Featuring...
muse-letter \’myüz-‘le-tər noun
1: a personal message, inspired by a muse of one's own creation, addressed to a person or organization, in the course of which, the sender becomes absorbed in thought, especially turning something over in the mind meditatively and often inconclusively.
2: a letter from a poet, or one who envisions oneself as such, in which he or she “muses” on that which is perceived to be news, or newsworthy, usually in some ironic or absurd way.
pre November 2018
Parts of the site under reconstruction
Capt. Nemo played by James Mason
in deep-doo doo in the deep blue sea.
Ron Vazzano
Ron Vazzano
"
"
Back in the U.S.S.R.?
It was a bit weird there for a while. Putin, an autocratic poisoner of critics, acting like a pussycat. One day even extending a paw with a soccer ball atop it, as if to befriend a puppy.
Then proceeded to preen in the glow of exoneration by the ball-recipient, that he, Vladimer Pussycat, did not meddle in our 2016 elections. “I don’t see why he would,” reasoned the puppy.
Despite the ball said Paul... as in Ryan, as in Speaker of the House, “Russia interfered in our election and continues attempts to undermine democracy here and around the world. The president must appreciate that Russia is not our ally.” Ten years ago in a Presidential debate Mitt Romney, said similarly, “Russia is our biggest enemy.” Reagan was fond of calling it the Evil Empire.
On February 24th, five weeks ago, the pussycat extended its claws, while turning into that Russian Bear we knew so well. Now reappearing as if coming out of hibernation what with the winter winding down. It invaded Ukraine. And while doing so, issued a dare. Don’t intervene.
A Reminder of the days of the big Red Scare. Back in the U.S.S.R. You don’t know how unlucky you are boy, back in the U.S.S.R.
I wonder if it’s time, after about twenty years, to throw this Beatles-licensed tie away? A silly question?
Yet at the moment, any artistic or cultural expression that seems to support or not denounce
this "retro Russia," is verboten. If I still wore ties, I don't know if I wear this one in public.
Even though the U.S.S.R. no longer exists. Though given Putin’s outreach, in his
mind it still does. And ask Anna Netrebko, opera superstar fired from The Met for
not denouncing Putin, if this is not an issue. I'll call it Cultural Overlap.
1953. Stalin is dead. Good. Stalin, bad!
Scary unifrom too. I’m 8. A so called "De-Stalinization" then took place. At that age all I knew was the Department of Sanitation. Either way, a cleaning up was in progress.
In light of Putin’s aggression, remembrances of previous wrestling bouts with this bear in times gone by, have been popping up in my mind. And the havoc and uncertainties it sometimes wrought, even outside the ring, in a manner of speaking.
It was followed by the Army-McCarthy hearings in 1954.
I will not claim to remember much of it, other than sitting among adults, who were watching, transfixed. TV was still young, the screen was small, the images were in black and white— fidgeting with the antenna being a critical part of the experience. The ABC network ran it in full. They had no other daytime programming.
I remember the scene of lots of men around a table. One was Joe McCarthy. The word “Communists” being thrown about. Communists = Russia. Russia = enemy. The guys in
black hats. And Joe? Good guy... bad guy? I don’t remember anyone saying. But I could tell this was serious grownup stuff. The room in which we watched was quiet.
I didn’t know what Communism meant. But I’d heard the phrase “Better Dead than Red!” So to see this newspaper headline at that candy store on Madison Street right near "Mary-the-tailor’s" (whose sister took numbers), was a bit shocking. I didn’t need “Being the Ricardo’s” to remind me of that revelation. “Lucy, you gah some 'splaining to do.” I never noticed the irony of her possibly being “Red” and having such red hair. (Better dyed than red?).
This ugly guy Khruschev was saying “We will bury you.” And on another day, there he was, like an a-hole, banging his fists on the table at the U.N. Some say with a shoe in one hand. (Not verified). What sane person does that? And the scary thing is, he had gotten the upper hand on us.
Not only were they winning the space race, but now they had also shot down one of our spy planes that May. Better known as the U-2 incident. Ike. You gah some 'splaining to do. The pilot Francis Gary Powers had a cyanide capsule to kill himself with if caught. He didn’t take it. I remember the discussions on James Street. Some draft-age guys in the neighborhood, who never served a day in the military, claiming they would have swallowed it. Yeah, right.
Oh, they called themselves, Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, but we knew better. They were Communists! Evil. They could decide to bomb us at any time. So we practiced hiding under our desks. The kind that still had an inkwell. But the ink long gone.
