Out the Window

Gerry Mulligan

Description

The Citrus County Chronicle was a small county-seat weekly when Gerry Mulligan joined it in the late 1970’s. Over the next 43 years, he led the charge to turn the newspaper into a seven-day daily in one of the state’s fastest growing markets. Along the way he was bitten by snakes, screamed at by sheriffs, maligned by politicians and ultimately had ‘poop in his shoe’ from his own dog. Over four decades, he never once missed writing his weekly column. For more than 2,200 consecutive weeks he told the stories of his community. Some were funny, some were sad and a few put Mulligan in the hospital. In Out the Window, you can enjoy some of the best.

Sujets

• Humor

Informations

• Publié par: Outskirts Press
• Date de parution: 19 octobre 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781977259134
• Langue: English

Extrait

Out the Window 43 Years on the Beat All Rights Reserved. Copyright © 2022 Gerard Mulligan v2.0
The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and/or legal right to publish all the materials in this book.
This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Outskirts Press, Inc. http://www.outskirtspress.com
ISBN: 978-1-9772-5913-4
Cover Photo © 2022 Gerard Mulligan. All rights reserved - used with permission.
Outskirts Press and the "OP" logo are trademarks belonging to Outskirts Press, Inc.
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
D EDICATION

This book is dedicated to all those newspaper columnists who have spent their lives sharing stories and observations. Pete Hamill, Art Buchwald, Jan Glidewell, Norm Swetman, David Arthurs, Lewis Grizzard, Steve Arthur, Carl Hiaasen, Mike Royko, and Dave Barry are just some of the names of those who kept me laughing for a lifetime.
Laughing is good for the soul. If we just read the headlines, we would cry every day.

