Week's End - John in Black & White

The Beatles are in the middle of recording Strawberry Fields Forever, when John makes a guest appearance in a sketch for the Peter Cook and Dudley Moore Christmas show of Not Only But Also... John plays the doorman of a 'members only' gents lavatory. The outside shots were filmed in Broadwick St, London W1. (from The Beatles/Unseen Archives, compiled by Tim Hill & Marie Clayton, Parragon Publishing, Bath, UK; my crummy scans from the book.)

I cannot find the photographer for these stills, so if anyone knows, let me know. We're lucky there's anything at all left of Not Only...because the BBC re-used so much film stock from it. (Though Peter Cook reportedly offered to pay for it). This was not John's first guest appearance on the show but the video available is the clearest for this sketch. He's quite funny in it, too. This bewilders many YouTube Youth. (Yes, actually. I can imagine John at 70.) (Update - click here for GG's post & the link to Imagine Peace website where you can leave birthday wishes.) Another update: From crivens, jings and help ma blog (yea, that's in Scotland:) - Alistair has posted a wonderful video of genius Peter Sellers interpreting A Hard Day's Night. If we couldn't laugh....

As Peter Cook would say, no matter the time, Good Evening.

Lemon-ism

Can I share with you my worldview? All of humankind has one thing in common: the sandwich. I believe that all anyone really wants in this life is to sit in peace and eat a sandwich.--Liz Lemon (Tina Fey) No. 16 on the funniest Liz Lemon-sims, here.

I had no idea that NBC's website was so amusingly interactive. Probably because MSNBC is trying to draw attention away from the fact that they are fomenting (I love that word) the leftist revolution that they hope to televise. Or something. Someone actually said this within my privacy-bubble-sandwich-consuming space. And I thought getting out to write was a good thing. Criminy.

(photograph of Liz via apartment therapy, she is pondering "decorganizing"; lemon girl by cig harvey via a cup of jo, via little sussy)

In Moments of Quiet

“Now, it isn’t that I don’t like you, Susan because after all, in moments of quiet, I’m strangely drawn towards you… but there haven’t been any quiet moments.” -Cary Grant as Dr. David Huxley, Bringing Up Baby, 1938

Several boyfriends know just how Cary feels. (They're still my friends, though. I think that speaks well of me. And Julie is nothing like that naughty Baby.) Only Cary could look handsome wearing Kate Hepburn's clothes.

I had photographs of people running, but nothing quite does it today. I'm running only in my mind. I was an unofficial cop (again!) on Saturday, feeling tottery, & in clothes not fit to be seen - maybe even by Julie the Cat. I stayed up too late rereading Enduring Love because Marie-Laure at AUREA is reading it & I wanted to discuss it with someone. This completely undid the relaxation of re-watching Annie Hall.

And (her voice rising), I'm being tempted by a friend: Do you want your birthday gift on Wednesday or on your birthday? Oh no. Decisions. Could you resist this? "I battled Huns, Goths, Mongols, Vikings, Zulus, Picts, and Celts...at...to...obtain.."

So, I'm posting dumber stuff than usual for a week if you want to skip checking in. I need to maintain a schedule & this is why I'm not 'gone fishing'. As always, there are good links here & on Giulia Geranium. I've seen so many good posts today & over the weekend that if I link to them, the feedburner thingy will blow up both blogs.

(But I recommend checking out the Truthiness Rally - or Operation Strike of Truthiness--this is a fluid story-- by Stephen Colbert fans. It really does help to laugh. Aussie & European friends, it really is funny & not just American. Friends in Turkey & elsewhere who can't understand English, if you're translating this, facial expressions are funny, too. As evidenced by the film stills above.)

Cheers & I'll do better tomorrow. Really.

[photograph via many tumblrs, here]

Week's End - Pip Pip Cheerio

Feeling rather drama-queen tragic. Therefore these Jeeves & Wooster photographs to deflate such idiocy. The second one is on the beach in Cornwall (which is becoming a sub-theme here). Back home tomorrow - I hope to a new bathroom. There are more Jeeves & Wooster DVDs in the mail box, courtesy of the Netflix Fairy. I've been quite entertained the last week by old (but still relevant) podcasts by Stephen Fry (via iTunes). Here's Stephen's website which is great fun. Yes, I follow him on Twitter.

I'll be by to visit people over the next few days & to respond to comments. Moving slowly lately. Toodles.

