Will today’s shows be on TV 60 years from now? I doubt it. I seriously doubt it (Gilligan’s Island actually started 58 years ago, but that’s pretty close). This movie sequel here is from 1978, the show ran from ’64 – ’66. The writing in this movie is already so cringy. Not to mention we have fake Ginger here. But that’s not the issue! Gilligan’s Island is a part of a larger phenomena I call a “shared cultural experience“.

Back then we had 3 channels: ABC, NBC & CBS. PBS wasn’t even a thing until 1967 or so, not that it ever had programs a kid would want to watch anyway. Don’t get me wrong, there was a lot of crap on the air back then. Not everything was Masterpiece Theater. I’m not saying Gilligan’s Island was always perfect either. But it has stood the test of time. As did Gunsmoke, Leave It to Beaver, I Dream of Jeannie, Bewitched and say The Beverly Hillbillies.

I don’t know, maybe I’m full of it. My kid’s generation had favorite shows like Saved By The Bell, Power Rangers, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and Sabrina the Teenage Witch. Are those shows shown 30 years later? Two of them are. Two adult shows from 30 years ago that are shown today are Heat of the Night and Walker Texas Ranger. So its starting to look like I’m full of crap. I guess so.

But just the video I used for this post supports my argument in a way. This reunion movie a dozen years after the series ended. It was an EVENT. We watched it. Bad as it was. Despite the fake Ginger. There were several more movies just from this series. Not to mention reunion movies from the Brady Bunch and The Waltons. It was around the late 70’s when cable television came into being and put an end to “the 3 channels” and the shared cultural experience.

Changing demographics. Losing societal innocence: Vietnam, Watergate, all the high profile assassinations, the internet. Then in the last few years losing all national identity when we lost control of our border. No longer being able to hold an honest election. Not to mention the cultural destruction of this whole boys are girls (?) thing. They fought so long for “women’s rights” only to turn over their movement to self identifying lunatics.

I didn’t like having to go where I did in the above paragraph, so I’m not even going to get into COVID and The Great Reset. I don’t know. I just can’t help but feel we lost ‘something’. I’m not sure what it is, but I’m pretty sure its gone. For example we’ll never have again the Hollywood Legends that we had 80 years ago. The Bing Crosby, Bob Hope, John Wayne, Jimmy Stewart, Henry Fonda, Humphrey Bogart, Katharine Hepburn class of celebrity.

I apologize for being on this tirade before in music and other areas. Just now trying to figure out why it bothers me so much I think it came to me. We’re losing our cultural identity. The ‘American’ is dying. And if the American is dying, it kind of goes to follow that ‘America‘ is dying. That’s not good. Not on a small scale and not on a global scale.

Lose the culture, lose the country. Hence the “culture war”.

TCM’s Noir Alley on Sunday mornings has quickly become about my favorite movie experience. Its hosted by Eddie Muller. You can’t imagine anyone else in his place. These movies are so gritty. Right now the movie just ended and Eddie is giving the background on the movie, the director and the cast. The inside tidbits he throws out are fascinating. The attraction the director Budd Boetticher had for star Rhonda Fleming (who frankly I had never heard of before). Villain Wendell Corey who was dead at 54 from liver failure due to acute alcoholism.

The Killer Is Loose starts off with a bank job being pulled off with the help of the head teller Wendell Corey. Too many clues come out about how the robbers knew where the alarm was, and why did they know the managers name? Pretty soon the coppers figure it out and go knocking on Corey’s apartment door. “You’ll never take me alive coppers!” He fires a shot through the door at them. “You said he wasn’t armed?!” They bust into the darkened apartment and shoot the silhouetted figure they can just make out, and as they turn on the lights they realize they killed – her! The coppers have gunned down Corey’s wife!

The rest of the move is how Corey gets away from the prison farm, past 2,000 southern California law enforcement, and get’s to the climatic scene where he’s just 5 paces behind the detectives wife who he vowed to kill in revenge for his own wife’s murder! Great stuff. There’s a scene a few minutes before where our killer is in the kitchen with an old war buddy, trying to figure out his next move. The buddy is standing in front of the frig holding the glass milk bottle that they used back then, and our killer shoots him right through the milk bottle! Glass and milk go flying!

