Fourth Lake, Chapter 11

As Saturday, August 3, 1974, started out to be a really hot day, both Phil and Judy jumped into Fourth Lake for a swim as soon as they thought they had digested their breakfast.  The water was cool and refreshing.  They almost didn’t want to come out.  Judy couldn’t keep her hand off Phil, wanting to put her arms around him and kiss him many times.  She felt sexy wearing only a small bikini with most of her body exposed to the air and water.  She wanted to express her sensual and romantic feelings towards her husband.

When they finally came out of the water, Phil wrapped Judy up in a large beach towel to dry her off.  He gave her a big kiss as they were standing face to face.  They laid down on their deck chairs to relax.

After a light lunch of chicken salad and lemonaid, Phil suggested that they should finally use the bar-b-que that was on the deck in order to cook their dinner.  They hadn’t used it as yet.  Judy suggested hot dogs and hamburgers.  Phil agreed.  He also said he would drive to the grocery store to buy what they needed.  Judy adamantly said that she would go in his stead, alone.  Phil agreed.  He really did not want to run into May again.

As Judy was driving the short distance to the Inlet grocery store, she was hoping that May would be on duty.  She was still angry from two days ago when she heard May brazenly call out to her husband, “Hi, handsome.”  Judy wanted to tell her to leave her husband alone.  She wanted to protect what was hers.  When she entered the store, Judy was happy to see that May was indeed there working at the cash register.

Judy took a wagon and filled it with hot dogs, hamburgers, buns, mustard, ketchup, potato chips, cole slaw, beer (domestic and imported) and a large bag of charcoal briquettes.  When she arrived at the check out, she glared at May, who just smiled a cocky smile back at her.  May started entering Judy’s purchases in the cash register.  After she finished, Judy politely asked May to help her carry her bags to the car, which she agreed to do, since there were no customers waiting in line. 

After putting all the bags in the car, Judy asked, “Do you call every man you see, handsome?”

“No.  Only the handsome ones, like your husband.”

“Are you married?”

“Not at the moment, but I’m looking around.”

“Why don’t you look somewhere else.”

“I look where I want.  What are you going to do about it?”

Judy immediately punched May as hard as she could in her solar plexus.  May doubled over in pain, her mouth wide open, gasping for air.  Judy then grabbed a hunk of May’s short hair with her left hand to pull her up straight again.  Their faces were inches apart.  Virtually, nose to nose. 

“If you want some more, let me know.”

Judy gave her a slight shove backwards with both hands and waited for some response.  But, May just looked stunned.  Judy got into her car and drove away.

Phil cooked dinner on the deck.  Judy had a ravenous appetite, downing two hot dogs, a hamburger and a couple cans of beers.  She was a hungry tigress.  Afterwards, Judy was still aglow from her triumph at the grocery store which she did not mention to Phil.  She felt confident and full of bravado.  In other words, invincible! 

Judy and Phil watched the sun set from their deck chairs.  Eventually, she slid over and lay next to her husband on his chair with her head resting on his chest.  Later, when she thought it was dark enough, Judy got up and walked over to the edge of the deck, turned towards Phil and adtroitly stripped off her tank top, shorts, and panties.

“Come on, Phil, let’s go skinny dipping.”

“Are you crazy?” 

After diving into the Lake, Judy said, “Don’t be afraid.  Have some courage!  The water is still warm.  It’ll be fun.  Don’t be a sissy.”

Phil looked around and couldn’t see anybody.  He went over to the edge and tried to grab Judy’s arm as she was tredding water nearby. 

“Get out of there now,”  he shouted in a kind of loud whisper. 

She avoided his reach and splashed water in his face. 

“You try that again and I’ll pull you in with all your clothes on.  Come on in.  Be brave!”

Phil looked around again and saw nothing.  He stripped down to his underpants and dove in the water.  When he came up, Judy had disappeared.  Then he realized that she was under the surface trying to make him completely naked.  After a brief struggle, she succeeded.  Phil finally started to relax and they both frolicked in the water for some time, thoroughly enjoying themselves.

