Growing up in the Era of Ali Part 3

After the Foreman fight,it seemed as if the public perception of Ali was changing. The Ali  haters seemed to be less vocal. In the ring he left little doubt that he was indeed "The Greatest  after beating Foreman and in little over a year later beating Joe Frazier again in the "Thrilla in Manilla"
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Earlier in that year of Ali-Frazier 3,we had witnessed the Fall of Saigon,perhaps more came to realize Ali's statements on the Vietnam War were right. I also believe another factor in the changing perception was those of us who grew up with Ali from childhood were now transitioning into adulthood. At the time of the Thrilla in Manila,I had just entered my twenties.

There were no cries of  "The anti-establishment Ali selling out"when he started appearing on commercials. Besides,where I lived at the time in Park Slope Brooklyn long before gentrification,when Ali declared "I don't want you living with roaches" while hawking D-Con,one still felt as if he was speaking to you because what building in Brookly at that time DIDN'T have a roach problem?

In the summer of 1977,during the New York City blackout I witnessed arson,looting,and the greatest breakdown of order I've ever experienced to date.It occured in the Park Slope neighborhood I was living in,Yet a few months later,when Muhammad Ali beat Earnie Shavers that same neighborhood broke out in a spontaneous demonstration of joy with strangers high fiving each other and passing each other on the streets with shouts of "Ali Ali Ali!"

By now the Muhammad Ali-Howard Cosell confrontations had become legendary.. In Brooklyn,there  was Michael Lanzillotta. He was a tremendous pianist and a great vocalist.The church group we were both part of had a business New Life Service Company. It specialized in vinyl and leather repair,mostly at car dealerships.

For all of Michael's talents elsewhere,a vinyl repairman he was not and neither was I thus we were teamed up together by the bosses in hopes that two people that sucked at it together would be better than two that sucked individually. We did manage to ruin (New York Yankees outfielder) Reggie Jackson's Mercedes seat once,but beyond that we continued to suck and as a result,we didn't make a lot of money at it  Michael and I did generally have a good time driving aroun


One of the things we do while driving around the Boroughs and Long Island,supposedly hustling up work was impersonations. Our best one clearly was our Ali-Cosell impersonation. We made money doing it once on a Brooklyn street corner and even produced a version acceptable to perform as part of a Sunday church service..

Michael Lanzillotta

By the time I moved to Denver in 1980,it was clear Ali was not the fighter he used to be. I couldn't bring myself to watch the Trevor Berbick and Larry Holmes fights. I preferred to remember him for the fighter he was from the time I was 9 years old..

1985...as I'm glancing through the pages of the (now defunct) Rocky Mountain News I notice an ad from ( the now defunct) Dave Cook's Sporting Goods Store in Downtown Denver. Muhammad Ali would be making an appearance!
I knew I had to meet him. At the same time I realized getting to meet him would not be an easy task imagining the large crowd likely to appear.
Step One: Buy his Autobiography The Greatest..figured Ali would be more inclined to sign something with his likeness on it. After stopping a few few bookstores with no luck,I came across a copy at a (now defunct) used bookstore on South Broadway Avenue.

Step Two: Buy a dark suit. Muhammad Ali's bodyguards always wore dark suits. I've always hated wearing suits.In the rare times I have worn them,it has usually been after a strong case of persuasion.Count this as one time where no persuasion was needed,and found a used dark suit that fit at a used clothing store on East Colfax Avenue.

Step Three: It's all about the Timing. I didn't want to arrive at Dave Cooks too early and possibly give away my plan, and yet arriving too late would be a mistake given the crowd.
There are days when everything works out the way you hoped,and on this day I arrived at Dave Cooks moments before Ali's bodyguards began to appear,and as Ali and his entourage entered,I merged with Ali's bodyguards as he moved from the rear of the basement to the front area where a stage was set up. After making a few comments about Sonny Liston,George Foreman and Sugar Ray Leonard and after making a comment about what an honor it was for us to be in his presence,he began to sign autographs.
I have long regarded his autograph as my most valuable possession

Adult Prologue: When she was growing up,one of my daughter's favorite activities was going to the movies. She hated that I found myself bored at some of her favorite movies,and trying to find a movie we would both enjoy was often an exercise in futility. The one movie we did agree upon,albeit for different reasons was Will Smith's portrayal of Ali. I went to the movie prepared to hate it,but came away impressed. Apparently so was Ali.
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It's often said so and so is a "product of his/her generation. I for one feel privileged to have grown up in the era of Ali.

