Monday, July 27, 2015

Rube Goldberg lives!

 

Although I worked in IT-related jobs for my entire professional life, no one would ever call me a computer geek.  I know a little bit about a lot of different aspects of computers, but I'm not really a master of any of them.  That being said, this post will be just a tad geeky. 

It all started with a fantastic 60th birthday present that I got from Marilynn and the kids: a brand new top-of-the-line HP Spectre x360 laptop.  This thing is loaded, equipped with an Intel i7 dual processor, 8GB of memory, a 256GB Solid State Drive, three USB 3.0 ports, an HDMI port, a touch screen, and a 360 degree hinge that allows it to be used like a tablet.  Absolutely sweet!  PC Magazine agreed, giving it a 4 star "Excellent" rating in their March issue and naming it  "Editors' Choice: midrange convertible-hybrid laptop".   
The Spectre x360... in tablet mode!

I've been playing around with it for about three weeks now, and it's absolutely fantastic ... except for one teeny, tiny, itsy bitsy thing. Besides using it as a laptop and a tablet, I need to be able to use it as a standard desktop as well.  That means hooking it up to a scanner, an external hard drive and, most importantly, a large screen monitor.  Doing all of this was fairly easy, but it caused an unexpected and disastrous anomaly: my WiFi speed plummeted.  In particular, download speed dropped from over 75Mbps to under 2Mbps.  I kid you not. 


As a hack programmer, I've always enjoyed debugging my code.  I know that sounds weird, but I find it fun and oddly satisfying to locate my stupid mistakes and methodically correct them.  That's basically the technique I went through to attack this problem. 

I started with the anti-virus software.  I've been a Norton or McAfee man my entire life, so I was immediately suspicious of the Kaspersky anti-virus software that came with the Spectre.  All of the settings, though, looked fine.  Even completely disabling the software had no effect on WiFi performance.

I then reviewed all of the software that I had recently installed, particularly the freeware.  It was all from reputable organizations, but I uninstalled most of them anyway.  Once again, though, WiFi performance did not improve.

I then turned my attention to the ancient Epson scanner that I had just attached.  The installation had been a little bumpy, requiring a new driver.  I couldn't find a Windows 8.1 driver on the Epson website, so I grabbed the closest one they had:  a 64-bit Windows 7 driver.  The scanner worked fine but I decided to uninstall the applications and detach the scanner.  WiFi performance remained dismal.  

It was now way past lunch time and I needed a break.  Preparing to go downstairs, I disconnected the laptop from the large screen display and, instantaneously, WiFi response rocketed back to the 75Mbps level!  Somehow, using the HDMI port was interfering with WiFi communication!  It didn't make much sense, but at least I had something to google.

During lunch -- and in the space of about 15 minutes -- I found a whole host of possible solutions to my problem.  Some of them were absurd (reinstall Windows) but I found three solutions that seemed worth trying.  

Solution #1:  Change the WiFi Channel used by your wireless router.
Apparently, it's possible for the ambient HDMI signal leaking out of the cable to interfere with the WiFi signal.  Changing the channel, I was advised, might provide some relief.  After spending 15 minutes remembering how to connect to my router, I began by changing the channel from "Auto" to channel 1.  WiFi performance remained horrible.  I then changed it to channel 6 and performance improved a bit.  I then changed it to 11 ("these go to 11") and performance got even better, but still nowhere near where it should be.

I was willing to try anything!
Solution #2:  Wrap the HDMI cord in aluminum foil.  
I know you're thinking about the aluminum foil hats in "Signs" by M. Night Shyamalan, but this suggestion actually seemed to have merit.  I was using a fairly inexpensive HDMI cable and it's entirely possible that its shielding material wasn't the best.  Wrapping the cable wasn't a permanent solution, but it could point to the need for a better cable.  I gave it a try and performance did improve a bit more, but not enough.  

Solution #3:  Don't close your laptop lid.
I laughed out loud when I first saw this solution.  How could this possibly have any bearing on the problem?  Then I read other solutions that said the same thing.  No one provided a reason for why this might solve the problem, but I decided to give it a shot anyway. Amazingly, it worked!  WiFi performance zoomed back to the 75Mbps level!  But I didn't want my laptop wide open while I was using my large screen display so, as shown below, I used a pen to prop open the lid about an inch.  This seems to have done the trick.

Rube would be proud
Postscript: 
In a few days, I should have a more aesthetically pleasing solution in place.  Although the Spectre x360 is loaded, it doesn't come with an Ethernet port.  So I purchased a USB-to-Ethernet adapter from Amazon for about $20.  Ambient HDMI waves will continue to bombard me while I'm in desktop mode, but I won't be using WiFi.  So it should all be good.

Postscript to the Postscript:
Amazon delivery was faster than I thought.  The Startech.com USB-to-Ethernet Adapter arrived late this afternoon.  It took about 2 minutes to install.  As soon as I plugged an Ethernet cable into it, the Spectre automatically switched to it from WiFi.  I then ran Speedtest three different times with the laptop closed and got the following results:


Yep, you're reading that right.  My download speed is now averaging about 126Mbps.  Excuse me for a moment while I consult a thesaurus.  I need a word stronger than "sweet".....
This laptop is now officially stupefying!

Sunday, June 7, 2015

The Worst Song on the Radio Now: Volumes 2 and 3


Volume 1 of this series was published way back in November of 2012 and it's astonishing that an additional five or six volumes haven't already been published.  There are so many bad songs on the radio!  Somehow, though, no song ever seemed to sink quite as low as Die Young by Ke$ha, so I held back.  That was a mistake. Not every bad song needs to be the "LeBron James" of bad songs in order to be honored.  Here are a couple of songs in the "Carmelo Anthony" class.

Volume 2:   Honey I'm Good

Andy Grammar
It usually takes a few listenings before a song starts to bug me, but this one did it on the first try.  Maybe it's because it reminds me of these two all-time horrible songs:

   Thank God I'm a Country Boy by John Denver
   Cotton-Eye Joe by Rednex
 
And then there's the lyrics. At first, I thought, OK, not so bad.  It's a song about a guy staying true to his "baby at home" despite being tempted by the women at the bar.  I still disliked it, but it was palatable fluff. The third or fourth time I heard it though, the lyrics started sounding darker and creepier:

 "I could have another but I probably should not."

The guy doesn't say he won't have another; he says "I probably should not" which means (as anyone who's ever had a few beers knows) that he will have another!  While it's not clear how many drinks this guy has had already, it must have been quite a few:

"It’s been a long night here, and a long night there."

What is clear, though, is that he hasn't been thinking platonic thoughts ...

"And these long, long legs are damn near everywhere!"

... and his thoughts appear to be getting worse:

"And you’ve got that ass, but..."

It's at this point that he straightens up and tells the woman, "You've got me all wrong, baby".  Somehow, though, I doubt very strongly that she has him all wrong.  He's already started to rationalize his position:

"Better men than me have failed, drinking from that unholy grail."

How it eventually will end
In essence, then, here's the picture being painted by this song:  A guy is drinking for hours at a bar while the woman that has "all of his love" is back at home.  Sounds a little dodgy, but, hey, it sometimes happens.  But this guy isn't at a sports bar with the boys watching the big game.  He's drinking heavily at what sounds like a singles bar and checking out the girls, to the point where he compliments the ass of the woman he's talking to!  Suddenly, he snaps to his senses and realizes that if he has just one more drink, "I might not leave alone."

Somebody better have a long talk with his baby at home.  Despite the bouncy music and cutesy refrain, this song is talking about a relationship that is one jack and coke away from disintegration.


Volume 3:  Go Big Or Go Home

American Authors
If you haven't heard this song yet, don't worry.  You will.  It was only released a couple of months ago and hasn't made it into the Billboard Hot 100 yet, but trust me, it'll be there before the month is out.  This band is a case study on how to make it big in the music world today.