They didn’t realize that next door Joe Williams was straining through his binoculars to catch a glimpse of the naked pair, especially Judy.  Not only Joe, but his hunting buddy, Mitch Riley, was trying to share this golden opportunity as well.  It was fortuitous that Joe had invited him over for some beer and baseball on TV.  While Judy and Phil were in the water, they were fairly safe from prying eyes, but the two voyeurs next door were waiting for the inevitable moment when Judy would have to get out of Fourth Lake. 

 

JFK

Early in September 1960, I was with my family in a Boston hotel lobby when U.S. Senator John F. Kennedy, the Democratic Candidate for President of the United States, walked through it on his way out.  On October 30, 1963, I was in the upper level of Convention Hall in Philadelphia to hear a speech given by President John F. Kennedy to a group of local members of the Democratic Party at a fund raising dinner.  I remember all the invited guests on the lower level of the Hall wore tuxedos.  The public sat up above and had to provide their own food and drink.

A little before 2 PM on Friday, November 22, 1963 (fifty-two years ago today), I walked into my freshman English class in College Hall at the University of Pennsylvania.  Before the professor arrived to begin the class, one of my fellow students walked in with a transistor radio which was broadcasting the news.  He proclaimed that Kennedy had been shot in Dallas.  I remember my crazy first reaction was “What was he doing in Dallas?”  We all, now including the professor, sat glued to our seats until we heard the official notification from the radio announcer that the President was dead.  The professor then cancelled class and left.  I returned to my freshman dorm and a weekend all Americans alive at the time will never forget.

The thing I remember most about JFK, besides the Cuban Missle Crisis, was his sense of humor, which was excellent.  He was the first president to have live regularly scheduled news conferences which I occasionally got to watch on TV.  There were 64 of them during his presidency which lasted 1,037 days, an average of one every 16 days.  JFK was glib and, whenever he could, he would elicit some laughter from the assembled journalists, usually of the self-deprecating kind.   

As I did not have easy access to a TV, most of my recollections from those tragic days in November of 1963 were from radio and newspapers.  I didn’t see Lee Harvey Oswald, the arrested and accused assassin, shot to death by Jack Ruby in the Dallas police station, live on television.  We Americans, after having been punched in the stomach, were all in a sort of trance, sleepwalking from moment to moment, incredulous of what had happened to us as a nation.  How would we get past this?  Many of my colleagues didn’t know much about who was the new president (Lyndon Baines Johnson) and few had any confidence in him. 

The thing that sticks most in my mind from that weekend was going to Franklin Field on my college campus to watch the home town Eagles play a football game against the Washington NFL franchise, the two worst teams in its Eastern Conference.  Unlike every other sporting event that weekend, the NFL decided not to cancel its games that Sunday, two days after President Kennedy had been assassinated.  It was an extremely controversial decision.  As I had previously purchased a ticket and did not want to lose my investment, I along with 60,670 others entered the stadium to witness a meaningless game.  In a gesture to attempt to satisfy their critics, the NFL decided not to telecast any of its games as was normally the case.  Besides, most Americans were too busy watching the continuous news coverage of the assassination. 

While I was waiting for the game to begin, I heard some of my fellow football fans in the stadium talk about the assassination of Oswald.  Years later, I would be able to watch a vídeo of this second killing for myself.  Before the game started, someone sang the Star Spangled Banner and virtually the entire assembled mass joined in.  It was a very moving experience.  Oh, by the way, the Eagles lost the game.

Over the years, there has been a lingering doubt about who exactly killed President John F. Kennedy.  Was it really Oswald?  And if so, was he part of a conspiracy?  After extensive reading on the subject, including the Warren Commission Report (the President’s Commission on the Assassination of President Kennedy), it is my opinion that Lee Harvey Oswald was the one and only assassin. 

First, there is scientific evidence that Oswald fired the shots that killed JFK from the sixth floor of the former Texas School Book Depository building.  By luck, he had found a job working in the building a few months before JFK’s plan to go to Dallas was arranged.  By mail order, Oswald purchased the gun that was found at the site.  The route of the presidential motorcade through downtown Dallas was well advertised in the local media.  It was a lucky break for Oswald.  He had his opportunity. 