ALI ALI ALI!

Growing up in the Era of Ali Part 2

At the time of the first Ali-Frazier fight,I was attending a small predominantly white prep school. I was one of ten black students and one of them was my brother. By that time Ali had refused to be drafted,gotten the Supreme Court to rule in his favor and had begun his comeback in the ring,first by beating one 'Great White Hope" in Jerry Quarry.

By that time,I had involved myself in the anti-war Presidential campaign of Eugene McCarthy and had been accused by my mom of being a hippie. A lot of hippies could have cared less about Ali's boxing career,but his anti war stance and willingness to stick it to "the man" made Ali a countercultural hero.  By that time,my younger brother had spent time at the Black Muslim mosque established by Ali's original mentor Malcolm X as well as the Hartford headquarters of the Black Panthers.  In our debates with my Mom,from the Joe Louis era,a Johnson-Humphrey Democrat and an active member of mainstream civil rights organizations,my brother would repeat the Ali quote:

"The Draft is about White People sending Black People to fight Yellow People to protect the country they stole from the Red People".

My brother and I had very different temperments and sometimes diffrent opinions but we both agreed Muhammad Ali  was the greatest..
By rhat time,my mom would agree that Ali was "pretty" but often would state aloud "I wish he would just shut his mouth"

It was for that wish to have Ali shut up as well as his Vietnam stance that had most all the white students and a couple outspoken teachers at school in Joe Frazier's corner. It seemed like for this fight,Joe Frazier had become the de facto "Great White Hope". In reality,he was far from it,and a little known fact is that during Ali's exile from boxing,Joe Frazier kept a nearly broke Ali from going under. Joe Frazier's selling point for them? Joe Frazier is a quiet. boxer

Mom wasn't about to let my brothers and I to attend the closed circuit theater showing of the fight thus we were relegated to radio accounts of the fight.

It hurt when Muhammad Ali lost and it was hard dealing with some of the comments in school the day after the fight. After school,it was best to take solace with longtime neighborhood North End friends.


...Fast Forward to January 1974

I had recently become the first freshman student ever elected to the Student Assembly at Alaska Methodist University (Now Alaska Pacific University) located in Anchorage. While I had clear ideas relating to the campus role in shaping a changing Alaska,(Pipeline construction era),I was elected  to the Assembly by conducting a campaign primarily aimed at the many potheads on campus as well as students who were generally indifferent about student government.. My first act  as an Assemblyman.was to open up the Student government office so that students,many who didn't own radios could listen to Ali-Frazier 2. Discovered that Muhammad Ali was a hero to the Yupik,Tlingit,and Athabascan as well.

October 1974

I could have seen the closed circuit showing of the Ali-Foreman fight had I remained in Anchorage.A friend who worked as an usher at the theater had promised to let me in..however personal issues found me back home in Hartford. My brother was also home,taking a break from Howard University,thus all three Daniels brothers once again found themselves gathered around the radio for the fight. We were upstairs,Mom was watching TV downstairs. Just before the fight began,I had gone downstairs to visit her when a bulletin came across stating that former President Richard Nixon was in critical condition due to phlebitis.
I had a sense Foreman may be another Sonny Liston,but didn't want to state it for fear of jinxing Ali.
When, in the early rounda,when Ali was leaning against the ropes,taking Foreman's punches,one brother left the room afraid of a result and feeling similar to that of Ali-Frazier 1.
Then it happened..Ali knocked Foreman out. Hartford Connecticut is thousands of miles away from Kinshash Zaire,but the excitement and noise coming from the Daniels brothers could have easily matched the buzz coming from Kinshasha.
Mom came running upstairs to quiet us down. She was first greeted by me shouting "Ali! Ali! Ali!!"
My brother's last words? "On this day when the White Man's President is down,the Black Man's Champion has risen!"

In the years since,I've had my share of troubles,some of them rather serious. Life can throw some serious punches at times.I've used the Ali-Foreman fight as a means of dealing with those struggles.
When life would be kicking my ass, I'd picture myself as Muhammad Ali up against the ropes enduring George Foreman's best punches before coming back and delivering a knockout blow. Ali Bomaye.

More to come..

