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In the mid-1950s, the legal age to consume alcohol in New York City was 16. I had turned 16 August 5th, 1953, thus when 1953 was about to become 1954, I was invited by a fellow 16-year-old high school classmate to join him in Times Square during those transitional years to enjoy the revelry and legally imbibe thereafter. His name was, and still is, Charlie Brill, who would later become a very successful comedian, along with his wife, whose stage name was Mitzi McCall, but nee Mitzi Steiner. Mitzi was an actress in my first stage play at The Pittsburgh Playhouse  (STRANGE BEDFELLOWS) in 1948. I had no idea she'd become Mrs. Charlie Brill years later, nor that I would know him at a different time in my life, before he and she met. We all still keep in touch occasionally

Regardless, Charlie was hilarious, even during our high school days. The only times I visited his hometown of Brooklyn was to swim with him and some other friends in the cavernous St. George Hotel pool in that famed borough, In those days, the swimming was free. Charlie was a free spirit, and was a good influence in regard to "chilling out" about most everything that might be a challenge.

Now to our consecutive Times Square New Year's Eve visits, circa 1953/54 and 1954/55: Charlie and I met at Al-Jo's, a non-crowded coffee shop on West 46th Street at 11 o'clock that night, 12/31/53, in plenty of time to get into the thick of the Times Square crowd between Broadway and Seventh Avenue, flanked by 44th and 45th Streets. (These days, a Marriott Hotel is on the Broadway side of the street. In those days, The Astor Hotel, Astor Theater and Victoria Theater...both the theaters first-run movie houses...were in that territory. The brightness of the lights and gigantic Artkrafft-Strauss spectactular signs ("spectaculars" are what the sign industry named them, and they were) truly eclipsed the brightness of Times Square today.

Charlie and I made our way through the mob to stand in the exact center of the crowd. There were no police barricades then, as there are these days on New Year's Eve there, thus the entire Square was filled with people and not cordoned off in any way. As the time drew nigh to midnight, and the then white-lights-only ball eventually dropping, the crush of people against people was, and is, truly indescribable. It was actually scary, because if anyone wanted or needed to fall over, it would have been, and was, impossible. I actually began to not be able to breathe very easily and was glad when the ball dropped and the crowd began to thin, albeit very slowly.

Prior to the ball dropping to transition 1953 into 1954, I'll never forget Charlie's hilarious words, yelling at the top of his lungs in the midst of the screaming crowd: "Everybody stop havin' fun!". Only a few people in near proximity to Charlie and me heard him, but laughed appreciatively. Execpt for yelling. "Everybody stop havin' fun!", again, our second visit to "The crossroads of the world", the 1954 into 1955 visit was almolst exactly the same. In my opinion, they were two experiences that truly should probably have happened only ONCE, but we "wild and crazy" kids decided to get crushed for a second time.

Afterglow: Because the drinking age limit was 16 (in NYC only, not New York state) I also decided to hit every possible bar on 8th Avenue, then Broadway,  between 44th and 100th streets (the latter street where my mom and I lived, between Broadway and West End Avenue) from just after midnight, when Charlie and I went our separate ways, to about 5 a.m. I repeated that 1953-54 ritual the following year, i.e., 1954-55. I wouldn't recommend that to anyone. I didn't know one could die from alcohol poisoning, thus after those two binges, I almost never drank again, in excess or otherwise, except for one silly time at a bar called The Tugboat in Steamboat Springs, Colorado, circa 1980-something, and not on a New Year's Eve.

Happy New Year, and thanks for taking the time to read some more of my geezer memories. I hope 2013 is the best ever for you, and all of us.

I just read about the passing of Senator Daniel Inouye of Hawaii today. He was 88. I'm honored to say I had his acquaintance several times throughout my life.

