Reunion Trilogy Episode Two - It’s Something to Read!

                                    It was a night of…
                      #SpecialMemories

Tell me, WHat do YOU remember about the Town Club Party?

Me?? Well I’ll tell ‘ya...

What I remember the most about that night was when the DJ played, ‘Race With The Wind’, by Milwaukee’s own…The Robbs. It’s a good song, but it brings back painful memories of a certain 1968 St. Monica’s CYO dance my psychologist doesn’t approve of me reliving. So I fled the dance floor and rushed into the bar. I got there just in time to grab the last stool and see Bill Crowley and school president, Leanne Giese walk in. They were just hanging around at the end of the bar without a drink in their hands. I looked over at the bartender and gave her the universal “high-sign” - an unspoken language among us food service alums that says; Oh miss! A round of Old Fashioneds for my friends please!  

It was nice that the school VIP’s came out for our party first instead of other classes’ who had booked the hipper places down in the Third Ward. But isn’t the Third Ward becoming just a little too tedious?  Just sayin’.

Just then, the Club brought out its signature appetizer; a huge patter laden with fresh ground sirloin, sliced Vidalia onions, crusty seeded rye bread and of course…a pile of golden brown, deep fried cheese curds. Damn it’s great to be back in Milwaukee!  Unfortunately, I lost most of my food tokens to my friend Bob playing bar dice.  Good news was I had just enough left for a Cannibal Sandwich, and maybe a trip later on to the dessert trough. I dashed over to the card table and quickly loaded up a plate just before my other friend Bob could get there and snag all the tastiest curds.

Getting back to my stool, I heard raucous laughter coming from the end of the bar. What did I see but Mr. Dominican doing a stand-up comedy routine for all my classmates with his, (apparently), hysterical story of how in 1967, he gave me a C in Biology and Phys. Ed!  Can you even imagine??

 Then, while still nursing the drinks I bought them, Bill & Leanne launched into a string of one-liners about my Extra Curricular's that had the room in stitches!  Another friend named Bob said it reminded him of the wild night in Thailand when he was backstage at the Bob Hope & Ann-Margret USO show.

After dinner, while enjoying heaping bowlfuls of the Club’s famous Lime Jell-O & Miracle Whip Compote, Bill apologized for the incident in the bar, admitting that maybe some of the clubs listed on my official transcript really did exist, but since he never paid any attention to the PA announcements I made, he never knew for sure either way!  But seriously... The Ushers Club??

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Leanne give Bill the high sign - which in this case translated to; It’s time to go to the Class of ’79 party at the Earl Scheib Banquet Hall on North Teutonia.

As I walked them to the door, Bill said,

“You know Murph, MATC would’ve accepted you without padding your transcript.”

“True, but not UWM. And wasn’t that your alma mater?”, I said with a grin.

"You realize no UWM alum has ever received the Dominican High School Distinguished Alumni Award.”

“Haha! Gotcha Bill! I gra—"

“—I know.  Nor will any graduate of the SEC!”

“Well played sir…well played.”

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You too will have an unforgettable evening of 

#Special Memories, all for the small price of an Old Fashioned. 

Have you registered yet?

OMG it's totally EASY!  Just go here:

https://dominicanhighschool.ejoinme.org/50yearreunion

Use your credit card and you're DONE!

It’s going to be a great party.

See you there!

Hey la!

A teacher walks into her classroom.

She opens a MacBook Pro and brings up a single PowerPoint slide.

The class goes silent.

She begins…

Teacher: "Good morning class. Now, before we do anything else today,  I’d like to answer a question that was posted to my Facebook help page:  Dear Ms. Gruyere, is there an easy way to remember the difference between Potential Energy and Kinetic Energy?  Why, yes there is  - and you might want to take notes on this - Potential Energy is you sitting there thinking how amazing you’ll look walking around the Notre Dame campus next Fall.  Kinetic Energy is you schlepping around UWM because you failed this class. Got it?  Great!  Moving on: I have some very exciting news for you - the winner of  our 2017 Distinguished Alumni Award is…

Student Bobby: …it’s the ‘My Pillow’ guy from TV! The pillow that adjusts to your individual sleep needs!

