The Luna Park Gazette

Paul Savage was born in Warren, Ohio in 1925, and like my father, he was a veteran of World War II. Savage was a Marine who earned a Purple Heart at the Battle of Iwo Jima. He would go on to become an actor and writer on such TV shows as 77 Sunset Strip, Murder She Wrote, and the Dukes of Hazard . I’d never heard of Paul Savage until a week or so ago when I saw his name in the credits of an episode of Gunsmoke , the classic western for which he wrote 27 scripts. This particular show was called “ Owney Tupper had a Daughter ,” and I’m still thinking about it after all this time because it’s packed so much drama and raw emotion into one hour. The episode stars the fabulous character actor Jay C. Flippen as Owney, an aging, widowed farmer who has to resort to desperate measures in order to regain custody of his beloved daughter. By time the show is over, Owney has lost his daughter, his friends, and the simple, happy life that he had enjoyed for years. The show, which aired o

In the summer of 1981, I got on a line outside of Notre Dame in Paris waiting for my chance to see the inside of this most famous cathedral. I was 24 years old and one of roughly 12 million people who visit Notre Dame each year. There was a rather heavyset American man standing in front of me and he was talking to this young woman about the church’s history. I was much younger then, with a bit of an attitude, and I was somewhat annoyed with this man’s seemingly nonstop chatter. Who is this know-it-all , I thought, and why the hell does he have to be standing in front of me? We got about 10 feet into Notre Dame when this man became extremely agitated. I suspect it was claustrophobia because he told his companion “I can’t take this,” and staggered out into the daylight. I felt momentarily embarrassed for the guy before taking a tour of the church and checking it off of my list of places to see. After that, it was off to the Eiffel Tower. I hadn’t thought anything more about

I was doing fine until the cat showed up. Getting your smartphone hacked can be a real nightmare. I know this because I had a nightmare where my smartphone got hacked. If that sounds strange to you, don’t worry; it’s about to get a lot weirder. By this time in my life, I should probably be accustomed to the technicolor ravings of the red-eyed mutant carnival that I call my subconscious mind. I’ve been having these bizarre mental home movies for as far back as I can remember, so there shouldn’t be any surprises. And yet I still find ways of freaking myself out. This latest detour into Loonyville began with me calling a former coworker for reasons I don’t recall. She wasn’t home, so I spoke with her husband, who sounded like a nice guy—at least in the dream he did. He even invited me over for dinner. As soon as I got done speaking with this gentleman, I spotted an alley cat across the street. I’m forever posting photos of cats on Facebook and Instagram and I thought this fel

“A ship in harbor is safe — but that is not what ships are built for.” — John A. Shedd I returned to my home Wednesday on the Wave of Wonder. That may sound like an LSD trip or a theme park ride, but it was actually the name of the ferry that I took in lieu of the subway or the express bus. The name of the vessel seemed fitting at the time since I was wondering what the hell I was doing with my life. I’ve some more upheaval recently and whenever that happens I have a habit of reviewing (regurgitating?) all my past missteps, mistakes, and misfortunes in self-destructive spiral to make myself feel even worse. Riding home that windy day, I felt so isolated and alone. I may have been going up the Narrows, but I was all at sea. This latest incident was a failed relationship…sort of. I say “sort of” because this was a long-distance affair that had no hope of becoming real. I wasn’t in love and I knew wouldn’t be relocating, but I was lonely and longing for some kind of connecti