The first was when I began doing the weather on WJLA-TV in Washington, D.C. in late 1974. Some of the Senators I had known in the past, including our giant HHH, Howard Cannon from Nevada and Henry M. "Scoop" Jackson from the State of Washington had all taken some promotional welcome photos with me for the station (the composite is among the most treasured photos on my walls here at the house). One day, I got a call from Senator Inouye's office stating he wished I'd give the temperature in Honolulu every night, since I covered the entire U.S. on each weathercast. (Almost everyone in D.C. is from somewhere else, thus my focus on the entire nation.) I told the person who called I'd be more than happy to give that temperature, but I told that person I thought it would be fun if Senator Inouye would agree to be on the set with me and express mock-displeasure about my omission of Honolulu's temperature. The next day I received a call from his office stating he'd be at the station a day or two later. We set the time and newscast (it was the 7 p.m., EST 'cast). I met him before our on-air tete-a-tete, we exchanged pleasantries, and then did the "bit". Here's how it went: As was the case here on Channel 5, I walked from one weatherboard to the next, but in between the boards would either be a whimsical sign I'd created, or a celebrity who might have something to say to me while walking from board-to-board.  When I got to the spot where Senator Inouye was standing he said (rehearsed): "Mr. ZeVan. I enjoy your weather reports, but why don't you give the temperature in Honolulu? Please do so from now on!". Then I walked past him, looked into the camera and simply said, "Boy, when these Senators want information, they don't mess around!". I then got to the next board and thanked Senator Inouye for coming on the show and having some fun, but I also DID give Honolulu's temperature on every weathercast after that.

In subsequent years, I saw him once or twice "on the Hill", then interviewed him in 2000 for a 10-hour documentary series about the 20th century for which I was consulting co-producer. My "job" was to line up as many guests as possible for interviews, and then interview them. (Sidebar: It was called THE REMARKABLE 20TH CENTURY, executive produced by an L.A. production colleague named Scott Popjes, and aired on various PBS stations in 2001, and beyond. The host, who I also secured, was the now late Howard K. Smith. Howard had been a colleague during my D.C. television years, and his daugther, Catherine ((Cate)), wasa producer at our station.) A couple weeks after the interview, Senator Inouye kindly signed the photo we had taken after the interview, with an accompanying message. It hangs on the wall leading to our basement. A photo taken by a WJLA-TV photographer of Senator Inouye smiling at me as I walked past him on the set when he was admonishing me to give the Honolulu temperature, also hangs on a wall downstairs. One rarely saw the Senator smile, so this was a "special" candid photo.

My interview with Senator Inouye lasted a half-hour. For the documentary, much of that time was cut, but he did tell me about where he was December 7th, 1941. He told me he immediately enlisted in the Army. He also told me on V-J Day he and some buddies were actually sitting outside a church in Honolulu when the Japanese surrender was announced. He said the church bells tolled and it was the happiest day of his life, since aside from being a great American, he was also of Japanese descent, as most everyone is aware. He lost an arm during WWII, but never his courage. He also told me he was chosen to be one of the Watergate trials Senators "by accident". He told  me he never anticipated those trials would catapult him into the international spotlight, but was happy for the outcome of the trials.

On the trivial side, we also discussed the fact I had worked in Honolulu for six months at KGMB-TV and Radio as a writer-producer, in1965, but had never been back to the Islands since. He asked why. I told him I got "rock fever" and couldn't stand being surrounded by all that water, 24/7, living in Kailua and working in Honolulu. Eventually I got back to the Islands two years ago, for the first time since 1965, and it was delightful, but only because I didn't have to stay permanently. Nothing against Hawaii, but I need to drive more than the 26 miles around Oahu one faced while there.

It was said in tonight's obituary, Senator Inouye's final word was "Aloha". "Aloha" to Senator Inouye, a giant in every respect. 

Innocent children and adults murdered. The Newtown, Connecticut, tragedy reflected, as President Obama stated yesterday, and as any sane person knows, this sort of violence has been happening all too often in this country. When I was even a   pre-schooler, in the late 1930s, my late mother used to talk about man's inhumanity to man. She said it existed from the time Cain slew Abel. I always wanted to believe those sorts of people were the exception, rather than the rule. Indeed, they still are, but their deranged acts obviously impact each of us. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know that without "bad", we might not know what "good" is. 

