The August 23, 1958 Saturday Evening Post caught my eye because of the beautiful artwork on the front cover.
Despite the dainty waving, it’s a lovely summer log cabin scene called Visitors to Cabin in the Woods. I ponied up the dollar for the magazine and peeked inside. I discovered a two-page article on Francesca Marlene de Czanyi von Gerber, aka Mitzi Gaynor. Most of us remember her from South Pacific.
The article featured this playful shot of her on the beach.
Ummm, am I blind? I think she could qualify as a raving beauty. I mean, come on. Fellas, would you kick this Technicolor lady out of your bed?
The article goes on to show a picture of her with her husband, Jack Bean. With his encouragement, she lost the disgusting 35 lbs she had been schlepping around like an elephant.
Thankfully, Jack transformed her into a 37-20-36 and revitalized her fledgling career. She was then able to make movies with Gene Kelly, where she posed in unnatural positions such as this for The Fart Whisperers.
served her well, as they were married until his death in 2006. And as far as I can tell, she kept her figure. A round of applause, for you, 82-year-old Mitzi Gaynor. Not a has-been at all!
For people of my generation, Bob Denver will forever be Gilligan, the Skipper’s “Little Buddy.” But to my parents’ generation, Bob Denver remains Maynard G. Krebs from The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis (also known as simply Dobie Gillis ), a sitcom that aired from 1959 to 1963. Maynard was TV’s first beatnikand jive-talking bongo player, and wannabe hepcats thought he was cool. Even Montgomery Ward took notice and offered trim tapered cotton ivy shirts for those in the know.
In case you missed it, here’s a close-up:
So it wasn’t Moon Zappa or Valley Girls who coined “like” after all. Mainstream American catalogs were doing it way back in 1962. They even used Maynard’s bongo-playing likeness to sell their combed cotton eversheen coats.
Facial hair? What the what? And check out these bobble heads. I wonder what they’d be worth today, American Pickers? Antiques Road Show? Pawn Stars? Anyone?
In case you’ve never seen Maynard in action, here’s a clip of him, showing his classmates the first portable music player, so he can listen to smooth jazz.
I came across this photo of Miss Catalina Lozano in a 1967 yearbook for the Schreiner Institute. I had to do a double-take, as she looks eerily like the daughter of Theresa Caputo, the Long Island Medium.
At the time the yearbook portrait was taken, Theresa Caputo had yet to be born. But I’d venture to say Catalina looks more like Victoria than Theresa herself.
Same flowing brunette locks, same Cocker Spaniel brown eyes, same nose, same lips…Victoria plus 1960s eyeliner equals Miss Chihuahua 1967. That’s all there is to it.
Actually, the flame was due less to Richard Simmons and more to the perils of frying turkey for Thanksgiving, which Shatner discusses here:
Flame-free and portly, he’s still truckin’ at 82 years old (and several months older than Regis!). Last year, he performed in a one-man show on Broadway, called Shatner’s World: We Just Live in It, and he makes consistent appearances on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno. Clearly, he’s having the last laugh.
Most of us remember Antonio Salvatore Ladanza from his TV series Taxi or later, Who’s The Boss? but Tony Danza is also an accomplished boxer, tap dancer, and Broadway actor. And as you can see from the picture above, in his latest movie, Don Jon, this 62-year-old is still pretty ripped. He explained that he did nothing to prepare physically for the role,; he maintains this level of fitness from his years as a prize fighter. But I have a celebrity fitness book from 1983 that reveals his secret:
“YOU CAN STAY IN SHAPE WITH JUST SEX AND NOTHING ELSE. THEN, YOU CAN EAT ALL THE MACARONI YOU WANT.”
At the time, he was still acting on Taxi with Marilu Henner, who has said that he wanted to “drill a hole through her dressing room wall.” Apparently, this misplaced testosterone could lead to barroom brawls, if not directed into workouts. Here he is punching a speed bag.
Mr. Danza circa 1983
I particularly enjoyed the last line of the interview: “I’m self-conscious because I’m getting older–I just turned 32.” Scoff if you will, but many celebrities never made it past the age of 32: Karen Carpenter and Cass Elliot (talk about night and day), as well as Bruce Lee, Keith Moon, and one of the guys in Milli Vanilli. Congratulations, Tony, on maintaining your fitness in the 30 years since this was published. And here’s to 30 more. Buon lavoro!
What you are witnessing surpasses the pairing of peanut butter and jelly, Jack and Diane, or even Tanqueray and Tonic. It is indeed a combination of the Extra-Terrestrial and the celebration of the Savior’s birth. My mind is too blown to continue. If you are unaware of the merits of wrapping paper, feel free to go back in time and check out: https://sanceau.com/2013/02/01/thats-a-wrap/.
