Great Exudations

My family is reliable for several things. One is novelty gifts at Christmas time. I recently became the proud owner of a pair of NERF basketball hoops (that I openly wanted) and a Bob Ross Christmas tree ornament. The shark glasses were from two years before. The second thing is intermittent reminders that for many years after “Jaws” (1975) was released, I adamantly refused to swim in the ocean. To which I answer, yes, and that’s why I’ve lived to tell about it…

And here are partial lyrics to the song “Walk On” by the masterful John Hiatt:

Someone called out to you
And it sounded just like crying
On a street where nobody
Even knows your name
Your mind was getting high on the sweet air
As your spirit was flying

Steam rising from the sidewalks
Of New Orleans after an evening rain
Steam rising from the sidewalks
After an evening rain

If you haven’t heard the song, buy the album. If you’ve never been to Sylvain, book your rez. But on the same trip in 2018, we also had dinner at a nice little French place called Lilette. We went for a nightcap next door and sat outside, when up walked Jennifer Coolidge. She was joining friends who gave her such a fawning reception that it seemed to me a little over-the-top. I mean, c’mon. While I had enjoyed her turn in “Best in Show” (her “we both love soup” line kills me every time!), I couldn’t recall her other films (my wife also knew her from “American Pie” and “Legally Blonde”). And I distinctly remember thinking that it was a little sad to be an aging actor who hadn’t really crossed the threshold of stardom — although I now think it best to be a steadily working character actor who barely gets recognized in public. But then here comes “White Lotus” in 2021-22, for which she won a Golden Globe plus an Emmy, and suddenly she is everywhere. She’s in every third ad and must be drowning in scripts. No longer just an ensemble cast bridesmaid. Her star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame can’t be long in coming. How wrong I was, and I couldn’t be happier about it. She seems cool as fuck. Girl, you got this…

It’s a rare sighting these days. The pay phone. Even more so the large scale phone booth. And is it strange that my first thought went to hygiene? We used to handle that plastic receiver without a care back in the day, but now? Full HAZMAT. Hand gel. Wipes. Mask and gloves. Blame COVID, I guess. The 50 cent charge doesn’t seem so bad, considering inflation, but who carries coinage? And doesn’t the change return slot seems too small? Maybe they were being used as a drug drop-site. Was that in “The Wire”?? You have to stay one step ahead to keep from falling ten behind in that battle. But is anyone nostalgic for these relics? Cellphones are a vast improvement, to be sure. The only real loss is a cinematic one. So many movie plots hinged on the pay phone scene. “Three Days of the Condor,” “Dirty Harry,” “All the President’s Men,” and of course “Phone Booth” (a death knell). The list would be the size of the phone book…. which used to be attached! Ripping out a page was a terrific film trope. But I guess when they make movies in-retro, ever so in vogue, they still need these props. Unfortunately, they sometimes screw up the sound of the coin mechanism catching. There must be a pay phone/booth warehouse somewhere in Burbank, CA…

“What’s Playing”

Sometimes you must scratch that itch

Skip a class or call in sick

Tweak the dials, flip the switch

Chase high art or candy-kitsch

As if all these things were equal,

The post-modern and Medieval,

That through you run prismatic

Only risking the ecstatic

So step right up and get your fix

A silent film or foreign flick

Of any stripe, yours to pick

Big and broad or minor niche

Be it second run or sequel,

Tragedy or treacle,

From crystal clear to enigmatic

Only risking the ecstatic

“Three shall be the number thou shalt count, and the number of the counting shall be three…” (from “Monty Python and the Holy Grail“). Plus I can’t keep four thoughts in my head at the same time.

#1) Not many people know this but Donald Trump hails/heils from German (father’s side) and Scottish (mother’s) heritage. One of his German uncles, Claus von Trumpf, was a notoriously corrupt art merchant who often peddled stolen and forged works, almost exclusively in the classical representative style. In the 1920’s, when the avant-garde art movements were taking hold on the Continent, von Trumpf was violently opposed. He worked hard to undermine the Bauhaus school in Germany and the De Stijl movement in the Netherlands, as well as the vestiges of Dadaism and its offshoots. His feverish efforts reached their delirious fastigium with a massive negative ad campaign in pamphlet, poster, editorial and stump speeches called “STOP DE STIJL!”

#2) Natalie Imbruglia‘s 1997 hit cover song “Torn” (original by Ednaswap) is a perfectly acceptable pop confection that I would welcome hearing in any mall or Fuddruckers in America. But my memory of her will always be affectionately wed to a novel phrase that I conjured up and rather enjoyed repeating, back in the day. And I challenge you now to say it aloud, ideally in an affected high-born British accent, without making you smile. Here it is:

“Natalie Imbruglia is embroiled in a bitter imbroglio.”

Was I right or was I right??

#3) As you surely have gleaned, I am fond of a good pun. Even more so of a bad. So try this one on for size. Like me, you might enjoy the style of the French torch-song singer Edith Piaf (1915-1963). Songs like “La Vie en rose” (translating to “life in pink” or “life in happy hues”) are so evocative of the WWII and early postwar-era, and they crackle with raw emotion. If you want a fulminant retro-romantic vibe, put her disc on the old gramophone. But here’s the rub. For a little innocent but mischievous fun, refer to her in company as Edith PILAF — purposely confusing her surname with the seasoned rice dish. This triggers an eye-roll from my wife every time, which is exactly the point! People will either think they misheard you or will consider you a rube, which is even better. Better still if they correct you. Bon appetit!