Abide with me

 

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Hi everybody da harv here and if you will im gonna tell you a little story about somebody I knew way back when I was in the fourth grade. Mrs. O’Shay was one of the more erstwhile teachers any young student might be lucky enough to glean information from as a life experience. Before becoming a full time grammar school teacher, Mrs. O’Shay was an extremely accomplished pianist who struggled along with many to make a living as a professional musician in New York City. And now, my mother and father met her at a “Parent Teachers” open house meeting at our school. Apparently dad picked up on what an accomplished musician Mrs. O’Shay was and they hit it off right away. It also became apparent they had a mutual interest in music in general and hymns in particular. What really amused my father was here was Mrs. O’Shay. This Irish, Catholic, Sunday School teacher, teaching a music class to a group of predominantly Jewish students at Public School 233. I remember the very first hymn Mrs. O’Shay taught us; It was “Abide With Me”. When she asked us if anyone would like to be the first to learn, I was the only student to raise my hand. She had a unique way of teaching beginners. She’d play the music that went with each phrase, then she’d sing it for us, and we would try emulating what she had demonstrated. Here is the first line she played for me to sing: “Abide with me, fast falls the eventide”. When I sang the second phrase (fast falls the eventide) my voice cracked. The class broke out laughing at the sound I made. Without hesitation, Mrs. O'Shay played and sang it for me again. This time I actually got some applause    Well one day, when dad came home from work. The first thing he wanted to know is if I would be willing to ask Mrs. O’Shay to explain the meaning of the saying: Practice what you preach. “OK”, I responded immediately. Of course I did so, knowing my Father had some sort of learning experience up his sleeve. My dad was a very self-taught learned man. To this day it remains hard for me to fathom, Charles Kalmenson didn’t attend school after the fourth grade. So you know and might just get an understanding of what a bright man he happened to be. And though my dad is long gone, his ability to survive life’s oftentimes deliverance of its unexpected changes, remains one of the more gospel significances of who he really was.  The very next day, Mrs. O’Shay explained to our entire class the meaning and values of the bible quote: “Practice what you preach”. What it has in common with the human attainment of success in almost all walks of life as it may affect us in order to benefit all people regardless of their religion or color. From that moment on, I was able to grasp hold of why it was Mrs. O’Shay and Mr. and Mrs. Kalmenson were able to hit it off regardless of the testament. Be it old or new. One of my favorite songs became: “When Irish Eyes are Smiling”. “Sure they’ll steal your hearts away…”. And you know what? They still do.   A day in May, eighty years hence…  Thank you all much, Harvey Kalmenson

A blessing not bearing disguise

 

https://vimeo.com/947584319 Hi there. You know, for me a blessing not bearing disguise. Mine to give, dear friends, acquaintances, and all those you may come in contact with. Here with my story of what God given substantive life is all about. In my humble opinion! Excuse me, yours and mine, maybe?  Now provided without your request or approval. Da harv being who he is or pretends to be, finds himself amongst the many, constantly looking for reasons students today are attempting to place blame on brethren out there who have no history of teaching their children. How and why not to throw the very first punch.            Too long ago for me to recall exactly when it was, but there remains a few pieces from the past that every once and awhile, in my mind's eye, returns for another sitting ovation!   Though still out of step I wasn’t the class clown But better yet My nose wasn’t brown! Kissing up to teachers Not permitted in my small town Brooklyn Nevertheless Thoughts driven by feelings By this kid did abound Bravery is a task to behold Family and friends Love and protect them Like it or not Forever yours Better than gold Remain bold  Given by birth For hearts to nurture Reflect and grow strong Being taught by The young and the old  Living right Respecting your neighbor Not a bill of rights Passed on by congress Rather by immigrants  Mothers and Fathers They weren’t invaders  Teaching you to love this country We stood in the ballparks We stood during parades We all, without exception Waved our American flags Our ministers, priests, rabis  Taught us with guiding hearts   beating with love while Men and women serving the cause  Many of them never returning Echoing prayers for all their brothers and sisters safety Having each other’s back, on foreign landscapes  Fighting together as one nation Under God Believing in each other   One for all, and all for one! You know what? All this stimulated a memory for me… I believe it was 1944. My mom and dad took the family along to some sort of fundraiser. In attendance at our table was my mother and father, my sister Ruth and her husband Al. An army air force engineer gunner, just returned home after being shot down and held captive by the germans. My kid sister Sheila, because she was only two or three. She didn’t make it with us for this event, she wasn’t in attendance. And of course there was da harv. I was either ten or eleven at the time.  At almost all family events, it became my Mother who surveyed all situations, and decided whether or not the affair came up to what she was expecting it to. I must take one short moment to explain, my mother was an absolute American patriot. From the moment her family arrived from Romania, as brand new Americans to be, there could never be a misunderstanding. Lillian Kalmenson had a “Tiger in her tank” when it came to feeling about her country, the United States Of America. Any person who got into a conversation about the USA better be extremely careful about what they had to say. My dad on the other hand was the quiet guy. If there was anything physical to take care of, dad was your man. Make no mistake, Lillian Kalmenson was never far behind.

