Chuck Warn

Chuck Warn

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A.E. Neuman

A.E. Neuman
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friend of dogs and fan of baseball

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Sunday, September 27, 2015

Sweet September except for 9/11...

A few days left in September 2015 and we will move on to October.
Shame, really. September brings us autumn ever year and we send it on its way like its February winter!
I was born September 13 so I am not without bias on the subject of favorite month.
It is NOT January, NFL playoffs no match for the suddenly gone holiday season with its indulgence laden traps everywhere. January is for getting back to the gym, not my fave activity. February, as mentioned, is no fave of mine either. March neither except for NCAA basketball madness. April brings back baseball yearly so I put it way up there but tax day brings it down. May signals pre-summer and the Kentucky Derby but good is not great! June has Flag Day and D-Day but also hot days. July celebrates USA on the fourth and France's Bastille Day on the 14th. July 31 is the day my Mom died in 2003. August has the dog days to stifle moving around too much. September, as I clearly signaled at the outset, is my favorite month, not only because of my birthday but also due to the bridge it provides to the year's final quarter. Sweet: Halloween, Thanksging and Christmas can be annual celebratory occasions or reappearing sources of heartbreak and regret if an unfortunate past controls your ability to accept the present and charges your sense of the future with toxic memories.
#FavoriteMonth? #September 

Wednesday, September 23, 2015

It Ain't Over Till It's Over...RIP Yogi

Yogi Berra died tonight. He was 90.
It ain't over till it's over.
Now it's over.
When you get to the fork in the road...take it.
Cut the pizza into six slices. I can't eat eight.

Yogi was a true original.
Even though my Dad taught me to hate the Yankees, he liked Yogi.
Everybody liked Yogi and now he is gone.
Yogi personified baseball as the national pastime.

RIP Yogi.

Saturday, September 19, 2015

Route 66

One week into living on Route 66, my pov has changed somewhat. Last year, I turned 65 years old and it made me feel like it was finally official: I am old!
This year, last Sunday to be exact, my birthday put me on Route 66 and now it seems like more of a fresh start as my fourth quarter clock ticks steadily down to the end.
I have decided to embrace Route 66 like the American Dream Trail it has been for me.
Manifest destiny pointed my way west from Toledo after college in Maryland.
I became a Californian in 1970, a San Franciscan in 1971, an Angeleno in 1978 and a Valley boy in 1982!
Watching the sunset from the SanFernandoValley since 82 has been a gift. It soothes my troubled soul with its beauty and kaleidoscopic intensity. 


Monday, September 7, 2015


Thinking of other LaborDays today, past and future.

Will LaborDay2016 launch a new Presidency that will unite not divide?
Seems unlikely in our times, if ever.

My candidate is Joe Biden and I really hope he runs and wins. He is a great American who has labored for his lifetime in the vineyards of progress through fair compromises.

Joe Biden would be the greatest President of my lifetime!

In 1971 I attended the Labor Day Union Picnic in Pleasanton south of Oakland. Ed Muskie was the star attraction as Democratic Presidential front runner. I was for George McGovern but met and liked Muskie which came in handy when I later worked for him when my promised McGovern gig fell through due to the duplicitousness of a local pol named Bill Lockyer (not that I hold a grudge unreasonably long)
The day is memorable to me because of the two guys I was asked to give a ride to from the picnic to San Francisco airport. Former California Governor Edmund G "Pat" Brown and California Labor Federation President John F Henning were both friendly as hell that day and we talked politics and baseball, agreeing as one about the greatness of the new Giants slugger Dave Kingman! We all bonded that day the way you sometimes do with people you interact with knowing it will be unlikely to recreate that bond down the road. Every time I saw Pat Brown after that he gave me a second look like he ought to remembeer how he knows me but just couldn't quite recall the memory.
That's Okay because I was always fine with just that second look from the man I long respected from afar as the guy that launched Ronald Reagan in 1966.
Don Bradley was Pat's campaign manager in that race and he gave me my first paid job in politics in 1974 for William Matson Roth for Governor in the Democratic primary following eight years of Governor Reagan. The front runner, and eventual nominee and Governor, was Edmund G "Jerry" Brown, Jr. , Pat's son.
The way it has worked out with Jerry going on to be the youngest California Governor, then decades later being reelected as the oldest California Governor makes me feel like a real Californian to have lived here through all of that public history. Also, living through my personal history over that same time in California left me lonely: first in Berkeley (1970 I cast my first vote for Jerry Brown as Secretary of State), then Hayward, SanFrancisco, Sacramento, SF, West Hollywood, Venice, Van Nuys, Sherman Oaks...

My WarnWorld pov from 1971 in 2015 remains the same. I have relived that drive many times over the years  with PatBrown and JackHenning and it always makes me smile!

That's Life!

