Thoughtful Food

Dear Reader,

Today at lunch I enacted my usual dithering routine of what to order before the waiter lost his patience with me. My dining companion simply pointed to another diner's plate and said "one of those". The look and order stance is one that I am incapable of executing on a regular basis.

I pored over the menu and debated the merit of each choice, my feelings and overall disposition towards the world. After momentous effort, I choose the vermicelli rice noodles with beef. Although, the pho looked longingly at me throughout the meal with many come hither glances through its steaming hot visage.

How do you order your meal at a restaurant where you have never dined before? Do you do side by side minute comparisons of ingredients, poll the others as to their choices or just randomly choose one with eyes wide shut?

December Dreams

Dear Reader,

The start of December is upon us like a ravenous wolf waiting to descend and viciously rip his sharpened teeth in the unwary prey. Despite this gristly beginning, I do enjoy December with all the holiday celebrations.

No, my complaint lies with the stores of filled with aisles of holiday trinkets that I would never consider gracing in my home let alone gift to a friend.

Why does the world need more tree skirts with reindeer designs? Does Rudolph need the extra publicity? Does a tree really even need a skirt? No, dear reader, it does not.

How then should we spend the holidays if not in conspicuous consumption? I suggest retreating to the mountains* and enjoying the last of the snow and ice before it all melts. So celebrate the inner snow bunny within and ski, board and sip hot chocolate to your heart's content.

* Expenses for trip are the sole responsibility of the traveler. The writer will not be held accountable for any wacky, zany, fun, or heartwarming etc adventures that may ensue on such a journey.

Peekaboo! I see you.

Dear Reader,

It has been a mere month since my last post but I have not forsaken thee. In the spirit of renewed efforts, this post will concern the activities of disappearing/re-appearing friends in our lives. The ones that suffer for the peekaboo syndrome.Those people that only wander back into our spheres of activities when 1) they need a favor, 2)They realize a major holiday is fast approaching and/or 3) a major catastrophe is about to overwhelm them. They wander out of our lives when they no longer "think" about us too. Please note, that being approached by these individuals may signal one or all of the above conditions.

What to do when these friends enter the stage? Smile and nod. Remember, their presence is hardly a permanent condition and just as soon as the issue/event is resolved through no actions on your part, they will leave.

Then blissful silence and calm may rule the day again.

ps. Needy friends with issues, bring your own b&j's when you come over to share the misery. My last pint does not belong to you.

Food for Thought

Dear Reader,

Happy All Saints Day to you.

That sentiment out of the way, lets move along to the important stuff, like what holiday will be rammed down consumer throats now that Halloween is behind us. Having not stepped into a store yet today, I will venture to guess that Christmas decorations are up and running.

Whatever happened to Thanksgiving? You know, that holiday between Halloween and Christmas. Its a commemoration of the fictional celebration between the Pilgrims and the Native Americans a few hundred years ago. Nope, it isn't represented on store shelves.

The only thing that grocery stores push in November are a few drumsticks which is nothing compared to the deluge of nonsensical items that retailers promote for December festivities.

My suggestion for November is to take some time and eat the turkey. After all, a nap or too won't hurt a bit.

Happy Halloween

Time to load up on the candy tonight and then haul the loot to the office the next morning for distribution. Ahh, the joys of trick-or-treating for the young & adorable and the not cute cuddly.

Hope you gather all the treats you desire tonight!

Mean & Nasty

Dear Reader,

I am addicted to gossip. Is there a 12-step program out there to help me cope with my day without snarky blog comments? I have started to think in terms of sound bites and cruel, clever remarks when I see random fashion victims on the street.

This will be a long arduous process to ween myself off these cultural snits. I beg your patience and tolerance as I slowly recover to be just me without the constant inner commentary on Manolo's and Cartier.

Crisp Fall Days

Dear Reader,
Today felt like the red heart of autumn as I ventured out of my home fully armed with jacket, scarf, hat and gloves. I was the fall warrior prepared for the biting frost and nips of cold. This was a day meant for chicken soup and rice.

Ahh! To be at home bundled under the covers next to a roaring fire served a bowl of homemade chicken soup. I would happily exchange places now to be in front of the crackling fire instead of the ominous glow of the desktop at work.

Do you have a favorite dish that serves comfort for you? Maybe the blue box of kraft mac and cheese tickles your inner child? Perhaps one dish isn't enough and you need a whole meal?