I remember the concern after they sneakily launched something called Sputnik. What did that mean? That they could control the skies? Go beyond our radar? And not even our desks could protect us? So the Space Race was on. And they were winning. Big time. Goddamn these Russians.
Then came that one bright moment known as Camelot. (Who knew?).
"I believe that this Nation should commit itself to achieving the goal, before this decade is out,
of landing a man on the Moon and returning him safely to Earth..."
...declared a charismatic JFK. Really? What was he smoking?
Just a year and a half later, 1962, came “The Cuban Missile Crisis.” Soviet missiles in Cuba aimed at us. Which could have led to World War III. We held our breath. World War III was averted through negotiations. We exhaled. The missiles were removed. More on this, this October; the 60th anniversary of that crisis.
The possibility of World War III now? Which is something we'd heard bandied about after the invasion of Ukraine. One possible trigger being, if the United States or a NATO ally should overstep their bounds— in the beady eyes of Putin— in defending Ukraine. Like say, put in a no fly zone. Though that sort of talk has cooled of late. Though you never know.
The beginning of the end of the Cold War came in 1989. And unlike Humpty Dumpty, it was the wall that fell this time. “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down that wall.” You tell’em Ronnie!
All of that was then. Though the echoes from those decades reverberate now. You can change the flag, but you can’t change a nation, if its ruler left his moral compass on the bus. Or whose psyche has gone off the rails. As history has repeatedly shown, it takes but one wayward ego to bring nations to their knees. And as the old radio melodrama once intoned, “Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men.”
Well, one particular history professor who was born in Ukraine, Dr. Sergei Zhuk, knows.
“It’s 2022. It’s the 100th anniversary of the creation of the Soviet Union. The first republics which created this union were Russia, Belarus, Ukraine, and three republics from the Caucuses — Georgia, Armenia, and Azerbaijan. One of the first Soviet republics was Ukraine, and his (Putin’s) first goal is to restore this situation.”
And in so doing...
“... humiliate America, which, in his imagination, destroyed the Soviet Union.“
Today Ukraine. And tomorrow? But not so fast. Not if this man has anything to say about it.
Jackie Robinson on the 75th
This April 15th marks the 75th anniversary of Jackie Robinson’s breaking the “color barrier" in 1947.
This so called color barrier was erected in 1884 after, and perhaps because of, Moses Fleetwood Walker. He was a black man (and unlike William Edward White who played beforehand, passed for white, and self-identified as such), who played in the major leagues for 42 games. But more on Walker, an interesting figure in his own right, in May’s MuseLetter.
This in no way diminishes the great American story that is Jackie Robinson. Who was selected for this “experiment,” because he had the talent and temperament to handle what was to come his way. And he succeeded on both counts.
He not only became a part of American history the very moment he stepped onto the field, but he would go on to become a star and an icon. His legacy is known by baseball fans and non-fans alike.
It seems like only yesterday that baseball was heralding the 50th anniversary of his debut. In attendance that April 15th in 1997, among the sold-out crowd of 50,000 at Shea Stadium, was Robinson’s widow Rachel (with their daughter and grandson) surrounded by such luminaries as President Bill Clinton, the Commissioner of Baseball Bud Selig, Spike Lee (a perennial presence at New York sporting events), Jesse Jackson, and legendary baseball superstars Reggie Jackson and Sandy Koufax.
Commissioner Selig, proclaimed that "No. 42 belongs to Jackie Robinson for the ages." And he proceeded to bestow an honor that had never been done before (or since in any sport). Jackie Robinson's jersey number 42, would never be worn again by a player on any of the 30 teams in Major League Baseball. Excepting current players who were wearing it, and would be allowed to until their retirement.
In concert with this event, a three-day conference at LIU, Brooklyn was held entitled Jackie Robinson; Race, Sports and the American Dream. At which, a number of scholars, former baseball stars, journalists and authors gathered to explore Robinson’s social, political and athletic legacy. Which in short, can be summed up in what the Conference Director and LIU History Professor Joe Dorrinson had long since maintained in his teachings:
“Babe Ruth changed baseball. But Jackie Robinson changed America,
which in the long run is more important.”
Poems in dedication and remembrance of Jackie were also selected for reading on the occasion, including a short one of my own. I was living in LA at the time and unable to attend. Reprised here as it appeared in my
In 2004, a further tribute regarding Robinson’s uniform number was installed that was almost surreal. One that flies in the face of that traditional cry once heard by in-stadium vendors... "Ya can't tell the players without a scorecard!" For each game played every April 15th, every player is to wear that number.
