Girls, It Is Time To Bring Back The Grind House!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                       There is trash, and there is trash!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                      I am not talking about the 2007 knockoff by Quentin "Talentless" Tarantino, but the real thing--the sleaze palaces of old that show provocatively exploitational films.  You know, like "Driller Killer--" oh my God, girls, such fun--or Russ Meyer's "Faster Pussycat, Kill Kill."

                                        There is even better stuff out there. Generally curated by overweight middle aged male losers still living at home with their mother--might be a serial killer--but whose one talent is how to build a theater and a rep for sleaze cinema.  Not porn, darlings, but sleaze.

                                        When West 42nd Street in Manhattan was Sleazeville, there were at least one or more of these grind houses.  How about branching out to the boroughs--oh, my God, the violence prone Bronx would be perfect for one, as would sleazy parts of Brooklyn and Queens.  I am not including Staten Island here, because it is already a grind house in itself.

                                           Of course, many of this material's patrons would have to come by Uber, as they would not be seen walking in these neighborhoods.  I mean, what chance would they have to stay alive???????????????  I include myself in here, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                             But imagine a full evening of sleaze in a trashy environment??????????? What a different kind of fun!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                               Sometimes, old is better than new!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Darlings, Who Would Have Thought This Bit Of Charm Is In New Jersey?????????????????????????

                             This almost reminds me of the Whistle Stop Cafe in "Fried Green Tomatoes."

                               "Lucille's Luncheonette" is actually located in some town I never heard of in New Jersey called Barnegal.   I certainly want to go there.  And, girls, just look at the cute mascot out front.

                                   That tells me it is somewhere in South Jersey, because that is a replica of the Jersey Devil, the legendary creature who dwells in the Pine Barrens.   Isn't he cute?  I just want to cozy up next to it, and have my picture taken, darlings.  I am sure I would not be the first visitor to do so.  But what does one wear when going to South Jersey??????????

                                    This is one of those oddities that makes New Jersey SO New Jersey.  To think of what I am still discovering about my heritage.  And at the age of 71.  Though my professional age is 24, darlings, and don't you forget it.

                                       What an emblem of charm.  I cannot wait to visit it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                         I wonder what is their culinary special??????????????????

                                   

"Fryin' 'Mother's Oats' In Grease!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                                 Darlings, speaking of closet cases, I happen to be a closet Plantation Princess.

                                 Oh, the South is too warm and politically out of touch for me to live there, but that does not mean I can't relate to Vivien Leigh as Scarlett or Rue McClanhan as Blanche.  That is Blanche Devereaux, darlings, not DuBois.

                                      A real Southun' breakfast is frying "Mother's Oats," or "Quakers'" in grease.  It will make you feel like you are dining at Tara in your best frock.  Thank God I have David who would have to help lace me up in that corset.

                                         What a Southun' way to start the day!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                            And since now I do eat my oatmeal close to raw, I am halfway there anyway.

                                            Maybe I will be elected Magnolia Queen!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Is Norman Bates Filmdom's Most Notorious Closet Case?????????????????????????????

                                    Alfred Hitchcock made a smart decision in casting good looking Anthony Perkins as Norman Bates.  Serial killers hide in plain sight, and if Norman were to venture in public among a crowd, heads might turn, but no one would suspect this young man to be a serial killer.

                                     Those having seen "Psycho" know Norman is a serial killer, because, while he is seen murdering Marion (Janet Leigh) and Pendergast (Martin Balsam) it is revealed he has killed other girls and tossed their bodies into the swamp, which is a landkill.

                                          But I am here to write about Norman as a closet case.  From my experience, I have found them to be the most dangerous gays alive. Now, Norman was raised in isolation with his mother, Norma.  That does not necessarily make one homosexual, but she instilled in him a hatred for other women, and if he found himself attracted, well, after her death, we know what happened.

                                           And how about that bedroom, with the messy bed, teddy bears, dolls and other antiquities?  This is the bedroom of a deranged child, and one can only guess what Norman fantasizes about when in bed.

