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Volume 3, Number 1,
August 1998
MIDNIGHT
SUN ONLINE
-The Online Newsletter for
Robert E. Peary High School Alumni-
MSO WEB SITE - http://www.pearyhs.org
Page
2
From: Monica Higler jenh@mci2000.com (1983) (c/o Jennifer Higler) Date: Fri, 24 Jul 1998 Subject: Update
I found out about the MSO website from my sister, Jennifer ('85). Occupation: Health Education Specialist, Children: No kids. One very large cat, one very loveable Rottweiler.
Favorite memory? Much of that time has become kind of a blur. Mostly I remember goods friends (many of us knowing each other since elementary school)... and some REALLY crazy parties! Just doing crazy and stupid stuff and getting away with most of it. I do remember spending most of senior year being anxious to graduate and move on!
Since graduating from Peary: A.A. from Montgomery College and B.S. in Health Science & Community Health Education from Towson State. Did some travelling, also. Grad. school? Maybe one day ... as soon as I decide what to study. I spent several years working in Baltimore's inner city communities, primarily developing health promotion and wellness progams for a very challenging population. I currently work for Baltimore HealthCare Access, Inc. doing community education and public relations. I also teach (adult ed.) part-time, and am involved with an animal rescue/shelter program. I live with my boyfriend of 7 years. We love skiing in winter and O's baseball in the summer (even when they lose.) Favorite teachers: Mr. Hill (I learned all the math skills I've needed so far in life while in his class), Mr. Travers, Ms. Hale, Ms. Fellows (for putting up with us), Mr. Bragonier (Hello, what was the deal with that mannequin?), and Ms. Glass, whose art classes were a respite, especially for those of us who seemed to be in a permanent "senior slump".
Many thanks to those who started MSO, and who work hard to keep it going. I know I'm not the only one who was motivated to dig out the yearbooks and reminisce. What a long strange trip it's been.
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From: Leonard Chornock chorlop@erols.com (1975) Date: Fri, 24 Jul 1998 Subject: Birth
Michaela (Kayle) Rose Chornock born 7/10/98, 2:15 pm, 7lb4oz 20inches. Mother and baby healthy and home. This is the 3rd daughter, someone needs to teach me how to make boys! Lenny Chornock (Class of 75')
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From: Robert E. Kibler Robert_Kibler@mail.vcsu.nodak.edu (1974) Date: Sat, 25 Jul 1998 Subject: Update
I found out about the website from my brother Bruce. Occupation: Ass't Professor English, Children: Bethany Anne Kibler 18
Memorable Incident: Collective Streak around the track
Since High School: I tried landscaping for a while, and house painting, then, sold my 1967 Camaro Supersport, with headers and cragar mags, and took the money and went to Europe and Africa. Half of my family lived in Zurich for 5 years just after Peary, so I had a base of operations for travel. I travelled. Returned, and enrolled at Montgomery College. That allowed me to transfer to UofM College Park, despite no GPA (I graduated 605 out of 605); Uof M College Park allowed me to transfer to St Mary's College of Maryland, where I had my greatest educational and social experiences. Got married, had child. Joined military and then Special Operations (initially, I had hoped for a desk job), so one year training, one year out of Fort Bragg and Pope Airfield with Combat Control and Special Operations Group,then one year with 1/75 Ranger Battalion, Savannah, Georgia,and one year of what you might call freelance. Lots of travel. Lots of jungle, especially. Got out, Returned to Maryland, got MA in English, went back to Europe, then went to Beijing for the year just after Tiannemen; taught English and Humanities at Chinese Academy of Sciences. Returned via Mongolia/Siberia/Moscow, et cetera on Siberian Express. Received Phd in Medieval and Modern English Lit and literature of Latin Antiquity, University of Minnesota. Got divorced, remarried. Divorced again. Now up here in the Northlands, teaching literature and humanities at small liberal arts branch of University of North Dakota. Pretty nice up here. So again, la vita nuova
Future Plans: Finish a few more articles, an anthology, and perhaps one academic book, but mostly, I am finished with scholarship, or at least am finished with ten years of life in the scriptorium. Want to write something new. Get a new vision. That's it. I am looking for a new vision.
