The Memorial Service

The memorial service is by turns somber and joyful. While it is a celebration of a life well-lived it is also a reminder that the beloved family member and friend is gone from this world forever.

Hugs are exchanged, stories of the departed are shared, there are a few tears but also a few laughs. Some guests partake heartily of the snacks provided. There is also coffee and pastries. Some remark on the quality of the fare. Most everyone comments on the eulogies and how well they summed up the deceased and honored his life.

Inevitably conversations drift towards other topics. People catch up. Vacation plans are shared. Someone has bought a new house and is asked about it. A young woman tells of her admission to a top graduate program. A recent injury someone suffered is discussed and commiserated over.

Finally it is time to go. The hall has been reserved for an evening event. Some stay and help fold chairs, collect trash, wash dishes. Idle chatter accompanies the completing of these tasks.

The last of the attendees leave to find it has been a warm, sunny day. But the sun is fading and a breeze is cooling.

People go home. As individuals. As couples. As families. One person takes a bus. A couple call an Uber. Each are satisfied with the service they've just attended and relieved not to have been the one "honored." They are quite happy to be continuing with life. With all its stress and pain and discomforts and awkward moments there are offsetting joys and triumphs. It's grand to be part of it. To participate. To have agency. To think and breathe and feel. There is determination among many to use the deceased's exemplary life as an example and to make the most of whatever time they have left. There are thoughts of the fragility of life and how lucky we are to be here at all.

At home people change out of skirts and dress shirts into leisure wear. Most of the attendees prepare dinner though a few order out and one couple goes to their favorite restaurant. Two people don’t have dinner at all having supped enough at the memorial.

Most people store the program from the memorial with other of life’s mementos. But some will recycle it or have it laying around for a few days before disposing of it.

Most conversations are related to daily affairs. The deceased is beginning to be forgotten. Those closest to him will think of him often in the days ahead though less so with each passing day. He’ll be remembered on his birthdate and the anniversary of his death. He’ll be spoken of occasionally at family gatherings and when his visage is noted in photo albums. He’ll be missed at the first Thanksgiving and Christmas after his death. There’ll be a few people who talk out of what he lovely sending off he got at the memorial service. 

We did him justice, they'll say proudly. Then move on.

Anyone Have Film of Me at a Party Circa 50 years Ago?

That's me, the party animal at age 23

How would I feel if there was film of me at a party when I was in my early twenties? What would it be like to see the younger me? Surely it would evoke some memories. But some of it might be cringe-worthy, especially if it was an occasion in which I’d drank too much. (There were many of those.)

I’d either be accompanied by a young woman or I’d be hitting on women left and right. Or — admittedly — both. How many of the people at the party would I recognize? How many could I name? What would I be talking about? Let’s see if I can guess…. Likely I’d be telling stories to amuse, to connect, to flirt. I’ve always been a good storyteller and I’ve always been funny. I was often “the life of the party” which means I made myself the center of attention and helped make parties better. Better how? More fun. I was the guy who got people dancing, or laughing. I brought energy. I discoursed on a variety of topics. Gossip. Sports. Politics. Film. 

It’s odd. I’m something of a misanthrope but I love people. I love being around others. Yet I’m judgmental. I like to watch people and let my imagination run wild and make backstories for them. People repel and fascinate and bore and interest me. I’m partial to woman. Have been ever since adolescence. 

Things were different when I was young because I was drunk half the time. More like seven-eights of the time if we’re talking about parties. And at parties I was always looking “to score.” I’ve always loved women. Been fascinated by them. In my youth I had lovers tell me that they could tell that I genuinely liked women and that many men really don’t. Still I tended to go from one relationship to another without so much as a by your leave. So, yeah, I was a cad in a lot of ways. I’d quickly fall in love with a woman and soon thereafter become interested in someone else.

But let’s get back to the footage of me at a party. I’d probably be struck by how damn cute I was. I wasn’t every girl’s cup of tea. Some women like taller, darker men. I’m short and blonde but a lot of young women loved my long blonde locks, my blue eyes and my athletic body. If I had shorts on women admired my legs. That’s a thing about getting old, for me, anyway, I miss my boyish good looks. Now I take pride in looking so much younger than I am. I hear that a lot from people that I look younger than I am. 

Fucking goddamned youth. I really enjoyed it. It’s a shame I was such an idiot at the time. Imagine doing it all over again with the wisdom I’ve acquired since then. Imagine all the mistakes I wouldn’t have made. I could have, would have still had a bloody good time but not stepped on so many toes. Not gotten blackout drunk. Not endured wretched hangovers. Not have squandered so much money. Taken my writing more seriously. You can drive yourself nuts with all that I should have done this, I could have done that crap. Here I am doing it again. Fucking regrets will kill you. Not literally. No, but they’ll damage your soul.

