IF: mysterious

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This week’s Illustration Friday challenge word is “mysterious”.
Roll up, roll up for the mystery tour.
On Saturday, I went to meet my son at a free concert at the Great Plaza on the Delaware River’s waterfront. Instead of driving and fighting for a parking space on a busy holiday weekend, I took the train into downtown Philadelphia. I disembarked at the Market East station and headed toward to 11th Street stop of the Market-Frankford subway. I passed through the turnstiles and waited on the platform for the next subway train to arrive. The station slowly welcomed more passengers — an interesting array of humanity, the majority of which I would, most likely, never ever see again for as long as I live. One man paced the tile floor — the full length of the station — several times with his head down and a determined gait. He muttered unintelligibly under his breath — the only word I could understand was “fuck” and each utterance rang out clear as a bell. He also looked straight at me on several passes of his confined journey. Two women in their twenties argued loudly and bitterly about “taking my fucking money, you bitch”,  but I didn’t hear the outcome, as they moved to the very end of the platform and their disagreement became muffled echoes. Finally, the train clattered along the tracks and hissed to a halt in the station. The doors whooshed open and, after a number of riders exited, I boarded with the other commuters.

The train rattled and shook until it rested briefly at 8th Street, its next scheduled stop. The doors opened and two men entered and sat down in a nearby double seat. One man was obviously older, and by the looks of his leathery, wind-burned skin, I’d say by about two hundred years. He was a husk of a human and it was as though his entire, intact skeleton had been extracted. He was bent over like a palm tree in a hurricane and a dirty T-shirt hung loosely from his withered upper torso. His pants were just as ill-fitting and rivaled his shirt in the cleanliest department. He did not wear a green and mesh Notre Dame baseball cap, so much as it was perched on the dome of his cranium. He sat and stared at a spot several inches in front of his crooked nose and his toothless mouth drooped agape at the base of his head.

The old-timer’s traveling companion was destined to evolve into a similar state as the old man in a few years time. His skin — or more precisely, his hide — had the appearance of scabby beef jerky. It was deeply wrinkled and looked like it belonged on a man twice his age. His hair, although close-cropped, was matted and unkempt and undoubtedly filthy. Upon first glance, his shirt displayed a pattern, but closer inspection merely revealed it to be an accumulation of stains. His shorts were threadbare and equally as grubby. His sinewy legs ended at a pair of lace-less sneakers. He fumbled with a bag from FYE (a nationwide chain of entertainment media stores, specializing in CDs and DVDs) and withdrew the last possible thing anyone would ever have imagined.

A DVD box set of a complete season of Little House on the Prairie.

The old man continued his blank stare into space, as the younger man methodically unwrapped the DVD. He removed the outer cardboard slipcase and carefully placed it in the bag. He opened the plastic box that housed and protected the DVDs. He examined the top disk, admiring the likeness of Michael Landon emblazoned on its surface and lifted the small descriptive booklet that accompanied the set from beneath the two clips that held it in place. He snapped the box shut and, as if he was about to study some fantastic literary tome, began to read the booklet from page one.

As I stared incredulously at this mysterious pair, a stream of questions poured into my head, including, but not limited to: “Where do these guys live?”, “Where do these guys work?”, “What did they wear on their job interview and how did they pass the interview process?”, “Which season of Little House on the Prairie  did he buy? The one where Mary went blind? The one where Almanzo has a stroke?”, “Which season did he love so much that he must own?… or perhaps he just heard about the show and this is his introduction.”, “Where will he watch the DVDs? At home? Does he have  a home? Does this guy, who can’t even keep his clothes clean, even own  a DVD player? … and, if so, what the hell kind of priorities does he have?”

The subway stopped at my destination. My questions remained unanswered. The mystery remained a mystery.

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from my sketchbook: an exercise in selfishness

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Oh, what miracle has made you the way you are?
My wife’’s grandmother turned 101 this past July. When I met her nearly thirty years ago, she was a feisty, strong-willed woman who called things as she saw them and took no shit from anyone. She came from humble beginnings in Russia and lived an even more humble existence upon her arrival in the United States. She single-handedly raised two children – and by “single-handedly”, I mean that she got absolutely no help from her perpetually out-of-work husband. Eventually, her husband, through some shrewd maneuvering, became prosperous and his latent financial success allowed her to enjoy the life she always longed for and certainly deserved. She doted on and cared deeply for her children, their ensuing spouses and subsequent children. She hosted elaborate Sunday dinners and made sure everyone was abundantly satisfied. She was generous to a fault, but she also enjoyed frequent gambling excursions to “the casinas” — as she called them — to win more money with which to be charitable.