Wednesday, August 12, 2015

Summer naps

Triple digit heat predicted for next seven days means August dog days are in full swing with high likelihood of sweat soaked clothing during same.
Thinking of other dog days in Toledo, Washington,D.C., San Francisco and Los Angeles during other lifetimes. Visions of iced tea, lemonade and Popsicles.
Sliced fresh tomatoes.
Scallions with sea salt.
Mozzarella slices.
Gin and tonic.


Saturday, August 8, 2015

TRUMP of the week...

Trump disinvited from "red state" event for his remarks about Megyn Kelly of Fox News "bleeding from her eyes and wherever" implying she was hormonal from her period.
By not speaking today, Trump is once again dominating the news cycle.
A remarkable political phenomenon, this Trump thing continues to shake up the 2016 Presidential race in heretofore unknown ways!
I am starting to think Donald Trump is smarter than the average bear!
Can he get elected?
Why not?

God help us...

Monday, August 3, 2015

dog days

August means the dog days arrive to close out the summer.
Dogs are my faves so I have always enjoyed dog days.
My last dog died in January;
my first dog entered my life in the 1950s.

Cucumber sliced thin and chilled
covered with oil and vinegar
refreshing yet tasty
maybe some gaspacho too!

Summer treats come in many forms, none unknown in my time:
iced cold beer, grilled hot dogs and burgers;
baked beans, potato salad, cole slaw.
shrimp and guacamole with corn chips and salsa,
pickles and olives with jalapeno peppers and bean sprouts.

no fan of the heat,
staying in the shade.
keeping cool until
dog days have passed!

Saturday, August 1, 2015

When I'm Gone (One way to go)

 This is a story that moved me but it is not mine.


When I’m Gone

Death is always a surprise. No one expects it. Not even terminal patients think they are going to die in a day or two. In a week, maybe. But only when this particular week is the next week.
We are never ready. It is never the right time. By the time it comes, you will not have done all the things that we wanted to. The end always comes as a surprise, and it’s a tearful moment for widows and a bore for the children who don’t really understand what a funeral is (thank God).
It was no different with my father. In fact, his death was even more unexpected. He was gone at age 27. The same age that claimed the lives of several famous musicians. He was young. Way too young. My father was not a musician and neither a famous person. Cancer doesn’t pick its victims. He was gone when I was young, and I learned what a funeral was because of him. I was 8 and half, old enough to miss him for a lifetime. Had he died before, I wouldn’t have memories. I would feel no pain. But I wouldn’t have a father in my life. And I had a father.
I had a father who was both firm and fun. Someone who would tell a joke before grounding me. That way, I wouldn’t feel so bad. Someone who kissed me on the forehead before I went to sleep. A habit which I passed on to my children. Someone who forced me to support the same football team he supported, and who explained things better than my mother. Do you know what I mean? A father like that is someone to be missed.
He never told me he was going to die. Even when he was lying on a hospital bed with tubes all over him, he didn’t say a word. My father made plans for the next year even though he knew he wouldn’t be around in the next month. Next year, we would go fishing, we would travel, we would visit places we’ve never been. Next year would be an amazing year. We lived the same dream.
I believe — actually I’m sure — he thought this should bring luck. He was a superstitious man. Thinking about the future was the way he found to keep hope alive. The bastard made me laugh until the very end. He knew about it. He didn’t tell me. He didn’t see me crying.
And suddenly, the next year was over before it even started.
My mother picked me up at school and we went to the hospital. The doctor told the news with all the sensitivity that doctors lose over the years. My mother cried. She did have a tiny bit of hope. As I said before, everyone does. I felt the blow. What does it mean? Wasn’t it just a regular disease, the kind of disease doctors heal with a shot? I hated you, dad. I felt betrayed. I screamed with anger in the hospital, until I realized my father was not around to ground me. I cried.
Then, my father was once again a father to me. With a shoebox under her arm, a nurse came by to comfort me. The box was full of sealed envelopes, with sentences where the address should be. I couldn’t understand exactly what was going on. The nurse then handed me a letter. The only letter that was out of the box.
“Your dad asked me to give you this letter. He spent the whole week writing these, and he wants you read it. Be strong.” the nurse said, holding me.
The envelope read WHEN I’M GONE. I opened it.

If you’re reading this, I’m dead. I’m sorry. I knew I was going to die.
I didn’t want to tell you what was going to happen, I didn’t want to see you crying. Well, it looks like I’ve made it. I think that a man who’s about to die has the right to act a little bit selfish.
Well, as you can see, I still have a lot to teach you. After all, you don’t know crap about anything. So I wrote these letters for you. You must not open them before the right moment, OK? This is our deal.
I love you. Take care of your mom. You’re the man of the house now.
Love, dad.

PS: I didn’t write letters to your mom. She’s got my car.

