Some Like It Hot, and It Should Happen To You

Yesterday was Independence Day here in the U. S. of A.

One thing I don't think I've ever mentioned here before is that I'm actually fairly patriotic about my country. Basically, I think the US is a pretty good place and I basically appreciate what it stands for. Of course, what it stands for varies from person to person even inside the US, and many people outside the US I know see it as a symbol for very different things. Still, there's not much I can do about that.

One thing I have done is hung a United States flag in my apartment. In Madison it was in my living room, while in California it's over my bed. It gets some interesting responses from time to time. Some folks have found it strange that it's over my bed, although that's for purely practical reasons: Here in earthquakeland, I didn't want to hang a picture or something there that might fall and hurt me during a tremor. The flag is tacked to the wall with pushpins.

Other folks have asked if I plan to start stockpiling weapons and ammunition at some point. The answer is no, of course (I don't own a gun and am a proponent of gun licensing and control). But this question in particular goes to the heart of why I have a flag on my wall: In the 1980s, the conservative Republicans did everything in their power to co-opt the flag as their symbol and their alone, and it's come to stand in the minds of many people - not only conservatives - for conservative values. I, of course, am not a conservative, and I feel it's important for liberal patriots to demonstrate that The US's symbols stand for our values, too. Indeed - and I recognize that this is exactly the viewpoint that the conservatives have - I believe it stands for out values more than for conservative values, inasmuch as the US's greatest triumphs have been more a triumph of forward-looking, liberal, evolutionary values than of anything else.

I think that any liberal who believes that the US does or should represent their values should have a flag displayed in their home. Not that they must; if they don't want to, that's up to them. But I think it's a good symbol to have and a good message to send by displaying it.

So that's why I have a flag on my wall. The flag was made for me by my ex-girlfriend, Colleen, who was quite good at designing and sewing things. I guess I've had it for six years now.

One last note: I've never burned a flag, and don't plan to, but I think that the right to burn an American flag in protest - or for any other reason - is the essential freedom which represents why I like the United States. It's the litmus test. And I think that anyone who believes in making flag-burning a crime doesn't understand what makes the freedoms we have here valuable.

The traditional Independence Day festivities (I guess I'm writing this mainly for my international readers, now that I think about it) are a barbecue and fireworks. Why? I don't know. I think the fireworks are symbolic of the battle about which our national anthem, "The Star Spangled Banner", was written. (Contrary to the opinion of many, I kind of like our anthem. It's not riveting music, and I don't go along with the ceremony of putting my hand over my heart when it's played, but I think it's effective at expressing what an anthem should express.)

So today I met Debbi at her friend Lisa's apartment and we headed over to the apartment of a fellow named Greg for a barbecue. Greg turns out to be an old friend of Yvette's, who is one of the crowd at Subrata's Wednesday gaming night, so that's why we went there. I got to meet Subrata's girlfriend Susan, whom he's been seeing for a couple of months. She seems intelligent and irreverent, which is pretty much what I'd expect!

It's been brutally hot the last few days during the day - San Jose got up over 100 at least once - but today it started clouding over and cooled up nicely by mid-afternoon, which made it a nice lazy afternoon to hang out. I'd picked up some steaks for Debbi and myself, and we also brought some pineapple chunks and some vanilla cream soda. We kept talking about playing games, but didn't get around to it during the afternoon.

Debbi had to leave early, though. She had a good excuse: She left last night to go back to Massachusetts to visit her family! Lisa went with her, so the two of them will be bumming around the Boston area for a while, and then later on Debbi's going to the christening of her new niece. I think she's pretty excited about it; she's been in "vacation mode" since the weekend, which is a feeling I can understand.

Shortly after Debbi left, we decided to go to Shoreline Park to see the fireworks they shoot there every year. We went last year and had a fun and relaxing time. This year wasn't as much fun: The ground was damp, so many of us ended up with damp butts despite the blankets we'd brought. The fireworks didn't start 'til well after dark, and were not terribly impressive - especially not in contrast to Tuesday's show after the A's game. So I was a bit disappointed. And then we spent an hour sitting in traffic waiting to get out. We all had a decent enough time hanging out with the crowd, but despite the better view this year, I thought last year was more fun.

By the way, Cindy put up some good photos of fireworks where she lives. My photos of things like that never turn out at all well.

The Stanford Theatre finally wrapped up several months of old musicals, which I basically had no interest in, and are now showing a month of movies starring Jack Lemmon, who died last week. Somewhat to everyone's surprise, I've never seen any of his films, so I hope to see many of them this month. Mostly I'm just glad that the Stanford is showing films I want to see again. It's been a while, and it's the best movie value in the area.

Tonight the double feature kicked off with Some Like It Hot (1959), starring Lemmon and Tony Curtis as a bassist and sax player in 1929 Chicago who are down on their luck and have to get out of town when they witness a gangland execution by local big man Spats Colombo (George Raft). To do so, they dress up as a pair of women and join an all-girl band heading to Florida to play for the rich folks at a swank hotel. On the train ride, they meet the curvaceous-but-not-too-bright Sugar Cane (Marilyn Monroe - this is the first film I've seen with her, too) for whom they both fall. In Florida, the story revolves around Curtis wooing Cane, Lemmon trying not to be wooed by eccentric millionaire Osgood Fielding III (a perfect comic turn by Joe E. Brown), and the resolution of the gangster plot.

Essentially a long situation comedy written and directed by Billy Wilder, this wasn't really my kind of film. I spent most of the movie agonizing over what would happen when their cross-dressing masquerade was finally revealed. It turns out my writhing was somewhat in vain, which made it a better movie, but it cast a pall over some of the other genuinely funny hijinks for me. I can understand why this film is so highly-regarded, but I didn't enjoy it all that much.

On the other hand, It Should Happen To You (1954) is a superb film. Directed by George Cukor, Judy Holliday plays Gladys Glover, a perfectly ordinary young woman who's moved to New York to make a name for herself. After losing a modelling job, she one day meets young filmmaker Pete Sheppard (Lemmon, apparently in his first major role) who helps cheer her up. After meeting him, she decides that she can make a name for herself by having her name painted in big letters on a billboard on a busy square. But Evan Adams III (Peter Lawford) wants the billboard for his company, so he works a deal where she gets many other billboards in town in exchange, and Gladys becomes a minor celebrity just for having her name around town.

Meanwhile, Gladys and Pete strike up their own low-key romance, but Pete can't understand Gladys' obsession with the billboards, and it drives a rift between them, especially as Gladys starts becoming genuinely famous and appearing on TV and in advertising.

It Should Happen To You is anchored by Holliday's complex performance as Gladys Glover. She seems a little bit ditzy and perhaps not too bright, but in fact she just knows what she wants, regardless of whether the reasons she wants it are ones other people understand or approve of, and she enjoys having her name up in public to its fullest. And she's not really dumb, as she never really lets anyone take advantage of her, but is willing to try new things and abandon them if they're not really working out.

The most interesting question about Gladys is whether she's unhealthily narcissistic. In many ways it's a tough call, as she seems to just know what she wants and goes about doing what she thinks is necessary to get it. She's really an admirable character in many ways, and the film's tension is that her myopia keeps her from really appreciating other things around her, to wit, Pete.

The film keeps rolling along with crackling dialogue typical of films of the era, and although the "moral" at the end of the film seems too canned and doesn't quite ring true (it deflates much of what's admirable about Gladys as well as what's not-quite-right), it's overall a fine film.