All Students: Assorted cheers - he rocks - way to go! - he sucks! - etc.

Teacher: No. It’s not the guy from the ‘My Pillow’ commercials.  Did he go to school here Bobby? Do you even know what “Alumni” means??

Student Bobby: Do you??

Teacher: (ignoring him) This year’s alumni winner is Monsieur Marcel Le Ralral!

All Students: (grumbling) Who?? Wha?! -  the hell you say! - WTF? - he’s not MY award winner - I want to bear his children! - #resistmarcel, etc.

Teacher: OK, OK. Quiet down.  I think you’ll feel differently when you hear the story of this amazing Dominican alumni...

Yes, I suppose some might call her “hot”.   What?  No, I don’t have her number!

"Details about Monsieur Marcel's life are a little sketchy. We know that after graduation, he went into the Army and spent time in Thailand. Officials believe that's when he became immersed in jungle culture. Legend has it on his days off he would hike up to a village, sit crossed legged on the ground with the elders and say, “Bon jour! Je m'apple Corporal Shriver - I used to be Sergeant Shriver, but the Peace Corps demoted me! hahaha! Now, how about I teach you how to feed your entire village with a kettle of my world famous ox tail soup??”

Students: (grumbling) Ox tail soup sucks! Ugg – it’s gruel - dog food - meow mix, etc.

Student Gwen: Hey!  I’ll have you know that I just happen to like ox tail soup!

Teacher: Of course you do. Thank you, Gwen.

Students: (all together)  Thank you, Gwen 

“As I was saying, it was the indigenous peoples who awarded him the honorary title, Phæa thī̀ mī chīwit, or Monsieur Marcel Le Ralral the First. 

Returning home to Milwaukee, he retained [REDACTED] and legally changed his name from [REDACTED], to Marcel L. Ralral. 

‘Ricky Kielbasa’
Courtesy Milw Police Dept

We know that a few months later, he borrowed his best friend's medical school lab coat and using the alias, Ricky Kielbasa, he interviewed for a job with the new Milwaukee Does women’s professional basketball team.

Inexplicably, the Does hired him to be their Glutes & Quads Trainer. ‘Ricky’ fled after the players complained of his so called, “hands-on, advanced training techniques”.  At the bottom of the slide you see a picture from December, 1978. It was drawn by a Milwaukee Police Department sketch artist based on statements given by members of the team. Tried in absentia, Marcel’s trail went cold for many years.

Then, just a few days ago, a series of grainy pictures appeared on the underground guerrilla website, "Che Today”, based in Puerto Rico. Case officers at the CIA are expressing high confidence that the grainy images are indeed that of Marcel and his traveling companion, Kon-Tiki Krissy. With the local policía and FEMA in hot pursuit, they were able to slip out of the country, avoiding capture and certain jail time."

Student Cathy: Jail? What is it?!

"Well, Cathy…it seems Monsieur Ralral was sent to Puerto Rico by FEMA to assist with the Hurricane Maria relief efforts. He was so upset by the devastation and the idiotic bureaucracy that he decided to take matters into his own hands.

The Che & Raoul Show
The Best in Caribbean Proletarian Sports Talk
Courtesy “Che Today"

Using the skills he perfected in Thailand, Marcel roamed the hilly Puerto Rican countryside. Arriving at a destroyed village, he would sit with the elders and introduce himself saying; ¡Hola! Mi nombre es Michael Anthony, the representavo personalo of John Beresford Tipton, Junior.  Then, with Krissy holding his battered leather valise on her hip, he’d and reach in and hand them a cashiers check for one million dollars - drawn on the FEMA account!  It was brilliant. Highly illegal, but brilliant!  Hopefully, someday, when they come out of hiding, I can present this award to him in person. Some day…[snif]"

Student Debby: I’m so confused! It seems like, in trying to live his life ‘on the edge’,  Monsieur Ralral not only walked right up to it, but then he jumped over. Why… WHY?!