Memorable Teacher: Ed Burlas. I was a juvenile delinquent in HS, and I never much went to class or willingly participated. But for some reason, I always did the mile run in Burlas' class. I ran as fast as I could, and only this one other guy consistently finished ahead of me. I did nothing else in gym but that mile run, and so fully expected to fail. Damned if Burlas did not give me an A, and I was shocked. Gradually, his having done that had some positive effect on me.
Great site.
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From: Jim Riley KRiley8057@aol.com (1984) (c/o Karyl Muirhead Riley) Date: Sat, 25 Jul 1998 Subject: Update
Occupation: U.S. Navy - FT1/SS, Spouse: Karyl, Karyl's Occupation: Sales Assistant, Children: Carlin - Age 3 years, Charlie - Age 18 months Since High School: Joined the Navy in 1986. Married in April 1994 to Karyl Muirhead (Class of 1982). Had two sons.
Future Plans: Retire in October 2006 and take up professional fishing.
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From: Robert J. Williams williamb@up.lib.mi.us (1974) Date: Sun, 26 Jul 1998 Subject: Update
I found out about the MSO from my sister. Occupation: Systems Engineer, Spouse: Issy, Children: Karl... age 18, Kevin... age 11, Kristina... age 6, Kayla... age 6
Since High School: After graduation, tried UM, wasn't ready. Worked for NOAA traveling the U.S. Left government in 1982. Electronics school, Married with children in 1987. Worked for Sperry Univac ( Unisys) till 1988 in D.C. and Mpls, Mn. Moved to Hurley Wisconsin in 1989, started my own retail computer storefront. Saw the light and sold out to Computerland in 1993. In March 97 company went under. Consultant until Feb 1998. Completed MSCE in June 1998. Now have position with medium size consulting firm in Mpls, Mn.
Future Plans: Plan on continuing education for degree in CS and all certs I can get. It's never too late!!!
Memorable Teachers: Bragonier and Glass
My oldest son, Karl accepted and starting school at the Univ of Wisconsin Madison campus, majoring in Journalism.
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From: Tom Way way@cis.udel.edu (1980) Date: Tue, 28 Jul 1998 Subject: MSO Submission
Insanity Loves Company What I've been up to since high school by Tom Way
Since high school, I've been trying not to sweat the small shit. The adventure begins in the fall of 1980. I'm a doe-eyed freshman at the Catholic University of America, with the declared major of "Open major." This handy classification is newly-foisted upon higher education by the same folks who dreamt up military intelligence, meteoric rise and near-miss. After I climb from a 4.0 average my first semester to a respectable 2.2 by my fifth semester, I tip my hat to the pontiff and tra-la-la to the abundant decadence of the University of Maryland, College Park (or as I like to call it, "the University of Maryland, College Park"). There, I "study" Radio, Television and Film, garnering my BA in Howard Stern Impersonation in May of 1984.
Next, I should've been dragged kicking and screaming to Syracuse, New York, where I work for nearly a year as a wacky morning radio personality. Oddly enough, I go there willingly. I complain, but I have to admit it WAS a lot of fun, in an Earl Scruggs-esque, "Dueling Banjos," squeal-like-a-pig kind of way. (I've worked part-time at 5 or 6 other radio stations in Syracuse, DC and LA over the years.) So, I leave for the relative sanity of Hollywood. Swimmin' pools, movie stars.
I arrive in LA in the Fall of 1985, knowing not a single soul in this town notorious for stealing same. Within a month, I'm a production secretary at the American Film Institute (thanks to Mrs. Zimmerman, and Typing I in 12th grade). Hey, at least I'm working in show business. I last one month, thanks mainly to my charmingly neurotic supervisor who makes me completely retype (this was before WordPerfect arrived in Hollywood) memos to film school students five or six times to move margins in or out by a Pica or two.
