Best of Intentions, Chapter 9

In July of 1940, Ben travels from Oswego to the New York Municipal Airport to greet Rita and her cousin, Maria, who is on her first visit to the Big Apple.  He carries flowers for both women. Ben and Rita embrace.  

"It's been a long time, Rita." 

"I missed you, Ben.  I'd like you to meet my cousin, Maria."

"A pleasure, Maria.  Welcome to New York."

The next couple of days are a whirlwind of activities, including trips to the Statue of Liberty, Times Square, Central Park, Yankee Stadium, and the Opera House.  Before retiring for bed at their hotel on the third night, Rita and Maria have a heart to heart.

"Tomorrow, Ben and I are going to Oswego to have some time alone.  There we can find out about each other." 

"Are you sure you know what you are doing?"

"I know what I am doing.  But, you must never let Miguel know about this."

"I love you, Rita, and I trust you.  Ben is a kind man and I want you to be a happy woman, which you haven't been for many years. When your husband died, a bit of you died as well.  It seems with Ben you have been reborn."

"Ben makes me want to live again, not just go through the motions.  A couple of days in Oswego will tell me what I need to know."

"Go with God, Rita."  They embrace.

Early the following morning, Rita and Ben enter Grand Central Station and board a train for Oswego.  A number of hours later they arrive at the train station on West Utica Street, near the high school.  Ben walks Rita to his car parked in the station's lot.  They drive across the Utica Street Bridge (over the Oswego River) and turn left at East Third Street.  When they reach East Oneida Street, Ben parks the car in front of his modest white house on the corner.  Before entering, Maria and Ben cross the street to pray at the Catholic church in the East Side Park.

Ben gives Rita a quick tour of his house.  On the main floor is a living room, dining room and kitchen.  They climb the stairs to the second floor where Ben's bedroom is.  

After having seen the house, Rita says, "It's nice and cozy."

"You mean it's a dump."

"No.  I like it."

"My ex-wife, Paula, gets all the credit.  She decorated the house. After the divorce, she didn't want to live here anymore, so I got everything and I've changed nothing."

Rita notices the closed door of a room on the second floor overlooking the street.

"What room is that?"

"Nobody's," says Ben, suddenly solemn.  Then, quickly recovering, he asks, "Are you hungry?"

"Sure."

"I know the perfect place.  Let's go."

Back in his car, they drive down East Oneida Street past the public library.  Ben turns right on East First Street and then left on East Bridge Street.  Passing over a second bridge over the same river, Rita gets a good view of Lake Ontario to her right.  After traveling along several blocks of the commercial district on the west side of town, Ben turns right so Rita can see the park located nearby. There, he drives past, without noticing, Paula who is walking her beagle. However, his ex-wife notices Ben with an unknown woman by his side.  Her eyes follow the car until it disappears from her view.      

  

Ides of March

My first experience with a foreign language was my mother's mother tongue, Yiddish.  As her parents were immigrants whose language was Yiddish, that was the language they taught her when she was a child growing up in their house.  English would come later, especially at public school.  

When I was growing up in my mother's house, I heard a smattering of Yiddish, especially when my parents wanted to communicate in front of us children without our understanding. The word I especially remember is "kleyner," which means "little one," which was how my mother often referred to me when I was young.  The culture of the period when my mother raised her children discouraged speaking a foreign language, a sign of not being 100% American.  So, my mother didn't pass Yiddish on to the next generation. What a pity!

As a Jewish child, I was sent to Hebrew School to learn about our family's religion.  There I was taught Hebrew, but only how to read and speak the words in the prayers.  "Barukh attah Adonai."  I remember asking my teacher what the Hebrew words meant in English.  He said it was not important for us to understand what the words meant, but God would.  Bad answer!

In 1959, I entered the ninth grade at Kingsford Park School and was required to take first year Latin.  It was exciting to finally learn a foreign language.  "Agricolae amat puella."  The following year at Oswego High School, I was offered the choice of taking second year Latin or first year French.  Being a lazy student, I opted for the former hoping I could get away with only two years of a foreign language, the minimum requirement for most colleges. However, my mother noted they preferred a third year.  She and I had a big fight about this and of course I lost.  I had to take third year Latin as well.

