SOUTHPORT STAFF PROFILE 

TRAVEL

Crusing--Irish Style

        by Karlyn Curran 

Karlyn and Barb with Andy Cooney on his Cruise of Irish Stars

My college friend Barb and I spent a week cruising the western Caribbean in February, visiting Key West, Ocho Rios, Jamaica, the Cayman Islands and Cozumel, Mexico. Although each port provided interesting and fun-filled activities, this was not the reason why I chose this cruise. Nor was it the reputation of the ship (Costa Atlantica) or the need to escape Cape Cod's unusually cold and snowy winter. (That was a bonus!) I chose this cruise because it featured a terrific lineup of Irish entertainment.

Andy Cooney's "Cruise of Irish Stars" has been an annual tradition for more than 15 years. Entertainers and passengers alike come back year after year to experience this great weeklong Irish party. The stars bring along their extended families; passengers come alone or in groups sponsored by Irish clubs. This was my first trip and I was in the minority!

Andy Cooney is an Irish-American born on Long Island. He and his band have entertained all over Ireland and the United States; he headlines at the Irish Village in Yarmouth every summer. He's known for his beautiful tenor voice, his wholesome and outgoing personality and his infectious Irish-American repertoire.

Ronan Tynan, a former member of the Irish Tenors, was the biggest star on board.

Cherish the Ladies, a traditional Irish all-girl group founded by Joanie Madden 25 years ago, played jigs, reels and ballads on fiddle, guitar, flute, tin whistle, accordion and guitar. Add in three energetic and talented step dancers and, in a break from tradition, a male lead singer and what comes out is a lively, foot-stamping show. Joanie's a sweetheart--born in the Bronx, loud, enthusiastic and always ready to party! I first saw her and her group perform at First Night Montclair(NJ) 20 years ago and have been a fan ever since.

Ronan Tynan, a former member of the Irish Tenors who struck out on his own several years ago, was the biggest (literally and figuratively) star on board. With his 6'4" ample frame, his bald head with ears that stick out perpendicular to it, two artificial legs (all of which he constantly makes fun of), his jovial personality and his powerful tenor voice, his performances alone were worth the trip.

Paddy Noonan is in his 70s and a master of the accordion; he leads a dance band (Irish, of course). He's been around forever, playing for Irish dance parties at Rockaway Beach and City Center NY. Listening to his music and his stories of the old days is like taking a trip down memory lane, but to a place that I had never been before. He gave Andy Cooney his start in the business.

Noel V. Ginnity is an Irish comedian in the tradition of Hal Roach. He performed summers at Doyle's Irish Cabaret in Dublin for years and took his act on the road in the United States during the winter months. He's mostly retired now but always joins Andy for this cruise. I laughed until my sides split!

Step dancing to the music of Joanie Madden's all-girl group, Cherish the Ladies

Throw in a host of lesser names--bar musicians that included both groups and singles and traditional and more modern artists, an Irish set dance instructor, a lecturer and an unbelievably inspiring Irish Catholic priest who said daily Mass and whose sermons brought tears to everyone's eyes--and you have the cast of performers. The entertainment started around the pool after lunch, broke for Mass and dinner and continued with a star-studded show in the main theater every night, followed by shows in more intimate venues that lasted until 2:00 a.m. or after.

On the last day, which was a day at sea, there was a "meet and greet" with all the entertainers present. It was an opportunity to purchase CDs and have them autographed, and also a chance to have a chat and your picture taken with the stars.

Since I had seen almost all the headliners perform before and had heard of the rest of them, being in their presence and hearing them again was a huge thrill. The cruise was a lot of fun. I'll probably be back next year along with all the other repeat stars and passengers who wouldn't miss it for the world! The only thing I missed was the company of some other Southporters. Come along with me next year; you won't regret it.

Have you ever walked up to someone, hugged them, or shook their hand, only to find out that you were mistakenly thinking that you knew them? The embarrassment of the situation is, of course, immediate. The apologies are stumbling remarks from both parties. In some cases new friendships are formed. It parallels in some ways, the forgetting of a person's name that one has not seen for a long time. You can only hope that they see the terror in your expression and offer their name to you. It is always good to approach these situations with another person that may remember names, places, and times better than oneself.