For me, I need a complete meal. First, I would have fresh mozzarella served with tomatoes lovingly sprinkled with olive oil and pepper. Yum! Then, a spinach salad with a strawberry vinegarette served on the side. A lovely potato soup with sausage and greens would be included too. Then onto the mail course of fried chicken with a side or pesto risotto. For dessert, a deliciously moist and soft yellow butter cake with chocolate cream whipped frosting garnished with fresh sliced strawberries.

I end this post drooling but with the firm determination that this should be my meal served at Thanksgiving instead of the turkey that no one ever really savors.

FauxMance

Ah, Fauxmance!

Fame is a tempting elixar that Andy Warhol happily wallowed in its shallow pool.

No matter how absurdly constructed his ideas and works, Warhol refused to stoop to fauxmance. He know with complete and utter assurance that he could love only one person on this planet-- himself.

Reader, it has come time to lobby for the the end of fauxmance. There is simply no excuse for pseudo intimacy with anyone; even to save your reputation,fortune, career or bombing film. People have a modicum degree of savvy and can't be led around on the lease 100% of the time.

So act out your true love only with consenting legal adults of the human species and reject fauxmance-hollywoodstyle or stay home alone.

Dude, Where is My Popcorn?

Dear Reader,

I recently broke down and ordered "gourmet" popcorn earlier this week on Monday. In my confirmation email from the vendor the target delivery date was to have been yesterday.

It did not arrive and I sent a snitty note the customer service noting the missed ETA and requested the status of the order. The indifferent response will not surprise anyone- no apologies but at least the tracking number was included.

Supposedly, UPS is currently in transit to deliver my order. Damn UPS, I bet the obese ugly delivery guy inexplicably wearing his grotesquely tight shorts will waddle to my door three days from now with half of my order missing.

Somewhere someone is eating fancy popcorn and it is not me!

A Grace Period

Dear Reader,

It has been a long day of toil and taxing duties. Ahh, for a little respite. What is sadly lacking in my day has been some grace.
If you could pause the moment right now and add any quality to yourself or the day; what would you acquire? Some joy to survive the rest of the day? Beauty to enlighten the evening or maybe some charm to lift your spirits?

There is street named "Lovejoy". I've always mused that that one of the most perfect combinations. Love is not always joyful nor is joy imbued with love.

Love+Joy is simply the delightful and uplifting pairing of two wonderful intangibles that need more quality time together.

Blog from An Unknown Woman

Dear Reader,

Today is Joan Fontaine's birthday, the woman the made her career playing damsels in distress 'a la Hitchcock. Wikipedia, claims that she and her sister, Olivia DeHavilland, are the only surviving members of the rare breed of Golden Age Hollywood Icons. DeHavilland's legacy will be addressed in a later post, today is Joan's turn.

Never much admired Joan while watching her movies, her strange emphasis on unusual pauses and breathy delivery always undermined her characterizations. However, I hold a soft spot for one movie only in her oeuvre, "Letter From an Unknown Woman".

This is simply one of the most lush, heartbreaking 4-hanky movies released. Directed with European flair and beautiful production values, the experience is almost visceral in viewing. You swoon in the swirling snow, the delicate despair and the quiet yearning that turns the plot effortlessly.

Her lover, who still never knows her name, faces his death at her husband's hand.
He realizes the lost opportunity of life & love with this unknown woman that he might have had if only she ever spoken to him before her demise.

Reader, have you learned the lesson that this movie offers?

That it is far better to maintain your unrequited love than to grimly realize your requited lover will never remember your name or your late night meetings. This memory gap despite the gentle reminders from a letter on your death bed or dueling challenge from your spouse.

I advise keeping the perfect unrequited love (life) unmarred reality and pine quietly.

Mother isn't feeling quite herslf today

Dear Reader,

What should a presidential candidate do when accused of being to old and out of date to run? Like any other red-blooded American, he brings his 95 year old mother on the campaign trail with him.

John McCain campaigned with his mother at a senior center to swing even older voters to his cause. Such a very transparent manipulative ploy on McCain's part. This used to be the man the Republicans feared and Democrats loved despite his party affiliation.In honor of this creepy abuse of mother love and Halloween, I dedicate this post to "Pyscho" and Norman Bates/Mother.

After all, what is boy to do without his Mother's guidance and loving help?

Anthony Perkins' performance of a man consumed by his mother should be a great template for McCain. Personally, I can't wait until there is only one of them in the room taking turns speaking a la Clark Kent/superman.

McCain we hardly knew you and now we learn the all we needed to do was review Norman Bates at work. Hitchcock would be so proud!

Where Have All The Brits Gone?

Dear Reader,

Sad news, Deborah Kerr is dead. You know, the uptight British woman that had deft comic skills and more successful as the snooty upper crust gal that needs a few knocks of reality.

