Are You a Racist? I Start Off Writing About Words But Segue to Posing Questions to Trumpy

This is one of those deals where I feel like I should write a blog post but don’t have anything to write about. Should I have written “anything in particular” to write about? What’s the deal with “particular”? You might here someone say that “this particular case is interesting.” What exactly is the word “particularly” doing? I’ll go ahead and answer that: nothing. It’s similar to something else I’ve complained about. Some. Get out of here with that word. At Cal football games we’re asked to “make some noise.” Some? It’s like: I’m going to get some lunch. Some? Or. Do you want some coffee. Some?

I hate extra words. Clutter. Sure, just like everyone else I can be guilty of using them. I’m so imperfect you wouldn’t believe it.

There’s a Trumpyism. “Like you wouldn’t believe.” He uses that and “they’ve never seen anything like it.” He loves adjectives too. Say that reminds me, I have some questions for Trumpy. I’ll put him here and hope that he comes across them.

Tumpy: You recently said the following while speaking at a law-and-order event at the David S. Mack Center for Training and Intelligence in New York: "These young, these gorgeous, beautiful girls... they come, 'Mr. President, may I speak to you? Yes.' 'Thank you, sir. Thank you.' I said, 'Why are you thanking me?' 'Because a year and a half ago, I was afraid to leave—I was afraid to open the door of my apartment. And now I walk to the White House every morning and I have absolutely no fear, thank you sir.'" My question is: who are these women? Do they work in the White House? In what positions? Are all the women who come up to thank you “gorgeous, beautiful girls”? Do any ordinary or even homely girls thank you? Why do they call you “sir” and not “Mr. President”? Is this something you made up? Sure sound like it.

Are you going to continue to call former President Joe Biden, “Sleepy Joe” when you’re constantly seen dozing off in the oval office and at public functions. Isn’t it hypocritical of you?

I understand that you plan to build a 250-foot arch in Washington DC at Memorial Circle. I further understand that the structure would house large numbers of drones, rooftop snipers, and sniper ammunition storage. Is this because you’re expecting foreign armies to invade the nation’s capital? Should we expect invading armies? Or will the weapons be used against peaceful domestic demonstrators? Please tell us exactly why we need to weaponize (literally) the Memorial Plaza.

Why do you directly contradict empirically verifiable facts? You claim that climate change is a hoax when very close to one hundred per cent of climate scientists say that is quite real and the result of human activity. You even go so far as to mock people who understand that it’s real. (Which is most of the rest of the world.) Do you think mocking people is a good strategy?

Speaking of mocking people….Why do you continue to lash out at journalists for the sin of asking you tough questions? Can’t you handle tough questions? What purpose does it serve to call them things like stupid? Indeed what’s the benefit of calling political rivals stupid or “low IQ” people? Does that serve political discourse or does it make you sound like a schoolyard bully?

How are the American people benefiting from your vendettas against people like Jack Smith, James Coney and Letitia James? Instead of desperately trying to pin something on your enemies (of which there are legions) why not use that energy to serve the needs of the American people?

Why do you cozy up to authoritarian leaders like North Korea’s Kim Jung-un while criticizing democratically-elected allies like Canada’s Prime Minister, Mark Carney? Is it because you wish that you had the same sort of power that dictators had? Is it because you both don’t understand and don’t really believe in the U.S. Constitution?

Why does it seem like you never read books, watch movies or TV shows or have a good hearty laugh? You don’t have any pets. You don’t seem especially close to your wife or children. You don’t seem to have normal relationships. Is every relationship transactional to you? You don’t seem like a normal person. Are you? How much damage do you reckon your father did to you?

Why don’t you want the full unexpurgated Epstein Files released? Is it because we’d get a fuller look at your own sex crimes? Is it true that you raped and beat underage girls? Do you have the slightest bit of shame? Are you a total narcissist who has not a scintilla of empathy for other human beings?

Have you taken an honest look at recent polls that show how deeply unpopular you are? Are you too divorced from reality to accept the fact that the vast majority of Americans don’t like either you or your policies? Is reality a foreigner to you? (And we know how you feel about foreigners.)

