June '10 Entertainment—Little Anthony's This and That Column

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Home From Sea And Back On Dry Land

M
y wife Linda and I had a super marvelous time at sea with some of the most talented people that I have had the pleasure working with, namely Frankie Avalon, Bobby Rydell, Lesley Gore, Lou Christie and Herb Reed, the last surviving member of the original Platters. We left port on the 13th of May and returned on the 17th. If I have any complaint about the cruise, it was it was too darn short a time.

Most cruises usually go out for 7–10 days and this cruise was at best, half that. The cruise, as I mentioned in previous columns was called the “Malt Shop Cruise” and in the theme regard, it was right on the money. It was a nostalgic-themed cruise and that has its own appeal. With that in mind, you can envision the passengers and their respective ages. It was a way to recapture a time since gone-by but hardly forgotten.

Bobby Rydell

I’ve been on lots of cruises and have journeyed into the sea in boats of all shapes and sizes. Let me explain: when you go on a cruise it is all about being social. I have to say the people on the “Malt Shop Cruise” were the warmest and most sincere people I have ever spent sea time with. We also formed a one-to-one bond where they were not just an audience to be entertained, but “friends” of ours. They were re-experiencing an era and we, the performers, the soundtrack of their lives.

It only goes to prove just how special the ’50s and ’60s were in their lives till this day. The Imperials and I are honored to be a part of that experience. This isn’t a revelation really but this cruise re-enforced something, I, at times, forget. The people on the “Malt Shop Cruise” gave it a new meaning.

You see, I like to fish and I have continued to fish whenever I can nowadays. I used to fish with my buddies in Brooklyn and now, over 50 years later I find it so enjoyable and relaxing. I have fished in the Atlantic and the Pacific, been on all kinds of vessels and dealt with good and bad weather. I know what “rock the boat” means and through the years built up immunity to being sea sick. Or so I thought.

I guess there is a first time for everything. The first night, the sea was rocking and swaying the cruise liner and the next morning, a number of people were feeling “strange.” I made up my mind that I would get through this. I was not going to give in or maybe, I should say “give up.”

When I got up in the morning, I was feeling something I had never experienced before. In all my years on the sea, I have never experienced the dreaded “sea sickness.” One of my personal therapies is to walk—it must be the New Yorker in me. So, I headed to the ship’s gym and hit the tread-mill. Things were starting to improve. The more I walked, the better I felt. I also used every trick in the book like not looking at the horizon and taking multiple deep breaths. I even ate some breakfast and it worked like a charm.

Some of the performers did not fair as well as I did but I don’t want to embarrass anyone by name. I can tell you about our guitarist Dale Herr’s girlfriend though. She was really sick for almost the whole trip. The ship’s pharmacy salvaged her cruise experience by supplying her with a “sea sick patch.” That worked for her thankfully and at the very least, she was able to enjoy part of the trip. One of the worst things possible is to be sick on a vacation—your “down time” becomes time in “sick bay.”

The band was absolutely great and so was the theater we performed in. The sound system was so much better than I anticipated. Often, cruise sound systems are lacking but the Carnival “Malt Shop Cruise” people made sure it was top drawer. The days flew by and like I said earlier, it was too short but it was sweet. The guys and I had the best time possible and our performances echoed it. I look forward to heading out on a theme sea cruise again and if you haven’t tried it, please do yourself a favor, go get your “sea legs.”

The Gulf Oil Slick’s Muck and Politics

If you read the previous column, one of my concerns was the BP oil gusher. I got to see the damage Gulf Oil Slick upfront and personal and it wasn’t a pretty sight. I hope and I pray that this “eco-disaster” will soon be under control and the damage assessed and remedied to some degree. A gushing leak a mile under the ocean spewing oil in the hundreds and hundreds of gallons is beyond comprehension.

I am also bothered by certain politicians who seem to “politicizing the impending disaster.” They blabber about stopping off-shore drilling and it strikes me they should be saying, how did this happen—let’s correct it. They are throwing the “baby out with the bath water” and I wonder if they care about what is right.

If you are in a car accident, minor or major, do we stop driving? Or better yet, when you are learning to ride a horse and you are thrown, do you shoot the horse? How about if a plane crashes, do we stop flying? The answer is, flat out, no we don’t. We analyze the accident or the crash and find out what went wrong. We correct it. We learn from the mistakes made.

President Obama admitted in his press conference that this is his problem to deal with. As President, he didn’t cause this (nor Bush for Katrina). He took on the responsibility and looked it in the eye. Is it really the President’s fault? No, but if he doesn’t step up to the plate, who will? This tragedy is not a “political football” and to be used as such, really bothers me. Sure pass the buck and meantime, the disaster spreads inland. This is a tragic accident that needs to fixed first, learned from and then, move on. Isn’t that the American way—well that is my opinion. Let’s hope that “oil’s well ends with a shut well.”

As I understand it, BP is only responsible for $750 million and an added $1,000,000,000 in damages. BP makes over $95 million a day so this money is chump change to them. Is the cost going to exceed that? You can bet on that twenty times over.

Good Old Imperial Father’s Day Tale

June 20th is Father’s Day and I thought this would be a good time to tell a story that happened so long ago. We were just forming what is now “Little Anthony & The Imperials”—we didn’t even have our name then.

We were still in high school and Clarence Collins was grounded by his Dad for an entire year—yes a whole year. We pleaded with his Dad time and time again but he would not move an inch. Clarence was not allowed out except to go to school, his job or run errands.

We were desperate and we had to rehearse the group. How could we possibly accomplish anything? You know when you are pushed against the wall sometimes things have a way of turning “straw into gold.”

Finally, we were able to “rehearse” by standing in the courtyard while Clarence sat on the windowsill of his family’s apartment in the Ft. Greene projects. We were floors below Clarence but somehow, it worked. You could call it our ”50s fire escape rehearsals.” The ends do justify the means.

Clarence’ Dad did not budge at all and he kept his “grounded edict” for an entire year. At the time, it was beyond “teen belief.” Today, I fondly remember it and so does Clarence. His Dad passed some time back and yet this “Father’s Day Tale” lives on. Happy Father’s Day to all and this little story is just my way of adding to the celebration.