The humungously uninteresting saga of Tiger Woods’ infidelities

The press has been full in recent days of the Tiger Woods saga. I have followed this with a combination of astonishment and disgust and touched on it yesterday’s Post.

Astonishment? Not at Woods’ extramarital adventures. Frankly, I am astonished that anyone could possibly be astonished to learn of his frailties.

I must have been about 13 when I took an interest in John F Kennedy, mostly because of his assassination. As a young teenager I read and listened to the news over the coming months and gradually realised that this great American hero and hope for the future was a serial philanderer. And as I grew up I realised that this is the kind of behaviour that rich and powerful men in particular get up to.

I soon realised that some men simply give in to their sexual drives; integrity, promises and faithfulness just go out of the window. Once again – just like the British MPs who filched public funds by the £1,000s -  BECAUSE they can do it (for a while) they DID do it.

This is regrettable for stable marriages and the happy upbringing of children, but it is a fact. And so Woods’ antics were

Paul Newman

not the slightest bit surprising. In fact, what IS surprising is to hear of famous people who have NOT given in to basic urges, the most famous recent example being the much-loved and missed Paul Newman.

No, what astonished and disgusted me was the press interest in Woods’ philanderings. Of course, the media only publicize what they think people want to hear or read about, and this in order to sell more copies and rack up more advertising revenue. And as the media are not stupid, it clearly IS true that many people ARE interested in the sexual antics of famous people.

But what does this tell us about the seriousness of the human race? All this fuss over one more weak, unfaithful and ultimately boring husband when on the same day hundreds of thousands died of treatable disease, when goodness knows how many more tons of ice melted, how many more tons of CO2 were released into the air, how many more victims of the hellish North Korean regime there were?

He’s a famous golfer? Oh dear ….  someone good at putting a ball into a hole? This is supposed to be IMPORTANT?

Sadly, the whole episode is just another example of the fatuous obsession with celebrities, as if they are somehow more interesting or important than anyone else. No, my local postman is far more interesting than Tiger Woods, and I don’t think he cheats on his wife either.

And as for comment about the business wisdom of Woods not talking to the press? Oh dear again – one weeps. Why should anyone CARE whether he talks to the press or loses sponsors? Who GIVES a damn? Well, apparently, millions. And this is fairly depressing when there is so much else to worry about. And if big name sponsors of the once “Mr Clean” of world sport are now looking rather foolish, well I for one won’t shed any tears. They peddle fantasy, shallowness and envy; it’s time we had a reassessment of priorities and bit more common-sense and realism.

Please Mr Murdoch et al; give us a break from Tiger Woods; he is just nanoscopically irrelevant in the grand scheme of things and what on earth has his private life got to do with his golf anyway? But I expect we will have to suffer months of reading about the vast settlement his wife will get as his divorce is dragged through the courts and the media. Oh dear, I need a drink ……

Despairing of Kempten in the Allgau

By Chris Snuggs

Bernie Madoff's mug shot.

My eight year-old son has been fascinated with Bernie Madoff lately. It wasn’t just our recent conversation, about how a local Jewish education and outreach organization (whose Hanukkah party we attended this week) was adversely affected by the loss of a grant that relied on so-called Madoff money, that got him interested in this Ponzi scheme perp. My son has been asking questions about Madoff ever since he started showing up in the headlines. I am sure that this intense interest partially stems from the fact that this notorious Jewish white collar criminal happens to share his given name with my son’s Zaida. It is probably because of this, that my son keeps insisting that Madoff is not actually in prison, but rather only under house arrest, wearing one of those electronic ankle bracelets. My son knows what Madoff did, but he is having a hard time reconciling that a guy of the same age and with the same name as his grandfather could have ruined so many people’s lives.

Some parents might want to divert their children’s attention to examples of more upstanding individuals, to role models they should emulate. They would run to the library or get right on to Amazon.com looking for books on Jewish heroes, of which there are plenty. You can take your pick of books, board games, card games, and even bingo sets about heroic biblical characters, heroic Jews, heroic Jewish Americans, heroic Jewish women, heroic Israelis and, of course, Jewish sports heroes.

But not me. I perceive in my son’s Madoff fixation what we in the education biz refer to as a “teachable moment.” We all know that often when we tell our kids what to do, they do the exact opposite. Often times it is actually easier to aspire to not to be something, than to hope to be something that is unattainable. We can’t all be Sandy Koufax, Moshe Rabbeinu, or Henrietta Szold, but we can all aspire to not end up in an 8 ft. x 8ft. cell (My husband, who writes about the law and legal news for a living, happens to have written a piece on the specifics of Madoff’s prison accommodations – just in case people are contemplating a weekend a Bernie’s. Click here to read it.).

Paul Newman specialized in playing anti-hero roles.

I have yet to see a kids’ book on Jewish villains, and I think it is high time that one be written and published. I am not talking about those fashionable anti-heros, so prevalent in modern and contemporary film and literature. I am not referring to Paul Newman’s (Yes, I know, I refer to Newman a lot. I guess I have a thing for him.) characters in Cool Hand Luke and The Hustler or Holden Caulfield in J.D. Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye (I know these characters aren’t Jewish, but you get the point). I am talking about real bad guys.

I have not come up with this idea out of my own perverse logic. In fact, there is a Jewish tradition – nay, commandment – that makes us responsible for rebuking our fellow humans for their bad behavior and transgressions. The concept of tochecha, or rebuke, is derived from Leviticus 19:17: “Do not hate your brother in your heart, you shall surely rebuke your neighbor, an incur no sin because of this person.” The Midrash (Bereshit Raba 54:3) says, Rabbi Yosi ben Chanina said, ‘A love without reproof is no love.’ Reish Lakish said, ‘Reproof leads to peace; a peace where there has been no reproof is no peace.” No one is talking about the need to point out little faults of friends, colleague and family members. We need to live with one another’s idiosyncratic or annoying habits, little foibles and minor transgressions. What we are exhorted to do is to stop people from doing things that are harmful to themselves, us, and the community. We should never let anyone get away with murder…or stealing billions of dollars from trusting investors.