There is only Jean Simmons left of the quintessential English Rose actress type. Where did they all go?

Between 1930-1960's you could barely turn around with another gentle or not so elegant British lass making her debut. Now,not one comes to mind. No actresses from the rest of the commonwealth need apply.

So no rallying support for Kidman, Watts or Blanchett please.

Think the type of actress at ease in the period dramas and modern comedies with that elemental restraint with a dash of stiff upper lip-ness that Americans love to classify as wholly British.

Anyway, another English rose is desperately needed on Broadway now with the revival of Shaw's "Pygmalion" starring (in the loosest of definitions) Claire Danes. According to early reviews, Danes "English" accent is anything but and veers wildly from line to line.

Poor Shaw & the British population, I just hope Danes is ready to pay reparations for the damage she is doing to one of their best theatrical treasures. Oh Deborah, we will miss you. Please re-incarnate soon.

Winning Mr. Smith

Dogs have all the luck in movies. Especially, in comedies.
Take the case of Mr. Smith in the movie "The Awful Truth" starring Irene Dunne and Cary Grant. Nice owners if you have to be owned.

The usual double crossings, misunderstandings and general witty barbs ensue but Mr. Smith might be the real star of the show. Irene and Cary lack children so when the divorce proceeding occurs, it is about who gets Mr. Smith.

Irene wins Mr. Smith over Cary by a dog toy in what has to be one of the most amusing court scenes ever filmed. Of course, Cary must try to get the last word by obtaining visitation rights of Mr. Smith which allows him to continue to spy on Irene. Of course, the the three stars are reunited by the end and Mr. Smith gets the final close-up of the movie.

Not a bad existence for a dog. In one picture he is battled over by Irene & Cary and the next picture he is Asta of the Thin Man movie fame. Yes, life is good for dog in Hollywood.

The Sugar Blessing

A biologist claims to have extended a life of worm by 6 times its normal life expectancy by inhibiting a gene. The bigger bonus on this discovery is that the worm maintained vitality and activeness right up to the crushing end.

The poor worm was at the forefront of my thought. Why would the worm want to live 6 times longer? To make a Frankenstein biologist with a god-complex happy? No, the average life span is sufficient for a worm.

Even more daunting is that sugar is bad for us and causes us to crave more sugar. The sugar is bad for our bodies when we eat refined foods causing breakdown in tissues and cells. How shocking! Like I already didn't know that just one cupcake isn't enough.

Dear reader, do you really desire to outlive Methuselah?

Take the opportunity instead to enjoy the moments you have now and bless each day with the best you can possibly give and receive. Ultimately, it isn't the number of days you squandered with frivolities but the minutes you really lived that encompass your true life experience.

Sustainability

"On October 15th, bloggers around the web will unite to put a single important issue on everyone’s mind - the environment. Every blogger will post about the environment in their own way and relating to their own topic. Our aim is to get everyone talking towards a better future."

When I think about the environment, I think about the shimmering, glowing stars in the firmament above. Why are there no powerful women stars in movies? Not one comes to mind. Oprah does not count despite being a TV legend, her movie bombed. Beloved, anyone? Oprah wins the title for sustainability for TV.

Katherine Hepburn was a testament to sustainability in terms of star power. The most Oscar nominations (12), the most Oscars (4) and an impressive body of film work that has yet to be surpassed.

She played it all. Drama, period pieces, comedies, screw-balls and adventure flicks.By no means a good singer, she conquered Broadway as a singing Coco Chanel and Shakespeare fell under her spell sans songs.

That is a star. If Madonna ever starred in a good movie then she could be considered a living standard of sustainability. Madonna will simply need to settle for the music crown.

Now this is the fun part, name a modern actress that has the sheer personality, depth, range and strength to even meet Hepburn's range or durability.

Sad,huh? Not one woman comes to mind in either the American or world cinemas.

Now other bloggers may call upon you for action in terms of recycling and other saving the world actions. I call upon you, dear reader, to save the movies for all the strong, magnetically powerful women viewers of the world.

A Free Lunch

There was a free lunch hosted by work today. Nothing fancy served. A potato and macaroni salad, improbable looking fruit and an assortment of sandwiches.
It was nice to have lunch provided for me but I kept pondering whether this perk was to my advantage.

If I eat the food provided, then I stay at my desk hence, in theory, work more productive for the company. Secondly, the company is able to write off the cost of the food for tax purposes. Thirdly, the company can claim goodwill and happiness is generated by its actions.

Goodwill is rarely inspired by by pasty salads and questionable sandwiches.

