The Wall

People Who Died, September, 2024

Hope September was a good month for you all, even if it wasn’t for those listed below.  I got to write some of this dreck on the shores of Lake McDonald in Glacier National Park which is about as pretty a place as this world has to offer.  Try it out one time if you have never been. Just remember to bring or buy bear spray for when you arrive as bears will be bears.  The party is over and let’s get to the goings-on.

James Earl Jones, the voice of Darth Vader; Pharaoh, the Hanna Barbera character; Mufasa, the Disney Character in the “Lion King;”as well as some voice work for the “Simpsons;” and most notably for me, the voice of CNN (as in “This is CNN”), has been silenced at  93.  Interesting thing about the voice of Darth Vader, although he voiced the character from the start, he did not get credit until the third movie because he believed that a voice was part of special effects and should not get film credit.  Finally, by the third movie he was convinced to be added to the credits.  While Morgan Freeman may be considered the voice of God, James Earl Jones, is pretty much the voice of everything else, with apologies to Mel Blank who toiled in a different genre.  Jones was not always the booming eloquent voice we knew.  Born of parents who ultimately left him to be raised by grandparents, one of whom was a vile racist, the trauma of it all brought out such a bad stutter in the young Mr. Jones that he stopped talking altogether and in primary school communicated via written notes.  Ultimately, a high school teacher took note of his poetry and coaxed him into reciting a poem each day for the class which helped him to overcome the impediment for the most part. He attended The University of Michigan on a scholarship studying pre-med. He joined the drama club there and eventually switched his major to drama.  An ROTC student, he eventually enrolled in the army finding the structure to his liking.  He had an aptitude for cold weather and with his battalion, he trained in the mountains of Colorado.   He left the army as a First Lieutenant and moved to New York to pursue acting.  He studied at the American Theatre Wing and Lee Strasburg’s Actor’s Studio while supporting himself as a janitor. Let’s just say it worked out.  He appeared in some 90 television series (thankfully, never the “Love Boat”), 120 films and had 27 roles on Broadway plays.  According to his New York Times Obit, he once appeared in 18 plays in 30 months.  He appeared regularly in Joe Papp’s Shakespeare in the Park.   He was one of the first African American actors to have a regular role on a Soap Opera, and appeared in many works that championed African Americans.  Although not especially vocal in the civil rights movement, he said that Malcom X was a hero and that he believed his body of work, placing African Americans in a positive light, furthered the Black cause and he was right.  Denzel Washington referred to Mr. Jones as a “hero,” stating further, “He was everything to me as a budding actor.  He was who I wanted to be.”    Mr. Jones received an Honorary Academy Award for his body of work; two Tony’s as well as a Tony for Lifetime Achievement, two Emmy’s, a Grammy, and countless other awards including being awarded the National Medal of Arts by President George Bush.  In 2022, the Cort Theatre on Broadway was renamed the James Earl Jones Theatre.  Presently, the “Heart of Rock N’ Roll,” the jukebox presentation of Huey Lewis and the News is playing at the theatre.  Clearly, while the place is named for him, he didn’t have a say in what is put on there.   