He made me stop crying with his bad handwriting. Printing was not easy back then. His ugly writing, which I barely understood, made me feel calm. It made me smile. That’s how my father did things. Like the joke before the grounding.
That box became the most important thing in the world for me. I told my mother not to open it. Those letters were mine and no one else could read them. I knew all the life moments written on the envelopes by heart. But it took a while for these moments to happen. And I forgot about it.
Seven years later, after we moved to a new place, I had no idea where I put the box. I couldn’t remember it. And when we don’t remember something, we usually don’t care about it. If something goes lost in your memory, It doesn’t mean you lost it. It simply doesn’t exist anymore. It’s like change in the pockets of your trousers.
And so it happened. My teenage years and my mother’s new boyfriend triggered what my father had anticipated a long time before. My mother had several boyfriends, and I always understood it. She never married again. I don’t know why, but I like to believe that my father had been the love of her life. This boyfriend, however, was worthless. I thought she was humiliating herself by dating him. He had no respect for her. She deserved something a lot better than a guy she met at a bar.
I still remember the slap she gave me after I pronounced the word “bar”. I’ll admit that I deserved it. I learned that over the years. At the time, when my skin was still burning from the slap, I remembered the box and the letters. I remembered a specific letter, which read “WHEN YOU HAVE THE WORST FIGHT EVER WITH YOUR MOM”.
I ransacked my bedroom looking for it, which earned me another slap in the face. I found the box inside a suitcase lying on top of the wardrobe. The limbo. I looked through the letters, and realized that I had forgotten to open WHEN YOU HAVE YOUR FIRST KISS. I hated myself for doing that, and I decided that would be the next letter I’d open. WHEN YOU LOSE YOUR VIRGINITY came right next in the pack, a letter I was hoping to open really soon. Eventually I found what I was looking for.

Now apologize to her.
I don’t know why you’re fighting and I don’t know who’s right. But I know your mother. So a humble apology is the best way to get over this. I’m talking about a down-on-your-knees apology.
She’s your mother, kid. She loves you more than anything in this world. Do you know that she went through natural birth because someone told her that it would be the best for you? Have you ever seen a woman giving birth? Do you need a bigger proof of love than that?
Apologize. She’ll forgive you.
Love, dad.

My father was not a great writer, he was just a bank clerk. But his words had a great impact on me. They were words that carried more wisdom than all of my 14 years of age at the time. (That wasn’t very hard to achieve, though).
I rushed to my mother’s room and opened the door. I was crying when she turned her head to look me in the eyes. She was also crying. I don’t remember what she yelled at me. Probably something like “What do you want?” What I do remember is that I walked towards her holding the letter my father wrote. I held her in my arms, while my hands crumpled the old paper. She hugged me, and we both stood in silence.
My father’s letter made her laugh a few minutes later. We made peace and talked a little about him. She told me about some of his most eccentric habits, such as eating salami with strawberries. Somehow, I felt he was sitting right next to us. Me, my mother and a piece of my father, a piece he left for us, on a piece of paper. It felt good.
It didn’t take long before I read WHEN YOU LOSE YOUR VIRGINITY

Congratulations, son.
Don’t worry, it gets better with time. It always sucks the first time. Mine happened with an ugly woman…who was also a prostitute.
My biggest fear is that you’d ask your mother what virginity is after reading what’s on the letter. Or even worse, reading what I just wrote without knowing what jerking off is (you know what it is, right?). But that’s none of my business.
Love, dad.

My father followed me through my entire life. He was with me, even though he was not near me. His words did what no one else could: they gave me strength to overcome countless challenging moments in my life. He would always find a way to put a smile on my face when things looked grim, or clear my mind during those angry moments.
WHEN YOU GET MARRIED made me feel very emotional. But not so much as WHEN YOU BECOME A FATHER.

Now you’ll understand what real love is, son. You’ll realize how much you love her, but real love is something you’ll feel for this little thing over there. I don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl. I’m just a corpse, I’m not a fortune teller.
Have fun. It’s a great thing. Time is gonna fly now, so make sure you’ll be around. Never miss a moment, they never come back. Change diapers, bathe the baby, be a role model to this child. I think you have what it takes to be an amazing father, just like me.

The most painful letter I read in my entire life was also the shortest letter my father wrote. While he wrote those four words, I believe he suffered just as much as I did living through that moment. It took a while, but eventually I had to open WHEN YOUR MOTHER IS GONE.

She is mine now.

A joke. A sad clown hiding his sadness with a smile on his makeup. It was the only letter that didn’t make me smile, but I could see the reason.
I always kept the deal I had made with my father. I never read letters before their time. With the exception of WHEN YOU REALIZE YOU’RE GAY. Since I never thought I’d have to open this one, I decided to read it. It was one of the funniest letters, by the way.

What can I say? I’m glad I’m dead.
Now, all joking aside, being half-dead made me realize that we care too much about things that don’t matter much. Do you think that changes anything, son?
Don’t be silly. Be happy.

