for the remains of our deceased best friends. We plan to inter these two very best friends during the Fourth of July weekend so they can join all the others who came before them.

On the Outside Looking” will not publish again until July 12, 2023.

Weekday mornings in the late 1940s: We lived on the second-floor of a two story railroad flat at 1821 Himrod St. in Ridgewood, Queens. Back then, my mother didn’t work and I hadn’t started kindergarten so  mornings were mostly leisurely. We survived on the $75-dollar monthly alimony / child care checks she  received from my father until Mom could no longer stretch that miserly sum of money as far as she needed.

Mom then found a job at Equitable Life Insurance on Thirty-Second Street opposite the Pennsylvania Station. By then I was also attending grammar school at St. Aloysius, our local parish school, where the good Dominican nuns, especially those who took men’s names happily beat the crap out of “so called” trouble makers. Sister Raymond James was the best at her trade. She flew with her wing nun, Sister Agnes Miriam. They didn’t take prisoners.

We didn’t acquire our first TV until 1951 or 1952. Until then, AM Radio was our outlet to the world and our radio was set to WNEW. I stopped listening when that 12-inch RCA arrived, but Mom loved her radio especially Martin Block’s: Make Believe Ballroom.

Block’s Ballroom had a theme song:

It’s make believe

ballroom time.

Put all your cares away.

All the bands are here

 to bring good cheer

your way.

It’s make believe

ballroom time.

The hour of sweet romance.

Here’s your make

believe ballroom,

Come on children,

Let’s dance,

Let’s dance,

Let’s dance.

That’s my only remembrance of WNEW from those days. Martin Block’s show originated in 1936 as a fifteen-minute affair, three days a week for which Block was paid $25. It quickly expanded to 90 minutes, five days a week with multiple specials on weekends.

One anecdote that demonstrates his popularity and influence involves Fanny Rose Shore, a newbie singer who made it to New York where she landed a non-paying job at WNEW. An audition was arranged for Block. Shore chose the song, Dinah, When Block introduced her on the air later that morning, he forgot her name. Without missing a beat, he said, “Ladies and gentlemen, Miss Dinah Shore.”

Miss Shore later revealed, “I was so grateful that I never corrected him.”

Dinah Shore performed on several sustaining programs on WNEW, and sang duets with another young singer- Frank Sinatra.

Martin Block left WNEW in 1954 for ABC. He passed in 1967.

As I grew, developed and came of age, my musical tastes took me far a field from WNEW’s broadcasts. It was only a broadcasting coincidence that allowed me to re-discover this gem. In 1961, I discovered the New York Football Giants. I watched a late-night exhibition game on WCBS TV between the Giants and the San Francisco 49ers. By the end of that contest, I was hooked. That was the beginning of my life-long fan relationship with the team.

Following my new heroes that first year wasn’t easy. Back then, every team’s regular home games were blacked out, even if those games were sold out. My only access to home games was to tune into the Giants radio broadcasts. The team’s flagship outlet was WNEW and the play-by-play announcer was Marty Glickman, a well-known New York radio personality and former Olympian. Al Derogartes, a former Giants lineman whose day job was as an executive at Prudential Life Insurance Company, provided the color commentary. Dero’s analysis was brilliant.

But Marty was a “homer” in every sense of that term who actually got in the way of his own broadcast. He frustrated me so much during that 1961 season that I decided to buy a season ticket for 1962, a ticket I still retain, 65 years later.

However, listening to these games meant that most of the radios in our house ended up set to 1130 and I began to wake up to (Gene) Klaven and (Dee) Finch. This funny duo had first come together in 1952. I didn’t recall Klaven when I first began listening to them in 1961. I soon learned the reason. Back when I listened to WNEW with my mom, the duo was Gene Raymond and Finch. Curiously, when Rayburn left for a bright career in TV, his replacement’s name fit like a part of a puzzle.

Klaven was a natural born funny man, who used dozens of voices and characters. Think of an early Robin Williams. Finch played the perfect straight man. The two of them were really funny and could easily compete with the great Bob and Ray.

In Part Four we will dwell on the long life and the death of WNEW.