As the Met’s vie for a wildcard slot in the playoffs [spoiler alert, they are in], key members of the miracle Mets of 69 are leaving us.  This year alone we lost Bud Harrelson, Jerry Grote, and Jim McAndrew.  Unfortunately, we can add Ed Kranepool to that list.  He died this month at 79.  My mom was a rabid Mets fan and Kranepool was her favorite.  Early in his career, as many players of that era did, in order to augment their meager salaries, he made an appearance at a local appliance store – Stevens.  Being the mother of four boys, she dutifully went to Stevens to get an autographed picture of the Mets first basemen and that was it.  From then on no one could move Kranepool off her favorite player of all-time list, although, at times, Seaver could come close.  And she was not alone.  Kranepool, a Bronx native, was signed by the Mets when he was 17.  He was called up to the majors in 1962, and shuttled back and forth between the big club and the minors for a time. In May of 1964, he earned the full-time first base position and stayed there for quite some time.  While Kranepool first used number 21, when the Mets acquired Warren Spahn from Milwaukee, Kranepool gave the number to the veteran and took the number 7, which we are all more familiar with on his back.   The number suited him and he made the All-Star team in both 64 and 65.  But it was 69 that he and his teammates will always be remembered for.  Kranepool’s bat, at key points during the ‘69 season, was key to their success.  After an 11 game win streak, the Met’s found themselves in second place behind the Cubs.  In a memorable game in July, the Mets were playing the Cubs and Kranepool started the scoring with a home run off Cubs ace, Ferguson Jenkins.  The Cubs went on to a three-to-one lead heading to the bottom of the ninth.  I was at that game with my friend Chris and the guy next to us kept yelling “one-two-three inning Furgy.”  Fortunately, it was anything but a one-two-three inning with Cleon Jones scoring the winning run on Kranepool’s walk-off single. I recall yelling over and over: “one-two-three inning Furgy,” in zealous retaliation.  Hey, I was only 13 at the time.  Anyway, that is the stuff that makes a hero to a young kid.   The Mets went on to win it all in one of the most memorable runs in baseball history.  Kranepool, however, faltered the next year and was once again sent to the minors.  He bounced back in 71 and had, for him, a career year batting .280 with 14 home runs and 58 RBI’s.  He also batted .300 in both 73 and 74 but was not a full-time player at that point.  He retired in 79.  When the Met’s were sold to the Wilpons, he tried to put together a consortium to buy the team and was critical of the Wilpons’ tenure as owners – not publicly, but rather privately to their faces, which got him estranged from the team for a time.   In 2017, Kranepool announced that both his kidneys were failing and in 2018, the Wilpons invited him to throw out the first ball in a game and all was forgiven.  He ultimately had a kidney transplant but father time caught up to him as it has done with too many of his teammates.  An objective view of his career would categorize it as mediocre but to a 13 year-old kid who witnessed an uncharacteristic walk-off single against the hated Cubs and a world Champion team, he is a legend.  The same goes for my mom who had her own reasons.

Okay, once again, MLB has blown it because they didn’t put Pete Rose, who died at 83, into the Hall of Fame while he was alive.  He will get there given the steroidal inductions and the fact that MLB is firmly behind sports betting.   I mean Shohei Ohtani skirted disaster and he hasn’t amassed the stats Rose did and may very well never.  Admittedly, Rose was hard-headed and to put it kindly, evasive about his gambling, but it was that mindset that made Charlie Hustle as great as he was.  No one can doubt that on the field he was as fierce a competitor as there was.  I am old but not quite old enough to have seen Ty Cobb play but I suspect he was the closest thing I will ever see to him.  Rose amassed massive stats. Four thousand two hundred and fifty six hits. You got it; 4,256.  More than anyone by far. He got on base more than any other player (5,929), and he was sturdy, playing in more  games (3,852)  than any other player.  He had the most singles of any hitter( 3,215) and the second most doubles.  He was the Rookie of the year when he came up in 63 and ten years later was the MVP of the league.  He won the batting title three times and batted over .300 in fifteen seasons.  When he was 37 he went on a 44 game hitting streak, the longest in the National League and second only to the great Joe DiMaggio.  He didn’t marry Marilyn Monroe so he is a really distant second.  He played on 17 All-Star games at five different positions.  Those stats are all you need to know about the guy and he had to pay admission to the HOF to see other, lesser players. He bled Cincinnati red even though he played five years for the Phillies and part of a year with the now defunct Montreal Expos.  I was at the game where he got into it with Buddy Harrelson and the Mets fans were enraged.  Rose was on second base when the last out was to be made and I was shocked that the Reds manager, Sparky Anderson, didn’t take Rose off the field. I had to respect him for that.  I have to respect him for a lot of things.  Not the kind of guy I might want to have a beer with but if hard-nosed competition is what you are looking for, he was your man.  Just ask Ray Fosse, the catcher he ran over in an All-Star game to score a run.  I know All-Star games back then meant something but not that much.  Fosse was never the same after that hit. I suspect that a lot of people have a lot of Pete Rose stories.  So, given that he chose to die only hours before my deadline, I will leave you all to conjure up some great stories.  What I will say is that he was a baseball player, not a boy scout.  And as a baseball player he was one of the greatest.  He should be in the Hall of Fame and eventually, MLB will get its head out of its ass and put him in.  I would bet the house on it.  The sad part is that the guy who would love to see that the most, Pete Rose, won’t be there.        