The beauty of film noir is the location shooting, getting it done in 2 weeks, getting to see actors like Alan Hale in a serious role, the side boob shots of the dames in tight blouses! This stuff is just up my alley. The creative writing that leads just “where you know its going”, then there’s the surprise twist! One of my favorites was in last week’s Asphalt Jungle when during the getaway after the heist, they successfully pull the copper through the door and punch his lights out, but as he loses consciousness, he drops his service revolver and shoots their safe man Anthony Caruso through the heart! Setting off a cavalcade of bad luck. Their caper goes bad because of that copper!

In our movie Wendell Corey gets his in the end (looking like Swiss cheese!), and Rhonda Fleming goes on to dazzle for many more years! Looking her up I found some absolutely stunning images and posted some of them below. Knowing a little bit about photography of that era, I would say by the quality, quantity and variety of the styles, she must a been pretty popular. That and I can never resist posting pictures of a good lookin’ dame!

“While she was always a competent actress, she was more renowned for her exquisite beauty, and the camera absolutely adored her. One time a cameraman on one of her films remarked on how he was so struck by her beauty that, as a gag, he intentionally tried to photograph her badly; he was astonished to discover that no matter how deliberately he botched it, she still came out looking ravishing.”

1977, what a time it was. The world was so much more beautiful than today. Its hard to describe. The reason I put up this version of ‘We’re All Alone‘, is that the video captures the essence of the time perfectly. Just makes me cry, what we’ve lost. And Rita! In this video there’s various video clips and stills of her from back in the day. Beautiful person, beautiful soul. Younger audiences might know her from her ‘Bond’ song: ‘All Time High’.

I thought I knew words, I don’t. For some reason beautiful sounds / voices send me over the edge. And she has that. I listened to such trash back then. When you’re 18 and a guy back then you were “supposed” to listen to groups like Bachman-Turner Overdrive, Guess Who, Grand Funk Railroad, Steppenwolf, Deep Purple, Black Sabbath. I wouldn’t have known who Rita Coolidge was back then. She was outside my ‘wheelhouse’.

“With all the things Rita Coolidge has gone through in her life, she’s deserving of the title Delta Lady. The 1970s singer-songwriter has gone from being a party girl and muse who dated some of the biggest names in music, to enduring a volatile marriage to Kris Kristofferson, to being robbed of credit in one of the most praised songs in rock music history.” [MusicHolics]

Cherokee heritage. Her memoir ‘Delta Lady’ sounds interesting. She flew at the top. When you read her bio, it’s a literal “Who’s Who” of 70’s & 80’s music, whatever it is that I see in her, they most definitely did too. She was big time.

When I watch the Grammys now, I see these pretty, young, gorgeous people. I think, ‘As you are, I once was. As I am, you shall be.’ – Rita Coolidge

I was running down another artist I spotted in the Gab ‘Art Group’, when I ran into this absolutely stunning piece by N.C. Wyeth (1882-1945). Just wonderful. What he does with the clouds, and the man, are just astounding. The father of artist Andrew Wyeth. Needham, Massachusetts. “Two of his notable works were Robinson Crusoe and Treasure Island.” Manly stuff. The period he lived and the influences on his career (Howard Pyle, Zane Grey…), were just – unimaginable. An example of something I love about his work is in the picture immediately below. In this case the “white snow” on the tree, and the clouds in the sky, he does something to ‘white’ that is simply wonderful. Just thought I’d share.

Artist Andre Kohn was a fun find on the the Gab ‘Art Group’ this morning. A lot of artists do this style (lots of shimmery umbrellas, rain, puddles, and a couple walking through the park), but his pieces seem to capture the extra details that make it interesting. Who knows why? For me its the splash of red he often throws in, a cool secondary subject. A kids fascination with feeding the birds. His proportion and balance. And then simply the colors and compositions I like. Never heard of him before. Not surprising.