Anyway I survived the mistakes and learned a great deal along the way. Most of it too late to do me much good. 

I shouldn’t beat myself about my wayward youth. A lot was going against me. A stacked deck. Addiction. PTSD from a traumatic childhood. The drinking — in many ways — got me through a lot of pain. The cure eventually become a whole other problem. 

But let’s get back to the footage of me at a party. Better yet how about snippets from many parties from seventeen to twenty four. My heyday, so to speak.

What would I see? A good dancer for one. I played for laughs some of the time but for a white boy I had moves. That would be damn fun to watch. I wonder what kind of lines I used on women. I wonder what kind of jokes or funny stories I told. From early childhood I’ve been good at making people laugh. I wonder how charming I was, how glib. I wonder what kind of insights I had. 

I don’t have a lot of memories at parties (the drinking, of course). But I remember a few incidents. I remember meeting girls and successfully wooing them. I remember getting roaring drunk. I remember dancing. I remember people being damn glad to see me make it to a party and in some cases damn glad to see me go. I remember hosting parties, crashing parties. I remember huge outdoor parties and smaller intimate ones. I loved all kinds.

How fucking cool would it be to have film of me in action?  A piece of history. A reminder. Yeah, maybe embarrassing at times but  I could fast forward through those parts. 

The good ole days.

The Effortless but Compelling Robert Redford -- RIP

Redford in Three Days of the Condor

Effortless. Robert Redford, whose death was announced yesterday,  was not a great actor but my goodness he was an effective one who was perfect in several iconic roles.

It’s impossible to imagine anyone else as The Sundance Kid, a role he was born to play in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. This side of Steve McQueen there’s been no one cooler on the big screen. Again opposite Paul Newman he was similarly well-suited to the role of Johnny Hooker in The Sting. In retrospect it seems a shame that Redford and Newman didn’t make more than two films together especially given their close friendship. 

Redford was also perfect as Bill McKay in The Candidate (a vastly underrated film). He was so good as the dashing young candidate for the U.S. Senate that you found yourself wishing Redford would run for office.

He also fit perfectly as Bob Woodward in All the President’s Men, surely the best of his films. He had the unenviable task of playing opposite Dustin Hoffman who embodied Carl Bernstein. He also shared screen time in that movie with Jason Robards, Martin Balsam and Jack Warden. Redford more than held his own. He always did.

For me his second best film was Three Days of the Condor a classic political paranoia film from the Seventies. His co-star was an in-her-prime Faye Duneway and they were a superb screen pairing. Condor called on Redford’s acting chops more than most films did and he was equal to the task.

Redford made many other films better such as Hot Rock, Little Fauss and Big Halsy, Spy Game, Sneaker, The Natural, The Great Waldo Pepper,  Brubaker, Jeremiah Johnson, Barefoot in the Park and Downhill Racer. That’s not a bad list to go along with his best pictures: Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, The Sting, The Candidate, All the President’s Men and Three Days of the Condor. (Fifteen films that ranged from good to great.)

Redford stepped comfortably into roles. He brought incredibly good looks, an effortless charm and intelligence. When he had to he could play dumb as he did as Sundance or naive as he did as Hooker. In both cases he let Newman be the “smart one.” He played it very smart in All the President’s, Condor, Spy Game and Sneaker. He played it cool in almost every role especially Downhill Racer in which he made downhill skiing look even cooler than it does in the Winter Olympics. 

Redford was a movie star in the truest sense of the word. He looked as good in a tux as he did as cowpoke or a CIA agent. His gait was easy. He was athletic enough without gym-built muscles. His voice was smooth and easy and when it was needed he could turn on a disarming smile.

It’s strange to think he’s no longer among us. For me he’s been around since high school. I suppose it was as Sundance that I first became aware of him. That role and that film were formative for me in my growing love of cinema. A few years later I was totally beguiled by The Sting and took people to see just to enjoy their reaction to the surprise ending. But of course it wouldn’t have been half the film without Newman and Redford. As a budding journalist I was inspired by him and Hoffman in All the President’s and was intrigued by Condor. I still am.

Redford never won an acting Oscar and I don’t think he was close to earning one. But he was still an important actor who’ll not soon be forgotten. You don't have to go all Marlon Brando as Stanley Kowalski to be effective on the big screen.

