Libby Collins, a pretty girl with short, reddish brown hair who just turned thirteen on the first of the month, sits near the window of her home anxiously awaiting the arrival of her cousin, Burt. From here, they will make a 15 minute walk to their middle school, talking and laughing. This is a practice they had been doing every school day for as long they could remember.
Libby's father, Eddie, was Molly Larson's younger brother. He married his high school sweetheart, Dottie, right after graduation in 1937. Two years later, just a month after Burt, Libby was born. A few months after Pearl Harbor, Eddie was drafted into the US Navy. A year later, he was killed by a Japanese torpedo attack in the Pacific.
Libby and Burt both grew up without a parent of the opposite sex. Living close together and without much of any other family, they grew close. They are more than cousins.
When Libby finally sees Burt approaching her home, she yells out to her mother she is leaving. She grabs her school books and runs out the door. They meet in front of the house and head to school.
Just as they arrive in front of the school, Carl, another kid from their class, sees them approaching. He is one year older than the rest of his classmates, having been left behind a year some years ago. He isn't stupid. He just doesn't try. Outside of school, Carl is a trouble maker, occasionally picking fights on the playground. He approaches Libby.
"Hey, Libby, what are you doing with this loser? You could do so much better."
"Yeah, like who? You? Don't make me laugh."
"I'm willing to do you a big favor. Not that you deserve it."
At this point, Burt has had enough of this conversation.
"Knock it off, Carl. Leave her alone."
"Really. And who's going to make me? You and what girl scout troop?"
"Just me, Carl."
At that moment Burt and Carl stand face to face waiting for someone to make the first move. A small group of other children start crowding around them waiting for something exciting to happen.
Finally, Carl, looking for some action and having waited long enough, cocks his right fist and thrusts it towards Burt's face landing just below his left eye. At almost the same instant, Burt's right fist strikes Carl's left jaw. Carl wobbles back a bit from the force of the blow. He quickly recovers and is about to throw another punch, but decides against it.
"Had enough, Carl?"
"Another time, another place. This isn't over."
The school bell rings and all enter the building. Libby holds tight to Burt's arm as they enter together.
Sunday, October 28, 2018
Sunday, October 21, 2018
For Whom The Bell Tolls
In 1624, the English poet John Donne wrote the immortal words, "No man is an island, entire of itself. Each is a piece of the continent, a part of the main...Each man's death diminishes me, for I am involved in mankind. Therefore, send not to know for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee."
To me, Donne is saying that all human beings are part of one universal community, all related to each other, regardless of race, religion, or nationality.
The novelist Ernest Hemingway chose the above phrase as the title of his greatest novel, first published this day back in 1940. I consider it the finest I have ever read.
Ernest Hemingway was born in Oak Park, Illinois on July 21, 1899. After high school, he went to work for the Kansas City Star as a reporter.
In 1918, Hemingway volunteered as a Red Cross ambulance driver in Italy where World War I was raging. It became the basis for his novel A Farewell to Arms.
In 1926, Hemingway, while living in Paris, wrote The Sun Also Rises based on his experiences there with the post-war expatriate generation that didn't return home when the war ended.
In 1937, Hemingway went to Spain to cover the civil war for the North American Newspaper Alliance. A group of right wing generals (fascists) from the Spanish Army had led a revolt to overthrow the moderate-liberal republican Spanish government.
Hemingway was "at the Battle of the Ebro, the last Republican (anti-fascist) stand, and he was among the journalists who were the last to leave the battle as they crossed the river." His experiences in Spain led Hemingway to write For Whom the Bell Tolls. I believe he chose the title because he believed what happened in Spain was everyone's responsibility, not just Spaniards.
It is the story of Robert Jordan, an American with experience as a dynamiter who went to Spain to fight fascism. He is assigned to blow up a bridge in the mountains near the city of Segovia just before an attack begins in order to limit the enemy's ability to launch a counter-attack.
Robert (or Roberto as he is known in Spain) is assisted in blowing the bridge by a group of pro-Republican guerrillas in the area. In the group he meets Maria, "a young Spanish woman whose life had been shattered by her parents' execution and her own rape at the hands of the fascists at the outbreak of the war." Over the four days and three nights of the story, Roberto and Maria fall in love.
My favorite lines in the book occur at dawn just before Roberto and the guerrillas will attempt to blow the bridge. Roberto and Maria are alone and she asks, "How much time do we have?" meaning before they will have to part for their tasks at hand, he to do his job with the dynamite and she to secure the horses necessary for the group's escape after the mission. His response is beautiful, "A lifetime." It is what all of us have remaining in our lives.