The 1972 Miami Dolphin team that is the only NFL team to have an undefeated season, was hard to hate and great to watch.  It was not the quarterback that made them great but rather the offensive triumvirate of Larry Csonka, Jim Kiick and Mercury Morris.  Mr. Morris, (first name Eugene), the Miami running back (and kick returner), and three time Pro-Bowler (out of the eight years he played), died at 77.  He made it to three Superbowl’s, winning the top prize in 73 and 74.  In the undefeated 72 season, both Morris and Csonka gained over 1,000 yards, becoming the first teammates ever to accomplish such a feat.  Morris scored 12 touchdowns.  Kiick was no slouch either that year, gaining over 800 yards with 10 touchdowns.  That explained why even though their quarterback, Bob Griese, went down with a broken ankle in game five, they were able to keep winning and remain undefeated.  With those three, no quarterback had to throw a pass.  Rather, he just needed to decide which of the three greats to hand the ball to, and they did the rest, scampering the team to an average 27.5 points per game.    Back in those days, before the NFL turned the game into what is becoming touch football (at least where the quarterback is involved), you really took hits and Morris (who, according to his New York Times obit, got the nickname Mercury because of his “quicksilver unpredictability on the field”), got his clock punched more than he should have which led to injuries, head and neck pain and ultimately drug use.  He was convicted in 1982 of cocaine distribution and sentenced to 20 years.  After three years in prison, the conviction was overturned on evidentiary grounds and he accepted a plea to time-served.  After prison, he dabbled in acting but largely became a motivational speaker.  He certainly had a story to tell.  Unfortunately, he will no longer be able to engage in the yearly champagne toast with his 1972 teammates, each year when they remain the only undefeated team in the NFL.

Dikembe Mutombo, the 7’2” showman from the Democratic Republic of the Congo (a/k/a Zaire), who played a great game of basketball, died at 58.  Before you conspiracy theorists attribute his short life to shenanigans, it was, unfortunately, brain cancer that did him in.  Mutombo didn’t pick up basketball until adolescence.  He went to Georgetown on an academic scholarship wanting to become a doctor.  He played intramural basketball his first year but decided to drop his arduous major and play for John Thompson’s Hoyas.  He wasn’t very good at first but he dedicated himself to getting better, working with Georgetown alumnus and Knick’s great  Patrick Ewing.  He got better than better.  He played in the NBA for six teams over an 18 year career.  He played on eight All-Star teams.  He played first for the Denver Nuggets for five years and then to the Atlanta Hawks. He played for a year with the 76’ers, the Nets and the Knicks before finishing out with the Houston Rockets.   He was known for his finger wag and occasional malaprops.  He described Shaq’s opposition in the playoffs as “a walk in the cake.”  What he perhaps should be best known for is his philanthropy, especially in his home country.  As he gave up is dream of being a doctor for basketball, he directed a lot of his off-court efforts and his retirement to providing access to health care for those less fortunate than he.   He started the Dikembe Mutombo Foundation whose mandate is to improve health, education and quality of life for those in his home Country.  He also did a lot of work for Special Olympics and UNICEF.  He was a great basketball player but even a better human being. We need more like him.       

