2014 IS ALREADY HALF GONE

DANG!  I have not written anything here for... well, never mind.  Anyway, so much has happened that I can't being to put it all down but I wanted to write a few things that are, well, milestones.  I bought a house in South Memphis, Tennessee, in what you would probably call the "ghetto."  I still own the house, a duplex, but I only stayed in Memphis for a year and got back to California in December.  I'm now living in Altadena, California, at the foot of historic Mt. Lowe and I can the equally if not more historic Mt. Wilson, whose observatory houses the one hundred inch refracting telescope, for many years the largest telescope of its kind, in the world.  Barron, my male greyhound died last July and I buried him in the back yard in Memphis.  Jade, my female and baby girl is still here and doing well and was six years old this year.  Today I missed Annual Greyhound Reunion and Picnic in El Cajon which is a yearly even done by Operation Greyhound where I adopted all three of my friends finest companions, Ben Hardin, Barron, and Jade, all three red brindle greyhounds.  I wish I could have gone but it just wasn't practical.  Practicality is something I've seldom been accused of, but occasionally, nevertheless, I am.

What else?  I'm going to Hong Kong in August or September, and also to Bangkok, to visit old friend I knew from the days when I lived in Paris, France.

I've been tweeting more, though I felt real silly at first doing it.  I'm getting more used to it as time goes on.  I still have a great aversion (it's kind of nutty) to Facebook, though I have many friends on it and I continuously feel guilty for not going there more often, as well as having MANY unanswered message.  I very much need to update my Linkedin profile, and I feel guilty about that, as well.  Online I have been doing the less arudous stuff (answering messages) to do more fun things, such as the two Pinterest boards I've created recently, the newest one I just made today.  It's called "George's Girls."

 What else to say before I must clean my room and fold my laundry...oh, I'm thinking of doing my little show on my Youtube Channel.  I don't know if I have anything worthwhile to add to the incredible amount of things already out there but it can't hurt to try, right?  And it doesn't really cost anything so what the heck.  Well, we'll see.  It's an idea I have.

That's all for now, y'all.  Thanks for reading this (if anyone does).  And on we go!

If you didn't know it already, on this day 42 years ago, September 26, 1969, the very first episode of “THE BRADY BUNCH” took to the airwaves and that crazy, silly, charming family that over time we got to know pretty well made their appearance in our homes and minds.  With the passage of time the Bradys became an iconic representation of the (a)typical “American Family,” or perhaps they were simply a typical American family, if there ever really COULD be such a thing.  I view the Brady’s as carrying on the torch which in an earlier era had been carried by – who else – the Cleaver family.  I may be wrong but I don’t see how you could help but love “Leave It To Beaver,” and “The Brady Bunch,” too.  The Beav and Wally’s antics spanned the years from 1957 to ’63 and Cindy, Marsha, Jan, Bobby, Greg, Peter, Mike, Carol and Alice (not to be confused with Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice!) – “the group that somehow formed a family” continued being a family until 1974 when the series ended.

As I am writing this I think of the wonderful 60s – well, wonderful, and horrible – all at the same time.  We had the madness of the Vietnam war, JFK’s murder, as well as that of Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King, not to mention the pain, suffering and struggle connected with the birth of the Civil Rights Era.  Surely more than enough insanity and horror for one decade the 60s were, for those of us who lived through it all, yet on the flip side you can’t separate the awful and extremely difficult to comprehend things which occurred – the things which if you were keeping a scorecard might have convinced you that evil was trumping good and that in the long run hate would win the race, leaving love lonely and lost, broken and crying by the side of the road.  Excuse me for being dramatic, but truly there was a very large amount of drama during that time and anyone who watched television, as I did, could not avoid being exposed to it daily.

