Americans Walking On Eggshells In Everything They Say Or Do

I saw this today and thought it looked like a pretty good representation of today’s world, at least in the USA.

ebaumsworld

You can’t say what you really feel today without threat of cancel culture, and the media shames you if you don’t cowtow to the issue du jour of the social justice warriors, regardless of the idiocy of the demand. Take Henry Winkler, for example. People lost their freaking minds when he posted this a few days ago.

Somehow, in this twisted, brainwashed land where tolerance is demanded but yet everything is offensive, Winkler’s statement was perceived by some idiots as horrifying. Nature is horrifying? Fishing is horrifying? Some vilified him for “traumatizing the fish.” Do these same people vilify fishermen? Is it okay to fish if you’re not a professional fisherman? What are the rules these days? Where do people think FOOD comes from? What about Native Americans? Let’s cancel them. I’m pretty sure they spent all day hunting and fishing. God, what if your grandpa fished? Think about it. What if he didn’t catch and release like Fonzi? Then what? What if he ACTUALLY KILLED IT AND ATE IT? Murderer!

Guess what? You must pay for the sins of your fathers! Take your burnt offering to the wood nymphs and offer reparations for their deeds. Just think, your very lineage, your great-great grandparents who could have simply gone to the General Store and purchased couscous and tofu burgers, chose instead to learn a skill and go fish in nature, where humans have dominion over beasts.

We have a nation of snowflakes, poised to find offense at every turn, and he who screams and cries the loudest with the biggest toddler fit is rewarded by every media outlet in the system. America has lost its might, its reasoning skills, its spine, its balls. For God’s sake, let the man fish. It’s not like he smoked Parmesan cheese or sniffed children.

Oh, Henry, you warm, loving human being. God bless you for enjoying nature and sharing your enthusiasm. Bless you for not looting and rioting and burning cities down like so many others right now. God bless you for not sitting on your ass, collecting unemployment checks while restaurants fold because of lack of servers. God bless you for your smile and your kindness. Let the harsh words of the misinformed fools roll of your back. Fish, Henry. Fish your bippy off.

Ayds Keeps You Trim

Mona, that’s all well and good, but before you get to the weight loss secret, please explain why your child appears to be both barefoot and topless in a nationwide ad-VERR-tiz-mint. Surely a Hollywood A-lister such as yourself could spring for a blouse and sandals, unless you spent all your money on Ayds.

1954

Now, see here, we’d usually end this post at this point. But I fear you’ll go Googling Ms. Freeman, and you might wind up at WikiFeet by accident, as I did, a site for freaks who enjoy celebrity feet. So to spare you such heathenism, I’ll share this shot of Mona and Tony Curtis learning sign language on the set of the movie “Flesh and Fury,” wherein Curtis played a deaf-mute prizefighter.

Bend Bulletin

And here she is with Roy and Dale, wearing a belted gingham dress that shows off her Ayds waist.

In this shot, she and Jane Russell talk smack about the peons at Paramount.

And finally, a shot of her with leading man, William Holden, while filming “The Streets of Laredo,” incidentally also the name of a New Zealand folk band.

Oh, to be young and lithe!

Jolly Good Form

1943 Cactus

On the right, we see Charles Umlauf, Professor of Life Drawing and Sculpture, during his first year of teaching at the University of Texas. While you may not be familiar with his name, chances are you have heard of one of his art major students, Farrah Fawcett, who called Umlauf her “favorite professor.” Understandably, she posed for him as a muse, as well as sculpted on her own. Here they are in his studio, during a very stripey 1971.

https://www.wmagazine.com/

Below is the bronze bust of a feathery Fawcett, made by Umlauf.

https://www.austinchronicle.com/

How I Feel When Another Guest’s Fajita Plate Sizzles Past Me

giphy.com

We lunched at Chuy’s today, where I’ve eaten since about 1983. They’re still using their crappy limited quarantine menu, while every single other restaurant around here has been full menu for months. Still, though, I can’t quit them, as their creamy jalapeno dip runs in my veins. And just as in every trip, someone with far deeper pockets than mine has ordered the fajitas. My head cocks quickly as I smell the meat and hear the sizzle from a black skillet passing our table. The fajitas seem to wink at me, as if to suggest today is my day to give in. I sigh longingly. No, fajitas, not today, my friend. But one day. One day, we will be together. 

https://www.trifoodies.com/

Joe Louis: Not A Reefer-Smoking South Side Jitterbug

LIFE July 11, 1938

Heavyweight champion Joe Louis (on the left) with his “Chicago set,” Paul Turner, manager Julian Black, William Russel, and bodyguard, Carl Nelson (seated). The spiffiness and swagger was not limited to the men.

Bing Crosby seems an odd name for a choice, no? I think we can all infer the condescending tone of this article, which seems to be patting Joe on the back for his civilized behavior and shall we say, refined, hobbies. Third prize went to his gelding, MacDonald’s Choice.

A silver cup and blue ribbon were presented to Mr. White (Edward White), a Chicago paper dealer, astride his five-gaited saddle horse, Rex Chief.