The bad acts sadly serve to illustrate there are some in the world whose minds wander into mental minefields into which most of us would never meander, or even wish to. Does that make the "good" people "perfect"? Hardly, in my opinion. Any "good" person who doesn't have thoughts of wishing ill or retribution to bullies, tormenters or those who deserve to not get away with ego-or-power-driven-acts against other people, probably doesn't exist, except for a very few who have taken vows to not think in that manner. 

Regarding those who take those sorts of vows, in my late teens, between TV and off-Broadway acting jobs, I was also a "chartist" for A.C. Nielsen's New York office. One of those with whom I worked there was named Donald Nielsen, no relation to A.C.  Donald was from Brooklyn, but the antithesis of what anyone would consider a Brooklyn stereotype. Donald had a presence about him that suggested his mind was far from Brooklyn or even Manhattan, where our offices were (The Nelson Tower, 42nd Street and Fifth Avenue, just north of the iconic New York Public Library). One day Donald announced he was quitting his charting job to become a Trappist Monk in the hills of Kentucky. He told us his work would be to grow vegetables on the farm at the Abbey, as well as taking a vow of silence. His primary mission would be to pray for the world, and especially people whose deranged minds were bent on destroying others. People like Donald, in  my opinion, are more than special, especially when they unselfishly devote their lives to "good".

In this country, in recent memory, from Columbine, to Virginia Tech to Aurora to yesterday at Newtown, we're reminded, much too often, that almost no place is "safe" these days. Following 9/11, we "knew" who the people were who would wish to harm us with extreme violence, from that day forward. I think those sorts still exist and will never go away, but the recent tragedies and senseless killings have been "home grown", as the saying goes, spawned by delusions-turned-real acts of fantasy-driven power, greed and ego, three of the most powerful, potentially damaging and damnable words in our lexicon.

Ours is a primarily live-and-let-live nation, but even as far back as the early 1970s, a British citizen one proclaimed to one of my close friends, "The United States is the most violent country on Earth". When my friend told me what Michael had said, it was the first time I'd ever heard anyone state something like that, and I brushed it aside as just another comment from a disgruntled Brit , even though I'm an Anglophile at heart.

What can be done to reduce the ranks of those who commit horrific acts against innocent people, especially very young children, as was the case yesterday? I think it all begins from the time we learn how to speak and comprehend the language, then nurtured at home. When we're taught "good" values and thinking by our parents, grandparents or guardians from "day one", it at least buffers any desire to go to extremes to prove a point, or satisfy an ego or hidden hatred. I'm not naieve enough to think our country will ever become "Father Knows Best" or "Leave It To Beaver" scripts personnified, but I do feel, from home nurturing to school teachings to everyday interaction, more consicientious efforts to educate and instill positives rather than negatives in the minds of our youth would be a good start. I'm proud my two daughters, four grandchildren and six great-grandchildren, after surmounting more than one challenge in their lives, have emerged as more exemplary than not, and in my opinion, stemming from the fact they were taught  from the "get-go" the basics of right versus wrong. It's truly not that difficult, but it also doesn't put wings and a halo on MY head! We're all just human, but the extremists among us take that reality to levels that need not exist. One of my late mother's favorite sayings was, "Let your conscience be your guide". Amen to that.

Thanks for reading. Please also, if you wish, join me for A SENIOR MOMENT at www.startribune.com/video, then to the Lifestyles link. The subject changes each Monday.

FIRST, TO SEA SHARK, WHO COMMENTED ABOUT MY MOST RECENT BLOG (REFERENCING TOM CAPRA AND STEPHEN BOGART): THANK you for your great reminiscence about your Santa Monica conversation with Lauren Bacall. An outstanding and memorable occurrence, especially since she kept looking directly at you during the entire conversation. Regarding whether or not she and Humphrey Bogart named their son Stephen after Bogie's character, Steve, in his and Ms. Bacall's first film together, I defnitely don't know, but it would certainly make sense. Thanks, again, for the story and comments.

Now, airports. I've been blessed to fly to a lot of destinations domestically and internationally since my first flight just before Christamas, 1954, from Elmira, New York to Newark, New Jersey. It was in a DC3, in a snowstrom, and hardly "glamorous". Since then, because of simply personal and other work-related travel, I've been blessed to get to "know" a lot of airports. If YOU'RE an airport aficianado, perhaps you'll identify with some of my observations and "ratings", just for the heck of it.