But on the flip side of madness, sadness, hatred and sorrow that we saw in the “real” world, and also on television when we turned on the news, the TV also brought us things we were glad to have as opposed to the many things which is showed us that we wished we'd never seen.  Through the air and into the glass "cathode ray tube" (or CRT) emerged pictures and words, people and things, sometimes even animals that could talk and weekly we watched shows that are still some of the most delightful, loopy, endearing and memorable weekly programs that have been seen since the medium was created.  Hold my hand and walk beside me as we go to the stable where lived that terrific talking horse known as “Mr. Ed.”  And surely you recall a time when the great humanitarian who built a children’s hospital in Memphis known as “St. Jude” – Danny Thomas – came into our homes each week, and we even ANTICIPATED, and looked forward to his visits every week.  We must have felt comfortable with the intimacy of having him there, as the consensus back then surely was that “Father Knows Best.”  Oh, gosh!  I  CANNOT forgot to introduce you again to someone amazing, adorable, sweet, funny and sensitive and without a doubt completely unforgettable.  This old friend who I think you might already know was a maid who was employed by ANOTHER “typical American family,” the name of this family, like the Bradys, also began with a B," but I'm talking about the family we knew as the "Baxters."  And this woman I still love, this maid, well, she had this cute nickname for her employer, and she like to call him "Mr. B."  The actress who live inside this maid had another name starting with "B."  She was the late, great, Shirley Booth.  Ms. Booth became Hazel after already being established in the theater, winning awards for her portrayal of one sad woman with a sad life, in the play and later the film called “Come Back Little Sheba.”  This woman, this maid who worked for the Baxters was and is, I think, one of my all time favorite people who only lived on TV.  I loved her like I loved the horse who could talk, the "famous Mr. Ed."  I haven't said it yet but I hope some of you remember the name of the wonderful maid I'm talking about whose first name, IN the show, was the name of the show, itself.  Okay, do you remember her?  I hope so, and if you do, I hope you feel good like I do when I remember the name and the show.  It was “HAZEL.” 

This was the stuff of the earliest of my memories of sitting in front of the television, watching, in black and white, on the only three channels which we had, 4, 5, and 8, representing ABC, NBC, and CBS.  Ah, the memories.

Well you KNOW I could probably just go ON and ON, at least for a while longer, but I don't have all night (whew!)  I could talk about The Donna Reed Show, or My Favorite Martian, or who of you who reads this will remember "My Mother The Car?"  Maybe another time, I might revisit those shows and what they were about. Who know?  Maybe so?  It's just a thought.

Thanks for allowing me to share my thoughts and impressions of what life was like way back when the Brady clan entered the scene.  The decade of the show’s birth was very different than what we see now.  Despite the difficulties, the United States of America was still a place of optimism, and a thing existed, or at least we believed it did which people referred to as “the great American dream.”  Maybe we just imagined that it was possible for this dream, which was precious to many, to transform itself in something solid, three dimensional and real.  Yet much seemed possible in that long ago land of America’s past, and I’ve seen with my own eyes a dream or two spring to life.  In the beginning of the 1960s when a man who some believed to be a virtual knight in shining armor came to occupy the office of Chief Executive, in the thousand days left that he lived he spoke HIS dream, and it was a dream in which we believed because he, himself, believed in it first.  This dream was something that almost seemed crazy.  A fantastic idea, like Jules Verne taking us 20,000 Leagues Beneath The Sea.  A wild idea, where men might blast through space at incredible speeds, travel a rather vast distance, culminating with men just like you and me standing on the surface of the moon.  Of course they would need to come back to earth, as well.  I know it doesn’t seem like so much from where we are now, but trust me, we’ve become rather jaded.  There’s not much these days which can excite or amaze us.  And is there anything left that seems worthy of inspiring a dream?  Well, maybe we could dream of unemployment dropping to something less than a level that seems to me obscene, or the fantasy of a day when mortgage foreclosures might slow to a pace that won't continually leave one with a sense of gloom and dread.

In the decade in which the Brady Family first came into existence, in the very same year, only two months before they came, I saw a miracle happen on TV, with my own two eyes.  This was the culmination of the martyred President’s dream, to put a man on the moon by the end of the decade.  I am very glad that I was able to witness it.  I will always wish that he might have been able to see it, too.

Well, enough of thinking about anything too “serious,” I do believe.  Earlier, before I went careening down memory lane I was watching and listening to Florence Henderson, a/k/a Carol Brady, talk about what it was like when she first created Mrs. Brady, and she talked a little about her memories of the rest of the cast, as well. 