Thanks to a college friend who I find working in beautiful, downtown Burbank, I get a new job driving a humongous delivery truck, circa 1965 (we call it "The Whale"), delivering $75,000 video cameras, lighting equipment, camera dollies and the omnipresent C-stands to movie and TV studios all over town. After about five months of that, I deliver a camera to a soundstage, and wind up helping to set up the camera and mount to it a Teleprompter. The teleprompter, a device that news people and others use to read a script projected on a partial mirror that is mounted directly in front of a camera lens, is being run by a guy who owns the largest teleprompter rental company in LA. Oh, and they're hiring.
Dissolve to: One year later, another small soundstage in Hollywood. Elizabeth Taylor is sitting in front of the camera as the tense crew, in uncharacteristically hushed tones, is setting lights, tweaking the camera angle, chomping on bagels, and generally ignoring this temporarily svelte star (it was 1986, a thin year). All she has to look at is the teleprompter screen, from which she'll shortly be reading the very first commercial for AMFAR. The teleprompter is computerized, and I sit at the computer, ready to go.
Liz and I are the only two people ready, so I decide to kill a little time, and I type "What is your favorite color?" on the prompter. I'm wearing headphones and Liz had a lapel microphone, so above the quiet din I hear her say, "Red." I change the color of the screen to red and she laughs. So, I type, "What do you think of Joan Rivers?" She says, "I really don't much care for her," and laugh again, louder. Now, the director and crew are starting to wonder why Liz is talking to herself and laughing. Liz asks, "Where are you?" She's asking for it, so I type, "Right in front of you." Another laugh.
By now, people who initially thought Liz was going Tourette on them are starting to catch on. One group is now huddled around my console watching me, another standing near Liz reading the prompter as we converse for another few fabulous minutes. It breaks the tension, everybody loosens up, and the afternoon goes well. At the first break, Liz comes over to see "That marvelous machine." I teach her how to work it, how to scroll the words up and down. But it's obvious Liz can't type, so I suggest she stick to the in-front-of-the-camera stuff that has worked for her in the past.
I spend two years working as a prompter operator, going to all the big studios, being flown around the country, to work on commercials and industrial films with the likes of (ironically) Joan Rivers, Lee Iacoca, Magic Johnson, George Burns, Dick Clark, Zsa Zsa Gabor, Orenthal James Simpson, and my personal favorite, Doug Henning (among many others). It's an exciting time, and I discover that the bigger a star is, generally, the nicer and more self-confident they are. Ricardo Montalban, after working on a couple trivial 30 second public service announcements for the American Cancer Society, makes it a point to hobble around (he's got very bad knees) to each and EVERY person on the crew and shake their hand, thanking each of us for making his job so much fun and so easy. On the other hand, Bill Maher was a total prick to each and every person on the set (that was 1987). Years later, he sexually harassed my wife and half the staff (the female half) of a show she worked on, so times didn't change that little turd.
The years of 1987 to 1994 find me working in jobs as varied as script coordinator, film clip researcher, production supervisor, associate director, writer, producer and director, on shows as varied as "Dream On", "In Concert", "Roc", "Adventures in Wonderland", "D.C. Follies", "Farm Aid 5", "Muhammad Ali's 50th Birthday Party Special", "Spanish Star Search" (where I nearly got my ass kicked by Fernando Allende, an appropriately macho Venezuelan "superstar"... apparently in his country, unlike ours, being told to "go F^×yourself" is an insult rather than a compliment... go figure), and my personal least-favorite, "Faces and Places", a travel show shot in London during which the entire crew almost got arrested for harassing a palace guard... one of those guys in the big furry penis hats who never speaks or smiles. Suffice it to say, you shouldn't poke the guy in his tummy. Bad news.
