jouets dans le grenier
l'ameublement idéologique pour l'esprit sans foyer
Some of my readers may have noticed my fond recollection at the head of my “Speak 2003-present” page, describing my continuing association with folk from my very early life. While sentimentality prompts me to leave that tally there, I must report that its content is perhaps no longer literally true, and why.
First of all, one may notice that several folk of considerable importance to me never made it to that short list, having dropped out in various ways according to situations already described in "Speak, Memory." Most notably there we find the loss of High School's Sally Rae Kennedy, her sister Julie (Poole) and step-brother ("blood" to her) Tom (Claibourne) Tahi. By way of the Herreras, I've lived to witness the demise of Maxie's Cynthia Durbahn (of South Milwaukee) and all of her husbands - Kimberly Clapp's dad (and herself), Maxie (Chris' dad), and Frank “the Hat” Saraceno, and somehow alienated Jay's first wife, Andrea's mom, Genna Lane. [◄ At left: Andrea, Jay, Jake Hoover, and Genna.]
My last encounter with Ron Lusker is pretty much told at the bottom of Speak 1980-1986. The Spicuzza brothers, Wayne and especially Joe, here no longer, can only be remembered as good friends. After Sally obtained and refused to return the work I did for Tom in 1984, it was Joe’s copy that reinstated it to me. He also contributed news of the Near North side as long as he lived.
I managed to see Deanna after Wells while briefly attending my 3rd attempt at a college start-up in the Fall of 1955, that one being at the University of Illinois’ Navy Pier ► campus. We were in a nearly empty auditorium at the Pier’s end, and her being with a new guy she simply ignored me.
One more time. In the Fall of 1965, I was completing my preliminary training in computer programming at an upstairs dive on South Wabash called BMI. Presumably after a contagious moment of hilarity, some colleagues and I tumbled down its stairs into the evening street, and I nearly collided with someone I believe to this day to have been her. Not especially unlikely, since Deanna’s step-dad was thought to be a bartender at Chicago’s Blackstone three blocks away – where she may also have been employed. This time I did the ignoring – perhaps unfortunately, since I may have been starting a successful career that included her. But it would be 15 years before any serious money was involved, and I’m sure she did well without me.
With the advent of Facebook, I have occasionally posted what I thought were interesting, even if highly fictionalized, representations of Deanna. On the left below is one I used 3 years ago: one on the right is from her Pouttu FB page.
O/a 5/18/2020 Deanna was moved to post a photo of Myla ►, “the baby of [her] family.” Bobbie Clayton seems quick to have commented that “she looks so much like I remember you looking when we were young.” As we may recall, Bobbie was a year ahead of me at Wells HS in the ‘50’s, where she was my personal font of romantic wisdom. But her recollection of Deanna’s appearance is at radical variance with mine. No one looks less like Deanna then than Myla now.
I must remind my readers that Wells class of 1955 had no shortage of attractive young ladies. A least a dozen would be worthy of special attention – even Bobbie, who graduated the year before. If Deanna had refused to be my prom date, I would have turned to Rosalie Neufeldt (presumably fending off Jess Brodnax’ similar attention, below). But nowhere in this running would I have considered (particularly now that I do not even know her) some ordinary nice-looking person like Myla. I am in fact embarrassed that Bobbie should make the assignment.
I found Don sometime in the late 60’s, working as Quaker Oats DP Manager in Chicago's ◄ Merchandise Mart. His machine was an HW 200, Honeywell’s version of the IBM 1400 series I worked with. He pointed out that he might not have chosen computers over sports (he was Wells’ star quarterback), except he enjoyed liking the things I liked. He also mentioned dating Deanna after our Prom, when she confessed her surprise and dismay over my inarticulate admiration (presumably I should have fucked her at least once, per her doorway admonition in September of ’54 - ala Rabelais, "Fais ce que tu veux.").
We were in his computer room when I heard this, where I was carelessly smoking a cigarette. Some ashes landed on the floor – he mirthfully accepted this WTF moment, and after further chat we separated amiably.
It included correspondence from many of our alumni, including Don and Bobbie. It must have been apparent that I was low on funds, but Don mentioned he recently had about $66k, some of which he might have lent but already lost, and now owned a camera shop in Arizona. Then a few years later he demanded I remove all his communication from my site, and I complied. I incidentally asked if I might obtain a copy of our table photo from the 1955 Prom – answer: there were no pictures. End that.
Brodnax and I were perhaps prominently involved with the Civic Association at Wells, where he thought of me as ‘”Mr. Point-of Order.” Although he was what we now call an African-American, he thrived in his purported association and kinship with our all-White faculty, including one Miss Mazurek (his and Don & Deanna's French teacher), and with our Principal Goodman and his Assistant named Klest. Keen to Jess' eye was little blonde Rosalie Newfeldt, who next to Deanna would have been my second choice for our Senior Prom in 1955.
Jess currently defines himself as a Regional Technician with the US Department of Commerce. Around 2007 he was associated in upstate New York with a Bell sanctuary ►, and we shared a few long distance phone calls. Somehow I used the appellation 'bro,' which he quite indignantly noted did not apply to us. Most annoying was his clandestine post to fellow Wellsite Bill Yacullo’s timeline, posturing vast indignation over the capsule of Deanna on my reunion site. Another end of conversations.