It is never easy for Jews, who write books and create organizations celebrating the famous among us and their accomplishments, to describe a member of the tribe, especially a well-known one, as a “villain.”  Leah Berkenwald, in a post on Roman Polanski for the Jewish Women’s Archive blog, posits that putting the “anti-” in front of “hero” does not cut it when someone commits a real evil:

“The Jewish anti-hero idea is both brilliant and terrifying…So how should we, as a community, react when one of our own does something embarassing, shameful, or heinous?  Do we dub them anti-heroes and call it a day? Or is it time to take a stand and disown these big-shots like we would any non-famous evil Jew?

What would your favorite Jewish hero, or anti-hero, have to do in order for you to think of them as a villain? What would your Jewish neighbors have to do before you condemned them? What about your non-Jewish neighbors?”

The Ba'al Shem Tov, founder of Hassidism

Who among us has not heard our Yiddishe Mamme warn us against doing something so that we “don’t turn out like so-and-so?” Although she may be intimating in a not-too-subtle way that her own offspring are better than someone else’s, she is more fundamentally teaching them what the Ba’al Shem Tov (Seder ha-Dorot ha-Chadash, p. 59) said was at the heart of tochecha:

“… if you see another person doing something ugly, meditate on the presence of that same ugliness in ourselves. And know that it is one of God’s mercies that God brought this sight before your eyes in order to remind you of that fault in you, so as to bring you back in repentance…For if you saw someone desecrating Shabbat, or desecrating God’s name some other way, you should examine your own deeds and you will certainly find among them desecration of the Shabbat and cursing God’s name. Or if you heard some profanity or obscene language, you should consider your own impudence, and when you failed to conduct yourself modestly…”

I’m going to be waiting expectantly until the first compendium of Jewish villains (real ones, not the comic book kind) comes out, and I will be the first in line to buy it. In the meantime, I am going to continue to answer my son’s questions about Bernie Madoff and make the most of this teachable moment that this villainous Jew has afforded me, which is probably the only thing anyone is grateful to him for.

© 2009 Renee Ghert-Zand. All rights reserved.

The best primer on the troubles in the Middle East is the book O’Jerusalem. It starts from before Israeli Independence and gives a hard non-bias look at why Jews and Arabs are at each other’s throat by covering the history – and personal stories of those involved – of the conflict surrounding the Israeli State. I – and probably any historian worthy of the title – recommend this book as one of your first reads if interested in the subject matter.

So imagine my surprise, when I got the movie O’Jerusalem  through netflix and 1/4 of the way through was wishing I’d made a different pick. This is one of the worse movies I’ve seen this year. The cast is a good cast. It is the script which sucks and the directing which is bad. I am not even sure if the makers of this movie read the book and they certainly know nothing of how this war was fought, or what the scenery should’ve looked like from that time, or how people react in those kind of circumstances. SKIP THIS MOVIE!!!

I questioned how a very long book like this one could be turned into a movie not even 2 hrs long. Now I know. Just ignore the book. This movie will add absolutely nothing to your knowledge of the Middle East but only play to any stereotypes you might have.

There are a lot of good Israeli films coming out the last few years about modern Israel and even a couple worth the view Arab films. If you’re interested in films about the 1948 period I would recommend the true story of the American who became Israel’s General as presented in Cast A Giant Shadow starring Kirk Douglas and Exodus with Paul Newman.

The Towering Inferno is a 1974 disaster film produced by Irwin Allen featuring an all-star cast led by Steve McQueen and Paul Newman. The film was adapted by Stirling Silliphant from the novels The Tower by Richard Martin Stern and The Glass Inferno by Thomas N. Scortia and Frank M. Robinson, and was directed by John Guillermin, with Allen himself directing the action sequences.

Trivia:

• Many bit players from The Poseidon Adventure (1972) also appear in this film
• Based on two novels: “The Tower” by Richard Martin Stern, and “The Glass Inferno” by Thomas N. Scortia and Frank M. Robinson. After the success of The Poseidon Adventure (1972), disaster was hot property and Warner Brothers bought the rights to film “The Tower” for $390,000. Eight weeks later Irwin Allen (of 20th Century Fox) discovered “The Glass Inferno” and bought the rights for $400,000. To avoid two similar films competing at the box office the two studios joined forces and pooled their resources, each paying half the production costs. In return, 20th Century Fox got the US box office receipts and Warners the receipts from the rest of the world.
• Scriptwriter Stirling Silliphant combined the two novels to create one screenplay. The combined three words that make up the titles of the two novels were combined to give the name of the film, and the name of the building that is on fire (The Glass Tower).
• Screenwriter Stirling Silliphant took seven main figures from each novel and incorporated them into the screenplay, as well as the major climax of each novel: the lifeline rescue to an adjacent rooftop from “The Tower”, and the exploding water tanks from “The Glass Inferno”.
• At Steve McQueen’s insistence, he and co-star Paul Newman had to have exactly the same number of lines of dialogue in the script
• Irwin Allen originally wanted Steve McQueen to play the part of building architect Doug Roberts. McQueen however, fought for and got the role of fire chief O’Halloran. The role of Doug Roberts went to Paul Newman.
• Paul Newman and Steve McQueen were both paid the same: $1 million and 7.5% of box office each.
• Paul Newman’s and Steve McQueen’s names are staggered in the opening credits, closing credits, and on the posters so that, depending on which way you read it (top to bottom or left to right), both appear to get top billing. This is known as “diagonal billing”, This strategy was being worked on when Newman and McQueen almost co-starred together in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969), but McQueen eventually dropped out of the project and was replaced by the lesser known Robert Redford.
• Steve McQueen and Faye Dunaway left strict instructions that they should not be approached by visitors to the set. McQueen also refused to give any interviews. Paul Newman asked only that he not be “surprised”.
• This film marked the first ever joint production by two big-name movie companies; Warner Bros. and 20th Century Fox.
• Principal photography was completed on Sept. 11th 1974.
• An instrumental version of the song “The Morning After” from The Poseidon Adventure (1972) can be heard in the background in certain scenes.
• Desperate to capture a truly surprised reaction from the cast, Irwin Allen actually fired a handgun into the ceiling without warning the actors, who were understandably “surprised”. The trick worked and he got his shot.
• In an interview given years after the film was released, writer Stirling Silliphant said that he always sat under a sprinkler system head when visiting a building. He said he did that because he learned it from a fireman he interviewed while researching this project.
• Both novels were inspired by the construction of the World Trade Center in the early-1970s, and what could happen in fire in a skyscraper. In Richard Martin Stern’s novel, “The Tower”, the fictional 140-floor building was set next to the north tower of the World Trade Center. The climax of the novel was centered around a rescue mounted from the north tower of the World Trade Center.
• The role of Lisolette Mueller (as played by Jennifer Jones) was originally offered to Olivia de Havilland.
• Jennifer Jones’s final film to date (2008).
• Steve McQueen did most of his stunts for the film, including having 7,000 gallons of water dumped on him in the climactic final attempt to put out the fire.
• During filming an actual fire broke out on one of the sets and Steve McQueen found himself briefly helping real firemen put it out. One of the firemen, not recognizing McQueen, said to the actor, “My wife is not going to believe this.” To this McQueen replied, “Neither is mine.”
• The fancy “blinkenlights” computer which runs the Glass Tower is, in fact, composed of parts leftover from an obsolete Air Force system which, in the 1960s and ’70s, protected the US from Soviet bomber attack. The computer was named AN/FSQ-7, and about a dozen of them were installed around the US. Based on vacuum tube technology, the ‘Q-7 in action took up the whole first floor of a “bomb-proof” concrete blockhouse, and generated as much raw heat as five single-family houses. The whole system became obsolete when missiles replaced manned bombers as the main threat. In the film, only the main control and maintenance consoles are used. As an ironic afterthought, the only reliable source today of vacuum tubes is the former Soviet Union.
• Paul Newman did most of his own stunts, including climbing up and down the bent stairwell railing.
• Of the 57 sets built for the production, only eight remained standing when filming ended.
• The building used in the film was a series of miniatures and matte paintings. Only sections of the building were actually constructed for the actors and stunt people to perform their scenes. Exterior shots of the building were of San Francisco’s Hyatt Rejency with an additional 50 stories of matte paintings added.
• In the original script the role of the fire chief (known at the time as Mario Infantino) was considerably smaller. According to director John Guillermin, the role was offered to Ernest Borgnine with Steve McQueen playing the architect. McQueen later said, “If somebody of my caliber can play the architect, I’ll play the fire chief,” and Paul Newman was brought onto the project as the architect.
• According to Esther Williams in her memoirs, she was personally contacted by Irwin Allen and offered roles in both this film and The Poseidon Adventure (1972), but declined both.
• Irwin Allen directed all the action sequences in the film, including the climactic final explosions to put the fire out.
• The HH-1N helicopters are in the original paint scheme used by NAS Lemoore’s Search and Rescue Flight. Later on, they were painted Red and White. Up until the unit’s disbandment in 2004, the Flight was still pointing out it was their helicopters used in the movie.
• For years, during the 80’s and 90’s, this is the movie Swedish TV used to show on New Years Eve, just after midnight.
• The scenic elevator is actually one of two in the Hyatt Regency Hotel in San Francisco. This elevator was used in numerous movies including Time After Time (1979).
• At first Irwin Allen did not want to use music at the first 5 minutes of the Helicopter Sequence. John Williams told Allen that he could come up with 5 minutes of music for the beginning. When Allen heard it, he agreed with Williams.
• The large sculpture that is part of the bar design in the Promenade Room was originally used in the Harmonia Gardens set in Hello, Dolly! (1969).
• The First Interstate Tower in downtown Los Angeles was completed the same year this film was released (1974). 14 years later, in May of 1988, the FI Tower experienced a real-life fire which burned out 4 1/2 floors , ruined many floors above with smoke and floors below with water, and closed the building for almost five months. The fire happened late at night, when only a few dozen people were in the building, and no crowds, traffic or other demands on water hampered firefighters. Only one death occurred, when someone used an over-ride key to force an elevator to the floor where the fire had started, and perished much as was shown happening to elevator riders in the film. The Los Angeles Herald ran side-by-side photos of the actual fire and the fire from The Towering Inferno on its front page the following day. The story of the real fire was told in the TV film Fire: Trapped on the 37th Floor (1991) (TV).
• The upper 15 floors of The Glass Tower was built as a facade in the dirt parking lot of the 20th Century Fox Ranch in Malibu, California, including drapes for all the windows and an explosion hole at the outside elevator track. It remained standing in the same location for many years, even after the state of California bought the land and opened the ranch to the public.
• Natalie Wood turned down a leading role, citing the script as “mediocre”

So, I’ve decided to rename my junk

Yes you read that right, rename- as in my dick and balls already have a name. Yes, they do. Here is the story.

My senior year of high school the marching band and I went down to Florida. But before that, in Physics, Conner Randal (I don’t remember his real name so, let’s just call him that) and I were talking about the trip.  Jeff was not going, because he is “too cool” for band, but in reality, he was waaay too cool for band, and also not talented at music whatsoever. Anyway, since I was going to a state with a high Latin American population, we got onto the subject of hot Latinas.

Jeff said, “Latinas are almost always hot. You should try to score with one while you’re down there.”

“Yea!” I exclaimed, “I bet there will be tons working at the hotel.”

That was basically the end of the conversation, but my mind kept going. I couldn’t stop thinking about how awesome it would be if I could nail a hot Cuban day laborer while I was down there. what insued was a fantasy that I am going to share with you now. Brace yourselves.

"Yo quiero ser tu mujer," the sexy latina whispered into my ear.