My Latin teacher at OHS was Mrs. (Ruth) Young.  As she was the youngest and prettiest of my teachers, I probably had a small crush on her.  Our first year together we got along great.  I was one of the best students in her class.  Besides learning the Latin language, we studied Roman culture and history.  I remember that in the Roman calendar, the fifteenth of each month was referred to as the "Ides." This past Wednesday was the Ides of March.  In 44 B.C., Roman Emperor Julius Caesar was assassinated on the Ides of March.  In William Shakespeare's play, Julius Caesar, the soothsayer warned him, "Beware of the Ides of March."

In my second year with Mrs. Young (third year Latin), as a sign of a silent protest, I basically studied just enough to pass. She noticed a difference in my attitude.  One day after class, Mrs. Young confronted me.  She asked how I was doing in my other classes.  I responded that I was an A student in Intermediate Algebra, Physics, and American History, with a B in English.  She asked why then was I barely getting a C in her class.  I said, "I don't know, Mrs. Young." But, I did.

With three years of Latin in high school, I was exempted from having to study a foreign language at Penn.  How unfortunate!  I remember one of my freshman roommates elected to take first year Russian.  Currently, at least one year of a foreign language is a requirement for a student at Penn's Wharton School.  

As a young adult, my ex-wife, Bonita, and I signed up for French classes at the Alliance Francaise in New York City.  We had a fantasy of living in France for a while.  My first course was great.  I learned how to say, "Paris est la capitale de la France."  The second course was more difficult.  The third was a horror as the teacher refused to accept questions in English nor respond in English.  I was lost and I quit.  

In 1998, I was browsing through a copy of the Village Voice, a newspaper I never read, neither before nor after that day.  I saw an advertisement for private Portuguese classes offered by a Brazilian teacher, Natalia Gedanke.  After a couple of business trips to Brazil, I had a curiosity about the Portuguese language.  There was no commitment beyond one lesson.  She came for that first class at my office.  It was great.  We continued for five years, eventually moving the weekly classes to her apartment on Pineapple Street in Brooklyn, near the Promenade.

So, here I am today, almost twenty years later, living in Sao Paulo, Brazil, speaking Portuguese with my wife, Cristina, her mother, Irene, and many other Brazilians.  "Bom dia.  Como vai?  Tudo bem?"  My fluency is getting better and better.  I think Mrs. Young would be proud of me.         

  

Michigan

Yesterday, Saturday, March 11, 2017, the University of Michigan Wolverines hosted the University of Pennsylvania Quakers in men's lacrosse at Michigan Stadium, otherwise known as "The Big House," in Ann Arbor, Michigan.  The home team won, 13 to 12. Over the years, the two schools have rarely competed in intercollegiate sports.  Yesterday was an exception.  However, back in the academic year 1962-1963, they competed in one of the most important competitions of my life.

The above academic year was my senior year at Oswego High School.  No longer needing to study either American History or Latin, my academic load was minimal.  That allowed me to concentrate on my college applications to Cornell, Harvard, Brown, Georgia Tech, Case Tech, Brandeis, Penn, and Michigan.  

I believe in visiting a college before applying to it.  That way, a student can get a sense about whether they would fit in or not.  I recall my brother Joel's first time at Dartmouth College was his arrival as a freshman in September of 1950 when I was only five years-old.

My parents were not believers in college visits.  Of the eight colleges I applied to, I had only visited two prior to sending out my applications. The first was Penn, my brother Paul's alma mater.  I especially remember Thanksgiving of 1958 when we attended the annual home game against Cornell, which the Big Red won, 19-7.

In the spring of 1962, my parents and I drove from Oswego to East Lansing, Michigan to visit my brother Ted who was a student there at Michigan State University.  I convinced my parents to pass through nearby Ann Arbor to check out the University of Michigan.  As I recall, we just drove through the campus.  The only stop we made was in front of Michigan Stadium, which I briefly entered.  I was impressed with what I saw of the university.

In the fall of 1962, after all my applications had been mailed, I received a thin yellow envelope, the return address of which was from the University of Michigan.  Later, I learned that thin envelopes were usually bad news, containing quick matter-of-fact rejection letters.  I received one from both Harvard and Brown. However, without any worry, I opened the above envelope which contained the excellent news that I had been accepted to the freshman class at the University of Michigan.  More information would be forthcoming in future larger envelopes.