Growing Up in the Era of Ali Part 1

I became a fan of Muhammad Ali in 1964,shortly after he beat Sonny Liston for the Heavyweight Championship. I was 9 years old,and then many knew him as Cassius Clay.

He called himself "The Greatest" and because of that proud boast, there were many that didn't like him... including my Mom.Joe Louis was the Heavyweight Champion of the 1940's generation,and my Mom was part of that generation. She told me the story of meeting Joe Louis at a segregated Washington D.C. park. Joe Louis may have internally felt the indignation of walking through a segregated park,but gentlemanly Joe Louis was not one to make an issue of it.

My Mom felt it was wrong to be that boastful,but in the eyes of a 9 year old boy,if Mom said something was bad,it had to be good.
His conversion to the Nation of Islam created ripples in my neighborhood because at the same time, Malcolm X was attempting to set up a mosque in this largely black middle class enclave in Hartford Connecticut's predominantly black North End.

Though it would upset my Mom,I began to call myself the Greatest too,and in 1964 while in 3rd and 4th grades,it seemed as if Ali's spirit was protecting me too.
In 3rd and 4th grades,it was a daily occurance in school to be harrassed and teased due to my thick lips.It didn't help matters that I was a terrible athlete or a top notch student and that sense only escalated  after the Kennedy Assassination,when I would declare my aspiration to become President of the United States.That aspiration was considered by many of my classmates as crazy at best,(because no black man could be President) or "acting white". at its cruelest.

There were some kids in the neighborhood that were going to put me in my place. On an afternoon after school on my way to a Cub Scouts meeting,I was approached by three boys asking me if I would play Muhammad Ali fight with them.
At home,my brothers and I would play Muhammad Ali.The only requirement was that I,as the oldest brother got to be Muhammad Ali. That never fared well for my younger brothers,and especially didn't fare well for them if I happened to be bothered by something they did earlier in the day.

Facing these boys would be another matter however. I sensed these boys wanted to hurt me based on the whispering and laughing they were doing on the side.

Their biggest mistake was allowing me to be Muhammad Ali. I can't say I wasn't scared,but the odds were agaisnt Ali in all realms of life as well.
On someone's front yard,the "fight" began One kid out of the three was chosen as my opponent.Based on how he moved,it seemed liked he knew how to fight.

He swung. I moved to block his swing. In my awkward motion,my left elbow caught the kid in the eye and he ran off screaming and crying. His buddies seemed shocked.


I was never teased or bothered by those boys again. It should be remembered that Muhammad Ali had his toughest fighta against left handers like Ken Norton.
In 1964,it was virtually unheard of for a black man to speak confidently of himself or to stand up for oneself.
I began to learn in my own way that if it was good enough for Muhammad Ali not to back down and to stand up for himself,it was good enough for me.

More to come..


 

David's Original Fantasy Game

Those who know me now might find it hard to believe,but there was a time when I knew little about and could care less about baseball.

The change occurred while in Miss Amato's third grade when the first time I hit the ball in a gym class game,I ran first to third base bringing ridicule and humiliation upon myself. A few games later,I found myself being escorted home by my gym teacher after striking out with the bases loaded and two outs in the final inning.It was for my own protection after all the threats from my teammates/classmates.

That was in 1964. In 1965,I discovered the New York Mets then known as the clown princes of baseball and my love of baseball began.

I  would spend a great deal of my free time alone as a kid. That despite having two brothers and a neighborhood full of children my age.
Spending time alone allowed me to read,listen to the music I wanted to listen to,sometimes write,and on spring weekends there was the New York Mets to watch on TV,but most of  all, it allowed me to create..imagine.
One of the things I imagined was my own baseball league. I had my own National and American Leagues. I still remember the teams.. New York Owls,San Francisco Gorillas,Buffalo Royal Kings. There were franchises located in Hawaii ( Islanders),Maine (Lobsters) and South Dakota (Prairiemen)

Hawaii Islanders wore bright green uniforms and the Virginia Rebels wore uniforms eerily similar to those worn by the Confederate Army,however the Rebels' manager was black long before Frank Robinson took a helm in that other major league.

My league expanded into San Diego in 1967,the MLB's Padres didn't come into existence till 1969,and 1970's expansion Miami team was named...you guessed it- Marlins!

Every team had a fully stocked roster. I'd have the names written down. Some names were those from that other league,others came from book titles,movies

There were various ways to play the game. One manner involved using that league's box scores.Another involved matching lineups on the televised Game of the Week.

