The end of an American Royal and strange parallels

It is often the brightest places that cast the darkest shadows...I have just read the Grand Jury Report on the Jerry Sandusky Scandal at my Alma Mater, The Pennsylvania State University,. I have not felt this perfect storm of violent emotion since the early days of my journalism career when I covered the Catholic Abuse Scandal more than six years ago. I am also struck by the parallels between the two events and how faintly I am involved or connected to them.
Much has already been said by the talking heads (No, not those Talking Heads, they haven’t been relevant since the 1980s.) Some of the observation as been scathing; some of it has been heartfelt. Now people have been asking me for my two cents about the issue. In fact, I spoke with a reporter at the Philadelphia Inquirer for a story coming out in the Sunday edition. ( I’ll add the link when it arrives.)

The question that the reporter asked was “did I feel ‘betrayed’” by the situation or anyone involved. The answer was “No.” The only way I would feel betrayed is if I were a victim that spoke up and found nothing being done. I would describe my feeling as ‘profound disappointment’. After reading the report, I would add ‘Righteous Indignation’. By page 6, I found myself wishing Sandusky tortured in ways that would make the Spanish Inquisition blush.

This is not my first time as a spectator at the sexual abuse scandal rodeo…perhaps a poor choice of words but you get the picture, if you don’t, read this report. In my short career, I’ve covered some tragic stories like this and some great heartwarming pieces like this. Despite my emotionally calloused exterior, child abuse/sex scandals never EVER get any easier and are the only reason I still support the death penalty.

As a young boy, I was taught to respect and listen to my elders. As I was educated in Catholic institutions, this included those in Holy Orders. It was also my elders (grandfather, uncles, cousins, father, etc.) who introduced me to College Football, specifically Penn State. Coach Joe Paterno was, like in many homes, a revered figure. I wouldn’t necessarily describe him, as others have, as a god per se. But I will admit that Paterno is the closest thing to royalty in America. Much like our parish priest was the embodiment of Christian behavior; JoePa was the physical embodiment of integrity, leadership, respect.

It was later on in life that I would discover that both are merely human. I survived a near-miss, almost being a part of the Catholic Abuse Scandal, after an incident that could be seen as an innocent gesture made me feel very uncomfortable. It was right before a Mass that I was serving; my friend and fellow altar server that day informed me of certain rumors concerning the priest celebrating the Mass that day. At first, I shrugged off the warning as ludicrous but this priest put me and my friend side by side, patting our faces; I saw something in his own facial expression that cause to decide never to serve the altar at Mass ever again. I would later find out this particular priest was named in the Philadelphia Grand Jury report.

I met JoePa once during my time at the Main Campus at Penn State. I was working at McClanahan’s. It was just after the end of Football Season but not quite the end of the school year. I saw Paterno enter in the side entrance, to the Penn State Room, of the building. I was busy cleaning arranging shelves. While I still respected and was a little in awe of the man, I had a job to do so I continued doing it. I noticed that when students saw JoePa they would hide from him but the locals would go up and chat with him. He would chat with them. (I wonder how they treat him now.) I realized then that he was just as much a ‘townie’ as they were. As I continued on with my work, Paterno walked up to me.
“Hey kid, where you hiding the papers,” he asked me.
“They are up front Mr. Paterno,” I replied, pointing the way out to him.
“Thanks,” he said and walked off. That was that.
(For the record, in addition to the New York Times, he purchased a half-gallon of V-8 juice. While in the checkout line he signed two autographs as well; one for the checkout girl, the other for the bag boy. He was quite gracious and didn’t seem annoyed by the request.)

What’s the point in my telling you these stories? Well, I feel the focus of this scandal has been shifted to the most likely scapegoat and not the actual guilty party as this piece points out.
Another who should be also in the spotlight (and also recently lost his job because of the Sandusky Scandal) has been rather absent of the discussion.