[Jeeves & Wooster images via tumblrs aplenty, here]

A Redheaded Woman

Maureen Dowd (a redhead) wrote a terrific column last week about the death of the grown-up romantic comedy. She has an email give & take with Sam Wasson, the 28-year-old author of Fifth Avenue, 5 A.M., the best seller about the making of Breakfast at Tiffany’s. I agree that the stupid movies probably confuse younger people a lot. Too close an inspection of many cupcake & pink unicorn blogs is worrying. Infantilization--especially when you do it to yourself for cryin' out loud--ain't (grown-up) sexy. Here's a bit of what Sam has to say:

"I am not joking when I say that because there is nothing to see (especially, and tragically, in romantic comedy) my girlfriend and I have had to stay home and in some cases fight. If there were better movies out there, I am sure so many relationship disasters may have been averted. Also, romantic comedies, the good ones, taught me how to love, or at least instructed me on how to try. If I were falling in love now for the first time and going to see this garbage thinking this was real, I would be in deep [expletive]. It was only after I saw ‘Annie Hall’ as a wee Jew that I realized what it was to be a person in love. It has been a touchstone ever since." Really, you need to read the column, here.*

Today I thought good thoughts about all the (many) redheads in my family, friends, former colleagues, actresses, a great singer-song writer (who inspired the song), & a columnist for the NYTimes. If you choose to be a redhead, I salute you & welcome to the club. My hair hasn't been red-red in quite awhile, but most people still think of me as one. Here are a few for some Sunday fun. (Sadly none are of friends or family -- or me -- because I Have Yet To Scan, But I Promise To. Really.) ciao-for-now

*PS: And now, I'll add a redheaded man to the list; as much as he has peeved so many of us, Woody Allen did write & make Annie Hall.

Update - a few people have emailed, what the hell? So here's part of the song:

A red headed woman
It takes a red headed woman
To get a dirty job done -Mr. Springsteen

[photographs via verdoux, myvintagevogue, AMC. There were others I liked but wow, tumblrs that I won't name because they are not sexy, they are gross.Ooof. See? These people don't know the difference.]

Good Evening, Bedazzler

Stanley Moon: Apart from the way He moves, what's God really like? I mean, what colour is He?

George Spiggott (Devil): He's all colours of the rainbow, many-hued.
Stanley Moon: But He is English, isn't He?
George Spiggott (Devil): Oh yes. Very upper class.

Peter Cook as the Devil (of course), Dudley Moore as poor little Stanley. There are so many funny scenes, but the quote above because I was a religion major undergraduate, descended from, um, people who are (still) annoyed with the English upper class, etc. Here he is, up to "routine mischief"(it's his job, remember) & his explanation re: Fall from Grace.

Here's a link to the hilarious b&w sequence with Cook as Drimble Wedge, top pop star, filling girls with squeals of delight as he drones on with cold, mean, & dismissive statements. To the utter bewilderment of Dudley Moore's Stanley-as-singer.

Good evening.

[Peter Cook wearing very cool specs via 24media tumblr]

Update-If the blog looks weirder than usual, I'm trying to reinsert Googley Analytics properly. I know that this blog isn't up there with the big dudes, but it is surprisingly well visited. Since changing the template, I have been informed by a computer analysis that no one has visited. Not even the people who have commented. Ahem.

The Wind Blows

You don’t need a weatherman
To know which way the wind blows...Subterranean Homesick Blues

It nearly blew me right off my feet. The wind is howling, though it could be the shrieks of villagers with pitchforks & torches.

Good night!

[Photograph via bohemea ]

Week's End - Poet's Day

When I last left here, I said I didn't envision myself as Milton Berle. I still don't. There's a funny photograph in the LIFE archives of Uncle Miltie, asleep with a mask on. I was being literal. My sleep mask is navy blue silk, if you must know. Sequin-free. Julie the Cat would surely spend hours prying them off anyway.

Where to begin. Week has been weird, weekend forecasts more of the same. I've tons of beautiful photographs but I cannot bring myself to use them now. Perversely, I have to go with these two wackidoodles.

First, in what state of lunacy/inebriation did a Pond's executive say, "Yes! A nightie-wearing, corsage-sporting gal sitting with a kitten...juxtaposed in front of a photo of the Colosseum....yes yes it's genius!" Perhaps it did sell tons of night cream. Hey, I can't claim it wouldn't work on me...though the Colosseum. Egad. But as a sign of Rome for Americans, sigh, I guess. Perhaps this was from the beginning of the la dolce vita period. I bet that's it. Otherwise, they would've tried a Parisian theme. No way am I "researching" this now. [advert from Jesssica aka myvintagevogue's flickrstream; she has a new website in progress & that is great news.]

Before you say, no ad guy would use "juxtaposed"...yes, they would. Art & literature majors were in that business. My parents had many friends in advertising...all with excellent personal vocabularies. They were terribly ambivalent (or hating) about the business. Wonder what they think of Mad Men. I suspect quite conflicted. As my mother says about the 1950s...it wasn't that Happy.

Second. I know he was a decidedly troubled & difficult man, but we didn't have to put up with it. We (the audience) got the best of him. Peter Sellers in a rare photo (via scan from The Hollywood Cats book, of Catapalooza-in-DC fame). From the British film, The Wrong Box. The text says..."In this comedy about inheritance, Peter Sellers played the mad surgeon Dr. Pratt, his office overrun by kittens. As one cat sits in the surgical bowl, the doctor contemplates the phony death certificate he's just made out for Michael Caine."

Of course, he played a mad surgeon named Pratt...what else?

Off to walk in the warmish DC weather (with my hat on!)...hope it's warm (or warming up) where you are...& I can't help myself. I have to say it, though it's not "mine." You naughty cheeky monkeys!