you dropped a bomb on me

For the past few summers, Mrs. Pincus and I, along with a couple of friends, have spent our evenings attending various free concerts hosted by nearby Camden County in New Jersey. At the beginning of the summer, a series of upcoming concerts at various outdoor venues are announced on the public website. The concerts have featured a wide range of performers and musical genres from folk rock, Tex-Mex, blues, experimental, jazz and a few I have forgotten. The performers are local acts, popular national acts, as well as once-popular national acts. Sprinkled among these are niche performers including a trio of young ladies we saw as the summer came to a close.

I have loved music from the Big Band era since I was a little kid. My mom was a huge fan of swing music and she introduced me to the likes of Benny Goodman, Glenn Miller and the Dorsey Brothers. My mom was partial to Frank Sinatra, that skinny kid from Hoboken, as well as America's "girl next door," Doris Day. My mom had a stack of big band albums and they were played often in the Pincus house. She tried to teach me to jitterbug, a dance she loved. She even was able to coax my stick-in-the-mud father to "cut a rug" at weddings and bar mitzvahs over the years. One of my mom's favorites from the World War II era was The Andrews Sisters. I have to admit, my first exposure to The Andrews Sisters was Bette Midler's 1973 cover of "Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy." I remember hearing this catchy ditty on the radio and my mom — as my mom often did — explained that the song was originally done by The Andrews Sisters in the 1941 Abbot & Costello war farce Buck Privates. She then produced a load of Andrews Sisters albums and — even though I was deeply immersed in the music of Elton John and Alice Cooper — I was in heaven. The Andrews Sisters were the shit! Tight harmonies, infectious wordplay, and a boogie-woogie jump beat that defied your feet to keep still. And hits? The Andrews Sisters recorded over 600 tunes — six hundred! They sold over one hundred million records. They charted 113 songs, including 23 with crooner Bing Crosby. They appeared in 17 movies. And they served as ambassadors and "cheerleaders" for the war effort, stirring patriotic pride in a time when actual patriotic pride had a meaning.

So, when I saw that Camden County was welcoming "American Bombshells" as part of the 2024 Free Concert series, I marked it off on my calendar and did my best convincing to get my wife and our concert friends to go. "It's a tribute to The Andrews Sisters!," I cajoled, reciting the promo lines verbatim from the website. That fact that it was free, it was a beautiful night and we'd be picnicking on local hoagies all worked in my favor. 

We met at the lakeside park and set up our camp chairs. We ate our hoagies and chatted before show time. I noticed that the crowd was particularly lighter than the throng that attended a free Spin Doctors show earlier in the summer. Despite not having a charting hit in over thirty years, The Spin Doctors commanded a huge crowd with folding camp chairs and territory-claiming blankets covering the ground for as far as the eye could see. The American Bombshells, however... not so much. With just minutes to go before the scheduled 7 PM start, the area reserved for seating showed more grass than patrons.

After a few awkward stage announcements by some Camden County officials, the three young ladies of the American Bombshells took the stage. They sported tight military uniforms with their olive drab garrison caps tilted at a jaunty angle. They were doing their best to mimic the familiar look of The Andrews Sisters. They introduced themselves and launched into "Don't Sit Under The Apple Tree" with near-perfect Andrews Sisters harmony. The crowd was immediately receptive. A few older couples even popped up to jitterbug in front of the stage. 

As cute as it was, this was somewhat puzzling to me.

My mother and father were the target audience for the Andrews Sisters and all music of the Swing Era. My father entered the United States Navy in 1944. He was 18 years old. My father passed away in 1993 at the age of 66. If he were still alive, he would be 98 — hardly an age at which jitterbugging would be advisable or even possible. If my mother were still with us, she would be 101. As agile and vivacious as my mom was, I think her boogieing days would be looooong behind her. The few couples who were showing off their fancy footwork to the jump-blues stylings of this Andrews Sisters homage looked to be in their 70s.  This means they were born around ten years after World War II ended and around the time that the Andrews Sisters were embarking on solo careers. Sure, I am in the minority in my love of the Swing Era, but these impromptu dancers were too young to have experienced a war-time visit from Bob Hope or a trip to the Hollywood Canteen.

Nevertheless, we were there to enjoy an evening of 40s nostalgia — just like the website advertising promised. The singers treated us to the hits "Bei Mir Bist Du Schön" and their take on "Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy." They moved on to songs popularized by Frank Sinatra and Ella Fitzgerald. Then, for some reason, they jumped ahead to some hits from the 1950s. They sang "Mr. Sandman" and "Please Mr, Postman." They paused the music to thank our servicemen and women and offered a flag-waving salute while singing a medley of service branch songs — "Anchors Aweigh," "The Caisson Song" (with different lyrics from the ones my dad sang around the house when I was little), "The Marine Corps Hymn." The young ladies proceeded to sing some folk-rock songs of the 1960s before launching into a full-blown vocal tribute to all things America, including "My Country 'Tis of Thee" and "God Bless America." They capped the evening with the Toby Keith musical "line drawn in the sand" threat "Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue" and the right-wing "pick a fight with me" anthem "God Bless The USA."

Midway through the 1950s segment of the performance, I lost interest. By the time they reached their nationalistic frenzy, I was ready to leave.

