I went at the old Madison Square Garden twice, maybe three times…
The last time I finally put my foot down and told my mother I didn’t actually like ballet and wasn’t going to go anymore.
Then my father took me to Madison Square Garden.
They used to have a sideshow. Well, not really – as in freaks and geeks – but in the low-ceiling basement you could walk by the chained elephants and gawk at the giant and I’d never been so scared in my life. Because this was 60 years ago, when safety laws were not as strict, when the only thing separating me from the animals was a couple of feet of air.
And I took a ring off the finger of the giant, I think the fee was 50 cents. I kept that gold plastic circle forever, at least until my mother turned my bedroom into her office and threw out not only that ring, but my World’s Fair hat, my baseball glove and…
I just heard it was the 50th anniversary of the first Super Bowl.
I remember it vividly, it was a curio not a must-see. I was at my friend Marc’s house, with him and his father and a buddy – that father and the buddy are gone – but it seems like it was yesterday. No one expected the AFL to win, but then only a couple of years later Broadway Joe showed us who’s boss and football eclipsed baseball and the Yankees sucked and it seemed like everything I knew was changing. Continue reading