I would always wait for the next moment, the next letter. The next lesson my father would teach me. It’s amazing what a 27 year old man can teach to an 85 year old senior like me.
Now that I am lying on a hospital bed, with tubes in my nose and my throat thanks to this damn cancer, I run my fingers on the faded paper of the only letter I didn’t open. The sentence WHEN YOUR TIME COMES is barely visible on the envelope.
I don’t want to open it. I’m scared. I don’t want to believe that my time is near. It’s a matter of hope, you know? No one believes they’re gonna die.
I take a deep breath, opening the envelope.

Hello, son. I hope you’re an old man now.
You know, this letter was the easiest to write, and the first I wrote. It was the letter that set me free from the pain of losing you. I think your mind becomes clearer when you’re this close to the end. It’s easier to talk about it.
In my last days here I thought about the life I had. I had a brief life, but a very happy one. I was your father and the husband of your mother. What else could I ask for? It gave me peace of mind. Now you do the same.
My advice for you: you don’t have to be afraid
PS: I miss you

Thursday, July 30, 2015

Life Lessons...

Every year, July 31 is the Major League Baseball trading deadline. Since 2003, July 31 has carried the additional weight of marking the anniversary of my Mom' death.
Today is July 30 and the ticking clock is now getting ever more insistent.

 Last year, my beloved Detroit Tigers helped salve my emotional wounds about my Mom with the great gift of getting ace pitcher David Price to join Justin Verlander and Max Scherzer in our starting rotation! The Tigers fifth World Championship suddenly seemed a mere formality!

It did not play out that way.

Now Scherzer is pitching for Washington and Justin just won his first game of the season this week.  David Price is likely to be traded and my Tigers won't win their fifth consecutive American League Central Division crown.

Life has a lot of ups and downs.

Monday, July 27, 2015

Sorry Mom...

Friday, July 31 marks the 12th Anny of my Mom's death.
As I count down the days until that landmark of my life, memories from that last spring I spent with her come flooding back. As with most time spent lamenting past life lessons that ended badly, the images in my mind bring back regrets that never fade.
In February 2003 when Mom called me at my Oscar PR production office with the news she had esophageal cancer, my friend across the hall legendary writer Hal Kantor counseled me not to follow my gut and "get very drunk" but I did anyway. It did not help.
This Friday, July 31 is the 12th Anny of the day my Mom died.
In February, 2003 she called me at my Oscar PR production office to give me the news that the doctor had diagnosed her with esophageal cancer. My pal across the hall was legendary writer Hal Kanter and he counseled me against my gut reaction which was to "get very drunk" but I did anyway. It did not help.
My Mom was going to die and all I could do about it was drive home to Toledo from LA after the Oscar telecast to help out. Which I did.
It was my third road trip to Toledo in one year, all with my two dogs and two cats in my leased Jeep Cherokee. After round the clock driving punctuated only by truck stop interludes to walk the dogs and stop for gas, coffee and naps, my first stop in Toledo was to visit Mom at her medical rehab facility before setting up HQ for me and the animals at Mom's house near South and Broadway.
She was happy to see me and we had a good talk about what she was facing. I agreed to take her to her chemo treatment the next day and thus began ten weeks of her final days during which we spent more time together than we had since 1967 when I moved away from Toledo.
The thing about my relationship with my Mom is that despite our unconditional love for each other, we always found something to argue about!
Her final days were no exception. We spent hours every day in her hospice room arguing over the who,when and where of hundreds of family photos. Arguing in our good way during that time remains one of my fondest memories.
But there was also a dark side. Much like what happened during the 1960s, my own angst and frustration got the best of me by the 4th of July and I acted on my perceived need to get back to LA and find a job. Mom was being sent home from the hospice after one month there so I announced my intention to leave Toledo again.
I drove a personal best cross country time of 42 hours door to door from Mom's house in Toledo to my house in Van Nuys.
Big mistake. I shoulda stayed with Mom in Toledo until the end but spoke with her often by phone until her neighbor Sarah called me with the news she had passed on July 31.
Guilt is a complex and confusing emotion.
I will always believe I let my Mom down when she needed me most.
Sorry Mom.

Saturday, July 25, 2015

Life's Biggest Regret?

Yesterday was July 24.
Thus begins my personal countdown to July 24, 2016.
364 days until the 50thAnny of meeting the girl who would become the love of my life, Karen Lee Shinn of Toledo, Ohio. She was 15 years old then and it was love at first sight for me. I was 16 and would enter my senior year at Woodward High School in  September.
Karen was beautiful at 5'9" and 115 with long bare legs beneath gold short shorts. My opening line to her asked when the band would start playing ( it already was) which she luckily took as me being funny and the rest is history: high school sweetheart until June 1967 then girlfriend then wife December 28, 1967 until September 13, 1977.
Messing up my first marriage is the biggest regret of my life.

I am sorry Karen.

