Showing posts with label Trad Books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Trad Books. Show all posts
24 November 2013
Me & Orson
Peter Bogdanovich published a bio of Orson Welles in the early '90s. I was married and living in Lake Bluff when the Echo Xray gave me the book for Christmas in 1992 or '93. The bio came with four hours of recorded interviews at numerous locations to include the set of Catch 22 and a NYC taxi where Welles offers the driver a gold doubloon if he'll step on it.
Last year I unsuccessfully looked for the interviews on line since my own tapes have resided in a storage locker somewhere in Northeast Florida for the last seven years. But the internet finally caught up and here they finally are with the first half hour above.
I remember hearing these the first time and being overwhelmed...Not just by the technical insight and gossip...but just hearing Orson fire up another Partagas, hearing ice being swirled in a drink and feeling like I was in the room with him.
Welles, who was from Kenosha, was all over the the north shore of Chicago. Acting as a 13 year old at Ravinia and attending the Todd School for Boys in Woodstock, IL -- I'd drive around listening to these tapes and couldn't stop thinking what a great film they'd inspire. For me, they were so visual -- Maybe they'll be for you as well.
10 December 2012
Trad Xmas List: The Burning House - Blogged in the USA
Foster Huntington, Summer 2011, NYC
I used to pass judgement on dates based on their apartments. An admission of my shallow youth. Meet a girl, have a date or two... get invited back to her apartment. Beyond the obvious: neat vs sloppy, religious vs artist, much was based on their possessions. A collection of "Precious Moments" figurines was reason for immediate flight. Same with Unicorn snow globes. At the other extreme was the gal who showed me four shotguns in her closet. I've discussed my theory before about dating women who own firearms. Don't.
There were the more subtle cases. A lack of character seen through rental furniture, empty book shelves and a small fortune of make up in the bathroom. I mentioned all this one night to Foster on the phone. Shortly afterwards he told me his idea for a blog about what folks would take with them if their house caught on fire. Foster claims the idea came to him at a dinner party where friends discussed on-line dating profiles. Pride of authorship aside, I poo-pooed the idea thinking the 'hip' would use it to tell how hip they were rather than telling their real story.
I was wrong and Foster's book, The Burning House, has been published and his life has changed dramatically. So much for my advice but I still think there's some of my dating experiences in this book. In fact, I find myself oddly attracted to women whose stuff I like while making all kinds of assumptions about the women I don't. Tree huggers. Granola chewers. Small fortunes in make up... My shallowness has been hard to shake. Anyway, it makes for a great Christmas gift at just over ten bucks (here). Absorbing as the web site but easier to browse around in that way you can with a book. Buy a copy for your date.
Issues with ego and penis size
Tuva is from Sweden - I like Oddy and Pucci
Libby is calming although I have no idea why
What's not to like: Cut off jean shorts, Lucky's and contraceptive pills
I used to pass judgement on dates based on their apartments. An admission of my shallow youth. Meet a girl, have a date or two... get invited back to her apartment. Beyond the obvious: neat vs sloppy, religious vs artist, much was based on their possessions. A collection of "Precious Moments" figurines was reason for immediate flight. Same with Unicorn snow globes. At the other extreme was the gal who showed me four shotguns in her closet. I've discussed my theory before about dating women who own firearms. Don't.
There were the more subtle cases. A lack of character seen through rental furniture, empty book shelves and a small fortune of make up in the bathroom. I mentioned all this one night to Foster on the phone. Shortly afterwards he told me his idea for a blog about what folks would take with them if their house caught on fire. Foster claims the idea came to him at a dinner party where friends discussed on-line dating profiles. Pride of authorship aside, I poo-pooed the idea thinking the 'hip' would use it to tell how hip they were rather than telling their real story.