They originally formed in 2006 under the name "Blue Pages" and labored in relative obscurity for 5 years, putting out mediocre pop songs such as Run Back Home.  In 2012, though, they went through a complete overhaul, emerging with a new patriotic name, a new market-focus sound (see the "Teen Girl Pop" formula described in Volume 1 of this series) and a smash hit called Best Day of My Life.  It opens with a rudimentary banjo riff (an attempt to attract the Mumford & Sons crowd?) and is simply loaded with repeated syllable hooks to the point of being laughable:
"Oo-oo-oo"
"Wo-o-o-o-o-oh" [x2]
"My li-i-i-ife"
This song is bad, but it isn't quite worthy of the coveted Worst Song on Radio Now award.  Go Big Or Go Home, though, is a tour de force of horribleness. 

It begins with the title.  The phrase "go big or go home" is a marketing slogan from the 1990's that turned into a hackneyed sports cliche years ago.  The fact that American Authors are latching onto it now tells you all you need to know about this band.  

Next, as dictated by the "Teen Girl Pop" formula, the song contains a mandatory repeated syllable hook, in this case, "Go big or go ho-o-o-o-o-me".  It's annoying, to be sure, but it's not enough.  What vaults this song into Worst status is the continuous stream of party-all-night-binge-drinking-live-for-the-moment lyrics that Ke$ha would be proud of.  For starters, there's this:
Giving my body all the things I need
Rescue me with a little whiskey
Staying out, don't need no sleep
I'll sleep when I'm dead; you can bury me
And then there's this:
I guess I'm going home
Cause all my cash is gone
I spent it all trying to feel alive
And finally, this:
Yeah, I got nothing to do tonight
I'm passed out on the floor
Up in the hotel bar
But it don't matter, cause I'm feeling fine
I'm thinking life's too short; it's passing by
So if I'm gonna go at all
Go big or go home
The message of this song is clear:  Life is too short.  You can't let it pass you by.  You need to "go big", and the best way to "go big" is to stay out all night, spend all of your money drinking whiskey until you pass out, and then get up and do it again and again.  And you can do this because you "don't need no sleep" which, as a double negative, is the only helpful (albeit unintentional) advice in the entire song.
Thanks, John...

Pretty crappy song, right?  Who in their right mind would want this to be their theme song?   The National Basketball Association, that's who!! For the last few months it has been featured in their NBA Playoff Promotions videos.  I wonder if John Abbamondi, Senior Vice President of Marketing for the NBA, listened to the lyrics of this song even once?

Tuesday, June 2, 2015

Farewell to Vin Scelsa and "Idiot's Delight"


I had a bittersweet "all things must pass" feeling this past weekend when I learned that Vin Scelsa had retired from broadcast radio on May 2.  Although that day had to come, it still came as a shock.  While I hadn't been listening to Vin with the same regularity as I had in year's past, I still downloaded a recorded version of his show every now and then in order to get my Vin-fix.  

WNEW DJ's in the 70's
I first became aware of Vin in the mid-70's, occasionally listening to his WNEW show on Sunday mornings.  I became an avid follower, though, in the mid-80's when his show moved to WXRK (K-Rock) and became known as "Idiot's Delight".   His show aired at 8pm on Sunday night and was scheduled to end at 2am, but when it would actually end was anyone's guess.  Since I had to get up and work on Monday mornings, I decided to invest in a dual cassette deck so that I could tape the last three hours of the show (I still rarely caught the end).  I listened to these tapes throughout the week while driving to and from work, noting the locations on the tape that contained particularly interesting songs.  When I got home, I copied these songs to a "Best of Vin" tape.  I did this for almost 12 years, resulting in 25 "Best of Vin" tapes and hundreds of excellent songs. 

It's difficult to describe "Idiot's Delight" to someone who has never actually listened to the program, but I'll try. First and foremost, of course, was the music. It was a "free form" program, meaning that Vin was not constrained by a station-dictated playlist.  He could play anything that he wanted: new music, old music, opera, country, rag time, Broadway show tunes, big band music, zydeco, world music.  I think you get the picture.  One thing about his program was certain:  you would hear at least one song each week that you would never hear anywhere else.  

If Vin really liked a new song, he might play it 2 or 3 times in a row. If a song had been covered by multiple artists, he might play a half-dozen of those covers in a row.  WXRK was a commercial radio station, so Vin was required to play commercials; but those commercials didn't have to come at a specific time.  As such, there were times that a set of music went on for 20-30 minutes without interruption.  Occasionally, Vin would apologize to the audience for the length of a set, saying that he had planned on ending it sooner but it just wouldn't stop, as though the set had a mind of its own. Within a set, Vin was the master of the segue and the audience played along, trying to figure out how a particular song related to the prior or (even more fun) trying to guess the song that was coming next.  

Larry Kirwan of Black 47 with Vin
As valuable as the music was, "Idiot's Delight" was much more than that.  If something of importance happened in the world, you wanted to hear Vin's take on it.  Whether it dealt with politics, religion, entertainment, current events or the death of a cultural icon, Vin's viewpoint was always worth listening to. These monologs sometimes went on for 15 minutes or more and were usually laced with his iconic and infectious laugh.  If you didn't like hearing Vin laugh, well, you couldn't be a fan of the show.  You also tuned in to hear Vin's  interviews.  If the guest was a musician, there would almost always be live music.  If the guest was an author, either Vin or the author would read a few passages from the author's new book. 

Vin put everything he had into his program;  he held nothing back.  When he was happy, we knew it.  When he was sad or depressed -- which happened from time to time -- we knew that as well.  He called himself the "Bayonne Butch" and the "Bayonne Bear" We knew his wife's name (Freddie) and listened to stories about his daughter, Kate, as she grew up.  All of this created an extremely loyal fan base that followed him from radio station to radio station.  That fan base became mobilized in the mid-90's thanks to an email-driven newsgroup called "The Idiot's Delight Digest" (IDD).  While the original digest no longer exists, the IDD continues to this day, having morphed into a Yahoo Group and a Facebook page. There is also a fan site called Vin!dication that contains a partial archives of Vin's shows, including one that dates back to 1976.  Such is the devotion that Vin inspired.  

While there may be a DJ somewhere in the world doing a show similar to "Idiot's Delight" I've yet to find it, either on the radio or on the Internet.  I have a feeling that I'll be downloading archived shows from Vin!dication for years to come.

Adios compañero ...


Happy feet - Paolo Conte
Prairie Town - Randy Bachman
Witchitai-to - Jim Pepper
Some Kinda Fatigue - Yo La Tengo
The Modern Dance - Pere Ubu
Fell off the Floor Man - dEUS
How Can We Hang On To A Dream - Tim Hardin
Complainte pour Ste Catherine - The McGarrigles
O Superman - Laurie Anderson
Nobody Cares About The Railroad Anymore - Harry Nilsson
A House Is Not A Motel - Love
Tarantella - Lounge Lizards
Everybody Knows - Leonard Cohen
Chase the Wind - Jimmie Dale Gilmore
Zack Attack Rap - Zachary Richard
Rhythm King - Luna
I Ain't Lyin' - The Skeletons
Badi-Da - Mark Lanegan
Honi Soit - John Cale
Nomads - High Llamas
I Love the Unknown - Clem Snide
Lorenz and Watson - Ryuichi Sakamoto
Just One Kiss - Beau Jocque
I Radio Heaven - Over the Rhine
Better Back Off - Marshall Crenshaw
Black Slacks - Robert Gordon
My Monkey Made a Man Out of Me - Candy Butchers
Toxic Girl - Kings of Convenience
Alleged - Beta Band
Parallel or Together - Ted Leo and the Pharmacists
Nitro - Dick Dale
My Favorite Kiss - Frank Black
Hello In There - John Prine
It's The Little Things - Robert Earl Keen
If I Had Known - Greg Brown
Love Is All Around - REM
Azalea Festival - John and Mary
King of Beers - Too Much Joy
Hey Nonny Nonny - Violent Femmes
Walking Down Madison - Kirsty MacColl
Take A Look At My Heart - John Prine and Bruce Springsteen
Cafe Memphis - Willie Nile
Fallen - Philip Rambow
This Town Ain't Big Enough - Sparks
Burning Flies - Looper
City Drops into the Night - Jim Carroll Band
I Hate My Freakin' ISP - Todd Rundgren
Drink Too Much - Tom Clark and the High Action Boys
When Panthers Roamed in Arkansas - Kate Campbell
Funky Ceili - Black 47


