4th of July
For me, ever since 1986 or so, the 4th of July holiday is all about watching this:
The holiday used to be all about drinking 101 proof Wild Turkey and watching this, but we eliminated the Wild Turkey part many years ago and now it's just about watching this. Even though I love fireworks, at the same time I am not into crowds so I don't usually enjoy that kind of thing on the 4th. I much prefer hanging out at home and watching a movie. And since I like to watch movies that pretty much no one else on planet Earth wants to see... well, you get the picture, I'm sure. My cats and I get closer & closer as the years fly by.
But I so fucking love this movie. I think it is the tawdriest, most salacious, jaw-droppingly "dirty" movie in the known history of jaw-droppingly "dirty" movie-making. It by far surpasses Peyton Place (another of my all-time faves -- and if you want to read something really dirty, then read the book Peyton Place if you never have; it is way, way dirtier than the movie, which isn't really dirty at all, in my opinion. Grace Metalious is my idol, btw! Anyway.). A Summer Place is so puritanical and mid-century American, you can readily see why 101 proof Wild Turkey helps this movie enormously, but still... I love it! Right down to the Frank Lloyd Wright house that Sandra Dee's father and stepmother live in. I would kill for that house. (Here's hoping the present-day owners of that house aren't suddenly found dead, now that I've admitted this in print and all.)
Well I finally bought the DVD of A Summer Place. It was on super-sale at Amazon and is now on it's breathless way to me, even as I type this. Which means that, yes, since about 1986 or so, I've been watching it on VHS. Not only VHS, but I had taped it from television -- from when it aired in NYC over 20 years ago. Complete with commercials and everything. And even while I abhor commercials (see post below), I do love everything that is indescribably old so really old TV commercials from when I lived in the East Village hold a certain morbid appeal. "My god," I say out loud to nobody at all. "I remember this ad. Was it really over 20 years ago?" (Yes, my world is a fascinating place. Again, you can see why 101 proof bourbon has been essential throughout most of it.)
Meanwhile... on the short story deadline front, on we toil. It is taking me forever, as usual. It makes me want to start drinking coffee again, but then I think of my little kidneys and about how nice it would be to have both of them throughout my remaining years and so I resist the urge. But it does mean I gotta scoot, gang. Gotta get back to the torrid lovemaking for those fine folks in France. Have a great Sunday, wherever you are! See ya, folks, & thanks for visiting.
The holiday used to be all about drinking 101 proof Wild Turkey and watching this, but we eliminated the Wild Turkey part many years ago and now it's just about watching this. Even though I love fireworks, at the same time I am not into crowds so I don't usually enjoy that kind of thing on the 4th. I much prefer hanging out at home and watching a movie. And since I like to watch movies that pretty much no one else on planet Earth wants to see... well, you get the picture, I'm sure. My cats and I get closer & closer as the years fly by.
But I so fucking love this movie. I think it is the tawdriest, most salacious, jaw-droppingly "dirty" movie in the known history of jaw-droppingly "dirty" movie-making. It by far surpasses Peyton Place (another of my all-time faves -- and if you want to read something really dirty, then read the book Peyton Place if you never have; it is way, way dirtier than the movie, which isn't really dirty at all, in my opinion. Grace Metalious is my idol, btw! Anyway.). A Summer Place is so puritanical and mid-century American, you can readily see why 101 proof Wild Turkey helps this movie enormously, but still... I love it! Right down to the Frank Lloyd Wright house that Sandra Dee's father and stepmother live in. I would kill for that house. (Here's hoping the present-day owners of that house aren't suddenly found dead, now that I've admitted this in print and all.)
Well I finally bought the DVD of A Summer Place. It was on super-sale at Amazon and is now on it's breathless way to me, even as I type this. Which means that, yes, since about 1986 or so, I've been watching it on VHS. Not only VHS, but I had taped it from television -- from when it aired in NYC over 20 years ago. Complete with commercials and everything. And even while I abhor commercials (see post below), I do love everything that is indescribably old so really old TV commercials from when I lived in the East Village hold a certain morbid appeal. "My god," I say out loud to nobody at all. "I remember this ad. Was it really over 20 years ago?" (Yes, my world is a fascinating place. Again, you can see why 101 proof bourbon has been essential throughout most of it.)
Meanwhile... on the short story deadline front, on we toil. It is taking me forever, as usual. It makes me want to start drinking coffee again, but then I think of my little kidneys and about how nice it would be to have both of them throughout my remaining years and so I resist the urge. But it does mean I gotta scoot, gang. Gotta get back to the torrid lovemaking for those fine folks in France. Have a great Sunday, wherever you are! See ya, folks, & thanks for visiting.
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