“My, my. Aren’t you the clever one, Debby?  You should discuss that in your break-out sessions. But let me just say this: Like the smell of the Lake Michigan alewives, he is no more than a dream remembered. A young man, [she sobs]…gone with the wind.

You could hear a pin drop. She knew they were staring at her. Damn emotions got the better of her again. Can’t let them see me like this! She wiped her eyes, gathered herself  and said to the class, “Now, please put everything under your desks…"

Marcel Ralral

Just then, fire alarms went off; reeeek-reeeek-reeeek!!

Emergency strobe lights began to flash!

An image walked quickly past the classroom door, pausing in mid-step to look in the window,  for just the briefest of moments.

A student shouted, "It’s HIM!”

“Who??”, asked the teacher.

“The guy on the slide! Marcel Ralral!  He’s in the hall!!"

The teacher gasped. The class broke into spontaneous cheers and applause. Chaos!

She rushed to the door and craned her neck, looking down the hall. There was no one.

She walked back and stood motionless in front of the class.  Her face flushed. She could feel the warmth of the blushing spreading down her neck.  Her voice cracked as it competed with the clanging of the alarms, “Listen up!  Unfortunately, this means that today’s midterm exam is canceled. But, you’d better be ready on Monday!  Now gather up your things, get in line and exit in a single file. I’ll close the door behind you. Now let’s move it people! Tout d’suite!”

She hustled them through the door. The sirens from the Whitefish Bay Police and Fire departments were getting closer. They’d bring in the dogs and sweep the building. That’ll be interesting. That also meant classes would be canceled for the rest of the day.  Oh well... 

She closed the door and elbowed her way into the river of kids being shepherded through the hall towards the stairs. Between the clanging of the fire alarms and the jostling of the kids, no one could hear her singing softly under her breath…

🎤

 My boyfriend's back he's gonna save my reputation

(Hey la, hey la, my boyfriend's back)

If I were you, I'd take a permanent vacation

(Hey la, hey la, my boyfriend's back)

Trump’s New Usher Has Deep State in Uproar!

Trump Family Hires New Head Usher…
Turns The Clock Back 55 Years!

Elizabeth Warren: It’s a Scandal! It’s an Outrage!

The White House has it’s new Head Usher.  Amid a swirl of controversy, a little known newcomer, Robert Hoeller, will stand at attention and have the the Ushers’ Pledge of Loyalty administered to him by the Head Hostess.  Not much is known about this new, Mr. Outside.  

EEOC Investigation Into WH Hiring Practices!

Unnamed EEOC field office staff said they had completed a preliminary review of the applicants for this position.  "There were clearly several far more qualified candidates, including one “Barry Hussein”, a retired government employee, living on a pension, seeking to ‘give back’ to the community. 

Barry Hussein: Saddened that after 55 years, American is
no longer going to honor the deal he made when he left Kenya.

We were able to speak briefly to ‘Barry' as he walked from the executive conference room of the Willard Hotel on the way to his limo:  “Let me make this clear. I had a deal. The same damn deal that’s been in place since when I went to Occidental, then Columbia then Harvard and then the University of Chicago Law School as a professor [note; bystanders overhearing this laughed]. It was MY DEAL: Bus pulls up, Barry gets on the bus. The driver, he ax nooo questions - MY deal! Trump busted my deal to be the Usher Organizer. "

It’s not all work for the Head Usher!
Here we see Bob stuffing a priceless piece of Presidential
sports memorabilia under his shirt. Baahahaha

New White House Usher, Hoeller whips up a pan of his “extry-'special brownies. Said Bob, “I want to see Kellyanne after throwing down three of these! You little vixen!

Yippie ki-yay!!"

Bill Crowley, Dean Emeritus of Whitefish Bay Dominican High School has been a long time supporter of Mr. Hoeller’s. We caught up with “Bill” after a round of golf at Ozaukee Country Club. 

