Feature

As the title indicates, it all started for me, way back in 1954. We were sitting around our little kitchen table in our one-room mine-housing apartment, in Algrange, Moselle, France, discussing the story of the Roswell UFO Incident of July 7, 1947; which had just made it across the pond and into the local tabloids in Europe. Remember, this discussion took place, some seven years after the fact and only a few months following my own encounter with one of those infernal, otherworldly machines.

This discussion was taking place on a Saturday afternoon, after lunch, while in the kitchen corner of this tiny apartment. My mother was finishing up the lunch dishes and was trying very hard not clang the pans and silverware, and perhaps was maybe even trying to catch some snippets of this very serious-like discussion, taking place just a couple of feet away. Three of my dad’s friends from refugee camp days (in Austria) had enjoyed my mother’s fine cooking and were attentively listening to my father’s hypothesizing about the aforementioned Roswell debacle. And, I don’t use that term lightly, since, as you may know, at first the U.S. Military claimed to have been in possession of a genuine alien flying saucer, and then one day later, retracted their statement and renounced the whole incident as a giant kerfuffle over nothing more than a pile of a crashed weather balloon’s parts and pieces. That’s when all of the denials and coverups began; well, modern-day coverups, that is.

Now, why am I telling this story, you ask?

First of all, I realized then and there (that would be Algrange in 1954), that serious war-worn grownups like my dad and his friends, were actually discussing the possibility of extraterrestrial travel and the universe being populated by intelligent beings, other than us; formerly, the stuff of science fiction stories. Secondly, that my dad had given some serious thought to our planet not being the only celestial body with humanoid occupants. And thirdly, well, let’s just say that I learned a lot that day; more than I would have expected.

At one point, my father postulated that Earth was no more than the penal colony of the universe; perhaps just of our galaxy. This almost sounded like something out of Star Trek, with the Galactic Federation of Planets. However, in 1954, Star Trek hadn’t been created yet. His reasoning for this analysis was, he said, “it just seems like Earth is full of murderous scumbag sociopaths like Hitler, Stalin, Mao-ze-Dung,” and he threw in the mix the deranged Japanese emperor, Hirohito. At the time, we had not heard of an accurate accounting of the number of deaths, this murderous bunch had caused. He might also have mentioned people like Al Capone and other Chicago gangsters, who also wantonly ended the lives of folks they disagreed with.

Interestingly enough, Dr. Ellis Silver of whose book I wrote in my previous article, came up with a very similar theory to my father’s. Dr. Silver stated, “the Earth might be a prison planet since humans seem to be a naturally violent species and are sent here until we learn to behave ourselves.” Wow, spot-on, except that my dad came up with this idea, way back in 1954—sixty-five years earlier! Also, George Sr. will never get any credit for his pronouncement as he died in 1958. I guess, my dad was way ahead in his thinking regarding this subject matter. I’m just glad that at least, for once, I paid attention.

So, what my dad and Dr. Silver hypothesized was that planet Earth started out like Australia, a penal colony. In a way, it makes some sense. All the members of the GFPP (Galactic Federation of Peaceful Planets) banished their worst offenders here, over a very long period of time. Which is why we have such a variety of races and languages. We did NOT all originate from the same source and we are not all related.

For instance, this may be why the Tower of Babel tale is full of holes. Following the “Earth as a Penal Colony” theory, all the various convict groups of the planet got together and tried to erect a launch tower for a rocket ship, so that they could escape from their confinement on this planet. They obviously didn’t succeed, because they didn’t have the technology and wherewithal to build anything that could take off from that tower and fly. One of the issues contributing to their inability to finish the project was language.

Here’s a good one for you: lately I have been hearing an advertisement for the Babble language program, on the radio. The announcer finishes his spiel by saying something to the effect of “…that’s why Europeans speak so many different languages because they learned them through Babble.” Nah, we learned so many different languages because our next-door neighbors in other countries spoke different languages and to communicate, we had to learn their languages, and they, ours. Which brings me back to the tower of Babble (Babel).

God didn’t scramble the language of the tower builders; they (the tower builders) already communicated in a variety of languages, depending on how many groups of builders had arrived from various parts of the globe; who had been deposited here, from different parts of the galaxy. You with me so far?