You’ve personally made billions of dollars while president yet brag about not accepting your salary. Don’t you realize what a bad look that is? Don’t you understand ethics? Why not take your salary but stop personally profiting from being president?

How hard is it for you to hide your dislike of people of color? Ever tempted to come out of the closet as the full-fledged racist that you in reality are?

You don’t really understand tariffs, do you?

Why have you totally failed to fulfill your campaign promises? For example inflation is worse now than it was under Biden. It should have been easy to keep us out of foreign wars but you got the country into a totally senseless one that for awhile you kept saying we’d won and was about to be over. Is it hard to keep your stories straight?

Why do you insist on changing names of things like lakes and gulfs and forms of intelligence? Why do you want to put your own goddamned name on everything you can? How far is this going to go? Will the White House be renamed the Trump House? Will it be Trump D.C.? The United States of Trump? Jesus, I haven’t given you any ideas, have I?

It's Films I've Watched Lately Some of Which I Liked Greatly -- With a Twist

Stromboli

Traditionally the “Films I’ve Watched Lately” Feature consists of capsule reviews of the last seven or eight films I’ve watched. Ever the experimenter, with this edition I’m not going to write specifically about the movies, instead focusing on thoughts that viewing of the films inspired. 

Stromboli (1950 Rossellini. Between 1945 and 1975 Italian cinema produced many of the greatest films of all time. No other country can match it. There have been strong ten, even twenty-year periods but nothing to compare with what came out of Italy for thirty years. They were blessed with directors such as Federico Fellini, Michelangelo Antonioni, Vittorio De Sica and Roberto Rossellini who directed Stromboli (along with Rome: Open City, the Flowers of St. Francis and Voyage to Italy). Stromboli stars Ingrid Bergman in one of her greatest roles. 

The Weight (2926) McKinley. It’s not easy to make thoroughly watchable, entertaining movies like this one. What’s even harder is to make those kinds of film that also offer something else like a compelling lead character whose motivations are understandable, if not always defensible. Showing what people do and making it interesting is hard. Showing what people do and why is even harder. The Weight stars the excellent Ethan Hawke in a perfectly entertaining new film. But his talents aren’t fully utilized in a movie that is all what and little why.

Something Wild (1986) Demme. Some directors boast about not using non-professional actors for some or even all of the roles in a particular film and I’m never impressed. (Why not try using amateurs to do your cinema photography, editing, set designs or to write your screenplay?) Something Wild provides an argument for using professional actors. Ray Liotta shows up about halfway through the film and turns an off beat romance into an entirely different film and one that through sheer force of personality he totally dominates — in the best possible way. As he later demonstrated in Goodfellas, Liotta was a terrific actor and by God movies need them.

Jackie Brown (1997) Tarantino. For me Quentin Tarantino has made four great films, Pulp Fiction, Inglorious Basterds, Once Upon a Time in Hollywood and this one. He calls Jackie Brown a “hang out” movie that gets better with each viewing. That gives me an idea for another future blog post: hangout films. Plot becomes secondary, being with the characters in a particular time and place is the picture’s real reward. Goodfellas is a great example. So is John Ford’s Long Voyage Home. The Last Picture Show, among its other gifts, is a hangout movie. Radio Days, Mean Streets, Red River, Diner, Local Hero, Animal House, Amarcord, The Big Lebowski are all movies where you can hang.

Boogie Nights (1997) P.T. Anderson. Well look here, another hangout movie. You’ve got characters beautifully realized by the likes of Burt Reynolds, William H. Macy. John C. Reilly, Julianne Moore, Heather Graham, Don Cheadle, Alfred Molina and Mark Wahlberg and his amazing prosthetic dick. It’s not a warm and cozy hang given all the indiscriminate sex and the constant threat of violence, but there are a lot of people looking for family and love. Cinema is good at exploring the human desire for companionship. Sometimes sex suffices, other times a group is required, a parental figure, someone to take care of. Even here within the porn industry of the late seventies and eighties in San Fernando Valley, the basic desire is to find a surrogate family.