Forget In-and-Out Burgers or Culvers.  One of the things the Northeast is seriously in need of is a bunch of Waffle Houses.  Not sure many Northeasterners would be ready for them but to me, the Waffle House is a special place.  Open 24/7/365 (more on this a bit later), you can get a great Southern breakfast anytime.  It is not the place to go if you are looking for plush and high-brow, but if you want a solid meal (especially breakfast) for a reasonable price, Waffle House should be your jam (as they say).  Where else can you get the All-Star breakfast, consisting of a waffle (of your choice), bacon (or sausage), eggs, toast, and grits (what other side would you want?)?  No angioplasty with that.  And when I say they are always open, they are always open.  Disaster responders have long used the Waffle House as a gauge of how bad a disaster is.  They refer to it as the Waffle House Index.  If the Waffle House is open with a full menu, the disaster is not bad at all.  If there is a limited menu, then you have had a serious disaster.  If the Waffle House is closed, you are in deep shit.  FEMA uses the Waffle House Index unofficially, but it is a real thing.  Why am I blathering on about Waffle Houses?  First, they are cherished, and you haven’t truly experienced America until you have dined there, and second, Walt Ehmer, the CEO who steered the company through the Pandemic died at 58 and before you go there, although he spent more time in his restaurants than he did in his office, it wasn’t the menu items of which he partook liberally that did him in.  High cholesterol wasn’t his problem.  Ehmer was born in New Jersey (so explain why we don’t have a WH) , but moved to Georgia as a kid.    He rose through the ranks and became the CEO in 2012 and Chairman of the Board in 2022.  Illness caused him to step down.  During the Pandemic, when many states (25) Waffle House operated in were in lockdown, he insisted that his restaurants stay open. Commenting to Business Insider on his Pandemic decisions, he noted that  “none of the people who make decisions to shut down businesses, and impact people’s livelihood’s, ever have their own livelihoods impacted.” He concluded:  “We’re trying to provide reliable careers and jobs for people.”   He believed that the company employees were family and he led from the front. 

I love action-packed detective novels and Nelson DeMille, who left us this month at 81, was up there with the best of ‘em.  “Charm School,” was the first book I read of his and I went on to read most of what he wrote, especially the John Corey series where the hero was a retired New York City cop who worked as a contractor for the Joint Terrorism Task Force and generally loathed FBI agents.   DeMille didn’t start out as a writer.  After a stint in the Army and a tour of Vietnam (for which he was awarded a Bronze Star), he got a degree at Hofstra (the Harvard of Long Island), and went to work as an insurance fraud investigator.  He wrote part time and was able to sell his stories. Eventually, he moved on to novels and hit big with “By the Rivers of Babylon.”  After that he was delivering a book every two years and making a fabulous living. He always wrote in long hand believing that writing was not a two handed sport.  According to his longtime assistant, quoted in Mr. DeMille’s New York Times obit, his handwriting “was atrocious.”  We have something in common.  He was also a scotch drinker but he skewed more to Dewar’s White Label while I go single malt, peaty.   In all he wrote 23 books of which 17 were New York Times best sellers.   He certainly kept busy which was good because in the words of his main character Mr. Corey, “the problem with doing nothing is you never know when you’re finished.” Good thing I have found Daniel Silva.  Otherwise, Mr. DeMille’s loss would be even harder to take. 