To: firstname.lastname@example.org Sent: Thu, Aug 09, 2018 06:34 PM
From: Tom Korinek email@example.com Sent: Fri, Aug 10, 2018 01:43 PM
The preceding has a somewhat different flavor from his earlier <firstname.lastname@example.org> Sun, 19 Apr 2009 08:04:56 -0700 text:
Tom’s earlier post starts with a delightful reflection on the style of Frank Walz (RIP), our DP manager in the basement of Loyola’s Law school in the early ‘70’s. As our money man, Frank occasionally took us out drinking even after hours. His habit after we finished was to send us outside, then refuse to pay the bill. Loved to stress the system, as his bar habits with Tom indicate. Always management material, he appreciated computing skills without actually possessing them. And did not hesitate to improve my role & income when I worked for him.
When I left Loyola’s Maywood Medical School in 1969, Frank had become their EDP’s Assistant Manager, and Tom apparently the Systems Manager for the University’s administrative operations in Chicago - essentially, my old job. Except “Programming” would not be included in his job title. I was occupied with a new version of that activity, as I then practiced it on IBM’s floor model s/360 m40, and never regretted my choice.
Therefore I am left to wonder if Tom’s indignation over the closing lines of my Aug 09 text had something to do with a suspicion that I thought he was undeserving of my old job, which appointment I hardly even know about. As anyone might tell, I am vastly interested in biographies, and am glad under almost any circumstance to receive one. That he choked at Aug 09‘s reception, and might have deleted it under some undefined cloud, somewhat dims the grandeur of his reported success & tells he has perhaps led too hard a life obtaining it.
On February 7th Bobbie posted the following on her FB page. I will report the entire conversation, and then offer comment.
MO 2/11/19 0900 FB: Daurril "To me the only difference between for-profits and NPOs is that for-profits pay for services and NPOs, presumably organized on behalf of God, do not."
TU 2/12/19 1000 FB: 23 hours later, I received B Clayton's extensive reply to my NPO reference.
Joe Daurril: “I guess you must be right and I must be wrong.”
Bobbie Clayton Walton: “Right? Wrong? No, I just have different information.
And, a point of view I have developed over several years.”
TU 2/12/19 1144 FB: To B Clayton: "Here is the other half of my point of view on NPOs: https://atb.daurril.org/" (Shows bad certificate, brief message deleted in its entirety).
My comment 2/17/19.
First of all, I have some correction to her 2/12/19 text. Section 501(c) of the U.S. tax code has 29 sections which list specific conditions particular organizations must meet in order to be considered tax exempt under the section. Bobbie has offered us an incredibly superficial analysis of this material and entirely misplaced its reference to religious organizations (“… a different classification of the Code”). The Code proper not only references these entities, they are prominently and early delineated in 501(c)(3), as “Charitable, nonprofit, religious, and educational organizations.”
It is patently preposterous to trash my MO 2/11/19 comment by characterizing it as a reference to the entire spectrum of 501(c)’s collection. The term “NPO” is ordinarily constrained to the definition of subsection (3), where churches are known to be educational and charitable, hardly alien to the work of God as understood by adherents of any religious persuasion. But perhaps not Bobbie.
Along with the flaws in text, I am disturbed by her handling of TU 2/12/19. No attempt to query me on the problem. My questionable use of daurril.org’s aTB subdomain seems to arise from some quirk in my server’s assignment of certificates to index files in a folder having both htm and html versions. The problem might simply have been avoided if I had perhaps sent the uncontaminated html directly. But as I may have noticed earlier in my spoiled exchange with Korinek, I really cannot anticipate all the possibilities for misunderstanding that might arise from the tokens I use. Even so, once done I am hardly tempted, when people extravagantly fuck up what I do in the service of their own egos, to expend any great effort on benevolent correction.
Pontificating further: I am rather shocked and amazed that Bobbie might think I would deliberately send her a harmful link, particularly one attached to my one and only homepage. Following her cavaliér dismissal of my 15-year experience with a private organization that subsumed all the unaccountable evils she herself describes, I might not also expound on my local Methodist church’s volume promotion of yet more NPOs as facilitators of the Second Coming. Nor comment on its own not-infrequent habit of financially gouging even their own poor (presumably to redistribute to other poor) for the Greater Glory of God.
While communication with Bobbie’s younger sister Annette ►has always been a pleasure, my only problem now is the current lack of reciprocal comment on our FB posts. And that it might signal a negative response to something I sent her earlier. More than comments, we did some major biographical exchanges from 2011 thru 2015, all of which I’ve kept, and particularly in preparing this, reread.
Belatedly aware at the start of my Senior year that the Claytons had all relocated to nearby Harvey IL, I had no idea that the Deanna I usually saw at Wells was in fact then a student with Annette at Thornton. How precisely that worked is still a mystery, but whatever the case, both their pictures are in that school’s yearbook.
As well as being my designated HS favorite, Annette has had the patience to put up with my closet and unrequited infatuation with her best friend, the phantom previously mentioned. While at most I would only have liked to obtain a photo of Deanna (visuals being what it was all about), on 9/22/16 I received a note from Annette: "Joe I have found Deanna info." Followed by "I sent you an email letter. Hope you get it." Later: “Full name is now Deanna Janet Pouttu,” and I received the impression that she was last seen in the vicinity of Denver, where she may remain. Eventually I would find the Deanna material posted earlier. My FB Friend request on 3/38/2020 failed. Her references to Navy Pier in her enhancing message to Annette should have clued me that she may have read, and not much liked, what she already saw here.
Last update on 23-May-2020 at 7:53 PM
Previous update on 22-February-2019 at 9:52 PM