To me, Donne is saying that all human beings are part of one universal community, all related to each other, regardless of race, religion, or nationality.
The novelist Ernest Hemingway chose the above phrase as the title of his greatest novel, first published this day back in 1940. I consider it the finest I have ever read.
Ernest Hemingway was born in Oak Park, Illinois on July 21, 1899. After high school, he went to work for the Kansas City Star as a reporter.
In 1918, Hemingway volunteered as a Red Cross ambulance driver in Italy where World War I was raging. It became the basis for his novel A Farewell to Arms.
In 1926, Hemingway, while living in Paris, wrote The Sun Also Rises based on his experiences there with the post-war expatriate generation that didn't return home when the war ended.
In 1937, Hemingway went to Spain to cover the civil war for the North American Newspaper Alliance. A group of right wing generals (fascists) from the Spanish Army had led a revolt to overthrow the moderate-liberal republican Spanish government.
Hemingway was "at the Battle of the Ebro, the last Republican (anti-fascist) stand, and he was among the journalists who were the last to leave the battle as they crossed the river." His experiences in Spain led Hemingway to write For Whom the Bell Tolls. I believe he chose the title because he believed what happened in Spain was everyone's responsibility, not just Spaniards.
It is the story of Robert Jordan, an American with experience as a dynamiter who went to Spain to fight fascism. He is assigned to blow up a bridge in the mountains near the city of Segovia just before an attack begins in order to limit the enemy's ability to launch a counter-attack.
Robert (or Roberto as he is known in Spain) is assisted in blowing the bridge by a group of pro-Republican guerrillas in the area. In the group he meets Maria, "a young Spanish woman whose life had been shattered by her parents' execution and her own rape at the hands of the fascists at the outbreak of the war." Over the four days and three nights of the story, Roberto and Maria fall in love.
My favorite lines in the book occur at dawn just before Roberto and the guerrillas will attempt to blow the bridge. Roberto and Maria are alone and she asks, "How much time do we have?" meaning before they will have to part for their tasks at hand, he to do his job with the dynamite and she to secure the horses necessary for the group's escape after the mission. His response is beautiful, "A lifetime." It is what all of us have remaining in our lives.
Sunday, October 14, 2018
Cowardly Acts
I'm a human being. I try to treat all other human beings with decency ("generally accepted standards of moral behavior"). I hope others will treat me with decency. It's like what I learned in Hebrew School a long time ago, "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you."
In 1954, United States Senator Joseph McCarthy of Wisconsin was conducting hearings into conflicting accusations made by both McCarthy and the United States Army. Chief Counsel for the Army was a lawyer named Joseph Welch. He later portrayed Judge Weaver in Otto Preminger's 1959 standout courtroom drama Anatomy of a Murder.
In the most memorable moment of the hearings, Welch stopped McCarthy's unjust character assassination of a young man with, "You've done enough. Have you no sense of decency, sir? At long last, have you left no sense of decency?" The answer was apparently not.
To me, a cowardly act shows a lack of decency. In my life, I have been both a victim and a perpetrator of cowardly acts.
I am sorry for beating a dead horse, but I must bring up again the pretty blonde girl from Minetto (Sixteen Again and Sixteen Again RevisiTed). She believed I did something that hurt her in some way. Instead of confronting me with an explanation and a request for an apology, she committed a cowardly act by ignoring me forever. She showed me a lack of decency, which I deserved.
I am sorry a second time for beating another dead horse, but I must bring up again the Nameless Girl (and the Nameless Girl RevisiTed). I did not appreciate how she treated me. So, instead of confronting her with an explanation and a request she change her ways, I committed a cowardly act by ignoring her forever. (Did I learn that from the pretty blonde girl from Minetto?) I showed the Nameless Girl a lack of decency, which she deserved.
Let me mention a new person. One night my freshman year at Penn, the young men on the fifth floor of the Class of 1928 Dormitory invited women from the nursing school at the nearby Philadelphia General Hospital to a mixer.
There I met a very nice young woman who apparently thought I was a very nice young man. She wasn't beautiful, but she was cute with short curly brown hair. We spent virtually the whole mixer together, talking, drinking and eating. We ignored all others.
She was an athlete (played soccer) and a sports fan. How wonderful! When her curfew approached, I walked her back to her dormitory on 34th Street. She gave me her phone number and we kissed good night. I felt great. However, walking back to my dorm, I threw her phone number into a garbage bin on the street. I never called her, ever. What a dummy!