It took some time but I learned that former PSU President Graham Spanier is a schmuck. Like my earlier naivete about my parish priest, it was a friend (and later roommate) who warned me not to trust the Chief Executive of the University.
“Why do you hate Spanier so much?” I asked Ben Bullock as we walked to the gym for our daily workout session.
“He’s an idiot,” Ben replied.
“In what way,” I asked.
“Well, every year, he always says that he will reduce the influence of Greek Life on Campus Culture. Do you see any reduction of influence?” Ben replied.
As we walked past some fraternity houses and dorm rooms with sorority letters in the window, I came to realize that Ben was right. “And besides,” Ben continued. “Spanier’s own daughter is pledging to become a sorostitute.” (Sorostitute is, of course, being the derogatory term for Sorority members.)

In the final analysis, I hope Sandusky, Curley and Schultz go to prison for their part in this scandal and cover-up. Spanier’s dismissal is also a fitting punishment because as the head of the school, the buck ultimately stopped with him. How McQueary still has a job is beyond me. At 6’4” and 28 years of age, McQueary was more than a match for the older Sandusky, no matter how fit he was. This incident that he witnessed happened while I was still a student there. McQueary’s decision to run way will probably continue to haunt him. I don't care how much I respect someone; if I caught them diddling a child, asses will be kicked and police will be called that I guarantee.

But the question of everyone’s lips, “What About JoePa?”. I do not condone the student rioting (with or without the media’s help) that occurred this week; although I do understand it. I no longer wonder why he never named Sandusky as his successor. After reading the report, JoePa did nothing LEGALLY wrong. He’s morally culpable as all hell; Paterno publicly admitted that he ‘should have done more’ but should that make him a demon in the eyes of man? For some yes, for me, no. While I do not agree with his actions, if I were to see him in public, I’d still offer to buy him a drink or even shake his hand.

I agree with my former ethics professor, Russell Frank. Despite everything that is currently happening, I am still proud to be an alumnus of Penn State University. It was the faculty and my friends there, not the athletic department, which helped mold me into the gentleman that I am today. My former co-worker and fellow Alum, Joe Turkos agrees, “We should be proud of our school. As graduates, we need to advocate the purging of the university of those who allowed this to happen, while not forgetting the real victims.”

I’ve met abuse victims; they and their stories are not easy to forget.

The unsung heroes of Election Day

“Is this where I come to vote?”

This was the most common question asked by voters as they arrived to Bethany Lutheran Church on Martin and Pechin Sts. Many polling places were suddenly changed which may cause a low turn-out election year to sink even lower. My own polling place, where I had been going since I was 18, had been moved one block away.

The City Commissioners in their ‘infinite wisdom’(and are up for re-election) said the changes were due in large part to accommodate handicapped voters under the Americans with Disability Acts regulations, but were only announced two weeks ago without much publicity. I had seen signs in my neighborhood but I was too busy to really pay attention. I never really thought about it until a friend informed me that his polling place had changed. That same day I received a letter in the mail informing me of the change.

In the 21st Ward, where I lived, the local community weekly blamed the Democratic Ward Leader for the fiasco. The man in question, Lou Agre, was stung by the accusation.

“I tried telling them that this decision had nothing to do with me but they wouldn’t listen,” said Agre, who I randomly ran into while on my way to vote. He was checking on campaign and poll workers.

The second most common action taken by campaign workers posted at Bethany Lutheran was directing voters to the correct door to enter to the polls. Many tried to climb stairs that would have lead into the church instead of the basement.

“We should have put an arrow pointing the correct route,” said Paul Kerstetter. “Does anyone have a piece of chalk or something?”

Sadly, no one had a piece but with the lack of turnout; it seemed hardly necessary. Kerstetter was out stumping for the Green Party Candidate of Sheriff, the only non-major party candidate on the ballot. Kerstetter was joined by Bill Morris, who stumped for the Democratic Party, and others.

