These next few weeks are the best part of summer for me. The days are at their longest and Spring is fading quickly into the warmth of the direct sunlight. Catching these cool nights is a treasure before the hum of air conditioning takes force.
Summer memories for me spring quickly through music. Early in life the music playing on Chicago’s AM stations brings back memories from my childhood. WLS, WCFL and even WGN played songs that I hear today and I think of skinned knees and bike spokes clapping with baseball cards.
There was a park by my house that had shade trees with branches that were easy to climb. One of the kids would often bring a transistor radio. We would climb trees and listen to Elton John, Stevie Wonder, Paul McCartney and Marvin Gaye.
One morning I snuck my dad’s radio to the park. It was very similar to the radio they had on Gilligan’s Island. My dad had it on the shelf by the washer and dryer. He would listen to the news, opera or Dick Buckley while he did his laundry. He always had WGN on in the morning when he was getting ready for work.
I climbed my favorite tree and found the branches that I always perched on. I can still remember the song playing on that traumatic summer day. ”Rock the Boat” by the Hues Corporation was on WLS when the tree limb snapped.
I was getting tired of holding my dads radio so I found a small twig of a branch close to my roost. I stuck the radio handle upon the small branch and enjoyed music hands free ten feet off the ground.
I can vividly picture the shadows along the grass at the moment of impact. It was probably 10:30 or 11:00 in the morning. Close to the time to jump down and walk home for lunch and Bozos Circus.
“Rock the boat, don’t rock the boat baby, rock the boat, don’t tip the boat over….”
SNAP!
…and in slow motion my dad’s transistor radio floated to the ground. It actually fell quickly to the ground, but the fear of how my day was about to end put everything into slow motion.
I think of the scene from “Fast Times” when Spicoli wrecked Charles Jefferson’s car when I realized the trouble I was going to face when my dad got home.
“He’s gonna shit! He’s gonna kill me! First he’s gonna shit and then he’s gonna kill me!”
I jumped out of the tree and gathered the pieces of the broken radio and walked home. My mom was waiting for me at the back door. I’m sure she was thinking to herself, “oh no… your dad is going to shit and then he’s gonna kill John.”
My mom laid a hand towel on the dining room table and placed the shattered radio on top. Sitting there in plain view for my father to notice upon entry to the house.
It was a long afternoon…. Bozo sucked that day. My mom made cut up hotdogs with a plop of ketchup on the side for dipping. To this day I detest ketchup near my hotdogs. I laid around the house waiting for my father to get home.
I tried watching the Cubs game, but that didn’t ease my fears. I read and stacked my comics neatly. I put the encyclopedias back into alphabetical order. I laid in my bed and turned on my transistor radio to calm my nerves.
It didn’t work, but I got a great idea. I’ll take my radio and put it down by the laundry room. It might not be as good, but at least my dad won’t miss George Gershwin or Bix Beiderbecke.
Years later I found out that my mom called my dad at work to give him a heads up. She told him how well the Catholic guilt was working. How we placed the broken radio on the table. Showing that the truth is always faster. I guess she wanted to lighten the blow if my dad came home in a bad mood.
As the day got closer to Don Shepley’s arrival I became more worried. He was running late and finally arrived around six o’clock.
My dad stopped off at Radio Shack and bought an identical radio to the one I broke that morning. He pretended like he didn’t see the mangled wreck on the table and he said, “son, go down to the laundry and get my old radio. I want to give it to you.”
“Dad, I took it to the park and it fell out of my tree and broke.”
He stood up and walked down to the basement quietly and brought up my transistor radio.
“Why was this radio down in the laundry?”
“Well….. umm…. I…. a…. Didn’t want you to miss Wally Phillips in the morning dad.”
My dad knew how horrible I felt all day. He knew I gave my radio up to replace his. He was late after work because he stopped off to buy a new radio, but he also stopped and bought me a peppermint patty. He slipped it out of the pocket on his dress shirt and put it in my right hand.
“Moose….I’m proud of you. You did something stupid and you learned from your mistake. You were ready with the truth and you sacrificed your own radio for me. I guess the Catholic school is teaching you well.”
Learn from your mistakes, the truth is quicker and be selfless.
I never brought a radio to the park again. Later that summer Kevin Albrecht dropped his dad’s radio out of the tree. I put my hand on his shoulder and told him the truth is quicker, good luck and don’t tell your dad I was with him.
Time to make breakfast and watch King Charles in his first Trooping the Colour. My father gave me an appreciation for British Military Bands. The things our father's leave us.... Happy Father's Day Dad!