Now, if the company really wanted to inspire goodwill from me, it would provide vouchers to local restaurants and allow employees order meals when at the office for long durations or to reward performances. Then choice is king, hard work is rewarded based on merit and I wouldn't have eaten a soggy and strangely gray looking sandwich for lunch.

Depend on the Kindness of Strangers

I had an affirmative moment today about humans.

Today, the skies opened and the torrents of rain fell from the sky. I was soaked in less than a one block walk. Just picture a long haired cat simply drenched by water- pathetic and waterlogged.

Laughter came bubbling out of me. It was either that or cry at my current condition. Then I saw a hand with an umbrella shoved towards me.
I blinked thinking the man was offering me some shelter for a short period. His head shook and he was handing his umbrella to take. I protested that he would need the use of the umbrella as well.

No, I lost that argument and became the new owner of black umbrella.

The mystery hero didn't exchange names, digits nor requested anything from me.

It simply proves that when you are being beaten by the downpour of raindrops, life provides a sheltering umbrella.

If you believe, clap your hands

Peter Pan believes in fairies and saves Tinkerbell's life.

Dear reader, do you believe in anything?

Do you have to see or touch something before you believe? Maybe your physical senses reign supreme. Or are reason and logic your only guides? Must everything be proven in an ever so "scientific" manner or tossed out with all the other unexplainable rubbish?

Make today a little special, take the leap of faith and believe in something you can't explain or feel. Maybe, just love someone or something with greater passion.

After all, love might be the best real-life fairytale to enjoy.

Blue Steel

What is hotter than Ben Stiller as a dumb male model? For those in the know, only "Magnum" and Owen Wilson could makes things even sweatier on film.

The favorite cult scene occurs when Derek Zoolander faces his arch rival, Owen Wilson, in a model-off. The ultimate host of this sacred event? Only the hottest androgynous man in the world, David Bowie.

Sadly Blue Steel does not win the day but Magnum comes to Derek's rescue in the end when he is the assassin and face of Derelict line.

The moral of this modern fairytale? Relax.

You've Got Mail

Dear Reader,

This is not a post about the lackluster Meg Ryan/Tom Hanks film from 1998. No, this post is about how you having been asking for more posts, more content and just about more of everything.

We are pleased to announce that we are up and blogging again.

Gone Fishin'

Taking a small break from the world of blogging. Be back soon.

Padre Pio

"For those who believe, no explanation is necessary. For those who do not believe, no explanation is possible."
Life of immense suffering and pain marked the life of the famed Padre Pio.

The stigmata along with the ability to bilocate were daunting signs to those that see with only their eyes. Padre Pio foretold of a young Pope John Paul II's ascendancy to the papal throne. Were his miracles the work of a madmen able to seduce the poor and ignorant? Was he truly blessed by the hand of God to inspire others with his faith?

He was either one of the great modern religious frauds of the 20th century or a humble man rising to the Lord's call to serve.

Graham Greene once described his experience ( see excerpt from article):
After hearing the saint Padre Pio say Mass, Greene was "profoundly moved" and he lost "the sense of time." Afterwards, through a messenger, Padre Pio invited Greene, who was visiting the monastery with his mistress, to come and meet him. But Greene's reaction was "I didn't want to change my life by meeting a saint."

The real question is what constitutes a miracle for you? Is it the end, the means or both? What would you want to change(or not) in your life?

PS. You, dear reader, are the true miracle and can enact change at anytime, anyplace and any when.

Pumpkin

Long, long ago when female high school guidance counselors were mandated to wear long flowing printed calico skirts, large tortoise shell eyeglasses and sensible sandals they called all the female students "pumpkin".

The horrors inflicted by guidance counselors are many. I bet many can recall the faint air of depression, fake can do attitude with a few coats of desperation upon the first meeting. Woe to the student that actually follows the advice of above described "counselor". Unsurprisingly, she was never married nor involved in a relationship other than being a provider of "hope and (mis)information" for students.

She came equipped with flyers and pamphlets which never pertained to the matter on hand and at least two years out of date. Her office door was always open and the desk was baited with a large jar of generic multi- year aged jelly beans to entice those without selective taste buds.

"Counselor" positively crooned with glee the one time she knew all students would need to darken her door: the start of Junior year in which to advise them about the SAT and what colleges to attend. She would happily espouse the reasons to attend the state college, study hard and attend all the classes regularly.

The male students were mercifully released in a short time period but the girls aka pumpkins were subjected to an extra 15 minutes deluge of her personal ,private sufferings and why it was so very important for females to work doubly hard to be accepted and recognized for efforts.

