The Herald-News from Passaic, New Jersey • 13

Sunday, January 12, 1992 i Attention: Beware those with dreaded Blitherers Disease Im in an airplane, strapped into my seat, no way to escape. For an hour weve been taxiing around Miami International Airport while lightning tries to hit us. Earlier I was hoping that the plane might at some point actually take off and fly to our intended destination, but now Im starting to root for the lightning, because a direct strike might silence the two women sitting in front of me. Theres only one empty seat between them, but theyre speaking at a decibel level that would be appropriate if one of them were in Cleveland. Also, they both have Blitherers disease, which occurs when there is no filter attached to the brain, so thaj every thought the victim has, no matter how minor, comes blurting right out.

This means that the rest of us passengers are being treated to repartee such as this: First Woman: I PREFER A WINDOW SEAT. Second Woman: OH, NOT ME. I ALWAYS PREFER AN AISLE SEAT. First Woman: THATS JUST LIKE MY SON. HE LIVES IN NEW JERSEY, AND HE ALWAYS PREFERS AN AISLE SEAT ALSO.

Second Woman: MY SISTER-IN-LAW WORKS FOR A DENTIST IN NEW JERSEY. HES AN EXCELLENT DENTIST BUT HE CANT PRONOUNCE HIS Rs. HE SAYS, I'M AFWAID YOU NEED A WOOT CANAL. First Woman: MY BROTHER-IN-LAW JUST HAD THAT ROOT CANAL. HE WAS BLEEDING ALL OVER HIS NEW CAR, ONE t)FTHOSEJAPANESEONES, A JVHADDYACALLEM, LEXIT.

Second Woman: I PREFER A BUICK, BUT Let me tell you, this insurance, who CAN AFFORD IT? First Woman: I HAVE A BROTHER IN THE INSURANCE BUSINESS, WITH ANGINA. HE PREFERS A WINDOW SEAT. Second Woman: OH, NOTME. I ALWAYS PREFER AN AISLE. NOW MY And so it has gone, for one solid hour, a live broadcast of random neural firings.

The harder I try to ignore it, the more my brain focuses on it. But it could be worse. I could be the flight attendant. Every time she walks past the two women, they both shout MISS? Its an uncontrollable reflex. MISS? they are shouting.

CAN WE GET A BEVERAGE HERE? This is maybe the fifth time they have asked this. Im sorry, says the flight attendant, with incredible patience. We cant serve any beverages until after we take off. This answer never satisfies the women, who do not seem to be fully aware of the fact that the plane is still on the ground. Theyve decided that the flight attendant has a bad attitude.

As she moves away, they discuss this in what they apparently believe is a whisper. "SHES VERY RUDE, they say, their voices booming through the cabin, possibly audible in other planes. THEY SHOULD FIRE HER. YES, THEY SHOULD. THERES SUPPOSED TO BE BEVERAGE SERVICE.

Its a good thing for society in general that Tm not a flight attendant, because I would definitely kill somebody no later than my second day. Recently I sat on a bumpy, crowded flight and watched a 40-ish flight attendant, both arms occupied with a large See DAVE, B5 Colorful mural by Robert Birmelin recalls Patersons rich history people who come into the building and see it. -') irmelin, now a Queens, College art I Si eacer received his Masters degree in LjZJ fine arts from Yale in 1960. After receiving a Fulbright fellowship and spending a year in England in 1961, he studied at the American Academy in Rome for three years, shortly after marrying his novelist wife Blair. But long before the Leonia resident was garnering grants and fellowships, he painted mini-portraits on cardboard.

As a little kid, I received my inspiration from a member of my extended family who I called my grandfather, although he wasn't really, Birmelin said. His grandfather encouraged theyoungsterto paint, using shirt cardboards (inserts placed inside pressed shirts) as a canvas. By 1949, during his sophomore year at Bloomfield, High School, Birmelin came under the tutelage of now-retired art teacher Dorothea Fjscher, who said the artist was a superb student, not only academically, but you just knew he had artistic talent as well. He could do anything artistically. All I had to do was ask him.

Fischer also said Birmelin was always serious about his work. By Pasquale DiFulco Staff Writer ew Jersey artist Robert Birmelin sat atop a stool in his paint-splattered Chelsea studio, taking enormous pauses between sentences. The man chose words like a careful shopper consider, and only then, select. Outside, the faint sounds of Manhattan traffic provided the perfect backdrop for his latest work, a highwayscape illustrating the bustle of a Northern New Jersey expressway asseen from a Hudson County overpass. Another Birmelin mural evokes a much more serene mood the recently completed, three-paneled painting that hangs in the entrance of Patersons new Federal Building.