A FEW OF "THE BEST" (in my opinion):

MINNEAPOLIS-ST. PAUL: I don't know how any air traveler could complain about ANYTHING at our airport. Outstanding shops, eateries, convenience of transport to longer-distance gates and for those with some difficulty walking needing to use convenience carts driven by courteous drivers to get to a particular gate, we're at the top of the mountain. That also now includes our "screeners" (also at many other airports, globally) and the mega-ease of getting through security, thanks also to the new scanning technology that doesn't require pat-downs. If MSP isn't  the best anywhere, I don't know which airport WOULD be.

KANSAS CITY, MO: Whoever designed THAT airport was THINKING, especially about ease of getting from a plane to the taxi or car pickup lanes. From getting off the plane to baggage claim to "curbside" takes less than two or three minutes, walking slowly. GREAT pedestrian flow-pattern and design.

PARIS, FRANCE (CHARLES DeGAULLE AIRPORT, ROISSY): It's somewhat similar to Kansas City, i.e., regarding ease of getting from plane to baggage to curbside. From de-planing, the entry to a moving walkway to get one to baggage claim, then the street, is less than 30-feet from any gate. From baggage to curbside, just another 100 feet, maximum. As is the case with MOST overseas airports, at least in Europe and Asia, the self-service carts upon which to place a multitude of baggage, are FREE.

SINGAPORE: It's not so much the ease of getting from plane to curbside, but rather the beauty and cleanliness of that airport. The spectacular carpeting and first-class gentle ambience are soothing to the senses, making even the most frenetic traveler "calm down". It's a 20 to 25 minute drive from the airport's remote location to "downtown" Singapore, truly one of the world's great city-states. (No chewing gum allowed to enter, or be in, Singapore.)

LONDON, ENGLAND (Gatwick): Again, somebody was THINKING. Either boarding or de-planing, especially the latter,  the distance from point "A" to point "B" is exceptionally easy to take. Also easy to take is the superb British rail system, whisking Gatwick passengers into Victoria Station after only a less than three minute walk from baggage to train platform. The Brits had the world's first subway (The London Underground, as they call it), and truly corner the market, in my opinion, about how travelers should experience the least possible angst when traveling.

A FEW OF "THE WORST" (in my opinion):

NEW YORK CITY (LaGUARDIA): While the city fathers in office at the time were clever enough to build LaGuardia's runways atop tons of mostly non-pollutant garbage emptied into Long Island Sound (true), I think it's embarrasing to have a city the size of New York have an airport the size of a postage stamp, and even with recent cosmetic upgrades to its terminal, still not care about traveler comfort enough to even have moving walkways. The city is this country's biggest, of course, and where I lived most of my teenage years, actually riding my bicycle around Flushing Meadow Park, near LaGuardia, watching the planes land. THOSE were GOOD memories. Experiencing LaGuardia's terminal, even recently, the memories are NOT so good (although they've definitely upgraded their eateries). The place still makes me claustrophobic. Biggest city, smallest major city airport/terminal. Go figure.

CHICAGO (O'HARE): Biggest complaint for yours truly, and maybe you: NO moving walkways from gates to curbside. There ARE moving walkways in the cavernous underground tunnels from the terminals to parking spaces, but the initial user-unfriendly walks on very hard surfaces (throughout), especially if one de-planes or boards at something like gate E-498 (being facetious here, of course) are exhausting.

ATLANTA (Hartsfield): The nation's and (said to be) the world's busiest airport, it's, to me, somewhat like Seattle-Tacoma (SEATAC) and Denver's DIA, wherein one really needs to pack a lunch to get on the trams and walk and walk and walk. To me, the intent was correct, the reality again not as "user-friendly" as it could be.

AMSTERDAM (Schipol): I've had to fly into Amsterdam at least 20 times in my life, and only once to stay overnight in that city. The remainder of the times have been to change planes. Progressively, the Schipol experience has become much, much better, with more and better traveler conveniences (my favorite Chinese noodle soup is served at one of the Schipol eateries), but the perpetual compaint, at least for yours truly, is the distance between gates, especially when changing planes, with very few courtesy-car (golf cart-like) drivers to be found. Walking from gate to gate at Schipol (even with their moving walkways) should be included in any weight-loss regimen!