Every morning, I look in the mirror, and I see that little frown line that won’t go away, no matter how many hundreds of moisturizer bottles and creams and serums that I’ve used for twenty years. They all promise reduction in wrinkles and improved skin appearance, and definite results within 8 weeks, but I’m here to tell you that not a one of them has ever worked. Ever. This is not an invitation for you to comment about how great your skin care regimen is, because I won’t believe you.
With my long blonde hair now, I look like a surfer Gordon Ramsay, or perhaps Gordon if he was ever a hippie/stoner/metalhead. He actually had a professional come in and tweak his face, but seriously, he still looks old and wrinkly. But he’s got a great head of hair and an expression like a chunky nine-month old Aryan baby, so that works for him.
Honestly, I look better than his “after” picture, but that doesn’t prevent me from wanting to get a sander and just smooth out those creases in the manner that I wield an iron against pleated chinos. I mean, if Sharron Stone can do it, why can’t I? Oh, yeah, she’s a millionaire. And she still has smile lines that look like they could snap like a dried rubber band at any second.
Still, she looks better than most of post-surgery Hollywood. Every time I consider Botox, I remind myself of Meg Ryan and Melanie Griffith and the “chin ladies,” Suzanne Somers and Priscilla Presley, who seem to have injected gravel into their chins, quite the opposite of smoothing:
We want our celebrities to be the beautiful people, eye candy, the standard-setters of beauty. We need something to aspire to, right? I have to admit that last month when I watched The Way Way Back (to see Steve Carell because all the world loves a Steve Carell), I was a bit offput by Toni Collette’s ability to move her facial muscles all across her face. My first thought was, “Why is she letting herself be in a movie for all the free world to see–with a forehead as crinkly as all get-out?” But then I decided that it matched the character of the everywoman, so it made sense, and why shouldn’t she be allowed to just look like an average human being, warts and all? Perhaps she has already had something done, but at least she doesn’t look like a Halloween mask. I’d rather watch her moving parts on the big screen than hear the chin ladies deny rumors of plastic surgery.
So I’m watching–yes–another episode of the FINAL (gasp!) season of What Not To Wear, while wearing a crazy cute floral skirt and blouse myself, feeling confident and yet saddened by the former Jennifer Keaton of Family Ties fame, played by Miss Tina Yothers. First off, I can easily get past her substantial weight gain; we all get old and puffy (even Renee Zellweger at times). But I cannot get past her black Goth hair. Right now, she is telling Ted, the stylist, “Once you go black…” But, in this case, that is untrue. I had black hair when I was 17 years old, but I’m not 17 anymore. You CAN go back. I realize this is a free country, and I realize this is also a rerun, so I should have gotten over it by now, but I simply cannot. There is freedom, and then there is sanity. Freedom of fashion choice does not exclude one from the NEED to dress age-appropriately. Or wear age-appropriate hair. You might look pretty cute in pigtails or a Crissy Snow side-pony, but you wouldn’t go in public like that over the age of 12.
There are only four reasons to have black hair if you are a porcelain-skinned white girl like Miss Tina:
1) You were born with it.
2) You are Katy Perry (herself a natural blonde who will probably grow it back out once she matures).
3) You are Veronica from Archie comics.
4) You are Snow White.
Now back to Tina. For one thing, she says she hasn’t tried clothes on in a dressing room in “like five or six years.” WTH? Do you know many how styles have come and gone in six years? You think six years isn’t much? Think about your cell phone six years ago. Think about your laptop and your old beige monitor. Having kids is not an excuse for giving up. Don’t be that woman in pajamas at Wal-Mart. You are better than that. It’s not about being trendy or even about vanity; it’s about being the best version of yourself.
Tina, like another guest named Teresa (“T”) whom they tackled on Season 8, has a fear of wearing dresses. I DO NOT GET THIS!! Admittedly, T had some serious issues she needed to work through, regarding mandatory Catholic school uniforms or something like that, so now T is rebelling (too old to rebel) against society and now nobody tells T to put a dress on. In fact, T often gets mistaken for a male. She wears men’s clothing, wifebeaters, and Crocs. I wonder if she goes by “T” because the name “Teresa” is not masculine enough? All I know is T has a winning smile and lots of potential. Rejoice in what you are: a woman. And cute, too boot! You don’t have to prance around like Shania Twain, declaring, “Man, I feel like a woman!” But sweet Mary and Joseph, I think feminists go so far trying to be the Anti-Barbie that they might as well grow their armpit hair out and wear a cup. You can sit in the middle of the see saw, sweetie. You don’t have to soar to the end of the spectrum. T even admitted at the end of the show, “This process has shown me you can be powerful and still be soft.” What what?