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

TRUMP, for real?

It is the season of TRUMP, God help us!
Presidential campaigns attract all kinds of nuts and this year is no exception.
In our social media world, it has become easier than ever to be outrageous with the "line that must NOT be crossed" appearing more and more ephemeral.
But this guy has given us a whole new understanding of what it means to not play well with others.
Donald Trump has found an audience (for the moment) for his brand of super-sized jingoistic blather with his rivals flummoxed about how to exist in the arena with him.
Interesting for sure. But is it healthy for the electoral process?
How many TRUMP imitators are even now staring at their reflected images and seeing a populist force for freedom as candidates for office?
That can't be a good thing.
For starters, will some of them choose to follow their leader into a world with long unkempt hair?
The barber's union better get on the case about that right quick!
So how does the TRUMP phenomenon play out?
In my opinion, IOWA will once again weed out the ribbon clerks for 2016 and TRUMP will be among those reduced to gadfly status.
In the meantime, get your popcorn and enjoy the show!

Monday, July 20, 2015

Where were you on July 20, 1969?

I remember that day vividly when Armstrong walked on the moon.
I watched it on TV with the rest of the world from my wife's grandparents apartment in Margate, New Jersey. Walter Cronkite made it official then Nixon called our heroes on the moon after the kid from Ohio told us all  about "one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind"

Sunday, July 19, 2015

Tiger Woods now just history...

The Open from St Andrews once again giving me my annual four day visit to the UK for golf the way it was meant to be played (btw, what would a TRUMP designed links course look like?) if only as a TV experience starting each day in LA at one o'clock in the morning.
Tiger Woods is now a tragic figure in golf's pantheon  and Jordan Speith is the new improved model we are all rooting for today. Will Dustin Johnson win this time? Stay tuned.

Thursday, July 16, 2015

BOOMERALERT: KnowThyScreenSelf

I was born in 1949 or in a time before the era of screens.
Screens have invaded our lives in this century so massively as to now warrant national TV news (remember that?) stories about kids whose parents have been forced to deny all screens cold turkey before reintroducing them with time limits.
Yeah, like that's gonna work on our nation of fat kids who can't spell N-O.

But I digress.... As to my own screen addiction, it has grown by leaps and bounds.
Initially resistant as an old curmudgeon at their introduction some years ago, I whispered rhapsodies to the smell and feel of books, exuding an innate hostility at the notion of tech supplanting old school.
Oh, how my times have changed as the 21st Century enters its teenage years!

Kindle, iPad, laptop, HDTV, multiple TVs, and more...the beat goes on.

Midsummer dreamzzzzzzzzzzz.....annual visit by Dr Blues

My Mom died on July 31, 2003.
Ever since then, my 4th of July celebration signals the start of a month long visit from  what Mr. Lincoln called the black dog of despair.
My black dog barks softly at first but now in mid July he is getting more needy and full of fear of the unknowable.

 I hear ya Ma...miss you too.

Tuesday, June 30, 2015


Last Day Of June 2015

No more June brides
Another season closes
As 4th of July beckons
And lightning bugs reign
While cookouts heat the charcoal
As the baked beans and potato salad
Are spiced and re-spiced
Burgers and hot dogs,
Chicken and corn on the cob
Roasting in aluminum blankets with
Potato bros;
Cold beer...ahhhh.

Monday, June 29, 2015

Real summer starts NOW!!!

The Last Monday In June...

Looking back at all my June Mondays,
This one could represent them all!
Hot, sunny, aroma of fresh cut grass;
Dog sleeping lazily nearby.
Getting ready for baseball games
And hot dogs with mustard
Peanuts and potato salad,
Extra baked beans please!
Find a way to sweat
Followed by a dip
A lol in the sun
Cold beer is NOT overrated!
June comes and goes every year,
Followed by the Fourth of July!
Real summer starts now!!!

Friday, June 26, 2015


History happened today!
I have seen a lot of history since 1949 (early memories really began in the 1950s) but today I witnessed my President SING Amazing Grace in his eloquent eulogy for the murdered Charleston  nine and it was remarkable!
Earlier in the day at the White House, he spoke to the nation hailing the SupremeCourt marriage decision. A truly historic day for all Americans knowing that our nation is walking the talk about civil rights for ALL Americans, even queers!
Too soon?
Funny is as funny does.
And yesterday the Supreme Court's first historic ruling of the week declared Obamacare legal!
Obama's legacy is now secured for history as the first black President AND the President who won the fight to make health care treatment a right rather than a privilege for ALL Americans!
#RIPCharlestonNine #SCOTUSCARE #RainbowsNotStarsNBars #HistoryHappenedToday

Sunday, June 14, 2015


Happy Flag Day!
June 14 is the day after Tim Russert dropped dead in 2008!
Among other landmarks of our American tapestry:
Of Stars and Stripes,
And red, white and blue;
Honor the fallen by remembering
Voluntary Sacrifices!
My D-Day vet Dad,
My namesake Uncle Chuck,
Mom's lifelong champion brother
Killed by Nazis as a POW in 1945...
RIP Dad and Uncle Chuck (and Mom)
Our American family has always honored the
American Flag!