I was wrong and Foster's book, The Burning House, has been published and his life has changed dramatically. So much for my advice but I still think there's some of my dating experiences in this book. In fact, I find myself oddly attracted to women whose stuff I like while making all kinds of assumptions about the women I don't. Tree huggers. Granola chewers. Small fortunes in make up... My shallowness has been hard to shake. Anyway, it makes for a great Christmas gift at just over ten bucks (here). Absorbing as the web site but easier to browse around in that way you can with a book. Buy a copy for your date.
Issues with ego and penis size
Tuva is from Sweden - I like Oddy and Pucci
Libby is calming although I have no idea why
What's not to like: Cut off jean shorts, Lucky's and contraceptive pills
15 November 2011
The Cooper Union


Gary Cooper, photographed by Cecil Beaton, Hollywood, 1931
Gary, Malibu, 1937
Rocky Cooper, Los Angeles, 1933
Gary, Los Angeles, 1940
Rocky & Gary, Southampton, NY, 1934
Gary, Van Nuys, 1933
Gary, Santa Barbara, 1937
Rocky, Colorado Springs, 1942
Gary, Colorado Springs, 1942
Rocky & Gary, Van Nuys, 1934
Gary photographed by Robert Capa, Sun Valley, 1942
Robert Capa, Sun Valley 1942
Ingrid Bergman, Gary & Clark Gable, 1940
Gary, on set, year unknown
Gary & Ernest Hemingway, Sun Valley, 1942
Rocky & Gary, Beverly Hills, 1959
David Douglas Duncan photograph of Pablo & Jacqueline Picasso, Gary & Maria Cooper, Cannes, 1956
Gary, Athens, 1956
Rocky & one of many championship Sealyham Terriers bred by the Coopers.I first saw proofs of 'Enduring Style' last Febuary during a visit to the publisher. The small B&W images didn't look like much -- until you got close. Close enough to see an intimacy family snaps share. Imperfect exposure. Worn edges. Tape residue. The simplicity of a pose for a spouse or a friend. A happy terrier chases a ball with the shadow of Gary Cooper in the corner. If you love to look at pictures...I mean really look at pictures -- for the stories in the details --you will love looking at this book.
Enduring Style is a return of G. Bruce Boyer during a time when 20 somethings are hoisted sockless up fashion media's flagpole. Finally... there's something to salute. The book is slip cased, monograph-ed and written by three experts. Ralph Lauren contributes the introduction and sums up with a feeling about 'Coop' that proves even Mr Lauren can't always get what he wants.
Maria Cooper Janis, Gary & Rocky's daughter, writes of the charmed, but in no way entitled life of America's premiere movie star who told her, "There ain't never a horse that couldn't be rode, there ain't never a rider that couldn't be throwed." Rather than 'celebrity' and 'star', her description of her father is 'average,' 'good mannered' with 'natural elegance.'
What the photo's leave out, G. Bruce Boyer fills in. The history, the career, the marriage. Like Cooper, Bruce keeps it simple with an eye for detail. Cooper's tailors, shoemakers, colors and jeans. Boyer underlines the contrast between Cooper's celebrity and, 'your average Joe' from Montana.
No doubt Cooper took great care in his appearance and had a passion for the cloth. A vanity that must come with the occupation. But his understanding of what he was doing is breathtaking. Even if he stayed a cowboy extra, his presence in a photograph would tell anyone a hundred years later that this man had something.
The lesson? Style is everywhere, but your inner compass must be followed. Stay true to yourself and with time as your judge, like Gary Cooper, your tie will never be too short, your trouser break never too long and your shoes will never have too many buckles. Simplicity was Cooper's mantra. In the roles he selected and in the way he lived his life. He wasn't a god. He just looked and lived like one.
Enduring Style is available for pre order on Amazon here. Limited advance copies are also available tonight at a book signing. Join G. Bruce Boyer and Maria Cooper Janis at Leffot, 10 Christopher Street, at 6:30 PM.