My wife’s grandmother always held a special place in her heart for her grandchildren and that place grew larger as offspring multiplied with progeny of their own. With the birth of my son twenty-four years ago, the family welcomed the first great-grandchild of the generation. I began referring to my wife’s grandmother as “GG”, short for “great grandmother”. She approvingly responded to the nickname.

GG lived on her own until well into her 90s. She currently resides in a gracious assisted-living facility. Although her memory is failing with each passing day, her spunky spirit still regularly surfaces. She was lively and animated at her 100th birthday celebration last year, cracking wise in front of an audience of extended family and friends. More recently, she wandered into another resident’s room late one night and demanded that she ““get the hell of my bed!”” Lately, though, her pace has slowed, her recognition skills have diminished and her demeanor wavers between happy and terribly sad. After all, she is 101.

My wife’s cousin Cuz went to visit GG this past week, as she is his grandmother, too. He hadn’t seen her in a long while and arrived to find her in bed, quiet and melancholy. He brought her some ice cream — an all-time favorite — and it seemed to perk her up a bit, but GG was still despondent and detached. Cuz concluded his visit, kissed GG goodbye and went out to his car. On his way home to see his own family, he called his sister. Sis answered the phone in a harried manner, obviously preoccupied with plans and activities concerning her own two children. Cuz reported on GG’s status and suggested that Sis pay her a visit of her own. Sis hesitated, then said, “You mean now?  Can’t it wait until Friday?”

Cuz was silent for a moment, and then answered, “I don’’t know, Sis. I’m not a doctor.”

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from my sketchbook: corinne calvet

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That's the way the croissant crumbles
While studying criminal law at the Sorbonne in her native Paris, Corinne Calvet dabbled in acting on French radio dramas and on the stage. She appeared in a few French-produced films until noted producer Hal Wallis brought her to Hollywood and cast her in Rope of Sand  opposite Burt Lancaster in 1949. She went on to appear in a string of films during the 1950s, playing French characters in both dramas and comedies, including the James Cagney war picture What Price Glory,  for which she also performed songs for the soundtrack. Corinne continued to act in French films while playing roles in American television series and films. Her last role was in 1982’s cult fantasy The Sword and The Sorcerer.

In 1952, Corinne sued Zsa Zsa Gabor for slander after she spread rumors that Corinne was not actually French.

The three-times married and three-times divorced, Corinne lamented, in her autobiography, that Hollywood never offered her roles that fully showcased her acting ability. Corinne passed away from a cerebral hemorrhage in 2001 at the age of 76.

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from my sketchbook: bud jamison and vernon dent

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spread out!
Bud Jamison has the dubious distinction of delivering the first “eye poke” in a Three Stooges short. It was in 1934’s Woman Haters  and he applied the move to Moe, Larry and Curly in succession. Bud also recited his lines in that short in verse. He went on to be a staple supporting player in hundreds of Stooges shorts playing policemen, judges, servants, crooks – whatever was required. He liked to entertain the crew with his beautiful tenor singing voice, which was featured in only a handful of the comedy two-reelers. In addition to The Three Stooges, Bud appeared alongside Charlie Chaplin, Abbott and Costello, Buster Keaton and Zasu Pitts. He was also a reliable stock player for producers Mack “Keystone Kops” Sennett and Hal “Our Gang” Roach.

Bud was a diabetic and a devout Christian Scientist. It is believed that, because of his religious beliefs, he refused medication for an infection that had become gangrenous. Shortly after wrapping on the musical comedy Nob Hill  in 1944, Bud succumbed to a heart attack brought on by the infection. He was 50 years old.

— —

After great success with Mack Sennett in the 1920s, Vernon Dent joined Columbia Pictures in their short subject department in 1935. He appeared in more Three Stooges shorts than any other supporting actor. Vernon, playing any number of exasperated authority figures, worked as the perfect foil for the Stooges outlandish antics. During his years at Columbia, Vernon became very close friends with Shemp Howard, as well as his brothers Moe and Jerry (Curly) and Larry Fine. Moe often spoke glowingly about the barbershop singing he’d perform with Vernon and Bud Jamison on movie sets.