In honor of the Brady Bunch, which I’ll remember for a long time still, and to commemorate this day, 42 years ago when they first joined our own lives by living theirs on TV, if you are so inclined, please go where the link below takes you.  And if you do I hope you enjoy it like I did.  Actually, I left the Brady's rather  prematurely in order to share with you what I was seeing and experiencing there.  I want to go back now, so I'll say to you goodbye for now.  I'm heading back now to TV Land, to hang with Bob and Carol and those 6 darned crazy, funny kids.  Wait!  Mike, Carol, Alice, MARRRRRRRRRSHA!  Hey, wait!  I’ll be right there!

 This way to TV Land where the Brady Bunch lives

I SAVED SOMBODY'S LIFE LAST NIGHT

I SAVED A LIFE! And the life I saved was that of a very small rodent. A rat, actually. It happened just last night.  Well, maybe it's silly but I was happy that I saved a rat's life, even for a little while.  Last night My friend Robert and I were out walking Jade and Barron and we saw a cat playing with something which turned out to be a rat.  Of course the nasty cat would have EATEN the poor rat if left to its own devices.  (I don't hate cats, just don't like bullies and in any match between a cat and rat there's no questions who is the underdog!).  At any rate, I said to Robert, "Should we save the rat's life?" which, if I know me, was a foolish question.  I couldn't not have done otherwise.  So the cat was the monster to the tiny little rat but I have to say I liked the thought that when I stepped into the picture I became the monster to the cat, as it was no match for me (especially when I was out to save a tiny life!)  After menacingly approaching the hateful brute as it was torturing my soon to be new rat friend, the fraidy cat made itself scarce as I had hoped it would.  I then approached the tiny rat, who was cowering in the door of a garage, terrified and paralyzed, pressing it's little body against the door.  To get my new pal to safety I knew I'd have to move him so I found a rolled up newspaper and sort of scooped him up with that.  I was afraid if I touched him he might bite me.  Well, he didn't really like riding on the newspaper as I carried him across the street and as he kept walking toward the edge, trying to get off of it I had to keep turning it to keep him from falling on to the ground.  When I'd reached a very dense patch of evergreen shrubbery on Parkman Street I knew that I had to let him go on his own merry way because the other other way to preventing him from dropping off of the newspaper would have been to grab him and I did not want to do that.  So with a small jump and a short drop the tiny furry creature who I had only a minute or two earlier saved from the jaws of death with their ice pick sharp teeth and bone crushing jaws of a common house cat disappeared into the darkness and safety of the large dense shrub which I hoped might give him some sanctuary and comfort for a while, no longer another creature's plaything and prisoner and soon to be meal...  at LEAST, I hoped, for a little while.  Finally, if you think this story was ridiculous, I guess it pretty much is, but just think - one day you may be powerless against something larger and more powerful and someone else who could help might there, and if they care they might save the life that is yours.  I ask you to treat all creatures, great and small,  with respect and know that each thing values it's time on this earth as do you also.  Peace and as we used to say in Paris "Bon Weekend!"  Rat photo courtesy of Robert Alvarez.

REMEMBERING 1963, ELIZABETH TAYLOR'S CLEAVAGE,  JOE MANKIEWICZ, PAUL BARTEL, AND MY DAD

All the above things are, for me, connected to the Twentieth-Century Fox "Sword and Sandals" epic 1963 film about the legendary Queen of Egypt, Cleopatra VII.  This fascinating ruler was descended from a long line of Greeks beginning with Ptolemy I,  Alexander the Great's general.  While the film night never make any "great movies" list, surely in many regards it was simply enormous, not the least of which was the runaway budget eventual totaling somewhere in the neighborhood of, in today's dollars, about $300,000,000.00.  Three hundred million dollars.  The movie was originally budgeted for much less than it ended up costing, and among the collateral damage from this wild, sprawling dog, pony, horse and cobra show which started at Pinewood Studios in London, only to have all that had been done there trashed and rebuilt and re shot at Cinecitta in Rome was the financial emasculation and near bankruptcy of Twentieth-Century Fox.  To stay solvent one of the means the studio used to raise money was to sell off a large portion of its old back lot.  This gave us which is today called "Century City."  Also, it might be noted that the romance which was ignited during Miss Taylor and Richard Burton's torrid onscreen smooches eventually destroyed the marriages of both stars, subsequently leading to the Miss Taylor's 5th trip down the altar and Mr. Burton's 2nd, accompanied by each other.  They stayed married about ten years and their escapades, extravagances, jets, jewels, various illnesses and maladies and their sometimes very public and now legendary episodes of brawling were constantly in the news when I was young and I am sure to this day no power couple of modern times has even come close to overshadowing the love story that was Taylor and Burton.  The romance came to a final end with Richard Burton's death, their tale having endured a divorce and remarriage and subsequent second divorce.  At 58, Mr. Burton unfortunately left us too soon but Dame Elizabeth Rosamond Taylor Hilton Wilding Todd Fisher Burton Warner Fortensky still endures.  I think of her as truly one of the very last "stars," in the sense of what they once were in the old days of Hollywood when the studios pretty much held all the cards, or at least just about all of them that matted.