Labels:
books,
G Bruce Boyer,
Gary Cooper,
photography,
powerHouse,
Style,
Trad Books
19 October 2011
'When We Walked Above the Clouds'
When We Walked Above the Clouds by H. Lee Barnes available here.
H. Lee Barnes on far left with 57mm Recoilless Rifle and the Australians
Barnes firing recoilless rifle
Barnes in flip flops
Barnes (in Tiger Stripe fatigues) shakes hands with Charlton Heston. Heston was considering a film role that went to John Wayne.
H. Lee Barnes 2002In 1963, H. Lee Barnes was an Army Brat living in El Paso and struggling through college. A disinterested and alcoholic mother wasn't helped by a radio announcer step father whose constant job searches would later be subsidized by Barnes himself. There comes a time in some men's lives when they discover they don't belong anywhere. This is usually followed with the recognition that they're pretty much alone. It's a ripe moment for an Army Recruiter.
Barnes enlisted in the Army and volunteered for Special Forces. "You know that song?" Barnes tells me. "One hundred men they'll test today --Only three win the green beret? I was the only one of 50 who made it." I tell Barnes only three in my class of 88 made it and I wasn't one of 'em. I'm looking for a laugh. I don't get one.
Memories of Ft Bragg in 1965 and '66 are seared into my brain despite being eight years old. The green beret itself was something holy to me. I revered the men who wore it. My father, his team members, the next door neighbor and all the men who inhabited Smoke Bomb Hill. This small corner of Bragg was home to Special Forces and was littered with white frame buildings from WWII stuck in the pines. I revered the place when I came back ten years later looking for my own beret.
Assigned to the 7th Special Forces Group at Ft Bragg, Barnes is sent to the small but promising hot spot of the Dominican Republic where Communists are trying to push over a domino. Barnes quotes a lifer's observation in the book, "Wherever Americans go, they turn the women into whores." It's easy duty, guilty even, so Barnes volunteers for Vietnam and winds up at SF Camp A - 107 in Tra Bong some 60 miles south of Da Nang.
Barnes specialty was Demo and secured the Spec 5 ($194 a month) two hazardous stipends of $55 each. One for jump pay and one for blowing things up or the more challenging job of keeping things from blowing up. This all sounds pretty sexy but life at Tra Bong is a thumping bore. As junior man on the team, Barnes gets the shit details...to include burning it.
Jame's Jones took tedium in the army to an art form in A Thin Red Line. A man's thoughts and memories of home in the book became film director Terrance Malick's flashbacks in the film version . A Walk Above the Clouds (author's blog here) takes us on patrols of surrounding mountains with a ruck and a weapon. But there's higher altitude.
Barnes mines his deeply personal reflections. Not only on his good luck, and the guilt that comes with it, but the value of a man's specialty over his value as a human being. Two senior noncoms whose alcoholism reflect a sad army tradition but whose honor and duty spoke to a responsibility the army instills. What Barnes calls, "An honorable action" and "Doing the right thing."
I ask Barnes if he can think of any traits unique to Special Forces members back then. He quickly ticks off a list: "A broken home. Poor. Rootless. Driven to be recognized. Bright and unstable." Tra Bong is one of three places in the world where Cinnamon grows naturally. It is also a place where Lee's captain was beheaded and three team members were killed. Barnes writes of the obsessive card playing with fellow team members, "Cards, like war, reduced to luck no matter a man's skills. No one wanted to be alone with his thoughts to think about that."
Barnes tells me he is done with writing about Vietnam and claims it's the hardest thing he's written. Not only because he was bound to the truth of it but because his team mates names were on it. These events occurred 45 years ago but they should be fresh on everyone's mind. War in a far off place and in a culture not understood. Where the object of "Hearts and Minds" becomes confusion over who the enemy really is. The surprising ending of this book is a reminder...sometimes our biggest enemy can be on our own team.
Labels:
1965,
1966,
Army Stuff,
books,
brat,
Ft Bragg,
Trad Books,
Vietnam
09 May 2011
The Story of Underwear
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