Please say hello to anyone who knows me

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Hi everybody. Da harv here and I’d call this little piece: “Please say hello to anyone who knows me.” And I’d like to give you a little reason behind this thing. This little note to all of you out there, was stimulated by a man who became a friend of mine. “Ed Asner”. We proved together that differences with regard to politics can exist without dampening mutual love and respect for each other! Ed said to me one day after we had completed a voice over session together: “Boy Harv, they sure know your name all over the place. Don’t they?”. And as he was leaving the booth, Ed gave me a very wry smile, while flipping me the finger, middle finger. Well, Once upon a time. A noted celebrity, I can’t remember who he or she happened to be, seemed proud of the fact, while on a gig that they had in New York City. They had honored my less than serious request to ask an industry contact if they recognized the name Harvey Kalmenson. “Everybody knows da harv”, was, and has been the consensus reply for close to fifty years. So, is it any wonder my hat size has become demonstrably larger during the course of these many years?  The fact of the matter was and remains, it’s not a moniker created by yours truly. For those of you out there who have successfully emerged from the baby diaper era of life, be it known to all: The proper screen credit, was unceremoniously crowned for me (as) “da harv”, was bestowed in Chicago, by Cathy’s, now deceased “uncle Chuck; I ceremoniously referred to him as “Uncle Chucky”. In Chuckie's Chicago mindset he had placed me into the super great crowd of: da bears, da bulls, da cubs, da sox, da hawks, da sky, da stars, and da fire. I’ll bet you, without equivocation, Chicago sports fans are of equal demonstrative nature, on par with any fans in these great United States of ours. Certainly the term fan was derived from the word “fanatic”, is a perfect fit for them. You know, the other day I looked up the meaning of the word fan, or fan base. Here’s what I found: fan base it is a noun the fans of a sports team, pop music group, etc., considered as a distinct social grouping. Okay, I’ll buy that. You see… da harv has had this deep rooted desire in his belly, to know what someone is saying, or trying to convey by their message. For the life of me, try as I may, the more I listen to politicians, oftentimes the less true meaning I come away with. This condition of mine began many years ago. Here’s an example of where my feelings stem from. As a ten year old, back in Brooklyn, New York, all of my close friends…the kids who hung with me at P.S. 233, from early morning and until the sun went down, we were all true sports fans. Usually provided by nature, it was baseball, basketball, and football according to the season we were in. For da harv it was always the Dodger’s all the way. The team, the players, and their opponent teams in the National League were my responsibility to know everything about. That obligation also was religiously accepted by each of my baseball loving friends from the neighborhood. We were all from birth and to the exact moment at hand, complete and unadulterated Dodger fans! And if you’re interested here’s where the word unadulterated came from…

And of course there was some added attraction at Ebbets Field. What you’re looking at is the Dodgers Sym-phony. Phony the accent to the way you pronounce their name. They were originally Shorty and Borther Lou, before they were actually named Sym-phony. At Ebbets Field the fans themselves were the artistes. They included Hilda Chester and her cowbell, Eddie Bettan and his police whistle, and the Dodgers Sym-phony, as I said earlier, and a five, six, or seven-man unit of comically wacky amateur instrumentalists. Today I remember them all with much affection and nostalgia. It was an absolute understanding. If you lived in Brooklyn, you were and remained a lifetime Dodger fan. As a matter of fact the Sym-phony went all the way back to 1937. And boy did they crowd into that stadium.

And yes, you got that right. That’s Jackie Robinson, Number 42. He became our hero. My Dad described Jackie as a courageous man amongst men. And on that day, that fact wasn’t recognized by me at that exact moment in my young life. But it was a moment the world would find to be without equal! There we were, in Brooklyn, New York. In a place called Ebbets Field, preparing to not only watch a baseball game, but this fourteen year old boy, that’s me, and his Dad were about to experience arguably the most historic day in their lives. There I was alongside a man of genuine stature, my Father, Charles Kalmenson. His schooled academic prowess was what he managed to glean up until completion of his New York fourth grade education. An immigrant child who came here at age two only went to the fourth grade. What follows is a foto of my dad and I.