Vernon was also a diabetic and as the years went on, the disease took its toll. Vernon has become completely blind by the 1950s. His condition, however, did not interrupt his acting career. He would often deliver his lines seated at a table or standing in a stationary position. In 1955, Vernon attended the funeral of his friend and co-star Shemp Howard. Fellow character actor Emil Sitka, a veteran of countless Stooges shorts himself, recalled Vernon being led into the ceremony. “He was staring straight ahead,” related Sitka, “and was told ‘This is Shemp.’ by his guide, who then placed Vernon’s hand on Shemp’s. It was then I realized that Vernon was blind. I had worked with him and never knew it.”

After over 400 film appearances, Vernon finally retired from show business due to declining health. He died of a heart attack in 1963 at the age of 68.

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IF: influence

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The Illustration Friday word of inspiration this week in “influence”.
I don't believe I remember writing that, Dr. Franklin
“Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society.”

The man who said that began his celebrated literary career as a printer, then on to the unlikely path of master riverboat pilot on the Mississippi. After a short and failed attempt at gold mining, he became a reporter. During his time as a reporter, he wrote the humorous story The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County.  The tale enjoyed widespread popularity and Samuel Clemens was on his way to becoming one of the greatest names in American literature. He adopted his nome de plume  while working on the riverboats. When a boat was about to enter water depths of two fathoms – safe for passage -the riverboatman would call “Mark Twain” signalling the mark of fathoms and twain for two.

Although he was a successful novelist and public speaker, gaining praise from peers and critics alike, he was a poor manager of money and an unwise investor. He eventually filed for bankruptcy. Later in life, he overcame his financial difficulty and paid his creditors, even-though his bankruptcy relieved him of that responsibility.

Mark Twain was born in 1835. For his entire life, he remarked that he came into the world in the year of Halley’s Comet and he would go out with it. He once said: “The Almighty has said, no doubt: ‘Now here are these two unaccountable freaks; they came in together, they must go out together.’” On April 21, 1910, he died of a heart attack, one day after Halley’s Comet reached it’s closest proximity to Earth since Mark Twain’s birth. He is buried in Elmyra, New York, under a headstone that measures twelve feet – two fathoms.

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DCS: marie mcdonald

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Oh Marie Oh Marie In your arms I'm longin' to be
Marie McDonald, daughter of a Ziegfeld girl, began modeling as a teenager. Her aspirations took her to Hollywood where she danced at nightclubs and sang with big bands, including a brief stint with Tommy Dorsey. She was soon signed to a contract with Universal Pictures and got her first credited role in Abbott & Costello’s 1942 comedy Pardon My Sarong.  The film tagged her with the nickname “The Body” (for obvious reasons), a name that followed Marie for her entire career. Marie was relegated to mostly low-budget “B” pictures, but she was a very popular pin-up girl during World War II, after her photo appeared in the US Army-published YANK  Magazine.

But, things got weird.

Marie was an alleged mistress of gangster Benjamin “Bugsy” Siegel, a claim neither one acknowledged. She was married briefly to Richard Allford in 1940. It was the first of seven marriages for Marie. She married shoe magnate Harry Karl… twice. She and Harry adopted two children before giving birth to a daughter, after several miscarriages. During her second marriage to Harry, she claimed to have been kidnapped by two men who forced her from her home. She was found in her pajamas with a black eye and two missing dental caps. Subsequent investigations cast numerous doubts on her story. It was dismissed as just another in Marie’s on-going efforts at “headline-grabbing”. Harry thought she was nuts and the couple divorced again. Tabloids regularly reported on her romances (including affairs with Eddie Fisher and Michael Wilding, both of whom would eventually marry Elizabeth Taylor), her mysterious auto accidents and even an escape from a psychiatric hospital.

In 1957, Marie returned to music and recorded “The Body Sings” for RCA Records. She followed that with a popular nightclub act. She also made several appearances on Steve Allen’s and Red Skelton‘s variety shows. With renewed interest in her talents, she was cast opposite Jerry Lewis in 1958’s The Geisha Boy.  Marie ended her film career in 1963 with a role in the post-Hays Code sex farce Promises! Promises!  The film’s draw was multiple nude scenes featuring fellow tabloid darling Jayne Mansfield. Later in ’63, Marie was arrested and convicted of forging prescriptions for Percodan.

