Our Fair Lady

Memoirs of Eliza -- Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
I'm listening to Julie Andrews' autobiography "Home". She's had a remarkable adult life as an Oscar-winning screen actress and singer. She's played a gamut of roles from Eliza Doolittle to Mary Poppins to Queen Clarisse in the Princess Bride movies. At 73, she is now the Grande Dame of Anglo-American Theater (and was in fact named a Dame by Queen Elizabeth II in 1999).

Her childhood was dysfunctional to say the least. Her parents divorced when she was about 7; she spent most of her remaining childhood travelling with her vaudevillian parents. Her Mother Barbara was a pianist and the step-dad sang. Both were alcoholics in need of the program. Julie was fortunate to have a close-by Aunt Joan, and a highly devoted noncustodial father who would step in to care for her when the Mother and step-dad "flaked out" as they frequently did. Julie's Mother dropped a bombshell on her in her early teens -- telling her that her "real" father was in fact a one-night-stand she'd met at a party. Julie continued to embrace and strongly admire Ted Wells, her "societal" father as her real dad.

Her Mother and step-dad sobered up enough to notice her incredible singing range when she was about 9, and sent her to voice coaches and trainers. By age 14, Julie was supporting the family with singing engagements and appearing in small English productions including pantomime shows. Her audiences included the Royal Family by this point, although the good reviews didn't necessarily translate into money. The Andrews struggled to pay bills, and Julie was very oddly parent to her own parents -- ironing shirts, scrambling eggs and sorting out disputes between family members.

When she was pegged for The Boyfriend on Broadway, the naive 18 year old Julie was unaware of how special that was. When Lerner and Loewe interviewed her for My Fair Lady, she had no idea how legendary they were. She almost took a much smaller role in another production until the casting director of that production heard the news. He magnanimously said, "Play Eliza for God's sake! It's the role of a lifetime!" And indeed it was. My Fair Lady brought together some of the finest entertainment talents, anywhere, ever, in one place: Moss Hart, Rex Harrison, Stanley Holloway and many others. A shy 20-year-old Miss Andrews had to deal with the towering egos of those around her. Rex Harrison thought she was way too young. Cecil Beaton, the costume designer, thought she was too unphotogenic and unsophisticated (and would tell her snipily, to her face). Even Moss Hart would dress her down fiercely if she flubbed any lines. Nevertheless, she persevered and got to be friends with Harrison and Hart.

Julie says that she felt at times like Eliza Doolittle -- a country girl undergoing a major metamorphosis into a Bavarian princess. Listening to the book, I realize that she was very much Eliza. She had a suit-up, show-up survivor mentality that is incredible and rare. In taking care of her two younger brothers and reprimanding her lushy parents, she was very much in the role of Mary Poppins. On top of all that, she is and was extremely knowledgeable about opera, singing and music in general. She can give a history of any song -- who sang it, how it was played and in what setting. Dame Andrews remains grounded, kind and approachable where such stellar success would go to anyone else's head. I still have a few chapters remaining in her book but much is already obvious. Julie Andrews is a Dame and a gem -- a rare find in any lifetime.

© 2008 blogSpotter

Camelot II?

A couple from Hollywood casting -- Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
Barack and Michelle Obama are the new "it" couple. They're attractive and they've been likened to John and Jackie Kennedy in their "Camelot" phase. We are tantalized by the possibility of this handsome couple hosting state dinners and greeting dignitaries. The packaging couldn't be smoother if it came from Madison Avenue. They have the looks and style of Denzel Washington and Halle Barry. They have catchy new age slogans about "change" and "unity".

If the Obamas were served to us as first couple, would we still be as love-struck? What kind of presidency would it be? Some of this allure smacks of a high school popularity contest where voters take their cues from things that are way more superficial than substantive. For high school student council, not much more is at stake than new band uniforms or ecology day to pick up trash. For the Presidency of the United States, I myself have a strong preference for gravitas over glamour.

The past serves as a predictor for the future. Obama has possibly the most liberal voting record in the Senate. He has past associations with some sketchy people -- a Weatherman radical, a "liberation" minister and a crooked housing contractor. Who would Obama select for his cabinet, for Secretaries of Treasury and State? Who would be his Supreme Court nominees? The court is aging and he may get to pick two or three. Both Obama and his wife have said things that smack of victimhood and impotent passivity -- "At last I'm glad to be an American.... the rules keep getting changed on us ...” In general, people are certainly entitled to their points of view. But for President wouldn't you prefer someone with more positivity? What policy implications are there for that frame of mind?

