Saturday, June 6, 2009
Let’s get to some beautiful people.
K put this movie on his blog, and I wanted to pander to him anyway. He’s getting published this autumn, and can probably introduce me to some influential people. Not that K and I have actually met. Go ahead, visit his site, look at his picture and the pictures he takes – does he look like blogger picnic material to you? Would you ask this man to bring his famous egg salad?
To our first invitation, I think K sent regrets, he was crushing a doll or cutting the head off a flower or something. Now he doesn’t even bother to respond.
Of others who avoid our vodka-spiked Hi-C events, Laurie generally has a cold, you know, one of those 2400 hour bugs, so her non-appearance is understandable.
The Blue Kitchen pair are the Nick and Nora of the cooking blogs. They wanted to fly out for our weenie roast, but were already committed to a penthouse champagne tasting.
Mid Town G apparently makes some mean rice-crispy squares, but somehow when our badminton tournament calls, the Guggenheim commission calls even louder.
Greenwich Village can never come because the minivan won’t start (and to be honest, I wouldn't trust his egg salad either). Mr Earl is always stuck in Lodi again.
I could go on insulting people for no reason. Maybe I should get to the movie.
Gable is Big John McMasters, and leaves no doubt that he’s big in all the important departments. Hedy Lamarr – she’s totally forgotten isn’t she – is just freakishly gorgeous. Poor Spencer Tracy once more gets to hold Gable’s purse throughout the movie. He’s Little John, I kid you not, every woman’s best friend.
So pour out the Goobers. Filmed in 1940, directed by Jack Conway. The score sounds like Max Steiner to me.