There have been people, of very scientific minds, who think we live in a parallel universe; a universe that is, or could be, mere light years away from us. They think that there is life just like ours, and in some cases, beings that are our twins. It gets better. What if there is a writer, such as myself, who is creating the same verbiage at an exact rate that I am, making corrections, amending paragraph structure, and generally doing exactly as I do.

Try to think about déjà vu--the illusion of having previously experienced something actually being encountered for the first time. (I took the quote from Webster so that I could get it perfect.) Does this all sound like Rod Serling on Twilight Zone? Can you see yourself questioning the fact that it might be true? Let's take some examples of déjà vu.

You're on a trip; one of your children says something and you instantly remember hearing him say those exact words before, as you passed a place just like the one you are passing now. And yet neither one of you has ever been here before--déjà vu!

You are at work, and someone says something unrelated to anything being said that day, but you have heard that very same person, who you may or may not know, make that very statement before--déjà vu!

You travel to a new city or state where you have never been in before, and yet you have the feeling that you have most surely been in the exact spot, in front of these same buildings, and you are hearing the people's conversations the same way you heard them at another earlier time--déjà vu!

Now here's another thought. What if this other planet was full of us, but the time element was different by a decade or two. Could it be possible that we might be in two different worlds with a mental connection to each other, and through telepathy of some kind we live our lives twice? What a wonderful thought. We could actually correct their mistakes by avoiding them in our current time. Maybe we could visit their world, what with all the space travel of today. Then again, they might be decades ahead of us in time. Their travel might be so advanced that we can't even detect their comings and goings.

Think about these thoughts the next time you walk up to someone and swear that they look exactly like one of your relatives or friends. They just may be, you know, from out there.

         For now, be well, and may your God bless you...Joe

March Brown Bag Lunch

Rick Paulus

Chief Calligrapher for

Presidents Bill Clinton & George W. Bush 

TRUE STORY

Eliot Sklar: Boy Hero

     as told to Ernest Ruber 

It was July 27, 1935, Saturday afternoon at the park on the corner of Walnut Street and Park Street in Roxbury. There were a lot of people there. I was nine years old, playing with my friends. Eileen Gillette, who was about six years old, was playing nearby with her friends. I saw Eileen, who I knew, on the ground. A dog was biting her ankle. Perhaps she screamed, I don't remember. I loved dogs and didn't fear them, so I ran over and grabbed the dog and tried to pull it loose. When it wouldn't let go, I grabbed it by the neck and tried to choke it; then it released its grip on Eileen.

By now the police and fire department had been called and were on the scene. Reporters and lawyers (we called them 'ambulance chasers') also arrived. Eileen was taken to the hospital by ambulance. A reporter from the The Boston Herald-Traveler remarked that he was surprised that with so many older men around, a young boy was the only one to react. The reporter decided to write a story about the event and took me to the hospital for a photo with Eileen, in which I pointed to the wounds on her leg. That was the end of the story, and my family forgot about it.

Four years later, on Monday, February 15, 1939, I received a telegram from Cary Grant's publicist, instructing me to come to the Keith Memorial Theater at noon on Thursday of that week to receive the Cary Grant Award for Valor. Keith Memorial was the biggest theater in Boston at the time, and Cary Grant was to appear there for the opening of his movie, Gunga Din.

When I arrived at the theater, I met Carry Grant, who I remember as a towering figure, and went onstage with him before a full house. He patted me on the head and told me I had done a great job and that he was proud of me. I felt that he really meant it and was very pleased. He gave me a sterling silver medal (which I still have) on which was 

Eliot Sklar displays the 1935 newspaper story about his courageous act and the medal for valor that he received from Cary Grant in 1939.

engraved: Cary Grant Award for Valor--presented to S. Eliot Sklar--The Boston Traveler (the newspaper must have sponsored this event).

Mr. Grant told me that the medal entitled me to come to the theater for free for one full year-and to bring a friend. But I never went. It was the depression, and my father, a printer, was out of work. The fare from Roxbury to downtown Boston was too expensive, and besides, my family thought I was too young to go into the city without an adult. Some years later, our family was invited to Hollywood at Cary Grant's expense for a get together, but we were unable to go. I enlisted in the Navy soon after and forgot all about these events.

