Mad Men

"How did you get suckered into this?" Officer B asks as he wakes up yesterday to find me watching the Season 1 marathon of Mad Men on AMC.

"I don't know. It's despicable. Every character in it is despicable, but it certainly keeps your attention. I will tell you this: you better thank your luck stars that you aren't a male chauvinist pig or I would have had to bury you in the backyard ages ago."

Granted it is fiction and sensationalized, but I know that there were situations that terrible (and still are if we are to be honest). I'd have been in jail for homicide because the first time one of those slimy little creeps groped me I would have mailed his body parts home to his mother - but then I was raised not to tolerate any nonsense.

Johnny & June

When Walk the Line came out several years ago, I didn't want to like it. I can't explain why. So, when I did enjoy the movie it impressed upon me what a good story it actually is. I happened to catch it on TV Saturday and got drawn in again. I think I've blathered about it to everybody else I know, so why not you too? :)

The movie always leaves me wanting to know more about June Carter Cash. She must have been a phenomenal woman. I mean, she actually saved Johnny Cash. He was an absolute mess and she saved him. How often does that really happen? Of course, he had to want it for himself, or it never would have lasted, but you get the feeling that his love for her was the only reason he tried. There is something almost mythic about their love. Something that gives you hope. Who wouldn't want a love like Johnny & June?

P.S. YouTube has some fantastic old footage of the two of them performing together.

Fabulous Friday: Nick & Nora!

Can you believe that I had never seen The Thin Man until last night?! Well, neither can I. It had been recommended to me several times, but it had never crossed my path until yesterday. Thank you TCM. William Powell and Myrna Loy were adorable. "I'll have five martinis. Line them up right here. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5." Indeed. Have a lovely weekend!

Literarture, Art & the Aristocracy

So, here's the Pushkin post that got subverted by an animated hippo and a dancing dog. Somewhere the literary gods are shaking their heads in shame. I am not what you would call a fan of Russian literature, it's a bit gloomy for my taste. However, there is one novel that is an exception to that rule: Yvgeny Onegin by Alexander Pushkin. To say that I love this novel would be a gross understatement. I happen to have a few portraits of Pushkin and some of his progeny.

Alexander Pushkin

Natalia Gonchorova Nikolaevna Pushkina, wife of Alexander Pushkin

Countess Natalia Pushkina of Merenberg, daughter of Pushkin.

Countess Anastasia Mikhailovna deTorby, later Lady Zia Wernher,
daughter of the Countess of Merenburg, Grand-daughter of Pushkin.

And so my parting gift today is the final scene from Martha Fiennes brilliant cinematic version of Pushkin's novel, Onegin. To set the scene, Tatyana is a wild-eyed country girl who falls in love with Yvgeny, a young dandy who has inherited the nearby estate. He rejects her because she isn't sophisticated. Heartbroken, Tatyana moves to Moscow, debuts in society and marries into the aristocracy. Onegin and Tatyana meet again and he decides he wants her to be his mistress. Below is the final scene where she rejects him (Three cheers for strong women!). I can't help it, I love it when she asks him if she's noble enough for him now. When you think about when this novel was written, and that it was written by a man, it is pretty amazing that she doesn't swoon into Onegin's arms and surrender to his desires. And that, ladies and jellyspoons, is what makes me wish I had 5 minutes to ask Pushkin a few questions.

Hodge Podge

So, the creamed cabbage never got made. That sore throat turned into a nasty cold and I spent all weekend coughing like a consumptive. Kind of made for a crap weekend - except for the part where I called and gossiped with my mom. That was fun.

Don't you just love this painting? I found it yesterday when I was researching the Stuart Kings. I just finished a book about Mary Queen of Scots and I like to put faces to names. Anyway, she's got a sly little smirk and I can't help but think that Lettice Knollys must have been quite a character. Rather pretty too. You always read about these great historic beauties but the paintings rarely back up the accolades. I ran across a painting of Anne of Denmark, who married James I, and recoiled from the screen a bit. I know; I'm terrible.

