Brushes with greatness, from Super Bowl rings to Jagger sings

Column: Super Bowl reminds Tammy Malgesini of the time she had a big ring to fill.

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By TAMMY MALGESINI

Inside my shoes

Published on February 9, 2016 10:59AM

During the introduction of past Super Bowl MVPs during the pre-game festivities of Super Bowl 50, I flashed back to when I tried on a championship ring from Super Bowl III.

Most of the celebrities I’ve met over the years are athletes. Although I’ve never really been one to get star struck, I admit I did get a little misty-eyed when I met baseball greats Bob Gibson and Don Mattingly. It should come as no surprise to those who know me that I actually asked Steve Thompson if I could try on his Super Bowl ring.

My husband, John, lived with Steve’s family for awhile as a foster kid while growing up near Everett, Washington. Steve played at Lake Stevens High School and the University of Washington before beginning his NFL career as a defensive lineman with the New York Jets.

Chosen in the second round of the 1968 draft, Steve missed the better part of his rookie season due to an injury. However, he returned before the end of the season and played on special teams when the Jets won Super Bowl III.

Being inquisitive, I asked Steve if he took showers with quarterback Joe Namath. He laughed, and confirmed they used the same locker room facilities.

A big man with gigantic hands, the ring was humongous on my finger. Always a huge sports fan, the ring was practically as big as the smile on my face.

Also, back in the day, I ran with Steve Prefontaine. Despite the fact he died nearly 41 years ago, he hardly requires an introduction. (For those unfamiliar with Pre, he ran at the University of Oregon, competed in the 1972 Olympics and at one time was the American record holder of seven different distance events).

I didn’t think it was a big deal — Prefontaine was a Coos Bay kid and was in town to visit his folks. A 1969 Marshfield High School graduate, Prefontaine hung out with our track team while we practiced that spring day in 1975.

Another brush with celebrity I’ve had over the years was running into Warren Zevon (“Werewolves of London,” “Excitable Boy” and “Poor Poor Pitiful Me” are among his more well-known hits).

Barbe Peerson, who could recite Zevon’s lyrics probably as well as the baritone-voiced singer himself, and I were in Portland to see a show. With festival seating, we got to the venue early so we could get a good seat.

Warren Zevon came out of the men’s restroom about the same time Barbe exited the women’s. I gestured to Barbe so she would notice who it was. “Excuse me,” he said.

“Warren Zevon talked to me,” I later told my husband about the encounter.

“He had to, you were in his (expletive) way,” Barbe said in setting the record straight.

And, there was the time I sang with Mick Jagger. Well, Mick was standing on the stage and I was standing on my chair — but we were both singing.

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Tammy Malgesini is the community editor. Her column, Inside my Shoes, includes general musings about life. Contact her at tmalgesini@eastoregonian.com or 541-564-4539.

Chairlift rescue results in good-natured ribbing

Skiing instruction didn't include details on how to be rescued from the chair lift.

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By TAMMY MALGESINI

Inside my shoes

Published on January 26, 2016 1:28PM

Watching all the snow falling on the East Coast this past weekend made me long for the ski slopes. While I have only skied once since having a knee replacement in 2005, I still dream about powder days.

I got into skiing while running residential programs for adults with developmental disabilities. Several clients had expressed an interest in Special Olympics skiing, so I became a coach.

I met Buzz Fulton, a longtime ski instructor who died two years ago at the age of 93, at Spout Springs Ski Area. Receiving a 50-year membership pin from the National Professional Ski Instructors of America, he was a wealth of knowledge when it came to skiing.

Over the years, I often ran into Buzz at Spout Springs and Anthony Lakes Mountain Resort — picking his brain on everything from techniques to proper attire. And then it happened. No amount of discussions could have prepared me for the time I had to be rescued from the chairlift.

Not only was I cold, I also was up pretty high. And, I suffer from anxiety-induced bronchospasm. Oh, and did I mention, I would be the first one rescued, so my behavior would set the example for the Special Olympics athletes stuck on chairs behind me.

I understand mechanical failures sometimes happen. However, this sudden malfunction occurred courtesy of Matt DeLong. Matt came up to see how his daughter, Bailey, was doing on the slopes.

A little hesitant to get on the chairlift, Matt, who wasn’t wearing skis, offered to ride with her. Seated in the chair behind them, I was to ski down the trail with Bailey while Matt continued down on the chairlift. In theory, it was a seamless plan.

In theory.

Bailey disembarked perfectly from the chairlift. Gliding on the snow, she swooshed forward and to the side to wait for me.

Matt, however, got caught up in the moment. Failing to follow the lift operator’s instructions regarding lifting his legs, the emergency brake engaged and the lift came to a screeching halt.