CROWLEY: Hey!  Thanks again for the dozen balls and pitcher of Old Fashioneds!!  Now what do you want to know about Bobby??”

ME: Is it true that when he moved to Kentucky, you scraped the BOB tattoo off your arm - the same way that Maximus cut out the SPQR from his arm?!

BC: Let me say that The Gladiator movie was filmed long after Bob moved to Kentucky. So, do you like movies about Gladiators??

ME: So how do you think your protégé will do as the new head usher.

BC: Bartender!  More Beer Nuts here?  Thanks pal!  Oh Bob’ll do just fine. You know I can still remember taking a young Robert Hoeller and Petey Walthers with me to the Fox Bay Theatre to see “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?”.  True Story…we’re halfway through the film and Hoeller stands up and yells out, You’ve got great cans, Liz!!  We went the Port Silver Diner after we were asked to leave. 

ME: No, no..how will he do as the new Chief Usher for the White House, not the Fox Bay!  Staff of 90 - Around Melania all day [wink, wink] huh???

WC: Wha??!!  Are you serious??  Why didn’t you call me??  That’s insane!! Don’t ever talk to me again!! [note: at this point the subject left the table and ran for the door]

The Long Bus Ride Home

It's all just one long ride Originally published December 14, 2015

Last week the University of Kentucky football team suffered a humiliating loss to their cross state rivals, The Louisville Cardinals. The line score tells the tale. Up 24-7 at halftime, the Cats managed to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory.  I started thinking about their bus ride home after a loss like that. Yes, the long, somber ride home with nothing to do but think about how badly you'd stunk it up.  My mind wandered back decades to the many, many nights I sat on the losing bus. And one night stood out above all other others. I've kept this incident quiet over the years -- and I know one man who even took it to his grave: Bob Schmitz. He was the last kid in the locker room that night --  he knew what really happened.

So as through a glass and darkly

It was a Friday night in early November, 1968.  It was the night our football coach erupted into his infamous 'Party Boys' hysterics. Bill McDonough was there and of course Kerry DeChant, Chris Spahn, John Wamser, Mark Rukavina, Charlie Schumacher -- well  the entire football team really.  The night a very large man had an explosive meltdown. Instinctively, most of us put our helmets on - unusual inasmuch as we were inside the locker room.

You see, it was our last game of the season and Mike Piotrowski's father had bought bags of McDonald's burgers and fries for the team to enjoy after the game. I had just stashed a bag with a couple of cheeseburgers in my locker. I thought I'd eat them in the bus on the way home. And it was just as I was doing this figurin’, that Coach, with his assistant in tow, came storming out of their office.  He stomped up to the blackboard, grabbed a fistful of chalk and hurled it at us! Kids ducked as shards of chalk ricocheted off  the lockers.  That was when we put our helmets on. The erasers were next.  Look out!  Rukavina's been hit!  MEDIC!!

FUTURE WALL ST. MANIPULATOR


SHREDS WHITE KNIGHTS IN OPENER

Here’s a rich kid from University School looking tough.

Watching from the sidelines, sensing the humiliation

and futility of their upcoming season are:

#21 Kerry DeChant, #70 Hugh Murphy 

and  #40 Dave Rinehart.

To put things in perspective, our football team was inept. Not bad - INEPT. We lost all eight of our conference games, plus one non-conference game!  We were shut out four times and scored a mere thirty-one points the entire season!  Not a typo: 31 points in 9 games! A record unequaled in the history of the Milwaukee Catholic Conference!

Our coah, Mezzy, had been a decent college lineman, turned incompetent high school coach. 

Coach Mezzy
"Youse guys open yer books to 'dat page - 
'da one wit doz pitchers."