As I indicated before, I came to the United States over sixty years ago, at age 14. By then (age 14), and since I was born in Budapest, Hungary, I was nearly fluent in Hungarian. Then, while spending four and a half years in a U.S. military-operated refugee camp in Austria, I had to learn German, because that’s what Austrian kids spoke. From the camp, we moved to France, where we lived for seven and a half years, so, I had to go to school and learn French. As we got here, to the United States in February of 1956, I was starting to babble along rather proficiently in English. While attending Berkeley High School, I took two years of Russian. And, even though I don’t speak Japanese, I did learn to sing the 1961 Japanese hit song Sukiyaka, which had been made popular by Japanese crooner Kyu Sakamoto.

The point I’m trying to make here, and I’m not trying to show off (well maybe a little), is that none of the languages I managed to learn over the years, have anything in common with one another. While languages occasionally borrow words or expressions from one another, the languages that I mentioned above, did NOT originate from the same root. Learning French didn’t make it easier for me to learn Russian, and learning German, had not been made easier by being fluent in Hungarian. And, speaking of one language borrowing words or idioms from another language, when I get together with Hungarian friends who have been in the States for forty or fifty years, we end up chatting in Hunglish. You got it, right?

I once read an article by this British linguist, who wrote that the Hungarian language had really nothing in common with any other language he knew of and therefore, could possibly have originated on Mars. We (Hungarians) laughed at his assessment! But he stated in his article that he was rather serious. At my next encounter with extraterrestrials, I’ll try to address them in Hungarian. With my luck, they’d be speaking Hindi…

Please give the following information that I’m sharing with you some serious thought: according to Ethnologue, an annual publication on the languages of Earth, “There are currently (in 2019) 7,102 languages spoken around the globe. In Asia alone, there are 2,300 languages spoken, in Africa 2,143, in the Americas 1,060, the Pacific 1,306, and in Europe, only 288 languages are spoken.”

Would you have guessed any of this? I had to actually look this information up. I was guessing, maybe 300-400 languages for the whole planet. Even that would be quite a lot. Boy, was I wrong! But 7,102 languages, that’s mind-boggling. Hence, the few languages that I was trying to show off with, are nothing but a tiny tinkle in a huge ocean of languages.

Taking a serious look at our mode of communication, over the centuries and the millennia, all languages have changed and evolved and maybe even crossbred. Way back when there were much fewer languages. Still, the variety was there and claiming that one common language got scrambled at the Tower of Babel, is just not a satisfactory or logical explanation. For instance, if there indeed was just one common language in the beginning and got scrambled at Babel so that all the builders were now babbling in different tongues, the base of those languages would have to have been the same and would have probably been written using the very same characters. This is where the Babel-Babble argument falls apart.

Latin letters or characters originating in Rome have been and are still being used in most European languages, as well as in the Americas, except for the various native languages. But, even using the same characters, the writer could very well be writing in one of the 288 European languages or dialects. Therefore, even though I can write using those characters does not necessarily mean that I can read all 288 languages. Here are some examples: English – cheese, French – fromage, Hungarian – sajt, German – käse, Portuguese – queijo, and so on. As you can see, using the same characters, I typed the word cheese in five different languages, and, unless you are versed in those languages, you wouldn’t be able to understand what I wrote.

Let’s take it a step further, the Brahmi script, for instance, originated in Ancient India and modern Indian scripts as well as several hundred scripts found in Southeast and East Asia have evolved from Brahmi. I dare you to write a French or English word, using the Brahmi script. Let’s go in the other direction; could you communicate in Chinese using the Latin characters, or vice-versa? I don’t think so! Here’s what I’m talking about, let’s go with cheese again. Hindi – पनीर, Chinese – 奶酪, Persian – پنیر, Russian – Сыр. See where I’m going with this? Once you get away from the Roman (Latin) alphabet, you are lost in that vast linguistic ocean…

Language is one of the main reasons—maybe even the main reason—that I believe various groups of emigrants or felons were deposited in various regions of planet Earth, by several very distinct groups of extraterrestrial alien beings or “wardens,” or, if you like, gods,” who then taught skills that would keep their colonies alive, keep them from starving, here, on their new home planet. Isn’t it interesting that these new arrivals were able to understand the extraterrestrials’ instructions? That’s because, in each case, they were communicating in the same language. It is also possible that, upon being deposited here on their new planet, these various groups did not originally interact; but over the centuries, there was definitely contact made between them.