When the lift wouldn’t re-start, the lift operators and ski patrol set the rescue plan into action. After kicking off my skis and dropping my poles, I waited for them to shoot a rope up over the cable.

After the rope gun jammed, one of the rescuers finally threw it up. Attached to the rope was what they called a “seat.” In actuality, it resembled the old paddleball toy from my youth, sans the attached rubber ball.

After directing me to place the paddleball seat between the chairlift and my bum, they said to slide off the chairlift. I was getting pretty cold, which probably contributed to my lack of hesitation. (It was nothing for me to stand on the cliffs at Warehouse Beach for 30 minutes or more before taking the plunge).

I sucked on my asthma inhaler and pushed off the chairlift. Dangling in the air, they slowly lowered me to the ground to a waiting snowmobile.

The athletes followed rescue instructions like champs. And, they particularly enjoyed the snowmobile ride back to the lodge for hot chocolate.

I wanted to catch up with Matt and rib him about the whole ordeal. However, he had already taken off.

Sometimes when I run into Matt, I still give him a bad time. But I haven’t seen him for awhile. So do me a favor, if you happen to see Matt, ask him about the time he stranded the Special Olympics ski team on the chairlift at Spout Springs.

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Tammy Malgesini is the community editor. Her column, Inside my Shoes, includes general musings about life. Contact her at tmalgesini@eastoregonian.com or 541-564-4539.

Celebrate, Remember, Fight Back: Relay for Life kicks off 2016

The fight against cancer gets personal.

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By TAMMY MALGESINI

Inside my shoes

Published on January 19, 2016 1:38PM

Cancer sucks.

Most of the time, my column is light-hearted. However, when it comes to cancer I have a tough time. Between 2011-2013, three people important to me were diagnosed with cancer — two of them have since died from the disease.

That’s why Relay for Life has become so personal for me. It’s not a faceless disease. It has taken my friends and afflicted my pops. Actually, I don’t think there are very many people out there that haven’t been touched by cancer in some way.

The premise behind Relay for Life is to Celebrate, Remember, Fight Back — Celebrate those who have beaten cancer, remember those who have lost their lives to the disease and fight back by raising awareness and money for cancer research in pursuit of a cure.

Hermiston Relay for Life is kicking off its 2016 event with a rally Thursday from 6-7:30 p.m. at the Hermiston Church of the Nazarene, 1520 W. Orchard Ave. The event will feature information tables — including how to start a team, fundraising ideas and general information about cancer. Also, food will be available for purchase and there will be a silent auction. There is no fee to register a Relay for Life team. The actual Relay for Life is June 25 at the Umatilla County Fairgrounds.

Lynn O’Halloran, one of my old college roommates was diagnosed with breast cancer in January 2011. She died just over two years later. Lynn was a great friend — a Coke drinker, yet she always had Pepsi on hand when I visited.

She kept her sense of humor throughout her fight with cancer. Back in our college days, I had several friends by the name of Lynn. To keep them straight, my mom called her “long-haired Lynn.” My mom still referred to her with this moniker even after Lynn cut her hair. And, when she lost her hair from chemotherapy, Lynn suggested my mom could call her “no-hair Lynn.”

My pops was diagnosed with prostate cancer in November 2013. He had surgery the following January. While the waiting was the hardest part, the doctor said it was best to reduce the risk of infection after the biopsies. He continues to do well and is turning 78 this weekend.

Diagnosed with lung cancer in May 2012, Judy Hayes participated in the following month’s Hermiston Relay for Life for the first time. I was privileged to be able to walk with my friend during the opening lap.

At one point it looked like she had beat the cancer and some of the herd gathered to celebrate with Dairy Queen ice cream cake. We got a good laugh about the inscription on the cake, “Cancer sucks Judy.”

Judy died Dec. 15, 2015. During this year’s Relay for Life, I will walk in her memory.

For more information about Hermiston Relay for Life, contact Miranda Hunt at 541-720-0369, mlhunt06@gmail.com or visit www.relayforlife.org/hermistonor.

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Tammy Malgesini is the community editor. Her column, Inside my Shoes, includes general musings about life. Contact her at tmalgesini@eastoregonian.com or 541-564-4539.

New year brings ch ch changes

Community Editor Tammy Malgesini pays tributed to the late David Bowie's classic song "Changes" by going through several of her own in the new year.

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By TAMMY MALGESINI

Inside my shoes

Published on January 12, 2016 3:47PM

The new year is in full swing and with that, my life is full of change.

Whether it’s good, bad or indifferent, one thing is for sure ... it’s different.