By the end of his life, Charlie, his IQ was well above average. He believed in the support of the human being. Dads credo was a simple one, live, learn, and share with those equally endowed with similar desires to succeed. There were thirty four thousand people jam packed in to watch the entrance of the very first black man to play major league baseball. I remember my Father’s words, “Sometime in the future, you’re going think about how much more important than a baseball game this really was.” And now, just an aside, a short fact of life I got from my Dad, and went on to observe within the commonality of Jackie Robinson, in that order. What I watched them do in their life’s practices, found its way into the family and business world of the USA. From beginnings, middles, and durations in this life of ours, we must feel the comforts of belonging as human beings, wherever we happen to be. Whether by design, or the road we either take by design, or happen to stumble on. In my case, dealing with a variety of humanity has become my design though not necessarily fostered by the extent of my human exertion. A little more history about da harv here… After completing high school, then becoming a starting pitcher on the Santa Monica Jr. college baseball team. I was offered an opportunity to play professional baseball after signing a baseball contract, I was injured by a fluke, one of life’s unexpected injuries. Surely that wasn’t a comfort zone! It became a first of what would become one of my life’s sizable stumbles. I then joined the army, and served until I ended the Korean Conflict. Woah! It had almost ended me. I did my time and was looking forward to my journey back home. Probably the single biggest stumble of my life. I didn’t realize what a good fit for me the army had become. I stumbled unaware of what a gifted leader type I had become. Anyway…hindsight is a wonderful thing, isn’t it. And so it’s time to complete my little diatribe. Stumbling is what God gives us all a great affinity to accomplish along the way. Personally, I should be in the “Guinness Book Of World Records” for “Stumbles.” Note to all of you people out there: To the best of my knowledge, Guinness doesn't have such a book. They discovered, there is no book out there big enough to list the entire world population of people who have stumbled along the way, individually by name. And that concludes my little story of the day for Sunday. Have a great Sunday and the rest of your week. Try not to stumble. Cordially, As Uncle Chucky would say: Thanks, da harv

A Lasting Inspiration

 

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Hi everyone, Da Harv here and welcome to my library. Besides my Dad… He became my next favorite…WIT! Winston Churchill, November 30, 1874 - January 24, 1965. That would make him a Sagittarius just like Da Harv.

It was on or about 1965, when I had reached the ripe old age of 32. It was then when I began devoting an almost monthly experience into the life and times of perhaps the greatest world leader that ever lived. He was Sir Winston Churchill. In May 1940, Churchill, “British Bulldog”, as he was known, became “Prime Minister '' of Great Britain. For over fifty years, I’ve been sporadically enjoying listening to words of inspiration being offered by my favorite “Nobel Prize Winner”, for Literature, my hero as well, Winston Churchill. I’d like to offer to all that know Da Harv as an educator my recommendation of a book I am currently in the process of personally enjoying. It’s titled, “The Definitive WIT of Winston Churchill”. It was edited by Richard Langworth.

In my opinion, you won’t find a more definitive work than what Richard M. Langworth has been able to compile. The sheer volumes of Winston Churchill’s work are represented in the most comprehensive compilation of “Churchill Witticisms" I’ve ever come across.

