Saturday, January 5, 2008

Oh, oh, no no no subject at all.....

Luv that Huckaberry - bee? What a cutie pie. It'd be nice to see someone like him replace the present over-managed little boy now in office.


The next act in the WGA strike will be the formal entry of The Screen Actors Guild onstage.  Ha! Actors don't care if the strike lasts forever. Most of us have spent our entire acting career waiting for the next gig.  Creeps who work all the time, you know creeps like Cruise et al, may give desperate 'love-me' signals but as actors and some of the better directors say, "I've done a dump bigger than him." And Pitt is the pits. So in this strike drama not a soul outside the Studio gate gives a damn about lots of the name actors. Sure, sure, sour grapes, but the Star system is solely a money-making device to sucker moviegoers.  Of course there have been big people movie stars. Don't ya think Huckabee is a tad like Gary Cooper (singled out by no less a luminary than Constantin Stanislavsky) or James Stewart?


In 1935 the LA Times printed the news that 'the streets of Culver City ran with blood' over a labor union strike about to hit MGM.  It was so serious that Mutiny on the Bounty was almost not completed for fear of igniting even more ferocious brawling in the streets. You see, The great Depression that began in '29, didn't hit California bigtime till 1934.  You can't imagine the sappy little pasty-faced former urchins who pass for Studio executives. Many of them, stangely enough, went to Harvard and have a club for Hollywood 'Boys.' I get invitations from them, or used to. Maybe it leaked out I'm a Union actor. I got a terrific start as an actor by acting in, and Directing, two different undergraduate theater productions onstage as the Agassi (shoot, can't spell it: he was a famous Naturalist) theater then part of Radcliffe, now part of Harvard. A lot of those guys begin as Studio accountants. See? It's all about money. It's be great if a California Seismic Phenomenon simply swallowed Hollywood.


So, you see, SAG will enter the strike and that'll be all she wrote. The Studio vessel has already sprung a leak: The Writers who have gone back to work for Letterman are receiving, now, the very things the Actors are demanding!


Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.


Barry


http://journals.aol.com/bbartle3/Vengeance/



 


 


 


 


 


 


 


 


 

Monday, December 31, 2007

Presents 'N Stuff

Well, I bought myself, or more accurately the household present money allowed me to buy a small, and excellent camera, CANON, Power Shot. Works good. For example, the flash doesn't look like flash the way film cameras used to scream out FLASH!!! All the controls are in the right place. The numbers are good. Haven't devoured the instuction book yet, but what showed up so far is technically astounding.


Wifey bought herself a white (oooooh, lush rich white) JEEP, shaped somewhat like a HUMMER. 4X4. I had never driven either one. Unhappily, Wifey won't drive. She can drive, but won't. A few years ago she was seriously injured when her driver fell asleep. And no that wasn't me. So I'm chaufeur. With the 4X4 and so much room for bedbags (huh?) and folding-down seats making sleeping room, we plan one day to drive down Baha* California. *Sp?. We'll avoid the resorts at the tip, joints OJ frequented - not that we could afford them anyway.


Michael (5) got a literally screaming Dinosaur about a foot and a half long. I hope it eats him. Just kidding. Vincent 12, got his laptop. It sucks 'access' via a 6" antenna placed near our modem. The baby, Mark Andrew got a robot dog and oodles of infant clothes all of which he has almost already outgrown.


Communion with relatives, friends, and all those present at the first Christmas was, quite candidly, thrilling far beyond any thought of deserving.


May the New Year bring Peace love and joy to all our blogging friends and acquaintances.


Love,


Barry


http://journals.aol.com/bbartle3/Vengeance/

Saturday, December 22, 2007

Christmas

You know how I know it is Christmas? I mean really Christmas? A street-vending truck driver who peddles candy, icecream and other 'comfort food' came to the downstairs door asking where the children were, children who'd purchased $1 of something or other, blue stuff that discolored their teeth and lips and face. They had not waited for their $4 of change. What makes this display of integrity so outstanding is that I was a tad sharp with him partly because my Spanish is poor, and didn't understand what he wanted! He persisted!


Gotta get that hombre a present pronto!


Barry


http://journals.aol.com/bbartle3/Vengeance/





 


 

Wednesday, December 5, 2007

To be ascertained.....

Christmas. It's upon us. I notice how secretive I become about the flow of indirect 'who got what, and who will get what,' and 'why haven't I done more Xmas shopping?' I bought my wife a trivial present and joked it was a Xmas (that is, not the REAL Christmas connected gift) and she said, "That's really for YOU!" Gee, foiled again. A craven coward, I give bigger/better presents to those I'm afraid of, rather than to those I love the most. Last Christmas I mailed better presents to a former friend than I gave to anyone in my immediate family simply because he insulted me, after becoming estranged, just to get even. He wants me, and his mother wants me, to know he's well-off. I doubt I ever met his mother but I do remember for certain that the only thing she ever said to me, the ONLY thing, and it was on the phone of all places, that her son had bought the building where he lived in Greenwich Village after college. (We knew each other in college.)  In other words the guy is a millionaire. And, he wants me to know it! It's no secret that money has a reputation for causing evil.