As I wrote earlier in this piece, most of us didn’t even start thinking about the possibility of other intelligent, humanoid beings sharing the galaxy and perhaps the whole universe, with us, in anything but science fiction stories. Then, in 1947, with the Roswell Incident hitting the newspapers, people started to at least discuss the possibility of extraterrestrial life and travel.

According to former military and government insiders, there was not only talk of space travel but, in fact, the military had taken into its possession, parts, and pieces of the crashed Roswell mystery vehicle (s), which as it turned out, was not a weather balloon as the military claimed after the fact but, a genuine flying saucer. Some of the crash parts and pieces bore markings in an unknown, indecipherable language. Some looked like Aztec or Maya symbols and some more like Egyptian hieroglyphs.

Soon after all the crash, debris was removed from Roswell and transported via military vehicles to Wright Patterson Airforce Base in Ohio and/or Area 51. There, government scientists began their efforts to try replicating the alien spacecraft, and of course, government officials denied all of it.

Some years ago, a physicist named Bob Lazar claimed that he had been one of the scientists who had been tasked with reverse-engineering the Roswell Flying Saucer. According to Lazar, they first started working on the project at Area-51 near Groom Lake in the Nevada desert, north of Las Vegas. Lazar claimed that he was on the team that was trying to unravel the propulsion system of the Roswell interstellar flyer. Lazar stated that the secret of the UFO’s propulsion system was based on the use of element 115, which is a heavy and highly unstable element. Officials countered that Lazar was basically a phony, out to make a name for himself and had actually never worked for the government. They were proven wrong.

Just recently, in 2019, several decades after Bob Lazar’s original claim, American and Russian scientists (yes, you read that right!) working at a secret Russian laboratory, claim that they, in fact, were able to isolate element 115. I do wonder why are they publicly claiming this, and, is it in fact the truth? Or are they simply spoon-feeding us bits and pieces of supposed TOP secret information, so that we might stop asking questions about flying saucers? Are there crashed saucers stored in secret hangers and alien bodies in freezers at Wright-Patterson Airforce base? Do we possibly already have outposts on the Moon and maybe even on Mars?

Is it any wonder that these extraterrestrials have been keeping a very close eye on us for literally millennia, and not just since Roswell in 1947; to monitor what advances we have been making in our efforts to joining them in the Cosmos? Will an invite to join the membership of the GFPP (Galactic Federation of Peaceful Planets), be coming our way soon? Will we be able to understand the invitation? What language will they be using? Stay tuned…

Side note: In April of 2011, the FBI released thousands of classified documents. Among the thousands of papers, researchers found one very interesting briefing memo, addressed to J. Edgar Hoover, dated March 22, 1950. In it are a couple of surprising, typewritten lines. One of them has the following wording:

“…three so-called flying saucers had been recovered in New Mexico…” and another line states: “…bodies had anatomical differences from humans…”

You may draw your own conclusions, but I find this intriguing.

These are, of course, my thoughts and ideas, based upon my research, facts culled from lectures, museum trips, web searches, books, magazines, and videos. In other words, they are but a small part of a larger compendium of speculative scientific theorizing assimilated over a period of sixty or more years.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this topic?

My annual whining (see the reference to volume 6?) about my lack of summer writing creativity is probably sounding like a broken record. Try as I might, when July rolls around, I suffer from a total lack of article ideas. Some might say that’s been the case since 2012, but “them is fightin’ words.” It might be the long days, the late nights or the margarita IV, but something causes a block when it comes to finding 1,200 words to fill my August column. Needless to say, as I’ve needlessly said for the past six years, instead of sticking with one theme, this issue will be a collection of thoughts or a hodgepodge if you prefer.

Back to School for the Empty Nester

Back to school used to be such an exciting time when my girls were young. It was the start of the next challenge in their academic development. It also meant reacquainting friendships, beginning new activities and getting them the hell out of the house for 6-7 hours a day after having them around 24/7 for the prior ten weeks. Don’t get me wrong, I loved having the little ones home for summer vacation, but it was also nice to see them go back to school.