Despite the diversity of party and viewpoints, there was camaraderie among these people. All were from the neighborhood or near enough. To while away the long hours, since polls opened at 7 a.m. and closed at 8 p.m. , these workers talked amongst themselves discussing candidates in the current race. It was generally agreed that a certain Republican Candidate for City Council At-Large did himself no favors on the way he handled the story of his military service.

But the conversation wasn’t all just politics, sports gave way to general news. It was also generally agreed that the entire administration and athletic staff at Pennsylvania State University should be replaced. (At some point, I’ll speak more on this issue later.)

The English writer Warren Ellis sums up Election Day for me; it makes me “madder than a bastard on Father’s Day.” In all honesty, it was a lot of fun hanging out with these workers today; just regular folks hoping to get the vote out. They were certainly lucky receiving some fine weather…but the only thing would have made it better was a more positive attitude.

“Don’t want your propaganda,” said a moody voter, rushing past the workers.

All you really had to say was, ‘no, thank you.’

For the latest election results, click here

Doughnuts and Beer...a fratboy's dream

It takes heart to put your money where your mouth is; but a fundraiser this tasty makes it so much easier. Down at the Devil’s Den, in South Philadelphia, a doughnuts and local beer pairing raised money for the Philadelphia Animal Welfare Society (PAWS). Patrons received three tasty doughnuts from Krispy Kreme and a flight of three beers all for $10. (PAWS received $4 of every sale.)

Autumn was the theme which included Krispy Kreme’s signature Original Glazed along with their Cinnamon Bun and Pumpkin Spice Cake doughnuts. To compliment these gooey, sugary snacks; the beers were of a spicy complexity that included Yard’s Thomas Jefferson Ale, Weyerbacher Verboten and Philadelphia Brewing Company’s Joe Porter.

According to its web site, PAWS is a non-profit organization dedicated to saving Philadelphia’s homeless, abandoned, and unwanted animals. PAWS is Philadelphia's largest rescue organization and only no-kill shelter, and is working to make Philadelphia a city in which every healthy and treatable pet is guaranteed a home. Through its adoption locations, special events, and foster care network, PAWS finds loving homes for thousands of animals each year.

This is not the first time that Devil’s Den owners Erin and Scott Wallace, who also operate the Old Eagle Tavern in Manayunk have raised money for PAWS. A PAWS fundraiser was held at the Old Eagle and Devil’s Den when Scott’s White German Shepherd, Loki, passed away. Loki was well-liked by patrons for his friendly, easy going manner.

At the Devil’s Den, a steady trickle of locals and even two beer sales representatives dove into this deal albeit begrudgingly. The beer reps had recently went on a diet and the sight of the calorie killing doughnuts was enough to induce the mouth to water.

“But I only wanted to donate to the cause,” said the one rep. “That’s ok, we’ll share it,” said the other.

So how did it taste? The doughnuts were very good but I think we all knew that to begin with, really. The beers were certainly paired with the right doughnuts but I felt like mixing and matching. Here are some highlights; with all three doughnuts, the coffee notes of PBC's Joe Porter really come out with a wallop. The Original Glazed was like adding the creamer to Joe Porter's coffee, it worked very well. The Cinnamon Bun brought out more spiciness from Yard's Thomas Jefferson Ale and cut the spiciness of the Weyerbacher Verboten.

In the grand scheme of things, it was a visit that was long overdue on my part to the Devil's Den. I am glad I finally made it to this establishment but since I have my Old Eagle within walking distance I knew what I was getting into. I'll be sure to stop by sometime in the future.