So, how much of Christmas gift giving is generated from needs to dominate, and just how much of the gift giving is an expression of love?!  You be the judge. 


Often, I've come to believe, the best gift-giving takes place on a cold night in June, late at night, annonymously.


Barry


http://journals.aol.com/bbartle3/Vengeance/




 


 


 


 

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Jeanette Macdonald

Jeanette MacDonald, you'll find, if you Google that name, may not be particularly remembered today, perhaps because she led a happy life and appeared in light weight musicals in 1930's movies, has been much written about. In the 1940's she made a movie in color that was along the lines of Lassie Come Home; but in MacDonald's movie I think the animal of sentiment was a horse. She was spectacularly well made up and photographed to perfection, so that I can claim she outshone Garbo in beauty (I doubt Garbo ever made a movie in color) and in spite of J Mac's so-so acting, and light weight singing, she's easily the most beautiful woman in the history of the movies.


I noticed something most peculiar: her Hollywood makeup man didn't believe in black lines surrounding her eyes, a practice today that's all the rage. Every female face on magazines displayed in supermarkets today has been made ugly by  ludicrous almond-shaped (if you insist) black lines around the eyes. Are women today trying to look like Cleopatra, or some other long dead supposed great beauty? Every (?) woman newscaster has those damn black circles. What gives? Hillary probably has them too. Might rethink my vote. Ha.


Usually, in my visceral response to women actors, my involuntary response depends almost exclusively on their acting, not their appearance. But in the Case of MacDonald her beauty floors me. In the movie I saw her character gave a singing recital which included an aria from Madame Butterfly, her character a young Japanese woman in love with an American sailor. She sang the music (Puccini) but didn't characterize at all. That fact didn't detract from her beauty one teensy bit! My guess is that by that time, the 1940's, she called the shots. Which, I bet, included, no black circles around her eyes!!


Barry


http://journals.aol.com/bbartle3/Vengeance/




 


 

Saturday, November 17, 2007

Okay then, cats it is.....

The vehicle parked next to mine in the garage has on the dashboard a small, but lifesized, and lifelike, children's (?) ginger kitten looking almost full grown. The other day a fully grown older and wild cat, female, was lying next to the 'kitten' but outside in the cruel world. I could hardly believe my eyes and for some minute or so thought the inside kitten was real. 'How cute' I thought.


I know that 'Mother' cat and have smooth-talked her to be more tame. Nothing doing, not really, she's a cat that has given up on humans and loves the dumptster instead: the food there being more reliable and certainly more sumptuous. She lies on the hood in order to keep warm at night. The engine coolant stays warm for hours I guess, in spite of the fan that runs even after the engine has been turned off.


I can only assume the mother cat was pretending just as the owner-child of the inside ginger toy pretents the stuffed animal is real. Let me jump ahead: I think domestic cats, whether inside or permanently 'out' have evolved to stay connected to the races of people who in various ways bred them. Even the wildest of domestic cats will, almost involunteerily, respond to 'Kitty kitty kitty' even from anti-sentimentalists such as I am. They evolved with us, and can't forget us....ha ha ha ha ha...I like cats. But think giving them diamond collars is a bit much.


Barry


 

Friday, November 16, 2007

History and White Women.

When I pick up my two 'middle' boys Patrick and Michael, three African American parents, two women and one man, a husband/parent of one of the former, merrily chat with me while we wait. Yet, not one single Hispanic parent, of hundreds if not thousands, will even look my way, let alone converse with me. Spooky.


That fact seemed worth establishing as in my experience, before I comment on the comedy of Obama and Hillary (aka Hillary and Obama). I swear Obama, Lawyer, US Senator from Ohio, Harvard Review (law school) chief for a period, is terrified of getting caught, him a Black man, peering at the probable place of the white woman's cleavage. Remember? Cleavage really and truly re Hillary, did come up as a subject along with photo proof on TV. (Nice btw; hey, I always look; I look at everything, even if nothing is showing.)


Main Entry: cleav·age
Function: noun
Pronunciation: 'kle-vij
1 a : the quality of a crystallized substance or rock of splitting along definite planes ; also : the occurrence of such splitting b : a fragment (as of a diamond) obtained by splitting
2 : the action of cleaving : the state of being cleft
3 : the series of synchronized mitotic cell divisions of the fertilized egg that results in the formation of the blastomeres and changes the single-celled zygote into a multicellular embryo ; also : one of these cell divisions
4 : the splitting of a molecule into simpler molecules
5 : the depression between a woman's breasts especially when made visible by the wearing of a low-cut dress


(Gee, billing here seems a bit off: "Cleavage" needs a stronger agent or lawyer)


So, it was truly giggle time whenever Obama tried not to actually look at his political nemesis Hillary Clinton, Sen. (D) New York.  She even had the Chutzpah to say she came that night wearing her flame proof pants suit!  Ha ha ha ha ha ha. Love that woman. 


Barry


http://journals.aol.com/bbartle3/Vengeance/