Once our kids graduate high school and go away to college, the “Empty Nest” syndrome can kick in. Most (not all) parents miss that day-to-day interaction with their cubs. Back to school brings a certain sadness or melancholy feeling as you say your goodbye’s, knowing that if they are a plane ride away, chances are you won’t see them again for several months. It took the Mrs. and me a while to find our way. Sure, there’s binge-watching TV shows, puzzles and walking the cat, but thank goodness for Facetime. That is probably our main form of life support.

My Concert History

I don’t drink (much) and I don’t gamble (much) and I don’t smoke (except for medicinal needs), but attending concerts and comedy shows have always been a vice of mine. In the past, I’ve written about my connection to music without ever chronicling the shows I’ve attended over the years, which would take up too much room, so for those of you who are interested, here are my overall impressions of the shows I’ve attended since 1974. I hope this will help you recall a few of the live shows you’ve seen and perhaps even bring back a few treasured memories from your past.

First Concert/Show I Ever Attended: The Hudson Brothers, at the San Jose Civic Auditorium, 1974.

First Real Concert: Foghat, Eddie Money, and No Dice, at the Cow Palace, 1978.

Favorite Concerts:  Journey, at the Cow Palace, 1981; Prince, at HP Pavilion, 2011; Van Morrison, Nob Hill Masonic, 2008; Bon Jovi, MGM Grand, Las Vegas, 2000.

Biggest Thrill: Finally getting to see Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers at the Greek Theater, Berkeley, three weeks before he passed away. 

Biggest Spectacle: Kiss, at The Cow Palace, 1979 or U2, at the Oakland Coliseum, 2012.

Biggest Disappointment: Whitney Houston, at the Shoreline Amphitheater, 1986.

Biggest Missed Opportunity: Day on the Green featuring Aerosmith, Foreigner, Pat Travers, Van Halen, AC/DC,  July 23, 1978. At only 15, my mom wouldn’t let me go.

Coldest Show: Hootie & The Blowfish, at Wente Winery, Livermore, 2008. The wind chill was brutal.

Warmest Show: Alabama, at the Cal State Fairgrounds, Sacramento, 1986. It was 103 degrees at showtime.

Loudest Show: Def Leppard, at Shoreline Amphitheater, Mountain View, 1986.

Coolest Historic Venue Show: Shooting Star, at Winterland, 1982.

Coolest Club Show: Marc Cohn, at Great American Music Hall, 1994.

Best Circle Star Memory: The Jackson Five, 1975. Heavyweight Champ George Foreman was in attendance.

Epic Last Show: The Keystone, Palo Alto featuring Eddie Money, Greg Kihn, Night Ranger, and Eric Martin, 1987. Eddie was so drunk he forgot the words to his own songs.

An Unexpected Great Performance: The Band Perry at Super Bowl City in San Francisco, 2017, and Eddie Money’s acoustic show at The Cabaret, San Jose 1990. Eddie redeemed himself in my eyes.

Best Seats: Front row center for Bon Jovi at the MGM Grand, Las Vegas, 2006.

Surreal Experience: Watching Luther Vandross do his soundcheck and talking with him at a taping of Alan Thick’s Into the Night late-night show, 1985.

Regrettable Missed Performance: Maroon 5 opening for John Meyer and Counting Crows at the Concord Pavilion. Traffic and parking sucked. 

Outstanding Opening Acts (I had never heard of): Jason Mraz opening for Jewel; Kings of Leon opening for U2; and Matt Nathanson opening for Train.

Best Vocal Performance: The Sweet Remains, at the Firehouse Theater, Pleasanton, 2016. Incredibly beautiful three-part harmonies.

Best Instrumental Performance: Lindsey Buckingham, at the Palace of Fine Arts, 2018 and 2008. He is a guitar virtuoso.

Most Historic Concert Venue: The Grand Old Opry, Nashville, 2017.

Coolest One Song Concert Performance: Jennifer Lopez and Lynn Manual Miranda, The Today Show Plaza, NYC 2016.

Most Unexpected Concert Moment: A fight broke out during a Jewel Concert at the Mountain Winery, 2002, which also happens to be the coolest outdoor venue to see a show.

Funniest Comedy Show: George Carlin at the Circle Star Theater, 1978, or Garry Shandling, Harrah’s Lake Tahoe 1984, although Sinbad put on an outstanding “clean” show at Tommy T’s Comedy Club in 2019.