My friends leave the hotel room without me, either because they are dicks, or I secretly know what’s going to happen so I leave after them because I don’t want them cock-blocking me. Either way, I am walking down the corridor alone and dripping with sexual energy. Or maybe sweat, I cannot tell because of how horny I am. As I head toward the elevator, I see an incredibly sexy maid drop her feather duster. Ignoring the fact that this hotel is the only facility left on the planet that still employs the “feather duster method,” I pick it up and hand it to her. our eyes meet. We stare, only for a moment or two, but we stare all the same. She looks just like what you would expect a woman who is some kind of Spanish would look like, but 500 times hotter. Why she is working as a maid and not a model, you ask? Because that would not be consistent with the story, now would it?

“Oh, muchas gracias senior,” she said as she took the feather duster with my hand, and tickled my epic pecs with the feathers.

“Don’t mention it,” I said smoothly, while lighting a cigarette.

What I look like when I light up.

She then said, “Oy Papi, I am so hungry, do you have anything to eat.”

I gave her a little smile and said, “Well you can have a taste of El Churro Gigantico.”

At that moment, my mind came to a screeching halt. El Churro Gigantico. That was all I could think about. That name- for my dick. Can you say Hells to the yea?!?! From there, keeping with the ethnic foods theme, I named my left ball “Matzo,” and my right, “Swedish Meat.”

But that was four years ago. I have grown as a person since then (Or at least for purposes of this blog I have,) I don’t hang out with anyone that I did from highschool, and I feel I should name my junk something that  reflects who I am now. I have compiled a list of names for my dick, along with the reason I am conseidering it, the pros of the name, and the cons of the name. Here they are:

1. Pheonix

Name for balls: ?

Reason: Because just as a phoenix dies and is then reborn, a boner will go flaccid and then become hard again.

Pros: The phoenix is a fucking awesome creature, plus they’re mythical, so people could come to believe that my dick is that of legends.

Cons: Phoenix is also the name of a mutant in the X-men series who generally tends to fuck shit right up. No that might not sound so bad, but in the movie, she also killed people, and I don’t want my dick to be associated with murder- or do I? And, it could also lead people to believe that I am a fire crotch. I would rather people believe that my shindig is dangerous than believe that it is covered in red hair [gag.]

2. President Taft

Name for balls: members of his cabinet- Richard Ballinger, and Jacob Dickinson. I swear I did not make those up.

Reason: because my dick is always getting stuck in things

Pros:  Taft will finally be remembered for something other than the bathtub incident

Cons: Taft was a racist by today’s standards. And my dick does not see color, mainly because it has no eyes.

3. Tommy Lee

AKA walking bag of STDs

Name for balls: Motley and Crue, or just refer to them as his Motley Crue

Reason: I think this one is self explanatory

Pros: this could insinuate that the real Tommy Lee is a dick, or that my dick is huge

Cons: my dick will contract Hepatitis from being named that

4. The Fountain of Youth

Name for the balls: ?

Reason: because what woman doesn’t want to look young forever

Pros: I could get cougars with a name like this

Cons: I could also get hags and women with a piss fetish. Also, I could get sued for false advertizing

5. Tommy Gun

Name for balls: loaded magazines 1 &2

Reason: because my dick can shoot projectiles that could have the potential of being named Tommy one day.

Pros: This could insinuate that I am a prohibition era gangster

Cons: There are dozens of more awesome guns out there these days. A Tommy gun is very, very outdated. Most of them probably don’t even work anymore. Can you see where I am going with this?

So those are my ideas so far, but I still need more. This is where you, my readers come in. If you have any ideas for what I should name my junk, then I want you to put the idea in the comments below. You can  post a comment even if you don’t have a WordPress account; just leave your email (no one sees it. It is to notify you when I reply to it.)

My one rule is that the name you come up with  must follow is the “How to lose a guy in 10 days rule.” IE, no cutesy, girly crap, it has to be masculine, and incredibly awesome. Also, if you have suggestions for my balls for #s 1 and 4, they would be greatly  appreciated.

Oh, and Misty (I know you’re reading this), your comment on my last blog gave me the idea for this one, so thanks.

Peace

Oh, and if you were wondering if i got laid on the Florida trip by a sexy maid, i did not, but I did get hit on by a bunch of girls from Spain. So that was pretty cool.

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One of the fun things about teaching a class in journalism is making time to watch a good movie about the craft.

In “His Girl Friday,” the joy is in the quick dialogue. With “The Paper,” I smile when they yell “Stop the presses!” And no reporter can resist “All the President’s Men” and the idea of meeting a source in a dark parking garage for key info for one of the biggest stories of our time. These are all pretty good entertainment.

But one of my favorites — and I love all films about reporters, no matter how cheesy — is “Absence of Malice,” the 1981 flick starring Sally Field and Paul Newman.

When you’ve worked as a reporter, you notice common mistakes in journalism movies. Often times, the reporter is a hero who never seems to take notes, and only files stories every once in awhile. Sometimes they live in big fancy houses and drive expensive cars, but no reporter I know does this.

The beauty of “Malice” is that Fields, the reporter, actually writes stories. She worries about each line. She’s a little nervous and uncertain, despite her to-the-point interview style. She questions herself constantly. She lives in a nice but modest apartment, which is more in line with the lives of many reporters.

And she makes mistakes. Big ones. She gets too close to Newman, one of her sources, and makes other several questionable calls along the way.

The good thing — and most reporters want to do things right — is that she admits her mistakes and tries to make things better.

The story, to me, is one of the most nuanced looks at the challenges a reporter faces.

Decades later, it’s still worth a watch for anyone looking to write news for a living.

Many actors come and go without leaving a huge impression on the world, either with their acting abilities or their humanitarian achievements — even their ones that I consider a negative cause.  Offhand the people I have noted who have either left an impression (negative or positive) or have made one to date are Paul Newman, Angelina Jolie, Audrey Hepburn, Charlton Heston, Paul Robeson, and Robert Redford.

