For David Dean Wenstrom
My father loved the movies. He remembered all
the old screen actors from the ‘30’s and ‘40’s—
the era of his youth.
When we saw Mary Poppins together in Pueblo fifty years ago,
he was brought to ecstasy by Jane Darwell’s
cameo as the little old bird woman calling, “Come.
Come buy my bags full of crumbs.”
He took Victor and me to a screening of Quo
Vadis in the office of a colleague of his.
I don’t remember the
romance between Robert Taylor and Debra Kerr—just Peter Ustinov’s
funny and charming depiction of Nero,
and my sick feeling when the Christians were crucified—
St. Peter hung upside down.
Vadis in the office of a colleague of his.
I don’t remember the
romance between Robert Taylor and Debra Kerr—just Peter Ustinov’s
funny and charming depiction of Nero,
and my sick feeling when the Christians were crucified—
St. Peter hung upside down.
Lots of other movies—Grapes
of Wrath, Roshomon,
I Am a Camera. I saw Monterey Pop
with him in Denver. I
can’t help thinking it must have been his idea to go, as I doubt if
I would have initiated the trip. I
don’t know what he thought of Hendrix burning his guitar, but
Ball and Chain blew him away.
I Am a Camera. I saw Monterey Pop
with him in Denver. I
can’t help thinking it must have been his idea to go, as I doubt if
I would have initiated the trip. I
don’t know what he thought of Hendrix burning his guitar, but
Ball and Chain blew him away.
Earlier, we saw Don’t
Look Back at the Lagoon
on Colfax Ave. He’d heard my Highway 61
Revisited album,
with (in Phillip Larkin’s words) Dylan’s “cawing voice” and “possibly half-baked
lyrics.” But my father was impressed by Bob’s
presence. “He doesn’t give a damn about the camera,
so the camera loves him.”
on Colfax Ave. He’d heard my Highway 61
Revisited album,
with (in Phillip Larkin’s words) Dylan’s “cawing voice” and “possibly half-baked
lyrics.” But my father was impressed by Bob’s
presence. “He doesn’t give a damn about the camera,
so the camera loves him.”
During my dreadful second year in Boulder I
saw two movies three times each: Satyricon and
the Frank Zappa movie,
200 Motels. My father watched 200 Motels with me at the
Boulder Theater—Zappa played by Ringo
Starr—psychedelic cinematography—redneck bar—
obscene vacuum cleaner sex.
His favorite actress—Garbo, but I never
saw two movies three times each: Satyricon and
the Frank Zappa movie,
200 Motels. My father watched 200 Motels with me at the
Boulder Theater—Zappa played by Ringo
Starr—psychedelic cinematography—redneck bar—
obscene vacuum cleaner sex.
His favorite actress—Garbo, but I never
saw Ninotchka or Anna Karenina with
him. He told a story
of Garbo wearing sneakers in a shoot, asking, “Are the feet in?” He was
shocked by Chinatown—world irretrievably
in the clutches of corrupt capitalism. Slap. “She’s
my sister and my daughter!”
him. He told a story
of Garbo wearing sneakers in a shoot, asking, “Are the feet in?” He was
shocked by Chinatown—world irretrievably
in the clutches of corrupt capitalism. Slap. “She’s
my sister and my daughter!”
Not sure what movies he saw in Fergus Falls
in the ‘20’s. Joe Buck and Ratso Rizzo on
the pitiless New York
streets—trolling for tricks that never pay—not even taking the poor gay boy’s
watch—finally boarding the bus to paradise,
Rat helped by Joe to change clothes after he pisses himself—
last whispering, “Thank you, Joe.”
in the ‘20’s. Joe Buck and Ratso Rizzo on
the pitiless New York
streets—trolling for tricks that never pay—not even taking the poor gay boy’s
watch—finally boarding the bus to paradise,
Rat helped by Joe to change clothes after he pisses himself—
last whispering, “Thank you, Joe.”
November,
2013