Friday, June 12, 2015

SummerOfVerse #3


Another week in the books.
Saturday soon enough.
Sunday day of rest.

Monday peeks at us,
Awaiting our weekend survival.
Until a new week begins apace, followed by
Tuesday,Wednesday and Thursday.

Week in, week out
Days slide by
Marking Life markers,
Making memories.

Past weeks exist in mental images
Some more vivid than others.
Others are gone, like Friday
After lunch!

Wednesday, June 10, 2015

Draft for my memoirs #1

Most Mondays thru Fridays my TV days start at 3am Pacific Time with morningjoe on msnbc followed by The Dan Patrick Show and The Rich Eisen Show on Audience Channel 239 on DirecTV.
Then it is noon and I look for baseball games to watch.
I have a sign that says: Retirement is just one long coffee break!
That pretty much sums it up for me.
After baseball, I like to take a nap before dinner after sitting on my front porch watching birds and squirrels fight over the seed hanging from my pine tree's branches.
Journaling war stories of my careers in politics and show business is a daily commitment of one hour (on which I am currently past due by a lot)
Reminiscing about the 1950s as a lonely boy on a farm outside Toledo,Ohio with an outhouse for a bathroom and a water pump for drinking,cleaning,bathing...
Recalling my high school years 1963-1967 at Toledo Woodward High School.
Eloping with my high school sweetheart in 1967.
1970: On the Road with Chuck and Karen Warn from DC to Toledo to New Orleans to El Paso to Tucson to the Sunset Strip in LA on to Berkeley.
San Francisco Years:North Beach, Pacific Heights, Potrero Hill, Lake Merced
Move to L.A.
Made sense at the time...
Marriage#2:Vegas Strip 5am  9/14/1982
Divorce#2: 1983
Marriage#3: 1989
Annulment#1: 1997
7/31/2000: Last Wife Moved Away
21stCentury: Retired husband.

Tuesday, June 2, 2015

"SummerOfVerse" day two...

I am a dog guy.
Love dogs, all dogs
And they
Love Me!

Baseball is my passion;
Ever since 1959 WarnWorld
Revolves around baseball season.
Each new year brings new landmarks.
As a kid baseball was my refuge.
As a 65 year old, baseball memories
Fuel me daily--unless
My Beloved DetroitTigers happen to lose,
In which case I mourn.
Death is like the Tigers losing
No chance
To win

Monday, June 1, 2015

A Summer Verse 2015

June 2015 has arrived!

Hot town!
Summer in the city!
Hot town!
Ice cream truck driver,
Turned retiree
Living each moment,
More than ever.
Not missing stuff
Gets easier
As distractions
Fill the space.
An only child has skills
Being alone
Useful in WarnWorld:
Patience, big imagination,
Not sharing.

        @ 2015

Saturday, May 30, 2015

Joe Biden

Joe Biden teaches us yet again how to endure life and all of its valleys.
RIP Beau Biden

2016 Politics via WarnWorldCommunications, a division of Warn Communications Group

"Is the dream alive if it don't come true?"
    --Bruce Springsteen, American poet laureate

As quoted by Hillary challenger Martin OMalley in announcing his candidacy

Not bad...I give O'M a B...will need a lot more, including for Bernie Sanderrs to catch fire....HRC campaign making more sense....Biden?

Thursday, May 28, 2015

Remembering Dr. Hunter S Thompson


Another life lesson from the brilliantly dead Duke hisownself: Dr. Hunter S Thompson, late of Woody Creek, Colorado where his close friend and on screen avatar Johnny Depp personally oversaw the disposal of Dr Thompson's self-shotgunned remains painstakingly according to his expressed (and discussed) wishes including the climactic moment of shooting HST's ashes from a cannon into the Colorado grandeur he so loved!

My first and best encounter with the infamous Hunter Thompson came in New York City at the 1976 Democratic National Convention where a Georgia peanut farmer named Jimmy Carter became our nominee for President. No, that really happened. I was there! I remember singing Amazing Grace with Daddy King and Barbara Jordan and thousands of us holding hands and rocking in unison...

I left Madison Square Garden right behind Daniel Patrick Moynihan and taxied to the coveted Rolling Stone afterparty. I knew a guy at the door who I worked with on a California Governor Democratic primary in 1974 so I was one of the last non VIPs like Paul Newman, etc to get in before fire marshalls stopped our fun.
That' s when I met the great man himself on the roof of the party brownstone.
We shared a mutual anger at "the man" spoiling our fun even as the place was already wall to wall.
Just then, Dr Thompson stepped up on the edge overlooking the mob scene at the front door.
He stared at that scene several beats then decided the time was right to take a piss over the edge onto the crowd six stories down. Several of us roughnecks followed his lead and the people under us scattered from the yellow shower.