Shame (1969) Bergman. Speaking of great runs of film-making, how about Ingmar Bergman from 1953 through 1976 (you could start it earlier and end it later and get no argument from me). I count sixteen movies in that period that range from very good to masterpieces. Shame is in the latter category and may be his most underrated. Frequent collaborators Liv Ullman and Max von Sydow co-star and one has to understand that casting was a large part of the great Swedish director’s success. That and getting the most out of his actors. His time spent directing in the theater contributed mightily to his success and style which is typified by the intimacy of his films and the performances. For me Bergman is the greatest director of all time.

A Night at the Opera (1935) Wood. There was early, anarchic Marx Brothers and there was later studio formulaic Marx Brothers. The former included their masterpiece, Duck Soup, along with other great comedies such as Horse Feathers and Monkey Business. The latter was littered with duds such as Go West, At the Circus and The Big Store. Admittedly these later films did feature some of the brothers at their best but the boys were surrounded by sappy love stories and dreary songs which helped dilute the comedy. A Night at the Opera was the bridge between these two eras. There was still a lot of the comic brilliance (see the stateroom scene) that made the Marx Brothers so much fun, but there was also Alan Jones singing and thus grinding the comedy to a screeching halt.

Othello (1951) Welles. The great bard — Shakespeare, William — wrote many of the greatest plays of all time and unsurprisingly this has inspired some fantastic films, Orson Welles’ Othello among them. I suppose one could argue that there should have been by now even more great film based on Shakespeare’s plays. There have been a couple of good Henry V films, two good Hamlets, a Richard III, Othello, a few versions of Romeo and Juliet, three really good versions of Macbeth, two A Midsummer Night Dream and scattered others. There’s a lot but should there be more? Sounds like a future blog post.

Dating Advice From An Unlikely Source (Me) But Check It Out Anyway

Last week I wrote a post on this site (where else?) on the perils of dating. Today I’m providing a follow-up wherein I offer dating tips for those of you single folks (if you’re in a relationship you can still go ahead and read this, but shame on you if you consider utilizing any of my suggestions — go hug your significant other.) 

Am I the right person to be giving men dating advice? Given my dating history you’d think not. Most of the time during my dating years I was high. For all of that time I was something of a cad. What they call a “player” these days. Obviously I’m not proud of it. So who’d want to take advice from me?

I’d argue that I’m uniquely qualified because I know precisely what NOT to do and I’ve spent decades wishing I’d done A rather than B. I’ve also got one helluva lot of life experience (you can’t even begin to imagine how old I am). Anyway, I’m confident that I can help.

I’m writing this from the perspective of the heterosexual male but I’m sure women could utilize this as could gay people. Trans folks maybe too. Here goes.

Don’t ask someone out for the sole purpose of getting laid. That’s just wrong. Of course you find the person attractive and may indulge sexual fantasies about them — that’s natural. But you should also be able to imagine and desire a relationship outside of the bedroom. After all, even in those early days when you’re going after each other like rabbits in heat, you’re spending most of your time together NOT making love. So the first question about a person you’re interested in is: do I want to do more with them than fuck? If the answer is yes, proceed.

Given that you’re interested in more than getting the person in the sack, suggestion two SHOULD go without saying. It’s best if you know a little bit about the person, maybe have a relationship of some sort. You’re in a class together, you go to the same gym, you work in the same field, you live in the same apartment complex. You should have — at the very least — exchanged a “hi, how are you?” or two or better still had a bit of a chat. If not, where did you derive your interest in this person? Any brief encounters you’ve had should have established that you genuinely like the person and you have common ground.

Okay, you find a person attractive. You’ve exchanged pleasantries but you should also feel a connection, an undefinable vibe. If the other person feels the same towards you, you’re suggestion of a date is going to be met with enthusiasm and there’s a good chance you two have a future. I’m speaking of chemistry. A man can think a woman is the most gorgeous creature on earth, she can be single, they may have something tangible in common, but without chemistry, it ain’t going anywhere. You’ll know it if it’s there. If it isn’t you might still want to do things together and ultimately become friends. Sometimes chemistry develops over time, but it shouldn't take too long.

