I’m
going to make several assumptions that should hold true. There won’t be any
kind of homecoming dance and no one will be crowned Homecoming Queen (or King).
Various classes will gather the night before the game for drinks with
bald-faced lies tossed like paper basketballs at the office. Women who continue
to work out to maintain their girlish figure will be wearing the tightest
outfits (just to let everyone know they still have “it”) and men with the
Rogaine touch will be stroking their hairline all evening long.
Hopefully,
some annual traditions will never die – the Mud Bowl (which would be 81 years
alive in front of the Sigma Alpha Epsilon fraternity), the Alumni Band and cheerleaders
taking the field, and perhaps … a Saturday concert. The Alumni Association will
hold 37th consecutive giant tailgate party at the Indoor Track Building this
year. If you want to attend, it’s just $40 for an adult ticket (member) and $60
if you’re a non-association member.
The
School of Kinesiology (among many others) will have a full weekend schedule for
its former classmates, while this year’s Honor Classes will be 1963 and 2003,
complete with a Thursday night banquet.
It’s
when the older classes migrate back to school, marvel at how much things (other
than the foliage) have changed, and how much has been unaltered – asking what
happened to all the old retail landmarks now victims to the ongoing recession.
Such
as wondering what happened to the Campus Theater on S. University which mainly
showed foreign films and those kind of art house attractions which were not
deemed to be “mainstream;”
And
knowing if you wanted your parents to bivouac at a classy joint, well, there
was the Bell Tower Hotel on Central Campus and Campus Inn (on Huron.
Or there was Weber’s Inn, off campus on I-94, but an institution for decades.
There was Ulrich’s and Border’s and the
University Bookstore (inside the lower floor of the Union, and where someone
could get the best prices on records, i.e. vinyl LPs).
And
Pizza Bob’s made the best sub sandwiches in the world (meaning even a student
could afford one at any time).
But
Bimbo’s disappeared long ago, the P-Bell closed in 1985 and the V-Bell became a
Pizzeria Uno outlet; nothing remains the same as it exists in your memory.
In
fact, looking at a campus map, damn near half the buildings were non-existent
in the early 1970s. No one called it “South Campus;” it was just the MAIN (or
Central) campus (since North Campus was relatively new). What used to be open
space now appears to have Monopoly-like hotels and houses sitting everywhere.
Yes,
things were SO much simpler back then … but that’s not the point of this story.
---
For
Homecoming in 1972, the University Activities Council (UC) wanted to do something different by going “back to the
future” (years before the movie was ever conceived). It was the time of
Vietnam, Richard Nixon, rallies on the Diag to protest anti-marijuana laws and
the
imprisonment of local radical John Sinclair.
The male activists were known as Jimmy and the Javelins
(of which I was a happily guilty party) – named in that fashion because half of
the major doo-wop/pop groups had some reference to cars in their names. Oh
yeah, no one among us was named actually Jimmy; instead we had “cool” names
like TOR, da Prince, Big Jocko, Penguin and The Kid.
In their adult lives, they became financial advisors
(Ron), television reporters (Jeff), small-town newspaper publishers (myself),
renowned orthopedic surgeons (Dr. Dave … and co-inventor of Bone Doctors
barbecue sauce – the best!), investment banker (Leslie), executive assistant
(Susan) and medical school professor-research scientist (Jean).
Our
schtick was simple; do comedy routines or dance steps to classic songs for
about three hours – just as people used to see on “American Bandstand,” “Tiger
Beat,” “Hullabaloo” or “Shindig.” We usually did 3-4 sets, at 45-60 minutes each,
and in between, the students would dance to MORE “stacks of wax from the backs
of the racks.”
We even solicited the services of Detroit’s most famous
disc jockey/radio personality, Robin Seymour (Bobbin’ With the Robin”), who did
the honors of crowning the “beauty” and introducing us to the crowd.
Our
collective memories might be filled with cobwebs, but a little prompting
brought out these responses.
“I remember on that night how Big Jocko had women SCREAMING at the sight of him on stage, (wearing the skimpiest red trow), doing “Great Balls of Fire,” complete with emphatic pelvic thrusts at all the proper notes. It was his big solo number.
