The Man Who Invented Rock Hudson

Exactly one year ago today I blogged about having read actor Tab Hunter’s autobiography; Tab Hunter Confidential. I enjoyed it. In reading Hunter’s book I became aware of another book; The Man Who Invented Rock Hudson: The Pretty Boys and Dirty Deals of Henry Willson.  Willson was Hunter’s agent for a time as well as the agent of a number of mid-century heart-throbs including Troy Donahue, Guy Madison, and, most notably, Rock Hudson.  It sounded like something I might enjoy so I sought out a copy from my public library.

Willson was an interesting character. The son of an affluent East Coast family, he moved to Hollywood and became a powerful agent. He also worked inside the studio system as a talent scout for David O. Selznick in the years after Selznick made Gone With The Wind. That Willson was gay was an open secret in Hollywood. He had a well-earned reputation for finding attractive young men, giving them a catchy new name and making them matinée idols, however briefly, despite any limitations of their talent. He believed that if a performer, male or female, had star quality they could be taught to act. The reputation he earned for what his clients might be asked to provide in addition to the requisite 10% ultimately contributed to his downfall as actors, concerned about their reputations, refused to be associated with him. Many actors who were clients would later deny having had a business relationship with Willson.

A life-long conservative, Willson was the West Coast equivalent of Roy Cohn, the powerful, conservative closet-case in New York and Washington D.C. Both were ruthless and unscrupulous with vocal contempt for anything that smacked of homosexuality, except for the parts that went on behind closed doors. Ultimately Willson died friendless, destitute and all but forgotten. He was buried in an unmarked grave in Los Angeles.

The book is full of ‘dishy’ stories about the Golden Age of Hollywood as well as the entertainment industry’s transition at the end of the studio era and the rise of television.

Henry Willson

What is difficult about the book is the author’s obvious contempt for his subject, and almost everyone else mentioned in the book. The ‘dirty deals’ caption in the title should have been a warning. I don’t think I was through the introduction before the author referred to Margaret Truman, the President’s daughter and a minor character in Willson’s life, as “bovine”. This is not bitchy-funny, drag queen-esque humor. Humor is rarely found. It is just harsh. The author, Robert Hofler, rarely misses an opportunity to describe Willson as physically unattractive or ugly. He adopts a relatively neutral perspective in describing the ‘casting couches’ of the Hollywood moguls; even when the aspiring starlets involved might not have quite reached the age of consent. He rarely alludes to Willson’s activities of this type, however, without describing them as “notorious” or “infamous”. It is possible there is some underlying homophobia giving rise to a double standard but I don’t think that is the case. It just reads like an agenda. Never miss an opportunity to cast the subject in the most negative possible light.

One thing that seems clear is that Willson had a great deal to do with defining the popular notion of masculinity in the years between WWII and Vietnam. He was able to divine the public’s taste for male beauty and meet that need in a way that had never been done before. In the end, the book is dishy, albeit mostly warmed-over dish I’d heard before. I have no doubt that it is accurate. I believe that Henry Willson was probably not a very pleasant person. The book would have been a more enjoyable read, however, if that were conveyed in a less heavy-handed manner.

“No Thank You – But Merry Christmas”

It is easy to make me feel guilty.

I was leaving a retail store before Christmas when I encountered two Salvation Army volunteers. They were pleasant, suburban-looking matrons, which made sense since I was in North Scottsdale. Both were smiling broadly. One was ringing her bell with proper holiday enthusiasm while the other was greeting people and offering reindeer stickers.

As I exited the store, the volunteer with the reindeer stickers approached me and offered me one. I smiled, said; “No, thank you… but Merry Christmas” and kept walking. Rather than moving on to the next potential donor, she continued toward me with her hand outstretched; sticker at the ready. “Oh, you can have one” she chuckled. “No thanks”; I replied and continued toward the parking lot.