Try to figure out their relationship status. This might require a little detective work but it’s worth it. If they’re living with someone or engaged or been dating someone for awhile, just forget it. Don’t try to break people up. Don’t try to make someone cheat. Of course, you can check back, people do break up.

When you do go out don’t dominate the conversation. Ask questions. Get to know the person. Aim to let them do at least sixty per cent of the talking. They’ll appreciate this and it will help you get a sense of whether future dates are in order.

Don’t try to impress them. Just be straight forward about your past, present and hopes for the future. Don't exaggerate, certainly don’t lie. It’s better to compliment them then to self promote. 

Speaking of compliments, don’t go overboard with them, especially about their appearance. One comment on beautiful eyes can go along way, pouring it on begins to sound like you just want to get laid. Also compliment them on more than looks. People like that. If you can’t think of anything else nice to say them, then what the hell are you doing with this person?

Remember details. If they mention having two younger brothers or that their father died when they were in high school, make sure you store that away. People like that you remember details about them, especially important life events.

Are you boring them? If so, change the subject or ask a question. Don’t ramble on about something that they don’t care about. Read the room. If their eyes have glazed over while you discussed your coin collection maybe move on to the weather.

Be enthusiastic. Seem like an energetic, happy person with particular passions. No one wants to hang out with a dullard. You want to seem like someone who it would be fun to be with (and if you aren't someone fun to hang out with, you need to sort that before you start dating).

Look for clues that you’ve got a future together — or don’t. If you like the same kind of music, especially particular singers or groups, that’s a big plus. If she loves reggae and you hate it…uh oh. If you’re polar opposites politically you can still make it work (people do) but the odds aren’t great. Certain lifestyle differences can work. You like romcoms, they like sci fi, maybe not a big deal. You love baseball, they don’t — maybe not a big deal. But if they like to go hiking on weekends and you prefer a museum, that can be significant. If you want to explore South American beaches but they want to go to European capitals, that’s a biggie. Two people who love rock climbing and two people who like to go to poetry readings have a much better chance than…well, you get the picture. The key is how big the differences are, because there’ll be some. Another key is how many differences. You have different musical tastes but like the same sports, movie genres, food, you're probably good to go.

Look for warning signs: Is the other person damaged? Do they want a relationship or need one? Are they looking to be fixed? Your goal is to find romance, not to be a therapist. Everyone has issues, but are this person’s issues plentiful, serious and on full display? At the same time we all have issues that we're dealing with. If you cross people out because of one challenge they're facing, you'll be alone a lot.

If you’re going to propose a second date be smart about it. If there’s a forthcoming concert they mentioned wanting to go to and you wouldn’t mind taking in…..If an interest was expressed in a new restaurant….If there’s a play opening next week and they're into theater….Be smart about this. Don’t offer to take her to a baseball game if she’s not a fan — unless she expressed an interest in taking in her first game. 

Towards the date’s end assess whether you still like them as much. Maybe the chemistry wasn’t really there. Maybe you’re too different. Maybe it’s clear they don’t like you. You may need to cut your losses.

If, on the other hand, you feel like you’re falling in love (you’re not, not yet, anyway, give it time) don’t let them know that. People get scared off if someone is too effusive or seems needy. A lot of people need to ease into a relationship. Whirlwind affairs are rare.

Here are five things to “be.” You be these, you be fine: 

Be polite. Be honest. Be yourself. Be fun. Be honorable. 

The Perils of Dating -- Glad Those Days are Over

There’s a new woman working at the front desk of my gym. Most people who greet you there say hello or one of its variations such as hi or even good morning. They also wish you a good workout. However on Tuesday this new young lady went so far as to afford me a big smile and ask how I was. I assured her that I was fine and in turn asked after her health. Both comfortable that the other was doing well I proceeded to the locker room. It had been a short but pleasant encounter. But it lingered. 