Many a bewildered student fled her office only to be reassured later the Counselor was merely projecting her frustrations at the lack of life accomplishments achieved.

Oh, how much happier she would have been if only she hooked up with the gym teacher or even anyone to distract her from haunting the student body.

Night of the Hunter

A surreal parable of good and evil as directed by the famed actor, Charles Laughton.

Your average moviewatcher is already be familiar with the tale of Love & Hate so memorably recited by Robert Mitchum, the hunter:

"Ah, little lad, you're staring at my fingers. Would you like me to tell you the little story of right-hand/left-hand? The story of good and evil? H-A-T-E! It was with this left hand that old brother Cain struck the blow that laid his brother low.
L-O-V-E! You see these fingers, dear hearts? These fingers has veins that run straight to the soul of man. The right hand, friends, the hand of love. Now watch, and I'll show you the story of life. Those fingers, dear hearts, is always a-warring and a-tugging, one against the other. Now watch 'em! Old brother left hand, left hand he's a fighting, and it looks like love's a goner. But wait a minute! Hot dog, love's a winning! Yessirree! It's love that's won, and old left hand hate is down for the count!"

The cinematography is beautifully crated in B/W with deceptively simple mythical storybook quality. The light is at times diffused and twinkling with brilliance when the fleeing children find refuge with righteous, truly god fearing Lillian Gish.

Strong performances by Gish, Shelley Winters ( she makes the loveliest mermaid) and even the semi-annoying moppet children make this movie a true classic of the dangers of the night and of strangers.

Robert Mitchum, in his best characterization, is the false preacher chasing a hidden fortune and children through the dark. He is menacing, calculating and utterly terrifying in his pathological determination for wealth.

This is movie not to be watched alone. It is chilling reminder of the horrors are not always dark nor ugly but common and attractive.

Squirrels to the Nuts!

Not one modern directer has the wit, sophistication or visual style that made Lubitsch master of comedies in and out of the bedroom. A silk negligee, a little leg and beefcake made his movies dance with charming amorous delights.

"Heaven Can Wait" is a typical frothy concoction directed by Lubitsch. A handsome American rouge, Don Ameche, falls in love with a good woman,Gene Tierney. The playboy slightly reforms and almost loses her but wins her heart again. He knocks at the Devil's gate because he has lived an amoral life and is willing to pay the full price. However, love is strong enough and Ameche earns a small spot near the pearly gates.

A pleasant diversion which in no way makes a BIG statement nor rubs a moral into the viewers face. Simple, fun and almost wholesome in a delightfully subversive way when the Ameche steals his cousin's betrothed and delivers his pleas about infidelities with weasel like sharpness. The performances by Ameche & Tierney are like milk chocolate bon bons to be slowly savored and appreciated.

Warren Beatty, an untalented womanizing hack recycled"Here Comes Mr. Jordan" and entitles his tripe "Heaven Can Wait"; a discretion to the Lubitsch legacy. Womanizing while an unattractive habit is forgivable, a remarkable dearth of talent is not. Pity the movie audiences of the 1960's & 1970's when he was considered superstar material.

For those that prefer European cads, no one tops Charles Boyer. He is France's best export since cheese. Lubitsch relies on Boyer's brooding lover image and pairs it with a naively sensible plumbing tomboy , Cluny Brown personified by Jennifer Jones.


Jennifer genuinely glows as she learns from Boyer that life is about Squirrels to the Nuts. It really can't be explained, go watch the movie.


That elusive magic and love that Lubitsch had for movie is apparent in every single frame. His films aren't hodgepodge scenes cut together to seem edgy and real but pearls strung together with the greatest care and skill.

The Queen of Technicolor

Monday is devoted to an ode for one of the most beautiful women in the world : Maureen O'Hara.

Maureen crowned the queen for Technicolor for her classic Irish beauty which only served to spotlight her red hair, fair skin and luminescent eyes. She is the reason why I so desperately desired red hair as a child to be magically transformed to a wild Irish colleen just like MaryKate Danaher and spar with the Quiet Man, John Wayne.

Her list of successful movies are enviable:

The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1939)--- Esmeralda, the ultimate wild but pure gypsy
How Green Was My Valley (1941) --- Poignant, sad history of Wales & coal mining
Miracle on 34th Street (1947) --- Learning common sense and fairy tales all
have special places in and outside the heart
Sitting Pretty (1948) --- The ultimate babysitter rescues Maureen
The Quiet Man (1952) --- Mythic Irish fairy tale, John Ford style
The Parent Trap (1961) --- For every child of divorce that ever plotted
McLintock! (1963 --- A rollicking mud bath for the whole town

"The Black Swan" and "The Spanish Main" are two personal favorites of mine. In these, Maureen was the fiery damsel in distress that managed to be more than your typical cardboard heroine. Of course, she would eventually take up the sword herself and prove herself as a formidable swashbuckling star following in the best tradition of Douglas Fairbanks Sr.