The third way was to actually play the game myself.In this way,I got to be the play by play man,the organ player and the crowd.

American League games were played in our damp,dark unfinished basement. No one was going to bother me there.
National League games were played in my backyard where depending on the game,my Dog Gyp could serve as an infielder,outfielder or the crowd.

Bats could be sticks,wiffle ball bats or wooden ones with balls being rolled up socks (My mom always wondered why my socks vanished ) wiffle balls or rocks,and yes on a couple occasions,neighbor windows were busted.

My league expanded to three divisions before MLB and had a wild card team first.
Fantasy Baseball before Fantasy Baseball..

In Honor of National Beer Day

I was 4 or 5 when I remember tasting beer for the first time. The story goes that my Dad would give each of his children a sip when we’d reach our first birthdays,however I don’t remember that.

Dad had hosted a party the night before. I remember hearing all the noise. My brothers and I were supposed to be asleep,but how can a kid sleep when it seems like everyone is having fun,and us kids are being kept away from it?

The next morning,things were quiet at the house. I was the first person in the household to wake up . I knew there were goodies provided at the party,and one could only hope there might be a few leftovers either left out or in the refridgerator,so I immediately headed downstairs from my bedroom.

What I encountered were lots of empty cans. Schlitz cans. Some cans were smashed,but some were upright,and from checking some of the cans out,some had plenty of Schlitz left in them.. I had tasted soda out of cans,and I liked soda,so maybe there was something to beer?

I took a sip out of one of the cans,then another sip from another can. The only cans I didn’t like were the cans where I tasted cigarette butts too.

This stuff was amazing and something I shouldn’t keep to myself..Ran back upstairs.

“ Howie! You have to come downstairs and try this beer! It’s GOOD!”

Maybe I should not have been so loud ‘cause Howie and I never got back downstairs Mom and Dad woke up fast and banned us to our rooms just like at the party.

There was about a 12 year hiatus between that beer and my next one,but the hiatus was broken with the very same beer sampled that morning.

Happy National Beer Day.

Rastaman on the Statehouse Floor

"I am not a politician... I only suffer the consequences." Peter Tosh

January 4th happens to be my birthday. Some birthday events through the years become memorable,like when my mom held my 10th birthday party in a Downtown Hartford Italian Restaurant known to be a hangout for Hartford's bigwigs,The Mayor of Hartford was a guest at that birthday party. There have been birthday events in my later years have been noteworthy for various reasons as well.

Many other birthdays pass by as unspectacular and as mundane as any other day.

In the mid 90's I was living in the Capitol Hill neighborhood of Denver Colorado. My play Malcolm X Meet Peter Tosh had finished a successful run at the Mercury Cafe Theater and was preparing to have a continued run at the Bug Theater. In addition,I was in the process of writing my second play,I Edgar Hoover.

..Had a morning routine of making breakfast,then going over to the coffee shop located in the natural food store called Alfalfa's (A Whole Foods resides there now)

At Alfalfa's, in addition to enjoying the morning coffee there,I'd engage in various topical conversations with assorted "regulars" who would also gather there before I'd head back to my Capitol Hill apartment to smoke copious amounts of marijuana before getting on with the rest of the day.

My birthday was no different except I had nothing scheduled for the day. Perfect time so I thought to pack a couple buds,my pipe,head towards Colfax Avenue and "let the wind take me where it will"

At the Mercury's run of my play,I portrayed the character of Peter Tosh. Tosh,like many Rastas was often seen in a military camouflaged jacket with one's head adorned with a tam featuring the Rasta colors of Red,Gold,and Green. I was often seen in the same attire,and that was the case when I began my walk towards Colfax.

Initially,I thought maybe I'd end up browsing the aisles at Capitol Hill Books or maybe see what interesting vinyl may be found at Jerry's Record Exchange,besides there was always an interesting side show on Colfax Avenue day or night.

Instead,I ended up at the Colorado State Capitol to visit my friend Penn Pfiffner.

Penn was a State Representative representing portions of Lakewood Colorado,a suburb of Denver.Before serving in the Colorado House,Penn had been Chairman of the Colorado Libertarian Party. Because of the demographics of the district and the difficulties involved in mounting a third party campaign,Penn ran and won running as a Republican.

