Button Sunday and 100 Happy Days: 39

I’ve been given carte blanche to plunder Lynne’s sewing supplies in her office/sewing room. When I remembered I needed a button for today, I knew if I explored these thread drawers I’d find something.

Throughout Lynne’s house are containers and bins and vintage tins and wooden boxes old and new and you never know what treasures you might find inside them. That’s part of what makes her a fun granny to Lila–and a fun friend.

This may not be an original smiley face button, but it looks old nonetheless. As Forrest Gump would say, “Have a nice day!”

Button Sunday

The last few days have been mostly miserable in world and entertainment news, and you know I generally don’t focus on miserable things on this blog. There’s plenty of that to be found elsewhere, in the views of people smarter and stupider than I am.

But like a lot of people, occasionally I feel personally affected by a celebrity death, and I was saddened to wake up today and read that actor James Garner has died at age eighty-six. I think more than any other actor, he shaped my idea of what a leading man should be, and I know for sure that carried over into the kind of men I like to write, especially as romantic leads.

It begins, as so many stories do, with “I blame my mother.” I was a wee thing, and maybe it was a day that my mother had to take me to a doctor or something, and felt like we needed a treat, so she and I went to a matinee. In later years, we’d laugh together at the education I got when we watched The Americanization of Emily. I’ve never seen the movie again as an adult, but I vaguely remember lots of bedroom scenes in James Garner’s portrayal of a cowardly and reluctant war hero who wants to win the heart of Emily (played by Julie Andrews).

“It was Mary Poppins and Maverick!” my mother would always say in her own defense.

Whatever else impressionable me might have taken from that day, the movie began my lifelong adoration of James Garner. Though I had to see most of his early television work in syndication, including “Maverick,” I was an avid “Rockford Files” fan. But any time I saw his name on the credits of any TV show or movie, I knew I was in good hands–and that his leading ladies would be, too. What a list that includes, along with Andrews: Audrey Hepburn, Doris Day, Shirley MacLaine, Sally Field, Lauren Bacall, Gena Rowlands, Angie Dickinson, Elke Summer, Ellen Burstyn, Suzanne Pleshette, Natalie Wood, Lee Remick, Eva Marie Saint, Jodie Foster, Sandra Bullock. Whether he played romantic lead, friend, or father, he could blend tender, rugged, wry, and strong like nobody else. Along with his emotional range, he was as unafraid to play physical humor as to do his own stunts (a tendency that caused him a lot of injuries and physical pain).

He brought the same wry humor and daring to his screen interactions with his male costars, and unlike a lot of them, his movie masculinity didn’t translate to stories of bad behavior in his personal life. As both performer and person, he always appeared to be a gentleman. A leading man indeed. Rest in peace, James Garner.


This caricature was drawn by artist Pete Emslie on Garner’s birthday this year. You can see Emslie’s other birthday tributes to Garner on his blog.

100 Happy Days: 13

Today I read that director/producer/actor Paul Mazursky died, and though that is nothing to be happy about, it did remind me that one of the things I’d planned to share during these days of happiness was whenever I’d finally have time to sit down and rewatch one of my favorite Paul Mazursky-directed movies. Though it was generally panned by the critics, Tempest was a 1982 movie I stumbled on and fell in love with. I think it was the first time I’d seen either Molly Ringwald or Raul Julia in a movie. (In fact, it may have been Ringwald’s debut film appearance.) Also in the cast are John Cassavetes, Gina Rowland, and Susan Sarandon, all favorites of mine. Anyway, this DVD of Tempest is the final thing I bought a couple of weeks ago with the same birthday gift card that brought me the Tom Robbins memoir and the Redneck Poet Magnetic Poetry kit.

Tempest borrows loosely from Shakespeare’s play The Tempest, and sadly, this is a play I’ve never read. I always wanted to because it’s so heavily referenced to good effect in a favorite Mary Stewart novel, This Rough Magic. Maybe Shakespeare’s play should be my summer classic this year.

As I said, Tempest wasn’t a favorite of the critics, but except for one unpleasant little goat incident (you’ve been warned), I was thoroughly entertained. One scene in particular never fails to fill me with joy; I’ve made several friends watch the movie with me for that scene alone. Tempest is quite similar in theme and characters to another Mazursky favorite, 1986’s Down and Out in Beverly Hills. Other great Mazursky movies are Bob and Carol and Ted and Alice (I’ve always been a Natalie Wood and Dyan Cannon fan), Harry and Tonto, and An Unmarried Woman. Mazursky also had acting credits in tons of TV shows and movies. Quite a legacy.

100 Happy Days: 2

Early today, when Tim was leaving the neighborhood, he drove by a yard sale and called me to tell me about something that had caught his eye. So later, I went for a walk and checked out the merchandise. As it turns out, I actually knew one of the people having the yard sale–one of my mother’s pals. So we struck a deal on these cases (circa 1964 and 1968) that Tim had spotted.



Back at home, when I opened them again, a tiny pink transparent slipper had appeared. I’m waiting for frogs to show up later dressed as footmen to deliver me into a coach made from a pumpkin. I’m going to name the footmen Thomas Barrow and James Kent. (Anyone else missing “Downton Abbey?”)

The look of the town

At a panel at Saints and Sinners which I intend to post about later, the moderator had the writers read first lines from one of their works. On the Colorado trip, as we rode through small towns of the Texas Panhandle, I kept telling Tim I was looking for the last picture show. Later, when David Puterbaugh saw some of my photos from the trip, he, too, brought up the movie The Last Picture Show, which is a favorite of mine, along with Larry McMurtry’s novel. I also like the sequels to both the book (Texasville and Duane’s Depressed) and the movie (Texasville).

I’ve always been an avid McMurtry reader and once considered writing my Masters thesis on his works. Regarding this particular novel, I appreciate how McMurtry’s opening immediately puts me in the setting and inside Sonny’s head, and how the novel remains with me, so that I’m still looking for that old theater and Sonny, Duane, and Jacy in every small town.

Sometimes Sonny felt like he was the only human creature in the town. It was a bad feeling, and it usually came on him in the mornings early, when the streets were completely empty, the way they were one Saturday morning in late November. The night before Sonny had played his last game of football for Thalia High School, but it wasn’t that that made him feel so strange and alone. It was just the look of the town.
Larry McMurtry, The Last Picture Show

You Sweet Thing

Continuing with an earlier theme of songwriters, JJ Cale’s songs have been covered by such artists as Eric Clapton, Waylon Jennings, Lynyrd Skynyrd, John Mayer, Phish, and Jerry Garcia. Cale died nearly a year ago at age seventy-four. I thought of him when I photographed a transport dog this past week, Magnolia.

I first heard Cale’s song “Magnolia” as covered by a favorite Seventies band, Poco. Cale’s version is shorter and good listening for a mellow Sunday. Here’s to you, sweet Magnolia. May you find a wonderful forever home.