senior-spectrum.com - Stan Gilliam

School’s Religious Chick Didn’t Hatch Lawsuits

With all the really important things going on in the world at the moment, I doubt that very many people are waiting with bated breath and agog with anticipation over the decision of the U.S. Supreme Court over whether or not “under God” will remain as part of the Pledge of Allegiance.

Whatever the decision, it’s doubtful that the earth will rock on its axis, but the whole issue reminded me of one of those church and state issues which could have — but fortunately didn’t — arise several decades ago.

It was springtime, back in the days before “Easter vacation” had evolved into “spring break,” and one of those junior high schools in the north area came out with a special edition of its mimeographed student newspaper, complete with some student art work on the cover.

What the young artist had drawn was an egg with the top of the shell missing and the edge jagged. And from the shell was emerging a newly hatched — actually hatching — chick. A proper secular tribute to the season, wouldn’t you say?

Ah, but above that chick-spouting egg was the legend, “Alleluia, He Is Risen!” Now was that or was that not injecting religion into the issue?

Actually, both sides could have been offended. Those of a religious bent might have claimed it was mocking belief in the Resurrection of the Messiah by illustrating it with that chicken and egg.

On the other hand, nonbelievers might well have objected to injecting what they looked at as a symbol of religious faith.

The fact of the matter is that no one did anything. There were no public objections from anyone — no sermons preached, no letters to editors, no suits filed in any courts.

And that, it seems to me, is exactly the way things should have been. No offense meant. No offense taken.

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Looking back on my own childhood Easters, despite being an only child, an only grandchild and an only great-grandchild, they were not exactly unqualified successes.

Understand, there was no lack of bountiful baskets everywhere I went. The grandparents — all four of them — and two great-grandparents were lavish when it came to laying on the chocolate.

It was my mother who insisted that virtually everything had to be saved “for later.” I’m telling you, “later” never came.

I got a lot of doubletalk about “saving your teeth” and the like, and you want to know how much good that did? Those choppers that were “saved” by chocolate deprivation were all gone, every last one, before I was 40.

Of course, a lot of what mothers do “for the children” is really done for themselves. Mine was determined to keep me in short pants forever, I think, and as a first or second grader, I had had enough. After much begging, she had my seamstress grandmother run up some long pants for me, and I was inordinately proud as I went off to school.

Except they weren’t really boy-type long pants. They were what were known as “beach pajamas,” which were worn only by girls, and every kid in school knew what I had on.

I’d been conned. I was humiliated. And I was unforgiving. That was one put-down I never forgot. And that I never forgave.

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Musical notes …

… Each year I give a plug to the first pre-Jazz Jubilee performance that comes to my attention, and this year — again this year, I should say — the first arrived from Congregation Beth Shalom, at 4746 El Camino Ave., in Carmichael, more than a month ahead of time, telling me that Fat Sam’s Band from Scotland will perform from 7 p.m. to 9 p.m. on Saturday, May 22; call (916) 485-4478 for ticket information …

… While it’s in conjunction with their 50-year reunion, Grant Union High’s class of 1954 invites all alumni, family, friends and organ aficionados to a concert by Tom Thompson on the George Wright Memorial Pipe Organ in the Grant High auditorium, 1400 Grand Ave., at 1 p.m., Sunday, May 2; tickets are $8 at the door or in advance by calling Sondra Fuson, (916) 485-9033.

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You may not believe me, but as far as I’m concerned, the New Year started last Friday. Right, that’s when the River Cats opened the home baseball season at Raley Field, and — these columns have to be written ahead of time, you know — I trust we were there.

Actually, the Pacific Coast League season began April 8, with the River Cats in Edmonton for four games, followed by four in Salt Lake City. Why schedule-makers would put the earliest games of the season in the Canadian province of Alberta followed by the chilly clime of Utah doesn’t make much sense, but some guy in Alabama who’s never been west of the Mississippi probably is hired to do that job.

I recall one time in the late 1930s when it stormed so hard in Sacramento that groundskeepers were out at the ballpark burning gasoline on the infield to try to dry it enough to play. Then there was a later season — probably 1948 or 1949 — when an entire opening week was rained out and the Senator Hotel bar was crowded with Solons, Seals, sports writers and a couple of high school teachers, all living it up.

Speaking from personal knowledge, I’m sure the last named were definitely not at their most effective in the classroom that week.

So now it’s another ball park, another team name and even another century. The uniforms are no longer of heavy flannel and the players’ pants sag down around their ankles. Umpires no longer wear coats and ties in the hottest weather even thought the Almighty did not want them ever to be comfortable. But, thank the Lord, it’s the same old game.

Play ball!

After retiring from a long and respected career with The Sacramento Bee, Stan Gilliam found that he just couldn't stop writing. So he brought his "Stan's Sacramento" column to the Spectrum, where it has been a favorite of readers for 15 years ... and counting.

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