Noting my University of Michigan sweatshirt, she continued toward me. “Everyone from Michigan loves reindeer” she said, apparently determined that I not reach the parking lot without a sticker. In response to my third “No thanks” she looked at me and said; “That’s not the holiday spirit! Don’t you like reindeer?” I took a beat while deciding how best to respond and came upon the novel idea of going with the truth. “Not from the Salvation Army”; I said. A serious glare replaced her previously omnipresent, and quite sincere, smile. “Well, that is just rude!”; she told me and turned away.

The Salvation Army ran afoul of the gay community in 2012 when, during a radio interview, one of their media directors responded to a question about the organization’s position that LGBT people “deserve death” by saying;

“Well, that’s a part of our belief system.”

The organization has since clarified their position by the statement:

“Scripture forbids sexual intimacy between members of the same sex. The Salvation Army believes, therefore, that Christians whose sexual orientation is primarily or exclusively same-sex are called upon to embrace celibacy as a way of life. There is no scriptural support for same-sex unions as equal to, or as an alternative to, heterosexual marriage.

Likewise, there is no scriptural support for demeaning or mistreating anyone for reason of his or her sexual orientation. The Salvation Army opposes any such abuse.”

They have continued to support so-called “Ex-gay ministries” that tout their ability to “cure” homosexuals and they have defended their policy of terminating employees whose life styles are deemed contrary to the organization’s beliefs.

O.K. They can believe whatever they want but I prefer to direct the limited resources I have available for charitable giving to organizations that are more affirming.  The Salvation Army and other faith-based organizations do a lot of good work. Sadly, many of them also support a conservative social agenda I find disturbing. That said, I would never seek to confront a volunteer about the issue.

Most people who volunteer sincerely want to make a positive contribution. I don’t think that Scottsdale matron woke up that morning and thought; ‘I’m going to go out and oppress LGBT people this Christmas’. I applaud her volunteerism and acknowledge that, to her, the good work the organization does may be more important than the harm that they do.

I am sincerely sorry if I caused her to have a bad day volunteering. I just wish she had recognized “No thank you, but Merry Christmas” was my indication that the conversation was over. That should have been sufficient. Then we would both have had a nicer day.

The 300

I’m not expecting a plaque at Thermopylae but I was pleasantly surprised to see that my most recent post was my 300th since starting Harper’s Valley. I wish I’d written something more meaningful than; “I have a cold”.  Of well, maybe I can manage something more substantial for the 500th.

It took me 523 days to hit the 300 mark; an average of about 4 posts per week. I hope to do better in 2014.

There have been 29,750 site views. Thanks to everyone who stopped by and checked out the doings in the Valley. A special thanks those who commented. I have enjoyed your insights, feedback and the spirit of community.

Two posts are outliers in their popularity. A 2012 post called “What Makes An Image ‘Iconic?'” racked up more than 700 views. A close second place went to a post from earlier this year called “Lady Porn” which summarized my thoughts on the book 50 Shades of Grey. I assume the latter was popular with the search engines because the word “porn” is included in the title. I have no idea why the former was so popular. Maybe I can boost my stats going forward by including some variation of “Iconic Porn” in every title. It seems limiting.

In any case, thanks for reading. I hope the next 300 will be better than the first.

Waist Deep In The Stream of Consciousness

I have been under the weather lately. Nothing too serious, I am happy to report; but a low-grade fever, a sore throat and a cough that would put Camille to shame left me with just enough energy/motivation to put up some Christmas decorations and complete my shopping …. and not much else. I hate being sick. I know, and have known, people with serious health issues so it is pretty easy to put things in their proper perspective. I am not that sick. But that is an objective, intellectual process. Subjectively, I am moving into week #3 and I am confident I have wrung all the joy out of the experience of feeling crappy. I am ready for it to be over.

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Thanks to those who sent greetings in various forms to acknowledge the feast day of my nativity; or, as I choose the think of it, the 18th anniversary of my fortieth birthday. Special shouts out to Anne Marie for the terrific card and to Ron for the Ghirardelli which I applied directly to my waistline. You are as sweet as it was.