Make no mistake; We knew we were hopeless two games into the season.  And you remember Denny Sweeney?  What a character he was!   During games, he'd saunter back into the huddle and complain that he was wide open on a pass route, but wouldn't get the ball thrown to him.  I remember it was during the Messmer game when Bill McDonough finally had enough of his BS and said, "Shut the hell up you wiener!!"  So naturally from that day on, every chance we could, we called Denny, "Wiener".  He hated it.  In the afternoon PA announcements I'd always add something like, "Will Dennis D. Wiener please report to Mr. Synold's office? Thank you!" 
Synold's office was in the boiler room. He couldn't hear the announcements. He always wondered why Denny would show up some days at 3:30!

I mentioned Bob Schmitz earlier.  Schmitz was one loony SOB.  He also happened to be  the football team’s student-manager.  He was the kid responsible for taking care of salt tablets, footballs, tape, whistles, chin straps and uniforms. You needed a Band-Aid? You went to Schmitz. You wanted an extra towel?

BOB SCHMITZ
Note: this isn't Bob Schmitz.
It's Pete Walthers.
I lost Schmitz's picture.
I think he'd approve though

You were nice to Schmitz.  He also brought treats for the bus rides to games; candy bars, oranges and towards the end of the season...a little something extra!

Contrary to urban legend, it was Schmitz, not Joe LaGalbo who brought the bota bag onto the bus (though you can't be faulted for thinking it was Joe!) Once our season was kaput there was no rule worth following. You wouldn’t think a Catholic high school football team needed a “No Drinking Wine On The Bus” rule. But ours did. And by the time we were 0-5 that unwritten rule was ripe for the breaking.  There was a small group of  players who always sat in the back of the bus when we traveled. Head Coach Mezzy and his Assistant always sat in the front row. Nice guys like Sweeney also sat up front – close to the coaches.  On the way home from the last few games, Schmitz would sit with us in the back and we'd pass around his bota bag.  When we sang "Moon River", you could be certain of two things: the Mateus Rose had kicked in and someone had pressed ham against the window of the bus!

All of this really bothered Mr. Wiener, who wasn't welcomed in the back.  Denny would be a real pain in the ass about it. He’d walk up the aisle, glaring at me, chastising us, threatening to tell, etc. etc.  Words were passed like, "You're gonna get it!" All this led up to the last game of the season, which we lost -- big surprise.  We lost them all that year!  Oh well, no scholarship to St. Norbert’s for me!  So down the road back home we go, bouncing around in the big, yellow school bus, laughing and ducking down behind the back seats to squeeze off long gulps of wine from Schmitz’s bota bag. Mr. Wiener was not pleased.

When at last we arrived back at Dominican there was Mr. Piotrowski with the bags of burgers and fries. We had just finished a humiliating season, but this night just kept getting better!  

Did Denny go into Mezzy’s office and cry the blues about the bota bag?  I don’t know for certain. What I DO know is a few minutes later we were ducking chunks of chalk! Mezzy was jumping up and down, the  veins in his neck popping out screaming, “YOU COST ME MY JOB YOU PARTY BOYS!!”  Then he singled me out. Moi?  Yes me!  OK, it’s true: On the last play of the game, with us leading by one point, I blocked the wrong way, letting my man waltz right in and flatten our QB, Chris Spahn in the end zone for a safety, resulting in a cosmic, soul crushing, one point loss – a loss which did, in fact, cost Coach his job (lol!)  
Here's what really happened: Since it was the last game, Schmitz snuck the bota bag onto the sidelines and we’d been taking big slurps on the bench, hidden under our 

giant, hooded football capes!  I never expected to play. I was shocked when I heard my name called in the final minutes of the second half!  The problem was…the wine had worked its way through my system. What I really needed to do was take a leak.  Oh well, no time for that now!  I grabbed my helmet and ran onto the field.  We were on our own 3 yard line leading by one point. All we, ( I ), had to do was not fuck up, time would run out and we’d win! 

