Grady Saves Brother Virgil's Life

Performs CPR after kitten collapse

A Man For All Seasons

Dickie Donnelly (L) with coworker Steve Collins on Donnelly's last day

Richard Donnelly retires from The United States Postal Service

(Tribute I wrote to my good friend Dickie Donnelly as it appeared in The Arlington Advocate November 25, 2009)

Arlington, Mass. - You may have seen him on a summer afternoon pulling letters from the collection boxes on Court Street.

Or maybe he helped you carry that over-sized Christmas parcel to your car one icy December day. Perhaps he met you at the loading dock to assist with those heavy boxes as you sent your sons and daughters off to college in the fall, then welcomed them home in the spring.

Whatever the occasion or season, if you lived in Arlington during the past 20-plus years, you can bet Richard "Dickie" Donnelly has helped you connect with the people you love; helped you say hello and goodbye, collect and pay bills, and return things you never ordered.

And now, after almost 40 years as a mail handler, Donnelly is retiring from the United States Postal Service.

Donnelly began his career at Boston’s South Postal Annex in 1970, back when the cost of mailing a first-class letter was 10 cents. A dedicated employee, he showed his devotion during the Blizzard of ‘78; as snow piled up outside, and coworkers fled the city, Donnelly finished his shift before catching one of the last trains out, hiking the final leg home in a gale-force whiteout.

In 1988, Donnelly transferred to Arlington where he continued to perform his job at a high level. Distinguished by steady attendance and a team-first attitude, his is a record to be proud of. But there was more to Donnelly than reliability and production.

Every workplace has its go-to person. At the Arlington Post Office, that person was Donnelly. Lose your car keys? Donnelly will help find them. Need an up-to-date weather report? See Donnelly. Need to know if one of your coworkers is in today? Just ask Donnelly, he’ll tell you. With his kind heart and gentle nature, Donnelly was a friend to all who worked with him.

A popular employee is hard to replace, and after several failed attempts by coworkers to get Donnelly to change his mind, it became painfully clear that Richard Donnelly was no Brett Favre. His decision was final. He was retiring. But it gives those who worked with him great comfort to know he will still be out in the community performing his duties as a member and volunteer fundraiser for The Arlington Association of Retarded Citizens and The Arlington Food Pantry. He also plans to improve upon his already impressive bowling game and continue his regular workouts at Fitness First.

So remember, good citizens of Arlington, while you’re putting up those Christmas, Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day and birthday cards you display around the house throughout the year, chances are, Donnelly had a hand in delivering them to you.

And if you happen to see him as he runs his various errands around town, don’t hesitate to say "thanks" because, although he may seem shy at first, you just might end up making a new friend.

And take it from the people who know him best — his former coworkers — Dickie Donnelly is a friend worth having.

http://www.wickedlocal.com/arlington/news/lifestyle/x1682937998/A-man-for-all-seasons-Richard-Donnelly-retires-from-the-United-States-Postal-Service

A little publicity....

Stoneham writer contributes to book on ‘The Boss’

The Stoneham Sun

November 11 2009

By Vladimir Shvorin/Correspondent

Stoneham - Jeff Blout of Stoneham has been listening to Bruce Springsteen since he was a 13-year-old begging his parents to attend a show. Though he didn’t see “The Boss” that night, he made it to many other concerts, and his loyalty, along with his writing, has been showcased in a new book about Springsteen titled “The Light in Darkness.”

“When I first heard about the book, I was unsure on what I was going to write about,” explained Blout. “My parents didn’t let me go to the concert because I was too young. And that’s exactly what I decided to write about because it was a unique angle. At the time, I was just living vicariously and longing to see Springsteen.”

Focusing on the 1978 “Darkness on the Edge of Town” album and tour, the new book from Lawrence Kirsch Communications includes 200 fan photos, original stories and firsthand accounts. All of the content was produced and penned by Springsteen’s followers, leaving no doubt as to how the idea behind the book came about.

“I wanted this book to serve as a souvenir of sorts because of all of the fantastic [Springsteen] concerts and records that I’ve experienced,” explained Lawrence Kirsch, the book’s publisher. “After about 30 years of seeing shows and meeting unbelievable fans in many different cities, I felt that we needed a touchstone so we can say, ‘This is what Bruce does for us, this is what he stands for and this is what he’s all about.’ And it all began when I requested fans to submit their stories for the book.”

For the uninitiated, Bruce Springsteen’s cult-like following may seem startling. His loyal fans, who have been following him across the country since he began touring decades ago, are equally loyal to each other as they are to Springsteen. According to Kirsch, that weighed heavily on his decision to compile “The Light in Darkness.”