At the risk of starting a political debate, the current state of our country is fragile. The less it is discussed in non-political situations the better. A night of music and reminiscing is not the place to stir up polarizing feelings among an audience of unknown political leanings. Just sing and leave your political affiliations behind. I found the progression of the evening to be very uncomfortable and I think I was not alone.

The hoagies were good, though.

www.joshpincusiscrying.com

keep your hands to yourself

What the hell is the matter with men?

Recently, there has been a lot of talk and accusations and speculation in the news about the behavior of men. This "hot button" topic was ignited by the actions of one particular man who is seeking the office of President of the United States. He has been recorded, both on audio and video, happily bragging about his exploits with women. It seems — at least the way he tells it — that he could see no difference between whether his advances were welcome or unwelcome. I don't wish for this to turn into a political commentary. As a matter of fact, I have purposely steered clear of any sort of political content on this blog, save for this single post during the current campaign season. Instead, I wish to address the outrageous behavior I have witnessed from men in the workplace... and how, as a man, it horrifies me.

Years ago, my wife's friend was married to a man whose behavior could be deemed as "unsavory." He worked as a copier repairman, a job that required him to go from office to office to service out-of-commission copiers. I have worked in many offices and encountered many copier repairmen. Our interaction was usually limited to a cordial "hello" when they arrived, followed by direction to the copier in question. Then, an hour of so later, he'd return, straightening his tie with toner-stained hands and asking for a signature on his work order. And that's it. He's out of your life until the next time the copier acts up... and even then there's no guarantee that the same guy will show up. Well, the guy we knew was fired from his job for sexual harassment. It seems he made an inappropriate comment to a secretary (a woman he did not know) at an office where he was not an employee. I can't figure out how the opportunity arises to have a conversation with someone in a workplace in which you are a guest — let alone — breach the conversation with a lascivious remark. He managed to get another job at a rival copier repair company and — wouldn't you know — he was fired again for the exact same offense, but at a different office!

At my last job, I briefly worked with a department supervisor named Mike. Mike was an intense, frenetic bundle of nervous energy. My position, at the nation's largest after-market auto parts retailer, was in the production of the company's newspaper advertisements. I worked in a large room of cubicles with ten other artists, all doing the same thing — and that was preparing multi-page circulars for newspaper distribution. Due to the breakneck pace that needed to be maintained, we employed the services of a number of artists who worked as outside contractors (or freelancers, if you will). One morning, Mike was sitting with a female freelancer at the cubicle just behind mine. He was explaining how he wanted a particular ad composed. After she bristled several times at Mike's leering usage of the word "sweetheart," she bolted from her desk when he placed an uninvited hand upon her exposed knee. The young lady stormed in the department head's office and, in a hail of obscenity-laced shrieks, she made it clear that she would never set foot on these premises again. Mike was reprimanded, though not firmly enough. Within a day or two, he was the object of several grievances from a number of other female employees, including one long-time production artist who was subjected to Mike delivering a lengthy instruction while his eyes laser-focused on her chest. Once again, Mike was chided for his behavior, but not fired. He allegedly attended sensitivity classes, but I noticed no change in his demeanor. Eventually, Mike pushed a male worker too far and the guy — who bested Mike in the height department by nearly half a foot — had to be restrained. Mike quit the next day.

At my current job, a man in an executive position regularly spoke in derogatory terms about women (as well as various ethnic and religious groups). Almost immediately after taking the job, he began to use the foulest of language and make the most inappropriate comments at the most inappropriate times to the absolute wrong people. He also (so I heard) made unwanted physical contact with a few female members of my department.

Although he was reprimanded many times, he was not let go. I speculated (as had been the case with Mike) that filling his position was a long and grueling process. It was a procedure that the company did not want to undertake again so soon. So instead of doing the right thing, they just stuck it out with this guy until they could no longer take it. He was eventually removed for reasons that were never made public. One morning he was there and, late in the day, he wasn't.

I have been in the workforce for a little over thirty years. I have always maintained a cordial working relationship with all of my coworkers. I made sure, however, I never got too ingratiated on a personal level. I remained friendly enough to achieve the common goals as set by our employer.

I have had many female immediate superiors. I actually prefer working for a woman than a man. Women, I have observed, are harder and more dedicated workers, while men, for the most part, are egotistical blowhards who are more concerned with wielding authority than actually accomplishing the job at hand. (There are some women who fit this model, though they are few and far between.) Over the years, I did gain "work friends" — some of them female — that I have kept long after I left the company that brought those friendships to be. I like them very much, but I am still a bit uneasy hugging them.

I will say, however, that I have always been very careful with female coworkers. In my personal life, I am not a "hugger." I am not comfortable hugging anyone who is not my wife or my son. It's nothing personal. I like many people that I just won't hug. I admit that it can get awkward, especially since my wife has no problem being "huggy-kissy." In the workplace, I have always been very careful not to touch a female co-worker in any way. I will not (nor have I ever) compliment a female coworker on clothes, hair, jewelry... anything. I fear that any — any — innocent contact or attempted compliment could be misconstrued and jeopardize my employment status. You never really know how someone is going to react, so, as they say, "better safe than sorry." Very sorry.

It is a revealing reflection of current attitudes that, for the first time in the history of the United States, a major political party has nominated a woman as their presidential candidate... and the man she's running against is disgusting.

www.joshpincusiscrying.com