Bob Dylan has said, “You can look at Nashville pre-Kris and post-Kris because he changed everything.”   High praise from a guy who won a Nobel prize.  Now Nashville will have to do without Kris Kristofferson because he left us this month at 88.  Born into an army family, he studied at Oxford as a Rhodes Scholar, and joined the army, went to Ranger school, flew helicopters for Uncle Sam, and attained the rank of Captain.  His next assignment was to teach English at West Point but he thought better of it and quit to go to Nashville to seek fame and fortune.  His family was appalled and cut ties with him for a while.  He swept floors at Columbia records, where he first crossed paths with Dylan who was recording “Blonde on Blonde,” and flew helicopters.  Johnny Cash was someone he looked up to but Kristofferson couldn’t get the Man in Black to listen to his demo tapes.  That is until he landed a helicopter in Cash’s backyard and alighted from the copter with a beer and his demo tape.  Cash became a mentor.  Kristofferson hit big with “For the Good Times,” which Ray Price made a hit.  Cash had a hit with “Sunday Morning Coming Down and “Help Me Make it Through the Night,” was a hit for many, although first done by Sammi Smith.  He had a brief fling with Janis Joplin and Kristofferson’s “Me and Bobby McGee” was posthumously released and was probably her biggest hit.  It was also probably his most recognized tune.  His songs were sung by everyone.  He was married to Rita Coolidge (who at one point dated the drummer, Jim Gordon, who stole the piano piece that appears on Layla from her) and together them made albums and own Grammy’s. Kristofferson, with literally movie star good looks, was in fact a movie star.  He appeared in over 50 movies such as “Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore,” “Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid,” and he starred opposite Barbara Streisand in the remake of “A Star is Born” (subsequently remade with Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper), for which he received a Golden Globe. He was also in probably the biggest movie debacle in Hollywood, “Heaven’s Gate,” which was a critical and fiscal failure.  Kristofferson always defended the film and more recently, it is being viewed in a different light.   But through it all, music was his NorthStar and he would always go back to it whether solo or with other Country outlaws.  He was part of the Highwaymen with Cash and Waylon Jennings, who he referred to as “the Hillbilly Shakespeare.”  Like many, he suffered from drinking (a doctor once told him his liver “was the size of a football,” and he would die if he didn’t stop) and drug issues but made it through those times.  For a time Kristofferson suffered from memory loss and doctors believed it to be dementia and treated him for it.  Turned out he had Lyme disease and when properly treated he was back to himself.  His friends said it was like he came back from the dead.  Sadly for us, the old Lyme disease cure will not work this time.  Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose.   

Although born in Detroit, J.D. Souther, who played his last chord at 78, was a Southern California guy.  He played and wrote songs we all know the lyrics to.  He was in most of those Southern California rock bands and he had sufficient fame to live the good life and be considered a true rock star but he could go out without being noticed most of the time.  He was in bands like Poco, the Byrds, the Flying Burrito Brothers, Souther-Hillman-Furey, and it was he who lit the spark that started the Eagles.  He played with them one afternoon as sort of an audition but never joined the band (he felt they were perfect the way they were).  Instead, he teamed with Glenn Frey and Don Henley to write songs such as “Heartache tonight,” “New Kid In Town,” “Victim of Love,” and “The Best of My Love.”  With Mike Campbell and Don Henley he wrote “The Heart of the Matter.  He also wrote songs for Linda Ronstadt like “Faithless Love” and along with Mr. Taylor and Waddy Wachtel, wrote “Her Town too,”  which Mr. Taylor recorded with Mr. Souther.  For himself, he wrote “When You’re Only Lonely.”  Perhaps more importantly, to someone as shallow as me, he dated both Ronstadt and Stevie Nicks.  In his later years he acted and played the role of Watty White, a music producer in the show “Nashville.”  According to Souther, he would often get asked how pissed-off he would get knowing that the Eagles made such big hits of his songs.  According to the New York Times, his answer always was “would you like to see the checks?”  There’s gonna be a heartache tonight, a heartache tonight I know.     