 And HE WON!
My history prof was named an Ambassador and Happy Times Were Here Again!
A long time before President Jimmy discovered American Malaise. (Thanks Pat Cadell)

Tuesday, May 19, 2015

Tuesday is...

Tuesday is Election Day!
Time to go vote for a new LA city councilman...
Or woman!
Leaning Carolyn Ramsey over David Ryu
Based on visit from her precinct walker.
Face to face still best campaign tool!
I started in 1960 for JFK
1968 for RFK
1972 for McGovern.
1976 for Jimmy Carter (sorry Jerry Ford)
1980 forTeddy Kennedy
1984 for Walter Mondale
1988 for Mike Dukakis (but voted for George H W Bush)
1992 for Bill Clinton
2000 for Al Gore
2004 for John Kerry
2008 for Barack Obama
2016 for Joe Biden

Saturday, May 9, 2015

Moments of Truth

Life at 65...
Each year rolls by with satisfying yet disappointing predictability now that I can clearly see the light in the tunnel.
I tend to use sports events to track my annual reality: each new baseball season echoes all my others while always offering something new with each game. My Dad's legacy of a love for baseball and a distrust of Nixon serves me as well at 65 as it has since he bestowed it upon me at the Saturday Night Movie of Ma & Pa Kettle at Genoa, Ohio in the mid 50s!
Remembering those life moments long after our loved ones have moved on makes me feel that I am staying at a party after the host turned on the lights at the end of a long evening.
The party's over...go home!

Saturday, May 2, 2015


Why would I spend 100 bucks to miss game 7 of a great NBA playoff series?

BucketListsLeftUndone: DerbyDay

WarnWorld memories of KentuckyDerbyMaySaturdays past....

I always think of myself wearing a white linen suit sipping MintJulips
In truth that never happened, to me at least,
But every May the image returns and I do not resist it!
Back when attending LIVE events was still attractive, the Derby was on my original bucket list.
Now past that time of my life, I pass my time remembering


Friday, May 1, 2015


This MayDay finds me reflective of my past world worker celebrations:
1967 one month prior to my ToledoWoodwardGraduation (also release of SgtPepper);
1976 BigApple bound to help nominate Jimmy Carter in MadisonSquareGarden;
1982 wife2 in UCLA hospital.
1989 wife3 lies 2me re what happened to my favorite dog Cooper AND about losing our son by miscarriage.

Life lessons...workers of the world UNITE!

Sunday, April 12, 2015

April 12...OneYearLater...

Ned died one year ago today.
He was three days short of his 19th birthday and he was the first of my three best friends and family members to die around my 65th birthday last September 13.
God works in mysterious ways and  I will live with His choices, not that there can really be a choice.
Ned is dead. Nothing will change that.
So is Roxie who passed on July 15, 2014.
And finally so is my beloved Teddy who I watched die in my arms on January 19, 2015.
Rest In Peace My Family.

Monday, April 6, 2015

Thanks for the memories Lulu...

On the day of the 2002 NCAA Men's Basketball Championship, I happened to be driving from my home in the SanFernandoValley to my childhood home in Toledo, Ohio. The day before was EasterSunday and I spent it driving north from Perry, Oklahoma to DodgeCityKansas.
My leased JeepCherokee carried me and my two dogs and two cats safely on this journey of the road along with another one later that same year to watch the WorldSeries with my Dad in the AnnArborVAHospital. And again in 2003 when my Mom called me while I was working on the Oscar telecast to let me know she had esophageal cancer (which would kill her on July 31, 2003.) so I made plans to drive to Toledo after the Oscars to help her die.
But that was later and today I would like to remember that day in 2002 that I drove hard from DodgeCity to ColumbiaMissouri so that I could watch my MarylandTerrapins play for all the marbles! My dogs Emma and Teddy and my cats Ned and Lulu loved our road trips but in truth liked the sleeping times in the car at truck stops more than the nights spent in motel rooms like the Ramada we found on the third try for animal friendly hoteliers. Lulu decided to give me a special challenge as I was unloading my car for the motel room. With the opening tipoff moments away, Lulu saw her chance and bolted from my SUV past me to the ground where she by chance ran into a cul de sac with me left standing at the entrance like a hockey goalie. Lulu tried to fly past me again but my desire to save my kitty AND see Maryland play for the championship prevailed narrowly and Lulu remained part of my WarnWorldFamily until MemorialDay2006 when cancer took her.
Those three road trips to Toledo in 2002 and 2003 remain some of my most beloved memories.

Thursday, March 26, 2015

Ok to ask your pilot if he is feeling depressed?