In the cold night air, I suddenly realized that our relationship had no long-term future since she wasn't Jewish. I could imagine the frowning faces of my parents at my considering (at 18 years of age) marrying a shiksa (50 years later, I married one). I committed a cowardly act by not giving her an explanation for my rude behavior.
Of course, I should have continued seeing her in spite of my parents. I was too young to be thinking about marriage. I showed the nice young woman a lack a decency, which she deserved, which everybody deserves.
In 1954, United States Senator Joseph McCarthy of Wisconsin was conducting hearings into conflicting accusations made by both McCarthy and the United States Army. Chief Counsel for the Army was a lawyer named Joseph Welch. He later portrayed Judge Weaver in Otto Preminger's 1959 standout courtroom drama Anatomy of a Murder.
In the most memorable moment of the hearings, Welch stopped McCarthy's unjust character assassination of a young man with, "You've done enough. Have you no sense of decency, sir? At long last, have you left no sense of decency?" The answer was apparently not.
To me, a cowardly act shows a lack of decency. In my life, I have been both a victim and a perpetrator of cowardly acts.
I am sorry for beating a dead horse, but I must bring up again the pretty blonde girl from Minetto (Sixteen Again and Sixteen Again RevisiTed). She believed I did something that hurt her in some way. Instead of confronting me with an explanation and a request for an apology, she committed a cowardly act by ignoring me forever. She showed me a lack of decency, which I deserved.
I am sorry a second time for beating another dead horse, but I must bring up again the Nameless Girl (and the Nameless Girl RevisiTed). I did not appreciate how she treated me. So, instead of confronting her with an explanation and a request she change her ways, I committed a cowardly act by ignoring her forever. (Did I learn that from the pretty blonde girl from Minetto?) I showed the Nameless Girl a lack of decency, which she deserved.
Let me mention a new person. One night my freshman year at Penn, the young men on the fifth floor of the Class of 1928 Dormitory invited women from the nursing school at the nearby Philadelphia General Hospital to a mixer.
There I met a very nice young woman who apparently thought I was a very nice young man. She wasn't beautiful, but she was cute with short curly brown hair. We spent virtually the whole mixer together, talking, drinking and eating. We ignored all others.
She was an athlete (played soccer) and a sports fan. How wonderful! When her curfew approached, I walked her back to her dormitory on 34th Street. She gave me her phone number and we kissed good night. I felt great. However, walking back to my dorm, I threw her phone number into a garbage bin on the street. I never called her, ever. What a dummy!
In the cold night air, I suddenly realized that our relationship had no long-term future since she wasn't Jewish. I could imagine the frowning faces of my parents at my considering (at 18 years of age) marrying a shiksa (50 years later, I married one). I committed a cowardly act by not giving her an explanation for my rude behavior.
Of course, I should have continued seeing her in spite of my parents. I was too young to be thinking about marriage. I showed the nice young woman a lack a decency, which she deserved, which everybody deserves.
Sunday, October 7, 2018
Vertigo
"Vertigo is a 1958 American film noir psychological thriller produced and directed by Alfred Hitchcock." It stars James Stewart, Kim Novak and Tom Helmore.
Vertigo the illness is "a sensation of whirling and loss of balance associated particularly with looking down from a great height." When I look down from our 11th floor terrace I feel a little queasy. Not exactly vertigo, however.
In Vertigo the movie, the above illness plays a significant role. Scottie (Stewart), a retired San Francisco police detective suffering from vertigo, is approached by Gavin (Helmore), an old college classmate, who wants him to follow his wife Madeleine (Novak) whom he says is suicidal.
However, the real reason is Gavin intends to murder his rich wife for her money. He hires Judy (also Novak) to impersonate his wife who then lures Scottie to follow her up a church bell tower south of the city which he will not be able to climb all the way because of his vertigo. When Judy reaches the top alone, Gavin throws down his already murdered real wife Madeleine making it look as though she committed suicide.
Scottie assumes the dead woman is the Madeleine he fell in love with (really Judy). Ridden with guilt at not preventing her "suicide," he suffers a mental breakdown from which it takes months to recover.
After he recuperates. Scottie is obsessed with the memory of Madeleine (really Judy), the woman he still loves. He spends much of his time at places where he remembers her being.
By shear luck, one day Scottie sees Judy walking down the street in her resumed life as an ordinary department store saleswoman. Although her hair and clothes are different, Scottie is attracted to her because of her striking similarity with Madeleine. Really?