Filthiest Comedy Show: Sam Kinison, Flint Center, Cupertino, 1986.

Where is the final book of the trilogy?  

Rest assured, Alive & Thrivin’, The Thrillogy of a Trilogy is in production. Even though my books are compilations of past articles, there’s a lot that goes into the production of a 270-page manuscript. Coming up with a title, assembling material, crafting acknowledgments, dedications, chapter introductions and a collection of fake reviews is all part of it. Then there’s the three-day photoshoot for just the right picture for the back cover. Once everything is turned over to my book editor, it goes into a black hole for several months before I ever see the first draft.

We are hoping to have the book out by the holidays so it’s probably safe to put it on your Christmas/Hanukah list.  It also makes a great gift idea. White Elephant gift is fine too. So long as you purchase one, I don’t really care how it’s delivered. Email me to reserve a limited edition, signed collector’s original. I’ll even hand-deliver it.

That about wraps up this year’s edition of Summer Writer’s Block. I could go on and on about my annual garden gopher wars, the amount of graduation parties we attended (a personal best of 11) or the fact that I finally finished watching Game of Thrones, but nobody cares. It’s more amazing that I actually finished this piece for the next issue as I’m way over deadline and the editor is breathing down my neck. Otherwise, it’s been a nice summer so far.

As my wife and I drive down the freeway, or the streets of a town, or the back roads in the country, I find my attention often being drawn to the image of various automobiles I see along the way, while my wife’s attention is generally drawn to the visage of beautiful scenery, gardens, farm animals, and objects of nature. I often ask myself, “What do I find so interesting, exciting, or intriguing, about the many various types and models of cars that catch my attention, especially those of years gone by?”

I have asked that same question of other men, especially those who have one or more old cars stored away in a garage in various states of repair or restoration. Just what is the mystery surrounding men’s passion and love of their cars? One person told me that the mystery of why men tend to fall in love with cars more often than women may be no mystery at all.  He said, “Men often bond with their cars because they perceive their cars as an extension of their self, as a confirmation of their maturing and growing up, and as evidence of their success in life.” Even more important, I believe, like many people who collect the paintings of Cassatt, Picasso, Monet, Kahlo, Seurat, and other renowned artists, car collectors love the emotional rush they get when they see a beautiful automobile that has been restored, preserved, driven, protected, and treasured.

While touring the Blackhawk Automotive Museum, I was intrigued by my conversations with a couple of the docents who shared with me their stories of how many of the beautiful and collectible automobiles there have become such revered, admired, and sought-after icons of years gone past. In search of the back-stories of how these people came to be such great promoters for the preservation of these works of art, I went back during a docent gathering and contacted and interviewed several more docents who work at the museum. Over the next couple of months, I will share with you some of the car owners and collectors’ personal stories of how innocently and passionately they became shareholders in this never-ending story of “The Art in Collecting Cars.”

Ed Spencer, for one, has always loved cars. He taught himself to drive his dad’s car and got his driver’s license at 14 years of age.  He would drive his dad to work and then continue on to school by himself.  He owned no car himself in high school, but his father bought him a used Corvette (1954 model) when he started college. Then, in 1956, after he graduated, he was drafted into the Navy and sold the car.

He served his tour of duty aboard the aircraft carrier, the USS Shangri-La. After one tour of duty in the Pacific when his ship returned to its U.S. port, his dad bought a used Cadillac sedan and gave it to him. After receiving new orders sending him to Atsugi, Japan, he simply asked a yeoman in the command service office if there was a way to get his car shipped to his new duty port. The yeoman clerk simply asked for a copy of his orders and to Ed’s great surprise, when he arrived in Japan, there it was, his great big 1956 4 door Cadillac sedan sitting on the dock waiting for him. He still does not know how it happened because his rank did not entitle him to get that kind of bonus. He was never questioned about it, nor did he receive a bill!

At that time, he says, the only cars prevalent in Japan were little Nissans and Datsuns, so can you imagine how popular he became when he showed up anywhere in Japan with what must have appeared to be a car worthy of royalty. When he went on liberty with his Cadillac, the local bar doors literally sprang open and the Japanese girls poured out and swamped over him and his Ichiban (meaning #1, the best, or First Class in Japanese) vehicle. No wonder Ed developed such an early appreciation of having the “Best” in vehicles!