Who can argue either Paul Newman’s altruistic contributions or his cinematic ones.  He was an absolutely amazing actor.  Even his films such as Cool Hand Luke, the Sundance Kid and, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof he plays the underdog.

As an entrepreneur finding Newman’s Own (culinary goods) he and his daughter have given millions of dollars to charity from their proceeds.  He started a camp for needy children.  He also was a political activist.

Audrey Hepburn and Angelina Jolie have been ambassadors to Unicef to help needy children in the third world.  Hepburn is without a doubt a much better actor.  Jolie has also proved her resolve to help the world by adopting children from various third world countries.

Charlton Heston was the type of actor who lit up the scene.  He had an enormous stage presence and, he was an excellent actor.  For me his politics were horrible.  He was a huge advocate of the National Rifle Association or, the NRA.  He was the president of the NRA for a long time.  He felt it was every American’s right to own weapons.  I find this repulsive.  If one looks at guns and gun use, their is death and destruction is close by.  My mother finds it hard to separate one’s politics from one’s performance.  I believe otherwise.  I think you can admire art, performing art and push aside that artists performance.  An great artist can make you believe anything and force you to disregard their own persona.

Paul Robeson was a brilliant, actor, singer and person.  He belonged to the Communist Party.  He was an extreme leftist.  Even though he was the Godfather to my sister Paula and great friends with my father, I believe he was blind to what the Soviet Union was really about.  I believe, however, he was reacting to a horrible time in American history with passion and concern.

Robert Redford not only founded the Sundance Film Festival for Indy films, but he founded the Sundance Catalog.  He has brought his part of Utah great recognition and growth.

[source]

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[source of my love for the god-like creature above]

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I’ve always been intrigued by side profiles. Perhaps the fascination derives from the fact that I barely recognize my own side view. Maybe Audrey will trade me. Aren’t these people beautiful?

Peace,

Title: “You’ll Never Be a Man”-Elvis Costello

By Gert Thaler

SAN DIEGO–As time goes by.

Tick tock.  Tick tock.   Not just minutes, days.  Years.  And more years.

I have recovered nicely from a pneumonia bout which necessitated having full time semi-nursing household support and I was lucky enough to be blessed with a delightful 23 year old who cared for my every whim.  The closeness allowed us to become more than patient/caretaker, employer/employee.  Warm friendship seems a better expression.

We talk.  She cooks. I eat.  Born in New Delhi, India but educated in California, the daughter of a now retired New Delhi Policeman, she has matriculated and almost finished nursing school.  We compare our cultures since I know very little of her people and their beliefs, their foods, their family lifestyle.

In comparison, she has never known a Jewish woman.

So we do not lack for conversation.

I spend a good deal of my recuperating snuggled into a large easy chair with my time divided between reading my favorite author, Daniel Silva, through my Kindle, plus newspapers and magazines and crossing my bedroom to my computer which has just been moved for easier access,  plus a lot of time watching movies.

I have a tendency to favor older movies.  And thus, today’s story.

Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner starring Katherine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy and, more importantly, Sidney Poitier, was the featured movie and a film I have watched several times.

My friend was serving me a cold drink as the picture opened and I casually asked her if she had seen the movie lately.

“Lately?” she answered. “I’ve never heard of it.”

“Do you know who those three actors are on the screen?”

“No”.

“No!! Not even one of them?”

I restarted the conversation by explaining that this movie was an ice breaker for the theme of a love affair between a black man and a white woman, the black actor being a star and retaining that status for a long period of years and a man who commands great admiration.

Sitting down to join me she watched in fascination as the story unfolded until its ending.

I asked her what would happen if she should bring home someone other than a man of her own culture and she said it would be unacceptable.  No discussion.

We talked about acceptance in a Jewish home and inter-religious dating and marriage.  A Pandora’s box was opened.

We continued talking about the movie and its theme all of which filled the air with questions about who Hepburn and Tracy were and a review of their past work.

A couple of days later, I was feeling better so my friend Doreen Casuto took me out for a movie and dinner at which her 21 year old son, Simon, joined us.   I asked if he had seen Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner and in return I got a blank look.  Only Spencer Tracy was no stranger to him, until I mentioned that Poitier was also the star of the “Mr. Tibbs” movies. He vaguely recalled the character.

I looked in my mirror.  Has so much time gone by that such screen gems are like clouds floating out in space?  Am I and others of my generation the only ones left as fans of the era of Gigi; Stella Dallas;  Mr. Deeds Goes to Town;  Auntie Mame;  and Bus Stop?

Most major stars of those movies have gone to movie star heaven. Maurice Chevalier, Barbara Stanwyck, Gary Cooper, Rosalind Russell, Clark Gable.  Marilyn Monroe, too, except that with continuous publicity today’s youngsters are aware of her image.

There’s some wonderful, well produced and well acted work on our screens today.  But yesterday’s features gave most everybody great pleasure.  I know it will be hard for any 20 something person to believe but when I was 21 years old it cost 35 cents to see a movie, we brought our own candy bars, and popcorn had yet to make an appearance.

Last week’s night out cost $10.50 for a movie.  I don’t eat popcorn but if I had it would have been an additional $4.00 plus more than $2 for a drink.  The refreshment counter line is almost as long as the one at the  box office.

My heart does flip flops when I read of the millions raked in at the box office these days for movies starring total strangers to me.

Maybe that is supposed to be the way things go.

Yesterday’s stars no longer light up the sky and the twinkle is left in the hands of newcomers, so if a 21-year-old asks me if I can name three of today’s hottest box office draws I may very well fail their test.  Will I have missed much?

I doubt it.  Other than Meryl Streep and a couple of others, there will never be another Hepburn, Stanwyck or Russell.  For sure gone are the guys like Tracy, Brando and Cooper.  And those who never got to know them on screen are for sure the losers.

Furthermore, please don’t get me started on Paul Newman or Steve McQueen.