But others actually took it seriously, much to our
chagrin. And in what should have been termed “A lip-sync too far,” the
Javelins/Belts Lip-Sync Revue made an ill-fated excursion to a REAL performance
venue – the famous Roostertail Club (off Jefferson Avenue, right on the Detroit
River), where the Gold Cup hydroplane races drew more than 1 million fans on
both banks (Canadian and American) of the river.
But for one shining moment, we can say that we held the
elusive spotlight at a University of Michigan Homecoming. Or … as we would
always conclude our shows, shouting … “Grease for Peace!”
It
was only a few months removed from the Chicago Democratic Convention riots and
this small blip on the news called “Watergate.”
It
was, in reality, not a tribute to the past, but something of a satire.
The
entire weekend would contain a 1950s-theme with two concerts (Commander Cody
and the Lost Planet Airmen on Friday and Stevie Wonder on Saturday – each at
Hill Auditorium), the regular activities (notably the Mud Bowl) … and this
added event on Thursday night – a 1950s sock hop at the Michigan Union
Ballroom.
The
reputation of a group of students, mostly out of Alice Crocker Lloyd Hall, who
did lip-synching shows to songs from that golden era of rock ‘n roll (the 50s
and 60s), had snowballed. What was an end-of-semester joke actually grew to a
viable performance “band” – although no one played a single instrument and all
music was recorded on tape off scratchy 45s (well before Britney Spears or
Milli Vanilli ever decided to fake their way through concerts … or wishing
Miley Cyrus hadn’t ever been born).
We
were also joined by female counterparts, Chastity and the Belts (I believe that
reference is obvious), a trio of “nice” girls in beehive hairdos, a ton of makeup
and short, gold-male skirts named Chastity, Princess and Big Mama.
In
reality, the members were myself (known as TOR for reasons that require a book
worthy in length of Tolstoy), Ron Hummeny (da Prince), Mark Wachter (Big
Jocko), Jeff Hirsh (the Penguin, after his affiliation with the Pittsburgh
Penguins), David Heilbronner (the Kid), Leslie Rogers (Chastity), Susan Mickel
(Big Mama) and Jean Peduzzi (Chicky or Princess).
---
|
We
performed at many dorms on campus (West Quad, Mary Markley, Mosher-Jordan,
Alice Lloyd, East Quad), about every other weekend, and were paid enough money ($125
split many ways, depending on how much help we received for that show) to buy
nasty Omega pizzas (nicknamed Omigosh Pizza) for the next two weekends.
“Our standard rate for a sock hop was
$125, split among all the Javelins, Belts, and our sound guys, which worked out
to about $10 apiece. I think we were able to squeeze $150 out of UAC. Big
time!”
“When we started, we worked (or
performed) for free. Our first paying gig was Mosher-Jordan, where we were paid
around $50 – total, not apiece. We hit triple digits ($125 or so) when we
played West Quad. In honor of all the great 1950s DJs, that was our first (and
only) journey into the world of payola.
One of our “roadies” Gary Kreissman
(Gary the K), who, as I recall, either did some backup announcing for us, or
worked as one of the sound people, was friends with one of the West Quad
council members, who ‘booked’ us to play that dorm. And we had to kick back a
share of the big proceeds to said dorm council member … every act has an agent,
right?” – Jeff Hirsh
It
was nothing but fun for everyone, and apparently it caught the attention of the
UAC planning committee.
---
Jeff
and Ron were the “performers” representatives with the UAC group, meeting at
places like the Lamplighter.
“Don’t remember much about the meeting, but the
pizza was good.” – Ron
UAC
offered the challenge and we accepted, with some trepidation, because there was
a massive difference between the basement of Mosher-Jordan, or West Quad, and
the spacious Union Ballroom, used for major musical events dating back to the
1930s.
There was even a black-and-white booklet published to help promote
the entire weekend. Inside was a half-page photo of Commander Cody and Stevie
Wonder, but for Jimmy and the Javelins, there was a full-page spread.