Further Reading:

http://www.newyorker.com/culture/culture-desk/vin-scelsa-leaves-the-airwaves
http://www.wnyc.org/story/there-goes-last-dj/
http://www.nytimes.com/1994/03/13/style/airwaves-delight.html
http://www.robynpforrryan.com/uploads/2/0/5/3/20534754/vincescelsa.pdf

Vin Scelsa Idiot's Delight - Non Official Documentary

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=btr7YZBcOc4












Friday, January 30, 2015

One Tough Marine


The Mullen household in the mid to late 60's was, to put it mildly, chaotic.  To begin with, there were 8 kids running around the house, four of whom were strong-willed teenagers. Occasionally, we also had our grandmother living with us, a woman who seemed to have been ill for most of her adult life. Mom did her best to keep the house running, but she was also the principal breadwinner of the family, working the third shift as a nurse at St. Francis Hospital.  

And then there was Dad.  In 1965, at the age of 42 and with a wife and 8 children, Dad decided to resign from a decent paying full-time job at IBM.  He borrowed $5,000 and purchased a woodworking business in Poughkeepsie, NY, from Wilbur Wise.  He did this despite the following facts:
  • He had no particular knowledge of the woodworking business;
  • He had no training in either Finance or Business;
  • He was already in debt, having purchased a home on January 15, 1964, in an excellent area of Poughkeepsie.
Why would Dad take a gigantic risk like this?  Because he suffered from a genetic disease that is now called Bipolar Disorder.  What's worse, he was also an alcoholic.  Below is an excerpt from a 2002 study by the National Institute of Health entitled Bipolar Disorder and Alcoholism which describes the inter-relationship of the two:
"... symptoms of bipolar disorder may emerge during the course of chronic alcohol intoxication or withdrawal. For example, alcohol withdrawal may trigger bipolar symptoms. Still other studies have suggested that people with bipolar disorder may use alcohol during manic episodes in an attempt at self–medication, either to prolong their pleasurable state or to sedate the agitation of mania. Finally, other researchers have suggested that alcohol use and withdrawal may affect the same brain chemicals (i.e., neurotransmitters) involved in bipolar illness, thereby allowing one disorder to change the clinical course of the other. In other words, alcohol use or withdrawal may "prompt" bipolar disorder symptoms (Tohen et al. 1998). It remains unclear which if any of these potential mechanisms is responsible for the strong association between alcoholism and bipolar disorder. It is very likely that this relationship is not simply a reflection of cause and effect but rather that it is complex and bidirectional."
Hudson River State Hospital
Dad ended up selling the woodworking business back to Mr. Wise in 1968.  By then, he had been diagnosed with manic depression (as it was known back then) and forced to spend time in Hudson River State Hospital, a psychiatric hospital built in 1873.  I remember little of Dad's time in that institution, only that it was a scary place and that Dad always left there a shell of what he had been prior to entering. This was almost certainly due to psychotropic drugs and the liberal use of shock therapy.  In retrospect, it's hard to decide which condition was worse:  the manic/depressive Dad or the semi-catatonic Dad.  The semi-catatonic Dad was heartbreaking to see while the manic/depressive Dad -- dangerous, unpredictable, drunk, and ornery -- still had flashes of the man that he had been.  

Dad unsuccessfully battled both diseases until his death in 1988 from complications caused by liver failure.  He was 64.  One other thing to keep in mind as you read further: the estimated average age for the onset of bipolar disorder is the early 20's.

The Marine we never knew

When Dad was at his most manic alcohol was always involved, and he was an ornery alcoholic: verbally abusive, intimidating,  always threatening physical violence but rarely resorting to it.  For the most part, the damage he inflicted was psychological and emotional, but since we knew Dad had thrown a punch at Father Kenny (another hot-headed Irishman) we knew that he was capable of following through on his threats. His verbal harassment would occasionally take unintended comic turns.  It was always amusing to be called "a blithering idiot". And when he started riffing on the importance of paying attention to a point he was making by saying: "I want you to know it, understand it, comprehend it, realize it, ... etc.", you simply had to smile.  But you sure as hell made sure to hide that smile!  You knew that Dad was past reasoning with when he called himself "one tough Marine".  All of his sons knew not to challenge him at that point and to have an escape route planned, either using the back stairs in the kitchen or heading out the porch window in the TV room.

While we knew that Dad was "one tough Marine", that's about all we knew as kids.  Dad didn't talk about his time in the Corps at all.  It was only after he died that I began to learn isolated facts about his time in the military from his siblings.  I learned that he was a tail gunner and that he actually saw action in the war overseas.  Through my cousin, Danny Sears, I came in possession of Dad's dog-tags.  But most important, I learned that Dad received a dishonorable discharge of some sort.  None of his siblings could tell me exactly why Dad had been dishonorably discharged.  The best they could remember was that it had something to do with a stolen watch.  In 2005, I wrote away to the National Personnel Records Center and asked for information related to my father's discharge.  In response, I was sent a one-page document labeled Report of Separation that stated only that he had separated from the military on January 19, 1946, with a "bad conduct discharge".  While that didn't shed any new light, it did confirm that Dad had, indeed, been less than honorably discharged from the Marines.  At the time that was enough.  I filed the paper away and thought no more about it.

In late 2014 my sister, Annie, started badgering me to learn more about Dad's discharge.  Since I had recently retired from my job at Bristol-Myers Squibb and had begun dabbling in genealogy, Annie figured that I had "all the time in the world" to determine why Dad had received a Bad Conduct Discharge (BCD).  In this isolated instance, Annie was absolutely correct.

After a few hours of research on the web, I learned that I could petition the National Personnel Records Center for Dad's entire Official Military Personnel File.  The paperwork was minimal and it didn't cost much, but it took over three months for his file to arrive.  When I finally read through it, though, it painted a picture of a man who might very well have been "one tough Marine".  

The Marine he was

On April 29, 1942, at the age of 18, Dad submitted an application to enlist into the Marine Corps for a four year term.  He would last only three and a half years but, from the looks of his service record, his first two years showed promise:
  • May 11, 1942: Placed into Active Duty; ordered to report to the Marine Corps Recruit Depot  in Parris Island, SC.  
  • November 5, 1942:  Promoted to Private 1st Class.
  • April 7, 1943: Promoted to Corporal
  • January, 1944:  Attended Radio-Gunnery school for 10 weeks in El Centro, California  
  • January 20, 1944: Transferred as a Radio-Gunner to Marine Scouting Bombing Squadron 132 (VMSB-132) in El Toro Air Station, Santa Ana, CA;
  • February, 1944: Completed 2 week Operational Radar Training at Fleet Air Marine Corps Radar School in Santa Ana, CA.
But on April 10, 1944, Dad was involved in an incident that would mark the beginning of a downward slide.  According to his Service Record, he was charged with the following:
"Disobedience of the lawful order of his commanding officer."
His personnel file does not contain an official explanation on what the exact order was or how Dad disobeyed that order but, in a letter to the Navy, Dad described the incident in this manner:
"This incident was the discharging of a machine gun.  I had noticed the feed of my machine gun to be out of aline so I charged it to test the proper feeding of ammunition.  Due to the conditions under which I was operating, I neglected to clear and the gun discharged accidentally.  The gun was later proven to be defective."
Whether this is an accurate transcription of the event will never be known.  What is known is that Dad was found guilty by a Deck Court-Martial (DM) on April 14, 1944.  He was reduced in rank to Private 1st Class and had to perform 30 days of extra police duties (EPD).  Note that, in 1944, a Deck Court-Martial was an informal procedure used to judge minor offenses.  They were held with just one officer present, the Deck Officer (i.e., the officer on watch) who also represented the Captain. The results of these trials were rarely granted an appeal.   