After leaving military service, he worked for his father’s finance company for several more years. When his father passed away, he inherited some money and a friend suggested that they form a partnership in a new car dealership, which ultimately became a Chevrolet dealership in Livermore. For a while, they also owned a Dodge dealership across the street as well, and their business did very well. Cadillacs and Corvettes became his personal passion. The dealership continued under their ownership for about 15 years until he sold it. He continued to work for other car dealerships just to keep busy but now Ed is retired and living in Rossmoor.

Over the years, he continued to collect his “toys” until he got to the point that his home in Blackhawk with garages designed to hold up to eight vehicles, was not large enough to accommodate all of his vehicles. His wife Sheila is comfortable with her Cadillac Escalade type vehicle and he loves his 2007 Cadillac XLR (basically a Corvette convertible hidden in its Cadillac skin). Consequently, his love of luxury vehicles started early in his life and even today, he still prefers to own and drive what I might call “Ichiban,” vehicles.

A lovely couple they are, who value beauty, such as their home with its exquisite furniture, paintings, and artwork… and their beautiful cars. Indeed, these cars are pieces of art; art that is fun to drive and “take out for a spin.”  

It has come time to commemorate the 50th anniversary of one of the greatest achievements ever attained by the United States, the Moon Landing. On July 20, 1969, together we walked on the moon as a nation. The aircraft carrier USS Hornet, was the designated rescue vessel to recover our astronauts from Splashdown nearly 50 years ago today. Onboard the USS Hornet, is the Mobile Quarantine Facility (MQF), where Commander Niel Armstrong, Command Module Pilot Michael Collins and Lunar Module Pilot Edwin “Buzz” Aldrin were housed for the next three weeks, terminating any pathogens or “moon germs” our astronauts may have acquired in space that could potentially be harmful for us on Earth. It was astonishing to learn about their living situation inside the MQF, which contained a living and sleeping quarters, a kitchen and one bathroom for three astronauts, a surgeon and a mechanical engineer.

For the next three weeks, it was Bill Carpentier’s job to monitor our heroic astronauts for any symptoms of sickness or illness after their long journey. Bill placed himself inside the MQF alongside the astronauts and John Hirasaki as they both drew the shorter end of the stick that day.

However, Bill states: “It was John Hirasaki’s job to cook, while I got to bartend” and after further discussion, it was later uncovered that John H, through his wife’s eyes “is actually a heater and not a cook”. Once stationed in the MQF, John Hirasaki’s responsibility was to minimize any contamination or spread of pathogens into Earth’s biosphere from the landing and all the way to the MQF. Although, it may look like a classic Aitstream trailer, the MQF is equipped with all the essentials to fight extraterrestrial life that could be potentially catastrophic for Earth. By properly ventilating the air from the facility and keeping the inside pressure lower than the pressure outside, helping reduce and fight airborne pathogens spreading. 

Alongside the noble men that risked their lives for the safety of our Earth, were Bill Duncan and Bruce Johnson. Bruce operated the primary helicopter designated to retrieve our astronauts, while Bill manned the media helicopter as the flight crew landed back on Earth. Both men hovered over the Pacific Ocean on the splashdown of Apollo 11, ensuring the safe retrieval of the flight crew while simultaneously capturing breathtaking media footage some still remember to this today. While listening to the panel of these great men speak, we could view a slideshow of the original photographs taken that day thanks to Bill’s piloting. Many may recall Clancy Hatleberg, the first man, frogman, to interact with the astronauts by jumping out of the helicopter which was manned by Bruce Johnson, and into the ocean. Clancy’s mission was not only to retrieve the flight crew, but to disinfect them and the vessel they were in using chlorine bleach, minimizing the possibility of contamination from life outside Earth.  

After the panel discussion was over and the crowd disintegrated and dispersed, roaming around the ship admiring many of the extraordinary attractions centered around Apollo 11 and space technology. Eventually, I had the fortunate opportunity to meet with John Stonesifer and discuss in more detail the management of the MQF and his role throughout the entirety of the flight crews three-week stay, along with Dr. Bill Carpentier and John Horsaki. Witnessing the 50th anniversary of Apollo 11 and one of our greatest achievements leaves me looking forward to the 60th anniversary and the progression we have made since then.