*
Thaler is a longtime columnist of San Diego’s Jewish community.

What Is It?

Pixar’s latest attempt to give inanimate objects a voice starts in the world of NASCAR, and moves on to Route 66. With a set up not unlike Michael J. Fox’s “Doc Hollywood,” race car Lightning McQueen (Owen Wilson) has just been in a 3 way tie at the end of the Piston Cup. A second race has been scheduled in California, but on the way, Lightning has an accident. After destroying a road, he is sentenced to stay in a backward town, off Route 66, until he can repair his damage. As the week goes by, while he could be schmoozing big wigs in Cali and getting a better sponsor, instead he is trapped in “hillbilly hell” (his words) wondering if he will even make it in time for the race.

How Was It?

CG Giant Pixar, started the full length computer animated fad in 1996 with inventive Toy Story. After that they have put out 2 good films and 2 great films. With that kind of track record, I was very excited to see film number seven. This is the first move Pixar has done since being bought by former partner Disney, and I’m here to say the new parent company has not ruined them yet!

(But we have yet to see Toy Story 3).

This movie makes all the other cheesy CG garbage that we have been getting lately look even cheesier. The performances are fun with a lot of cameos. (I’m not a car guy, so it wasn’t until I checked out IMDB.com that I realized all the car guys in it. Just know if the car has a name that a sound like a celebrity, the voice is that celebrity, including the red number 8 car named Jr.)

I think kids are going to love it, and like “The Incredibles“, it wow’s you with a story instead of needing to blow stuff up or edit a billion times a minute to keep kids attention. There is still action, but it punctuates instead of becoming the visual white noise. The plot is not too obvious and things come out the you may not have been expecting. Still my favorite parts were things like the tires and the blimp over the stadium (Light Year) and the major sponsor being Dinoco (the gas station chain that shows up in the Toy Story films.) There is also a fantastic “in the credits” bit with John Ratzenberger , who has been in all seven Pixar films.

I liked it, though found it odd that one of the main themes was how we are supposed to enjoy the beauty and grandeur of nature, while all the visuals we have of such things are made on a computer.

Is It Good For Kids?

I think kids will be able to follow the story well and enjoy what they see. I think the construction of the film is great for kids. There are also some good morals to learn here. There are a couple of mildly bad words, but then there was also the Lord’s name as a cuss word (maybe twice). The other odd thing was the amount of “body” jokes. One car checks out another’s “rear end” and it is implied repeatedly that when they see the underside of a car they are seeing something equivalent to a person without there pants. It is even shot so that the audience knows where they are looking but can’t see it themselves. There is nothing here to insight lust (because it’s still just cars) but possibly a bad attitude toward those issues.

You can check out screenit.com for a break down of what is on the screen, but they don’t seem to pick up as much of the “naughty parts on a car” that were in the film.

What about Spiritual Issues?

On one hand, there was a lot of good here. The idea that we should respect our elders (Proverbs 16:31) is something kids (and a lot of adults) need to hear today and are often told the opposite. The idea of learning from the past, and that simple things can be wonderful if you stop and look, are great things to have in your head. There is also a short message about slowing down and noticing the splendor of the natural world and wanting to be in a place where society has not just bulldozed it. Finally, it’s great to not just have the standard “racism” message, but the idea that you shouldn’t be elitist about your friends, but be willing to associate with people who you may consider lower than you. ( Romans 12:16 )

On the other hand, Despite what some may infer (like Dr. J.D.) I do not think salvation will be achieved by society returning to the 1950’s.

So, to the extent this is just extolling the virtues of friends and relationships, it’s a good thing. To the extent it’s telling us that the answer to life is friends and the 50’s, it’s an existential lie. Unfortunately, with it’s “I have everything, but life is still meaningless” story line, I think it errs on the side of the later.

What Is Your Recommendation?

It was a good movie, but it does have a couple of words you wouldn’t want your kids using and a message of “Redemption from the meaninglessness of life” without Jesus. I’m not sure it’s worth it. I will just be sticking with the Toy Story Series, The Incredibles, and the occasional Monsters Inc.

This picture alone is worth the e-mail – even if you don’t take the time to read the story below.

Paul Newman

Only women of a certain era will fully appreciate this …

True story- (If you don’t understand this, ask your mother, she’ll get it)

A Michigan woman and her family were vacationing in a small New England town where Paul Newman and his family often visited.

When she reached her car, she realized that she had a handful of change but her other hand was empty. Where’s my ice cream cone? Did I leave it in the store? Back into the shop she went, expecting to see the cone still in the clerk’s hand – or in a holder on the counter or something…

No ice cream cone was in sight.

With that, she happened to look over at Paul Newman.

His face broke into his familiar, warm, friendly grin and he said to the woman, ‘You put it in your purse.’

I’d like to be remembered as a guy who tried — tried to be part of his times, tried to help people communicate with one another, tried to find some decency in his own life, tried to extend himself as a human being. Someone who isn’t complacent, who doesn’t cop out.

A man with no enemies is a man with no character.

I am confounded at the stinginess of some institutions and some people. I’m bewildered by it. You can only put away so much stuff in your closet. In 1987, the average CEO against someone who was working in his factory was 70 times. It’s now 410 times.

Paul Newman, 1925 – 2008

On his love for food.

When I realized I was going to have to be a whore, to put my face on the label, I decided that the only way I could do it was to give away all the money we make. Over the years, that ethical stance has given us a 30 per cent boost. One in three customers buys my products because all the profits go to good causes and the rest buy the stuff because it is good.

The embarrassing thing is that my salad dressing is out-grossing my films.

It’s all been a bad joke that just ran out of control. I got into food for fun but the business got a mind of its own. Now — my good Lord — look where it has gotten me. My products are on supermarket shelves, in cinemas, in the theater. And they say show business is odd.

Over $280 million has been generated for charity since 1982.

Newman’s Own

“Although I am a well-known person and have made my career as a professional athlete, I have been dismayed to realize the full extent of what tabloid scrutiny really means” says Tiger Woods on his website about the events of the past week.