As Michigan was the first of the eight to respond, I felt joy at having somewhere to go the following year when I would be a high school graduate and free of my mother's very strict rules.  I was going to Michigan.  I was going to be a Wolverine.  I was going to wear the maize and blue.  I would sing "Hail to the Victors."

However, the following March (1963), I received a second such envelope, this one a very thick white one from the University of Pennsylvania which announced my acceptance into its freshman class.  Penn had been my first choice.  Because of my brother Paul, I knew so much more about Penn than any of the other five that accepted me.  I also liked that it was located in a big city, Philadelphia, which appealed to me after my years in small town Oswego.  I wanted to experience how the other half lived.  Ann Arbor was a college town, with a population then of only about 67,000, a larger version of Oswego.  

Well, as everyone should know by now, I went to Penn and am happy I did.  I got a great education and am a proud alumnus.  

However, in the summer of 1967, after my Penn graduation, I moved to suburban Detroit, Michigan where my brother Ted was living.  As a result, I met my first wife, Bonita, who was then a senior at the University of Michigan.  During the time we dated, I spent a lot of time on the campus and in the city of Ann Arbor.  We went to a football game in September at the Big House, where Michigan defeated Duke University, a school I would become familiar with forty years later when I lived in central North Carolina.  The score was 10-7.

During Thanksgiving week of 1991, my family and I were visiting Bonita's relatives in suburban Detroit.  I convinced my teenage daughter, Rachel, it would be a good idea to take a tour of the nearby University of Michigan campus.  Unfortunately, it was a very cold day.  Every time, we moved outdoors, Rachel asked when we could go back inside.  I was convinced she would never go to Michigan.

However, the next September (1992), a friend invited Rachel to a football weekend at Michigan.  She loved it and applied to be a Wolverine.  She was accepted and matriculated there the following September of 1993.  

In November of 1993, Bonita, my son, Bret, and I traveled to Ann Arbor for Parent's Weekend.  Bret and I went to a football game at the Big House against Purdue, which Michigan won, 25-10.  In October of 1994, the three of us returned again to visit Rachel. Bret and I sat in the student section for the Michigan State game, which Michigan won, 40-20.  Unfortunately, all the students stood the whole game, which was bad for Bret and me.

In December of 1994, Penn's men's basketball team visited Crisler Arena in Ann Arbor to play Michigan.  Rachel was at the game, while Bret and I watched on TV from our home in New York. Penn won this time, 62-60.    

It was in Rachel's senior year that I got a chance to attend some classes at Michigan.  One was a lecture about the Vietnam War, which I recalled from my youth.  In a second class, in which both Rachel and I were present (but not sitting together), her professor discussed the civil rights struggle of the 1960s, which I also remembered vividly.  I was an active participant in that class.

In April of 1967, we returned to the Big House for Rachel's graduation.  I was a proud Michigan parent.  

I recently had a dream I was a student at Michigan where I met three of my old friends from Oswego.  Strange!

Perhaps the next generation of my family will return to study at the University of Michigan. That would be great.               





          

Elmer Gantry

Burt Lancaster was one of a handful of male movie stars who served as role models for me when I was a young boy.  He was strong, virile, and courageous.  I wish I could have been more like him in my youth.  

I remember watching Burt Lancaster at the Oswego Theater in The Flame and the Arrow (1950), The Crimson Pirate (1952), South Sea Woman (1953), Vera Cruz (1954), Trapeze (1956), Gunfight at the O.K. Corral (1957), Run Silent, Run Deep (1958), and Judgment at Nuremberg (1961).  Elsewhere, I saw him in Seven Days in May (1964), The Train (1964), and The Professionals (1966).

Burt Lancaster was born in his parents' house at 209 East 106th Street in the Borough of Manhattan in New York City on November 2, 1913.  After being a gymnast at DeWitt Clinton High School, he developed skills as an acrobat and joined the Kay Brothers Circus.  Lancaster enlisted in the U.S. Army at the beginning of WWII, after which he returned to New York and took up acting. After performing in only one stage play that lasted just three weeks, he attracted the attention of a Hollywood movie agent, Harold Hecht, with whom he later formed a production company (see May 1, 2016 blog post -- Marty the Movie).