A large newspaper ad was placed by UAC in the Michigan Daily, with copy
reading, “UAC and WCBN present A WEEKEND OF GOLDEN MEMORIES.” It then announced
the station’s plan to broadcast 24 consecutive hours of oldies, followed by the
All-Campus Sock Hop, featuring the Javelins and the Belts (with a Javelins
photo).
Jeff hosted a three-hour, late-night oldies radio show at WCBN,
which helped with the publicity.
“Maybe it was the radio station
connection with myself and the Prince, which somehow got us on the Homecoming
roster. The Daily ad might have been a ‘make good’ from UAC. Even though a big
photo of the Javelins was in the Homecoming program with ‘sock hop’ above the
picture, looking at the schedule of homecoming events on the inside front
cover, the Sock Hop is not listed at all. The ad may have been a way of
publicizing what was only semi-mentioned in the program.” – Jeff
---
We
had no clue as to what would happen, but we concocted some plans.
One
was the crowning of the first Homecoming “Queen” since 1957 (if I remember). Going
along with the theme, it went to the trashiest dressed girl.
By
the way, Seymour is still with us as the 85-year-old lives in Los Angeles and
heads a successful production company.
And
what a crowd it was! Somehow 5,000 party-goers jammed into that ballroom;
everywhere we looked there were nothing but students, trying their best to
dress like James Dean (“Rebel Without a Cause”) or Marlon Brando (“The Wild
One”). Stores reported empty shelves where Brylcreem, Wildroot or Tres Flores
Brilliantine was stocked all over Ann Arbor (as we discovered early on, Vitalis
did no good).
The
Homecoming Queen contest, from a field of five, was won by Jennifer McLogan,
who later became a television reporter in New York with WCBS.
Second
place went to Ann Cole, the daughter of legendary General Motors executive-engineer
Edward N. Cole. She showed up in a motorcycle get-up (body-hugging
neck-to-ankle leather) and tried to influence the audience by throwing
“cigarettes” to the crowd. Ann’s “interview” question was, “What was the most interesting thing you’ve ever done in the back seat of a car?” It was THAT kind of beauty pageant.
---
|
“The biggest thing we had going for us
at Homecoming is that our event was free,” Jeff remembered. “Plus we had built
up a certain degree of notoriety at our various dorm gigs in previous years.
It’s amazing … we were either ahead of the nostalgia craze, and helped create
it, or at least we were smart or lucky enough to jump on board.
“It’s incredible to consider the
changes in just a few years in Ann Arbor, and our role in that. When I was a
freshman in 1969, anti-war fervor was at its pitch, there were struggles over
race, and class (socio-economic, not 8 a.m. versus 10 a.m.). By the fall of
1972, things had changed so much we could even be Homecoming performers.
“Now we are having nostalgia for the
mock nostalgia we helped create! I do recall Prince saying to that crowd,
“You’re not the biggest crowd we’ve ever performed for, but you’re definitely
the best.” – Jeff
“I remember girls throwing underpants on stage. I
remember taking measurements to sew the guys’ (imitation) gold lame vests a
couple of weeks before. The Kid had to have a full vest, pulled overhead, not a
cardigan.
“Prince tapped out our entrance ‘The Stripper
drumbeat’ on the microphone when Chastity and the Belts made our way onto the
stage. I remember a lot of joint efforts in songs, when one of us would play
the girlfriend for a Javelin, or one of the guys would play a boyfriend for a
Belt.