And, yes, I understand that Jane Lynch and Ellen Degeneres are never going to be out buying A-line skirts and flouncy dresses, but why is this a hurdle for straight women? If you enjoy your femininity, why do you abhor dresses? Do you feel objectified or sexualized? Dresses are actually pretty freeing, and your thighs stay well-ventilated. Shallow or not, most women want to feel attractive. They want to have a good hair day more than they would EVER want world peace, and they want their lashes to look full and not to have raccoon circles under their eyes. You can talk a good game upside down about how you want equal pay for equal work, but you know a good support bra and panties that don’t ride up rank right up there, too. Keep this mantra in mind: It’s nearing the end of the show, and Tina is wearing a coral dress and a black blazer. She just said, “I feel like a woman…It’s beautiful, and I love it!” Yes! Victory! One week under the tutelage of Clint and Stacey, and her broken brain got unbroken. They fixed it, reprogrammed it to the default setting, which is XX chromosomes=embrace your womanhood. Look, it’s 2013. We’re not cattle rustlers in the Old West, forced to wear long, hot skirts in the heat and dust. You shouldn’t have to ride sidesaddle in a skirt. I get that. You should have the right to throw some trousers and chaps on.
But guess what? We can vote now, so go ahead and wear your clamdiggers and your slimming jeans and even your yoga pants with the holes in the crotch. But don’t walk into a clothing store, having already written off half the inventory. Rock a dress or skirt every now and again. There is a balance between Amish and skank. Find it. And BTW, it’s soooo much quicker to pee if you’re in a dress. Just lift and go.
Now Tina is looking in the mirror, giddy, saying, “I can’t believe I’m wearing a scarf.” There you go–she not only conquered the dress obstacle, but cruised right on into accessorizing. And that black hair might just be growing on me… Either way, It’s a new and improved Tina. You go, girl.
I just saw this on Pinterest and had to share. Doesn’t he look just like Carl on Disney Pixar’s Up? It’s not my favorite movie ever, but it contains the sweetest four-minute love story of all time, perfectly wordlessly conveying the joy of new love, the sadness of miscarriage, the excitement of adventure, and the loss of a spouse. If you haven’t seen it, do yourself a favor and spend four minutes with Carl and Ellie (the graphics alone are so stylish and indicative of the era):
NBC has been advertising its new summer show, The Winner Is, all week, and as much as I enjoy Nick Lachey (and am glad for him that he finally became a daddy after a decade of waiting), I cannot take time out of the second half of my life to watch this. I spent last season cheering for Blake Shelton’s team on The Voice, and frankly, I’m exhausted. I had bristled at the thought of both Usher and Shakira as judges, but they won me over, and now I’d prefer to never see li’l Cee Lo or Diva Aguilera set foot on stage again. But I digress.
One of the clips NBC continues to pimp (while I’m TRYING to get my Hoda and Kathy Lee fix–all Kristen Wiig’s fault) of the new singing competition shows yodelers. Is this a new trend? Really? I was forced to watch Heidi Klum teach Bradley Cooper to yodel on The Tonight Showa couple months ago, and I’m pretty sure she did it again on America’s Got Talent last month. And is it NEWS that Jewel can yodel? Is it news she used to sleep in her car? I thought we all got the memo on that in 1995. I don’t need to hear her yodel again, with or without snaggletooth. I admit it’s preferable to hearing any of her hits, vacillating between her awkward lower register and what I like to refer to as her higher “toddler voice.” Her goo-goo ga-ga voice. Honestly, I’m yodeled out.
I do admit I was mildly amused by Jimmy Fallon and Brad Pitt’s yodeling skit last month, but mainly because they weren’t taking themselves too seriously. For my money, that’s his best acting job since Benjamin Button.
Look, unless you’re a singing cowboy (Roy Rogers or Gene Autry R.I.P.), leave yodeling alone. It’s not like it has lyrics the rest of us can sing along with. It’s not soothing, good to dance to, or helpful during a break-up. It’s like a gussied-up hog call. Don’t do it.
Let it go the way of country singer Slim Whitman, who passed away last month at the age of 90. Never heard of him? He was quite the yodeler. Per the New York Times article, “Michael Jackson named Mr. Whitman one of his 10 favorite vocalists. George Harrison credited him as an early influence. Paul McCartney said Mr. Whitman gave him the idea of playing the guitar left-handed.” And don’t even get me started on his impressive ‘stache.
In a couple of days, bloggers everywhere will be posting about the fourth anniversary of Michael Jackson’s passing. Many less will mention Farrah Fawcett, who passed on the same day. Farrah, who changed the spelling of her first name from Ferrah, was a hair and fashion icon to girls of the 1970s, despite the fact that she only spent one season on Charlie’s Angels. Although her legacy does not impact the world in the way that Jackson’s does, I wanted to give her a shout out.
We can see these images in our minds: Farrah with the healthy glow, Farrah on the skateboard, Farrah in the infamous Mexican blanket swimsuit poster, too cliche for me to post. Long before The Burning Bed, the ups and downs with long-time lover Ryan O’ Neal, and the crazy stint on Letterman–the same year she turned 50 and posed in Playboy–she was a stunner. And presumably sane.