Finally catching up with the 2010s, I am now the proud owner of a flat screen TV and blu-ray player.

While the TV made its way into my house on Thanksgiving (yeah, yeah, I’m one of those who went shopping while the turkey settled), it didn’t actually make it out of the box until after Christmas.

My husband, John, who successfully conquered my 4 Gift Christmas Challenge list, decided to go beyond the quartet of presents and slapped a bow on the boob tube and called it a gift. I’m not sure how right it is that an item I ventured out in the cold to get turned into my own Christmas gift. Wasn’t it enough that I had to stand in line to see if I was lucky enough to get one of the last remaining 40-inch specials at Wal-Mart?

But it’s all good, the wait resulted in only one evening of frustration rather than two because on Christmas morning, I opened a package to reveal a blu-ray player. We messed with cords, input jacks, remote controls and on-screen instructions to update my daybed room entertainment set-up. Sure, technology is awesome, but gone are the days of merely plugging something in and pressing the on switch.

“How do people like my parents deal with stuff like this?” I exclaimed.

After what seemed like forever, I was finally able to kick back and enjoy the fruits of our labor.

Another recent change in my life has to do with what’s in my cup. I’ve been a Pepsi fan for years. As a senior in college, among the “remember whens” was “Remember when Tammy Stockman didn’t have a Pepsi in her hand?

Disdaining the aftertaste of Diet Pepsi, I finally relented and began drinking Pepsi Next several years ago. With a third of the calories of regular Pepsi, my physician has still suggested I continue on the path leading to calorie-free soda.

Right around Christmas, I noticed a decline in the number of half-racks available on store shelves. Initially I thought maybe others were easing into a change to calorie-free soda as the new year approached.

Unfortunately, my switch in soda had nothing to do with a New Year’s resolution. Due to declining sales, Pepsi quit producing Pepsi Next. I was sent into a panic. I didn’t want to go back to the full-calorie product.

And the cost of Pepsi Next was soaring on Amazon.com. At nearly $90 a half-rack, that’s like paying $7.50 per can or 63 cents per swallow.

After much research and a few taste tests, I am now officially a drinker of Pepsi Max. According to the tag-line, the max stands for maximum taste.

However, I think it also has to do with more than twice the amount of caffeine. If my hands would stop shaking, I cccould read the label and tell you exactly how much additional cccaffeine is in the cccan.

“That’s all you need — more caffeine,” said Renee Struthers, our records editor.

Yup, ch ch changes for the new year. (RIP David Bowie.)

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Tammy Malgesini is the community editor. Her column, Inside my Shoes, includes general musings about life. Contact her at tmalgesini@eastoregonian.com or 541-564-4539.

Column: Move over Weird Al, Tone-Deaf Tammy is here

Community editor has a voice best heard through newsprint, so if she starts singing, stuff some in your ears. Fa la la la la, la la la la.

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By TAMMY MALGESINI

Community Editor

Published on December 22, 2015 2:06PM

I can’t sing. I take the Bible literally where it says, “Make a joyful noise.”

And my co-workers can attest to this fact. I presented a short stand-up comedy routine for our office Christmas party, which included a couple of parody songs. I twisted — twisted is the key — the words to “The Little Drummer Boy” and “Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer” in a way that was truly amusing to “all of the other Heralds.” I’m pretty sure my co-workers were laughing with me, not at me ... .

As I’m typing this I’m hearing the off-key words in my head,

“Write they told me

Pa rum pum pum pum

A new story to file

Pa rum pum pum pum

Our finest words we bring

Pa rum pum pum pum

To lay out the paper

Pa rum pum pum pum

Rum pum pum pum

Rum pum pum pum.”

Maybe, that’s why I like Bob Dylan so much. A brilliant songwriter, but with his raspy baritone voice his rendition of “Hark the Herald Angels Sing” is more like a funeral march than the joyous song it’s meant to be.

Also, it took several times of listening to “O’ Come All Ye Faithful” before I realized Dylan wasn’t singing the opening stanza in English.

Despite my singing handicap, I enjoy music and I like to make up parody songs.

When I ran residential programs for adults with developmental disabilities, I teamed up with Suzy Tosten, one of the group home managers. As The House Mommies, we co-wrote and recorded a Christmas CD for our boss, Candy Lukens. She played it during their family Christmas gathering, which included Jim Stearns, a former Hermiston fire chief.

After hearing the songs, Jim expressed amazement at how well Suzy and I harmonized our off-key voices together.

“They can’t really sing, but they are funny,” he said.

Weird Al Yankovic ain’t got nothing on me — well, except of course, he can carry a tune.