“I remember Big Mamma bleaching brassy strands of
her real hair (far enough back and under so it couldn’t be seen in normal life)
while I wore a wig in a beehive and Chickie wearing a ratted up red haired
wig.” – Leslie Rogers Manix
“I received
an audio clip of the WCBN broadcast of the Union Ballroom Sock Hop. It’s only
about five minutes long, but ends with me screaming at the top of my lungs
“GREASED AND READY TO KICK ASS – JIMMY AND THE JAVELINS!” – Ron Hummeny
“The New York Times covered the sock hop and
interviewed my real parents. When asked about their daughter’s pseudonym, they
said, ‘Oh, Chastity ... at home we call her ‘Chas.’ They also used a pseudonym
... instead of using their real, unbelievable names (Eulalla and Will Rogers),
they were Myrna and Richard McFarlan.” – Leslie
“I used spray-on streaks; the
brassy-toned frosting was my civilian look. There were a few costume changes
and perhaps a Motown set. That’s all I’ve got; the hair spray fumes must have
prevented my memory neurons from firing. But if you can’t stand the grease, get
out of the frying pan.” – Susan Mickel
“I had more stuff in my hair than most people use
on an entire automobile; and those flammable lame´ vests.” – Mark Wachter
“I remember on that night how Big Jocko had women SCREAMING at the sight of him on stage, (wearing the skimpiest red trow), doing “Great Balls of Fire,” complete with emphatic pelvic thrusts at all the proper notes. It was his big solo number.
“Even when there was no performance, we
would hang together as much as possible. Once we boarded a U-M bus, headed to
North Campus, but driven by Mark/Jocko, we simply sat in the very back, chowing
down all the Omega pizza we could and laughing our heads off, driving Mark
crazy from the scent.
“I also think that as much fun as we
had, there was a certain degree of sadness, or at least wistfulness, knowing
that was our last show. My guess is we’d all do it again in a second if we
could.” – Jeff
---
We
wound up outdrawing BOTH Stevie
Wonder and Commander Cody. The Associated Press carried a story on its
nationwide tickers (published in the Detroit
Free Press and New York Times)
about this less-than-serious Homecoming crowning and event.
We flopped, literally, as one of us fell off
the small stage provided (a combination of small risers which were not secured
together, and had to go to the hospital for stitches. That audience didn’t get
the joke; those people thought we were legitimate.
“My wound was a three-inch gash over my eyebrow,
which was dutifully stitched up using no. 6 baling wire at University of
Michigan Hospital. I remember lying on the examination table in emergency as
the doctor looked down at my greased-up hair, my Notre Dame High letter
sweater, my leather pants and my Cuban heeled shoes with the gold lame accents
and said, ‘you just come from a hockey game, or what?’
“I had no idea hockey fans were so stylish.” – Ron
Later
in the spring of 1973 (at the end of regular classes), we held our “farewell”
concert at the same venue. It was one of the first activities ever to be taped
for the fledgling campus cable TV station.
Again,
for our final show (which started at 8 p.m. and lasted well past midnight), it
was a full house … until the end. Their energy, and ours, just ran out, which
was probably appropriate for what was offered.
Graduation
was taking its toll; like a Roman candle, our time in the spotlight fizzled
away – to be forgotten by succeeding generations.
I
remember sitting on the edge of the stage (as the rest of the group helped pack
up the equipment) and stared at the emptiness of the facility. My female compadre,
Leslie/Chastity, sat next to me and gave me a gentle hug, softly saying, “You
were great tonight.”
I
turned to her and responded, “I miss it already,” with a kind of chagrined
Charlie Brown smile.
---
We’ve
remained friends for all these years, although no reunion tour will ever be
planned. As said, we’ve become investment bankers and counselors, lawyers,
doctors and surgeons, professional assistants, research scientists, television
reporters and retired newspaper publishers. We have children and a few of us experience
the utter joy of grandparenthood.
Our
children have enjoyed long belly-laughs when viewing photos from our efforts –
mostly at the girls’ hairstyles and the boys’ greasy, cheesy looks before
anyone called themselves “The Fonz.”
And
… Michigan celebrated a happy Homecoming victory at Michigan Stadium, whipping
Minnesota 42-0 in a completely unmemorable contest. There were only 84,190 fans
at the game (I was there; I just don’t have a single memory of that game); the
smallest crowd of the 1972 season. I’d like to think that several thousand
students were MIA because of sock hop exhaustion.
We
reunited back in the early 80s at the Holiday Inn, did none of our old Javelin
routines but talked about it until the early hours of two mornings. Other than
a few individual meetings, that was the last time we’ve been together as a
group.