Monday, January 16, 2006

Getting There

(Chauncey with Louise)

Searchblog, in her most recent entry on "Being There" and how it entwined her own life with that of her grandfather, does Mr. Kosinki well. "Being There", starring Peter Sellers, Shirley MacLaine, Melvyn Douglas, and Jack Warden was an oddball picture that came out in 1979. It is a film that did not seem to be American as it was a working from a screenplay written by Jerzy Kosinski, a Polish immigrant, based on his own book. The book, as well as the movie, have the magic realism nowadays associated with the Slavic and south American writers.
As Searchie connected Being There to her grandfather, I have always connected the movie and the book to my father. In his later years, his pronouncements to the family and friends were few and far between, so they were savored when they were made. There were Chauncey-like phrasings that were metaphors somehow connected with our daily activities. His phrases were not to be taken lightly nor to be thought about when one was walking to school as rehashing my father's observations and crossing the street were not mutually executable actions. Having a cafe or bistro around to mull these bon mots over would have been useful tools of thought.

Searchblog lovingly couples Chauncy and her paternal grandfather, two gardeners, of sorts. I do, however, disagree, with the closing passage on her entry, where she quotes, from the book, "A breeze fell upon the foliage and nestled under the cover of its moist leaves. Not a thought lifted itself from Chance's brain. Peace filled his chest.", and then wishes that she were there (A place with no thoughts, I'm assuming) as well. Chauncey's thoughts, in most cases shallow and simplistic, are not ones that one would connect with major brain power, and therefore not ones that would necessarily burden one's brain. Ms. Searchie seems incapable of Chauncey's meager and limited harvest, and we are better for it.

Searchie, my favorite quote from the movie was Louise's, It's for sure a white man's world in America. Look here: I raised that boy since he was the size of a piss-ant. And I'll say right now, he never learned to read and write. No, sir. Had no brains at all. Was stuffed with rice pudding between th' ears. Shortchanged by the Lord, and dumb as a jackass. Look at him now! Yes, sir, all you've gotta be is white in America, to get whatever you want. Gobbledy-gook!
How hilarious of Mr. Kosinski to have the housekeeper utter the Emperor's Clothing line that we in the audience had been screaming the whole time.

Note Bene, one of the main reasons for this post is to comment on Searchblog's post...which I couldn't do on hers. The castle walls are high there, indeed!

I believe the photo is obscuring the opening lines of your blog entry -- unless, like me, you have a valid artistic license, which allows beginning in mid-sentence.
Hmmm, I have a 19" screen and all looks fine. I'll decrease the picture size and hopefully my mid-sentence scream will become an opening sentence calm.
..upon further review, the picture was fine. It was said writer that needed alignment and centering. Alas, I've sent the check and the requisite front and side view photos, but my artistic license has still not arrived. So, I'm still held down by the forces of grammar and spelling, which makes some of my entries a bit thick to get through.
It seems fine now. The first two sentences were, it appears all that were missing.

Or my eyelids may have lowered fractionally as I was standing up. I guess we'll never know.
“The castle walls are high there, indeed!”

Next week, I’m installing a moat – with alligators.

You made it just in time, Darko.
Cherche Searchie.
Mais oui.
I was so caught up mesmerized by the sheer scope of the walls, I'd neglected to see the construction below. Luckily, the moat was dry and no gators (yet) in sight. I'll have to come up with one of those rapelling devices to launch any comments her direction.
Rappelling devices, indeed. I am a woman of the world -- you can't conceal your vile intentions from me, sir. I saw right through those links cleverly disguised as athletic mountain climbing devices:
Intentions of vileness are beneath me. In glancing at your referenced Belay devices, it appears that you've been looking at what I didn't think looking for was worth looking into.
First, I would never suggest such a thing as a belay since it seems to involve using descriptives such as (belay plates) include plate belay devices that are not classified as Sticht plates.
Sticht !, indeed. Why pronouncing that word would require my spitting at you. Certainly not something I've been raised to do.
My reference simply had to do with the verbal ascension of the un-commentable walls surrounding your blog. How would one leave a favorable or admiring comment to one of your entries without resorting I may even have to consider something like this!.

There's got to be an easier way to pass along a compliment!
I have also (silently) lamented the inability to comment on Ms. Searchie's posts. But then, the silent appreciation of another's words and life is sometimes what is most appropriate.
Whisky: If a blog comment is made solely in one’s mind, is it truly a blog comment?

Darko: "Ni!"
Some folks have said it (way) better than I'm capable of.

Chester Burnett

"I asked for water. You gave me gasoline."

Spencer Tracy (remarking about Katherine Hepburn in "Pat & Mike")

"There ain't much meat on her, but what's there is choice." (i.e., Searchie the Blog is slim of pickings and hanging on (of comments) but quite the site to visit)

WP, quite the blog vamp, isn't she?
I'm glad you explained that Spencer Tracy remark, or by Massachusetts custom I'd have to challenge you to a duel. And the glass eye and plastic foot will tell you I'm one serious customer.

By the way, the proper Brooklyn 1940s pronuniation is "cherce."
Bleak Mouse, yeah "cherce" is the way I remember Mr. Tracy pronouncing "choice", but I didn't want to spell it the way he pronounced it as I'd then have to explain that piece of the comment as well.
With your potential threat of a duel, I supposes you've been outed as the protector of Ms. Searchie's...uhm...I'm not sure..her thing that needs protection is the most descriptive I can get, before someone else challenges me to a duel.

What a crumb.
Discussing Getting There has gotten me nowhere.
A duel actually seems a plausible exit from this entry.
Well, I thought it was a wonderful post. Thank you.
Today only, for you, DarkoV, I have enabled comments. Don't disappoint me.
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