I found myself wondering how I would have felt in the same situation decades ago when I was young and single. (Of course were I young she might have been more wary of me. It could be that me being an older gent, she feels safe being particularly friendly.) In this same situation when I was twenty-two I’d have been unable to happily go on about my day. No indeed, I would have wondered if her friendliness equated to flirting. Was she signaling her interest? Was I crazy not to chat with her? Should I flirt? If I get more signals should I escalate the situation and ask her out? Am I reading too much into her friendliness? After all she’s the public face of the business, it’s her job to be friendly. Maybe I’d linger to see if she greeted other patrons in a similar manner. Indecision and doubt would be maddening.

There you have one of the perils of youth. The dating world is fraught with such situations. Do I take a shot? If I don’t will I regret it? What’s the worst that can happen? It was deflating but never humiliating to be rejected. Sometimes the issue was finding the right moment. People might always be around. You often tried to tailor your “line” to the situation, to that one thing you knew you had in common. You didn’t want a standard pick up line. Should you be flamboyant or straight forward? Should you utilize flattery or save it? Were you sure she'd be right for you and you for her? Was it just that she was pretty or was there more to your attraction? The worst could be electing not to ask a woman and subsequently regretting it.

For a lot of men liquor makes the whole proposition a lot easier. This was especially true for me as an alcoholic. A drink or two in me could provide just the right amount of courage that I needed. Too many drinks could ruin the whole deal.

Once I was in a library sitting at a table doing research. A lovely young woman sat across from me. We had a brief exchange about one of the books I was using. I thought I detected some interest on her part on more than the book. My work ground to a halt. I replayed our exchange — more than once. I surreptitiously eyed her, noting her beauty and wondering if there were any other way to determine her possible interest in me. I next considered how to approach her. My talent — as today — was as a writer.I had pad and pen before me so decided a clever note was my best bet.

I’ve no memory of what I wrote but I’m sure it was “cute” and clever. I read it over, re-wrote it and was fully satisfied that upon reading my note, which ended with a proposal for a date. I tore the paper from the pad preparatory to passing it to her when some oaf sat next to her. They exchanged a brief kiss. 

Her goddamned boyfriend. 

I’d been literally a couple of seconds from….Not worth thinking about.

For some reason that moment stuck with me and inhibited me in future encounters. Nonetheless I rallied. I persisted. I was met with the same sort of mixed results that all men have.

How about the ultimate success, the woman I married? Funny you should ask. 

I was a reporter and she worked in a campus office I frequented. I noted that she was quite beautiful, several inches taller than me and most certainly “out of my league.” I didn’t even try. No pressure. It was she who practically asked me out one night. I jumped at the opportunity and have been in love ever since that first date. I guess love found me.

By the time we were “a couple” I no longer had to sweat through: should I or shouldn’t I? It was always exciting to get a “yes,” but the “I have a boyfriend” or “I’m flattered but no thank you” or “I’m a lesbian” or “yuck, as if” those stung. What was worse than getting a no was the agonizing over the decision of whether to ask and if so how. Glad those days are long over. 

A postscript. I once asked a woman if she wanted to go for a drink after work. To my delight she said yes. We got to the bar, sat down, ordered drinks and she began the conversation with this: “you know I’m gay don’t you?” I assured her that I was well aware of her sexual preferences. I proceeded to get very drunk.

Who Decides What Good Music Is? -or- The Arrogance of Musical Taste

Studio 54, in New York

Decades ago I was in a packed car on my way to a baseball game. The other passengers and I were all in our twenties. Young and hip, leaning into the counter culture. College students or recent grads. The car radio was on as it would always be back then. A Jackson Five song came on, sung in falsetto. One chap made fun of the singing, others laughed. I said: “ahh yes, making fun of Black singers, the new racism.”

Of course there were howls of protest. No such thing was intended, I was told.

No, I responded, of course not, but it’s part of an on-going theme among young white people of our generation convinced that particular kinds of music are superior and other kinds are subject to mockery. Especially the very different sounds of African American singers. Mockery can draw upon racial stereotypes even when the person doing the mocking has no conscious racial intent.