“This book was a very community-minded project,” said Kirsch. “I tried to get as many people involved with it as possible. I received many submissions, but we couldn’t publish them all. My feeling is that, every one of the stories that we published was representative of many peoples’ experiences. I questioned whether I’d be able to do a book like this about any other musician or brand of music.”

Blout, who also had an article published in Newsweek magazine, was eager to participate in a project so close to his heart. The rest of the experience, he told, was made simple by Kirsch.

“This is the first story on Springsteen that I’ve ever submitted anywhere,” he said. “Working with Lawrence was a pleasure. I got in touch with Lawrence through [a mutual friend] who’s been to more than 150 shows. And he’s known Lawrence for years. After introducing me, Lawrence let me circumvent the online submission form and make my entry as long as I wanted. The experience was fantastic. It was seamless to work with Lawrence.”

As for a future collaboration, Kirsch and Blout both seem to agree that a fan’s work is never done.

“I’m sure Lawrence has something cooking,” Blout said. “But I’m sure he’s also busy promoting this book right now.”

http://www.wickedlocal.com/stoneham/fun/entertainment/x809130174/Stoneham-writer-contributes-to-book-on-The-Boss

My New Friends

Meet Grady (left) and Virgil

The Light In Darkness

A new book from Lawrence Kirsch Communications focuses on Bruce Springsteen's Darkness on the Edge of Town album, tour, and legacy.

from the website...

Bruce Springsteen's Darkness on the Edge of Town broke new ground for The Boss in 1978. A counterpoint to the operatic elegance of Born to Run, the album was an angry, raw record that burst forth after a three-year hiatus.

Because of its darker tones, some might call Darkness a difficult album, but despite this, it's a cherished gem for many.

Collecting stories and photos from hundreds of fans, The Light in Darkness celebrates this classic record, allowing readers to revisit the excitement of that moment when the needle found the grooves in that first cut and the thundering power of "Badlands" shook across the hi-fi for the very first time. Or the uninitiated, but soon-to-be-converted teenager, brought along by friends and finding salvation at one of the legendary three-plus hour concerts - shows that embodied all the manic fury of a revival meeting.

My thoughts:
The Content: The Light in Darkness is a spectacular addition to the Springsteen print library. The chronological presentation provides seamless narrative flow and the photos – including the pre-show shots from Winterland and Augusta and the marquee and ticket stub shots – are just phenomenal. The book is the ultimate retrospective tour program. A rock and roll time capsule. If you haven’t already done it, order yourself a copy, put on those ‘78 radio broadcasts, and immerse yourself in one of rock’s greatest bands during a seminal season.

Lawrence Kirsch: On a personal note, I’m sure all contributors will agree, it was a pleasure to collaborate with Lawrence Kirsch (My coming of age essay – “Itching for Something to Start” appears on pages 104 - 105). The attention to detail, the painstaking organization of such an abundance of material is no small task. The finished product shows no outward signs of struggle, but anyone who’s been involved in the editorial and publishing quagmire knows that what Lawrence has accomplished with his two books on Bruce is pretty special and required hours of contemplation and devotion. I am proud to be a small part of this history.

In my opinion, For You (Kirsch's previous book on Springsteen) and The Light in Darkness are among the top five Springsteen books ever.

Order your copy here...
http://www.thelightindarkness.com/order/

Here's my contribution to The Light in Darkness

Itching For Something to Start

“What’s the name of your record?” the teacher asked.
“Piece de Resistance,” I said.
She raised her eyebrows and nodded approvingly. Looking back, I suppose she was anticipating French opera.

It was 1979, and as a 14 year-old high school freshman, I thought a music appreciation class would bolster my growing fascination with rock music. I was wrong. We spent most of the term listening to Air Supply songs while our teacher unveiled cleverly camouflaged orchestral flourishes embedded within the compositions. For the final class, however, we got to bring in our favorite records, play a few cuts, and explain what they meant to us.

I placed the needle on side 5 of the three-record set and watched as the other twelve students grimaced and shook their heads.

So much for appreciation.

In 1978, my parents decided I would have to wait another year before going to my first concert, so I lived vicariously through the live albums of the era. The Stones’ Get Yer Ya-Ya’s Out, Seger’s Live Bullet, The J Geils Band’s Blow Your Face Out, and The Who’s Live at Leeds. I’d sit for hours, headphones on, creating a virtual rock and roll festival in my head while flipping through the pages of Creem, Hit Parader, and Rolling Stone.

But there was one soundtrack missing; Bruce Springsteen didn’t have a live album, ironic since of all things said and written about Bruce, the one most often repeated was, “Wait until you see him live.”

Well, I had no choice. I had to wait.

I was into Bruce. My older brother had Born to Run on 8-track and I listened to it often; but, because it had been released before I began buying records, its impact, while significant, was not enough to separate Bruce from the other bands I was a fan of. There’s no substitute for being a teenager and living through the anticipation and arrival of a new album; the moment of discovery; the hope and possibility that it may change you.

