Sox fans will miss you Nancy, and so will MLB.

My visit to White Sox Park tomorrow is going to be bittersweet. Not because of the team – they actually did better than I expected this year. It’s because of the organist. This is Nancy Faust’s last year at the pipe organ, and tomorrow’s game has been named Faust Fest in honor of her 41 years entertaining fans at White Sox games.
My relationship with Nancy Faust started on another bittersweet day –- the day my eye surgeon told Mike and me that none of the surgeries they tried had worked, From my memoir, Long Time, No See:

The White Sox were in town that day. Going to a ballgame after learning I’d be blind for the rest of my life was probably a strange thing to do, but it beat heading home and sitting on our pitiful second-hand couch and wondering where to turn next.

The White Sox were having a rotten year. There were maybe 8,000 people in the stands. Floyd Banister pitched, the Sox lost. But it was strangely pleasant, sitting next to Mike with my head up, not giving a thought to eyes or surgery. We each had a bratwurst and a beer. Between bites and gulps and giving me play by play, Mike bantered with other fans, cursing the underachievers on the team. I laughed at the tunes selected by Nancy Faust, the Sox organist-she’s famous for picking songs that play on player’s names. Mike marveled at the endurance of Carlton Fisk, and we both wondered out loud why every time we went to a game, that bum Banister was pitching.

I stopped by Nancy Faust’s booth at White Sox Park after Long Time, No See was published to sign a copy for her. She is absolutely lovely. I was tickled to have an opportunity to thank her personally for helping me track what’s happening on the field. When Nancy Faust is at the organ and a player walks, you hear Johnny Cash’s “I Walk the Line.” If there’s a pickoff throw, she plays Michael Jackson’s “Somebody’s Watching me.” And when the pickoff is successful? The Kinks “You Really Got me.”

Nancy helps me know who’s batting by teasing the player’s name with a tune. Mike’s all-time favorite is the one for Gary Disarcina. No, it wasn’t “Gary, Indiana” from the Music Man. That is wayyyy too obvious. It was “Have you Seen Her?” by the Chi-Lites.

As for me, I think Nancy’s at her best whenever Travis Hafner’s in town. At the last Cleveland Indians game I went to, she played “Bunny Hop” for his first at bat, and then J. Geils “Centerfold” “his next time up. And you Yankee fans who read this blog will never understand our sorrow when Jason Giambi ended up in the National League. Nancy Faust used to play the theme from “Pee-Wee’s Playhouse” any time he came to bat. And no, it wasn’t about steroids. Again, wayyy to obvious. Duh. The reason she played Pee Wee’s Playhouse theme song for Giambi? A character on the show is named “Jambi.” Natch!

Some of Nancy’s choices are a lot more obvious –- Dave Brubeck’s “Take Five” for players with that number, the theme from “Magnificent Seven” for players sporting number seven on their backs. Michael Jackson’sBobby Day’s “Rockin’ Robin” bounced from the pipes back when Robin Ventura played third base for us, And we heard a lot of “Jingle Bells” and the disco hit “Ring My Bell” when Albert Bell was on the team. If he struck out? “We’re so sorry, Uncle Albert.”

My upper lip has remained stiff through all the other changes the White Sox have put me through -– new park, new managers, new announcers, new players. That lip is certain to weaken tomorrow during Faust Fest. The one thing that will pull me through without breaking down completely: the White Sox are giving free Nancy Faust bobble-hands dolls to the first 10,000 fans attending tomorrow’s game. Trust me, I’ll be there early.

A few years ago I wrote a newspaper story about two Chicago women who’d won a trip to the Academy Awards. They bought new outfits at a studio on N. Elston that names dresses after old movie stars.

One of the women would be wearing the Grace. Glancing down at her own figure, she laughed and said, “Maybe when I wear it, it’s a Liz!

That quote was taken out. “Readers who recognize your byline know you’re blind,” the editor told me. “A blind person couldn’t have known that woman was glancing down.”

I had been standing right next to the woman when she said it. I’d heard her voice go down, then up. I’d felt her movement. I knew she’d glanced at herself.

That's Trina Sotira, who led the session with me.

The editor stood her ground. The accuracy of the story might be questioned. The quote had to go.

I used this anecdote, along with many others, during a presentation Tuesday night called Writing the Unseen. The session was the brainchild of young adult novelist Trina Sotira. Trina is working on her PhD in literature, and it was oh so good to have her up there presenting with me — her writing exercises gave the session some cred. Here from an email sent by a participant:

A great big thank you to Beth Finke and Trina Sotira for their great workshop on writing with the senses! It was amazing to learn from Beth the various struggles she encounters being a blind writer and yet tap into her writing in new ways by using senses other than sight.

