40 years ago

More from the “sick” man in Vancouver, Washington, who was sick and tired of so much that was going on in this country that he wrote an open letter to a thousand or so U.S. newspapers. Here’s more of what caused him to say, in effect, “I’m sick and tired of it all and I don’t have to take it anymore!” (Thank you, Howard Beall, from the 1976 movie, “Network.”)

I am sick of not being able to take my family to a movie unless I want them exposed to nudity, unwarranted violence or the glorification of narcotics.

I am sick of being told it is wrong to use napalm to end a war overseas – but if it’s a bomb or Molotov cocktail at home, I must understand the provocations.

I am sick of pot smoking entertainers deluging me with their moral standards on late-night television.

I am sick of riots, marches, protests, demonstrations, confrontations and other mob temper tantrums of people intellectually incapable of working with the system.

Again, it’s understood that people have minds, and one thing they’re capable of doing is changing them – by themselves and by events.

From the Aug. 26, 1970 Forest Park Review

30 years ago

Shaving is a chore, not an art. This accursed daily ritual was the subject of a syndicated article here. Here’s how the unsigned writer put it.

“The object of the shave is to get it over with. No need to be perfect. If you come out of it looking half-way decent, you’ve done well. If you shaved with cold water, you’re a sap. If you soften up your beard with a hot, wet wash cloth, good! If you soap up the cloth, that’s even better. Don’t get bogged down in pre-rinsing, or oil on bristles or any other “wife” things. This is your domain. Don’t lop off pimples, warts or moles, especially around the notorious chin-cheek area. Don’t scarify. Give yourself a quick yet sincere wink in the mirror. When you’re lookin’ good, you’re feelin’ good, right? Right!”

From Aug. 6, 1980 Forest Park Review

20 years ago

The Wonderful World of Show Biz was splashed across the page with the face of Forest Parker Ben Goodman, the subject of a full page Review feature in the summer of 1990.

“At age 6 Ben came to the States with his Irish family. Eleven years later, happy to get school out of the way, he sought work as an actor in Chicago and later in California. It was not to be. Except for a few walk-ons as an extra with a line or two, the shiny, slightly tarnished crown of La-La Land kept eluding him. Marriage and a firstborn played their roles bringing the Goodman family back to Chicago, then Forest Park where he and wife Laura have lived since 1965. From being a meat cutter in Elmhurst to bartending here, he covered his day jobs.”

Since then it’s been stage appearances for Ben (“But never enough”) including the title role in Finian’s Rainbow and a near-miss appearance at the Goodman Theatre with Brian Denehy in a Robert Falls’ production of Eugene O’Niell’s The Iceman Cometh – only a final rehearsal script cut prevented his appearance in the play.

So, the view behind was bittersweet but the blessings since have been bountiful. “It’s been a gorgeous ride,” said Ben Goodman. “And I’m properly indebted to my wife for her sacrifices and my kids for the joys they bring me.” Which sounds as much like life as Show Biz.

From the August 29, 1980 Forest Park Review

10 years ago

A classic case of Wrong Move, Wrong Motive, Wrong Timing and Wrong Idea.

However, Nice Try. A 41 year-old Forest Park man got arrested at 2 a.m. at Circle and Jackson when he stopped his car, exited, and wearing a T-shirt with the word POLICE across it, approached an unmarked squad car carrying a police detective. The fellow carried a police-style flashlight, the better to see his error. He was escorted to the holding pen at the village hall.

From the Aug. 2, 2000 Forest Park Review

Bob was born in Yonkers, N.Y., in 1932. His family encouraged him to join the Air Force (ours) during the Korean War. There, he fell into the clutches of Barbara Miles. They still have two world-class daughters, Jill and Cara. “Each of the four of us likes the other three of us,” says Bob.