Burt Lancaster's first film, The Killers (1946), is a classic example of film noir and effectively launched his career as a movie star.  In it, he portrays The Swede, a man whom two professional killers are sent to murder.  As Lancaster said in the film, "I did something wrong...once."  Even though he was rubbed out early in the movie (based on a short story written by Ernest Hemingway), he is the leading man (opposite the glamorous Ava Gardner) and appears in the rest of the film in numerous flashbacks.

Burt Lancaster was nominated three times for the Academy Award for Best Actor, but lost: From Here to Eternity (1953 - losing to William Holden in Stalag 17 - see blog post of 4/2/16), Birdman of Alcatraz (1962 - losing to Gregory Peck in To Kill a Mockingbird), and Atlantic City (1981 - losing to Henry Fonda in On Golden Pond).  However, in 1960, he won his Academy Award for Best Actor as Elmer Gantry.

Elmer Gantry, the movie, was written and directed by Richard Brooks.  Besides Burt Lancaster, it starred Jean Simmons and Shirley Jones.  In addition to the above Academy Award, Jones won an Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress and Brooks won an Academy Award for Best Writing (Screenplay - based on material from another medium - book written by Sinclair Lewis).  The film was also nominated for the Academy Award for Best Picture but lost to The Apartment (see my blog post, Shut Up and Deal, January 1, 2017).

   

The character Elmer Gantry "is a hard-drinking, fast talking traveling salesman with a charismatic personality."  One day in the late 1920s, he enters the tent of the traveling evangelist, Sister Sharon Falconer (Simmons).  Gantry is attracted to her and uses his cunning to join her entourage.  He eventually becomes her confidante and lover.  Falconer's rise to the top of her profession is shattered when Gantry is blackmailed by a prostitute (Jones) who was his former lover.  Everything Falconer and Gantry worked for comes crashing down when their tent becomes engulfed in flames.

         

My favorite scene in the movie is when Gantry confronts Sharon about his true feelings for her.

Gantry:  You wouldn’t know the truth if it bit you.  It’s you I want, Sharon.  No one else.  I want you so bad, I’m in pain half the time.  I would like to tear those holy wings off you and make a real woman out of you.  I’d show you what heaven was like.  No golden stairways or harp music or silvery clouds.  Just ecstacy!  Coming and going!

Sharon:  Do you really think I’m competing for your glorious body?

Gantry:  You’re damn right you are.  Every woman competes with every other woman for every man.  The truth, Sharon.  You want it.  You want it just as much as I do.  You want it with me.  When are you going to make up your mind to take it? 

Sadly, Burt Lancaster died on October 20, 1994 (at age 80) as a result of his third heart attack.  His body was cremated and, at his request, there was no funeral nor memorial service (all similar to my brother Ted).        

    

                

Best of Intentions, Chapter 8

The day after Christmas 1939 finds Ben, Rita, Miguel and Betty at a busy outdoor market near Rita's house in Mexico City.  The Americans are shopping for presents and souvenirs.  They split into two groups, Ben and Rita go off one way, leaving Betty and Miguel alone.  There are many shops to visit and many people fill the area.

Suddenly, Miguel and Betty meet up with Raquel, Miguel's very attractive local girlfriend, who's not pleased to see Miguel with another woman.  Raquel and Miguel converse in Spanish which Betty, of course, doesn't understand.

"Raquel, what a nice surprise.  How are you?"

"I've been calling you for days and you've been ignoring me."

"I'm sorry.  I've been at my sister's for Christmas."

"Really?  I know this woman is not your sister."

Betty is not happy at being virtually ignored by the other two, especially as she doesn't understand Spanish.  She forces herself into the conversation.

"Hi.  My name's Betty.  And you?"

Ignoring Betty, Raquel responds to Miguel again in Spanish.

"A gringa.  What are you up to?  You don't return my calls.  You tell me you're at your sister's.  And now you're here in the market holding hands with this puta."

Betty responds, "Excuse me, missy.  I may not speak Spanish, but I know a few words.  And I'm not going to take that from some spic bitch."

Raquel, finally turning to Betty, responds in English, "Repeat that, you cunt, and I'll rip every strand of your fake blonde hair out of your head."