That he was politically aware and advocated for good causes makes him an admirable person in the bargain.

What a cool guy.

Are These the End Times for American Democracy?

Are these the end times for democracy in the United States? According to recent articles people who have been identified  as “celebrating” the recent passing of an individual who shall here remain nameless, are being subject to doxxing. That is the release of private information with malicious intent. Some people, such as MSNBC analyst Matthew Dowd, have been sacked for expressing a negative opinion about the murdered activist. So you can just forget all that nonsense in the Bill of Rights about free speech, it's an anachronism. None dare do anything save praise the name of a white supremacist who once called Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. an "awful" person. 

You will note that I have not used the name of the assassination victim  Why? Am I afraid of retribution? Yes, as a matter of fact I am. Long time readers of this blog (both of us) are well-used to me speaking my mind on any and all subjects including (maybe especially) politics. I’ve not hesitated to express strong opinions about the current resident of the White House. Is that all changing? Need I fear….what, exactly? Being smeared by right wing groups? Deportation? Slander? I don’t know. Also, will this continue? Is this the new United States? Are we never to feel free to make our feelings known again? Again, I don’t know.

Here’s how bad things are in the U.S: From the New York Times — “U.C. Berkeley Gives Names of Students and Faculty to Government for Antisemitism Probe

The University of California, Berkeley, told around 160 people that their names were in documents related to antisemitism complaints that were demanded by the Trump administration.”

In other words the university named names. McCarthyism 2.0 and the purges are next. American institutions of higher education have been under attack since Trumpy’s second term began in January. Like health and science they are deemed dangerous. Likely because they are sources of knowledge and information. A well-informed electorate is dangerous to an authoritarian regime and that’s we’ve got today folks. Look at the militarization of law enforcement with the national guard invading U.S. cities. We’re a burgeoning police state. One of the leading forces of that police state will be ICE which is already in the business of rounding up immigrants of all stripes and sending them to “detention centers” in other countries. Our streets aren’t safe from….law enforcement officials? 

African-American history is being erased, the latest on this being reported today by the Washington Post, the removal of historic photograph of enslaved man from National Gallery of Art. 

Also today there are stories about how the Trumpy administration wants to crackdown on liberal groups because in a fascist state you cannot have opposition groups.

Of course it wont matter much what with vaccines being done away which will result in diseases being rampant.

The country is doomed.

Outside of Bernie Sanders, Jasmine Crockett and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez there seems to be little political opposition (oh sure, Chuck Schumer may pen another strongly worded letter). In normal circumstances one would look towards the mid-term elections but these are not normal circumstances and who knows if we’ll continue to have free and fair elections.

In my lifetime the United States has never been a more depressing place than it is today. Evil forces are entrenched in power and they’re doing the devil’s work. Would that there was reason for hope, for optimism. I don’t know where that would come from.

Darkest before the dawn? Let’s hope

Have Some Rather Unique Questions You'd Like Answered While Watching a Really Good Movie? This Blog Post is For You!

Ruan Gosling (left) in Half Nelson

You want to learn something and watch a movie at the same time? Good idea. Go for it. But stick around here for a second because I’m going to give you ten suggestions. I’ll make sure there’s a variety to suit all manner of tastes and moods. I’ll name a film and tell you what you can learn as I brilliantly (with all due humility) anticipate your desires. Sound good? Here we go.

Half Nelson (2006) Fleck. Learn what it’s like to be a dedicated young middle school teacher in the inner city while also battling an addiction problem. See Ryan Gosling star in one of his best roles (for my money his very best). Half Nelson is an underrated gem that I totally related to. Realistic as hell, believe me. The teacher's totally appropriate with an African American female student will be a lesson in itself.

Melancholia (2011) von Trier. Want to learn what it might be like to be around someone who suffers from clinical depression as the apocalypse approaches? Look no further. Kirsten Dunst here stars as a woman who exhibits classic signs of clinical depression, including emotional withdrawal, fatigue, inability to experience pleasure, and difficulty functioning. But as the end is nigh she’s the one who holds it together while everyone else is freaking out. Great stuff. 

Cabaret (1972) Fosse. Ever find yourself wondering what it must have been like to be a bi-sexual English teacher in Berlin who's involved with a self-possessed Cabaret singer shortly before the Nazi takeover? Check out Michael York’s character in this cinematic classic based on the Christoper Isherwood novel. You’ll also get to hear and see some amazing song and dance productions which is what you'd expect from a Bob Fosse film. But those damn Nazis are looming. Yuck!