I can't help but think we'd have ourselves a passel of problems. George W. Bush created a huge mess, and we need a serious, centered and knowledgeable person to pick up all the pieces. We don't need a new incarnation of Bush to create newer messes. There is the possibility that another inexperienced boob (and Bush is certainly one example) could actually compound and confound what's already wrong. In closing I can only say, "Be careful what you ask for". You might be getting it this November.

© 2008 blogSpotter

Death Ride of Bonnie and Clyde

Texas folk heroes -- Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter

You've read the story of Jesse James--
Of how he lived and died;
If you're still in need
Of something to read
Here's the story of Bonnie and Clyde

from "The Story of Bonnie and Clyde" by Bonnie Parker, 1934

I watched the 1967 movie, Bonnie and Clyde last night on Apple TV. I hadn't seen the movie in its entirety since the 1970's -- had forgotten many elements. The movie was controversial at the time it was released; reviewers felt that it glorified violence and celebrated the criminals. It was linked to the mood-shifting, anti-authoritarian style of French new wave films in the late sixties. It was also part of its own "American" new wave, featuring more nudity and graphic violence than previously seen in movies. Also new were the actors; no less than four actors in the movie were relative new-comers whose careers were made by Bonnie and Clyde: Estelle Parsons, Gene Hackman, Gene Wilder and Faye Dunaway. (Beatty and Pollard were already established names).

The criminal couple portrayed, Clyde Barrow and Bonnie Parker, hailed from West Dallas. In fact, much of the movie was filmed in places like Red Oak, South Lake, Midlothian and Denton. Dallas has been known as "the city that shot John Kennedy" since 1963 -- I guess our link to history-making violence is preordained. Our only other association in the public's mind is the TV show Dallas which does little to dispel a trigger happy image.

When they met, Barrow was a 23 year old ex-convict whose prior crimes were relatively petty (car theft, stealing turkeys). Bonnie was a 21 year old cafe waitress. Over their two year reign of Texas terror (1932-1934) they killed approximately 9 law officers. Insiders have said that Bonnie never actually fired a gun, but that she helped with logistics and getaways. The movie melded some of the characters together (into C.J. Moss) and simplified much of the goings-on -- pretty much a necessity for a 2 hour movie.

They were ambushed in Louisiana and controversy surrounds that also. The duo was never given an opportunity to surrender or "come out with your hands up". Also, Bonnie Parker was never even served any kind of warrant. Parker's family would not let her be buried "side by side" with Clyde as the more recent ballad would imply. The couple actually became folk heroes to Depression-era poor people and it's estimated that 20,000 people attended Bonnie's funeral (actually preventing the immediate family from access). It's not just the 60's film producers that saw a legendary saga in the yards of yellow police tape and chalk outlines.

The Bonnie and Clyde "death car" has been a favorite of county fairs throughout the South since 1934; funny that there are several such cars in different year models and colors. The fact that this handsome couple forsook all safety and future well-being for a shoot-em-up thrill ride still intrigues people today. If you get a chance, pick up a copy of the 1967 movie. If you happen upon the "real, genuine death car" at a county fair, take that with a grain of salt. If you are a citizen of Dallas or a nearby area, ponder why the city is so indelibly associated with so much violence and brutality.

© 2008 blogSpotter

Pretty Savvy in Pink

Hill meets another Bill -- Picture courtesy of Fox

by blogSpotter
I actually watched Bill O'Reilly's No-Spin Zone last night. For the first time, it wasn't because my treadmill at 24 Hour Fitness was positioned under a TV airing the show. No, I actually watched it at home. Now Mr. O'Reilly has been cited by others as one of the vocal minority who gives conservatives a bad name (eg, Anne Coulter and Rush Limbaugh). For whatever reason, I've never been entranced by him in any way. His main distinguishing trait is that he's a little bit "scrappier" with some of his liberal guests than other hosts might be. He's otherwise known for a sexual harassment suit of a few years back.

My reason for watching was, of course, to see m'lady Hillary as the guest. It's probably no coincidence that she decided to come on No-Spin Zone just as Obama's campaign is getting torpedo strikes from Obama's ex-pastor Jeremiah Wright. According to some insiders, Wright was hurt when Obama removed him from the 2007 campaign announcement ceremony. Insult was added to injury when Obama disavowed some of Wright's words and politely distanced himself back in March. It was only a matter of time until Wright could no longer bear these wrongs and let the world know that Obama was only speaking "as a politician". Truer words were never said.