On April 29, 1944, Dad was in trouble again.  This time, he was brought before a Summary Courts Martial (SCM), a more formal body consisting of three officers that handled offenses of a more serious nature.  Dad was charged with the following:
"Did on or about 29 April, 1944, wilfully take and use an automobile namely a Ford convertible coupe, the property of Norman LaBudda of Santa Ana, California, without the permission of the said owner, and in the absence of the said owner or his representative, and did proceed to use and transport himself in and about the city of Santa Ana, California, and the vicinity thereof."
On May 17, 1944, the SCM found Dad guilty.  Dad admitted to the incident in a letter to the Navy, stating:
"At this time I was charged with stealing an automobile.  I was on authorized liberty with a buddy at the time.  We had been drinking and in mischief, with no intent of malice, did appropriate a car not belonging to us or any one known to us.  My buddy was driving and we were involved in an accident the financial extent of which was $600.00 which my buddy and I paid in equal shares.  The incident was settled to the satisfaction of the car owner but we were later given a summary court with a resultant 30 day confinement and 90 day EPD."
Note that $600 was a hell of a lot of money back then, comparable to approximately $8,000 today.  There's no indication of where Dad got the money to settle that debt but, after almost two years of service without a blemish, he now had accumulated two disciplinary marks on his record in less than three weeks.  Note that one had occurred while under the influence of alcohol. 

After these two incidents, Dad's participation in the war effort intensified.  He was sent overseas into a combat zone in the Pacific (Micronesia) and his record remained clear until the end of the war.  Here are some relevant excerpts from his Service Record:
    USS Isabel
  • May 1, 1944:  Awarded the classification of Radio-Gunner (757F) 
  • September, 1944:  Joined Marine Air Group 45 (MAG-45)  .
  • October 14, 1944:  Joined Torpedo Bombing Squad 132
  • November 4, 1944:  Joined Wing Service Squad 1
  • November 22, 1944:  Sent into the field via the USS Santa Isabel; joined the 4th Marine Aircraft Wing (MAW); deployed to Ulithi Atoll in Micronesia
  • Ulithi Atoll
  • December 18, 1944:  Member of Scout Bombing Squad 245 (VSMB-245).  This appears to be the only aircraft squad in which Dad flew combat missions.  As far as I can tell, Dad would have been the tail gunner of a Dauntless SBD-5 Bomber, operating a M1919 Browning machine gun.
  • December 31, 1944:  Semi-annual Performance and Conduct Review;  received Good to Excellent marks with perfect scores for Obedience and Sobriety.
  • Dauntless SBD-5 Bomber
  • May 19, 1945 - September 30, 1945:  Per a note in his file from his Commanding Officer, J.E. Bell:  "Served as a regularly assigned crew member of combatant aircraft assigned to this squadron since 19 May 1945.  Participated in combat operations in the Western Carolines Area from 19 May 1945 to 30 September 1945."  
  • June 30, 1945:  Semi-annual Performance and Conduct Review;  received Good to Excellent marks with perfect scores for Obedience and Sobriety.
Because of his combat service, Dad earned the following awards:
American Campaign Ribbon: Awarded for service within the American Theater between December 7, 1941 and March 2, 1946.

Asiatic Pacific Ribbon: Awarded for service within the Asiatic Pacific Theater (Alaska, Hawaii, Philippines, Australia, New Zealand, and all of Asia) between December 7, 1941 and March 2, 1946.
Aircrew Insignia with 3 stars: Awarded to enlisted aircrew members who flew in combat; each gold star represented a combat mission.

World War II Victory Medal: Awarded to W.W. II military personnel.
Dad's service record and discharge papers also indicate that he was a "rifle marksman" and a "pistol sharpshooter".

The Marine's Fall
On August 15, 1945, the Japanese surrendered.  The war may have been over, but Dad's war with the military had just begun.  On September 26, 1945, Dad was tried and convicted by a Summary Courts Martial of the following offenses:
(1)  Attempted Fraud
(2)  Impersonating a superior officer
He was reduced to the rank of Private and given a Bad Conduct Discharge (BCD).  Dad provided the following explanation for his actions in a letter to the Navy:
"At this time I secured a watch at Ulithi Atoll.  I was in a flight crew and had never been issued a watch which I needed.  There had been general appropriation of needed articles, though unofficial, and I signed as a S/Sgt in order to secure a watch."
The watch in question was valued at approximately $13.  Today, that would translate into about $175.  His career in the military officially ended as follows:
  • September 28, 1945:  Rank reduced to Private. 
  • September 30, 1945:  Flight orders revoked.
  • October 1-28, 1945:  Awaiting transfer from Ulithi Atoll to the US (possibly confined in prison)
  • October 29, 1945:  Transported by the USS Zeilin from Ulithi Atoll
  • November 17, 1945:  Arrived in San Diego, California
  • November 29, 1945:  Assigned to various  Air Casualty Squads in San Diego
  • January 8-11, 1946:  Confined in military prison in San Diego, awaiting BCD
  • January 19, 1946:  Officially separated from the military.
Dad went down fighting though.  On January 16, 1946, he petitioned the Navy to review his Bad Conduct Discharge.  His letter can be found here along with a number of fairly impressive endorsements.  He obtained counsel and appeared before the Washington Headquarters of the American Legion in an attempt to upgrade the BCD.  On November 21, 1946, the Board of Review, Discharges and Dismissals, Navy Department, reviewed Dad's case.  On December 6, 1946, they concluded:
"The Board concludes that the petitioner's discharge is proper under reasonable standards of Naval Law and Discipline.  Petitioner was convicted by a SCM on 19 Sept 1945 for attempted fraud and impersonating a superior officer.  In order to enable him to procure a wrist watch he had misrepresented himself as one "Staff Sergeant Joseph J. H. Hueghs", a fictitious person and forged this name on a quartermaster memorandum receipt.  To enable him to misrepresent himself, he wore the insignia of a Staff Sergeant.  In view of the seriousness of the offense, it is the opinion of the Board that petitioner's discharge is proper."
It's interesting that Dad used a pseudonym of "Joseph Hueghs" in his caper.  That name was very close to that of his uncle, John F. Hugues, who was a chaplain and a Captain in the Navy at that time.

Though down, Dad was not yet out.  He had one final card to play. On July 15, 1946, he persuaded his congressman, the Honorable Hugh D. Scott, to write a personal letter to the U.S. Marine Corps in his behalf.  The letter, addressed to General Clifton B. Cates, Commandant, USMC, stated:
Rep. Hugh D. Scott
"If there is any possible way by which this matter can properly receive further consideration it will be much appreciated.  I have read the statement filed by Major Winston E. Jewson USMCR, under date of 20, March 1946, as well as a statement by 1st Lt. Orlo E. Stokoe, USMCR, of 26 March 1946, and am of the opinion they outline sufficient reason for more favorable action."
On July 15, 1946, Brigadier General R.R. Pepper responded for Commandant Cates as follows:
"Mr. Mullen's case was thoroughly reviewed by the Board of Review, Discharges and Dismissals on 21 November 1946, at which time the statements of Major Jewson and Lieutenant Stokoe were taken into consideration.  The board concluded that the bad conduct discharge awarded Mr. Mullen was proper under reasonable standards of Naval law and discipline and rendered decision that no change, correction or modification should be made.  .... I regret, in view of your interest, that further action is impracticable unless additional evidence can be submitted to substantiate a reopening of his case."
Having exhausted every reasonable avenue, Dad accepted his fate.  His Military Personnel File shows no further attempts to clear his record. In October of 1959 he applied for a job at IBM in Poughkeepsie and freely admitted to IBM Personnel that he had received a less than honorable discharge.   After Dad authorized the Marines to release to IBM "any or all information pertaining to my discharge", the Chief Warrant Officer of the Marines sent an email to IBM which stated briefly:
"Thomas Patrick Mullen ... was convicted by a summary court martial, approved 26 September 1945, for attempted fraud and impersonating a superior officer.  He was sentenced to be discharged from the U.S.Naval Service with a bad conduct discharge."
Satisfied that this incident in the life of a 22 year old Marine had no bearing on the job being offered, IBM hired Dad. 