And so the stage was set. The five of us took our seats at the table, and waited patiently for the fund raiser to begin. As we looked around the room we could see the place was packed with many of our family members at tables around the room. And then the trouble was about to begin. My dad and older sister recognized, much before I did, my mother had become uneasy as she began to look at the presentation podium and the entire room staging.  It suddenly became quiet as the lights flickered for a moment, and then came up to full strength as a group of three or four women entered on stage. The three were introduced to the crowd as representatives of a group none of us at our table recognized. She began to speak to the crowd with a very heavy, not recognizable accent. Her subject immediately began by referencing the audience making donations to her group. In less than one minute, my mother abruptly jumped to her feet. Three of us at our table were not surprised at mom’s action. We had seen her in action before. My brother in law Al had never really understood Lillian’s in action capabilities. This was his first crack at watching a true patriot taking charge! Little da harv was beginning to show his big smile until Dad gave me his look of concern. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn‘t showing disrespect for my mother. I was merely enjoying whatever antic she might be up to. Dad had moved into his protective mode. My mother knew nothing could ever harm her if my father was at her side.    So now, short and sweet, here’s what took place. Without warning my Mom abruptly stands, and interrupts the female speaker who remains shocked by her: “What is it madam?”. My Mom, without hesitation, blurts out: “First of all, I’m not a madam, I’m a Patriot”! Without hesitation the crowd begins to stand and simultaneously raucously applaud. Oh boy, I thought: “they’ll be no stopping her now!” And Mom continued: “What about our National Anthem? And I don’t see an American flag anywhere!” And then the biggest mistake of the evening, “This fundraiser isn’t about money for Americans”, was the woman’s response. “Then it isn’t for us. We’re leaving right now”. With that our family stood together united as one behind my mom. And as our family began to move away from the table, Mom offered her final words and a gesture: “God bless all our boys”. Mom took my brother in-laws arm as we left our table together as one.   And here’s the final note: There were many in that room who followed my Mom’s lead, forever on. Mom didn’t throw the first punch. That evening, she took the fight to them. And as the song says, “Turn Out the Lights…The Party’s over”. And so as I think back to that day of real life nostalgia. It stirs my memory. I remember, and always will, coming home from Korea. Now it had become 1955. Harvey was still a flag waving American kid, age 22. Mom, dad and I sitting there just the three of us alone together at a very emotional moment. Words weren’t necessary. The three of us just quietly holding each other. That’s from me to you, Harvey Kalmenson, a day in May 2024.