O'Reilly immediately asked Hillary about the Wright controversy, and she used it as an ample opportunity to express her disapproval of Wright's ideas, as well as to express relief for Obama that he finally resolved that issue. This interview was part 1 of 4, and fairly short. Other topics discussed were the Bush tax cuts and fuel prices. They basically "agreed to disagree" on about every topic without any trace of vitriol or raised voices. Overall, the interview was very civil -- even at some points convivial. O'Reilly and Clinton are close in age and have both been cultural lightening rods. It almost looked like a very odd form of friendship or connection at work. Imagine a conservative liking a liberal or vice versa! Of course, there is lefty policy wonk James Carville married to right-wing wonkette Mary Matalin. And actually -- quite a few other examples besides that. Not to imply that this is a budding romance or anything... people can just be friends! :-)

Hillary wore a bright pink ensemble which varies somewhat from her usual navy pinstripes and gray tweeds. This may have been to boost her image with the FOX News audience. It looked pretty good and maybe she should also run it by the folks at CNN and MSNBC. Following the interview were FOX talking heads (Dennis Miller, Dick Morris) giving their spins on the spin. Miller thought O'Reilly was too nice, that he used kid gloves. Morris cynically suggested that Hillary knows she's lost -- she's just beating up on Obama so she can run again in 2012. BS to both. O'Reilly respectfully disagreed with Hillary on just about everything. And Hillary wouldn't waste that much time, energy and money on someone else's demise.

So, let's tune in for the follow-up interviews. Will the gloves come off? Will Hill become friends with a new Bill? We'll have to see on Fox News.

© 2008 blogSpotter

Oink!

Chug-a-lug -- Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
What is it about the American size-fixation? The size of the average American home is now 2349 square feet, roughly twice the size it was in the 1950's. Make the ceiling height 10' rather than 8' -- you've dramatically increased the amount of air being heated and cooled by your average house-buying American. If Mr. Americano needs to drive somewhere, no problem. The 10 mpg Chevy Tahoe will get him there in cushioned, air conditioned comfort.

George Will wrote a column recently, where he mentioned that our idea of luxury has been redefined by modern marketing, financing and production technologies. Essentially, everybody has luxury now -- flat screen TV, granite countertop, central A/C. You can't even buy a low end Kia Rio that doesn't have A/C and carpet -- those used to be extra frills. Your new $450/month apartment -- it may comparatively modest but it will still feature 10' ceilings, wood burning fireplace and garden tub in the bathroom. Now, if a $35K/year school teacher can have those things it behooves a $135K executive to do something to set himself apart. He must do something that says, "I've made it. I'm successful. And I'm more successful than you are". That means he needs to burn money somewhere ostentatiously. How about an outdoor kitchen by the pool -- with nicer appliances than what most people have in their indoor kitchens? How about a home theater? Maybe a gift wrap room?

There's a problem with a society that defines success this way. It runs into a couple of logical impasses, the first and most obvious is the straining of resources. When a couple of people engage in this materialism it's no big deal; when a whole nation does it, it becomes a big deal. We basically have doubled our fuel consumption for a collective, egotistical "Hey look at me!” How much is real need, and how much is hubris? I didn't feel deprived in a 1600 square foot house growing up. Our Chevy Impala didn't seem downscale at the time. The second logical impasse is more abstract. If we use materialism as the sole (could as easily say soul) measure of who we are, is there any good way to express what's uniquely good about ourselves? Are you only as good as what you own?

If the George Will scenario continues, everyone will soon have a satellite dish and birch cabinets. We lose the distinctions and even ourselves in the whole ugly process.

This will seem like a non-sequitur but bear with... When Jane Fonda ended her marriage to Ted Turner, she noted that she still loved him but they were growing differently. He kept bringing new cars, boats, people and parties into their lives. He wanted breadth and she wanted depth. She (at a relatively late age, early-60's) was exploring her spiritual feelings and wanting to grow inwardly. Kudos to Jane -- we should all want to strive for an added dimension. And for America at large, we could stand to have a new dimension too -- one that isn't purchased with Visa or Master Card. You can't take material goods with you when you die, but I can't help but think -- all that is your essence goes right along with you.

© 2008 blogSpotter

Tomorrow Started?

Has it happened before? -- Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter

I’m sitting in the North Park Starbucks on a Friday day off. Am amazed at the number of working age people (no students, no retirees) who are here. How do you join that elite group outside of being self-employed or unemployed? Earlier, an entire middle school class was herded into the AMC Theaters for some kind of Earth Day movie. My teachers never took me to a fun shopping mall for a field trip. I got to see an electricity plant and a computer parts factory – they suffer in the comparison to North Park which offers Abercrombie and Mrs. Fields Cookies.

None of this has to do with today’s title, “Tomorrow Started” -- a 1980’s new wave song title by the group Talk Talk that has always intrigued me. The album featuring that song, It’s My Life, has cover art that shows puzzle pieces with various animals falling out of the sky. What to make of all that? Maybe it does nothing other than provoke the thoughts of an over-caffeinated blog writer. 