Ava Assesses Self

LIFE 4/12/54

Among all the assessment was another “ass,” Bulgarian artist Assen Peikov, who was contracted to sculpt the actress’s face for a scene in her upcoming movie, The Barefoot Contessa (not to be confused with the Food Network chef). Wonder who got to keep the bust when the movie ended?

Watching Yourself Blow Out Your Birthday Candles

7/11/38 LIFE

It was June 24th, 1938, and a celebration was in order as pugilist Jack Dempsey, aka The Manassa Mauler, blew out candles for his 43rd birthday, accompanied by his third wife (of four) Hannah and daughter Joan.  A year prior, Kyril Petrov Vassilev, a Bulgarian painter of royalty, had moved to the US and befriended Dempsey. He had started this painting only 10 days prior to this shot. As you can see, he worked quickly.

Tony Bennett’s Lemon-Slinging Kid Brother

Chicago, Italian neighborhood, by Perry Riddle, July 1975

What do you think? Does Mario bear any passing resemblance to the 94-year-old crooner? Tony has certainly sung about Chicago plenty.

BEST ON RECORD — “8th Annual Grammy Awards” — Pictured: Singer Tony Bennett during a special presentation of Grammy winning songs and performances from the 8th Annual Grammy Awards (Photo by NBCU Photo Bank/NBCUniversal via Getty Images via Getty Images)

Desi ‘Splainin’ How Many Wives He Had

Houston Chronicle Archives

So much is happening here. Desi Arnaz appears to be flashing the peace sign, which is entirely possible for the era, as it was Halloween night of 1968. Here he is strumming his guitar exuberantly for presidential nominee Richard Nixon, at the (get this) headquarters for “Good Latin-American Democrats for Nixon.” I guess that was a thing.  Enough Democratic Latinos despised Hubert Humphrey enough that they switched allegiance to support Nixon? Anyway, I love the look of the mariachi man with the sombrero. And while this Desi looks much more haggard and aged than the twin bed Lucy version we grew up with, I do want to point out that his age here is only 51, the same age that Jennifer Aniston is right now.

Twist & Shout & Shout & Shout

The Century by Jennings and Brewster

It’s February 12, 1964, and nobody in New York City cares a farthing that it’s Abraham Lincoln’s birthday. The Beatles have just arrived in NYC, and frenzied Beatlemaniacs across the street from New York’s Plaza Hotel are losing. Their. Minds.

Social Closeness

LIFE 7/13/59

Their smiles beam but seem to say, “We’re choking. Take the picture already. This is awkward.”

In what sounds like a silly sitcom plot, identical twins Patrecia and Leisha Gullison won the shared title of Miss Palo Alto in 1959, qualifying them to compete (as a non-conjoined unit) for the Miss California contest. They posed in white bathing suits and did interpretive dance, but got stumped at the question round.

Susan Bronson, however, did not get stumped, stating her answers coherently, and won the title. Or maybe it was because she was blonde and native, and the twins were born in Toronto, and emitted a non-native Californian vibe. In any event, LIFE magazine decided this made for good copy.

Unperturbed, the twins soon signed with Ford Modeling, doing print work as well as television commercials, including one as (obviously) the Doublemint Twins. Liesha became the “Salem” girl, modeled in New York, was active in the theater, and enjoyed a marriage, as well as a later career as an Avon lady. She passed in 2010 at the age of 70. Interesting, but fairly uncomplicated.

Pat, not so much. In 1963, she married a fellow college student, Lawrence Scott. She had been attending talks by fellow Canadian-American Nathaniel Branden, who created an institute to disseminate Ayn Rand’s (yeah, THAT one–of Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged fame) philosophy of objectivism. Pat became smitten with his nutty ideas and decided he might prove a better lover than her husband, with whom she had grown tired over the months. However, Branden was not only married (to wife Barbara) but also sleeping with Ayn Rand himself. Pat decided she also would sleep with Branden, and the affair continued for a year before he told his wife and divorced her.

Pat followed suit and divorced Scott in 1966.

Wanting to rid herself of the last name “Scott,” she made a beeline to (who else?) Ayn Rand to ask her opinion on what she should change it to. Rand suggested her new surname be Wynand, just like the character Gail Wynand in The Fountainhead. Because that’s not crazy. Pat nodded and said okay, and suddenly she became Pat Wynand.

Meanwhile, Rand was still in the dark about the fact that her lover was also the much, much younger and more attractive Pat’s lover. But in 1968, Branden’s now ex-wife Barbara decided it was time to spill the objectivist beans. She informed Rand (who was already old and gross at 63 years old by that point) about his affair with Pat. Rand was livid and accused him of “deliberate deception,” which is arguably what she had committed by sleeping with another woman’s husband in the first place.

Now the adulterers were both free to wed, which they did in California in November of 1969. Several years of marriage passed. Then in 1977, while Pat was outside, feeding their dog, the rays of the sun hit the water on their pool just right, triggering an epileptic seizure in Pat, who consequently drowned in their pool. Branden was sad for a few months and then married the next year.*

Now back to coronavirus.

 

 

*as usual, today’s post facts arrived fresh from Wikipedia