Breaking The Mold

 

https://vimeo.com/945044251

Hi everybody. Da Harv here again on a Sunday. Have you ever felt like you just had to break the daily  living mold? Cause man… maybe your longing for a change of pace?  What he has placed Somewhere  Without knowing This person ever seeking Bygone fleeting moments This distant sunrise or sunset Ever closer  Yet drifting into past reflections Pondering personal treasury Possibly lack of same At first viewed  Now passing beauty  New days of dreams  Then sunset Awaiting tomorrow's possibilities  Everlasting treasury diminished   At Sunrise At Sunset There comes a time in this often screwed up business (aka show).  If you still remain naïve enough to insist onreferring to what we do as being a business. Forget about it. It’s not a business my friend, you have a heart condition. Young or old, short or tall, man, women, or what is it. Whatever! It doesn’t matter. Listen now to what another old friend of mine who was hired to put some of his feelings on display: "Dear God, I know you made many, many poor people…. I realize there’s no shame in being poor, but there’s no honor in it either. Is there? What would be so terrible if I had a small fortune?" “Excuse me. Are you da harv?”, this young woman questioned, then asking again with a smile: “C’mon you’re da harv!”. “Are you saying to this fine old gentleman, that he’s da harv?” And she replies very knowledgeably: “Oh you’re da harv.” And the next thing you know she’s got her mother and boyfriend being introduced by her to me. She is now  absolutely certain. As she refers to me as Mr. Kalmenson. It turns out yes I am too prominent to go unnoticed either as da harv or Mr. Kalmenson. I acknowledged to mom, the girl and boyfriend: How I was indeed who the girl told them I was. She became a happy camper as they walked away. I heard her say: “See I told you he was somebody.”  Well it strikes me as pretty funny how a lot of things work out. I’ll give you an example of another strange recognition of sorts. An actor friend of mine entered the waiting room of my recording studio, and to his surprise and astonishment. Six of arguably the most recognizable actors in the world were holding court. They had completed their auditions with me and were enjoying each other’s company. His comment to me, after the fact, was how he was amazed what a comfortable group they turned out to be and how much I must enjoy my work. “That’s quite a treasury, you had there da harv.” If you recognize the song “Sunrise, Sunset” and think about it the way I do. Possibly, you’ll understand the significance of my treasury.  Perhaps I am a rich man. Go figure. Who knew?! -da harv

Without Exception

 

https://vimeo.com/940967948

Hi everybody. It's Sunday, April 28th, 2024.  And I’m thinking back. Amidst a war, united we managed to carry on. It’s a cherished highlight that I have …                                           Thinking about it without exception  The world turned Some knew it would What was it to be called This time, lives touched Together we sought distance Between good and bad Evil too much to contain They must all be destroyed For our families like ours pulled apart  Left were those marching forward All hearts bearing pain And then there were the others  They the scum of the earth enemies  Void of definition nor meaning Enemies moving upon us With unbridled hate  Prospered by unaltered disdain  Place: Brooklyn, New York 1943 Two years into WW2

Well back then, our country had a combined population, men, women, children of 133 million. Sixteen million men and women served in our combined military services. Think about it for a moment. Half the population of our country had stepped forward into the most distinguishable fray the entire world took part in. One way or another.

I was ten years old, during an era for whatever the reason, there existed in our household an nonexpendable degree of joy. “Keep them laughing”, was my parents' determinant ploy. In our family it wasn’t an uncommon event for the four of us to find ways to do something to make our little world a more happier place to be. I had spent the day with my father at the factory. At home that night after completing dinner my father announced for my mother and sisters to hear how proud of me he was that day at work. He wasn’t joking around. My dad’s business partner at the time was a man who was about twenty years older than him. His name was Max Kaplan. An earlier in life event left him unable to move around very well. My dad was absolutely boasting how I had helped Mr. Kaplan, with an untied shoelace. Dad went on to say how he watched and listened to me and explain with great surety: “Please let me help you with that untied shoe, Mr. Kaplan. It’s the same way my dad showed me how to lace up my baseball shoes.” Mr. Kaplan thanked me, and then shook my hand. I may have been ten years old, but I felt like a man. Even my older sister felt my pride.                                            The next day we were all back there again, feeling the reality of the world at home. And yes, even for all the others in places, this ten year old boy had never heard of before.   But what registered for me that day was the most heavily, and remains a pride reference about almost all my neighbors, my friends, and each and every one of my relatives. All of us, without exception, loved the United States of America!  And all of us privileged folks, each and every day continue to do what has made us the greatest country in the world. I’ll raise my glass and salute you all tonight.  God Bless America By Harvey Kalmenson