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The week before Christmas, Harper’s Other Dad and I visited the Desert Botanical Gardens for their annual ‘Las Noches de los Luminarias’. It is an annual holiday tradition here in the Valley but we have never made it out to see it before. I think luminarias have become popular holiday decorations in many areas. I did not realize how big a deal they are in the Southwest until a few years ago I visited Santa Fe at Christmastime.

I thought decorating the walkways in the Desert Botanical Garden  with the luminarias would be festive. And it is. This year, however, I am afraid, is not a typical year. The DBG has its Chihuly exhibit continuing until May, 2014. The combination of the holiday luminarias and the Chihuly glass have made the DBG a hot ticket this season. That is great. Unfortunately, the light from the Chihuly pieces effectively obliterates the charm of the luminarias. usual crowds of people stumbling, quite literally, down the dimly lit garden paths change the experience.

I loved the Chihuly when I saw it last month. I look forward to seeing the luminarias next year when they will be more the center of attention.

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 Perhaps it is my general malaise but I’m having a hard time caring about the Duck Doofus “controversy”. He’s one more “Christian” who regards hatred of others as an article of his faith. Apparently he also thinks African-Americans (my term, not his) were happier in the Jim Crow South when they all sang spirituals and happy work songs on their way to their lynching. I have no idea, of course, but I would not faint from the shock if I learned there were sheets with eye-holes buried not-too-far back the duck family linen closet.

The pro-diversity community rolled into action to condemn his hate-speech and racial insensitivity and called for a boycott. The teavangelicals cranked up their media machine to decry the attack on duck boy’s religious freedom and freedom of speech. Sarah Palin hasn’t had this many photo ops since she made the rounds on her Chick-fil-a ‘bigot burger’ tour. Luckily it was perfectly timed to help her sell her Christmas book; hot on the heals of Fox News breaking the story that Jesus, like Santa, is a white guy.

I’m reluctant to criticize any community’s efforts to challenge hate-speech but I worry that this kind of hysteria at every lapse in political correctness does more to generate support for the opponents of diversity than raise anyone’s consciousness. Are there really any supporters of diversity taking spiritual guidance from the duck klan? Does anyone believe that the people who view duck doofus as an intellectual or religious leader are going to change their minds because the HRC weighed in?

I think they meant “against” hate…but who knows

I don’t feel too much support for A&E either. They responded by suspending him for a week or two. Of course the taped episodes are still running…. and they ran a DD marathon one day over the holidays. I guess it is good that they responded but I struggle to see it as much of a statement. They made a lot of money making him a reality star. Does any reasonable person honestly believe the folks at A&E were surprised to learn of his views about African Americans and gays? So they bowed to pressure from liberal groups by suspending him and then bowed to pressures from teavangelicals to reinstate him. In the meantime, they cashed in with improved ratings and a huge amount of free publicity for their reality show. All I can say about the network is that I have never seen DD and am no more, or less, likely to watch it in the future based on A&E’s actions in this brouhaha. I’ve been trying to recall the last time I watched anything on A&E. It has been a while, probably not since they starting considering programs like DD to be either “Arts” or “Entertainment”.

* * * * * * *

Christmas was unusual this year.  Because I was sick I did not make the trip back to Michigan with Harper’s Other Dad. It was the first time in 17 years we’ve been apart on Christmas. I am sure I’ve been alone on Christmas before though I don’t recall any specific example; probably back in the early 1980’s.

I was a little worried it might be depressing but, truthfully, it wasn’t. Harper was here to keep me company. I took pains to avoid Christmas carols, however. I was pretty sure, whatever my mood, it would not have been improved by hearing Judy sing “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”.

In the meantime, I have quite a backlog of blog fodder. I will try to catch up in the next week or so.

Throw Back Thursday – 1962

Antioch Elementary School
Antioch, Illinois
1962

Looking very ‘Don Draper’.
I’m pretty sure the tie was a clip-on.

 Miss Derr’s First Grade class. The big joke at the school was;

“Who’s your teacher?”
“Miss Derr”
“Mr. Who?”

Hahahahaha….first grade humor.

She seated her students in alphabetical order (anal much?) so I was in the back row.

She made me stay after school once for talking.