A Futile Legal Struggle

During Dad's tenure in the Marines, discipline was governed by the Articles for the Government of the Navy, a collection of regulations that hadn't changed much since the 19th century.  To give you an idea of what Dad was up against, here's an excerpt from Article 4 of that code:
 "The punishment of death, or such other punishment as a court martial may adjudge, may be inflicted on any person in the naval service who ... disobeys the lawful orders of his superior officers"
In light of this, Dad may have gotten off easy!  Under intense pressure to modernize these regulations, the Uniform Code of Military Justice (UCMJ) was signed into law by President Truman in 1951.  The passage below (taken from a 2004 article in the Military Law Review) sheds some light on how the Navy used -- and possibly abused -- the courts-martial system during World War II:
First enacted in 1951, the UCMJ consolidated and revised the existing laws governing the separate branches of the service (the Articles of War (AOW) and the Articles for the Government of the Navy) into one standard code. These systems of justice were similar in many ways.  Both allowed for non-judicial punishment of enlisted service members, and for three levels of courts-martial, roughly equivalent to the three levels set out in the current UCMJ.  In the Navy, the three levels included the deck court-martial, the summary court-martial, and the general court-martial.  The Army had a summary court-martial, a special court-martial, and a general court-martial.
The most significant difference between the two systems was that the punishment at a Navy summary court-martial could include a BCD.  Up until 1948, the AOW had no such discharge; the only discharges Army courts-martial could adjudge were dismissals for officers and Dishonorable Discharges (DD) for enlisted members.21 The Navy’s pre-UCMJ BCD was not, however, considered serious punishment.  Although authorized as part of a court-martial sentence, the BCD was akin to the administrative discharges used today.  No apparent stigma attached to such a discharge.  The Navy separated thousands of sailors with BCDs during World War II (WWII) with no procedure for judicial appellate review.
Before enactment of the UCMJ, both the Naval and Army justice systems were seriously flawed.  The systems were intended to secure obedience and to ensure Soldiers and Sailors served the commander’s will.  Although both systems provided for courts-martial, the courts looked nothing like today’s courts. Courts-martial were merely a tool of the commander to carry out his intentions regarding discipline.  There was little, if any, relation to civilian criminal justice. Protecting the rights of the individual was not a primary purpose of the system.  As a result, great injustices were done in the name of discipline.
During WWII, over sixteen million men and women served in the armed forces. Commanders conducted over 2,000,000 courts-martial, resulting in many hundreds of thousands of convictions and stiff sentences.  After the war, individuals and institutions lobbied Congress for changes to the system, highlighting its flaws—defense counsel (DC) were not lawyers, law officers who presided over trials were not lawyers, sentences were unable to be revised and trial mistakes could not be corrected.  Some of the longstanding complaints were expressed to TJAG of the Army, Major General Crowder, in a letter from the Secretary of War following WWI.  In response to these criticisms, Congress, in 1947, attempted its first large-scale effort to reform the military justice system.
Based on this analysis, Dad's appeal in 1946 didn't stand a chance.  Curiously, the above analysis states that there was "no apparent stigma" attached to a BCD back then.  While Dad was able to obtain a good job with a major corporation, his BCD undoubtedly left him with a lifelong emotional scar.  It also prevented him from obtaining veteran benefits and from holding any type of job within the government.

Wrapping It Up

Like most soldiers of his time (or probably any time), Dad enjoyed an alcoholic beverage or two while off-duty or on liberty.  But there is no evidence to indicate that he was an alcoholic at that time. In fact, there is evidence to the contrary.  Dad received semi-annual Performance and Conduct Reviews throughout his military career and always received a mark of "Excellent" (5) for Sobriety. Whether or not he was in the grip of bipolar disorder at that time is a tougher question.  My own feeling is that he was, based upon the following (admittedly tenuous) logic:
  1. Dad was positively diagnosed with bipolar disorder in his early 40's.  The medical establishment now believes that the estimated average age for the onset of this disease is the early 20's.  Dad's first disciplinary incident with the military occurred when he was almost 21.
  2. Manic episodes are often accompanied by or intensified by alcohol.  Dad's second disciplinary incident with the military occurred while he, in his own words, "had been drinking and in mischief".
  3. Stress caused by drastic or sudden life changes, even positive ones, can trigger a manic episode.  Dad's third, and most bizarre, disciplinary incident occurred at probably the highest and most active point of his military career.  He was stationed at Ulithi Atoll, a combat zone in the Pacific, and participated on regular bombing missions as a tail gunner.  His performance on these missions was seen as exemplary.  He had recently received a good semi-annual Performance and Conduct Review.  Dad probably thought he was invincible.  
Cadet Mess Hall, West Point
I'll finally end this requiem with an experience that I had with Dad back in 1966 or 1967. Although I didn't know it at the time, Dad was solidly in the grip of bipolar disorder.

My brother, Tom, and I were on a tour of West Point with the Boy Scouts. We traveled there from Poughkeepsie in a bus with the other scouts and Dad met us there, driving down to the Academy in a car by himself. As we prepared to board the bus at the end of the tour, Dad asked Tom and me if we wanted to drive back home with him. Tom declined but I said yes, knowing that it would please him. After the bus left, Dad decided to reward me by taking me on his own personal tour. We walked around West Point for a few more hours, watched part of an Army football game, and stopped at a carnival on the way home.  It was probably the  greatest day I ever had with my father.  After walking around West Point for a bit, Dad announced that it was time for dinner and guided me to the famous Cadet Mess Hall. Once inside, we encountered a receptionist seated by a sign clearly stating that the Cadet Mess was available only to cadets and their official guests.  Dad didn't miss a beat.  He strolled up to the receptionist and said, "Excuse me, we're here to see Cadet Mullen.  When he shows, please tell him we're inside waiting for him."  And, with that, we walked inside.  While eating dinner we heard the receptionist repeatedly paging "Cadet Mullen" over the loudspeaker and had a good laugh. Today, though, I see that incident through a much different lens. At West Point, Dad had  undoubtedly been in the middle of a manic episode.  He wanted something and he wasn't going to let a damn fool military regulation stand in his way, even if he had to impersonate someone in order to get it.  In 1945, he wanted a watch.  In 1967, he just wanted to eat dinner. 

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Monday, January 12, 2015

Mullen Christmas -- January 3, 2015

 Every year I'm constantly asked the same question:
"So when, exactly, is Mullen Christmas this year?"
And every year I say the same thing:
"By tradition, Mullen Christmas is always on Saturday at 2pm in the first full weekend after New Year's Day." 
Since Friday is part of the weekend (at least in my book) that means that the earliest that Mullen Christmas can possibly be is on January 3, which is what happened this year.  To prove the historical accuracy of this "tradition", I did a little research, beginning with one of the most memorable Mullen Christmas parties ever held:  the 1997 party at Aunt Pat and Uncle Harry's.

I remember that party like it was yesterday.  Actually, I don't remember too many of the attendees, I have no idea what I ate, and I think I drank some beer, but I can't be sure.  What I do remember, though, is that the New York Football Giants played the Minnesota Vikings in an NFL playoff game.  I have long forgotten the details about many, many playoff games, but the details of that particular game will never fade.  The Giants thoroughly dominated the first half and were cruising to an easy victory.  With less than 4 minutes left in the game, they were up by 9 points and had just forced Minnesota to punt.  The game was, as they say, in the bag.  But in a stunning collapse -- from a franchise that has turned collapsing into an art form -- the Giants ended up losing the game.  But what makes this game so gruesomely memorable is one specific detail.  The Giants' arch-rival, the Philadelphia Eagles, had a truly horrible team in 1997, finishing with a meager 6 wins.  Even so, they managed to stretch a hand from the grave.  Their ex-quarterback, Randall Cunningham, was Minnesota's starting quarterback that day, and he led his team to two amazing scores in the last 90 seconds to defeat the Giants 23-22.