Officer B and I went to see a movie yesterday - on a week night. The truth is our days off don't coincide so we hadn't gone to see a movie since he switched shifts back in January. We saw Iron Man, which was surprisingly good. Sadly, court fell on his other day off so he isn't getting much of a break this week. He had to get up early, put on the ol' uniform, and spend the morning listening to drunks and speeding soccer moms explain to the judge why they don't think they deserved a ticket. 'Cause, you know, the law applies to all those "other" people. I'm glad he likes his job, but it would make me insane.

State of the Nation.

I've been telling myself for days that I need to make a post, but in my defense the weather has been so pretty that the thought of spending more than a few moments indoors or away from a window wasn't very compelling. And then my sister has been visiting and that chucked any possibility of staring at a computer monitor.

Flowers are blooming everywhere and I have some beautiful pictures to post. My rose bushes are loaded with buds and the peonies are just starting to open. Lil' sis helped me plant a hydrangea and Easter lily that I had been given. Gerrard decided to dig the lily up and drag it across the yard, but after a severe scolding and some protective rocks it may survive the abuse.

I have been feeling much better. Even been in to work a bit which has been good for my mental health. I am very bad at doing nothing and if I don't feel productive I get depressed. So a few hours at work keeps me feeling useful.

I have read several books and watched tons of movies. Fever 1793 by Laura Halse Anderson was a huge favorite, as was And Only To Deceive by Tasha Alexander. The latter has to be one of the better mysteries I've read in quite awhile. I rented the movie Moliere and was enchanted. I remember reading The Misanthrope in my teens and feeling as though I had found my personal manifesto. I also saw Atonement (amazing story, terribly depressing), Charlie Wilson's War (charming characters, very enlightening), Juno (humane, insightful, clever characters) and lots of oldies but goodies.

Hope you all are happy and well!

Dune, Toilets, & Summoning Aliens

Have you ever been reading a book but somehow you feel like you missed a page, or there was something the author forgot to tell you? I just got off the phone with my younger sister and she shared with me an incident from our youth, that at the time made no sense to me. Now I get it and to be honest, feel a little bad about. It illustrates a couple of points, the least of which is how very weird my family is. My sister is not going to thank me for telling this story, but in my defense anything you tell a writer is fair game, that’s just the way it is. Love ya, kiddo.

Like most of my stories you need a little background material. My life story has footnotes. If I tried to tell the story without the footnotes, we’d never get to the punch line. Okay, my mother’s favorite book in the entire world, galaxy, and universe is Frank Herbert’s Dune. If you haven’t heard of it or seen the movie, don’t bother because it’s too late for you (or consider yourself spared). I’ve been reading and re-reading this book since my early teens and I still can’t fathom half of what it’s about. Second, my sister is eight years younger than me, so there were a lot of things that I was reading and watching that she probably got exposed to a little too soon. We like to warp young minds in my family - call it a hobby.

As a kid, Annie had this inexplicable fear of aliens. Many was the night that she stumbled into my room afraid that the aliens were going to get her. And I let her sleep with me, even though she kicked the crap out of me and I ended up in the floor. I let her sleep with me because I remembered being scared of stuff, and, as big and bad as I tried to be, there was stuff that still scared me – like zombies, but that’s another story. Anyway, Annie also had another issue. She didn’t like to flush the toilet (this is the part where she starts hating me). Many was the morning that the teenage Mrs. Fox would trudge out of bed only to find "unpleasantness in the facilities" (there, I tried to soften the blow). Like any good older sister I’d scream at her and call her names, but I never thought to ask why.

Today I learned why. See in the movie version of Dune (which was watched religiously in our home) they use these devices called thumpers to draw the giant, man-eating sandworms away from wherever the hero or his comrades were (I know I’ve lost a lot of you, but I swear that’s a pretty good layman’s description). Somehow, because of this, my poor little sister got it in her head that there was a specific sequence of noises that would summon the aliens. And of course, the loudest thing in our house was the toilet. So, poor little sis was afraid that if she flushed the toilet the aliens would come and get her.