Back in 1987,Penn and I were roommates at a Seattle hotel as we were both attending the Libertarian National Convention where a Presidential candidate was to be chosen. Penn was there as a supporter of former Texas Congressman Ron Paul, I was there as a supporter of American Indian Movement activist Russell Means.Penn would attend all the convention events wearing suit and tie. I would be in more casual wear. Penn would attend the various workshops focused on economics while I'd be hanging in marijuana filled rooms with the likes of Karl Hess,Robert Anton Wilson and Dr.Demento When the formal events ended for the evening,Penn would retire to his hotel room as to get an early start to the next day's sessions. Me?? I had to hope I didn't disturb Penn too much when I'd stumble into the room at 3 or 4 am after getting a healthy dose of Seattle's nightlfe.

Later I'd tell Penn there's a reason he ended up as a legislator and me a writer..

I didn't expect Penn to be in his office when I wandered into the Capitol,but there he was.

As we chatted,I wondered if could detect the sweet,dank aroma coming from my pocket. I could,but if he did,he certainly didn't say anything. He had previously attended Malcolm X Meet Peter Tosh and I recalled him exclaiming with a wide smile how it was the best show he had seen in years.

I did not expect what came next. Penn invited me to come with him on the floor of the Colorado Statehouse!

As we entered,I half jokingly said to Penn "Appearing with me like this could end your political career"

Undaunted,Penn introduced me to the various legislators on the floor,and recommended to them that they attend my play.

The next time Penn ran for re-election,he was challenged in a primary by another Republican and lost.

On the Statehouse floor was a State Rep from Southern Colorado known for his activity with "Religious Right" and militia groups.

As Penn was raving about my work and as I glanced at this other Representative,the words of Bob Marley came to mind..

"Soon we'll find out who is the real revolutionary"

Cancer through the Rearview Mirror..

"To hell with your cancer. I’ve been living with cancer for the better part of a year. Right from the start, it’s a death sentence. That’s what they keep telling me. Well, guess what? Every life comes with a death sentence, so every few months I come in here for my regular scan, knowing full well that one of these times – hell, maybe even today – I’m gonna hear some bad news. But until then, who’s in charge? Me. That’s how I live my life."- Breaking Bad's Walter White

The first chapter in this journey is still vivid.. the early symptoms that I would ignore until I couldn't any longer...the shortness of breath and the dizziness..the feeling I had wasted a doctor's time when nothing was said immediately afterwards when I finally did break down to see a doctor..waiting for Mitch in the McDonald's parking lot after missing my bus and feeling too cold to wait for another one.. the phone call while in Mitch's truck,changing the destination of the ride from my apartment to the Emergency Room..the look of concern on Mitch's face as he's contacting family and friends while an oxygen mask is slapped on me..nurses bringing other nurses into my hospital room.. "He walked into the Emergency Room can you believe that?" then getting the word a day or so afterwards "You have Cancer"

I tell the complete story of that episode and more in my one man play "Cancer,Peace,Love,and Assorted Realities"

It's been six years now since I got that phone call. Doctors have been saying for the past five years that I'm in remission now,I don't feel anything now like I felt then,but still for whatever reasons,the doctors won't declare me cancer free yet.

6 Years later and about the only time I think about cancer now is those couple times a year when I have to do the scans and  visit with the oncologist or at the anniversary of the diagnosis.

Is it like it never happened? Not on your life. Since the days of my initial diagnosis,I have had friends who have passed on due to the disease,and some of the very people who gave me a hand during my early moments have since have been diagnosed with various forms of cancer themselves.There's an instant recognition that takes place with those who get diagnosed,and the "Why them and not me" question arises when someone passes away.

I think everyone in the course of one's life, experiences events,whether tragic or merely momentous that alters one's perceptions on it. As I begin to look at  the cancer experience from the view of the rearview mirror,it becomes one of a handful of events that helped shape my perceptions.I never let cancer define me.

During the days of my initial treatment,I was introduced to,and became an immediate fan of the TV series Breaking Bad.  I made an immediate connection with its main character,Walter White,in large part due to the fact that he was dealing with his own cancer diagnosis. Walter White in the end lived a life that I would never hope to imitate but in the act of doing the things he did,he would describe himself as being alive.

Having a sense of mortality does push one to live more freely and fully doesn't it? Or as Bob Marley would say "Wake up and Live"