Since there is absolutely no doubt that Mullen Christmas occurred during that game, I looked it up on Wikipedia to confirm that it occurred post-New Years.  It did not.  Wikipedia (which, like the Encyclopedia Galactica, is the source of all knowledge) clearly states that the game was held on December 27, 1997.  Ever nimble, I have updated the answer to the Mullen Christmas question as follows:
"In the modern era, Mullen Christmas is always on Saturday at 2pm in the first full weekend after New Year's Day."
Before leaving the subject of historical  ignorance, let me state that, although Marilynn and I have hosted the Mullen Christmas parties for many years, I cannot answer any of the following questions with absolute certainty:
  1. When did Aunt Mary and Uncle Nick first begin the tradition of a post-Christmas Mullen Family party?
  2. Was there ever a post-Christmas party while Grandmom and PopPop were alive?  If so, did they attend?
  3. What was the last year that Aunt Mary and Uncle Nick hosted the party?
  4. What was the first year that Marilynn and I hosted the party? 
  5. Who (besides Aunt Mary & Uncle Nick and Marilynn & I) have ever hosted a Mullen Christmas party?
If you know the answers to any of these questions, leave them as comments to this post so that all can see.  Enough of history ... on to a recap of this year's party!

The 2015 Mullen Christmas party was truly one for the ages.  According to Mike Mullen, the Chief Statistician, there were a total of 80 attendees!

The official tally

Somehow, everyone managed to avoid a parking ticket and find a parking spot within a reasonable distance of the house.  The Chief Statistician has also pointed out that if other attendees from year's past had been able to attend this year's party (e.g., Tara), we conceivably could have had 113 attendees!  If that day ever comes, I'll have to reinforce the kitchen floor.

Besides the sheer volume of bodies, there were other things of note:
  • The Connecticut Mullens in attendance!  After an extended absence, the Connecticut Mullens were once again represented at Mullen Christmas as Maryann and Eileen (along with Eileen's significant other, Steve) drove down for the festivities.  This prompted a lively debate as to how long, exactly, it had been since their last visit.  Sharon and Mark were convinced that it was no more than 5 years ago.  Eileen and Maryann were pretty sure that it was more like 8 or 9 years ago.  As it turns out, the Connecticut Mullens made their last an appearance in 2005, exactly 10 years ago (proof here).  While we never got a chance to see Steve demonstrate his party trick of deadlifting an economy car, everyone got a chance to look at some excellent old photos of Grandmom and Pop Pop that Eileen brought with her (sample below). 
Who knew Kevin was a dead ringer for Pop Pop?
  • Pete Notarfrancesco drinking shots!  A year and a half ago or so, Pete spent some time at a place called the Balkan Camp in the Catskills.  I've seen some videos and read an article or two about it, but it's hard to describe exactly what it is.  Let's just say that it's advertised as "Balkan music, dance and singing classes during the day, Balkan-style partying during the night."  It was at this locale that Pete became acquainted with a beverage called Slivovitz.  For months he had been threatening to bring some to Mullen Christmas.  Well, he did just that and, for the first time in my life, I ended up drinking shots (2) with Pete.  The Slivovitz wasn't bad but the Aquavit which he also brought was obviously intended for a different breed of human.  After drinking a shot I had to quickly down a beer in order to restore my esophagus to working order.  If you missed out on this event, fear not.  We didn't finish the bottles.  I have a feeling there will be a reprise next year!

  • The British are coming!  The British are coming!  In a manner not unlike Paul Revere's ride in 1775, this year's Mullen Christmas attendees were given ample warning of the impending arrival of Her Majesty's forces.  Not owning a fast horse, I opted to use Facebook and Gmail instead.  Despite the warning, though, the party was clearly unprepared for the onslaught.  The Davieses (Hannah, Huw, Eli, and Rory Macqueen) came with their own music (a three hour playlist); they came with figgy pudding (which they set on fire with Slivovitz); they came with Christmas Crackers (forcing us to wear silly paper hats); and they came armed with Twiglets, the only known substance that actually makes Aquavit taste good by comparison.  While their were only four of them it seemed as if they were everywhere.  One can only imagine the pandemonium if John and Máire Davies had been able to attend the party as well.  Well, there's always next year!
  • The Miracle of the Food and Drink!  While most people think that this particular miracle only works with loaves, fishes, and wine, it clearly works on other substances as well.  For the first time in recent Mullen Christmas memory, we neither ran out of food nor had to make an emergency alcohol run.  When one dish of food was finished another one magically appeared in its place. There was ziti, lasagna, swedish meatballs, roast beef, meatballs and sausages, little hot dogs, vegetables/dip, salad, rolls, and a bunch of other dishes that I never even saw.  And that's not counting the appetizers and all of the desserts.  Regarding alcohol, while we did drink the Mullen's Irish Cream, a bottle of Jameson, a bottle and a half of Bushmills, a half a bottle of Slivovitz 3 bowls of punch, about 4 cases of beer and countless bottles of wine, there was still alcohol left at 12:30am when the last of the stragglers went to bed.  I don't know who prayed to what Saint, but thank you for doing so.
  • Oh, the weather inside was frightful!  Snow flurries, sleet, and freezing rain fell most of the day, having a significant impact on the party.  While it had no effect whatsoever on turnout, it caused the football crowd in the TV room to go into a fireplace-stoking frenzy!  At the height of the party the temperature in the TV room peaked at around 90 degrees, causing Brian Mullen, Dennis Erskine and I to escape to the screened in porch to grab an ice-cold beer and cool off.  Even the kitchen, warmed only by the ambient heat from the TV room must have hit 80 degrees.
A tad over-jostled

In Closing ...

In year’s gone by, there were a variety of ways that I got a chance to see my aunts, uncles and cousins.  When I was a lot younger, there were visits to Grandmom and Pop Pop’s and the occasional family gathering at the shore.  As I got older, there were all of the cousin weddings and, for a few fantastic years, the annual Mullen Cousins Picnic and Camp Out at Joe Benco’s house, complete with a bonfire and “Mullen of the Year” plaques!  As everyone’s nuclear family has grown, though, the opportunity for all of us to get together has almost vanished.  As much as you might want to, you simply can’t invite everyone to a shore house for a weekend or to the wedding of a cousin-once-removed.  What we have managed to hold onto, though, is Mullen Christmas.  Yes, it’s loud and it’s crowded, and it's almost impossible to have an in-depth conversation with anyone, but I wouldn’t miss it for the world.  It gives me a chance, however fleeting, to connect with everyone again, even the next generation (damn, has Drew gotten tall!!)  It’s one of the main reasons that I continue to hang onto my house in Cranbury.  So, even though Mullen Christmas just ended, I’m looking forward to seeing everyone again next year.   And this time I don’t even need to tell you when it is.  



Sunday, June 22, 2014

Dave & Stacey's Wedding


I’ve never put together a “bucket list” but, if I did, attending a traditional Indian wedding would be high on that list.  There’s something incredibly appealing to me about a wedding celebration that lasts a minimum of three days.   In that vein, let me announce that my son, David Mullen, married Stacey Erskine on Friday, June 6, 2014, at the Maplewood Country Club in Maplewood, New Jersey.  It was the union of two Irish-American families and the celebration was quintessentially American but, with festivities spanning three days, it's probably the closest I'll ever get to an Indian wedding!