The mural, which depicts a tightrope walker beneath a lemon sky crossing the Passaic River Gorge near the citys Great Falls, was inspired by a historical photo Birmelin found djuring his research. (The photo) seems to have been done in the 1870s, and as far as I could find out, it probably was an aerialist named Harry Leslie, said the Newark-born, Bloomfield-raised Birmelin. The thing that struck me about that time, in the late 19th apparently aerialists walking across the chasm were a major type of entertain ment. of public spectacle was about the grandest you could have. After being commissioned and financed by the Federal General Services Administrations Art-in-Architecture program, Birmelin set out to recreatea moment of one ofthe most prosperous, optimistic times in the history of (Paterson).

The 6-foot, 2-inch high by 15-foot, 6-inch wide mural can be viewed and enjoyed as purely presentational art Leslie, concentrating on his next step; while below, families gather not only for the spectacle, but for a picnic, to wade in the water withtheir children or to walk their dog. But on a more cerebral level, Birmelin said the painting is representational the ancient falls to the left represent the citys power, and their spewing, unharnessed waters stand for a primeval time. To the right are the mills, where you get a sense of what people made of the place, the industrial landscape, and you juxtapose those with the man crossing the two, the artist said. Bermelin took artistic license when constructing the painting, because the scope of the mural doesnt exist. Theres no place you could stand to see all that, so I walked around the falls, taking several positions and combining them, Birmelin said.

It's credible, believable, though in fact there is no one place you could see it. But I wanted to make a picture that was very accessible to the See ART, B6 fTodaw 5s DoCsFalmg 3 GCn anc off to work and school with news, features and light entertainment. Today" was the invention of Sylvester Pat Weaver, a writer-producer in Los Angeles and San Francisco in the era when East Coast broadcasts were not relayed live and the West Coast created its own shows. From the very beginning it was obvious that we had to have an 18-hour service, Weaver said. In the early days I thought more likely we would do a kind of rise-and-shine show, which we had done with success in radio." TV news was in its infancy.

Cameras were big and mostly studio-bound; film took hours to develop. Today, however, had all night to get someplace where news was happening, get the pictures and get back to the studio. Thats what it became, Weaver said, the principle of By Scott Williams Associated Press NEW YORK Then, as now, it started at 7 a.m., Eastern time. The announcer, Jack Lescoulie, said, This is Today. Then, the bow-tied man on the little screen, slightly startled-looking behind his spectacles, looked at the camera and spoke: Well, here we are, and good morning to you.

The very first good morning of what I hope and suspect will be a great many good mornings between you and me, said host Dave Garroway, opening the first Today show. Here it is, Jan. 14, 1952, when NBC begins a new program called Today, and if it doesn't sound too revolutionary, I really believe this begins a new kind of television. That was 40 years ago Tuesday, and Garroway was more right than he knew. Today has a generation or two unparalleled means of communication which NBC has assembled into a single room in New York.

Garroway, as communicator, juggled live telephone hookups to London and Frankfurt. Then came a live remote from Washington, and the Pentagon, where a reporter buttonholed Adm. William Fechteler, chief of naval oper-ations, on his way to work. Hows the Navy going these days, admiral? the reporter asked. Guess its all right, Fechteler replied.

It was there last night when I left it Thank you very much, sir. Barrump-bump! But the show also had live remotes from Chi-cagO and Grand Central Terminal. The families of two soldiers in Korea were brought to the studio, where they saw and spoke to the boys in Korea. 'An author was interviewed serving the audience with the information they needed to know: What time is it? Hows the weather? What happened last night? What's new today? What are the big stories? What are the funny stories? And we gradually put together1 that kind of a show. Today was blessed by its studio, the RCA Exhibition Hall, a ground-floor sales area with big windows onto 49th Street That street-level vantage, looking out and looking in, gave the show a "live immediacy that said, wordlessly, what Today would try to make of the new medium.

It was really quite a different kind of a show than the audience was used to, Weaver said. And to be sure, not everyone was ready for it We are going to try very much to put you more clearly in touch with the world we live in. Garroway told that first Today audience, by this magnificent. In 1987, "Today hosts Jane Pauley and Bryant Gumbel broadcast from Chinas Great Wall. about her new book; Garroway showed the front pages of morning newspapers; he called the U.S.

Weather Bureau. live, to get weather reports from around the country. (The show was seen in 31 cities). using the sign-off he'd adopted in his Chicago radio and TV days. Garroway raised his palm and closed the show with one word.

Peace." See TODAY, B7.