Inside Llewyn Davis (2013) Coens. I’ll bet you're curious about what it must have been like to be not-quite-good-enough-to-be-famous folk singer in the early Sixties. See Oscar Isaac as the title character in this terrific film from the Coen Brothers. The incredible frustration and hurt of realizing that you’re good, but not good enough, is one of the themes running through the picture. It's also a bit of an Odyssey as exemplified by a cat. At the end you’ll hear the voice of one of the lucky few who did make the breakthrough.

All Quiet on the Western Front (1930) Milestone. I’ll just bet you’ve spent some time trying to imagine yourself a soldier in the Great War. Wonder no more. This, one of the great war pictures and certainly one of the better anti-war pictures of all time, will give you much more than a clue. For one thing you’ll learn that a lot of your mates will die. You’ll also learn that you’ll be expected to kill. You’ll also see how those sitting it out on the Homefront  have no real sense of the horror soldiers go through.

The 39 Steps (1935) Hitchcock. What would it be like to be accused of a crime that you didn’t commit? How would you feel having to go on the run to both evade the law and prove your innocence? Frankly there are several Hitchcock films with this theme but why not go with my personal favorite of that particular sub genre? Gorgeous black and white from London to Scotland and back. People who aren’t what they seem. A pretty blonde who reluctantly helps our hero. Hitch at his best.

Beau Travail (1999) Denis. I get the sense, dear reader(s) that you’d love to get a sense of life in the French foreign legion. You also are probably the type who would like to see a film set in Djibouti. I’ve got just the thing from director Claire Denis. You’ll discover that it was not all glamour and rollicking fun in the legion. Indeed you’ll see what a brutal and unforgiving time it could be. What’s that, you ask, is this a highly regarded film? How’s this: it ranked at number seven in the most recent Sight and Sound poll of greatest films. 

Warren Beatty and Diane Keaton in Reds

Reds (1981) Beatty. So you’ve probably found yourself contemplating what it would have been like to be John Reed, the journalist and communist activist from the early years of the 20th century. I guarantee you’ll wonder no more after seeing Warren Beatty’s self-directed portrayal of Reed and his pals and wife and fellow journalist Louise Bryant. You’ll meet such noted figures as Emma Goldman, Eugene O’Neill, Big Bill Heywood and…more. Indeed you’ll learn about the Greenwich Village Bohemian radicals of the 1910s and get a lesson in the early days of the Russian Revolution. It’s a long movie, but whattaya expect given the richness of content?

Some Like it Hot (1959) Wilder: Has this ever happened to you? You’ve witnessed a mob hit and the gangsters want to shut you up — permanently — so you go on the run disguised as member of an all female band? It hasn’t!? And I guess that you’ve never lived in Chicago or been in Miami in the 1920? Before your time, I spose. Well then pal you’re going to have learn about that particular experience from this classic directed by Billy Wilder with a cast that includes Marilyn Monroe, Jack Lemon and Tony Curtis. Not too shabby.

The Exterminating Angel (1962) Buñuel. I’ll wager that you and your company have been able to leave every room you’ve had a dinner party in. In fact, I’ll go one further and say that you’ve likely made it successfully out of every room you’ve endeavored to exit. But in so doing you’ve doubtless speculated at what would happen if — for inexplicable reasons — you couldn’t. I’ve just made a pretty darn strong argument for you to watch this iconic film by Luis Bunuel. Watch as people struggle to do the ordinary, can’t figure out why and wrestle with the consequences.

See how much you can learn from moving pictures? Watch one today!

The Jumper, A Story of Reincarnation

So this guy who has been totally despondent about how his life has turned out decides to jump to his death from a small city’s tallest building. He’d led a pretty dull life and wanted to do something dramatic to end it, make a big show of his suicide. An overdose in his bedroom all alone and being discovered a few days later his decaying body stinking up the joint was not what he wanted. Probably this guy didn’t consider the fact that by jumping — this was in the middle of the day — downtown he might land on someone and kill them. Hell, maybe he did consider and thought, what the fuck, so I take another person out. He’s also thinking maybe someone will have the presence of mind to take a photo of him while he’s falling. Ya know so his picture will make the papers and sort of make up for his years of anonymity. Anyway the day comes and he’s clearly not going to lose his nerve. He’s been a failure at everything he’s tried and his love life has mostly been for shit. He wants it all over with. Well, he gets to the top floor where he knows there’s an empty office ‘cause he’s scouted the place. He opens this large window and decides, what the fuck I’m gonna take a running jump and leap out of the window, that’ll really make for a show. First time he slips on a piece of paper that’s on the floor. He thinks, well that’s typical of my life, I even screw up trying to off myself. But undaunted he goes again. This time making sure there’s no paper on the floor. He gets a good head of steam and leaps out the window. He clears the window by several feet so that when he lands it’ll maybe be in the street or at least the curb. But here’s the thing, he’s midair about to start his descent, so to speak, when it occurs to him he must look like an idiot hanging for a millisecond in mid air about to fall to his death. Maybe, I didn’t think this through, he thinks. But of course it’s too late for him to, let’s say, change course. So he spends his last seconds as a sentient being feeling embarrassed — which kind of sums up the poor sap’s life.