It is unknown as of this writing whether any such type of honor or ceremony is planned by Major League Baseball commemorating this upcoming 75th anniversary.
I’ve always been curious as to what the atmosphere or anticipation was like for that first game Robinson played in 1947. Things that are hard to measure, but might be hinted at in the attendance numbers. Other questions I've always had...how did Robinson fare in the game itself? What was said afterwards? A quick rounding of the Google bases provides some answers.
There were about 24,000 on hand at Ebbetts Field that day. A number that varies according to the source reporting it. But far short of the 34,000 seat capacity. And surprisingly, it would wind up being even below the average attendance for a Dodger game that year. This despite being announced beforehand that Robinson would play.
It was also opening day. On which, traditionally, all baseball games tend to sell out in virtually all baseball parks. So could racial prejudice (even here in the “great melting pot” of New York City), have played a part in that under-attendance?
But African Americans were not about to miss this moment. Though only representing 9% of New York City’s population at the time—only 7% that of Brooklyn’s—they comprised almost 50% of those in attendance that day!
I could find no account of fan reaction when his name was announced over the public address system for the first time. Nor when he left the dugout to assume his position as the first baseman. Which was not his usual position. As if he needed any more pressure.
As to what he might have been feeling? And his game performance? One can draw conclusions on the former from this photo on the left, and in words of summation on the right.
The reporting afterwards, depended on the source. Most “white” newspapers played down the event. Merely reporting on it all as if it were just another game of no particular importance or significance. And if offering praise, it could sometimes come off as patronizing. Arthur Daley, a sportswriter for The New York Times was an example of this.
“The muscular Negro minds his own business and shrewdly makes no effort to push himself. He speaks quietly and intelligently when spoken to and already has made a strong impression. ‘I was nervous in the first play of my first game at Ebbets Field,’ he (Robinson) said with his ready grin, ‘but nothing has bothered me since.’”
The black press, as you might expect, approached it otherwise. As reported in one chronicle...
“They (the newspapers) recorded Robinson's every move, hung on every word, detailed every swing. Each inning, they noted where he sat in the dugout - and with whom. They polled fans at Ebbets Field on Robinson's chances. After the game, they followed him from the clubhouse, past throngs of cheering fans, and squeezed into his car for one last quote.”
A ten year career ensued. Which would have been much longer had he been allowed to play before he reached age 28; “old” for a rookie. And it was a decade of several achievements. Rookie of the Year Award for 1947... All-Star for six consecutive seasons from 1949-1954... National League Most Valuable Player Award in 1949. It came to an end after his last at bat the 1956 World Series (won by the Yankees). In 1962, he was inducted into the National Baseball Hall of Fame.
A diabetic, along with other health issues for a number of years, perhaps owing in part to the racial abuse and stress he had to endure in his baseball days, he suffered a fatal heart attack on October 24, 1972 at age 53. Just nine days after his last public appearance at the World Series, in which he threw out the first ball.
In a coda to his life and legacy, I can’t help but think that these words apply to Jack Roosevelt Robinson in every way in this month's...
Quote of the Month
We Aren’t Just Watching the Decline of the Oscars.
Is This the End Of the Movies?
Such is the title of an essay written by Ross Douthart that appeared in the Week in Review of The New York Times Sunday on March 27th; the day of the Academy Awards. You may have seen it. And read it. If not, and if possible, I would highly recommend it. And here, I will quote from it extensively, highlighting some of the salient points he made that jumped out at me. Not to say I’m in agreement with all of them, but they are interesting and merit consideration. I’ve interspersed commentary along the way.
Douthart, is a Times opinion columnist, who usually writes from a conservative point of view about politics, religion, and as one thumbnail sketch put it, he is an “assiduous analyst of American life.” And as movies having been embedded within our lives and culture, almost since their beginning, he is "assiduous" about them in this essay. Starting with his opening line about the Oscars:
“The Oscars are declining because the movies they were made to showcase have been slowly disappearing.”
(Of course he wrote this essay prior to The Slap. Which is certain to put a halt to this trend of sinking ratings at least temporarily next year, regardless of who is hosting. Imagine Chris Rock in that role?).
He then offers his favorite theory which seems to put a finger on it.
“The ideal Oscar nominee is a high-middlebrow movie, aspiring to real artistry and sometimes achieving it, that’s made to be watched on the big screen, with famous stars, vivid cinematography and a memorable score. It’s neither a difficult film for the art-house crowd nor a comic-book blockbuster but a film for the largest possible audience of serious adults— the kind of movie that was commonplace in the not so distant days when Oscar races regularly threw up conflicts in which every movie goer had a stake: ‘Titanic’ against ‘L.A. Confidential,’ ‘Saving Private Ryan’ against ‘Shakespeare in Love,’ ‘Braveheart’ against “Sense and Sensibility” against ‘Apollo 13.’”
