Well, dear readers, today, December 8th, was the birthday of Mary, Queen of Scots. And today, December 8th, is the birthday of BK, Queen of haineshisway.com. There, I’ve said it and I’m glad. I am proud to share a birthday with Mary, Queen of Scots, and I also share one with Henry, Earl of Frogs, and Lester, Duke of Earl. But more about that later. Speaking of later, yesterday was a day that occurred. For example, I got up. That occurred. I then took packages and shipped them, then stopped at one of the only real antique malls left (most have disappeared after their spate of popularity, and most of the ones that are left are quite lame) – this one, in Sherman Oaks, still has many dealers’ cases and I always have fun taking time going from case to case. There were some very interesting items and I even bought two count them two 45s that cost me all of six dollars. I’d never seen either of them – one was a song sung by Bob Carroll from the motion picture Witness For The Prosecution. I don’t really remember a song from the film, but this 45 had a great picture sleeve with the film logo on it, so it was a must have. The other 45 featured two themes from an Alcoa Presents episode scored by someone named Johnny Williams. I’m not at all sure these ever made it to an LP. After that, I went to my mail place and picked up several packages, including a lovely box of Godiva “pie” chocolates from dear reader FJL. After that, I came home, did a little work on Ye Olde Computer, chose my selections for Murder At Hollywood High (I’m doing far less than I’ve done in the past because once past chapter three we’re into serious spoiler territory), and I think they’ll be fun to read – about fifteen minutes of selections. I then practiced reading them, then I said ciao to the home environment and toddled off to get some chow. I decided to try a little hole in the wall jernt I’ve driven by hundreds of times, called Kansas City Barbecue just north of Universal Studios, and am I glad I did. The food was yummilicious and I had plenty of it since it was my only meal o’ the day. I had a brisket of beef sandwich, which was one of the best I’ve ever had (their barbecue sauce is superb – zesty), I had a little side of cole slaw (the only mediocre thing I had), beans (at the owner’s insistence, and were they ever great), and a side of a couple of baby back ribs. The latter were finger lickin’ good. I’ll be going back there regularly now. After that, I took a drive, then came home, where I finally sat on my couch like so much fish.
Last night, I watched a motion picture on DVD entitled Mister Roberts. I’ve had this DVD for almost ten years and have never watched it, other than checking out its transfer when I first got it. I probably hadn’t seen the film in twenty-five years. So, it was a pleasure to watch it again, and it remains funny and touching and a grand entertainment. Henry Fonda stars as the titular character, and he’s perfection (he should be, having played the stage show for 1000 performances – and – note to young, spoiled Broadway actors – never missed a performance – EVER). James Cagney is great as his superior, William Powell is also great as Doc, and Jack Lemmon, who won on Oscar for his performance, almost walks away with the film. The direction by John Ford and Mervyn LeRoy (mostly by the latter), is simple and effective. This was the film that ended Ford and Fonda’s relationship. Ford began the film, but was treating his actors like crap, and Fonda finally called him on it and said it had to stop. Ford hit Fonda, and Fonda had him fired off the film. I suppose we can’t say it enough – they don’t make ’em like this anymore. I’m never not moved by the ending, and Franz Waxman’s score is one of his best. The transfer, for its time was excellent, but there have been so many advances in authoring, that this same source material if done today would yield much better results.
Well, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below, because there is one word I have to say and I suppose it’s time to say it.
And the word is: Sixty. Now, I don’t profess to understand what that word and/or number means, at least not in the context in which I’m using it. I mean, holy moley on rye, sixty? What is that about? Sixty? I look in the mirror and I don’t think sixty. I get out of bed in the morning and I don’t think sixty. And yet, the word/number is sixty and there’s no getting around it. When one was forty and one looked ahead and thought, what can I accomplish in the next twenty years by the time I’m sixty, it seemed fine. But when one looks ahead and thinks, what can I accomplish in the next twenty years the number that follows is eighty, and by that time I’ll be lucky if I can accomplish chewing hard food. Can you imagine haineshisway.com in twenty years time? I’ll be eighty and still saying Well, dear readers, time is flying by like a gazelle with a hernia, or, today I got up – hooray, or I sat on my couch like so much fish and it took me three hours to get up. Well, sixty is must a number, and, as we all know, sixty is the new fifty, so I’m fine. I feel good, in fact, I feel younger than springtime, and I have energy, my brain occasionally still works, although sometimes I stand in the middle of the floor, not going left, not going right – oh, a Stephen Sondheim reference. Certainly, it’s been an interesting sixty years and in those sixty years there’s been happiness, awfulness, good friendships, a glorious daughter, and many, many unexpected detours which have led me down many interesting roads. So, I suppose we should all put on our pointy party hats and our colored tights and pantaloons, I suppose we should all break out the cheese slices and the ham chunks, I suppose we should all dance the Hora or the Lambada (The Forbidden Dance) for today is the birthday of ME. So, I suppose we should all give a big haineshisway.com birthday cheer to ME, just because it’s what we do. On the count of three: One, two, three – A BIG HAINESHISWAY.COM BIRTHDAY CHEER TO ME, JUST BECAUSE IT’S WHAT WE DO!!!
This morning, I must pick up my dry cleaning, then pick up a cake from Gelson’s, then shave and shower and get ready for the book reading and signing, which is at Mystery and Imagination Books in Glendale, just up the street from our beloved Alex Theatre. I do hope we have a nice crowd and I’m very much looking forward to doing it.
After the signing, I shall come home, relax for a few minutes, and then I shall toddle off to Genghis Cohen, where a birthday bash is being held in my honor – I’ve asked not to know too much about it, but I do know it was organized by Miss Adriana Patti and her mother, and that about twenty-three people will be in attendance, including my very own actual darling daughter. It should be festively festive and I know the food will be good and the company will be grand. I do believe our very own edisaurus and Greg will be there, too.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, turn sixty, I must do a book signing, I must attend a birthday bash, and I must prance about like an ageless gazelle doing the Limbo. Today’s topic of discussion: What was the best birthday you ever had, who did you spend it with, and why was it the best? Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst we keep repeating, it’s only a number, it’s only a number, and don’t forget that I am, of course, younger than springtime – of course, springtime is about a gaziliion years old, so that’s not hard.