What got me on this "Cleopatra" thing was the fact that this morning I read an article about the possibility that Angela Jolie playing Cleopatra in a film to be produced by Scott Rudin based on a new biography of the Queen of the Nile by Stacy Schiff.

My Father took me to see Cleopatra at the Capitol Theater in Paris, Tennessee. 
On a long ago Saturday afternoon in 1963, my father took me to see Cleopatra at a the first movie theater I ever knew, the Capitol, in Paris, Tennessee.  The Capitol, like so many old movie houses is now only a memory.  If you should be interested in learning about its sad fad, I found some information here:

 http://cinematreasures.org/theater/14475/

Cleopatra and The Dirty Dozen are the only movies I actually remember ever seeing with my father and it was at the Capitol in Paris where I saw both of them.  I remember how I loved the chilled enchanted darkness that I experienced when I walked through the doors, with the ever-present smell of popcorn greeting you like an old friend.  My memories of the Capitol are quite fond and I very much enjoyed the hours which I spent there, for watching the tales played out on the screen which were literally "larger than life" allowed me, for a few short hours, at least, to escape the stress and heartbreaks of my troubled youth.  I say this not out of self-pity but simply as a fact, because all of my earlier memories were colored by the shame I grew up feeling due to my Mother's alcoholism.  I won't say more about that and that could involve much revelation at any point in the future.  HEY!  I just had an idea as I was typing - I have thought about writing a book for quite some time and perhaps the entries in this blog could be the bare bones, or an outline of some future literary endeavor.  You tell ME if you think there is any future in that.  Okay, back to my story now.  My father and Cleopatra and the Capitol Theater.  While he was alive, the only thing I ever called my father was "Daddy."  My dear father, George Tillman Wiseman

Eye Makeup and Boobs.  Regarding my memories of the film which have remained with me these past 47 years since Daddy and I viewed it together I can mention two two things in particular.  The first was Cleo's exotic quasi-authentic by way of the hip 1960s eye makeup.  The other was Liz's prominent and amply satisfying cleavage.   In Cleopatra I found at that time and still find whenever I watch it now a stunningly beautiful creature which surely Elizabeth Taylor was.  I do not imagine she was ever more beautiful, actually, than she was then.  Cleopatra, Elizabeth Taylor, WOW!  The effect of seeing her onscreen then was...  Oh, truth be told I was mesmerized and infatuated.  I have long found Miss Taylor to be utterly fascinating and nothing has ever changed that assessment.

Raoul Had Not Yet Eaten.  Nor would he for quite some time to come when Paul Bartel was in Rome while Cleopatra was being filmed.  Several years ago, though I don't remember how many, in Santa Monica, California, I heard Paul Bartel talk about his life in the movies and he told us that he was at Cinecitta while Cleopatra was being filmed.  I had taken a "Learning Exchange" seminar, or something along those lines and this particular event involved Paul Bartel, whose wrote and directed the black comedy "Eating Raoul."  Before moving to California I had lived at 74 West 82nd Street in Manhattan and another occupant of this brownstone, on a floor below me, was Paul's sister, Wendy Bartel.  Having by this time acquired some knowledge of Paul's work, having seen "Eating Raoul," at least, I thought it would be fun to go and hear and perhaps meet Paul so I would be able to tell him that I knew his sister.  The seminar or whatever you would call it occurred in a meeting room in a Santa Monica hotel.  It was attended by several people but not a large group, I wouldn't say.  I thought what he had to say was interesting but not so much so that I remember anything he talked about specifically other than the fact that he had been working as an apprentice or something equivalent, at Cinecitta Studios in Rome while Cleopatra was being filmed there.  I recall him relating to us having seen over a period of time Joe Mankiewicz arriving for work in the mornings, looking quite bleary-eyed due to night after night having to stay up until all hours rewriting the script and attempting to fashion it into something understandable and marketable.  I understand that originally the film had been planned as two separate movies, first Caesar and Cleopatra's story and second  Anthony and Cleopatra's story.  During the course of the creation of this epic it was decided that there would be only ONE film, which Joe Makiewicz had planned to run about four hours, a full hour more than what it ended up being cut down to.  There had been some great scenes cut, some which involved important exposition of the characters which would have made the entire thing more understandable.  In the long run due what Joe was forced by the studio to piece together seemed to never fully satisfy the expectations of either Twentieth Century Fox, it's director, or those who have viewed it over the years.  Sadly it turned out to be a huge (and costly) disappointed for a project that all the collaborators had originally hoped would turn out to be a blockbuster.  It pretty much HAD to be a big, big hit in order to be anything other than a huge failure.