The two women are virtually nose to nose in mutual dislike.  A crowd gathers to witness the spectacle about to occur.  Miguel acts fast grabbing Betty's arm, pulling her away and out of danger.

When they reach Rita's house, Miguel pushes Betty into her bedroom and closes the door.

Miguel raises his voice, "Who the hell do you think you are using that awful word, spic?  I know she wasn't polite, but you've no right to say it.  That word refers to all of us, me, Rita, everyone here in Mexico.  I won't accept it."

"I can't believe you're defending her.  She called me puta and I'm the one at fault."

"I guess I don't know you, Betty.  I didn't realize you are a bigot."

"A bigot?  You're crazy.  I can't be a bigot.  I'm Jewish."

Later, Ben is in his bedroom organizing everything he bought at the market when there is a knock on the door.

 

"Come in," says Ben.  The last person he expected is Betty.

"I've got to talk to someone or I'll go mad.  You're elected."

"What's the matter?"

"I got into a fight with Miguel.  He called me a bigot.  Can you believe that?  Me, Betty Sobel."

"What happened?"

"We ran into his spic girlfriend at the market and..."

"Please don't say that.  I care a lot about Rita and her brother and all the other people I've met here and that's an ugly word."

"No, I didn't mean Rita or Miguel.  I was talking about this woman who called me puta."

"That was wrong, but what you said was insulting to a whole people, not just that woman.  You should apologize to Miguel."

"I can't believe this.  I thought I'd at least get some sympathy from a fellow-American, but I was wrong."

The following day, the four are back at the airport for Ben and Betty's return trip to New York City.  Betty and Miguel haven't spoken since their fight.  Meanwhile, Ben and Rita are having difficulty facing their impending separation.  They sit side by side, holding hands, waiting for the inevitable announcement to board the plane.

 

Rita, with tears in her eyes, says, "I'll miss you very much.  These days have touched me.  I feel alive again...for the first time since my husband died.  When will I see you again?"

"I feel the same.  I've been alone for too long...since my...  Come to New York again next summer, for the opera and baseball."

"It's a date."

A few days later, on New Year's Eve, a party is in full swing at the White House in Washington, D.C.  General Wharton and Secretary of War Stimson are having a private conversation while drinking whiskey.

General Wharton says, "I think the president should know about Karchevsky.  I got this from very good sources and it could be dangerous."

"It's hard to believe.  Mexico financing something of that significance, right under our noses.  The President won't be easily persuaded."

"It's his call, but first he's got to have the facts and it's your job to give it to him."

"I'll give it to him when the time is right.  But for now, he has a lot on his plate.  In the mean time, your people need to stay on top of this."

 

   

 

Narcos

Narcos, the Netflix series which, in its first two seasons, tells the story of the late Colombian drug lord, Pablo Escobar, and his fight against the Columbian government.  He is portrayed by the excellent Brazilian actor, Wagner Moura.  Narcos reminds me of many similar stories of organized criminals, such as the 1987 movie, The Untouchables, starring Kevin Costner, Robert De Niro, and Sean Connery, which is about the federal government's fight against Al Capone during the Prohibition era in Chicago.

When I was watching Narcos, I came to see Escobar as a businessman, selling a product (cocaine), albeit an illegal one, that had a huge demand.  He was making so much money it was difficult for him to deal with the amount of cash pouring in.  In spite of the public's demand for cocaine, governments around the world, especially in Colombia and the USA, deem it to be illegal.  Should governments mandate what is in the best interests of their citizens?  Maybe sugar should be illegal?

I worked for a company (see my blog post of 03/20/2016 - JES) that, during a period of time before my employment, sold an illegal product, alcohol.  Then the government changed its mind and it became legal.  Alcohol and cocaine have something in common.  They are both drugs.  So, why is one legal and the other illegal.  It is what some call "line drawing."

The character, Walter White, in the American Movie Classic (AMC) series, Breaking Bad, discusses this subject with his brother-in-law, a Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA) agent, who gave him a confiscated Cuban cigar.  Walter, on the other hand, is secretly engaged in the manufacture of methamphetamine, an illegal drug.  "It's funny isn't it how we draw that line - what's legal, what's illegal - Cuban cigars, alcohol.  You know, if we were drinking this (whiskey) in 1930, we would be breaking the law.  In another year, it would be okay.  Who knows what will be legal next year.  It's arbitrary."  