She was discovered and mentored by Charles Laughton ,of Henry the VII fame, in Ireland and brought to Hollywood to play Esmeralda to his classic Hunchback. Many roles followed along with admiration more for her beauty than her acting.

She was aptly captured and gracefully photographed by John Ford finally revealing a breathing person behind the well coiffured facade. Her Angharad broke more than one viewer's heart when she was sold to the highest bidder in her loveless marriage.

The roles and the years continue. Her innate strength steels her to survive Hollywood and the lowering of the spotlight. She once happily retired and became the first woman president of a chartered airline. An indomitable spirit is the phrase that only begins to describe her life.

Long live Maureen O'Hara!

Terrible, Horrible, No Good , Very Bad Day

How do I do it? Why are all sharp edges of furniture magically attracted to me? Yet again, another semi-disabling accident has occurred in the office. Managed to rip a large hole in one of my favorite suit pants and in me. Haven't fallen out of my chair this week so far yet. My fingers are still crossed on that wish. Thankfully, a well stocked first aid kit may keep me from developing gangrene this time.

Today has all the makings of a "Terrible, Horrible, No Good , Very Bad Day " for me. In honor of such a awful mindset, this is a grumbling posting about irking matters:

1. Interviews with an incredibly shy people for a SALES job. Why is a person afraid of opening the mouth interviewing for a sales position? Is there a complete lack of understanding that selling products/services are done by speaking to customers?

2. An actress that will not be named--- her very name inspires shudders to all true film connoisseurs. She was in a movie about one the world's most beloved authors, Jane Austen, and tries mightily to tarnish her legacy with her sad inept efforts. Thankfully, that movie sank out of theaters quickly. Public opinion can be intelligent on some occasions.

3. Public Services Announcements. Just because someone is on a TV show or in moderately popular movie does not mean I need to hear them espouse morals and advice they themselves would never follow.

4. Any pseudo actress with the first name of Jessica. Alba, Biel, Simpson, Lange and you catch my drift. I think all the actors' guilds should burn and decline any application from any woman that wants her first name known as Jessica. It would save the world from many a bad tasteless movie.

5. AFI lists for the top 100 films. I hate them. First, AFI honors more films made in the last 20 years that should be shot quickly into obscurity. Secondly, the shocking lack of the older masters of foreign and older Hollywood cinema. What I really despise, anything made by Steven Spielberg. A more pompous, self-congratulating director I doubt you will find. He reminds me of a modern Frank Capra without heart.

Tonight will be devoted to repairing me and my slacks with liberal scoops of B&J. For the rest you, rant on!

The Big Sleep

Raymond Chandler's dark look at the seedy Los Angeles of the 1930's and 1940's is a loving ode to a place he once called home while writing and adapting screenplays. LA was and is rife with corruption, money and lust-- a trio of favorites for any writer.

Rich imagery with creative metaphors were part of Chandlers's hard boiled style. Luckily, the genre of Film Noir was at its height when Hollywood came calling. "Farewell, My Lovely" translated to "Murder, My Sweet". Possibly, the best detective/Noir filmed.

Then came Bogey and Bacall in "The Big Sleep" in which they debate the ability to ride in the saddle. It never mattered that the plot was disjointed and only a few of the murders were solved. Their chemistry was far more important than a mere story.

Of the modern living writers, only James Ellroy has more love for Los Angeles than Chandler. Ellroy's best novels "The Black Dahlia" & "LA Confidential" are both set in LA during the 1940's.


LA evoked a gritty glamour filled with world weary bleached blond femme fatales, richly contented fat cats with everything to lose and a hard at heels hero with nothing to gain. Perhaps, we mourn for the loss of the heady days of Hollywood where stars did walk on Sunset Boulevard and the halo was only a little crooked for benign mischief rather than the rampant conspicuous greed seen today.

The Lady Eve

Preston Sturges's "The Lady Eve" might be the most breathless, cynical, satirical,slapstick filled romantic comedy of classic Hollywood pairing the ultimate con artist and her innocent rube.

The complicated plot of masked identities, revenge and romance can be best summed by the character of Jean "aka" Eve, expertly played by Barbara Stanwyck, to Hopsie early in the movie:

"You see, Hopsie, you don't know very much about girls. The best ones aren't as good as you probably think they are, and the bad ones aren't as bad. Not nearly as bad."

