February 28, 2014
Dear Everyone:
We’ve had a lovely spot of rain the last few days here in “sunny”
California. The local
weather forecasters are doing handsprings at being able to predict
something besides “partly-cloudy-and-mild” (all one word.)
Top news story:
“Water, falling from the sky!!!
Will there be more?
Film at eleven.”
I once saw a comedian who did a whole routine built on what he called
“Striptease News”, a reference to the television version of newspaper
headlines meant to get you to tune in to the local news broadcast.
What, he wondered, would history be like if it was reported like
that?
-
“President Lincoln didn’t stay through the play at Ford's Theater! We’ll tell you why after the movie.”
-
“How is General Washington spending this year’s Christmas Eve at Valley Forge? Film at eleven!”
-
“What did Queen Cleopatra have hidden in that basket of figs? Find out tonight!”
Moving right along…
A couple of months ago, while attending the
Homeowners Association
meeting, I agreed to serve on the Board for a while.
At the time I didn’t realize that the “position” I would be
filling was that of vice president.
Last week the current president (we’ll call her “Maggie”) sent me an
email asking if I would take on the responsibility of managing the
“petty cash” account since the other Board member, “Pyewacket”, is away
a lot on business. No
problem.
When she brought over the cash, in a tattered old envelope filled with
various receipts and copies-of-a-copy-of-a-copy paper “report” for
accounting for said cash, she also brought her “file”.
It turns out she’s in the process of selling her
condominium here
and buying a place in an “over-55 community” out in
Brentwood.
Guess who’s about to become the de facto president of our homeowners
association. Film at eleven!
On the other hand, through various organizations that I’ve been
associated with, notably ARMA, of course, I’ve realized that a president
who does nothing is still the president.
Until someone else comes along.
We’ll see how it goes.
In the meantime, with the
Academy Awards coming up this weekend,
“Jeannie” and I finally did go and see a movie a couple of weekends ago.
The Monuments Men,
was produced, directed by, and stars
George Clooney, who made no attempt
to hide his “advancing” age.
George plays Frank Stokes, a composite of several art and antiquities
experts, who convinces
President Roosevelt to let him form a special
Army unit devoted to preserving, rescuing and repatriating art treasures
looted by the Germans who are now losing
World War II.
He assembles a “crack team” of museum directors, curators and art
historians.
They have to go through some “basic training” to prepare them for
“action”. This transforms
them not so much into “The Dirty
Dozen” as into the
“Dapper-if-Slightly-Dilapidated-Half-a-Dozen-Or-So”.
But they are nicknamed “The Monuments Men” because it’s quicker
and easier to say. Although,
truth be told, they spend less time trying to save “monuments” than on
more portable works of art.
As for the monuments, you might be thinking, “Heavens!
What would happen to the General responsible for destroying the
Sistine Chapel or something similar?”
First. Remember the
Parthenon? That beautiful
temple built on a hill overlooking the city of
Athens.
During a particularly nasty dispute between the
Ottoman Empire
and Venice in the late 1600s, the Ottomans (i.e., Turks) stored
explosives inside the Parthenon.
The idea was that the
Greeks would never destroy their own most
valuable antiquity.
To which the Greeks said, “Ha!
Blow it up already!”
And they did.
Second: All the Generals in
this particular rendition placed the lives of their soldiers ahead of
anything as esoteric as
Da Vinci’s Last Supper.
(Spoiler Alert: It
survived.)
George has assembled a nice collection of slightly-older actors like
John Goodman and
Bill Murray, along with
Matt Damon (can’t have a World
War II flick without Matt Damon) and
Cate Blanchett.
There are some inside jokes scattered throughout the film.
As when they find a stash of gold, a reference to Clooney’s
Three Kings.
Or when Bill Murray’s character suddenly needs a trip to the
dentist, ala
Little Shop of
Horrors.
As for the minor roles, someone can add to his resume:
“Played the back of President Roosevelt’s, or
President Truman’s,
head”. In all a thoroughly
enjoyable couple of hours.
We must do this again sometime soon.
Love, as always,
Pete
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