The Oral Report

Standing up in front of the class was never so much fun!

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Location: River City, United States

The rantings and ravings of a mom of three wonderful girls as she finds new love while working like a dog and shaking her fist at the system. You know. Pretty much like everybody else.

Wednesday, June 28, 2006

JANE! Stop This Crazy Thing!!!

Recently, Highlander and I were watching the extra features on his Season One DVD collection of "Hill Street Blues". I'd love to say that I don't remember the show (not because of the content, but because of the timeline) prior to him getting this set, but that would be a fallacy, and I'm not a liar and I have no use for that particular ilk. And while I'm in my advanced youth (a term Highlander likes to use), I much prefer the maturity and wisdom I have gained and would not willingly choose to go back to those days.

But, I digress.

Veronica Hamel, who was the very sexy and very saucy Joyce Davenport on "Hill Street Blues", looked considerably worse for wear some twenty years later. All the guys I knew (back in the day) drooled in truly Pavlovian fashion whenever her name was uttered. As I remembered that, I kept hearing Ann Reinking belting out "Everything old is new again" from ALL THAT JAZZ in my head. Except, in my head, it was "Everything new is old again".

All the people from my youth are "geezing up on me". And it's not even that I mind so much that I'm getting older. Sure, my hair is a little grayer. My skin isn't quite as taut. (Okay, I'm getting off this 'old lady' train of thought RIGHT NOW!) It's just that when I look at ME in the mirror, I don't so much see my youth fading as this body getting older.

When I see Deborah Harry on the grammy's and have difficulty recognizing her until the music starts. Well, that's a thing. She's supposed to stay a certain way in my memories. Frankly, I'd be willing to bet that a few guys jump on this bandwagon.

All of the icons from my youth...from music and movies and tv...are aging, or worse DYING, and they are certainly making me feel old, but they are, more importantly, tainting my cherished memories. They are supposed to stay young. They are supposed to stay as they were. The way that I remember them.

Certainly, I still can remember what 'Vinny Barbarino' looked like, even though I see the face that John Travolta now wears. Some part of me wants to insist that it's not the same person. That it just couldn't be. The John Travolta I remember was much younger.

Watching Richard Dreyfuss age in MR HOLLAND'S OPUS wasn't bad for me. I knew it was Hollywood magic. But in real life, it was much worse. Have you SEEN him lately? What happened to Roy Neary from CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE THIRD KIND? I'll tell you what happened to him. He turned into an old, old man on me. And that's just not right!

Like Lucy Pevensie and Huck Finn and Alice Liddell and Sara Crewe and...and Peter Pan, for God's sake, I like all of my fictional characters to stay young forever. And these actors are just defiantly refusing to cooperate here.

Let me tell you how bad this stuff gets. As Highlander and I were watching an episode of HILL STREET BLUES the other night, Faye Furillo brought Frank a 40th birthday cake to the squad room. Highlander sighed, "I'm older than Frank Furillo." See. See what this stuff does?

A former employer had a home in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. As did his younger brother. Said younger brother resided there on a full-time basis, and was friends with a number of the locals. Including Harrison Ford. During a stay in Wyoming, said former employer and his brother had occasion to have Mr. Ford over for dinner. Accompanying him was Calista Flockhart. My former employer's nephew, during dinner, as the next course was being served, asked Miss Flockhart if she had enjoyed the soup. When she told the pre-teen fellow that she did, he asked if her grandfather had enjoyed it, too. True story. A zing for Harrison, but it kinda hit me on the bounce back. Worse, though, is the fact that Hans Solo is NOT supposed to be an old guy.

It'd be easier if they all went to the Island of SuperGirlfriend's Mis-fit Memories (aka Neverland) and didn't keep showing up flaunting how they are no longer the aspiring youngsters that they were when I was an aspiring youngster.

Where will it end??? Who's next??? Bobby Sherman? Susan Dey? I don't like it. I don't like it one damned bit!

I'm not saying we need to set up some kind of "Carousel" scenario, but there's bound to be an answer...isn't there?

1 Comments:

Blogger AaA said...

The gems in their palms must have turned red by now...

Maybe someone's found a way to tamper with them.

6/28/2006 11:37 PM  

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