This one's a classic, and I must admit, that I was well into adulthood before viewing it for the first time. Sort of like declining from my buddy, Paulie, to see "Casablanca," at the late late show just off the campus of "Truck U., my old alma mater. Circa 19 and 72 or was it 73?
I never saw the attraction of Bogie until later in life. But the boy had charisma out the ying-yang. Because he wasn't particularly good-looking, and he wasn't tall. But the dames dug him. And he was a tough hombre.
So now when any of his movies are playing on the tv, yours truly will more than likely indulge.
They don't make 'em....v.c. ( click here for a funny clip from "Play It Again, Sam."P.S. The democrats Shirley love this movie. The Nazis are wreaking havoc with civilization. ( circa World War I ) The new-wave dems like to bandy the term "Nazis" around, whenever anyone disagrees with them. Eh? 
If I were a reporter and had been deemed worthy of the big story, I would be writing it now instead of hammerin' away on ye olde keyboard.
My new job entails meeting quite interesting people. As opposed to the old one where I was wuthering away. apologies to heathcliffe.
But then the other night I ran into one of my old guests from Hell Whole.
"Where's the Pic**** Cafeteria around here?" she said.
"There isn't one," I politely replied.
"You manage this Burger King?"
"No!" And I'm thinking, "Thank you, Jesus," cos a Burger King is a freaking nightmare.
"I, er, manage a coppola bars."
"Which one," she asked. Btw, she was fiftyish with beaucoup dreadlocks and had on sox but no shoes.
"Er, the one down the concourse there."
"If it wasn't bad enough paying $5.50 for a Heineken, the bartender never gave me a glass for my beer."
"Well, we should but we don't always do it, because most people don't want a glass."
"I sat there waiting, and she never offered me a glass. AND I wasn't going to ask for one."
"I apologize and if your headin' back that way, I'll make sure you get a glass this time."
Anyway, after my ordeal, I was thankful to be removed from this behavior. Because the guests at Hell Whole were anal like this former one that was encountered by yours truly.
And if I were writing the big story, instead of.... its headline would Shirley read:
"Encounter With Rowdy Guest Leaves Restaurant Manager Shaking His Head!"
World gone mad, v.c.P.S. Sorry. No postscripts tonite, unless this one counts, of course.
It is getting a bit nippy outside. Halloween is two shakes of a sheep's tail around the corner. Tricker treaters will soon be knockin' at the door dressed as Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers, Ronald Reagen, Nancy Pelosi, or Mark Foley.
Thanksgiving is right around the bend. We'll be drowning ourselves in turkey, dressing, yams, blackeye peas, polk salad, and tater pie. And, me, who once thought of himself as Mr. November, will be enjoying T.G. with the rest of the family, sans belligerent guests who are/were either tired of waiting on their order; or had their order SCREWED-UP big time; or were just too damn anal no one could satisfy their cravings.
Then Christmas will arrive. And there'll be the same old bullshit about not saying "Merry Christmas" because it isn't politically correct. And we'll give lots of presents; and charge them on our credit cards; and the ads for bankruptcy will appear via the tv every other commercial.
And we will think back on Christmas' long ago. I'll remember the pecan log that Kitty's grandmother always gave me. And how she would gather up all the wrapping paper that was on the floor, after we ripped it to smithereens.
And then there's New Years. And Valentines Day. And Easter. And Mother's Day. And the 4th of July.
And before you know it, it's getting nippy, again. The leaves are turning colors, and a jug of apple cider is a prerequisite.
Time flies when you're havin' fun, v.c.P.S. On a winter's day!
This one is from '68.Erica Gavin only made a handful of movies, and I have no idea why her film career didn't take off. Maybe prudish studio elements didn't want to cast her after a sex film. Maybe she quit the industry for a different life. It's a shame though, as she's an undoubted screen presence, those evil eyebrows sitting atop big, expressive eyes are something else! Gavin throws herself into the role, not just with the sex scenes - well, except the lesbian scene - but with the full gamut of Vixen's passion, hatred, joy and sadness. Vixen is as much Erica Gavin's film as Russ Meyer's, yet four films later she disappeared from the screen. It's our loss as well as Erica's, if she stopped making films involuntarily. Highly recommended, and not just for the breasts! Also from DVD Drive InArmed with giant hair, outrageous eyebrows and a body that wouldn't quit, Erica Gavin IS Vixen, the sexually insatiable wife of Tom, an oblivious pilot in the wilderness of Canada. The couple run a mountain resort where they house guests in search of a secluded beautiful vacation spot, but every guest gets more than they bargained for when confronted with VIXEN...woman or animal? An accurate question: Vixen is an immoral harlot, setting her sights on man or woman to feed her unending desire for sexual satisfaction. Sex with Tom is great, but she also finds time to screw an off-duty Mountie, a handsome tourist and his unhappy redheaded wife, and even her own brother! But Vixen finds that sex can't save her when a violent Communist commandeers her husband's plane to fly to Cuba!As chronicled in G.P.'s last foray, I saw "Vixen" in '68. It was showing at one of the new artsy-fartsy theatres that were coming into vogue at the time. The movies, as we all know, would never be the same.
If Golden Pond were a television show, it would have been cancelled a long time ago.
"What are G.P.'s ratings, J.B.?"
"Nielson says the Pond is on life support, B.R."
"We had high hopes for the concept but seems the public has never caught on to the repartee, eh?"
"Get me J.G. down in the creative department. Tell him we need a new reality show to replace the catfish!"