On the shelf

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies: Dreadfully Ever After by Steve Hockensmith

My rating: 3 of 5 stars


I won this book from the giveaway section of GoodReads. Naturally, before I read this, I borrowed it's progenitor from a friend. I enjoyed that as well but I found the mash-up not as enchanting as I first hoped. It was, of course, obvious why PPZ should be a NYT Best Seller.
"PPZ:Dreadfully Ever After" picks up about four years after the events of PPZ. It is a brisk adventure full of plenty of thrills, chills and spills. It is excellent mindless entertainment. (No Pun Indented.) It is easier to read that "PPZ" because it makes no attempt at imitating the language of Jane Austen and gets right into business. Thankfully, one does not need to read the Prequel, "PPZ:Dawn of the Dreadfuls", to know certain new characters and their back story. The book while fun also misses the boat because it could have gone farther in developing character arcs, plot developments and other opportunities. The beginning feels fine but toward the center, the plot feels rushed and thins were wrapped up too quickly. The final chapter definitely reads that it was tacked on needlessly and very preachy. While the writer and/or editors at Quirk Books were able to keep the London locale terminology consistent, it would have been nice to have a map of the areas in question and compare them to our own world.
Big fans of PPZ will enjoy this but the causal fan can figure out what happens.



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A silly place for a mole

By Lorraine Scally as told to her son, Bernard Scally

Twelve years ago while visiting my optometrist, Dr. William Putterman, I told him that my right eye was seeing zigzag lines from top to bottom where I should be seeing straight lines. He sent me to Nova Care who sent me to Wills Eye Oncology. I had something on the retina of my eye but neither Nova Care nor Wills Eye knew what it was.

After four years of 3 to 6 month visits and numerous testing, the thing (not yet officially declared a tumor) started to grow. The doctors came to the conclusion that it was cancerous. Oh how I cried, I mean who ever heard of cancer of the eye?

Nine days after this prognosis, I was admitted to Wills Eye Hospital. I had my eye cut open and radioactive chips were placed on the tumor. I was kept in an isolated room for five days then returned to the operating room to the chips removed. As a result of this surgery, I lost about 75 to 80 percent of the vision in my right eye.

Soon now, the waiting game began. The six-month follow after my surgery showed that the tumor was shrinking and continued to do so for the next six years. Then two years ago, the doctors saw some changes and decided to give me a treatment with a nuclear laser. Six months after this treatment, I was informed that there was a very small bleed in my eye but there was nothing to worry about so we continued our visits.

Sadly, this past January, I had a vision in my affected right eye that scared me greatly because it occurred while I was driving. I can only describe it as my eye looked like it was kaleidoscope but all in back. Four days after this incident my eye returned to its normal condition. During my February visit this year, I was informed that the blood was a cause for concern. was referred to Dr. Joseph I. Maguire who felt it best to leave the blood alone as there was not enough to extract and the bleed may sort itself out.

On May 7, 2011, I obtained a massive headache and complete blindness in my right eye. Thinking that it would clear itself up, I tried to ignore it but after two weeks without abatement I returned to Wills Eye Hospital. Immediately, oncologist Dr. Carol Shields recommended removing the eye because it was full of blood and the likeliest source of the bleeding was the diminished tumor. I was stunned but I refused to relinquish my body part until I knew that it was the tumor for sure. I returned to Dr. Maguire within a week. I was again in surgery to remove the blood. When I returned the next day, everything seemed to be well but two weeks later, my eye again filled up with blood. It was also discovered that the tumor had grown even bigger than it had been eight years ago. There was no choice anymore; my eye had to come out.

While I had this tumor in my eye, I had headaches all the time. Since my eye was removed on June 30, 2011, I have had one had headache because I did not take my medications. Thankfully, the cancer was contained solely on the inside of my eye. my advice to all would be to keep a check on your eyes. Have your eyes tested as often as you are able. After some cursory research, I found that eye cancer is more common that I first thought. If you suspect something and your doctor doesn't listen, find a new doctor.

Now that I have a new prosthetic eye from Dr. Kevin V. Kelley, it is a new challenge for me but with the help of my family, friends and church, I will survive.

Photo credit: Bas Slabbers/for www.newsworks.org

We are 'Occupied'...but what next?

