Remembrance with Tangential Introduction

For many Years, many years ago, I read a Weekly neighborhood newspaper. I read it for what would later be Termed hyperlocal news, but the gazette was quirky and so Also a source of entertainment. One of the most peculiar Characteristics was the inexplicable Use of capitalization. Fellow traveler Haldeman liked words and word-play — "Hold me closer, Tony Danza." — and I think he would have been delighted by the paper.

The weekly also ran a column by a Republican district leader despite the fact that local voters consistently elected Democrats, sending one father and son to the state assembly for a combined 72 straight years. The column might have reflected the publisher's political perspective but I suspect that anyone who could deliver a half-page of content every seven days would be given the opportunity.

The advertisements were often amusing as well. One real estate broker would regularly list available commercial spaces, for example, as "suitable for art gallery-hair salon-restaurant," with the hyphens seemingly describing some hybrid establishment attractive to the class of people who were gentrifying the area. "Just a little off the back and sides and I will have the croque monsieur."

Some of the personal ads were also unlike anything I had seen before. Every week, the paper printed ads such as, "Happy fifth birthday in heaven, Mom. Love, Carrie, Jo and Jimmy." I don't think that the Carrie and her siblings believed that their mother could read the ad, but you never know. It was more likely a public remembrance.

Haldeman getting his unique angle on things

Speaking of which, today is our friend Haldeman's first birthday in heaven. (The late Harry Robbins "Bob" Haldeman, President Richard Nixon's chief of staff and Watergate conspirator, was born on October 27, 1926.) It was Haldeman and his wife who introduced Melvin and me, shortly before they relocated to another part of the country. I was literally a going-away present, arguably a consolation prize, from Haldeman to Melvin. (Full disclosure: our wives at the time fittingly figured into the introduction.)

I wasn't in regular contact with Haldeman after he moved but if an itinerary brought Melvin and me close by, he would join us on the 'baseball byways' for dinner and a game. Oysters in Kinston and heavy armor rolling past the outfield wall in Fayettenam come fondly to mind.

the aforementioned salt-water bivalves

Most recently, Haldeman accompanied Melvin and me for the full duration of our last three extended trips; the 2022 itinerary through the Upper Midwest, last year's tour of the Southeast, and Kansas, Oklahoma, and Texas beneath the "heat dome." He acclimated quickly and except for his driving, was a great source of constant good cheer. Then, last fall, he died in an accident during a bicycle race. (Bob Haldeman, a practicing Christian Scientist, died from abdominal cancer on November 12, 1993.)

accelerating into the curve

I attended a funeral not too long ago that was sparsely attended; the man's son and daughter, a son-in-law, a couple of neighbors and me. The priest mentioned the deceased's "challenging personality." I wouldn't describe Haldeman that way but I did find him to sometimes be, as the saying goes, "too much of a good thing." That phrase gets used when the amplitude reaches "too much" but it is a mistake to forget that the baseline is, "a good thing."

Melvin and I have traveled the 'baseball byways' with various friends and we wouldn't hesitate to have any one of them join us again. Haldeman, however, was exactly what the dynamic needed. After three trips together, whenever Melvin and I imagined future adventures, Haldeman was always there — expounding at length on some topic or singing a silly ditty — except now, tragically, he is not.

"Lil bingo now! Lil bingo!"

"Schtunning."