Day 1:  Thursday, June 5th: The Rehearsal Dinner   

The rehearsal dinner is a staple of American weddings.  It’s usually a fairly sedate affair, taking place immediately after the wedding rehearsal.   Dave and Stacey’s rehearsal dinner was a tad different.  To begin with, it happened before the rehearsal at an unassuming restaurant called LouCás.  Located in a strip mall in Edison, New Jersey, it is the embodiment of the phrase “Don’t judge a book by its cover”.  The interior was absolutely beautiful, the service was superb, and the food was excellent.  After a fantastic dinner (and a half dozen bottles of wine) the wedding party was relaxed and ready to rehearse.

(Click all photos to enlarge)
The actual rehearsal took place in an alley next to the restaurant.  I kid you not.  Click on the photo on the left.  See that arrow?  On the evening of June 5, 2014, that arrow would have been pointing directly at us.  Throughout the rehearsal, the celebrant performing the wedding – a guy I thought bore a distinct resemblance to Dustin Hoffman – was constantly making wisecracks.  As a result, no one, not even the bride and groom, was even the slightest bit nervous.  Again, the wine helped.

Afterwards, Dave and Andy (the best man) came back to Cranbury to spend the night.  We had a beer and watched the end of an NBA playoff game in comfy chairs.  Is there a more appropriate way to get ready for married life?

Day 2:  Friday, June 6th: Wedding Day!

Wedding or not, I was going to get a little work out of Dave before he left.  While I dropped off our dog, Angel, at the kennel, I instructed Dave and Andy grab a bunch of tables and chairs from our neighbors' back yards.  They were vital for the post-wedding barbecue on Saturday.  By the time I got back from the kennel, Andy and Dave had finished their little task and had left for the Short Hills Hilton to join the rest of the wedding party. 

At least the pocket square looked good
I got to the Hilton at around noon in time for the traditional “Father of the Groom” photo shoot in Dave’s room with the groomsmen.  Adam McCauley, one of the groomsmen, got things started right by handing around a flask of fireball whiskey.  Kimali Messado, another groomsman, took charge of sprucing up everyone’s handkerchief (i.e. "pocket square").  Actually, Kimali was obsessed with sprucing up everyone’s pocket square!   He started out by simply adjusting them, but that wasn’t enough.  He then took each handkerchief, ironed it on the bed, refolded it, and then carefully put it back in the person’s breast pocket.  But Dave’s pocket square still didn’t look perfect, so Kimali "RE-re-arranged" it and then proceeded to iron it in Dave’s pocket while Dave was still wearing his suit jacket!  Now that’s commitment! 

We had some time to kill at the end of the photo shoot, so Dave began practicing the face he was going to use for the traditional “first look” at the bride.  I’m sure his actual “first look” photo will be touching, but the one that he practiced in his room will be the one I always remember.

Artist's rendition ...
There’s one other photo that I really hope the photographer caught:  Dave giving Andy a brotherly “gut shot”.  It’s supposed to be ceremonial, but Dave really didn’t pull his punch all that much.  Andy’s “Oof!” sounded pretty heartfelt.  If it wasn’t Dave’s wedding day, a brotherly wrestling match would have undoubtedly ensued.

After Dave left for a different photo shoot, I hung out with the groomsmen at the hotel bar.  We had a few beers, ate lunch, and greeted other family members as they checked in.  Adam hung around the longest and related something that coincided perfectly with a sentiment that I planned to include in my wedding toast.  Adam mentioned that Dave isn’t all that comfortable with events like this wedding because he doesn’t like being the center of attention.  I wholeheartedly agreed.  Dave is outgoing and gregarious; he loves parties, but he’s not the “life of the party”, the guy with the lampshade on his head.  He’s the guy who makes parties fun for everyone else.  He’s the glue that holds parties together.

"Fore!"
The wedding ceremony was scheduled to begin at the Maplewood Country Club at 6:30pm, so the entire wedding party arrived at 5:30pm for more photos.  Things were running a little behind schedule but Stacey was totally unperturbed.  I’ve never seen her so calm.  It was a stunningly beautiful day – a perfect day for pictures – but I was a tad wary of the location.  We were only a few yards to the right of the first tee and I could easily imagine an overzealous and under skilled duffer shanking a drive into the wedding party!

After photos, the wedding party made their way to the patio of the country club to greet guests as they arrived.  Champagne and light snacks were being served, giving no indication of the onslaught of food and drink that would follow.
The actual wedding ceremony went without a hitch … literally!  It was highlighted by a Celtic Handfasting Ceremony, where the hands of the bride and groom are bound together by a rope to symbolize their wedding vows.  Stacey’s brother, Sean Erskine, performed the ceremony while Brian Erskine (Stacey’s other brother) and Sara Sankowich (Dave’s sister) explained the meaning of the ceremony to the congregation.  Afterwards, I learned that Sean had ignored Stacey’s last minute instructions and tied a more difficult knot, one that he had wanted to use all along!

Andy did his job as the the best man:  he didn’t drop the rings, nor did he pretend that he didn’t have the rings (which is what Kimali wanted him to do!).  The celebrant spoke very eloquently and gave a shout out to Dave’s Aunt Iréne who had made the rings.  The ceremony was short and sweet, lasting about 20 minutes.  From there, we headed into an adjacent room for the pre-reception cocktail hour.


It was at this point that the onslaught began: food and drink were everywhere!  In addition to the usual hors d'oeuvres served by the wait staff, there were various food stations serving lamb chops, sushi, stir fry, pasta, crudités, pizza, and more.  There was even a vodka and caviar bar, not to mention multiple open bars serving anything that you wanted, whether it was a Cosmo, a Manhattan, or just a cold beer.  I had to constantly warn people that this was just the cocktail hour…a full dinner was being served later!

After an hour or so, the actual reception began.  After the traditional dances (bride-groom, father-daughter, mother-son), the toasts began.  Stacey’s maid of honor, Tiffany Chen, led off.  She took a number of surprising jabs at Stacey (well-deserved, I’m sure) that were pretty amusing.  I particularly liked her comment that, before meeting Stacey, she had never heard anyone talk that much before!  She also mentioned that Stacey had become noticeably less hyper once Dave had become a part of her life.  I can see that.

Andy gave a great “best man” speech, recounting some of his memories of growing up with Dave.  Alluding to the toast that Dave gave at his wedding, Andy gave his account of the time where he and Dave were swinging each other around, having the time of their lives … until Dave flew off and embedded his front teeth in a wooden column.  That event obviously left an impression on more than just the wooden column!  I also liked Andy’s recollection of how he and Dave would “couchify” their Mom whenever she became particularly exasperated over something that they did.  They would each grab one of her arms, hoist her in the air, and carry her to the living room couch where they would hug her and refuse to let her go until she calmed down and was laughing.  Pure genius.  Andy ended his toast with a lacrosse story, relating an incident where Dave delivered a physical hit on him in practice, causing Andy to realize that “Little Mullen” had indeed grown up.

Dave, staying close ...
I gave the last toast and, for some, it might have sounded a tad inappropriate.  Instead of welcoming Stacey into the family and thanking her parents, Dennis and Mary Ann, for hosting such a wonderful celebration, I used the few minutes I had to correct an error that I had made at the weddings of my other two children, Sara and Andy.  I had planned on giving a toast at each of their weddings but, for differing reasons, I never did.  I used my toast to Dave and Stacey to rectify that situation as well.  I related a story that involved all of my kids and our most memorable family vacation, a week-long hike in the Grand Canyon.  I also spoke about the special strengths that I think each of my children possess.   Since it was Dave’s day, I concluded with his special strength:  his ability to act as the “glue” in any social situation, whether it be at work, at a party, or on an athletic team.  Dave has the ability to relate to almost anyone; he’s easy going, friendly, and he wants everyone to enjoy themselves.  It’s why he was voted by his lacrosse coaches and teammates as the winner of the Bobby Campbell Scholarship as the individual showing the greatest amount of teamwork and team spirit.   My toast went on way too long but it could have been worse.  I cut a good five minutes out of it just moments before delivering it!