Now this.
I for one will never again board a flight without taking a look at the pilots with a new and unwelcome subtext to my risk assessment formula.
For example, "how's it goin captain?" does not now seem inappropriate for any passenger to ask and that alone may add twenty minutes to all flights!
What a world we live in!
Each generation faces their own new set of challenges from savage natives to diseases not yet curable.
The 21st Century has now established its niche in historical iconography like the Hippie60s, Roaring 20s, etc...so far, the 2000s have been defined most by 911 and now the horrific confirmation that airline pilots can no longer be trusted with our lives.
What to do?
Stop flying is one answer. But that should also include changing our personal behavior as best we can to stop others from controlling our destinies. As I think this through, it is a one percenter issue. Our world and its economies thrive on the rich getting richer and now a lone wolf has shown us that the power of one still reigns supreme in 2015.

Live free or die!

Friday, March 13, 2015

Blue Bloods Friday

Friday night is Blue Bloods night.
This TV show offers us the oportunity to hang out with Tom Selleck and Frank Reagan's family.
Friday night has always been a favorite weekly time for me at every stage of my life, from Friday night at Howard Johnson's for all-you-can-eat-fish-fry to Friday night light high school football games, date nights with girls, women and wives over 50 years.

Holy Toledo!

The years go by in a series of events separated by roadmarks, like loved ones dying.
Seasons come and go and I mean baseball, football etc not winter and summer so much. But thats no doubt due to the fact I left the cols long ago and now it exiestsonly in my boyhood memories and on TV.
Tough winter in Toledo this year. Sorry guys.
I hope to visit Toledo in November on the 10th anniversary of my Dad's death. 11-11-05 was the last time I was there.
We buried him on Veteran's Day and 11-11-15 is my new target date for a road trip to say goodbye to Mom in Marblehead and Dad on Central Avenue Toledo.

Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young - 05 - Woodstock (by EarpJohn)

Sunday, March 1, 2015

March in like a LION!

On March 1, 2015 my thoughts turn to a new baseball season.
And friendship. Yesterday's Forest Lawn funeral for my friend Fred Prouser taught me much I did not know about the events of his life but nothing that I did not know of his humanity and friendship skills.
Speaker after speaker told the same history of Fred that mirrored my own experience: he was a nice man who stood out in the cutthroat world of Hollywood red carpets.

RIP Fred S. Prouser


Monday, February 16, 2015


I met Gil Cates when the PR firm I worked for was called in to provide intense emergency media relations for the Directors Guild of America in their 1981 contract negotiations with movie producers and networks. Following that intense and successful project, Gil and I stayed in touch and when he was elected DGA President in 1983 he supported my new firm's proposal to become the Guild's new PR counsel. I remained in that position with the DGA for more than twenty years and Gil honored me further along the way by asking me to join him as his personal Public Relations representative when he became the producer of the Oscars in 1989. The last Oscar show Gil produced was in 2008 and after he passed in 2011 I began to recall moments in time from the grinding gears of those years.
Now each awards season puts me into full flashback mode...

"onward and upward with the arts"
                           Gil Cates quoting his brother Joe Cates

OSCAR Week 2015

Welcome to my Oscar Week 2015...thanks to my Showbiz mentor Gil Cates for all these and,lots more memories...

Saturday, February 14, 2015


A holiday created by Hallmark if ever there was one!
Recalling my 20th Century self when February 14 was an annual deadline to buy and send cards and gifts to female friendlies like my wives and my Mom.
Now it just reminds me of the day I met Louis Zamperini in 2004  when I bought a 1992 FordExplorer from his son Luke on that Saturday Valentine Day. We  shared stories about WorldWar II now known to the world from Unforgiven and some about my Dad's D-Day glider infantry point of view. He was an American Hero and I was honored to meet him.
So my 21st Century Valentine Days are much less expensive than they used to be.
No reservations hassles at my local drive-thrus!
No flowers to watch die at a rate of twenty bucks a day!

I miss the chocolate.

Saturday, February 7, 2015

Perth scores two runs in 10 th inning to keep Aussie title dreams alive!

And so my baseball passion has found this wonderful release prior to spring training...

Australia Championship
Best 2  of 3 games
Adelaide BITE

Saturday mornings...

Saturday mornings have always been special to me.
I used to begin every Saturday after 2002 at the dog park from 7 until 9 am.
Now all my dogs have died along with a lot of dog park friends with four and two legs.
NPR Saturday with ScottSimon remains a constant, surviving my personal deaths offering comfort through communal grieving for radio friends like DanielShoor and ScottSimonsMom.
Today I am watching live baseball from Australia on MLB Network. Perth needs to win or their season is over. Adelaide hopes to close out the 2015 Aussie Championship without a third game Sunday.
Oscar movie viewing fills Saturday afternoon, today Birdman and Foxcatcher and Inherent Vice. American Sniper is my fave so far followed by Birdman and Boyhood.
Art is long and life is short.