Marijuana, another drug, is currently going through a transformation from illegal to legal.  A number of years ago, it was discovered that the use of this drug can "treat disease or improve symptoms."  Hence, in a number of states we now have what is referred to as "medical marijuana."  If you can get a doctor to write you a prescription, you can legally buy and use it.  Furthermore, a number of states now permit the recreational use of marijuana.

It is hopeless to believe the police can win the so-called "War on Drugs" since so many citizens are willing to violate the law.  I remember an old expression, "If one person breaks the law, put him in jail; if everyone breaks the law, change the law."  Better to end the war and try to regulate such drugs similar to alcohol and tobacco. 

From a positive point of view, this change from illegal to legal frees up the use of the police to fight other types of violent crime, such as murders and robberies unrelated to illegal drugs.   Additionally, the newly legalized drug companies would then be able to utilize the justice system to enforce their rights under the law without resort to violence.

From a negative point of view, there will be abuse of a newly legalized drug.  However, our society has been dealing with similar abuse regarding alcohol and tobacco for some time.  Such abuse is inevitable.  Some adult human beings are susceptible to making poor choices.  This is part of living in a free society.        

    

Breakfast at Tiffany's

Even before you see anything at the beginning of this classic 1961 film, you start to hear the Academy Award winning music from the song, Moon River, written by Henry Mancini.  Then a yellow cab comes into view driving north on an empty Fifth Avenue (it became a one way street going south in 1966) in New York City early one morning.  After driving past the Bonwit Teller Building, it pulls up in front of 727 Fifth Avenue, which would become, in 1983, the next door neighbor of Trump Tower, the current home of the President of the United States (when not at the White House).  Then and now this is the address of Tiffany & Co., the world famous luxury jewelry store.

Stepping out of the cab is the beautiful actress, Audrey Hepburn, wearing a black, floor-length, sleeveless gown, with matching gloves.  She is also wearing multiple strings of pearls around her neck and has a tiara in her hair.  There are sunglasses covering her eyes and a white scarf draped over her arm.  Audrey walks (in high-heel shoes) over to one of the Tiffany display windows where she opens a small paper bag she is carrying which contains a cup (styrofoam) of coffee and what appears to be danish pastry.  This is her Breakfast at Tiffany's.

Very early in the film, we are unfortunately introduced to a character called Mr. Yunioshi, a Japanese man living in New York, portrayed by the famous actor, Mickey Rooney, who is not Japanese.  He "wore makeup and a prosthetic mouthpiece to change his features to a caricatured approximation of a Japanese person." 

What was especially unfortunate about this portrayal is that Mr. Yunioshi is a bumbling, laughable character.  For a white man to portray a Japanese in this manner is comparable to a white man portraying a shuffling black man while in black face.
  

In 2006, the film's producer, Richard Shepherd, said "If we could just change Mickey Rooney, I'd be thrilled with the movie."  Director Blake Edwards stated, "Looking back, I wish I had never done it...and I would give anything to be able to recast it."  In 2008, Rooney said if he had known his performance would be considered offensive, "I wouldn't have done it."

In 1961, a white actor portraying a Japanese character in a comical, caricatured manner was considered perfectly acceptable.  What was there to complain about?  More than fifty years later, society has changed and complaints arise.

I have included below some other examples regarding the casting of Japanese ethnic roles in films in that era.  The great actor Marlon Brando portrays an Okinawan in the 1956 film, The Teahouse of the August Moon, with the help of make-up.  In the 1961 film version of the musical, Flower Drum Song, which is about the Chinese community in San Francisco, one of the stars, Miyoshi Umeki, was Japanese, not Chinese.  On the other hand, in the 1957 film, The Bridge Over the River Kwai, Sessue Hayakawa, a Japanese actor, portrays a Japanese character.   

As you can see from my limited analysis above, Hollywood in the 1950s and 1960s was not always particular about correctly casting Asian actors to be Asian characters in films.  (See my blog post of 9/3/2016 - William Holden)  Regarding the future, I'm optimistic we'll never see anything like Mr. Yunioshi again, thank goodness.