Tammy Malgesini is the community editor. Her column, Inside my Shoes, includes general musings about life. Contact her at tmalgesini@eastoregonian.com or 541-564-4539.

The 12 days of post-op, my true love asked of me ...

It's easy to take for granted a spouse's contributions until they aren't able to help around the house.

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By TAMMY MALGESINI

Inside my Shoes

Published on December 8, 2015 11:27AM

After many years of marriage, sometimes you don’t recognize all the things your spouse does in contributing to the management of the household.

Well, I got a recent reminder as John was laid up after having foot surgery. Overall, he was a good patient, focusing on his recovery and staying down.

However, at times he’d feel bad that he was asking me to do too much and I’d catch him hobbling around. To further complicate matters, we have a split-level house, which isn’t very conducive to someone who is non-weight bearing with a surgically repaired foot.

A couple of times, I swear John’s dog, Lucifer, knew his papa shouldn’t be puttering around and would trot upstairs to get my attention.

I had to start anticipating what things John might do before I got a chance, like the night he told me we were low on toilet paper. I figured I could get some from downstairs in the morning — nope, too late. And then there was the time the garbage was “over-flowing.” From that point forward, I took the garbage out when it was three-quarters full.

One thing that posed a slight problem is that I’m not a morning person and John is. I like to wake up and melt into the morning. As soon as John would hear me stirring, he’d call out for assistance — usually with his morning cup of coffee.

Also, neither of us are big breakfast eaters. However, because John doesn’t do well with pain medication, I became a short-order breakfast cook. This enabled him to take his medication, which was a good thing because I don’t really like cleaning up barf.

Prior to this past month, I can’t remember the last time I made a cup of coffee for John. Also, I did more dishes in November than in the entire year and the multiple trips to Wal-Mart have resulted in Post Traumatic Shopping Disorder.

To summarize the experience, I’ve written this ditty (feel free to sing it to the tune of “The 12 Days of Christmas”):

On the long days of post-op

My husband asked of me:

12 Loads of dishes

11 Leftover foods

10 Check the mailbox

9 Jugs of water

8 Library books

7 Trips to Wal-Mart

6 Scoop the dog poop

5 Take-out meals

4 Bags of ice

3 Pancakes

2 Vicodins

And a big cup of black coffee.

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Tammy Malgesini is the community editor. Her column, Inside my Shoes, includes general musings about life. Contact her at tmalgesini@eastoregonian.com or 541-564-4539.

I’m not Scrooge, four presents are fine

No need to go overboard on the holiday gifts.

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By TAMMY MALGESINI

Inside my Shoes

Published on November 23, 2015 11:47AM

I’ve always loved the holiday season.

However, I don’t know if I’m just jaded, but it seems society has turned Christmas into a big gift grab. Honestly, I’m no Scrooge — ask any of my friends. I love to give.

Of course, like any kid, I enjoyed getting Christmas presents. Although, I admit requesting a big ticket item one year.

As a freshman in college I asked my parents for a car. I really thought they were gonna give me the keys to my mom’s car. A decade old red Toyota Corona, we affectionately called it Little Beep Beep after the Randy Newman song, “Short People.” I figured my mom didn’t need it because my pops drove her around the majority of time.

I wondered how they would present it to me. Would they put a big bow on the car or would they give me a new key chain? Maybe, I thought, they’d make it even more fun by doing a nesting box package with each box opened revealing a slightly smaller box until I got down to the key.

Nope, it was none of those things.

They gave me a wooden car Christmas ornament.

Recently I’ve seen something floating around the Internet called the 4 Gift Christmas Challenge. Some kids might be appalled with only getting four gifts. But if you think about it, that’s one more than the gold, frankincense and myrrh the wise men brought when Jesus was born.

The 4 Gift Christmas Challenge encourages parents to limit gift-giving to four items for their children:

1. Something they want

2. Something they need

3. Something to wear

4. Something to read

Looking back, my parents could have wrapped the 4 Gift Christmas Challenge all into one with handing over the keys to Little Beep Beep. Seriously, I wanted it and needed it — remember I was a college student without wheels. Driving gloves would have covered something to wear. And something to read, well the driver’s manual would sufficiently take care of that.

And, just in case my husband needs some shopping ideas this year:

Want: A Derek Jeter commemorative baseball;

Need: A box of black Pilot G-2 07 gel pens;

Wear: Altra Lone Peak trail shoes;

Read: “Trail of the Coeur d’Alenes Unofficial Guidebook: Rail-Trail & Community Guide” by Estar Holmes (the 2015 version).

Tammy Malgesini is the community editor. Her column, Inside my Shoes, includes general musings about life. Contact her at tmalgesini@eastoregonian.com or 541-564-4539.