I’ve been using my other senses for so long that I guess I forget how “amazing” my stories sound sometimes. Another example I shared Tuesday night was a profile I wrote about the highest ranking female brigadier general. I was relieved to hear a photo would appear with the story. No need to describe in words what the general looks like.

Wrong. The story needed visuals, the editor told me. Its part of good journalism.

I could have just asked the editor what the photo looked like and written that into the story. But that didn’t seem, well, like good journalism. So I picked up the phone and called the general. Her secretary answered. I told her my predicament and asked if she could tell me what her boss looked like.

She thought about this a long while. Finally she said, “All of us around her, even though we know she’s only five foot one, think she’s seven feet.”

It was a great quote. I used it in the story. My editor was happy. She gave me another assignment: Interview Miss America. But then she withdrew her offer, asking how a blind woman could write about a beauty queen.

This made me all the more determined. I showed up for the interview with my Seeing Eye dog and asked Miss America the all-important question. “What do you look like? If this question had come from any other reporter, it might have thrown her off. But Miss America had poise. Plus, she’d looked in the mirror once or twice in her lifetime.

Erika Harold is bi-racial, and pretty comfortable describing herself. “I have caramel-colored skin, long brown hair, and very expressive brown eyes,” she told me. “I think it’s very hard for people to tell exactly what I am.”

That quote went right in the story. I may not be able to see, but I’m still able to ask questions. Sometimes having a disability can make a person pretty resourceful. Asking colleagues to describe the person I’m interviewing — or asking the person to describe themselves to me — makes for good quotes. Which, in turn, can make for good journalism.

Some friends invited us to a Stanley Cup party last Sunday. We always have fun with Dana and Art, but I was reluctant to go.

That's Dennis on the left. He was there the whole game except for the times he stood, inches from the screen, yelling at Chris Pronger. Thanks to Dennis, even I could enjoy the game. (Thanks to Bryn Benson for the photo.)

Without being able to see, hockey can be a tough sport to follow. What would poor, poor Beth do at the party while everyone’s eyes were glued to the 60-inch TV screen? I do love a party, so decided I’d figure it out. Maybe rather than try to follow the progress of the game, I should choose one player, follow his progress instead. Which Blackhawk to follow? That, my dear, was a no brainer. Who else but Nick Boynton.

What?! You’ve never heard of Nick Boynton? Well, he was a plus-two on Sunday night, and Philadelphia’s star Chris Pronger was an unheard-of minus five. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Three months ago, when the Blackhawks called Boynton up, he was playing with the Rockford Ice Hawks. The NHL web site says that before Boynton joined the Blackhawks, he had “five assists and 22 penalty minutes in 15 AHL tilts with Rockford and the Manitoba Moose.” Not sure what all that AHL tilt gobbledygook means. The most important fact there is this: my man Boynton played for the Manitoba Moose. How. Cool. Is. That?

And if playing for the Manitoba Moose isn’t enough to make you love Nick Boynton, there’s this, from the Chicago Tribune:

One day when Boynton, a 19-year-old first-round draft pick of the Bruins, was working at his family’s farm in Canada, he couldn’t get out of bed.

A misdiagnosis and 35 pounds of weight loss later, doctors in Boston correctly identified that Boynton’s pancreas basically had stopped producing insulin.

You read that right. Nick Boynton has Type 1 diabetes. Just like me. The Tribune story said that after finally diagnosing him correctly, doctors told Boynton to sit out a year. The mighty moose refused. He wanted to play hockey.

One of the other guests at Dana and Art’s party Sunday was a Canadian-born hockey fan named Dennis. Dennis teaches third grade by day and still plays amateur hockey at night. He sat inches from the big-screen, totally focused on the game. I asked him to alert me anytime #24 was on the ice, and Dennis didn’t disappoint.

Throughout the entire game, the cheers and groans from Dennis gave me a clue of what was happening on the ice. “Woooooooo! Ugh. Ahh. C’mon lads! Woooooooo! Argh. Damn. Wooooooo!” By the second period, I had diagnosed my new Canadian friend with Hockey Tourrette’s.

The best part of the game, duh, was any time the Blackhawks scored. With every Blackhawk goal (and there were a lot of goals scored on Sunday) Dennis would run to my seat, say a polite excuse me, and then crush me in a hug.

I love hockey. Go Dennis! Go Boynton! Go Hawks!

Some people dismiss national conventions as silly schmoozefests, but I gotta say: I’ve met some pretty darned cool people at the ones I’ve gone to. Guess it never hurts to show up with a cute dog at my side, huh?

Signing books at the ASPCA booth during the American Library Association convention.