Perhaps 20 years later, my eldest son, Kenny, who was a senior at Sharon High School at the time (he's a doctor now and 60 years old), came home and told his mother: 'There's this girl, Cheryl Wayne, who asked if my father's name was Eliot Sklar. She said he had saved her mother from a dog.' My wife didn't remember this, but we talked and of course it was true. Cheryl's mother Eileen Wayne (nee Gillette) was the person I had rescued. We got together for dinner at her house and reminisced about the event and the 'old days' in Roxbury.

DINING IN

Saint Patrick's Day Dinner

     from the Southport Phantom

CORNED BEEF & CABBAGE

Directions
1. Place corned beef in large pot or Dutch oven and cover with water. Add the spice packet that comes with the corned beef. Cover pot and bring to a boil, then reduce to a simmer. Simmer approximately 50 minutes per pound or until tender.

2. Add whole potatoes and carrots, and cook until the vegetables are almost tender. Add cabbage and cook for 14 more minutes. Remove meat and let rest 15 minutes.

3. Place vegetables in a bowl and cover. Add as much broth (cooking liquid reserved in the Dutch oven or large pot) as you want. Slice meat across the grain.

Prep Time 10 min Cook Time 2 hrs 25 min Ready In 2 hrs 35 min

Corned Beef Basics
Today, corned beef is usually made by soaking a brisket roast in a brine of water, salt and spices. While it's not traditional in Ireland, corned beef is what Americans prepare for St. Patrick's Day. For centuries, corned beef was a food reserved for special occasions. Beef was considered to be a decadent indulgence up until the 20th century. It was only available to very wealthy people, because most cows were kept for their milk or for breeding. Brisket comes from the heavily exercised front limbs of the animal, and is consequently a tough cut of meat. When cooked properly--braised--this cut is tender, juicy and succulent. Corned beef and other forms of brisket need to be cooked for a long time with low heat and plenty of moisture in order to realize their potential as the star of your dinner table.

Southport (Canine) Profile: Lilibet Albanese

I'm Lilibet, a six-year-old whippet born in Ohio to Champion Darjeeling Little Teacup and Sire Wildwood's Espirit de Core. Due to some inexact point of conformation, I was spared the arduous life and discipline of a show dog and adopted by the Albanese family of Dogleg Drive.

Ancient urns and mosaics often depict large dogs, resembling modern day greyhounds, hunting deer and other game. Being a smaller version of those dogs, it is said that whippets were crossbred with terriers to give us great speed and smaller size to hunt rabbits and small game. We are noted for being the fastest breed of dogs, capable of speeds of 35 miles an hour.

     I am a sighthound (or gazehound), i.e., a breed that hunts primarily by speed and sight, instead of by scent and endurance, as scent hounds do. However, I also have an extremely good sense of smell. When out and about, I am generally seen with my nose to the ground in search of some animal scent or the wonderful odors of the woodlands.
     Whippets are very popular in Wales and are valued by Welsh coalminers. When taken into a mine, we respond quickly to the presence of gas, a forewarning of danger. We also serve as bed warmers, having a characteristic liking to being completely covered at the foot of the bed under the bedclothes. Many pubs in Wales have Whippet courses in the rear of the building for rag races on weekends.
     By nature I am not much of a barker or tail wagger, but I enjoy the attention of people I meet when walking my companions, Isabelle and Nick, along Pine Hill Boulevard. I watch people approach and wait until they arrive to quietly greet them. I like being the brief center of attention and a friendly pat on the head.
     I can become very focused and single-minded when spotting a small animal, having an instinctive urge to chase (for which reason, I am seldom allowed off my leash). I do, however, enjoy meeting dogs if they do not greet me too aggressively. Contrary to the misconception that my breed is hyperactive, I'm actually a couch potato, preferring the comfort of a soft chair, particularly one bathed in sunlight.
     Winter is not my favorite season, not having been endowed with a generous protective coat of fur, like most of my canine neighbors. With a sweater and plastic windbreaker; however, I enjoy as many walks each day as I can encourage Isabelle or Nick to join me.

For more information about sighthounds, see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sighthound