He goes on to note that “9 of the 10 nominated films this year made less than $40 million in domestic box office.” Of course Covid has played a huge part in the last couple of years in precipitous box office decline. It’s hard to see a movie in a theater when its doors are locked. But this has been happening even before the plague.
The threat to the business of movie-making and the movie-going experience has been a long time coming...
“...fore-shadowed in the second spread of television, the invention of the VCR, the rise of Cable TV. The internet, the laptop, the iPhone habituated people to small screens, personalized entertainment, isolated viewing and intermittent watching... the opposite of cinema’s communalism.”
Collectively, echoing Norma Desmond’s cry...”It’s the pictures that got small.”
Yes, Norma. One of the milestone moments that got lost in all the drama of The Slap, was that CODA became the first film made by a streaming service— Apple+ —to win an Oscar for Best Picture.
A few personal experiences regarding some of Douthart’s summations on viewing trends, follow.
Regarding the impact of the TV screen, it really has been a long time coming. When television—the new kid on the block— exponentially grew in the 1950’s, there was great concern that people would stop going to the movies. So extreme was this concern, that I remember our local theater giving away a free dinner plate (on Tuesday nights), to incentivize attendance. (I spent a lot of evenings going to the movies with my mother). It took over a half of a century, but that concern has come to be realized. Though where are the dishes in response?
Cable TV took a long time to “rise” and take hold as an impactful viewer option for original entertainment. Being in the advertising industry, I once wrote a trade piece in the mid-eighties where I challenged the infatuation with Cable (the new pretty girl in class), which was nowhere near the Big Three networks in terms of ratings and quality. Where’s her “The Cosby Show,” “Family Ties,” “Hill Street Blues” “Cheers” “Dallas” “Golden Girls, “SNL,” I stridently asked. Now I would ask, where are the shrinking Big Three’s “Sopranos,” “Breaking Bad,” “Game of Thrones,” “Mad Men,” etc.
As for “intermittent watching,” I wonder why I’m able to sit unflinchingly for two to three hours in a movie theater, and yet in viewing at home, interruptions are a given. Pause... to go to the bathroom. Pause... to go get a snack (or make one). Pause... to offer commentary. Rewind... to listen to a line for a second or third time. Toy with the volume. I would venture that many share this voyeur interruptus. Which beyond the impact of a big screen, great acoustics, and in a communal setting (I’m always interested in audience reaction), lies another reason I still want to "go see a movie"—self-discipline.
So where will all this go? Is this really the end of movies?
Douthart offers some recommendations to thwart this trend. For the most part, they are aspirational and long term (the bullet-point format, mine).
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He wonders, if it’s possible to imagine a modest renaissance for movies that trade some potential global reach for more specific American appeal. The more global the box office goal, the simpler the story lines and dialogue. So as to make them translatable worldwide. Where pictures need to speak far louder than words. In other words, action movies. Everyone understands a spectacular blowup of something. I would think the novelty of computer-generated effects which have been around since the late 90’s years, (“a new age of cinematic wonder”), would have worn off by now.
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Fewer previews. Currently, the goal seems to be “cram as many trailers (especially eardrum-shattering, action-movie ones), and ads (remember when they were booed in theaters?), as possible, in front of those billion-dollar movies.” And “squeezing out as many ticket and popcorn dollars. All of which makes movie going much less attractive to grownups looking for a manageable night out.”
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Different pricing structures and lower ticket costs. Personally, it is the absurd costs of going to a movie, that unless it’s “must-see-immediately” (or horrors, be out of the loop) will often result in us saying, “We’ll catch it on TV.” (Despite the many interruptions previously mentioned).
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“Lovers of theater, opera, ballet have long understood that certain forms of aesthetic experience won’t be sustained and handed down automatically. ”Movie lovers should do the same. Especially, "in our current cultural climate, to inoculate adult tastes over and above adolescent ones.” Even teaching film appreciation in Liberal Arts programs. (Though Liberal Arts majors are also dramatically decreasing).
And there you have it according to Douthart. And if his outlook seems bleak, the numbers seem to support his assessment. Ticket sales had been trending down for 17 years even before the pandemic hit. And it estimated that 12% of movie theaters across the U.S. have seen their last picture show. Further hampering any hopes of a full recovery. However that can now be defined in a post-pandemic world.
finito