Two years later, we’re off to New Jersey! Turns out Stephanie’s mom works at a school in Fairview, too, so the triumvirate arranged it so Hanni and I will have not just one, not two but three different gigs while we’re there: one at Stephanie’s library, one at her aunt’s school, and one at her mom’s school. Sweet!

After those presentations were booked, ahem, I contacted Mendham Books in Mendham, NJ. I’d met the store owners on a bus ride between our hotel and Book Expo America in New York back in 2007. They remembered Hanni and me, and said they’d love to have us.

And so, thanks to two very fun conventions, a New Jersey book tour is born. Hanni and I fly to Newark this Saturday, and librarian Stephanie Burke has generously offered to pick us up at the airport and drive us to our hotel. She’ll chauffeur us to the bookstore event Sunday, then cart us around to our library and school visits on Monday and Tuesday. She’s even offered to take Hanni for walks. Pick up after her, too. Now that’s a true friend!

The school visits are only for staff, students and parents, but the library visit and the bookstore appearance are open to all. Mendham is very close to Morristown, NJ, so we’re hoping to meet up with some old friends from the Seeing Eye School at the bookstore appearance Sunday.

May 23 (Sunday), 1 p.m.
Mendham Books
84 East Main Street
Mendham, NJ 07945
973.543.4949
bseller@mendhambooks.com
www.mendhambooks.com

And we’re looking forward to meeting a lot of new friends at the library appearance on Monday:

May 24 (Monday), 4:30 p.m.
North Arlington Library
210 Ridge Road
North Arlington, NJ 07031
201.955.5640

I’ll be signing books in print and in Braille at both events, and of course Hanni’s paw print will be rubberstamped into every book purchased as well. If you know anyone in New Jersey, please let them know about these two events. And if you live in New Jersey…come!

A whole slew of generous hotels across the United States are participating in this very cool Give a Day, Get a Night program — if you give eight hours of community service to a registered 501(c)3 non-profit organization, you can stay overnight at a participating hotel — for free! Sounds too good to be true, but I tried it. And it’s for real!

To qualify, your volunteer hours have to be completed between July 1, 2009 and March 29, 2010. You call a participating hotel, tell them when you want your complimentary room, and then all you have to do is show up at check-in with a letter on non-profit letterhead verifying your eight hours of unpaid volunteer service, and…you’re in!

That's Hanni and me luxuriating in our lovely Blackstone room.

Hanni and I volunteer for a literacy program called Sit! Stay! Read!, and the volunteer coordinator was happy to provide me with the letterhead note I needed. Hotels in San Diego, Portland, Denver, Las Vegas, Tucson and countless other cities participate in the program, but I decided to stay right close to home. I booked a room at the Blackstone, a 99-year-old four-star hotel on Michigan Avenue that was recently renovated. Here’s a description from a magazine called “Hotels:

The extensive nature of the renovation shows in many of the details, including the richly detailed brass wall sconces that McHugh refinished in many public areas. When originals could not be salvaged, the team worked with specialty contractors to cast molds to create duplicates. In other historic portions of the hotel, McHugh removed decades-old carpeting to find that the marble floors underneath had been damaged by carpet tacks. Fortunately, the team was able to repair the floors by salvaging the hard-to-match marble from other areas of the hotel where it would not be visible.

While large-scale reconstruction of a century-old building is bound to turn up unexpected issues, the most significant one was positive, said Brian Hardy, McHugh’s project manager for the Blackstone work. “The biggest surprise of the building was that it is unbelievably well built,” Hardy said. “It’s extremely sound, structurally.”

I can vouch for that soundness — I somehow managed to bang my forehead on one of those structurally-sound surfaces in our room. Ouch! Not to worry – the room service folks deliver ice to each room every night, you know, when they bring your bedtime chocolates!

I wondered how I’d be received–staying free, and all–but the Blackstone staff knew exactly what the Give a Day, Get a Night program was all about, and they seemed tickled that someone was taking them up on the offer. Hanni and I were treated like gold; so many of the staff helped us out in oh so many ways. One of them, named Arturo, was especially kind. He escorted Hanni and me all the way to the nearby Starbucks to pick up our morning coffee, stayed with us as we ordered, held my coffee cup as we got back into the hotel elevator and accompanied us all the way to the sixth floor.

Arturo marveled when Hanni led us off the elevator and guided us right to room #610. We had fun discussing how Seeing Eye dogs are trained, when it’s okay to pet them and when it’s not, stuff like that. Before he left I fished in my wallet for a tip, but Arturo refused the money. “This was my pleasure,” he insisted.

But the pleasure was all mine. A big thank-you to the Blackstone and to Sage Hotels for sponsoring this generous program. And an especially huge thank-you goes out to Sit! Stay! Read! for giving Hanni and me the privilege of volunteering.