In her own wounded, smart and malicious manner, Eve sets out to prove her statement to a very befuddled and unworldly "Hopsie" played by Henry Fonda. Fonda's career was made by playing upright, forthright and innocent characters from Tom Joad to Abe Lincoln.

By the time, Hopsie proposes to Eve for the second time, he uses the same trite speech again and she is able to anticipate him and trumps him with great flair:

Charles:I think that if there's one time in your life to be careful, to weigh every pro and con, that this is the time.
Eve: Oh yes, you, you can't be too careful.
Charles: That's right. Now, you might think that having known you such a short time...(The horse nuzzles against his head)
Eve: I-I feel I've known you always.
Charles: That's the way I feel about you. (The restless horse behind them whinnies and butts between them with its nose.) I don't just see you here in front of the sunset. But you seem to go way back. I see you here but at the same time, further away and still further away, and way, way back in a, a long place like a...(The horse nuzzles against him again.)
Eve: Like a forest glade.
Charles: That's right. How did you guess?
Eve: Because, that's where I see you always. We held hands, way, way back.
Charles: Why, that's remarkable. That's like telepathy.
Eve: I can read many of your thoughts. (The camera angle abruptly shifts, taking their perspective from behind as they look at the sunset.)
Charles: Then, I need hardly tell you of the doubts I've had before I brought myself to speak like this. (He pushes the horse away one more time.) You see Eve, you're so beautiful, you're so fine, you're so...I don't deserve you. (The camera returns to the original, head-on shot.)
Eve: Oh but you do, Charles. If anybody ever deserved me, you do. So richly.
Charles: Eve!
Eve: Charles!

Yes, Hopsie so richly deserves Eve.In the best of Hollywood traditions, the lovers reunite with a sly wink to modern sensibilities:

Jean: You really haven't the right to drag me off like this, Hopsie...Why didn't you take me in your arms that day...Why did you let me go? Why did we have to go through all this nonsense? Don't you know you're the only man I ever loved? Don't you know I couldn't look at another man if I wanted to? And don't you know I waited all my life for you, you big mug.
Charles: Will you forgive me?
Jean: For what? Oh you mean, on the boat. The question is, can you forgive me?
Charles (naively): What for?
Jean: Oh, you still don't understand.
Charles: I don't want to understand. I don't want to know. Whatever it is, keep it to yourself. All I know is I adore you. I'll never leave you again. We'll work it out somehow. There's just one thing. I feel it's only fair to tell you. It would never have happened except she looked so exactly like you. And I have no right to be in your cabin.
Jean: Why?
Charles: Because I'm married.
Jean (softly): But so am I, darling. So am I.

James Harvey offers an excellent recounting and criticism of this movie noting Stanywyck's inherent sadness in her characterization of Eve which makes a direct connection to the audience. No false pretenses, make-up or fashionable Edith Head wardrobe masked her ability to access the audience completely in an honest, open manner. She is rough,delicate and maintains a subtle understanding that this is all merely pretend but, damnit,it better be good is the foundation of any Stanwyck performance.

Bond Street

Dear Reader

Scandal is hardly a modern invention of the celebrities known for only being infamous. The roots of perverse behaviors are long entrenched in our myths, laws and customs which serve to excite and warn the general population of the thin line between normal and abnormal.

Benjamin Feldman, author of "Butchery on Bond Street", writes of murder, perhaps much deserved, of Harvey Burdell in 1857. Harvey was a dentist residing in Greenwich Village in New York. He had taken in a widow, Emma Cunningham and her five children. This was not a charitable act but a means to a self-serving licentious end. Mistresses were an accepted and common accessory for wealthy men.

According to Feldman, Harvey routinely raped her (Emma), impregnating her two times, and twice performing an abortion on her with his hands. Ever the gentleman, he refused to marry Emma nor make any apologies. Why should he? He was a man whose needs must be met and a schedule full of patients to attend.


Emma, not a wilting wallflower, tried to arrange a false wedding and pregnancy to bring Harvey's behaviors in line with her needs for respectability. This sad situation ends with Emma stabbing Harvey 15 times to his death. The ensuing trial and publicity caused the typical fervor and unrest in the newspapers and pundits. However, Emma was acquitted of the crime and moved to California.


Is this a tale of a woman pushed to far by abusive, sadistic actions and a society that looked the other way? Or a cautionary tale for men to be more selective in choosing a mistress?

The heart of darkness lurks within us all.

Brigadoon

To wake each new morning in a different century. To never be able to cross the boundaries to leave your home or cause complete destruction.

