A Class Act

I am friends with Brenda Tremblay (“trom-BLAY;” as in “trombone”), the morning radio-host at WXXI, the classical music radio-station out of Rochester (NY) I listen to.
I’ve listened to WXXI for years; I say it’s the only radio I can stand.
When I come in the house it goes on.

Brenda at the controls.

How and why I became friends with Brenda I can’t remember, but it may be because we are both graduates of Houghton College (“HO-tin;” as in “hoe,” not “how” or “who”), 70-80 miles south of Rochester.
Brenda is 1990; I am Class of ’66. Brenda’s parents are Class of ’64; I remember Brenda’s father.
I’ve never regretted attending Houghton, even though I graduated a ne’er-do-well, and almost got kicked out three times.
Houghton is a religious school.
Houghton was the first place adult authority-figures valued and solicited my opinions, instead of automatically labeling me “despicable” and “of-the-Devil.”
My parents did this — I could not respect my father, and that drove him crazy with rage — plus the powers-that-be in the churches I attended declared me “of-the-Devil.”
A church-deacon once told me I was “degraded.”
My sister, now deceased, told me Houghton is where I flowered.
(She was Class of ’68, but dropped out to get married after two years, and that marriage ended in divorce. Her first of four marriages, although her last was good.)
“So what did you get out of Houghton?” a friend asked.
“A wife,” I said; “and a really good one.”
Plus my penchant for caring about things. They cared about me.
I don’t know as this legacy of caring about things made it to all Houghton students. But it made it to me, and I think Brenda.
Brenda is assembling a documentary about native Rochester composer David Diamond, and I bet it ends up being a class act.
STORY TIME:
After my stroke I volunteered to be on the Boughton (“BOW-tin;” as in “wow”) Park Board to administer the park.
Boughton Park is the old water-supply for a Rochester suburb.
When the suburb outstripped its water-supply, and switched to county water, they sold their water-supply, and three local towns bought it as a town park.
It’s very rustic, almost a nature-preserve. About the only human element is the dams, which make ponds.
The Board decided to keep it rustic; development wasn’t allowed. The state wanted to install a swimming beach, but was sent packing.
I got on the Board to see if I could still do it despite a stroke.

My park brochure.

I didn’t do much, but the Board decided they needed an informational brochure, and since I worked at the Messenger newspaper in Canandaigua at that time, they enlisted me to do it.
They suggested I do a map of the park with its ponds from a tattered xerox.
I refused. No cheap-shots from this kid!
If I was designing that brochure it was gonna be a class act.
It was the old Houghton waazoo. Do it right!
They ended up getting far more than expected, a professional-looking brochure designed by me.
Since I left the Board, they did a four-color brochure, that unfortunately wasn’t as good as mine.
And mine was only el-cheapo one color, black ink on yellowish card-stock.
The new brochure wasn’t designed by an artist, which I apparently am.
I also have gotten into other things, mainly a calendar of my train-photos. I’m a railfan.
It’s the old Houghton waazoo: How can I get Shutterfly, my calendar-producer, to give me a class act?


My calendar cover.

Try this background: NOPE! Try another: that’s more like it! Patterned versus solid; nope, gotta be solid.
Okay, fonts. Try this: NOPE! Looks stupid. Try this: that’s more like it! But maybe we can do better. So try another: there it is.
Okay, how big should the fonts be? Try this: NOPE! Too big. Downsize; too small. Increase a little, just right.
Font-color: black: NOPE! Looks awful. Try maroon: nope! Still looks awful. White: there it is.
Flush-right, flush-left or centered. Try ‘em all. Gotta be centered.
So what pictures do I use? Sometimes my brother gets the better picture. I’m usin’ his instead, even though it’s my calendar.
The eye of the artist has decided.
I feel pretty confident any more. Critics are happy to downplay my abilities, but both my brochure and calendar look pretty good. People tell me how good they are.
(And of course both are only two of things I’ve done. Years ago I did motorsport coverage for a small Rochester newspaper, and during my employ at Regional Transit Service as a bus-driver I produced a voluntary newsletter in my computer for my bus-union.)
Years ago an RIT (Rochester Institute of Technology) photography professor said “You’ve obviously had a liberal-arts education.” He was telling me how well written my term-paper was.
Nope; it was mainly Houghton — and my ability to sling words.
People were telling me what I was doing was impressive; including adult authority-figures.
It’s taken a while to become confident in my abilities.
It’s offsetting a childhood that made me feel inferior and stupid. And I feel like Houghton started it.
Which is why I think Brenda will produce a class act.

• For 16&1/2 years (1977-1993) I drove transit bus for Regional Transit Service (RTS) in Rochester, NY, a public employer, the transit-bus operator in Rochester and environs. My stroke October 26th, 1993 ended that. I retired on medical-disability. I recovered fairly well.