Gerry Mulligan
A CKNOWLEDGEMENTS
There are many people who have helped me over the years in the newspaper business. I was one of those fortunate people who loved going to work every day. I made a living covering the news, producing newspapers and telling stories.
Just a few of those who helped along the way include David Arthurs, Greg Copeland, Jan Glidewell, Dick Morgan, Lucy Morgan, Jim Hunter, Tim Hess, Steve Arthur, Tom Saul, Mike Wright, Gary Chapman, Hampton Dunn, Dick Shelton, David Ernest, Garry Manning, Mike Arnold, Charlie Brennan, Chris Wessel, Dean Ridings, Ken Melton, Jim Twitty, Nancy Kennedy, Neale Brennan and George Wilkins.
Putting this book together was made easier by the assistance of Lori Hess, Trina Murphy, Tim Hess, Cindy Connelly, Jeremiah Mulligan, Tina Ruvalcaba, Hunter Mulligan and coffee.
My darling wife Janet has been my partner through it all.
T ABLE OF C ONTENTS
Chapter 1 - Sunday, Aug. 27, 1989
The logic of paddling in schools from a personal view
Chapter 2 -Nov. 22, 1992
The woods can make you humble
Chapter 3 - Nov. 17, 1996
There are times to appreciate your age
Chapter 4 - July 1, 2001
Biblical battle ends better
Chapter 5 - May 12, 2002
Mothers hold it all together
Chapter 6 - June 23, 2002
Father’s Day on the ledge
Chapter 7 - Jan. 5, 2003
A truly unique Christmas present
Chapter 8 - Jan. 19, 2003
Short life expires for Mulligan’s Island
Chapter 9 - Aug. 15, 2004
We’re too new to be evacuated
Chapter 10 - 2004
Redefining a good weekend
Chapter 11 - April 10, 2005
Mini-van wrap and a gap
Chapter 12 - Oct. 30, 2005
Oh, the joys of boat ownership
Chapter 13 - Sept. 25, 2005
Duct tape and family values
Chapter 15 - Sept. 2, 2007
Just another stupid American
Chapter 15 - Sept. 27, 2007
Rats overboard!
Chapter 16 - May 17, 2009
Valuable pressure-washing lessons
Chapter 17 - June 2010
Praying that things get better
Chapter 18 - January 2011
Angry mob is losing the war against the grasshoppers
Chapter 19 - April 2011
Watch out what you ask for
Chapter 20 - July 17, 2011
You know love when you see it
Chapter 21 - Sept. 9, 2012
Watch out for fast-growing trees
Chapter 22 - Feb. 4, 2012
Cultural intro just a bit too early
Chapter 23 - October 2012
An ugly toe can make you irritated
Chapter 24 - October 2012
The wind blows in new experiences
Chapter 25 - March 2013
Celebrating baseball history and Big Ed
Chapter 26 - July 7, 2013
The rain keeps coming and so do the snakes
Chapter 27 - Feb. 1, 2014
Mr. Larson was not coming home
Chapter 28 - Oct. 4, 2014
Get the scientists to whip me up an Oreo tree
Chapter 29 - Dec. 6, 2014
A peaceful message from a feathered ‘friend’
Chapter 30 - May 2, 2015
Being nice means putting your best foot forward
Chapter 31 - October 2015
"It doesn’t get any better than this"
Chapter 32- May 2016
We pass down the skills and weaknesses
Chapter 33 - May 2016
Looking for freedom in the mirror
Chapter 34 - June 4, 2016
Some updated medical training is on the priority list
Chapter 35 - June 25, 2016
The aftermath of the snake encounter
Chapter 36 - Nov. 2016
Dog gets his treat and the last laugh
Chapter 37 - January 2017
Elvis is in the building
Chapter 38 - September 2017
Dreams are needed to grow skills
Chapter 39 - Nov. 2017
You can’t go home again
Chapter 40 - April 13, 2018
I am not a chicken, but I can’t catch one
Chapter 41 - Oct. 19, 2018
Fighting off my nemesis with a one-pronged hoe
Chapter 42 - August 2019
Now even the squirrels are bored
Chapter 43 - Nov. 10, 2019
Sometimes silence is the best option
Chapter 44 - Dec. 2, 2019
Holidays would be nothing without a snake
Chapter 45 - Feb. 7, 2020
Poop in the Shoe returns
Chapter 46 - Sept. 27, 2020
Making puppies is real work
Chapter 47 - December 2020
If you remember one thing, remember that people are good
Chapter 48 - Jan. 17, 2021
Tommy Lasorda bled blue and loved jazz
Chapter 49 - March 14, 2021
Be afraid, but don’t be frightened
Chapter 50 - June 26, 2001
Father used to Know Best
Chapter 1 - Sunday, Aug. 27, 1989
T HE LOGIC OF PADDLING IN SCHOOLS FROM A PERSONAL VIEW
I T SEEMS THAT everyone has an opinion about paddling in the public school system.
Certainly, the majority of the people I speak with favor paddling in the school system. I don’t doubt that many of you see children acting up at the grocery store or whining in a restaurant and contemplate that a good crack across the backside would probably help get that kid in order.
And I’ll admit, I’ve been in enough social situations with children to appreciate the impact that a good spanking might have.
But I can’t help think there’s a time and place for everything; and having a teacher spank a disobedient child is a contradiction.
I’m sure it’s my own upbringing that has soured me on the concept of paddling in the school system. I went to a Catholic grade school where we did not have physical education classes. Our teachers were all nuns and their only exercise for the week came from their daily paddling of students.
Now it may come as a surprise to many of you, but I received my share of paddling as a student. In fact, the first edition of a newspaper I ever worked for - editor of my grade school newspaper - resulted in a paddling.
It was an interesting form of censorship.
I certainly was more careful with my word selection with our second edition.
My fondest memory of abuse came in about the fifth grade when a lunchtime fist-fight erupted on the playground. While the good sister on duty attempted to break up the fight, some disgruntled future agitator disguised as a fifth-grader shouted a condescending remark to the teacher in question.
"Who said that," she demanded of the 300 students on the playground.
There was no answer.
"I insist that the culprit come forward immediately," the good sister roared.
No one moved.
Now if there was one thing Catholic school kids had, it was a sense of unity and honor. No one would turn in a fellow student.
"I want the guilty student to step forward or I will punish every one of you," the good sister demanded.
It seems a bit odd now, but at that time we had this rule that when a sister rang the bell, we were frozen in position until the next bell sounded. It would be hard to say that we were frozen on this day as it was June at mid-day in a very hot parking lot.
We stood there frozen, dripping sweat, wondering if any of the girls would turn Roy Plackus, the guilty fifth-grader, over to the now furious teacher. To their credit, the girls remained silent.
The good sister finally rang her second bell and sent all of the female students back to the class. She ordered all of the boys to stand in a straight line – alphabetical order, chests out, hands at our sides.
"This is your last chance," she demanded. "If you don’t turn in the guilty party, every one of you will be punished."
Still no one said a word.
She then walked to the front of the line and began her attack. While the paddle was a weapon that existed in those days, the weapon of choice was a hand across the face.
A cold, fast hand directly to the cheek.
The first boy, that unlucky kid whose first name began with an "Ac," received a brisk blow to the face.
"This is your last chance," the good sister implored.
We would not relent.
She slapped through the A’s with vigor.
She bumped through the B’s with bounce.
She clubbed through the C’s without compassion.
It was somewhere around the H’s where she began to run out of steam. We had a lot of H’s in those days. Hemsworths and Harringtons and Harmons.
I’m sure that it was somewhere in the H’s where the good sister realized she still had another 110 boys to slap and that wasn’t going to be an easy task.
We boys in the M’s and N’s began to gain in spirit. While she might make it to us, we knew the zip would be out of her zap.
It was at the L’s where she finally gave up. She felt silly. I really believe she forgot why she was slapping in the first place. The heat was getting to her. We felt silly for her.
She stopped, said a few words in disgust, and marched back into the building. We stood out in the hot sun and some of us smiled. We didn’t move for fear that a designated hitter might be coming over from the convent. But none showed.
Eventually another good sister came out and rang the bell and we all returned to our classrooms.
On that hot June day, we lost our fear, and respect, for corporal punishment.
Chapter 2 -Nov. 22, 1992
T HE WOODS CAN MAKE YOU H