Brigadoon, the Lerner & Lowe musical,doesn't address the psychological issues but skirts the issues since only 2 days have passed since the start of the restrictions. Two Americans wander to the mythical Brigadoon and one meets and falls in love with Fiona.

Gene Kelly, an incredible athletic dancer with epically proportioned inspirations, teamed with Cyd Charisse. His dancing was bold, muscular and almost plebeian yet his grace was the elegance that the common man makes extraordinary in the most ordinary of moves.

Cyd is a lovely ballet dancer in her own right but lacks singing talent and indefinable star quality that makes a compelling screen presence. Her best characterization came in Kelly's "Singing in the Rain" Gotta Dance sequence as the gangster's moll. Lovely, lyric and long legged she neither spoke, sang (typically dubbed) nor distracted from her dancing prowess.

Dismiss the painted backdrops but fixate on the odd garishly bright colors and the overly long dance sequences. The hallmarks of MGM excesses in its last stages. What truly resonates today is the fairytale love story of two lovers brought together by the hand of fate.

Have you ever truly yearned for another so different from your way of life? What would you sacrifice to be with this someone? Would you change your world? Leave everything behind that you know and expect all for the love of one person? Accept things you've never dreamed before as truth and make those new ideas your own?

So dear reader, would you remain in an enchanted land for the love of your life hand in hand to gather heather on the hill?

"The mist of May is in the gloamin', and all the clouds are holdin' still.
So take my hand and let's go roamin' through the heather on the hill.
The mornin' dew is blinkin' yonder. There's lazy music in the rill,
And all I want to do is wander through the heather on the hill.
There may be other days as rich and rare.
There may be other springs as full and fair.
But they won't be the same--they'll come and go,
For this I know:
That when the mist is in the gloamin', and all the clouds are holdin' still,
If you're not there I won't go roamin' through the heather on the hill"

A Wild & Crazy Guy

Steve Martin old? A Kennedy Center Medal for Lifetime Contribution to the Arts? No, not for this Wild and Crazy guy... I refuse to believe the news. This is the man whose nude bango picture ensued giggles and merriment of utter delight. His hyper frenetic energy enlivened many an early episode of SNL.

No, Steve Martin will never be old. Sure he is renowned author, playwright and actor but this is the man that made tuna fish sandwiches immortal cologne. There are many imitators but only one Steve to extol the virtues of King Tut.

We don't want our cultural heroes to age. They should remain a crystalline form in whatever (in)famous exploit rendering them perfect and untouched. Thus shielding those icons from the rigors of time, stress and other personal blunders. James Dean and Jean Harlow escaped the grime of continued existence and remained forever beautiful without further experiences to mar the packaged allure.

***
A personal plea:

Steve, I understand we all age but promise me that while we must grow old that you will never grow up. Now that would be true heartbreak from which I would never recover.

Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away

Listened to "Arise, My Love" last night which was the OTR dramatization of the 1940 Billy Wilder/Mitchell Leisen movie that starred Claudette Colbert and Ray Milland.

The title of this movie is a reference to a passage in Song of Solomon:

Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away; for now the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth; the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land. The fig tree puts forth its figs, and the vines are in blossom; they give forth fragrance. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
Song of Solomon 2:10-13.

An ironic title since the movie is mostly about the impending war in Europe and the rallying of American sentiments before the bombings of Pearl Harbor. Of course, comedy and romance do play a large portion in the movie yet patriotism and sacrifice are at the heart of the story.

Lovely,comic,classy but still accessible in the working middle class girl's sensibilities; Claudette Colbert was very soul of American determination and French boudoir eyes. Her character's (August Nash) decisions on her career, romance and politics are as valid today as they were in 1940. Does either condition take precedent or could they possibly in the best way work together for something richer and more meaningful in life? Well, we never know since the movie ends but Hollywood and early Billy Wilder movies would have us believe in the power of happy endings.



Tall, dark and handsome with a British accent, Ray Milland was a Welsh actor known for playing cads and rogues in light-hearted comedies. Ray branched into heavier,darker roles as he aged and even earned an Oscar in 1945 for "The Lost Weekend". However, he is incredibly charming with paired with an equal sparring partner that matched him line for line and hiss for kiss.

Brief Encounter

Dear Reader,

I have been questioned as to the title of this blog. Where have I been exiled from and where am I now? These are important questions which will be answered in due time. Your patience is appreciated and will be rewarded later.

However, this is meant to be and will remain an anonymous blog. Many personal details will be changed, enhanced or even ignored to protect the innocent and guilty.

My suggestion is that you simply enjoy the random musings, diatribes and quirky posts published.