Second, why did he do it?  Oswald was somebody raised in a completely disfunctional family and who had very low self-esteem.  Because of this, he was desperate to make a name for himself by doing something noteworth, such as killing somebody famous.  In April of 1963, Oswald attempted to assassinate General Edwin A. Walker, a controversial, right-wing public figure, but failed.  Unfortunately, his second assassination attempt was a success. 

Third, was there a conspiracy?  For there to have been a conspiracy, it would have required Oswald to engage in detailed planning with one or more others.  This would have been highly unlikely because Oswald was a loner, a person who was alienated from his family and had no apparent friends or associates.  The only person who he was close to in his life was his Russian-born wife, Marina.  The idea that he would cooperate with others in such an activity as assassinating a president was to not understand who Oswald was.  Thus, in my opinion, there was no conspiracy.

Just as we can only imagine how the course of history (Reconstruction in the South) would have been different had President Abraham Lincoln not been assassinated by John Wilkes Booth on April 14, 1865, we also can only imagine how history (for example, Vietnam) would have been different had JFK not been assassinated on November 22, 1963.

That was a day that many said America lost its innocence.  It seems to me that prior to that day, America admired the hero.  After that day, we saw the world from a different perspective and started admiring the anti-hero.  As example, in the culture of the 1950s, we admired Eliot Ness, the federal government agent who fought the Mafia as portrayed by the actor, Robert Stack, on the TV series, The Untouchables.  In the culture of the 1970s, we admired Michael Corleone, head of a crime family as portrayed by the actor, Al Pacino, in the hit movie, The Godfather.  More than JFK died that day in 1963.        

Immigration

In the televised debate of November the 10th, US Senator Ted Cruz, a Republican candidate for President of the United States, “suggested donors were tone-deaf on the issue (of immigration) because they did not appreciate the economic impact” of what he claimed was illegal immigrants’ pushing down of American wages. “The politics of it would be very, very different if a bunch of lawyers or bankers were crossing the Rio Grande,” he said, adding that the news coverage would also differ if undocumented immigrants were seeking journalism jobs.  “Then we would see stories about the economic calamity that is befalling our nation,” he said.

To suggest that lawyers, bankers or journalists would cross the Rio Grande in search of jobs is to misunderstand the nature of what those Latin Americans are trying to do while risking their lives attempting to enter the United States illegally.  A person risks their life in such circumstances when they are desperate, when to do nothing is to doom themselves and their family to a life of hopelessness and misery.  My grandparents did something similar when they left Russia about one hundred and ten years ago.  The only difference is that in 1904, there was no such thing as an illegal immigrant.  Any healthy person was welcome because the USA was very much in need of bodies to fill the vacancies in the factories that Americans couldn’t fill.  But, later the US government changed the law. 

If a Mexican lawyer, a Guatemalan banker, or an El Salvadoran journalist wanted to live and work in the USA, they would not have to wade across the Rio Grande.  Instead, they could try to find an American law firm, bank or media company who would assist them in getting a job plus a work visa that would give them legal status.  However, very few such lawyers, bankers, or journalists want to come to the USA in the first place because they have work in their own countries.  The problem of the illegal immigrants is that they have no jobs in their own country and no prospects for getting one.  They are poorly educated people with few skills to offer an employer. 

However, what the illegal immigrants do have is a willingness to do just about any kind of work, something that few Americans are willing to do, even in a state of joblessness.  They cross the Rio Grande at great personal risk because there are jobs in the USA that go begging to be filled because no Americans are willing to fill them.  If Americans would do those jobs, if there were no vacancies, there would be no incentive for the illegals to come.  Illegals are not stealing jobs from Americans and, by implication, driving down wages for American workers.  They are instead providing services to the American economy that are being unfulfilled.   

It is said that the USA is a country of laws, where the rule of law must prevail, where the law must be enforced, including laws applicable to illegal immigration.  It is said that to give amnesty to those illegals who are already in the USA would be to encourage more to come.  When President George W. Bush commuted the prison sentence of Lewis “Scooter” Libby, the Chief of Staff to Vice President Dick Cheney, who was convicted of perjury, did he encourage others to commit perjury? 