Thanks for taking the time to read these occasional rants. Please also join me at www.startribune.com/videos for my SENIOR MOMENT webcasts, the subjects for which changes every Monday.

A Christmas film classic of which I never tire seeing is Frank Capra's “IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE”. Perhaps you have the same feelings.

I met the film's primary star, Jimmy Stewart, while filming Art Linkletter and his family learning how to ski at Sun Valley, Idaho, in 1963. During the filming, Stewart and his wife showed up on a very wet porch of the Sun Valley Lodge (where we were filming) to say hello to Art and his family, and complained about the equally miserable weather they'd just experienced in Aspen, hoping to find better conditions at "The Valley". Regardless, it was fun to meet him briefly, get his autograph and continue filming the Linkletters for a segment that would air on Art's CBS-TV HOUSE PARTY show later that season. Sorry for the digression, but it was a fun memory involving the IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE" star (who was born in Indiana, Pennsylvania. Pennsylvania is also the home state of both Paul Douglas and yours truly, Paul from Lancaster, yours truly from Pittsburgh.)(The film of my interview with the Linkletters can be seen on the Internet via TCMediaNow, embedded in a reel called SOME SIDES OF BARRY ZeVAN, and kindly placed there by TCMediaNow's Tom Oszman, and filmed before we filmed the Linketters skiing lessons begin, under the wing of instructor Sigi Engl, a legend in the ski industry. Art makes good-natured fun of me as the weatherman when he asks for better weather. I said "We'll try". He responded, as you'll see, if you watch, with "That's the weatherman for you. We'll try.", followed by a grin.) (In those days, and even today, small market stations needed people to be jacks of all trades, thus in addition to the five years of weathercasting in Idaho Falls ((1960-65)), I was also a talk show host, producer, booth announcer and control room director. They saved a lot of money, but it was a great "boot camp" for being able to field almost anything in broadcasting and television in later years.)

Back to "IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE"(FINALLY! SORRY!): In 1982-83, both Paul Douglas and I worked with (and one might say for, since he was one of our Producers) one of Frank Capra's sons, i.e., Tom Capra, at the Satellite News Channels (ABC-TV's answer to CNN) on Shippan Point, just east of Stamford, Connecticut. I had previously met Tom Capra during my Washington, D.C., weathercasting days with the ABC-TV affiliate there, WJLA-TV, Channel 7, before Paul and I worked together with him. When I met Tom in D.C. the first time, Tom had just joined ABC-TV as a news producer.We met a couple times during that period (1974-77), and he was always a cordial and class-act, certainly mirroring his famous father's reputation. A few years later,in 1982-83, after I'd moved to Detroit (in 1978) to do the weathercasts there on weekdays, I was also hired to do weekend weathercasts on the aforementioned Satellite News Channels, flying back and forth from Detroit to New York every weekend (for three months), then taking the train from New York to Stamford and the SNC studios. Paul Douglas was doing the weathercasts there long before I arrived, but that's how he and I first met and I've enjoyed the honor and pleasure of his friendship ever since.

Tom Capra was indeed one of Paul's and my Producers, along with another fellow whose last name might also be familiar to you: He was Stephen Bogart, the son of Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall. I think because of their famous family histories, both were almost always somewhat shy when engaging in any conversations with us at SNC, but definitely not stand-offish. I’ve heard both are now out of the TV news business, with Tom now living in Palm Desert, California.

Again, and always, it was fun to see “IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE” this past Saturday night on NBC-TV, fondly remembering one of Frank Capra's two sons was one of Paul Douglas and my bosses (at the same time ) almost 30 years ago. Thanks for allowing me to share some fond memories, once again. I've been very blessed, to say the least.

If you feel so inclined, please also take a look at my SENIOR MOMENT webcasts at www.startribune.com/video. Thanks, again, for taking the time to read these "geezer" reminiscenses.