I know! I feel like such a jerk for yelling at her!

So there, in addition to compounding her childhood fears I’ve published them for the world to see. Aren’t I the best? You know what’s worse? My mom’s gonna be mad that that’s all she got out of Dune.

If you've survived this far through my story, let me say thanks to all you beautiful people who responded to my last post. Thank you for your support and kind words and understanding and all-around divinity. You are jewels without price.

Rear Window

I know. I know. This is my second recent post on old movies, but I can't help what catches my interest. You're gonna have to bear with me. Yesterday, while Officer B was cruising the web for kevlar vests for K-9's (that's a developing story that I promise to tell later - and yes, our dogs are fine.) I ran across Alfred Hitchcock's Rear Window on TCM.



The first time I saw this movie I was 17 (Can you believe that no one bothered to educate me sooner?). It was a Saturday and I was getting ready to go to my crummy job as a clerk at the local drug store. I hated that job, but I liked having pocket money. Anyway, I noticed that my mother was engrossed in something she was watching on TV. This was pretty rare because there was very little on the television, other than football, that mother considered worth her time. She generally referred to it as the Idiot Box and tried to discourage my sister and me from spending any time worshiping in front of it.

I was procrastinating so I sat down and got sucked in too. "What are we watching?" I interrupted. "Rear Window," she whispered, her eyes glued to the screen. I had to leave for work about the time that the little dog was digging in the flower garden. It was hard to walk away. What was buried in the flower bed? Did Mr. Thorwald kill his wife? What outfit would Grace Kelly wear next? Mother wouldn't tell, "You'll just have to watch it." I spent my entire shift thinking about it. I stopped at the video store after work and rented the movie (see, the advantage of having pocket money). My life has never been the same. This movie is solely responsible for my addiction to mysteries. When I think of all the money I have spent on mystery novels and movie tickets, I almost cringe - almost.

Fabulous Friday: Charade

This is one of my favorite movies. It's perfect. Absolutely, perfect. I love the part where she takes his glasses and says she bets he doesn't need them. It would have been so easy to overplay it, but Audrey is just charming.

Happy Friday!

Brush Up Your Shakespeare!

I love this . . . Prithee!

The Clever North Wind

Chocolat is one of those movies that I forget how much I enjoy. When it crosses my path, and I sit still long enough to pay attention, it never fails to leave me smiling.

There are so many elements that make it wonderful. To begin with, the cast is marvelous. Juliette Binoche is incandescent, Johnny Depp is at his charming rag-a-muffin best (perhaps the only movie I like him better in is Finding Neverland), and let us not forget the divine Leslie Caron as Madame Audel. She barely has a line, but she eats chocolate so impishly.

The costumes are lovely. Does any one look bad in a cardigan and those flared 50's skirts? And the music! To think how pale life would be, if I had not been introduced to Django Reinhardt and the intoxicating rhythm of Gypsy Jazz. I dare you not to dance.

Chocolat also reminds me why I love to cook. I'm afraid I subscribe to the Mary Poppins School of Crisis Management, which is probably why my waist band keeps expanding and all my pets are overweight. No, food can be miraculous. A dish made with loving sincerity may not fix the world's woes, but it can give a troubled soul the few moments of calm it needs to find a solution. Why I have known a homemade oatmeal cookie to calm the most stressed of law enforcement officers! Never underestimate the power of a homemade cookie.

I will suspend my disbelief

In other cinematic observations the hubby and I went to see National Treasure: Book of Secrets. If you can ignore the ludicrous plot; it's romping good fun. That being said, how would a golden city hidden in the Black Hills of South Dakota be of any use to the Southern Confederacy? "Howdy boys! We'd really appreciate it if you'd turn the other way while we haul out several tons of gold through Union territory. Thank ya kindly!" The villain was wishy-washy and Nick Cage's hair was bizarre looking. Other than that, Helen Mirren played his mum rather entertainingly.