She also forced me to learn to print with my right hand. I had been left-handed to that point. It was school board policy, not her own idea, but still seemed mean to me. Whenever she caught be with a pencil in my left hand she made me switch hands. Then she gave me bad grades because my letters slanted the wrong way.

She was evil.

The Perfect Stocking Stuffer?

Usually World Market is my purveyor of choice for stocking-stuffers but this year I am all about the dollar store.

Disclaimer Notice: I am using the term ‘dollar store’ here generically and not referring to any particular merchant or retail chain.

The merchandise at most dollar stores ranges from basic necessities, office supplies, housewares, cleaning producted, glamour and beauty aids, and seasonal items. Some of the seasonal items might be uncharitably described as “Cheap Christmas Trash” by those without the proper holiday spirit. One man’s CTC is another man’s tchotchke/kitsch. Most of what they sell are things one uses everyday. Best of all, around every corner, are things I’ll call;  things-I-didn’t-know-I-wanted-until-I-saw-them-but-now-must-have-and-I-can-because-they-only-cost-a-dollar”. Shopping there is like trick-or-treating.

I am absolutely fascinated by one item which I did not buy…I swear!…; home pregnancy tests.

Being one of nature’s bachelors, I spend little time thinking about pregnancy. Aside from a couple of scares in high school and college, it is not a topic with which I’ve had to concern myself. Finding home pregnancy tests prominently displayed in the dollar store, however, causes my imagination to run riot.

• Are there people who, wondering whether the stork is en route with a little bundle of joy, cry out; “I need to get to dollar store!”?
• There is no judgment implied in this question, lest Dan Savage fans accuse me of “slut-shaming”, but are their people for whom these are a high-volume consumable?
  • Communities of faith that empower their members to express their God-given sexuality with abandon but who condemn artificial birth control?
  • Large families with many winsome daughters sharing their favors hither & yon?
  • Do sororities shop at the dollar store?

Inquiring minds want to know.

I have never seen home pregnancy tests as a featured item in any of the local dollar stores’ weekly fliers, though I may have missed them. Neither do I recall them highlighting their other feminine products. Perhaps it is just another relic of our Puritan heritage. For the record, they carry a wide variety of feminine hygiene products to assist with the field-of-flowers, springtime breezy, minty freshness of whatever goes on down there.

I didn’t even know “ovulation predictors” were ‘a thing’, much less that they could be had for a buck at the local dollar store. They are “Over 99% Accurate” so it’s probably good to stock up.

“They make the perfect gift!”

Throw Back Thursday – 1974

William Horlick High School Graduation
Racine, Wisconsin
1974

In the words of Will Hobbs;
“Offered without comment”

TSoM Becomes TLoTF

One of the things I love about some kinds of entertainment is that they are shared experiences. Seeing a movie in a theater is an experience that is shared with others in the audience; and with whomever they are texting. Live events are experiences shared by the performers as well. I imagine sports fans feel the same way about watching sports. And I don’t think it’s about wanting to see the crash in a car race or the fight in a hockey game. It’s more than that.

I blogged a few days ago about watching NBC’s broadcast of The Sound of Music – Live! (Give The Girl A Break). Ms. Underwood’s acting could have been better, O.K., a lot better, but, on the whole, I liked the program and I hope to see more such programs.  What Underwood lacks as an actor is offset, at least to a degree, by what she brought to the project; a beautiful singing voice, a charming personality, and a huge fan base that NBC and their advertisers hoped would tune in to watch. She delivered on all three.

I didn’t expect to think much more about TSoM. Neither the DVD, nor the cast recording are on my Christmas list and I don’t plan on making it a holiday tradition in Casa de Harper. But then I got a crash course in the darker side of a shared experience in the age of social media.

I spend almost no time reading Twitter but I understand there was a lot of verbal carnage as people tried to one-up each other, in 140 characters or less, about how much they hated TSoM in general and Underwood in particular. I am not sorry I missed it. Inadvertently, I came across a pretty good proxy for the Twitter experience in the blogosphere. A Facebook friend shared a link to a blog post he’d read that expressed, more articulately, some of the same ideas I had. ‘Dial down the glee with which we are dumping on this’. It was not a blog with which I was familiar but I read the post. I liked it and I commented to that effect. Then I made the fateful choice to click on the little button that says  “Notify me of follow-up comments via email.” Oh my!