There is an expression that if one man breaks a law, you put him in jail.  If everybody breaks a law, you change the law.  There are an estimated 11,000,000 people in the USA who have broken the immigration laws. 

Laws are changed all the time, especially when there is a combined desire by both the executive and legislative branches to do so.  At the state level, there has been successful efforts recently to change the laws regarding abortion and voter identification.  I say it is also time to change a law that serves only to deny a select group of immigrants (those south of the Rio Grande) from realizing a better life for their families and who, instead of creating an economic calamity, are improving the quality of the American economy.            

Jim Fixx

Jim Fixx changed my life, perhaps more than anyone did that I never met.  I will be forever grateful. 

At age 35, Jim was very overweight at 240 pounds (110 KG.) and smoked two packs of cigarettes per day.  He started running to lose weight and gain a healthier lifestyle.  In 1977, Jim published his fourth book, The Complete Book of Running.  (The previous  three were collections of puzzles).  It was number one on the best seller list for eleven straight weeks.  The book sold over a million copies, one of them to me.  By then, Jim had lost 60 pounds (27 KG.) and had given up smoking.  He extolled the health benefits of running and how he believed that it considerably increased an average person’s life expectancy.  Running also increased a runner’s self-esteem, helping them acquire a runner’s “high,” and worked to help them to better cope with stress.  Fixx is credited with helping to start America's fitness revolution and to popularize the sport of running.  The millions you see running on the streets of America today are there because of something Jim Fixx started.     

I bought my copy of Jim’s book with some reservations.  I had read how another author, James Michner, in his book, Sports in America, had taken up running to deal with his health problems, but that he personally hated it.  He found it boring.  However, I found it to be exhilarating.

Before I started running, I was 32 years-old and out of shape.  If I had to run for a bus, I would be completely out of breath before I arrived.  I followed Fixx’s directions for getting started and was amazed at how quickly it worked.  I discovered, as he said, that the human body is like a rubber band.  The more you stretch it, the more it expands.  In less than a week I was able to run a mile without stopping.  I continued running for ten years until I had to stop because of my bad knees. 

I used to run six days a week, rising during the week at 5 AM for a thirty minute run, winter, spring, summer and fall.  The weekends were for an hour.  I collected tee shirts as souvenirs from the 10K races I participated in.  I remember one time in Washington, I ran from my hotel near the Capital past the Lincoln Memorial into the Commonwealth of Virgina and back.  Another time, visiting my home town of Oswego, New York, I ran retracing my steps of walking from my grade school (Fitzhugh Park School) to my home (30 East Oneida Street) when I was a little boy.       

It’s been almost thirty years since I had to stop running, but I still miss doing it.  However, it got me into the exercise habit which I still maintain.  I think my running was also a good example for both of my children who grew up involved in physical activities (gymnastics, tennis, baseball, and basketball) and continued their regimen into adulthood.    

Sadly, Jim Fixx died of a heart attack at 52 years of age in July of 1984, ironically while running near his home in Vermont.  Besides his early history of being overweight and a smoker, Jim probably had a predisposition to heart disease.  His father died of a heart attack at 43 years of age.  Jim used to say that if you could run a marathon, you were immune to heart disease.  He ran many.  However, Jim underestimated the affect of diet on health and longevity.  He liked to eat donuts for breakfast.  I stopped that bad habit.     

 

Sunset Boulevard

A few years ago, my wife, Cristina, encouraged me to re-write an unpublished manuscript of mine into the screenplay format.  She thought it would work better as a movie than as a novel.  I think she was correct.  I called it Best of Intentions.  Unfortunately, nobody to date wants to produce it.

That reminds me of Joe Gillis and the 1950 Billy Wilder movie, Sunset Boulevard.  You see, Joe Gillis, the protaganist played by William Holden (nominated for the Academy Award for Best Actor, but lost to Jose Ferrer in Cyrano de Bergerac), was a Hollywood screenwriter (like me, sort of).

There is a line in Sunset Boulevard where Joe says that, “Audiences don’t know that somebody sits down and writes a picture.  They think the actors make it up as they go along.”  Wrong!  Actually, a film starts, just as Joe said, when the screenwriter sits down and writes the movie, with dialogue, location descriptions, and action.  That’s called a screenplay and without one, there is no movie.  Of course, a producer, a director, or an actor may change the screenplay (and often do), but the starting point is the screenplay.