Philip Clark was a voice-over actor who for many years came to our studio to audition for voice over commercials. Aside from being a very talented performer, Philip was a “Winston Churchill”, high-powered buff, and prideful enthusiast of “Winnies” work, and it goes nice together. He would’ve enjoyed that. Of course, it also talks about drinking and cigar smoking habits. I enjoyed Philip’s stories, and he in turn showed equal relish for mine. (although I would never claim to have risen to the comprehensive heights of Churchill's expertise Philip did). Philip and I enjoyed every discussion we ever had about “Bulldog”. It made us both laugh out loud I might say. My favorite to tell Philip about was how I worked many of our Winston Churchill stories into my teaching repertoire. Especially when the class was made up of younger people who hadn’t known much about this great man. And one remembrance discovered by Richard Langworth that is particularly charming: “The British Empire and the United States will have to be somewhat mixed together in some of their affairs for mutual and general advantage.” And then Winston might’ve coughed, cleared his throat and began singing. …Like the Mississippi, it just keeps rolling along. It was 1940 Winston Churchill sang all the way back to Downing Street in the back of his car after his BBC Broadcast of that speech. And from my musical volume three of Great Speeches of the 20th century (cut #3). Prime Minister Winston Churchill has duplicated his Address to the nation on the R.A.F (Royal Air Force). “… this was their finest hour.” And that little phrase in that one speech that one time was taught in every college that even remotely touched on politics. In that moment, the city of London Number 10 Downing Street was the prime target of the German Luftwaffe. That term: “this was the finest hour” was from the greatest leader of that era. He walked, or you could say barged out on to the street knowing it was the most dangerous thing he had ever done in his life. And huddled with people in the streets as bombs fell around him. It was London, England, June 18th, 1940. A time for the world to remember and never ever forget. And please listen closely my dearest of friends. At the time of this broadcast, our great world leader may have been tired, but never out as his country’s foremost leader.

For some reason, children love hearing about how close the USA and Great Britain our friends across the pond were and remain with us today. You're all very welcome to listen. Love and learn. Truly yours, the very humble, Da Harv. And were Churchill here today, he would say as a Bulldog: “As well you should be!” -da harv

Epitome

 

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Hi Everybody. This particular Sunday, February 4, 2024, is and will remain historically a wet day! I can remember back, people talking about this or that. Trying to figure out a quandary they all seemed to be in at the time.Nary a man, woman, or child has one day or another when they find themselves in a universal quandary.    Because every day is different? Yes, that was a question mark. Is that what it’s going to be from now and from this day forward? Whoops that was another question mark?   Years ago, it appeared to me as a very young and uninformed guy, life was loaded with a preponderance of “what if’s”. I was beginning to hear, and learn about all of those things. I didn’t realize it then, but I was developing an overpowering desire to move up in the world. After all, it was time! Harvey Kalmenson had just turned thirteen.   Life’s what if’s, from questions to positive thinking encouraged reaching for the epitome I was determined to accomplish during my lifetime.   Tonight, before you fall asleep. You might try something I try quite often. Present your secret mind bent to any and all who may be paying attention. You see, while you're sleeping for whatever happens. -  For what you And you alone seek  Life as you order it to become Remaining forever Perhaps a single day longer.  Admiring dreams ordered  They became forever yours The embodiment of personification A God like “Dream Road” The “Epitome” for where you belong And then the very next day, With the mere encouragement of last night A dream enters your real world Replacing a “what if”, You’ve received a “what is”, Likely an angel's reply Two new roads to choose from They call it a “fork”. Both roads look the same. But one side may lead to a lake. And you dear friend, haven’t learned to swim, as yet. What to do? What to take with? What to leave behind?   “What a difference a day makes”

Dina Washington What a difference a day made, twenty four little hours Brought the sun and the flowers where there use to be rain My yesterday was blue dear Today I'm a part of you dear My lonely nights are through dear Since you said you were mine Oh, what a difference a day made There's a rainbow before me Skies above can't be stormy since that moment of bliss That thrilling kiss It's heaven when you find romance on your menu What a difference a day made And the difference is you, is you My yesterday was blue dear Still I'm a part of you dear My lonely nights are through dear Since you said you were mine Oh, what a difference a day made There's a rainbow before me Skies above can't be stormy since that moment of bliss That thrilling kiss It's heaven when you find romance on your menu What a difference a day made And the difference is you, is you, is you. Every day is different. Here’s a poem I read many years ago. It’s called “The Road Not Taken” by “Robert Frost: The Road Not Taken Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one road as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth.   Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear. Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same,   And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.   I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.   And so I'll just repeat again. I found, every day is different, isn’t it? At least that is what I found to be an absolute. If there is a bottom to it all. Why not look up? You may find what I have. The very top may just become an endless perch to swing with and on!   Thank you all for listening and reading what I have compiled during my different forks in the road!                                  da harv here, signing off!