"Who's gonna tell the Cat he is kaput, fini.'"
"Not me. he's a passive-aggressive sort. Kitty, his wife, says he's a time bomb just waiting to explode."
"If you don't have the balls, J.B., I'll do it. I'll call him on his cell phone and deliver the bad news."
"Yeah, that's the ticket, J.B. No wonder you're in charge of the network, allah William Paley from back inna day."
"You know I'm a'gonna miss those youtube episodes from the cat."
"Seems he told me 'all the young dudes' from Mott the Hoople was next on the agenda."
"Zowie! J.B." ****
"Well, it's his own fault. He got away from writing those, er, brilliant stories that were the cat's meow."
"Righto. Old bean. He forgot what got him here in the first place. Those scintillating forays into the infantile."
"Yes, he began posting pictures allah Eastman Kodak. And with little commentary. Nobody seemed to care about the Fab 4, the one-eyed cyclops from Sinbad, the dames from Bogie's era, the Hell's Angels causing a melee at Altamount, or the death of Popeye via spinach."
"Wasn't that the one 'Slippery' allegedly sent to him?"
"'Slippery' was a figment of the cat's imagination. There is no real 'Slippery.' The fish invented him along with ibbq4you2 and hootsbuddy."
"Now wait a minute, J.G. I know for a fact that there is a real 'hoots.'"
"Yes, I read his column religiously. I like to keep in tune with the democratic ideals, because we all know the solutions to all of our problems is through dialogue."
"Sure there's a 'hoots.' But it's really the fish portraying himself as a liberal dem."
"Cat's really a Republican, isn't he?"
"He always said he was a, well, uh, er, an independent."
"Right you are. When the boy was dazzling us with his prose, he did mention the affiliation."
"Perhaps we can entice his liberal sister, Olga, to take his place."
"By jove, you've done it. Get in touch with her toute' suite."
"Au revoir, v.c. You're fired."P.S. All the young dudes? Eh?P.S.S. **** [ obscure reference-David Bowie, the creator of aforementioned song, named his son, Zowie, and changed the pronunciation of Bowie so's it would rhyme ]
Back in the glorious days of 1968, yours truly bought "Revolution" by the pre-Fab, er, Fab 4. It came packaged as a "45." Some of youse might not be familiar with the terminology. A long story so we will mosey onward.
Me being curiouser [ not sure if we are stealing from Dickens ] flipped the record over to notice a song entitled "Hey Jude." My first instinct was: "this tune will suck because it's the 'B' side. Well, not really suck, cos it's me boys but will probably not measure up to 'Revolution.'"
The joke was on me. [ apologies to the Bee Gees ] Number 1: "Hey Jude" was the "A" side; and secondly, the song blew me away. It had me at "hey."
I hate to admit this-you know how guys are-but I started dancing around the room. It was my first actual spiritual revelation, as I write now in hindsight. My first religious experience. It was 1968 and flower power was in vogue. I was just a mere lad of 17, but the tune transformed me into a different person. It was the most beautiful melody I had ever heard.
As chronicled earlier, "Revolution" was the song being played on the air waves, but when "Hey Jude" was broadcast on the old "Smothers Brothers" show, it immediately went through the roof in sales and popularity.
I have always said that "I Am the Walrus" is my favorite Beatles tune, but "Hey Jude" is interchangeable.
So this is tonite's foray. And thanks to youtube, who was bought by google last week.
Take a sad song and make it better, v.c.
P.S. B Side Smee Side!
P.S.S. As the story goes from Rolling Stone Magazine:
The Beatles' biggest U.S. single -- nine weeks at Number One -- was also their longest, at seven minutes and eleven seconds. During the recording sessions, the Beatles' producer, George Martin, objected to the length, claiming DJs would not play the song. "They will if it's us," John Lennon shot back. Paul McCartney wrote "Hey Jude" in June 1968, singing to himself on his way to visit Lennon's soon-to-be-ex-wife, Cynthia, and their son, Julian. The opening lines were, McCartney said in The Beatles Anthology, "a hopeful message for Julian: 'Come on, man, your parents got divorced. I know you're not happy, but you'll be OK.' " McCartney changed "Jules" to "Jude" -- a name inspired by Jud from the musical Oklahoma! -- and presented a demo tape to Lennon, who loved the song. He also thought McCartney was singing to him, about his relationship with Yoko Ono and the strains on the Lennon-McCartney partnership. But his self-centered reading underscored the universal comfort in McCartney's lyrics and the song's warm, rolling charm, fortified in the fade-out by a thirty-six-piece orchestra whose members (with one grumpy exception) also clapped and sang along -- for double their usual fee.
Kevin Bacon starred in the first one, and for his efforts, received a knife through the throat. And why did Jason Voorhees choose poor 'ol Kevin to meet the grim reaper? Cos he was having promiscuous sex with a member of the opposite sex. The setting: Camp Crystal Lake. Far from civilization.
As chronicled in "Scream," via Wes Craven. If you be a young adult and take off your clothes and have sex and yer in the woods, then a serial killer will prey upon you and slice and dice you-up faster than a vegematic. Apologies to Ron Popiel.*
I have been hooked on these demented forays ever since my mom took me to see "I Was A Teenage Werewolf," which starred L'il Joe Cartwright. Circa 1956 or thereabouts, and me, a mere tyke of five.
Semper fi, er, sci-fi, v.c.P.S. The inventor of "pocket fisherman" and spray shoe polish for those annoying bald spots on your head.