So I huddled up, listening to Chris call the play. I tried to focus, but all I could think about was how badly I had to go!  Plus, it really bothered me that my uniform didn't have any grass stains, or good game-dirt on it. Now I'd stand out too much. When we broke the huddle and walked up to the line, (I played left guard), it dawned on me that I had absolutely no idea what the play was, or my blocking assignment. I looked back at Chris to ask, but his glasses were getting all foggy and he looked kinda freaky -- forget that idea!  Taking my official three-point stance, I figured I had two options: A) pull around right end and lay a crushing block on someone, which would look good to the fans, or B) pull around right end and just run out of bounds towards the desperately needed porta-potty.  I chose A.  Turns out neither of those options was correct. Oops!  Who knew?!  Game over...we lose! Looks like no scholarship to UW Platteville for me!  But at least now I really could run to the porta-potty. After which, like I already told you, there was the bus ride home, more bota bag, the sacks of burgers and fries and then the chalk throwing incident.

So, after his meltdown, Coach and his assistant holed up in the coaches office, never to be seen again that night. I was feeling pretty damn low about being singled out. I just sat in front of my locker for a long while. In the chaos, Mr. Piotrowski and the bags of food disappeared. That didn't help my attitude because I really wanted some of those fries.  The other guys were already coming out of the showers and hurriedly dressing by the time I took off my game uniform and tossed it to Schmitz in the equipment room.  I showered and dressed slowly. It didn't matter. My teammates, my amigos, had all left in a big rush -- too embarrassed I guessed, to be seen with me after my bonehead play.  [ NOTE: I found out days later they just wanted to get to this huge party, they forgot to tell me about, before the beer ran out.  It had nothing at all  to do with my  play -- phew!]

Nice play, Murph.
And do me a favor? Don't call me for 30 years.

Nice play BF.
Do you have practices to be that bad??
Luv you!

Schmitz had the radio on in the equipment room, “Those were the days my friends, we thought they’d never end…”.  I tied the laces on my desert boots and put on my letterman's jacket. I grabbed the sack of cheeseburgers I’d hidden in my locker, waved at Schmitz and began to walk out. I paused when I got to the coaches office. Still feeling rotten, I thought I'd knock on the door and say I was sorry for screwing up.  But then, from behind the closed door, I could hear the two of them cussing about us – and I clearly heard my name!  
Really?! Being very quiet, I set the McDonald’s bag down in front of their office door. I  took out my Zippo lighter and put it up to the bag. Slowly at first and then, WHOOSH!  Up in flames it went!  I pounded on the door as hard as I could and hollered, "WHITEFISH BAY POLICE!  OPEN UP ASSHOLES!!"  Annnd out the door I flew!  

I ran across Silver Spring Drive and into Golden Chicken where Wheeler was working. Gasping for breath, I told Wheels about the Party Boys incident. I knew he’d hide me in the storeroom if the cops came.  He had the Bucks game on the radio. We cooked up some chicken and I munched on a couple of tasty pieces while we listened to the game.

When we figured the coast was clear, I ordered a bag of crinkle cut fries for the road and headed out into the cool Fall night.  Walking east down Silver Spring Dr., I passed the Fox Bay Theatre. They had a double feature all lit up on the marquee; "Thunderball" and “From Russia with Love”.  Inside the lobby there was a big cardboard cut-out of Sean Connery.

 I got to Winkie's just as the #15 bus was pulling up.  I hopped on and casually flipped open my billfold, showing the bus driver my official bus pass - yeah that’s right; I had a bus pass, so what?! He gave me a look like he smelled the fries stashed in the pocket of my letterman's jacket. 
I settled in and watched the lights of the suburban houses pass by my window. The crazy events of the evening and what I'd done kept running through my mind and I thought, “That’s exactly how 007 would’ve handled things!”  

The bus passed Connie Browne’s house, so I knew it was about time to transfer. There may be some sort of reckoning come Monday morning, but for now there were fries to finish…relaxing in the back of the bus.

THE END

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The Author, (upper left) dropped out of UWM and moved to Florida when told by a Gypsy fortune teller at Sumerfest, "Your future life partner is on your yearbook page."

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1968 Dominican High School Football Team