Hold on, Bob, how can you possibly know all this? You’re trying to tell me what this guy was thinking in his last seconds of life. Was any of this true?

It’s all true. Every word of it.

You would have had to have been there in the room he jumped from to know that he slipped before making it out the window. Not to mention the fact that you claim to know his thoughts just before dying.

I’m sure of them.

How?

It was me.

Bob, evidently you’re not aware of this but you happen to be very much alive.

This is my story from a past life. I jumped to my death on October 22, 1936.

You seriously expect me to accept that you believe in reincarnation and that you remember events from a past life?

Yup.

How do you come by this….knowledge, of a past life? I’ve known you for what, fifteen, sixteen years and you’ve never mentioned anything of this sort before.

Good question. I was looking through old newspapers on line to see if I could find information on my parents who grew up in Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio when I happened upon this front page story of someone jumping to his death from a downtown building. There was a photo of him in mid fall taken from not too far away. I was curious so I read the story and it all came back to me like it happened yesterday. I knew for certain I was that guy. I’d never for a second believed or even much thought about reincarnation until that moment. Then I read everything I could find about this guy’s life, which wasn’t much because he was a nobody. It was all familiar. I found a copy of his high school year book in the library. I knew his nickname and interests before even looking. I could tell you details about some of his classmates including which one were his friends. I was this guy. I know it with every fiber of my being. I know his life from a to zed.

Unbelievable. And you say you have no doubts about this.

None. I’m certain. Look, I don’t blame you for being skeptical. I wouldn’t have believed it myself before I saw this guy’s story but —-

What was his — or should I say, your —name?

Henry Kermit. He was born on the second day of the 20th century, January 2, 1900. Worked a variety of his jobs but mostly, up until his death, as a data entry clerk for the biggest company in town.

Sounds boring.

It was. Remember I was this guy. I was Henry Kermit. A real loser. I got no breaks in life. Pretty ordinary looking fellow who had no luck with women.

It must be depressing as hell to remember his, or your, past life.

Yeah, it kind of is. You know me, I’m a pretty confident guy. Don’t let things get me down. I’ve always done really well with the ladies and of course I’m engaged now. In many ways I’m the opposite of this former self. But interestingly we both played high school baseball and both are Civil War buffs. I’m thinking maybe in another life old Henry and I were Civil War vets or maybe we died in the war. Who knows?

This is an amazing story, Bob. You gonna try to find out other past lives you mighta had?

I would but I’ve no idea where to look. Maybe I’ll look into it. I just picked up a book on reincarnation, maybe that’ll give me a clue where to start.

This Henry Kermit, did he have any sort of success in life? Any happiness?

Like I said he played high school baseball and one game he hit a two-run homer in the last inning with two outs to win his high school a game against their rivals, Taft High. He was hero for the day. May 4, 1917. That was the only other time I could find his picture in the paper. He had this incredibly broad grin on his face. He was quoted in the paper and everything. It might have been the highlight of his life.

You told anyone else this?

Nope. Not even Marcy. I thought I’d run it all by you first before I spring it on anyone else. I’m sure most people will think I’m nuts.

Maybe not that you’re nuts but people are going to have their doubts.

Do you? Do you have doubts?

I need to think about it. Suffice to say that I’m both intrigued and skeptical.

I understand.

You feel bad for this guy? Or should I say you feel bad for your former self?

Terrible. That’s the one bad thing about this, I mean thinking I went through all this — despair enough to off myself.

That sucks.

I suppose I’ll get over it. There was an initial shock. Eventually it’ll be part of my life.

Thanks for sharing this with me.

Thank you for listening and not immediately dismissing it. I feel better for having shared it with someone.

It’s a helluva story, I’ll grant you that.

Too bad I wasn’t more interesting in that life but then I’m enjoying this one so there’s that.

You got plenty of blessings to count my friend.