Yes, it’s an award post. But less creative on my part. First, thanks to Yvette at http://strawberryquicksand.wordpress.com/2013/06/15/1353/ for nominating me. She drives a bus, I don’t at all resent her for being a dozenish months younger than I, and she teaches me new phrases in the Australian English language. Now I know what “quite the pong” means, and I intend to use it. And she has the keen sense to pick up on my almost tangible sweetness. So let me get to it.
THE 5 SWEET QUESTIONS
1. Cookies or Cake? – Cookies. Especially cowboy cookies. I don’t like cake. I didn’t even want a wedding cake at my wedding. It’s like eating a sponge. So I let my husband have German chocolate cake, and I got blackberry pie, enough for all the guests. Do I remember eating any? No, but there is a picture of me doing so, one of the few actual bites I ate of anything we ponied up thousands of dollars for. Good thing I didn’t spill blackberry on my white wedding dress, which BTW was never cleaned, and is sitting on a hanger in the upstairs bedroom, waiting to be worn by the daughter I never had.
2. Chocolate or Vanilla? – Chocolate. Vanilla is for people with bland palates, people who don’t take risks, people who order CHEESE pizza. Really? Cheese is part of pizza to begin with. It’s like ordering a bread sandwich.
3. Favorite Sweet Treat? – Dark chocolate raspberry cheesecake from The Cheesecake Factory got me as close to the When Harry Met Sally diner scene as I’ll ever get, but since we’re in a recession, living on poverty wages, I’ll have to answer with something I eat daily, which is Walgreen’s honey-roasted cashews. I know, it sounds tame, but they’re like meth to me. I eat them hourly, despite how many points Weight Watchers says they are. A pox on you, Jennifer Hudson!
4. When do you crave sweet things most? – At conscious moments. From the moment I awaken, when I pour peppermint mocha creamer in my freshly-ground coffee, until I go to bed during Jimmy Fallon, thinking about how in only a few hours, I will be putting creamer in my coffee.
5. Sweet Nickname – Sugarbritches. No, I wish. I don’t have a nickname.
So look, you guys. I have spent the last few days, going to each one of the bloghouses that my Aussie Strawberry galpal listed, and there is NO WAY I could top that. I realized that the sites I visit are usually happy, funny blogs, because I self-medicate with humor, wine, and food. I’m like a walking e-card.
But I realized it’s actually possible to enjoy non-humor-based blogs. So I will just encourage you to take the time to read the others whom she nominated. They’ll put whichever cross your bearing into perspective, give you insight, and hopefully broaden your horizons. Having traveled almost nowhere, my scope of experience is fairly limited. So here they are, in her own words:
Arash Recovery – Arash is an unbelievable story of tenacity and determination. Arash suffered a devastating injury that has left him paralysed. His blog is about the recovery process and his never-say-die attitude.
View From a Walking Frame – Nicola has cerebral palsy. This is her blog on how she gets through life, from going out to dinner, to catching buses to shoe shopping. She is one hell of a chick. Check out her blog for some light hearted laughs.
The Fascinating Life of Eliot Benvie – Eliot is a teenaged Scottish schoolboy who writes a very articulate and interesting blog about his daily life, his views on the world, and everything in-between.
Yummy Lummy – Gary is a doctor who loves food. I love his blog because we live in the same city and it gives me a chance to work out what restaurants are good to go to and which ones might suck a little bit.
Blink Packing – Josh and his little family of three are almost done with a trip around the USA in a 1963 Shasta caravan. Josh’s blog is really interesting as it opens one’s eyes to the greater USA, vintage caravan and small child in tow. Josh’s adventures are ones that will stay with him for a lifetime and will hopefully inspire you to live your dream.
My Midlife Mayhem – Louisa is a ballsy chick from Sydney who tells it how it is. Her family stories revolve around The Old Man, and her teenage kids, Nerd Child and Kurt (the ADHDer).
The life and Times of Nathan Badley – Nathan has to be one of my favourite blog posters. When checking my emails, if I see one pop up from Nathan Badley’s blog, I will immediately read it, and invariably end up holding my sides, tears of laughter pouring down my face.
My Accidental Adventure – Jesse is a young-at-heart older fellow who is currently living out a childhood dream and working on a Dude Ranch in Colorado. This summer appointment follows a necessary move to the mountains where Jesse and his lovely have had to forge a whole new life for themselves. Check out his blog for some lovely stories and awesome photos of the wilderness.
Thanks again to Yvette, and congratulations to her as well!
Ummm, am I blind? I think she could qualify as a raving beauty. I mean, come on. Fellas, would you kick this Technicolor lady out of your bed?
but this one–
I Don't Get It 