Following the toasts, the food barrage began again.  There was a salad course, an entree (filet mignon, sea bass, or chicken), and a full dessert tray.  That was followed by crème brûlée, little milkshakes, and coffee.  The wedding cake didn't get cut and served until late in the evening but, if you were still looking for something else to satisfy your sweet tooth, a fully-stocked dessert table was available throughout the evening along with a freezer full of ice cream!   The multiple open bars also stayed available throughout the evening, as did a serve-yourself after-dinner drink bar. (I limited myself to just a couple of shots of Bailey’s!)

Unlike Dave and Stacey, who were out on the dance floor constantly, I spent a lot of time at the bar in the outer room talking with people.   I was in mid-sentence, though, when I heard the opening strains of “Love Shack” by the B-52’s and said, “Uh-oh, I have to go.  There’s something I can’t miss.”   Sure enough, every Mullen was already on the dance floor!  Over the years, "Love Shack" has become the official Mullen Family Party Song.  It started back in the 80's when my brother, Mike, and his wife, Anne, christened their shore house with that name.  Tom Kinslow, my brother-in-law, then made them a cute little "Love Shack" sign out of wood which they hung at the entrance.  In 1992, though, their shore house was totally leveled by Hurricane Andrew.  Nothing was left, not even the foundation.  Amazingly, a few days later, someone found that sign washed up on the beach and returned it to my brother.  When the house was rebuilt, the “Love Shack” sign was put back in its place of honor.  Now, whenever we have a family party – no matter where it is – this song eventually gets played and we're all transported back to the "Love Shack".

Dave’s buddies, particularly Joe Cannon, Adam, and Kimali, were all over the dance floor, as were all of Stacey's bridesmaids. Marilynn’s brothers, Alan (and his wife Nancy) and Carl (and his wife, Iréne) showed everyone what a proper jitterbug looked like.  Marilynn took a turn with Alan as well and learned a few moves that maybe I'll get the hang of someday.

Time flew by.  It was damn near midnight when I said, “Hey, I missed the cake cutting!”  I was then told that it hadn’t happened yet!  I don’t think I’ve ever been to a wedding where the cake was cut at midnight.  If the garter belt and bouquet were thrown, though, I definitely missed that!

Finally, at almost 1:00am, the bars closed and the ice-cream cart was trundled away.  The lights came on and the remaining guests went outside…not to leave, mind you, but to give the bride and groom a proper send-off.  Everyone was given a huge sparkler and told to form a path for Dave and Stacey to walk between.  Despite the mixture of alcohol and fire, no one’s hair caught on fire and Stacey’s gown didn’t get singed.  Since no one seems to have gotten a photo of that event, I pulled one off the web from someone else's wedding.  The sparklers in this photo are way too small and there were no trees in the Maplewood Country Club parking lot, but I simply had to use this photo.  Who does that groom look like?


With the reception officially over, the shuttles appeared and, after an extended debate as to whether there should have been two or three shuttles, everyone went back to the hotel.   A few die-hards stayed up for a "Winston Long" drink at the hotel bar and a privileged few were invited back to the Kinslow room for a drink.  As for me, well, you could put a fork in me.  It was 2:00am and I was done.

Day 3:  Saturday, June 7th: Brunch and Barbecue!

As if all of the food from the prior evening wasn’t enough to last the entire weekend, Marilynn and I hosted a brunch at the Short Hills Hilton at 10:30am.  About 90 people attended.  Not everyone was in the mood to eat, but everyone appreciated the coffee and tea!

The brunch ended at 12:30pm, but the wedding festivities weren’t over.  There was still “one party more” and about 40 people headed south to Cranbury for a barbecue at our house.  Things were supposed to kick off at 2:00pm, but Marilynn and I didn’t even get home until about 1:45pm.  At that time, almost nothing was ready – the beer wasn’t even cold!  Like a true Mullen party, though, everyone who showed up was put to work.  By the time I got back with a cold case of beer and some ice, the backyard was all set up: tables, chairs, awnings.  All I had to do was set up the music table.

At first, no one was hungry, so we just sat around conversating and drinking wine, beer, and sangria (the official “Ground Round” recipe that I got from my brother, Kevin).  Amazingly, though, by about 5:30pm, everyone started to get hungry.

I had foolishly told Marilynn months ago that I would handle the barbecuing and that there was no need for a caterer.  She had looked at me skeptically but said, “okay …”.  Well, now that it was D-Day (actually the day after D-Day) and I realized that I was out of my league.  Not only had I never been the barbecuer (that was always Dave’s job!) but I had 40 people to cook for!  And I had to cook four different types of meat and have it all hot and ready at the same time!  Tom Kinslow, my brother in law, offered to help but I’d be damned if I was going to let him show me up.  So I plowed ahead … literally, if you saw what the grill looked like.  It was jam-packed with food.  Grease was dripping constantly onto the grill pan, causing plumes of smoke to billow into the air.  It actually crossed my mind that a neighbor might mistake it for a house fire and call 911.

It eventually became clear that I had to have help.  My sister, Chris, jumped in and was at my elbow the whole time, pointing out flames that had to be snuffed, sausages that had to be rolled, and hot dogs that had to be charred a bit more for Annie.  She also threw cheese on most of the burgers.  Again, I mean this literally.  Chris didn’t want to get anywhere near all the flame and smoke, so she stood about a foot away from the grill and threw slices of cheese in the general direction of the burgers.  I then had to reach in and tong each piece of cheese into place.  Tom Martine and his wife, Joan, also gave me advice (mostly non-helpful) and Joan ferried cooked stuff into the kitchen so that it could be kept warm in the oven.

While I was battling with the grill, Marilynn and a host of women had everything else under control.  Rolls and buns were warmed to perfection, salads were made, and the entire buffet was set up.  As bad a time as I was having, I was glad that I was cooking rather than in charge of set up. Miraculously, everything came together in the end.  The food (except for one piece of chicken on which I dumped a pile of seasoned salt) tasted pretty good and every bit of food was eaten without audible complaint. 

After the food, it was time for the Belmont Stakes.  Unfortunately, the actual event didn’t live up to the pre-race hype.  California Chrome, the winner of the first two legs of the Triple Crown, started slowly, made a slight charge that had everyone hoping, but faded badly to finish tied for fourth.  Hardly anyone really cared though, so it was back to the party for everyone except Dave and Stacey.  Unbelievably, they were still at the barbecue, even though they had an 8:50am flight to St. Lucia the next day!

Little by little, most of the other guests left too.  The core Mullen group, though, hung on for a few more hours, conversating outside in lawn chairs until the mosquitoes began to rule the night.  At 11:30pm, I was the last man standing, watching the NY Rangers lose in overtime to the LA Kings (how could the Rangers be so thoughtless?).  I turned off the light and went to bed.  Dave and Stacey’s three-day wedding festivities had finally come to an end!

Congratulations!


Miscellaneous Photos


Yeah, I know.  This blog entry has droned on even longer than my wedding toast.  Well, it's not over yet! Here are a few more pictures (absolutely none of which I took) which simply had to be included.  Special thanks to Kimali Messado, Pete and Sara Sankowich, Sarah McGarvey, Chris and Ross Kreamer, Karen McGarvey, Tim Lee, and Jonathan Mullen for providing me with these photos. 


The official invitation
Making absolutely sure he arrives


And it only took 9 years ...

Bound for happiness

Always watching over ...

The man was born to wear a tie

He really wishes he had that hat!


Mingling before the ceremony ...

A pose on the patio ...

Unable to decide on a food station

Obviously sampled the vodka and caviar bar

Always important to enjoy your own wedding!


Some "selfies" work ...

Others do not.

The proud father

"There are places I remember ..."

Dennis and Mary Ann with Mr. and Mrs. Mullen


The way they looked the entire evening!

Congratulations, Stacey!  These two are officially your uncles!

Really enjoying that yogurt at Brunch!