If I remember correctly, “Prove it All Night” was on the airwaves before Darkness on the Edge of Town was released. I was a fidgety kid with a short attention span, the type of student who read a paragraph six times without comprehension, but everything slowed down when I heard Bruce whispering to his unnamed lover during the song’s bridge. I was accustomed to frustrated authority figures talking at me with raised voices, telling me what to do, what to think. And here was this subdued, hopeful voice laying it on the line over a bass drum heartbeat like a ghost in my speakers saying, this is what I want you to wear, what I want you to do, I can’t make you go, but I think it’s important. Then, as the song faded out, Bruce’s anguished moans told me that the outcome was still in doubt. And that was the beauty in it; he was inviting me to draw my own conclusions. There was a longing for connection that, as a self-conscious 13 year-old, I found both overwhelming and reassuring.

I bought the album the day it was released and memorized the lyrics in two nights. I had never committed anything so lengthy to memory before. Some of the older kids were catching shows as the band made its way around New England visiting various college campuses and small theaters. I envied them in their concert tee-shirts as they told stories of Bruce jumping on the piano or venturing out into the audience.

As summer drew to a close, Boston radio station WBCN announced they would broadcast Bruce’s September 19 show from Passaic, New Jersey. I lined up a pair of TDK cassettes in front of my brother’s Nikko stereo and prepared to capture the moment.

Things rolled along smoothly until about 80 minutes into the show when, just after “Jungleland,” Bruce addressed the crowd. “We’re gonna take a twenty minute break and we’ll be back to do another set for ya.”

I made two major show-taper mistakes that night; First, I learned it takes more than two 60-minute cassettes to capture an entire Springsteen show, and second, if you edit out crowd noise and storytelling in an effort to cram the music onto those tapes, you end up with the musical equivalent of a widescreen motion picture reformatted for television; still worth watching, but a far cry from the panoramic scope the director intended.

So, not only was I born a year too late to see the Darkness on the Edge of Town tour, I blew my opportunity to own a document that would hold me over until the next tour. Or, so I thought.

The following spring, bootleg recordings began appearing like fine jewelry in the display case at my local record store. I knew about bootlegs; shady characters covertly taping concerts, reproducing them - often in horrendous quality - and selling them for outrageous money on the black market. A forbidden antidote for the musically obsessed – undeniably enticing.

Among the items behind the glass was a tan colored box with a mimeographed photo of a well-dressed Bruce Springsteen. Piece de Resistance was the title and I recognized it immediately as the Passaic show from the previous September.

“Can I see the Springsteen bootleg?”

The clerk eyed me warily copping a beat-it-kid attitude like a pusher on a corner. Perhaps it was the $20 - secured with a double advance on my allowance - that convinced him I was a serious prospect. Minutes later, I was out the door with the package under my arm. The fact there was no receipt underscored the buyer-beware aspect of bootleg culture; regardless of the quality, I would be broke for the next two weeks. It seemed worth the gamble, and I applied righteous indignation to justify purchasing an unauthorized recording of my hero; It’s Bruce’s fault, I told myself, for not releasing what I wanted, what I needed.

The LPs were not labeled, so I memorized the grooves that bracketed each song; the short passage on side 4 was “Candy’s Room”; the back to back epics on side 2, “Prove it all Night” (with guitar intro) and “Racing in the Street.” The older songs sounded new and the Darkness songs resonated with vintage appeal. There was an earnestness in Bruce’s voice and an urgency in the E Street Band’s playing that had eluded me during my desecrated taping of the show months earlier. I marveled at the pacing and energy; the show was like a high-stakes sporting event with no stoppage in play. The quality was decent - a repressing of a repressing I would learn years later - but the content was extraordinary.

Until the day I brought them to school, the records did not leave my turntable.

“Why do you like this record?” the teacher asked, as “Not Fade Away” segued into “She’s the One.”

Standing before a group was torture for me, so I rehearsed a speech. Life-changing. Awe-inspiring. I wanted my classmates to understand what I felt. But when I looked into their disinterested eyes, my need for approval was replaced with rebellious fortitude. By rejecting Bruce, they were invalidating my convictions. Suddenly, I was no longer shy.

“Well,” I said, looking out at my peers, “ for one thing, it’s illegal to own it, but mostly, because you people don’t get it.” It was like telling them I had robbed a bank, but they would never know what the money was for.

They made their choices and they’ll never know...

I may have missed the Darkness on the Edge of Town tour, but it didn’t miss me. The album, the voice, the notions of what the future held as I literally came of age stand as a demarcation point where Bruce separated from the pack, and so did I.

Lessons learned.

Class dismissed.