I Hear, See, And Manage to Even Get The Autograph Of the Great Joseph L. Mankiewicz.   Some years ago, around the same time period I went to see Paul Bartel, I read that there was going to be a screening of "All About Eve," at the Director's Guild in Hollywood and the writer and director would be present for a discussion afterward.  Of course All About Eve's writer and director were none other than the great Joseph L. Mankiewicz.  The even was open to the public so I bought a ticket and before the day of the screening I went to a some shop in Hollywood that sold old movie star photos and I managed to find one of Mr. Mankiewicz, on a beach, directing some actress whose name I don't know in a film who name  I don't remember, either.  The Saturday of the Screening I took the picture with me, along with a black sharpie, and waited until after the film was viewed, and the discussion session which followed, and the whole thing ended when quite a few other people who had had the same idea as me kind of mobbed the poor man, requesting autographs.  Not wanting to be pushy or rude I got into the crowd but wasn't as aggressive as I might have been and probably shouldn't have been but I very nearly miss getting the great writer/director's autograph.  I was the VERY last person who had a picture signed by Joe Mankiewicz on that day.  It was announced that he would have no more time but I had taken my photograph, and sharpie, and maybe the movie that the still was from wasn't that very interested anyway because Joe had to show the picture to his wife and it was Mrs. Mankiewicz who  remembered Joe of the name of the film.  I went home a happy man and to this day I possess the autograph of the man who is responsible for "fasten your seat belts, it's going to be a bumpy night," as well as - are you ready?  I'll tell you from memory the ending of Cleopatra.  One of Octavian's men discovered that ruining Octavian's plan to drag Cleopatra into Rome chained to his chariot she has tricked him and ended her own life, ruining Octavian's chance to glorify himself even further had he been able to carry it through.  The narration begins (after the Roman  solder sees that Cleopatra is dead, which angers him)  "And the Roman asked, 'Is this well done of your lady.'  And the servant answered,  extremely well, as befitting the last of so many noble rulers."  And with those words, expressed in voice over, as the camera pulls back to reveal the gorgeous and dead Cleopatra, displayed like a fine jewel on a translucent slab of stone, dressed in the golden finery of the goddess Isis, the legendary 1960s grand cinematic portrayal of the most famous Egyptian Queen of all comes to an end as the credits begin to roll.  Frankly, if anyone asked me I would tell you I think that movie was worth every penny spent.   Perhaps instead of saying that I might say that regardless of the cost, I am very glad that they made it.  If you ever watch see it, take note of the sheer number of bodies in the big wide shots, for example, at the beginning of the film where we meet Caesar, after the battle at Farsalia.  The number of extras is truly STAGGERING, and the same thing occurs in the next scene when Caesar sails into the port of Alexandria.  No doubt many things you see in this film could now be duplicated using CG and any number of other techniques which involved digital magic but way back then none of that technology existed.  The sets were all really BUILT.  The people were all REAL.  I don't think there will ever be anything like it again.  For that reason alone I will always treasure it.

Tilliman and Warner Wiseman if front of Bain's school in 1942

My cousin, Diane, sent me this picture.  It's my father and somebody named "Warner Wiseman."  Maybe a cousin?  I don't know.  At any rate, I just saw it a few minutes ago and decided to share it.  I don't know where this school was but I am going to try to find out.