If you are wondering: I Peter 2: 1-25 starts; “Wherefore laying aside all malice, and all guile and hypocrisies, and envies, and all evil speakings,…

Last time I looked there had been 211 comments; about 20% of them anonymous. Some, the earlier ones, were ‘on topic’. Some agreed. Some disagreed. But the trend was relevant and the tone was respectful. As the comment stream grew, however, the tone got a little uglier. By end of the third day it was starting to read like The Lord of The Flies. When did it become impossible have a civil difference of opinion? Does disagreement by anyone about anything automatically indicate some defect in their character?

.
Some highlights:

• Criticism = hate. Anyone with a different opinion is a “hater”
• Nobody watches PBS except a few elitist snobs
• Anyone who liked Underwood did so only because they support her politics
• An African-American should not have been cast as the Mother Abbess
• People who suggest Underwood was anything less than perfect in every way:
  • are nasty
  • are sick
  • are twisted
  • are irrational haters
  • are evil
  • are elitist
  • are ignorant
  • are theater snobs
  • are biased
  • are mean-spirited
  • are jealous
  • are artsy-fartsy insignificants who relish the opportunity to add their two cents
  • did so because they have a personal agenda
  • did so because of her politics
  • did so because of her love of GOD

O.K., that “artsy-fartsy’ one hit a little close to home but I really have only one editorial comment. To those who felt that casting Underwood was about the network and sponsors wanting to make money….;

Well duh! Of course it was. When did that become evil?  Dustin Hoffman once said; “There is a reason why it’s called ‘show business’ and not ‘show art'”.
That said, it is nicer for the audience when it is done well.

The best comment of all in a dialog about theater came from the woman of the hour herself;

“Mean people need Jesus“.

Well, O.K. then. Case closed.

Throw Back Thursday – 1971

Jerstad-Agerholm Junior High School
Racine, Wisconsin
1971

In our school district, 9th grade did not mean you were a lowly high school freshman but rather a “9th Grader” in junior high. Was there ever a more perfect example of being a big fish in a small pond? In the words of one of our greatest contemporary philosophers, Rizzo from Grease; “We were ready to rule to school.”

9th grade was the first year one could ‘go out for’ football and so, of course, I did. I never really cared much about football but it was Wisconsin at the end of the Green Bay Packers’ Vince Lombardi/Bart Starr era; not trying out never entered my mind.

I was a second-string offensive (insert witty remark here) tackle. I lost the first-string spot to a nice guy who was 40 pounds heavier; also better. He was dumb as a box of rocks but I am not bitter. I was #75; the same number as the Packers’ Forrest Gregg. I remember that so it must have meant something to me at the time. Maybe he was the only offensive tackle I could name. In his book Run to Daylight, required reading for teenage boys in Wisconsin in those days, Vince Lombardi claimed; “Forrest Gregg is the finest player I ever coached!” The only thing Forrest and I had in common was we both lived in Wisconsin and wore #75. Still, I got enough playing time in our 5-game season against Racine’s other junior highs to get a letter for my sweater. I even managed to convince my girlfriend to wear it. That is what one did back in the day.

I was ‘all that and a bag of chips’.

Peace On Earth and Good Will Towards Ducks

There are certain events that always prove the Christmas season has begun. I am talking, of course, about the arrival of the holiday ducks.

If you look closely there is one in there dressed as William Shakespeare. The Bard’s connection to Christmas may seem obscure. In this case, he is there because he was a Christmas gift last year and he was, inadvertently, packed away with his fellows. He seems to have survived the summer in the box of decorations.

There was a little tension at first. The holiday ducks seeking to join the fun while the flock seemed to be pressing their home-counter advantage.

In the end, however they became one big happy family.

All’s Well That Ends Well.