Showing posts with label Mike Regan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mike Regan. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Leo High School - Incubator of Wit



 

Tully eloquent in his glozes, yet vainglorious: Solomon wise, yet too wanton: David holy but yet an homicide: none more witty than Euphues, yet at the first none more wicked. The freshest colors soonest fade, the teenest razor soonest turneth his edge, the finest cloth is soonest eaten with moths, and the cambric sooner stained than the coarse canvas: which appeared well in this Euphues, whose wit being like wax apt to receive any impression, and having the bridle in his own hands, either to use the rein or the spur, disdaining counsel, leaving his country, loathing his old acquaintance, thought either by wit to obtain some conquest, or by shame to abide some conflict, and leaving the rule of reason, rashly ran unto destruction. Who preferring fancy before friends, and his present humor, before honor to come, laid reason in water being too salt for his taste, and followed unbridled affection, most pleasant for his tooth. When parents have more care how to leave their children wealthy than wise, and are more desirous to have them maintain the name, than the nature of a gentleman: when they put gold into the hands of youth, where they should put a rod under their girdle, when instead of awe they make them past grace, and leave them rich executors of goods, and poor executors of godliness, then it is no marvel, that the son being left rich by his father's will, become retchless by his own will. John Lyly:1579 
1578




I had occasion to quaff coffee with men of wit once again.  Nowhere on earth, it seems to me anyway, is there a habitat of the humanities so plush in periphrase, euphuistic circumanbages, prolixities, and piles of pleonasms as my south side Chicago neighborhood.  There be no terse Terrences on these Elysian urban arteries.

This is no home to thin and tight lip-ed cut-to-the-chasing merchant-pettifogers and gowned charlatans, who see time as money and words get in the way of both.  Hyde Park and Evanston stamp worth with coin in thy purse Puritanism and unitarian ambiguity of sound and sense.  Our rhetorical umbilical chords extend to Hibernian, Caledonian, Carpathian and Parnassan springs of generously honey'd word-waters.


In short, the guys can gab.

Of this breed of wags, none stands taller than a Leo High School Alumnus.  I say this with all requisite due diligence as to my attachment vocational to this academy of Faith, Scholarship and Deeds. Though I am an employee of this brainery of brawny stalwarts, I am not one myself.  I graduated from the now only remembered Little Flower High School.

I coffee at Dunkin Donuts operated by Moroccan born Kareem and attended by alumni of every Catholic parish and high school south of Madison Avenue with the odd sprinkling of Los Nortenos de Chicago, with an august parliament of worthies.  I was asked about enrollment for the coming school year and happily reported on the swelled ranks of young Lions, including seven young men from St. Gabriel's parish in Canaryville.

This segue'd to the looming Chicago Public Schools job action -voted on and set for strike.  I was told that marketing opportunities abound and all we needed was a snappy slogan.  A shower of shibboleths followed, all identifying rich niche tags; thus, Leo High School -Expect to Succeed & etc.


A Leo Man, Mike Regan '70,  stood tall and voiced the truth honeyed with periphrase, genius, wisdom and truth.


Leo High School - A success story from one end of the bar to the other!


Mike Regan, Citizens!  Un homme qui offre toujours le meilleur mot sur ​​n'importe quel objet donner!


Hey, that Motts Juice is mighty tasty!



Monday, July 25, 2011

My Irish Tan and Leo High School Culture


Irish tan
An Irish tan occurs when a very pale-skinned Irish person gets too much sun, causing their skin to become even more red and uneven. An Irish tan is not a sunburn; turning red and splotchy is just how some very fair Irish-Americans tan.
Urban Dictionary

The day off at Leo High School, and yet I rose before Phoebus as is my habit. The Busy old sun who bothers lovers' locked arms and bids farmers to hie to the fields of corn and soy bean and the daily assessment about God and the Government in league to cheat a man, as well as that bastard Cotter over to the grain elevator in Herscher . . .; the Sun who bakes and breeds.

I showered and did not shave. I eschewed my nattier work day wear, for Chicago Yeomanry togs - a Leo High School polo and my white-guy hillbilly denim shorts and play shoes. Looking good,Hombre! Out into misting morning air.

I needed my morning amble for coffee and took the long route east so I could swing by CVS on Western at 111th Street and pick up some stuff that I forgot to get yesterday and County Fair opens at 8AM.

At 109th & Western next to the Dubliner Pub a crowd of maybe thirty folks, mostly African American, were lined up for jobs at the Security Guard Company. Folks would wait another hour or so in order to beat back the waves of economic mayhem, God Bless Them.

CVS was emptier than a politician's words and I picked my items discounted by the handy red Extra Care Pays You Back card. I reflected on my tasks today.

Leo High School is hosting a Comedy Night on the Friday after Thanksgiving at the Beverly Fine Arts Center just parallel to my morning's manly amble.

I needed to call back Leo Man, Comedian and Green Activist Paul Kelly about the performers - Leo Lions all and Kings of Comedy: John Caponera, Soups Campbell, Paul Kelly, and Kenny Howell.

Leo Men are rock-ribbed givers - not philanthropists, Philanthropists generally make more from their charity giving than they actually dispense. Witness Oprah, Bill Gates, Michael Jordan and the robber barons of old Carnegie, Rockefeller, and Vanderbilt. No, Leo Men, like people and foundations of good will, give. Huge difference.

Leo Men also will say exactly what is on their minds. I noted this fact in 1995 when I attended my first Leo Banquet at the now vanished Martinique/Drury Lane Theater. I was carrying three big boxes of Leo Sweatshirts for sale, through a throng of Brawny Stalwarts from the 1930's -1980's.

A tall gentleman from the Class of 1932 was making his way at his top speed through the beefy likes of Tom Hopkins, Joe Ramos, Moose Gilmartin, Barney Bulfin, Jack McNamara, Bill Holland and the saintly Jack Howard. At some point, I rather shyly asked the gentleman's pardon, in order to make a detour around the thick Alumni throng.

"You didn't go Leo, did you Kid." The well dressed gentleman who looked like he might have been the retired CEO of General Motors -Thomas Aquinas Murphy stated a fact and not a question.

"No sir. I went to Little Flower High School and . . ." I word- weaseled out.

" No kidding. You'd gone to Leo; you'd a told me to haul my #$%^ing old ass out of the way." concluded this Captain of American Industry Emeritus.

On this poignant encounter, I had good cause to connect - The Beverly Arts Center is run by a Leo Man -Mike Nix - who had run the Martinique. I was passing the Arts Center in my westward jaunt for coffee at Kean Gas - operated by Jimmy and Rolly Kean relatives of Leo President Dan McGrath and home to Leo Alumni patrons.

I bought my coffee, said hello to Kean Pumps Man and hero Ray and took my path homeward north on Talman. The white pick up truck of Leo Class of 1970 Man and plumber Mike Regan pulled in the drive before I hit the sidewalk. 'Hi, Hick!'

Leo men! Givers and Diogenes' Sons - the lamp of honest assessment and cant free courtesy.


At 109th Street Mike Regan's white pick-up slowed portending hearty fellowship and salutations of good-will.

" Next time you're at the beach, Hickey, try getting out of your car!"

This is but one of the rough hewn granite blocks of human experience that forms the pyramid to God's All-Seeing Eye!