Have you noticed? There's been a change in the weather?

 

There'll be a change in the weather;

And a change in the sea

From now on there'll be a change in me;

My walk will be different, my talk and my name --

Nothin' about me gonna be the same

I'm gonna change my way of livin'

And if that ain't enough

I'm gonna change the way I strut my stuff

Cause nobody wants you when you're old and gray --

There'll be some changes made today

There'll be some changes made.

Julie London was a mainstay in our country at the time. Lots of arguments going with what’s going to happen to advertising, but the fact was if you were around it did nothing but good. And if you happen to be interested…I directed Julie London on a VO audition a little more than 40 years ago. The biggest money spenders on TV advertising at the time were the tobacco companies, mainly cigarettes. I mean you couldn’t watch a movie without seeing a noted star smoking. “Julie London” was one of them. Who was known to smoke three packs every day. Her cause of death was attributed to lung cancer. Didn’t come as a surprise.

Never the less we had an awful lot of good things going on to look up to. On April 1, 1970, President Richard Nixon signed legislation officially banning cigarette ads on television and radio. You could safely say my dear friends, that- that legislation by our congress, men and women, have been some of the great moves ever by our politicians. Some fifty plus years ago! Can you imagine that? The diminishing factor of not smoking has considerably helped cut into the main cause of lung cancer. Not just in our beautiful United States of America, but all over this planet. FYI: What was a twenty cent per pack of cigarettes then. Today in many places costs as much as six bucks. 

But long before that, there was a time that I was in the group known as little kids it was a given. Dad came home from work, and somehow, some way we played catch. It became our father and son ritual. Most importantly, my father was teaching me how to learn a thing or two of value each and every day we were together. Baseball became his driving force for making it easy for him to teach me things. Well, here's kind of an example:

It was just one single day, I guess. When he came home from work. He was saying to me: “Well, there's going to be a lot more scoring in baseball next year.” And I said: “What do you mean by that, Dad?” And he said: “Well, rumor has it that they're going to make the ball livelier, there's going to be more scoring because people are going to be hitting more home runs.” And I said to him: “How in the world, did you know that?” I was interested. He had my attention. He said: “Well, the inside of a baseball, was stuffed with things. You find out that what's inside is pretty dead. You know, the ball doesn't bounce very well anymore. So, baseball, it's just made to be hard and last a little longer.” That was the year of buying something and making it last. As opposed to the enjoyment it gave you. “But now whatthey're talking about doing is. Putting a livelier like piece of cork inside so that when the batter hits it, it'll go further.” 

He went on to tell me how it wasn’t really that difficult to do. He pointed out to me the people who run baseball did the very same thing many years ago. When a ballplayer named “Babe Ruth” broke the home run record and hit sixty in one season. The owners were giving the people what they wanted: More excitement at the games. (Well, It’s just like today. The more people who come out to the ballpark, the more money the team owners make. It’s good for all concerned. They call it “Capitalism”)

The clock kept ticking, I kept growing and low and behold then came along… “Only In America”

         Many years ago, I read a book entitled “Only In America”. It was written by an author named “Harry Golden”. Hard to believe, the year was 1958. (The not yet da harv was twenty-five years of age). Free of being as prideful as I am today. (It wasn’t any comparison; I still had a long way to go with the army and all.) About our American accomplishments, “Harry Goldens” in-depth observations struck a lasting note with me forever more. 

         Thinking back often times for me has been the direct stimulus for forward movement. The story of the greatest country in the history of the world continues to be told. Writers, politicians, and the most ardently meaningful human contributors to life and the betterment of man continue to unabashedly sing the praises of what the American way of life continues to build from within.

Please listen to my patriotic credo that musically follows.

It’s entitled: “Vote Them Out. It’s What Americas All About”.

Music by Todd Carlon

Lyrics by Harvey Kalmenson AKA da harv

         Have you noticed? There's been a change in the weather?

Before picking up the quill...