Has tomorrow already started? Or does time flow relentlessly from past to future? There are some interesting aspects to the question. Some physicists claim that if you were incredibly small and could enter a black hole, you could go back in time. At 200 earth pounds, I’m too big for this earth scale much less that scale. According to Einsteinian physics, space and time are on some kind of continuum – perhaps manageable by some technological genius. 

A favorite argument against time travel is that we’d be seeing visitors from the future gallivanting around earth as tourists visiting the early 21st century. While here, you think they might also impart the cure to cancer, or an effective design for a nuclear –powered automobile. But nay, we only see our humdrum present with its humdrum possibilities. There is one loose thread here … the visitor might satisfy the above-mentioned criterion – small enough to enter a black hole. Thus it’s here, but so incredibly tiny that we fail to see it. For that matter it might need some incredible telescopic powers to see us.

Does intelligent complexity necessitate a particular size, scale or dimension? As anthro-centric humans, we fairly assume that an intelligent being would be made of organic molecules, be our scale of size and have a DNA blueprint. We are certainly an example where that’s the case, but are we proof that it’s always the case? I’ve never followed Star Trek episodes, but I know they must’ve covered this. 

I’m skipping the refill here at Starbucks. I’m too shaken up by the possibilities. There’s a chance, however small and beyond bizarre that Talk Talk is on to something…. Tomorrow Started. It might also mean that yesterday is approaching. Let’s try not to think about that too much, unless we can choose which yesterdays to relive.

© 2008 blogSpotter

Adamsville

Snickers says, "Hello" -- Picture by blogSpotter

by blogSpotter
I’m driving the 16 miles from Lampasas to my brother’s house, now approaching Adamsville. My usual mile-a-minute estimate fails here, because the narrow two-lane highway forces caution. My 55 mph (in a new Chevy HHR from Alamo Rent-a-car) is pissing off the locals, who roar around me in their F250’s and Avalanches. We’re in Central Texas hill country, and the late afternoon views of nearby Lucy Creek and cedar thickets are distracting me a little bit.

Adamsville has one intersection, ten houses, a service station, and Luke’s Music Hall. Five of the ten houses appear to be abandoned or in serious disrepair. A sign tells me that Izaro is nine miles east. I can’t help but wonder who lives in these houses now, or ever did. But in fact, appearances can be deceiving... My brother and his wife live in a beautiful 4-acre hillside “ranchette” just two miles north of Adamsville. They have two dogs, two cats and two pet donkeys (the donkeys are named Dinky and Snickers). My brother and his wife have very full lives rehabilitating old computers and restoring old cars. I enjoy a lengthy visit with them and their church friends – dinner included. Their back porch runs the length of the house and looks over a spectacular hill country view.

There was a time when I felt like I needed to be “where the action is”, the heart of a big city. How do you get by without Best Buy, Nordstrom’s and Olive Garden? What of nightclubs and restaurant row? I’ve lived at the Heart of Dallas now for 25 years and can’t say I’ve benefited all that much from the city beat. I know you can experience solitude in a throng of people. My brother has made me aware that you can have a sense of total belonging with a few well-chosen friends and companions.

As I go (somewhat unwillingly) into my 2nd half-century, I realize my needs are not what they were, or what I thought they ever were. Lampasas has what I need for all practical purposes: HEB, Blockbuster, Wendy’s, nearby friends and family. I could drive into Austin for weekend shopping forays. What of tripping the lights fantastic? What of the parties, museum galas, street fairs and phantasmagoric events of the big city? … It was all somewhat a mirage -- never had it, never will. I sometimes think that urban living drives one further inward, not outward. I’ve remained perfect strangers with many of my nearby neighbors. The biggest advantage of the city is the job selection. As you phase towards retirement, the job doesn’t matter so much. As you age your way into a prune-like senior citizen status, an active bar scene is way less a concern. If you’re lucky enough to be partnered, it’s even less a concern than that.

So, am I about to pack it all up and move to Green Acres? I still have to have HEB, so Adamsville loses the bet. And at 50, I still need to earn for my retirement – by all estimates, Social Security will be endangered by my 66th year. But would it be such a tragedy to “live small”? Most high school seniors in a small town chomp at the bit to leave. I think many boomers, like me, have become bored with suburban “Pleasant Valley Sundays” to borrow from the Monkees. You wouldn’t want to run into small-minded prejudices that characterize some small Texas towns but as more boomers make this late migration, it shouldn’t be as much of a concern.

And now, Luke’s Music Hall beckons…

© 2008 blogSpotter