Yesterday I went to the Granada Hills Regency Theater to see Miyazaki's "The Boy and the Heron", which I won't review except to note it's obvious artistic brilliance, which is true of all of Miyazaki films. My favorite is still "Howl's Moving Castle", but this one might be his most philosophically ambitious, or maybe ambiguous would be a better word. There's also more symbolism than in any of his previous films (at least I thought so), as if he wanted to make a final grand statement, if this is to be his final film (he is 83 and his movies take 7 to 10 years to make). At any rate, go see it while it's still in the theaters. This, and every Miyazaki movie, gets Two Gigantic Thumbs Up.
I also have several other flicks: "Hot Saturday"(1932), "The Night Before the Divorce"(1942), and "Home Sweet Homicide"(1946). The latter two star the beautiful Lynn Bari, and "Divorce" pairs her opposite our fave Mary Beth Hughes as warring femmes in love with the same man. "Homicide" is the best of the bunch, with Bari as the prolific author of detective novels who is raising three precocious kids as a single mother. The kids all speak like adults. You get three great child actors: Peggy Ann Garner, Dean Stockwell and Connie Marshall, and of course they get caught up in a real life murder case that is being investigated by a detective right out of one of Mom's novels. "Hot Saturday" is a pre-Coder with non-stop innuendo and - Super Pre-Code Alert! - an underwear-pulling scene between two sisters. It stars an early actress named Nancy Carroll, who carries the movie, holding her own and then some against future stars Cary Grant and Randolph Scott (pause for Blazing Saddles honorarium). Her character proves to be a prophetic prototype of things to come, and Randolph proves that nice guys do indeed finish last, at least with this kind of gal.
In local news, Cupid's is closing for good on December 30th. If you want the best chili dog in the world, it's your last chance. I've been walking by there to examine the lot, which I already know with my eyes closed, having lived nearby for 56 years. And I cannot imagine, for the life of me, what the buyer thinks they are going to erect in Cupid's stead. I do understand the owner's desire to sell, having learned the details. The stand is owned by an older couple named Walsh, who were best friends of the founders of the original Cupid's in Winnetka (aka Canoga Park). The Walshes opened the Northridge Cupid's in 1964, and have operated it all this time, with outside employees, two in the store at a time. But I mean, you can't complain, even as a long-time Cupid's fan, because the Walshes, even if they started the franchise at a very young age, say 22 years old, would now be 82! More likely they are closer to 90, and have devoted their entire lives to the business. According to the gal from the original Winnetka Cupids (I had thought Northridge was the original) the Walshes have no one to take over the stand from them, thus their decision to finally sell. I was depressed when I first learned of it, but now I say God Bless Them for hanging on so long.
But in walking by, I can't imagine what the purchaser of that property thinks they can install on such a tiny lot, which is also in a residential zone, literally right next to a house, with minimal parking. What're you gonna put, a collegiate coffee bar? It ain't gonna be a corporate thing, that's for sure. You can't put a Starbucks there because a house is literally next door, just a few feet away. So what're you gonna put, yet another independent Mediterranean cafe? Where are folks gonna park? On the street? My point is that - hey! - why not just keep Cupid's going? Buy it and keep it going. It still has a steady stream of customers, from what I can see. There's nothing else you can put there, and if you do put something, like an unknown, untested eatery, I guarantee it will go out of business. And, thank goodness, they can't (I don't think) put one of those Mayor Garshitty cram-an-apartment-building on-the-smallest-possible lot, because, again, it's right next to a house and I don't think even the most corrupt LA developers (an oxymoron) could get away with it (though they are about to get away with putting a fucking hotel at CSUN, next to the Orange Grove).
CSUN has ruined Northridge, and that's California State money and politics. So, you're talking Gavin Newsom (one of the world's biggest a-holes) and Jerry Brown, who I used to like but don't anymore. But at least Jerry is the real deal, from a legitimately powerful family; Newsom is only a front man.
Well, anyhow. I'm the rightest-wing man in America, but not politically. Just the plain ol' rightest wing. You would be too if you were in my shoes.
And it's not just a case of being right-wing or conservative or whatever you want to call it, because I'm very close to not voting in elections anymore. It's just that the Left, which used to be called the Democratic Party, has gone so wacko and has its head so far up its rear end that you have to go right wing to keep your sanity, and to have any slim chance of holding onto what remains of America. Read and listen to Victor Davis Hanson, a guy I used to think was an a-hole but who I now think is right on the freakin' money. Subscribe to the Imprimus newsletter from Hillsdale College. It will set you straight. I don't agree with everything they say (because I'm probably righter-wing than they are) but they are generally on the money, and they don't come across with an "academic" (i.e. groupthink) viewpoint. I've been getting Imprimus in the mail for 25 years, ever since my Dad and I lived at Dave's house on Burton Street. Dad was proud that his grandfather went to Hillsdale. Dad subscribed to the newsletter, and after I started reading it, so did I. Even Dave did, and he wasn't political at all.
And neither am I. I'm not political. I just don't like bad guys, crooks or a-holes. I big-time don't like 'em. Especially with what I am learning about my life.
Imagine waking up one day, and realizing you didn't know jack about your own life, but other people did, and they used their knowledge to take advantage of you.
It's a bizarre feeling, I'll tell you.
For the past few days I've been thinking about silver mines and cocaine factories and family secrets and hidden marriages. I've been thinking about people with violence in their past. I've been thinking about psychic vampires - people who can supposedly read minds - and I've been thinking about a man who passed most of his adult life as American but was secretly German, who was taught phonetic English by his wife.
Karen on a mattress in the living room. ////
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