“The Andre Kohn Fine Art Gallery is an upscale boutique located in the historic Arts’ District of Old Town in Scottsdale, Arizona. It is the premiere destination for original, abstract contemporary and figurative works of art. The gallery collection combines an appreciation for traditional techniques with a modern and contemporary flare.

Because of the creative mind of the artist and owner Andre Kohn, a handful of internationally recognized artists were joined together to offer a unique collection focusing on truly exquisite art, marked by unsurpassed and unmistakable talent. We strive to make a difference by presenting clients with the opportunity to acquire the finest selections of Abstract Contemporary, French Impressionist and figurative works of art available. At Andre Kohn Fine Art Gallery, we pride ourselves in representing some of the most talented and sought-after artists on the American art scene today….”

[Okay so now I’m back to square one. I don’t know if these are his pieces or the ones in his gallery. There’s a phenomenon in the art world where its become all about “the gallery”, as if the artists were interchangeable and not particularly relevant. So if I present something here as ‘Andre Kohn’ and its not, my apologies.]

“Andre Kohn (Born 1972) is active/lives in Arizona. Andre Kohn is known for Portrait, figure, desert landscape and Native American figure painting. Born in Volgograd, Russia, Andre Kohn is a figure painter whose subjects include cowboys and Indians and whose style is described as figurative impressionist.”

Decades TV was showing ‘Family Affair’ this morning. Its a fun enough TV show to have on in the background. But the favorite work of Johnny Whitaker’s for me has always been his portrayal of Tom Sawyer! Because of reruns I had it in my head Johnny was younger than me, but it turns out we’re the exact same age. His bio page at IMDB provides the usual shocking (and heartwarming) tidbits.

He mentions in there that while he was greatly saddened by co-star Anissa Jone’s (TV sister ‘Buffy’) overdose death, he wasn’t all that surprised given her family life. He being raised a Mormon had a much stricter childhood. Which is ironic as it wasn’t until 1997 that it says he got clean from a drug addiction.

Likely because of his own bumps along the way as a child star, he has ‘paid it back’ with a group called “Young Performer’s Committee” to help prepare the child actors that came after him for what they might face in their own lives. Others like his co-star from Tom Sawyer, Jodi Foster seemed to come through the child star meat grinder relatively unscathed. Johnny also starred with her the year before in ‘Napoleon and Samantha‘.

Yesterday I was sixteen. Today I’m in my sixties. In my drinking days an old boy would saunter into the Legion and stop at the end of the bar where my friend Max and I would hold forth after work. We would invariably have a cigarette in our hand as we sipped a glass of Pabst. He would stick that device in his hand up to his throat and croak out something like, “I used to smoke cigarettes, they’re not good for you. Look what they did to me? You should quit.” We’d give him a dirty look and he’d go on down to the other end of the bar. Max was dead in a year at age 61. I quit drinking the next year. I smoked another 10 years and quit. 

When you’re young you know everything. You don’t need to listen to people who have been there done that. Today kids don’t smoke, they sit and look at a thing in their hand called a ‘device’. I suppose that’s better for you. I remember the first cigarette I ever smoked. I knew it was dumb and I knew I was making a lifelong decision. I was actually a bit of an athlete when I started at 15. Within a few years that was gone. I had a choice and chose the wrong path. With my later love for running after I had dropped all the bad habits, it would always make me wonder, “What could my physique and endurance be if I had stayed on the jock path?” 

The next year after I started smoking I was 16. Still a jock. I noticed a young lady in school from the neighboring town. Noticed isn’t the right word, thunderstruck was more accurate. I’d never seen anything like her. She came into classes a few minutes after they started to pick up the attendance reports from the teacher. She obviously had her stuff together, they only let good students pick up the extra credit to be teacher assistants or aides or whatever they were called. She was a freshman when I was a junior. But I quickly found out who she was by looking at the previous year’s Yearbook. 

I was thoroughly amazed by her the next two years. She gave me opportunity after opportunity to ‘make my move‘. I could not pull the trigger. I dated a handful of times in high school. I was certainly no Romeo. I was extremely stunted around girls for the longest time. My family had teased me mercilessly about girls since early grade school. They had assumed since I was a cute kid that I was tearing it up with the opposite sex. Little did they realize or care that what they had done was stunt my natural social development. 