                                               Norman has never had a sexual experience in his life.  Now, take a good look when he and Sam Loomis (John Gavin) are chatting at the hotel front desk, while Lila (Vera Miles) goes on to search the house.  As Loomis talks to Norman, he becomes more and more nervous, and Perkins as an actor does this thing with his one hand where he is continually tapping the hotel desk while he talks, almost as if he was doing this unconsciously.  I maintain his suppressed homosexuality is looming, because, I mean, John Gavin, hubba hubba!  And the idea of he and Perkins, hubba hubba.

                                                  I think this scene shows Norman nursing and trying to fight off a hidden attraction to men.  This ends when he realizes Lila is gone, and cleverly figures out where, and knocks Gavin out to look for her.

                                                    The next time you watch "Psycho," darlings, pay close attention to this scene.  Not only does it reveal Norman as a closet case, but I maintain it demonstrates that if Norman was not caught and institutionalized he, as "Mother," would not only go on to kill  more young girls, or, if that supply should run out, then attractive young men would suddenly vanish.

                                                        Yes, Norman is a closet case.  And if I had been that fly at the end, I would have gotten off that hand fast!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Happy Ash Wednesday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                         Remember, no meat today.  This is a time for reflection as Lent begins.  More important than giving up chocolate bars is what is in your heart.  Take some time to examine such, each and every day during this forty day period.

                         Whether or not getting ashes, one can still recall what Jesus did for us, and be thankful that because of such we are here.

                             Happy Ash Wednesday, girls!!!!!!!!!!  May you have a blessed Lent!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The First Two Important Deaths Of The Year!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                Back in the Fall of 1968, when "To Kill A Mockingbird" was first shown on national television, I had no idea who this guy was playing the reclusive Boo Radley.

                                  Several years later, I was at a screening of "The Godfather," and was struck by not only how good looking Al Pacino was back then, but how striking an actor the performer playing Tom Hagen was.  That actor I later learned was Robert Duvall, and I was astonished to learn that he was the same actor who, ten years before, had played Boo Radley in "To Kill A Mockingbird."

                                     While working at The Library Of The Performing Arts, I recall one of my older coworkers saying how he was auditioning for some stage show that Duvall was in, and that the actor read with him.  He said Duvall, unlike many actors, was exceptionally gracious to him.

                                        So, I was saddened to hear of his passing yesterday, though 95 is a good run.  Hey, it is an "A" on a test.  Duvall, no relation to Shelly, is the last of a dying breed, the craft trained working actor, caring more about art then commerce.

                                        Would you believe, darlings, I have never seen "Tender Mercies?"  Duvall won the Best Actor Of 1983 Oscar for that.  Betty Buckley was in it, too.  I must make an effort to see this film.

                                         As stated, Duvall was one of a dying breed.  May he rest in peace.

                                                                             

                               Now, the Reverend Jesse Jackson was a much different figure.  A reverend, political activist, and all-around personality, I cannot say I was into him, but I knew who he was and respected him.  But he absolutely captivated me when he read "Green Eggs And Ham" aloud on "Saturday Night Live!!!!!!!!!!!!"  How many of us recall that??????????????????????????????

                               I just found out about his passing at 84, girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                               May both of these world contributors rest in peace!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                             

                                              

Take A Good Look, Girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This Is The Face Of Grief!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                           Yes, mon petits, it is time to write about the Nancy Guthrie case again.  I am maintaining my promise by not revealing any of my theories, except to say some of those have changed.  And I am sadly beginning to have some doubts.

                           But, first, let me say my heart goes out to Savannah and her siblings.  And I am so happy that all have been dismissed as suspects.

                            Now, that sheriff Chris Namos, of Pima County, which is probably some Podunk place, has no business handling this case.  Once it was established that Nancy was the mother of media personality Savannah Guthrie, he should have stepped down, because he has absolutely no idea how to handle so high a profile case as this, and has made so many mistakes along the way that I am beginning to have doubts.

                                Will the torment ever end for the Guthrie children?  Not if Chris Nanos can help it.  The FBI should have stepped into this as soon as Savannah's name came up!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                   Each day I worry along with America.  My biggest worry now, which I have begun having doubts about, is whether Nancy is still alive.  I fervently hope so, but, whatever the outcome, and one must be found, the Guthrie children deserve some kind of closure.

                                      So here we are.  I promise if all is resolved I will give my complete thoughts on this case.  Meanwhile, girls, pray for Nancy, her children and grandchildren!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!