In early 1965, Marie launched a cosmetic business that proved unsuccessful. In October 1965, her husband Donald Taylor, the producer of Promises! Promises!,  found her dead with an empty Percodan bottle by her side. The overdose was ruled accidental. Marie was 42. Three months later, on New Year’s Day 1966, Donald committed suicide. Marie’s children, from her marriage to Harry Karl, went to live with Harry and his new wife, actress Debbie Reynolds (who was previously married to Eddie Fisher).

Hooray for Hollywood!

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from my sketchbook: michael wilding

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I can't stand up for falling down
After finishing school, Michael Wilding got a job in the art department of a London film studio. Despite his ability as an artist, he was recruited and groomed by the studio to be a movie star. With his dashing good looks and relaxed demeanor, he launched what would become a three-decade career in 1933. He starred in numerous British films including two of Alfred Hitchcock’s lesser-known efforts Under Capricorn and Stage Fright.

In 1952, Michael divorced his wife of fifteen years to marry Elizabeth Taylor, who was twenty years his junior. It was the second marriage for each. The marriage lasted five years and produced two children. The couple had an amicable split and remained friends after their divorce. Just after his divorce, he began a secretive affair with actress Marie McDonald, until he broke it off to remarry in 1958.

Michael accepted steady acting roles throughout the 60s. He was forced to cut back on his working schedule due to his life-long battle with epilepsy. In 1979, 66 year-old Michael was at his home in West Sussex, England, when an epileptic seizure caused him to fall down a flight of stairs. He died from head injuries sustained in the fall.

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from my sketchbook: peggie castle

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As you walk on by will you call my name?
In 1947, twenty-year old Virginia-born Peggie Blair was eating at a Beverly Hills restaurant when her striking good looks caught the attention of a talent scout. She began her whirlwind career in Hollywood, using the stage name “Peggie Castle” and started off appearing in a slew of uncredited roles. Peggie was perpetually cast as b-girls, gun molls and other unsavory characters. Her breakout role as the murderous Charlotte Manning in the big screen version of Mickey Spillane’s I, The Jury in 1953, didn’t stray from her usual typecast.

In the 50’s, Peggie found work in television Westerns and landed a regular stint on Lawman as saloon owner Lily Merrill. The show lasted four seasons and she received a star on Hollywood’s Walk of Fame for her contributions to television. In 1964, she retired from acting, now married to her third husband, director/producer William McGarry.

Not content with her life and fleeting fame, Peggie found comfort in alcohol and her use and abuse of it increased. She died of cirrhosis of the liver in a small apartment on Hollywood Boulevard. She was 45 years old.

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IF: swell

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The Illustration Friday challenge word this week is “swell”.
Gee I think you're swell and you really do me well. You're my pride and joy, et cetera
“Gee, Dad, as far as fathers go… you’re swell!”

Even as Dennis Mitchell was wreaking havoc in Mr. Wilson‘s petunia bed (no, that’s not  a euphemism), he loved his dad. And what was not to love?

Herbert Anderson was born in Oakland, California in 1917. At 22, he headed to Hollywood to pursue an acting career. After small, uncredited roles in a dozen or so films, he got his break in 1941’s Navy Blues  opposite Martha Raye. He followed that with the World War II epic Battleground  in which he adopted the screen name “Guy Anderson”. Herbert’s regular work continued at Warner Brothers Studios, where he appeared in numerous roles as newspaper men, naval officers, photographers and the occasional “good friend” of the main character. His role of Dr. Bird in the 1955 Broadway production of The Caine Mutiny Court-Martial  led to a reprise of the part in the film version with Humphrey Bogart. Herbert was the only cast member from the play chosen to do the movie.

The new medium of television offered Herbert more opportunities to play familiar “everyday” characters on sitcoms and Westerns. In 1959, he landed the role for which he would be forever remembered, good natured Henry Mitchell, father to Dennis the Menace. For four seasons and 144 episodes, Herbert, as Henry, puffed his pipe and presided over the household at 627 Elm Street. He passed level-headed judgement and extended unconditional love to his son… even when Dennis and pal Tommy were torturing the hell out of poor Mr. Wilson. He also exercised fair discipline when the situation called for it. Dennis was right. He was a swell dad.

When Dennis the Menace  was cancelled, Herbert found steady work in a number of television series, appearing in guest roles on My Three Sons, Batman, The Patty Duke Show, The Brady Bunch  and many others. He performed as the harried, onscreen manager alongside Herman’s Hermits in the 1966 Beatles rip-off Hold On. In 1994, after twelve years of retirement from the entertainment business, Herbert passed way at age 77 from complications following a stroke.

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