It's tough being a Jackson if you aren’t Michael.  Living in the shadow of someone else is always a tough road to navigate.  That is the road Tito Jackson spent his life on a road which came to an abrupt halt this month at 70.  While Michael may have ultimately outshone the other four, the Jackson Five are collectively responsible for many of the great Motown hits of the late sixties and early 70’s, an integral part of the soundtrack of my youth.  Tito was the guitarist for the band although Berry Gordy, Motown’s owner and guiding force, refused to permit him to play on the band’s recordings, opting instead for a studio player. Odd since it was Tito’s guitar playing that, according to legend, was the spark for the group.  Apparently,  Joseph, a steel mill worker and father to the group, played guitar.  Tito would watch him to learn. One day while his dad was at work and he was tooling around on the guitar, he broke a string.  His dad came home and saw the broken string and punished Tito but then had him play the guitar for him.  Impressed, he bought his son a guitar and pushed his other brothers to perform and the Jackson Fie (formerly just the Jackson Brothers) was formed and the rest is history.  After the Motown sound played out and Michael went on to be the King of Pop, Tito continued to work as a blues musician the rest of his life.  “I Want You Back.”

“Live from the streets of New York City; greased and ready to kick ass,” was how the group Sha Na Na was introduced to audiences.  This month, Screamin’ Scott Simon left the building at 75.  Mr. Simon joined the band after responding to an advertisement in the Columbia University newspaper (he was a music and fine arts major) and remained in the band until it stopped performing in 2020.   According to legend, Jimi Hendrix saw the band perform and recommended them to Michael Lang, one of the Woodstock producers, who got them on the bill at the festival of music and art, appearing right before Hendrix himself.  The ensuing movie and soundtrack really launched the re-made doo-wop band.  Although Sha Na Na was doo-wop based, Simon was more in the vein of Jerry Lee Lewis with his flamboyant piano playing.  Simon also wrote songs for the group with his best one probably being “Sandy,” from the movie version of Grease. The group’s other star, John Bauman (Bowzer), said that he and Simon were opposite ends of the spectrum, he being doo wop and Simon being rock and roll.  However it was, it worked because the band was a great live show regardless of which end of the spectrum you favored. 

Heartthrob and Moondoggie, James Darren, the surfer-guy in the “Gidget” series of movies, died at 88. Funny thing was, he could barely swim, let alone surf.  He also had a role in the “Guns of Navarone,” which starred Gregory Peck, Anthony Quinn, and David Niven.  On television he starred in the “Time Tunnel.”  He also put out a few albums but never got to the level of say, Bobby Darin, who I, at first, mistook him for.  He met Buddy Hackett and the two hit it off and did a stage act for a dozen years.  Darren, a sort of jack-of-all-trades, directed a bunch of television shows and given his station in life, and perhaps not surprisingly, appeared in “The Love Boat.” He also had a recurring role in Star Trek: Deep Space Nine,” as a lounge singer.  Can’t get much better than that.   

I rarely write about bass players except to poke fun at them.  They are truly the underbelly of the band while I would say the drummer is the foundation.  Bass players get little credit and probably deservedly so.  How many signature bass lines are there?  Some, but very few.  One of the more memorable bass lines is in Lou Reed’s “Walk on the Wild Side.”  The bassist who put that lick down, Herbie Flowers, won’t be walking on any side as he left us this month at 88.   As the story goes, Flowers had done work with David Bowie on his “Diamond Dogs” record.  Reed was exiting the Velvet Underground and Bowie suggested he come to London and make some recordings.  Flowers was hired to do a session and brought his double (acoustic) bass.  He got the chords from Reed and played them.  He then asked if he could overdub the Fender bass at a higher register and Reed told him to go for it.  The combination of the two instruments created the haunting bass line that you hear on the record.  He said the whole thing took him about twenty minutes and he was off.  A benefit of the overdub was that Flowers got to be paid twice for his work but, unlike J.D. Souther, who made plenty as a writer, even with the double pay, Flowers got 24 pounds (about 32 dollars) for his work.   In addition to his work with Reed and Bowie, he played with Elton John (“Madman Across the Water”); Cat Stevens (“Foreigner”), Harry Nilsson (“Nilsson Schmilsson”), George Harrison, Paul McCartney, Ringo Starr (all at different times), Al Kooper and many others.  He was on the David Essex Album, as well as the song, “Rock On.”    All this; not bad for a bass player.  Not that EVH should be hearing footsteps.      