Working as an integral part of the writing staff on "Roc", a sitcom that we put on live (for real, as you're sitting in your family room, LIVE) for the entire second season, was a definite high point. The show is about the life and times of a decent man, a garbage man, living with his hard-working wife, grumpy activist father, and scamming musician of a brother, in the roughest poorest section of inner-city Baltimore. Naturally, it's a comedy. The cast, all theatre trained, was so good that even though we were live, there was never once a mess-up noticeable even to those of us following the script, sitting in the broadcast booth. Amazing. Charles S. Dutton, the actor who plays "Roc", is truly one of the most gifted actors with which it has been my pleasure to work. (Sentence construction brought you by Mrs. Rosen, Mr. Gibbs and Mr. Boteler.)
In the midst of all this, my best friend John Warrington (1980), serving time in Dover, Delaware in the U.S. Air Force, dies in 1990, just three days before Christmas. Although I couldn't make it back for his funeral, I was honored to write his eulogy. After writing jokes and introductions and such, things like, "And now, the two most exiting words in show business, Tony Danza!" for TV shows for a number of years, I still felt completely unprepared doing it for real. Summing up your best friend's life in a few pages is about as raw and basic as writing gets. Losing your best friend is about as raw and basic as life gets.
Magic remains a big part of my life. In the Midnight Sun, I was once quoted as saying that I planned to "fool the pants off the school". Well, it didn't work for the most part (and I think you know who you are). However, my magic business blossomed during high school and really took off during my college years, to the point where I was performing over 100 shows a year for kids parties, company picnics, corporate events, and even once for a Christmas party at the Japanese Embassy. I auditioned for membership to the Magic Castle in 1987, and was accepted. I was lucky to have the opportunity to hone my craft while living in LA, and performed at the Castle many times. I still practice fairly often, and perform from 10 to 20 shows a year for parties, mall events, on board a local tourist train, and thanks to an old chum, most of the Western Maryland College reunion events.
In 1991, I married my fantastic wife, Laura. She moved to LA in 1989 and, as a remote acquaintance, I helped her get work in TV. (We weren't "remote" for long, if you know what I mean, nudge-nudge, wink-wink, say-no-more) She eventually found her way to George Schlatter Productions. George, one of Frank Sinatra's lifelong best friends, and one of the four famous folks who were recently mugged in Beverly Hills (George grabbed the foot of one of the cretins and flipped him over), is best known for creating such classics as "Rowan & Martin's Laugh-In", "Real People" and the "American Comedy Awards". The Kris Kringlified Schlatter is one of those old-time Hollywood guys who knows everybody, and it was a real pleasure to get to know him and hear his great stories.
So, Laura and I both want to start a family, and we decide the year to start is 1994. We also decide that we want our kid(s) to grow up with the opportunity to know their relatives (for better or worse, I might add), I decide to pursue a graduate degree in Computer Science as an entree into a more normal, sane life (the typical day in television production is 12 to 14 hours... and can be 20 hours a day). So we load up the truck, the four cats, the 6 week old baby girl (Emma Russell Kerst Way), and the two cars and head from LA to Delaware.
Naturally, we planned the trip to coincide with a major heat wave in early July. It was 129 in the shade in Needles, California. Unfortunately, and if you've ever been to Needles you'll know what I mean, there IS no shade in Needles, California. Nor is there shade in most of Arizona and New Mexico. How about buyin' a few trees, Governor? At least there is torrential, lightning-infested rain in West Virginia, though. Moving west to east is a lot harder than the other way around. I mean, I made THAT trip in my 73 Superbeetle with just a banjo and a clean shirt to keep me company.