Was he being naïve to believe the tabloid media would not pry into his personal life, or did he deserve his private life to be respected and not become part of the public’s breakfast fare?

The actor Paul Newman famously never signed an autograph after a fan came up to him at a urinal and asked him for his signature. As we continue to invade our sports stars – and other public figures – lives do we risk losing so much more?

It used to be that children could run up to their heroes at a sporting venue on the pitch after games and pat them on the back, or request an autograph, but those days have long gone and it is regrettable.

Just like some stars will no longer sign autographs for adults for fear that within 24 hours they will be turned into a business item on e-bay or some similar outlet.

For five minutes of titillation we inflict so much more pain on those we supposedly admire. We also run the risk of losing contact with them as real people, as who can blame a star from walking away from the media, and an over enquiring public.

Sure anyone in the public eye, who as a result of their chosen profession earns vast sums of money and is adored by children, has a moral responsibility to behave in a certain way in public. Like it or not that comes with the territory, you are a role model.

However there has to be a line as to when they are public property and when they are not.

It is our belief that if they are at their place of work, e.g. the ground on match day or at the training ground or a sporting event they are fair game to be approached for an autograph.

If they are at dinner with friends respect should be paid. Wait until maybe they have finished and approach politely, and give them the option to turn you down if they feel it is inappropriate. Outside, in their private world they should be allowed to live. If they want privacy respect it.

Tiger Woods has been a wonderful ambassador and also very generous to certain individuals and charities. The man has made a mistake, sadly a public one, but ultimately it is none of our business, and nor should it be.

This has been something that has cropped up for me a number of times over the past few days. The value of passion as it comes across to me is a very human quality that can’t really be measured and tracked through a spreadsheet but can impact the bottom line dramatically. It’s one of those intangibles that business has to be aware of and consider, otherwise it’ll be too late.

For me the easiest description comes through music. For example, Britney Spears’ Three single. Perfectly fine popcorn music but thoroughly lacking in any passion, despite the content of the lyrics. It’s an exercise in marketing. I’m sure the people involved in the exercise have a passion for the project/track but fundamentally it is borne out of a marketing plan, a demographic study etc. Those lyrics mean nothing to her, she didn’t write them because she’s fascinated by threesomes, is experimenting with her sexuality etc, it’s cynical, obvious and demeaning. Has it been a hit, sure, everyone makes out like a bandit with cash in hand I’m sure. But, everyone feels a little soiled by it and Britney as an ‘artist’ is somewhat diminished by it – sure, you could argue she’s not an artist in the first place etc etc but her next single/album will come with a question mark in the mind of the listener.

With Britney again, her tour is lip-synching. So what, you might argue, she’s a performer not a Singer. However, what was the reaction of some of the crowds? They walked out, it was wrong it was a mechanical answer to an emotional problem. So what if she gets out of breath or bums a note, the point is that connection between ‘performer’ and audience was broken. Will she have any problems selling tickets? Probably not, but not as many the next time and fewer again the following time and so on.

Just lately, I’ve come across a number of items that are the opposite of that. Paul Newman’s food line, the Crank films, The Swell Season, Toyota’s manufacturing process. All completely disparate activities but fundamentally sharing in the same thing – passion. Whether to make the best food with all natural ingredients, to go so far over the top in making a story for film, to make raw, emotive music or simply to make the perfect car. All of them, whether individually or collectively, come from a straight human emotion applied to a ‘business’ context.

It’s what drives me nuts about Rupert Murdoch and his empire. He and it are not evil per se but they spoil everything they touch by draining it dry and cynically deriving as much income as possible without giving anything back to those they’re wringing dry. Sport, news, TV, film – they’re all spotting with good things and good people but at the heart is that dry, methodical and mechanical process. His is a passion for winning, making money etc. All fine and good but surely, little by little his products are losing ground, little pieces falling off the empire every day as readers, viewers and consumers drift away one at a time.

There’s absolutely nothing wrong with making money, I’m as much a capitalist as the next man but there’s something important in the way you go about it. If you don’t add value to something, if it’s not rich in deep value for the consumer, day by day it’ll wither and die.

Google is an interesting case in point. Fundamentally, the company is adding value for the end-user in the majority if things it does. It’s thriving, making money hand over fist. Not everything it does is good but there’s a touching innocence about most of its works. There’s a passion in adding value to simple experiences like search and that value is worth hundreds of dollars per share.

Apple is another major business case in point. Again, some fairly stupid mistakes are made but the passion in adding value through usability, beauty and simplicity has seen the company return from the brink of extinction to fairly rude health. Yup, it, Apple, screws you on price but the value of their products goes well beyond the dollars and cents. Brand values etc to one side, you feel good owning and using Apple products and that stems from the likes of Steve Jobs and Jonathan Ives (and countless others) imbuing those products with a passion for quality, functionality and beauty.

There are many others, the last two just spring to mind as they’re closest to hand.

I’m working with a company at the moment who are entirely focused in sharing their passion for what they do. It’s got me excited to be involved in the way I am. It makes me want to add whatever quality I can to the process. The end result will be great and whatever flaws may exist will be overlooked and forgiven by users because at the heart of the end product will be a passion and that will add that special value that most people instinctively sense and are drawn to.

Maybe that’s the value of passion. People engage, enjoy and forgive whatever small issues there may be, whereas when the business, process or product is driven by cold hard calculations, it’s all to human to recoil and reject.

A good case in point and much better written: Miranda Sawyer on Simon Cowell

The second, and decidedly superior product, from Robert Benton last weekend. In the recent Feast of Love, Benton traded in the solid, veteran cast from his previous film Twilight for a set of young and sexy pawns to cater to navel-gazing empty-headed philosophes. This film, however, takes major advantage of its L.A. setting, incorporating the right sites and sights of those sites (and corresponding implications about L.A. and its inhabitants) to construct a solid “neo-noir” (as they’re calling it) that would make the old boys proud. If Hollywood movies have taught us anything, it’s that there is nothing good, moral, or hopeful to be found in Los Angeles. It’s a doomed city, as it was from its earliest days when a bunch of capitalist idealists decided to settle in an area when a soon-to-be-depleted water supply, no harbor, and virtually no chance of survival at the onset of the Industrial Revolution. The area had no life in it, but they forced life into it, anyway.