Sunset Boulevard is the story of a young, struggling Hollywood screenwriter (Joe Gillis) down on his luck.  He’s out of work and owes three months back rent plus three payments on his car.  The finance company is fed up and wants their car back.  Joe’s desperate to keep it.  By chance, while fleeing from finance company operatives, he gets a flat tire and parks his car in the garage adjacent to a mansion he was driving by on Sunset Boulevard.  It turns out to be the home of a silent film star, Norma Desmond (played ironically by silent film star, Gloria Swanson, who was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Actress, but lost to Judy Holiday in Born Yesterday).

There is a great piece of dialogue when Joe recognizes her.  “Wait a minute.  Haven’t I seen you before?  I know your face.  You’re Norma Desmond.  You used to be in silent pictures.  You used to be big.” 

Norma’s classic response:  “I am big.  It’s the pictures that got small.”

When Norma discovers that Joe is a screenwriter, she hires him to edit a screenplay she has written (Salome) which she hopes will be the vehicle for her return to starring in films, something she desperately wants.  She falsely believes she is still a big star, that her fans still want to see her again, even though she hasn’t made a picture in more than twenty years.  In reality, the public and the movie studios have forgotten all about her.  As Joe said, Norma’s been given the “go by.”

In the beginning, their relationship works for both of them.  Joe needs a job and Norma needs help with her script.  However, it starts to become suffocating for Joe as he is forced to live in her mansion and does not have a car or any money to come and go as he pleases and have a life of his own.  Then Joe starts to notice that Norma has become increasingly fond of him, even though she is old enough to be his mother.  She buys him expensive clothes and re-opens her swimming pool to please him. 

It all comes to a head at their New Years Eve party when she hires a small orchestra so they can dance the tango on the marble floor of her mansion.  She has invited no one else as she does not want to share Joe with anyone.  He accuses her of taking him for granted, that perhaps he has a girlfriend (which he doesn’t).  He wants to be with people his own age, to hear music and laughter again.  Norma expresses her love for Joe and is deeply hurt that it is not reciprocated. 

Joe:  “What I’m trying to say is that I’m all wrong for you.  You want a Valentino...A big shot.”

Norma:  “What you’re trying to say is that you don’t want me to love you.  Say it.  Say it.”

Joe’s lack of a response hurts Norma so much that she slaps him across the face and runs to her bedroom.  Thereupon, he leaves Norma’s mansion and goes to a friend’s (Artie played by Jack Webb) much more modest home where another much more lively New Years Eve party is going on.  There, he runs into a studio script reader (Betty played by Nancy Olson, who was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress, but lost to Josephine Hull in Harvey) he knows.  They exchange screenwriting ideas which stimulates his enthusiasm to return to his former life. 

Because of all that happened that night, Joe plans a complete break with Norma and calls the mansion to ask her valet (Max played by Erich Von Stroheim, who was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor, but lost to George Sanders in All About Eve) to pack up all his belongings.  Max said he can do nothing for Joe as a doctor was at the mansion dealing with Norma’s most recent suicide attempt.

Joe’s life hangs in the balance at this moment.  What should he do?  Should he return to Norma (and be her kept man), foresaking a more normal life?  Or should he return to his former life where he was unemployed, but would be with his old friends and former work colleagues and perhaps find love with someone of his own age.  I think you will find his choice and what it leads to both interesting and entertaining.  Please see Sunset Boulevard and let me know what you think. 

You should know that Sunset Boulevard was nominated for eleven Academy Awards, including Best Motion Picture (lost to All About Eve) and Best Director (Billy Wilder lost to Joseph L. Mankiewics for All About Eve).  It did win three Oscars:  Best Writing, Story and Screenplay (Charles Brackett, D. M. Marshman, Jr., and Billy Wilder), Best Art Direction-Set Direction (black and white film), and Best Music (Franz Waxman). 

One final note:  Sunset Boulevard has one of the best last lines of a movie when Norma (looking directly into the camera) says, “All right, Mr. DeMille.  I’m ready for my close-up.”