Again there was insistence that this did not equate to racism. “No, nothing does,” I said sadly. “All you have to do while making fun of people of color is say that it’s all innocent fun and you can get away with anything, including evoking the most demeaning of stereotypes.

There were a lot of issues involved. One of which was that white people of a certain stripe couldn’t accept that something was simply different and not to their taste, they had to mock it. It’s like how so damn many Americans who don’t like soccer have to tell you in detail why they find it boring instead of simply saying they weren’t raised with the game and don’t understand it so it’s not for them. One Yank — and this is just a few years ago — said to me that soccer is a sport for people who don’t like sports. Can you imagine the ignorance and arrogance of such a statement? It was also — I hate to say — representative of a very common American (usually white, male) attitude. 

Sidenote: once in college a friend of a roommate was at our house. He looked through my record albums (ask your parents) then told me: “you have terrible taste in music.” (I don’t remember exactly what albums I had at the time but I’m sure they included The Beatles, The Who, Rod Stewart and Stevie Wonder). What did he imagine my response would be? “By golly, you’re right. I’ll sell these and buy some new ones. Please tell me what music to like.” It was a strangely rude comment and purposeless, betraying the white boy arrogance of the time (what do I mean “of the time”? It still exists!).  In mock seriousness I told him that I was sorry that my albums weren’t good enough and begged his forgiveness. Then I put one of them on the turntable (ask your parents).

It’s a weird thing about musical tastes. I recall being at our principal’s house for a large gathering of some sort back in my middle school teaching days. Someone was talking to the assemblage so the rest of us were dutifully quiet. A colleague and I were sitting near the boss’s records. He pointed to them and frowned, even pulling a few out and shaking his head disagreeably. I didn’t recognize the artists so could only assume his message was that this was inferior music. I shrugged. To me this brief interaction indicated that he was of the sort who classed popular music into categories such as: classic, good and beneath contempt. As opposed to: this is to my taste, this isn’t.

I don’t get it. Who set the standard for what is “good” music and what isn’t? What happens if we don’t subscribe to it? I had people look at me askance because, for a time, I mostly listened to jazz. I could never understand why people care what music someone else listens to.

I’m a regular listener of a podcast that’s about my favorite English football (that’s soccer to you Yanks) team. I very much enjoy the host who is wise, witty and insightful. But on occasion he’ll make known his contempt for the musician Phil Collins. I can never understand why. Okay, you don’t like the guy’s music, why the hell should the rest of us care? How do people who like Collins feel when you speak contemptuously of him? Were it a right wing politician you were lambasting I’d say: go for it. But this serves no purpose. I don’t get it. People treat musicians they don’t like as if they’re war criminals. Bizarre.

Before wrapping this up I’ll return to my original point with this observation: I’m not the first to point out that the hatred (and it was hatred) that emerged in the Seventies towards disco was beyond strange. There is good scholarship and contemporary commentary arguing that portions of the disco backlash were entangled with racism and homophobia, particularly because disco culture was strongly associated with Black, Latino and gay communities. 

Full disclosure: I loved disco. Going to a club and dancing to music that was — imagine the concept — perfectly suited to dancing, was one helluva lot of fun.

A successful white artist of the time named Bob Seger had a popular song which included the following lyrics: 

I like that old time rock 'n' roll

Don't try to take me to a disco

You'll never even get me out on the floor

Guess what, Bob, no one wants your grouchy old white ass on this floor.

Imagine having to express your disdain for a highly popular and totally harmless musical form in a damn song. Imagine that so many people liked it.

Was it racist? Not liking the same music that our African American brothers and sisters is not racist, it’s a matter of different tastes from different cultures. Ridiculing it? Looking down your nose at people who like it? When the thing you're ridiculing is a sound, voice or style closely identified with people unlike yourself, are you quite sure you're only making fun of the music?

Postscript: As I was writing this post I was listening to The Isley Brothers. I can picture some of the people I've known in my life who would make a snide comment about them. Their loss.