L.A. hills

The newspapers were infamously responsible for a good chunk of this forced growth, acknowledged by Jack Ames (Gene Hackman), who says that what the L.A. Times says is good enough for him, truth-wise. This acknowledgment commits that famous error of noir characters, conflating or confusing truth with fact. (Ames is referring to a supposed murder that the Times claimed was a suicide.) Ames’ poor health fits the bill of the castrated patriarchal figure who finances and initiates the investigation, which of course turns out to implicate him and those close to him.

He has the cancer

Speaking of castration, the opening scene almost castrates Harry Ross (Paul Newman), as 17-year old Mel Ames (Reese Witherspoon) accidentally puts a bullet into his inner thigh. As a result, the police force mistakenly believes this P.I. has lost his manhood when in fact he’s quite virile, especially for a senior citizen. The diegetic “audience” (basically the police force and James Garner’s character Raymond Hope) assume him to be no threat, having lost his instrument of power. Hope even asks Ross point blank if he’s still got it. The same point correlates to Ross’ ability to invade the intimate spaces of women without them feeling threatened. At their first encounters in the film, both of the Ames women (daughter and mother) are fully undressed when Ross penetrates their hotel room and swimming area, respectively. Though Mel is disappointed to see him and Catherine (Susan Sarandon, the chief femme fatale) delighted, neither is phased in the slightest at encountering this particular male figure while bodily exposed.

Unphased

That Harry has no space of his own – forced to live with his client and client’s attractive wife – fits with the down-and-out nature of his character and the nature of noir’s glory days: always in the past (or always the stuff of dreams). The sinister characters – whether directly implicated in the crimes or guilty by association – dwell without exception in those notorious Modernist style cliff homes overlooking the L.A. Basin. These are the homes of the successful, and to be successful in L.A. involves a lack of scruples (at least in the movies). The P.I. character may not have many scruples, but he does have some. He’s interested not in ascending but in surviving. He may temporarily disregard conventional morals (such as destroying evidence, breaking and entering), but only for the pragmatic greater good. Harry’s days are bygone days or attempts to re-enter bygone days. The same can be said of his clients and his nemesis. At the same time, there’s a “I can’t go back to that” element that is undeniable, but only in moments of intense duress. Noir’s defeatist fatalism must admit in moments of clarity that even the past was no more glorious than the present. Harry’s past includes a divorce and alcoholism. Raymond’s past returns him to the flat Basin from the jagged cliffs. Raymond’s last name, “Hope,” and his eventual death capture the inevitability of the dark world of L.A. success and the crime that must accompany it. The ironically hopeful ending for Harry returns him to a liminal past – not the distant past but further back than the present. He returns to a vacation spot, a dream, a temporary escape from all that is unavoidable in his life. As is often the case with noir protagonists, however, Harry is an amnesiac, forgetting this film’s opening setting and his almost-castration, which took place at a vacation spot in Mexico.

Living in a crime scene

Tampering

Echoes of Sunset Boulevard

Power overlooking

Wow. I’d like to cuddle with him on the curb by that fire, cigarette, curls and all. See what that neon sign spells in the background? So not a coincidence.

via nerd boyfriend.

Not “a” childhood favorite, but “the” childhood favorite: The Sting. Taught me everything I needed to know about the blurry area between “right” and “wrong.” Is it really unethical to steal from someone who steals for a living? Is it immoral to lie to a guy who had your best friend killed? Yeah, they’re all perpetuating criminal activity in a world overrun with it, but it’s every man for himself when the cops are as dirty as the big-con bosses. This is the type of film that appeals to the crook in all of us – not unlike the previous Newman-Redford film from George Roy Hill, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. They are designed to elicit enormous pleasure from their audience, and they deliver. As good as the poker scenes are in the recent Casino Royale, they have none of the charm of Paul Newman or the joy of seeing Robert Shaw’s face when someone cheats him better than he cheats. With a face and an accent and a posture like Shaw’s who needs the villain’s eye to weep blood? This is one of those films that doesn’t encourage its viewers to think as much as to feel. On the other hand, something is being said about class. Luther’s retirement offers him the occasion to push Hooker toward the big con, insisting that he has what it takes – including the skin tone – to succeed at a higher level. Henry Gondorf is reduced to operating a merry-go-round, lying low until an opportunity like this arises to hit one of the big guys where it hurts. The film is shot completely from the shabby point of view of the lower class. Attention is even given to the little guys who want in on the big heist. The film revels in leveling class structures by transgressing hypocritical moral boundaries. Characters do what they do because they have to and because society doesn’t really expect them to do differently. These are not the Ocean’s Eleven guys, pretty boys who wear Versace, frost their hair, wax their chests, and blow their dough on attempts to climb the capitalist ladder. They’re beautiful enough that they’re content to couple with sub-par dames and wear suspenders over their wife-beaters.

Tre classiconi…

Lo spaccone:

Il sorpasso:

La finestra sul cortile:

Our interview with Richard Anderson continues into the second hour as the actor discusses his work with David Janssen on The Fugitive, Burt Reynolds on Dan August, John Frankenheimer in Seconds and Stanley Kubrick in Paths of Glory, as well as his encounters with Preston Sturges and Cary Grant early in his career. Then Tony Figueroa remembers Rock Hudson, Charles M. Schultz and Tom Hatten during This Week in Television History, while David Krell discusses Brandon Tartikoff’s memoir The Last Great Ride:

http://media.podcastingmanager.com/9/3/5/3/3/142636-133539/Media/111609tvc34_2.mp3