Sticking with the category music, I will just note that Sergio Mendes (Brasil 66) died at 83.  He had success with his bossa nova versions of “The Look of Love,” “The Fool On the Hill,” and “Scarborough Fair.”    Also, Tommy Cash, Johnny Cash’s younger brother, who was also a musician, died at 82.  Who knew?

I don’t know about you, but I am starting to tire of Don Davidson’s rabid advocacy for people he wants in this rag.  This time it is Dame Maggie Smith, the incredible British actress who died at 88.  I am not sure why women are no longer referred to as actresses but rather actors.  I found it easy to understand that an actress was a female actor and there was nothing pejorative about the label. Now, apparently, everyone is an actor.  I’m not a fan.   Anyway, for this pitch, Davidson ramped up the effort plying me with 12 year old Redbreast Single Pot Still, Irish whisky, which, if you all wanted to know, will almost always do the trick.  That and the two Academy Awards she won make her an undeniable great.   Oh, and she also won a Tony (For “Lettice and Lovage”), two Golden Globes, and a slew of British acting awards (not that we care about those on this side of the pond).  She never had to worry about trying to appear on the “Love Boat” as those slots are reserved for B and below folks and she is firmly in the A or A+ category.  While she received an Academy Award for her starring role in “The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie,” and another for best supporting actress in “California Suite,”  it was her role in “Downton Abbey” (which I have never seen – something, by the way, I share with Ms. Smith as she herself admitted to never viewing an episode), that made her first in the hearts of many.  Even her role as Minerva McGonagall  in the Harry Potter movies did not move the needle on her as much as “Downton Abbey.”  Perhaps Davidson liked her because her “Downton Abbey” role was that of a cranky curmudgeon which Don has pretty much perfected, except around his grandkids.  In a 2013 interview with 60 Minutes, Dame Smith told the interviewer that she had no interest in celebrity, stating, in her very British way, “I mean, why would I?”  Then again, she had it and comported herself with grace.  Unfortunately, so few do.       

We’ll end on a sweet note since dessert foods have been taking a licking of late.  What with the loss of cookie kings David Liederman and Famous Amos, and the guy who invented tiramisu (Robert Linguanotto) , I almost feel as though I’m losing weight.  Now, Ted Drewes, Jr., the Custard King of St. Louis has licked his last cone at 96.  Ted’s Dad, Ted Drewes, Sr., opened his first custard stand at a carnival in Florida and the following year took his stand to St. Louis where it soon became an institution.  The younger Mr. Drewes worked tirelessly in the company’s custard stand making it the standard  by which Midwest desserts were measured.  According to him “We’re not ice cream …. Frozen Custard has more eggs and more butterfat, and in our case, a little honey.”  It was this concoction  (and the St. Louis Cardinals), that sent St. Louians (I know, I made that up), over the moon.  Mr. Drewes was churning out 150,000 gallons of the stuff a year.  In a 2004 New York Times article, the paper referred to it as “a paragon among iced desserts.”  Although they served all sorts of custard desserts, it was the milkshake, known as the “Concrete,” because it defied gravity and wouldn’t leak out when you turned it upside down (provided it had not thawed), that accounted for 70% of the company sales.   When Mr. Drewes was in college, he pretty much knew it was the family business he was headed to which permitted him not to focus on his grades, but rather, “to play on every intramural sport there was.”  Dairy Queen credited the Concrete with being the inspiration for its Blizzard, and Danny Meyer, a native of St. Louis and the creator of Shake Shack, features a milkshake that traces itself back to the Concrete.   Gives new meaning to the term concrete goulashes. 

It's late and I gotta turn in.  Don’t squander a great Fall because the dreaded Winter is soon to follow.