I start graduate school at the University of Delaware in September of 1994, with none of the classical schooling that my colleagues from India and China have. I'm not sure what they teach at them-there schools in India and China, but I swear these guys eat, sleep and puke in mathematical formulae. Multivariable. Meanwhile, I spend many many late nights and early mornings pounding Advanced Algorithms, Artificial Intelligence, Computer Architecture, and the like into my pliable albeit comedy-trained mind. I feel like a walking sitcom, the classic "fish out of water" plot line. Join the kooky adventures of a burnt-out Hollywood comedy writer as he gets his Ph.D. in computer science in a small town in Delaware (or Dela-where? as it is more oft-known).
In 1996 I receive my MS degree in Computer Science. I've fooled them so far, anyway. Since then, I continue to hack away at my Ph.D., my course work long completed. I'm in the process of narrowing down a topic and preparing my proposal, but it is a time-consuming proposition. My general area is Compilers, specifically Scaleable Optimization for High Performance Architectures. Translation: "How can you get really huge computer programs to run as fast as you can on really fancy computer processors?"
By mid-1997, my wife, daughter and I tire of living the lives of graduate students, surviving each year on the whopping $14,000 stipend of a grad student, so I find a job in the real world. I'm working as the Lead Software Engineer on various projects for a software development firm in Newark, Delaware. It's a job. It's flexible. And it's only 5 minutes from our new house, which we purchased this past January.
(Sorry for the periodic tense changes, but present tense is harder than I remember).
One of my fondest memories of Peary High School is the times I spent with the few, the proud, the masochistic, the Husky boys and girls cross country teams. And all we did, really, was put on some shorts, some shoes, and run. Simple and yet complete. I still run 5 or 6 times a week, although in Delaware it's harder than in Montgomery County. They just don't get the concept of sidewalks here, much less a network of bike paths.
And since I'm now ranting about Delaware, I might as well take the gloves off. For a moment, pretend you're in a smoke-free comedy club, having already covered your two drink minimum. For cryin' out loud, they just got bar-coded library cards THIS YEAR! But at least the public schools suck. Forced bussing of 4th and 5th graders for 1 well-spent hour each way into and out of the city, if that word really applies to Wilmington, sure has worked here!
Luckily we have one of the highest incidence rates of cancer in the country, so there's plenty of people dying before anybody notices they're not educated. Hey, I wonder if having the headquarters for DuPont fucking Chemical Corporation has anything to do with it? And since I was about to bring it up, how about a few street signs on some of the corners, so I can find where I'm going without leaning out the window and asking Bubba to put down his thumb for a minute, step over the pile of cigarette butts at the curb, and tell me where the goddamn video store is?
You like easily accessible driveways? Forget about 'em in Delaware. Here all cars must jump up the curb to get onto the driveway. Guess it's too tricky to use a little less concrete at the curb end of the driveway! Or maybe they just don't have time to sculpt a curb because they're too busy giving lost drivers directions instead of building the poor excuse for a freeway they've been re-paving for three years.
Ah, but the typical native of Delaware seems not to notice any of this, for I've never heard anybody complain, never heard anybody suggest improvements. To me THAT is the scariest part of all. They say the best thing about Delaware is that you can drive 30 minutes in any direction and be OUT OF IT. Whoever the heck "they" are, this time they are right.
My wife tells me I'm a little too critical of Delaware. I really should learn to sweat it less. But that doesn't seem to make it stink any less.
And so, the adventure reaches 1998, as a new chapter is begun. Our second daughter, Amelia Bradford Kerst Way (that's her name so far, anyway), is due September 17th. We're all really looking forward to her arrival, although I'm hoping she'll wait to arrive until I finish painting her room. I suppose that my excited anticipation of Amelia's impending arrival means that the plusses outweigh the minuses in this crazy world... and that the problems of this little person don't amount to a hill of beans. Or, as Homer would say, "Mmm, beans!" I think what Bart's dad really is trying to say is, "Don't sweat the small shit, because it's all small shit."
I would love to hear from anybody. Although, if you've read this far, I question your sanity. Aw, what the heck, write. Insanity loves company.
Thomas P. Way