Not wanting to use her real name, I’ll call her ‘Julie‘. It certainly wasn’t just a sexual lust either. She just struck me as perfect in every way. If ever there was a case of ‘love at first sight‘, that was it. Maybe what she did as a teacher’s aide gave her a few bucks. I’d always kind a wondered. She’d had this high-necked, long sleeve sky blue dress that she wore for a couple of years. It was just beautiful, and it still fit perfectly (sort of), but the incredible physique she was developing threatened every thread in it. She was also a dancer in the school’s drill team, and I noticed she didn’t have the same white uniform blouse as the other girls. Maybe she couldn’t afford it?

One of the ways she tried to make it easy on me was when she sent her sister (who was a grade above me) to check me out. Jada comes and plops down next to me in the Student Rec Center and strikes up a conversation with me. All I had to do was talk to her sister, show her I wasn’t a serial killer, and show her my undying love for Julie. And I couldn’t do it. It was starting to become clear in my retarded brain, that although I had thought she would never be able tell my soul burned for her, and that my love was a secret, it turns out women can tell when they are being looked at. They have “guy-dar“. They can tell from 50 yards away when a guy is looking at them. I don’t know how they do it. 

The next year, my senior year, was the most blatant of all. It was springtime March or April and graduation was barreling down at me. She knew this. We were waiting in the student activities center waiting for the buses to take us kids home who had had after school activities, mine was tennis. She sets it up with her friend to have a fake “fall” going after a ball and she lands literally at my feet. The normal guy would have said, “Julie! Are you alright??” And proceeded to help her up and see if she was okay. Thereby starting a conversation. 

Not me. I was too petrified. A month later and its Senior Day. Our last day of classes. My friends and I were running the halls as the derelicts we were having a running squirt gun fight. Julie comes out of a classroom and literally bumps into me. We look at each other, and we both know. On the last day in the last hour that I will ever be in that school. When I am heading out to “become an adult”, I don’t have the courage to talk to her. I am so young and so stupid, I don’t have the sense to grasp what I am passing up. God, fate and Julie had given me every chance there was. 

I know I will never see her again. She knows it too. I can tell. And today, in a month or two (if I can find out when) will be my 45^th  Class Reunion. I say that simply as a warning to young people that will not be heard. I realize “you have forever in front of you!” But you don’t. Don’t take the wrong path. You know what’s right and what’s wrong. Don’t put off till tomorrow, what you can grab today. And the important things in the end will be that woman, and those kids. Cherish them. The most beautiful woman in the world (that also loves you), does not come along every day. Don’t let her pass you by. 

[It took me 45 years to figure out what it was about that blue dress she had. It made her eyes ‘pop’, because they were blue too. Two years later I found out from a friend’s younger brother that was in Julie’s class, they had figured out what I saw when she was a freshman. They had made her Homecoming Queen her senior year. She was the most beautiful girl in that school. And the nicest. I realized in my next post on this subject I wanted to attempt to tackle the secret to finding that life long relationship success, and not grabbing onto failure.] 

Some retro channel the other day was showing the first season of The Simpsons. It was “on” where I was at. I’m sure I wouldn’t have tuned to it myself. Every 30 seconds or so I found myself chuckling. Funny stuff. As I think about what made it so good, a couple of areas stick out. The voice actors were incredible. The writing superb. The animation was generally very pedestrian, except for the facial expressions. Sound effects good, editing good.

A dozen years ago or so a talk show had all the actors together onstage. It was very sad, it was the first time they had met. The reality is animated series are very cheap to produce. No sets, no divas, no overhead. They could have the voice actor come in and read their part (parts) for an entire season in a day or two. Then it was just all edited together. No group sessions, no hi-jinks. Just very business-like.