I admit that when I first saw the "Occupy Philly" protest. I was not so impressed with the gathering itself but with the traffic snafu it had caused that day. A few days before I did sign an online petition asking that Student Loan Debt be forgiven. It seemed pretty reasonable...until I was getting emails of every leftist MoveOn.org petition thrown at me later on. So my vision might have been a little skewed when I visited City Hall on Oct. 6. The one thing I knew for certain is that if I ignored it, I would have definitely regretted it.
I did not. I was impressed with the conduct of the protesters and the police. I narrowly avoided the 2001 Fat Tuesday Riot on South St. because I saw the signs of something bad about to go down. I never felt that vibe during the whole time I was at City Hall. I have a few humanitarian concerns such as food, shelter, toliet facilities. After speaking with my uncle, I also wondered who was paying for the police overtime because of the protest. Of course, we know the answers to that now. We are, in effect, paying for this.
It was after seeing some neighbors, Susan and Don Simon, who lived through the protest of the 1960s and walking around with my buddy Hugh Giordano, that I started to appreciate the goals, though unfocused, of this particular protest.
My friend, Lisa Lutwyche, puts it more succinctly:
(Note: Bolded emphasis are all hers)

""Occupy" is trying to expose this: there is such an enormous gap, growing every day, between the corporate bosses and bankers & the rest of us, that my kids who are in their twenties might NEVER know the comfort and stability I USED to know (before the bottom dropped out of my career). And, no matter how many jobs my husband and I have, we might NEVER again know financial comfort or stability in our lifetime.

We DO work. I work in excess of 50 hours many weeks, combining all my jobs, to say nothing of the 24-36 hours per week of graduate school work that I do...My husband has no health insurance, mine is 44% of my income (but I can't give it up if I ever want treatment or testing for cancer...since I had the audacity to survive cancer in the past), we have NO savings anymore, we drive cars that have both exceeded 200,000 miles and there's no end in sight.

THAT's what people are "marching" and "occupying" about.

Who made this happen? What became of the people who created this? They are better off than ever before, in most cases, and we are worse off than our grandparents were...and if our kids weren't born into families of corporate executives, bankers, or derived wealthy inheritances from the death of someone...they have little hope of a future.

We, as a country, don't MAKE anything anymore. Our manufacturing has all been sent overseas, and it's NOT the fault of the unions, it's the fault of the GREED of the the companies who used to make things here.

WE need to let "Wall Street" and "Corporate America" know that they are responsible, as citizen of a democracy, to the other citizens of that democracy.

Otherwise, who are we as a country? We are that wall of NYC cops, all in dark clothes with handcuffs dangling from their belts. We are the Cadillac Escalades, pushing in front of our 18-year-old Ford Tempos because "that's just the other half and I'm better because I have more money.

Enough. Can't we, please, get our equality back? Narrow the margins of net pay between the people who do the work and the people who profit from it? Can't we make things in America and get some faith in ourselves again?

That's what the people are trying to say.

Is anyone listening?"

There are people listening and who sympathize. Giordano repeatedly called this protest 'Democracy in Action" (I call Hugh Giordano, my favorite 'Watermelon Communist', because he is the spokesperson for the Green Party in Philadelphia.) But even he agreed with me that when all of this is over and the protesters go home was it all sound and fury signifying nothing?

Getting back on track

After a Plimpton-esque debacle into politics, I have come to realize that journalism and the media are my true passion. Informing the people is a nobler and more rewarding profession than having an office in City Hall.

Lately, I have been writing up a storm. Most of my freelance work recently has been for WHYY’s NewsWorks.org. Here's a list of stories either written by me or about me can be found right here. But it is time that I branched out a bit again and do a little bit more. Really get back into the "Gentleman's Odd-yssey" that I once promised. So in the next couple of days, I'll touch on a variety of subjects humorous, topical and deeply personal.

Enjoy.