Good Morning and welcome to the weekend!

You know, the death of anybody brings back a flood of memories. Where you were during different times in your life. What you were thinking years ago. Who were your friends.
It's like watching one of those old movie news reels that used to run in theaters (Believe it or not, this was how they used to get the news.). The difference, of course, is the reel runs in your head, not on the screen.
That happened to millions around the world Thursday when, first, it was leaked that Farrah Fawcett had died. Those news reels went into overdrive a few hours later with the announcement that Michael Jackson had died.
For more than a few, Fawcett and Jackson defined an era.
If you grew up in the 1970s, Farrah Fawcett was all over the place. She was on 'Charlies Angels.' She was on commercials. She was on bedroom walls. Heck, she was even married to the 'Six Million Dollar Man.' Only the other biggest star of the day.
Meanwhile, there was the Jackson 5, with Michael Jackson singing in front. Now, as a child, it was neat to see somebody your age performing on television. We watched the cartoon. We sang along. Of course, we didn't know about the behind-the-scenes abuse, but this wasn't the age of all-access.
Much like many quick shooting stars, by the mid-80s, Fawcett was a non-entity. There were other television stars. There were other posters.
That's about the time Michael Jackson broke out of the shadow of the Jackson 5. By the time the album 'Thriller' came out, Jackson was the biggest star in the world. As much as any other singer/group, the emergence of MTV brought Jackson closer to everybody.
I remember rushing home from school in 1983 because MTV was going to have the world debut of Jackson's 'Thriller' video. We watched it, then got on the phone and called our friends to talk about it. Yes, this was way before text messaging. While I didn't personally know anybody who had one of those red zipper jackets or walked around with one glove, Jackson's music still came out of the radio on a daily basis.
I look around now that these two have died and wonder if there are any more stars. A quick poll in our house didn't bring much recognition of Jackson. Forget even mentioning Farrah.


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Good Morning and welcome to a brave new world.

It's funny sometimes how the mind works. When the death of Phillies announcer Harry Kalas first started to filter through the regular channels, many remembered some of his famous calls.
Whether it be the call of Mike Schmidt's 500th home run or the one after the Phillies won the 2008 World Series or his work at NFL Films, there is a Harry Kalas memory somewhere in the mind.
My mind, as many will probably joyfully tell you, works a little different. My memory isn't about a call, it's something that happened nearly every game during the 1970s.
Growing up, we were lucky enough to have a neighbor who had season tickets to the Phillies. His seats were three rows off the field behind the visitors' dugout. We would get a chance to use the seats maybe 10 times a year.
For a kid just getting into baseball, this was heaven. You could yell to the players and they might even turn around.
Most of the seats around the section were for visiting players' families, but there was one loud guy further down the row named Hank. His voice would boom over any cheers, any call, any music.
During the seventh inning stretch of every home game, Hank would turn around and yell up to the booth to Harry.
"Hey, Harry."
It got to the point where we could pick Hank out of the crowd during games when listening on the radio or watching TV.
Anyway, Harry would always wave to Hank. Hank would wave back and the whole section would cheer.
That's what I'll remember of Harry Kalas. That and how even during some very, very bad baseball years in Philadelphia, you could always listen to the Phillies. Even when Steve Jeltz was batting.


If you have any cool links or photos, send them along to onlinedelco@gmail.com