Its been going since 1989. The IMDB page is quite interesting. It always shocked me Bart is played by a woman. As is Milhouse. Marge is voiced by “Rhoda’s sister” Julie Kavner. For those who aren’t true ‘Simpson-philes’, reviewer “liquidcelluloid-1” offers some interesting insight to the series and his perception of it ruined, was from 2004?! That’s 18 years ago! Which is intriguing as I know personally someone who is a Simpson expert and it goes along with his thinking perfectly.

Its also interesting to note that while women watch it, the obsession rests with men (boys). Also of note is that it was birthed by the FOX Network. Its easy to forget the tawdry nature of the upstart network back in the 80’s. Think of shows like ‘Married With Children’. They took low-brow to a whole new level. Another cost cutting aspect to it is that they farmed out the animation to South Korea long ago. Every once in awhile you’ll shake your head wondering if you see Asiatic aspects to the characters.

THAT is what I miss about the 70’s. The women. They had breasts and weren’t afraid to use them! Bra or no bra, didn’t matter. Short shorts. Halters. Like the music, we assumed it would always be like this. Little did we know. The write-up on Pamela here is from journeyranger.com . A truly beautiful story. Anytime you can combine the feminine mystique with gas powered engines, its a good thing.

“Over the course of his career, Jim Liberman made a name for himself as someone who really wanted to put on a performance for those who came out to watch him. He wanted to make sure that people got their money’s worth and saw the true spirit of Funny Car drag racing, and he wanted to show off his own talent in the process. Thanks to this, he earned himself the nickname of “Jungle Jim.”

His wild demeanor on the track was hard to ignore, but his fans weren’t the only ones cheering him on. That’s because Jim wouldn’t be seen attending any event without a certain someone beside him. This was a beautiful young woman by the name of Pamela Hardy – and she quickly caused a scene. It wasn’t long before she had earned her own nickname of “Jungle Pam.”

Becoming an icon

In fact, Jim Liberman’s career soon transformed into the career of Jim and Pam collectively. They shared the attention, they shared the success, and they shared their place on the racetrack – even though Pam didn’t set foot into the car herself. Instead, Jungle Pam became a household name by being the ultimate girlfriend, the most beautiful cheerleader, and the coolest sidekick that any driver had ever had before.

The days of Joie Chitwood, Evel Knievel, Wide World of Sports and a ton of exhaust fumes. Brings a tear to your eye. (sniff) And God’s finest invention: the Woman.

It’s just a “wee” bit of an understatement to call this a Billy Preston performance (William Everett Preston – September 2, 1946 – June 6, 2006). There’s got to be 50 people up there with him. I suppose YouTube put it up in my recommendations as I had listened to his “back in the day” performances of ‘Will It Go Round In Circles‘ and ‘Nothing From Nothing‘. I remember even in my limited musical appreciation I had thought, “Boy that guy’s really good!”

So I see the thumbnail for this video and I’m thinking, okay its 30 years later and its probably a “be polite” effort to give the old boy one last shot at the spotlight. Ha! The concert it seems was a tribute from all the musician friends of of the then recently deceased George Harrison.

You had luminaries no less than Paul McCartney, Ringo Starr and Eric Clapton playing with other stars that I’m sure are just as famous within the industry. You have like 10 guitarists, 5 drummers, 5 keyboardists and on and on, making for one hell of a performance.

But it wasn’t even the spectacle of it with all the celebrities backing him that drew me to it. It was the richness of Preston’s voice. I had thought he had a wonderful voice in the early 70’s, and he did. But what he did at this performance when he is age 56 was just amazing. I frankly don’t even know what word to use to describe the fullness of his sound. I thought I knew words, but I don’t know that word.

[“The Concert for George was held at the Royal Albert Hall in London on 29 November 2002 as a memorial to George Harrison on the first anniversary of his death. The event was organized by Harrison’s widow, Olivia, and son, Dhani, and arranged under the musical direction of Eric Clapton and Jeff Lynne. The profits from the event went to the Material World Charitable Foundation, an organization set up by Harrison.”]

“Why is Billy Preston called the 5th Beatle ? He was called the Fifth Beatle, because he the only non-member ever to be credited on a Beatles recording.”