Scottie follows Judy to her room at the Hotel Empire. (We stayed at this hotel when we visited San Francisco in 2008.) At first, she rejects his advances, but because she fell in love with Scottie while playing Madeleine, she agrees to spend time with him. Judy hopes Scottie will forget Madeleine and fall in love with her. But Scottie is obsessed with Madeleine and wants Judy to dress like her, color her hair like her and change her hair style to be like hers. As Scottie says to Judy, "It can't make that much difference to you." Really?
However, Judy makes one fatal mistake. She kept a souvenir of Madeleine's, a necklace she wore when previously with Scottie. When he sees it on her, he puts the puzzle together and realizes that Judy was Madeleine and that she and Gavin duped him regarding the murder of the real Madeleine.
With this knowledge, Scottie becomes very angry (maybe he should have been very happy the woman he loves is still alive) and drags Judy back to the church bell tower (late at night) and forces her, against her will, to climb it along with him. They go all the way to the top (Scottie conquers his vertigo), the point where Gavin threw the real Madeleine to her imagined "suicide."
Judy is frantic with fear because of Scottie's aggressive behavior. When she sees a dark figure (a nun dressed in a black habit) approaching from the shadows, she takes a step backwards and falls to her death.
I hate the above end of this otherwise wonderful movie. I know Judy is guilty of being an accomplice to a Gavin's murder of the real Madeleine, but I don't believe she deserves what happens to her. What about Gavin? He escaped to Europe with his wife's money.
Finally, I believe Scottie is to blame for Judy's death, forcing her to the top of the church bell tower, a dangerous place. He should be charged with criminally negligent manslaughter, death resulting from his serious recklessness.
Vertigo the illness is "a sensation of whirling and loss of balance associated particularly with looking down from a great height." When I look down from our 11th floor terrace I feel a little queasy. Not exactly vertigo, however.
In Vertigo the movie, the above illness plays a significant role. Scottie (Stewart), a retired San Francisco police detective suffering from vertigo, is approached by Gavin (Helmore), an old college classmate, who wants him to follow his wife Madeleine (Novak) whom he says is suicidal.
However, the real reason is Gavin intends to murder his rich wife for her money. He hires Judy (also Novak) to impersonate his wife who then lures Scottie to follow her up a church bell tower south of the city which he will not be able to climb all the way because of his vertigo. When Judy reaches the top alone, Gavin throws down his already murdered real wife Madeleine making it look as though she committed suicide.
Scottie assumes the dead woman is the Madeleine he fell in love with (really Judy). Ridden with guilt at not preventing her "suicide," he suffers a mental breakdown from which it takes months to recover.
After he recuperates. Scottie is obsessed with the memory of Madeleine (really Judy), the woman he still loves. He spends much of his time at places where he remembers her being.
By shear luck, one day Scottie sees Judy walking down the street in her resumed life as an ordinary department store saleswoman. Although her hair and clothes are different, Scottie is attracted to her because of her striking similarity with Madeleine. Really?
Scottie follows Judy to her room at the Hotel Empire. (We stayed at this hotel when we visited San Francisco in 2008.) At first, she rejects his advances, but because she fell in love with Scottie while playing Madeleine, she agrees to spend time with him. Judy hopes Scottie will forget Madeleine and fall in love with her. But Scottie is obsessed with Madeleine and wants Judy to dress like her, color her hair like her and change her hair style to be like hers. As Scottie says to Judy, "It can't make that much difference to you." Really?
However, Judy makes one fatal mistake. She kept a souvenir of Madeleine's, a necklace she wore when previously with Scottie. When he sees it on her, he puts the puzzle together and realizes that Judy was Madeleine and that she and Gavin duped him regarding the murder of the real Madeleine.
With this knowledge, Scottie becomes very angry (maybe he should have been very happy the woman he loves is still alive) and drags Judy back to the church bell tower (late at night) and forces her, against her will, to climb it along with him. They go all the way to the top (Scottie conquers his vertigo), the point where Gavin threw the real Madeleine to her imagined "suicide."
Judy is frantic with fear because of Scottie's aggressive behavior. When she sees a dark figure (a nun dressed in a black habit) approaching from the shadows, she takes a step backwards and falls to her death.
I hate the above end of this otherwise wonderful movie. I know Judy is guilty of being an accomplice to a Gavin's murder of the real Madeleine, but I don't believe she deserves what happens to her. What about Gavin? He escaped to Europe with his wife's money.
Finally, I believe Scottie is to blame for Judy's death, forcing her to the top of the church bell tower, a dangerous place. He should be charged with criminally negligent manslaughter, death resulting from his serious recklessness.
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