 One lived

One died

One smiled

While another sighed

Before crying

Life’s Provocations causing

The unknown no longer

Yet reason without explanation’s given

Upon thousands of days

Many years have come and gone

We grasp and linger

Life’s soldiers

Carrying on

Another day will be displayed 

Once more we pray 

When good passes us by

We waited too long

“Too late for dreams”

My latest title

Skips in and out

Without meaning

Within one’s mind eye

Perhaps living has exceeded want or need

“An Uneasy Occurrence” 

       It was two o’clock in the morning, during one of those humorless, provoking, un-rehearsed moments which seemingly come to visit more often these days.  Without warning, I‘m unable to sleep. In general, I’m pissed off. Really, really pissed! 

 

(Two hours had passed since placing my most recent book on hold; It sat on a nightstand adjoining my bed, of course with all lights out. As is the usual case, I had dropped off into “da harv’s” dreamland. Some way, somehow, almost always unsolicited, they arrived:  a parade of characters moved in and out. This time the place was Brooklyn, New York, the year 1941.A group of children, under the watchful eyes of their mothers, serving as protective guards, kept a vigil as their children marched in a circle, each waving little handheld American flags.)

       Ours is a free country! I don’t like the idea that it’s becoming an acceptable format for regular people like me to take their families, and to influence friends, and business associates as well, into moving from this beautiful world of California, in order to restore some form of financial independence as merely the mainstay for possible survival.

       Wait a minute, I thought. Where did all the marching kids go? And what happened to Public School 233? And how in the name of hell did I get to be ninety years old? All those books, and all those writers. “In and out, up and down, and all around town”. There with me whether a dream or awake, I still march and carry my American flag. Asleep or awake.

                

                                    https://vimeo.com/904613724?share=copy

-da harv

New Year News

 

From  KALMENSON & KALMENSON’S  EDUCATION DEPARTMENT! Our GLOBAL world of voice-over high fives continues with the one and only  Kalmenson Method For Voice Acting

HOT TIP! TAKE ADVANTAGE OF OUR CURRENT DISCOUNTED TUITION RATES WHILE SEATS REMAIN AVAILABLE!! We will return to our pre-covid full-rate tuition structure commencing with new enrollments starting February 1st, 2024.  Please visit our website, and then call us to secure your reservation as a participating student.

Preserving Our Integrity

  The year was 1947 when I first got my California drivers permit. I was fourteen years old. Whether I was a good driver or not was debatable. At the time, in the state of California, a fourteen year old wasn’t permitted to drive after dark. Two years quickly past and I became eligible at age sixteen for a regular drivers license. Watch out world, day or night, wet roads or dry, sleepless, or well rested, I was as most boys of sixteen are: integrity-free while driving a car. A thwarted mind behind the steering wheel of an automobile, usually going a little too fast for society to cope with. And speaking of going places… my buddies and I never had to concern ourselves with the cost of gasoline; 25 cents per gallon in 1947.

I rather doubt if any of us had heard the word integrity as yet. Personally, I had no idea what it meant, up and until I heard my high school baseball coach use it as a description, praising his men who were players on the city of Los Angeles. Our Coach "Harry Brubaker" was given a standing ovation when introduced as the man who led his men to a national record of forty-three straight wins, over a two year period. “During my long career as a teacher and a coach”, he began “I’ve been privileged to work with many fine athletes and students. But never ever had a group of young men to put on this magnificent display of team integrity before. Men I’m indeed proud to have worked with you all!”. My Father, who was in attendance, was absolutely beaming with pride. That evening, I looked up the word integrity. Like father and son privately we celebrated unabashedly! It was seventy two years ago, hence, thank God the burning remains.

Above all

Burn with it

Learn from it

Teach with it

Allow it to grow

Where there is truth

Integrity will abound

Yours to sustain forever

HK / 12 / 23

                                                  

                                            -da harv

Integrity: the quality of being honest hand having strong moral principles; moral uprightness: he is known to be a man of integrity. 2 the sate of being whole and undivided: upholding territorial integrity and national sovereignty. º the condition of being unified, unimpaired.