To thine own self be true

“Can’t get no light from a dollar bill
Don’t give me no light from a tv screen
When I open my eyes
I wanna drink my fill
From the well on the hill
I know ya know what I mean”
–“Shed a Little Light”, Da Man, James Taylor

Made in 1977, this was one of the last of the blockbuster war movies about human failure in war. Based on Cornelius Ryan’s best seller, A Bridge Too Far is a successful movie adaptation about Operation Market Garden, an overly ambitious, poorly planned co-UK-US attempt to end WWII early.

The plot focuses on several subplots and storylines built around one of the most impressive casts ever assembled which includes: Dirk Bogarde, James Caan, Michael Caine, Sean Connery, Edward Fox, Elliott Gould, Gene Hackman, Anthony Hopkins, Laurence Olivier, Ryan O’Neal, Robert Redford, Maximilian Schell, and Liv Ullman, all at the peaks of their careers.

Music is appropriately provided by John Addison, the script was written by William Goldman, and Richard Attenborough directed this massive, realistic project. The film set in Holland was shot in the Netherlands and U.K. A lot of care was taken in bringing the actual events to life. Civilian responses and interactions help keep the film believable and relevant for the average viewer.

The recommended MGM Collector’s Edition includes an extra disc with more information about the historical original and the making of the film.

A Bridge Too Far easily makes the top 5 war films of all time, especially on the themes of human blunders and heroic actions in impossible situations. It remains an entertaining film for students of history and fans of war films in particular.

Wow! Our Sikh neighbor called to me over the fence to offer a taste of his country at noon. He’s hosting his annual weekend party complete with large tents in his front and back yards. All weekend people will be coming and going; it’s kind of a drop-in complete with kids and a quiet prayer ceremony on Sunday morning.

Well, the world does have a tendency to come to one these daze. I consider myself much larger and fortunate to have a number of friends from other countries; nice, friendly people who enjoy and appreciate their white neighbors as much as the latter do them.

All of this is a delightfully refreshing oasis in contrast to the 24/7 nonstop orgy of tv reporting on Trump’s latest insults to anyone who is not a white male, suited, Russian oligarch.

Incoming personal mail today–a signed CD from the Jazz Legend saxophonist Vincent Herring, who did a wonderful recent concert here at the celebrated Yardbird Suite. Good news from Bayonne, New Jersey. And a Great Gift of Self and Music.

In Edmonton today, risk of tornados.
Saturday-Sunday 60% chance of rain.

And so I was driving home, coming first into the area I live in. All about me were construction machines and buildings levelled everywhere. My eyes could see for miles the rubble and dusty flatness of bombed-out places and wartime-styled excavations–what you’ve seen of Third World countries on the six o’clock news.

I turned to go the way I usually go into my neighborhood, but there were no visible street signs. The paved road gave way to dust trails going nowhere. Relying on my innate sense of direction, I kept driving where my turnoff should have been, but which now curved into a long busy demolition site with few suburban homes still standing. Construction machines whizzed by with no discernible human drivers I could ask what was going on and what had happened. My van and windshield were covered by dust and sand. I abandoned my van, getting out and beginning to walk.

Just then a weird-looking metallic enclosed bus pulled up and asked, “Are you Davies?” I said yes and hopped in. A young well-meaning woman in non-descript garb began to tell me “Here is what you need to know to get to where your house used to be and how you can leave whenever you want.” And then she started the all-too-familiar undecipherable babble we’ve all heard in the other red tape bureaucratic scenes from our lives.

“I’m sorry. I can’t make out what you are saying,” I said. And, indeed, her talk had become gibberish. “I need someone else to explain what you’re trying to tell me.”

She said to an armed man who had shown up. “Oh, oh, we’ve got another one of those” as she spoke into her phone.

“Look, I don’t want any hassle. Just let me get off.”
“I’m sorry, sir. You can never go home again. This is Edmonton.”

The man clicked his gun.

Last night I briefly awoke and turned on the light. Pop! It went out immediately and will never come on again, leaving me in the dark.
It’s like that way with us personally and healthwise in many ways.
One morning waking up, you feel inexplicable dizzy with pains in your chest.
Or you get a phone call in the night saying a member of your family was killed in a traffic accident.
Or you lose your job at work.
On and on. The fact of sudden change, often irrevocable and permanent in so many negative ways.
Our lives can change in a second on a dime or in a breath.
Nothing we perceive, apprehend, or limitedly understand is forever. All is susceptible to change and ending.
Sometimes people even experience a sequence of these brutal sudden endings.

There are, as always, myriad possibilities for every waking moment spared by a light not coming on. There is much to do and much to be done. Often we have many plans and unexpressed or unshared private dreams. And there is only so much time of unknown quantity. People feel this more when there’s less road than what’s back of the cart.

I, like others, am aware of money and what pleasures and possibilities it can bring, but, through my grandkids these daze, I also re-realize that life is so much more than about acquisition, materialism, and celebrity. It is far more about getting along with others and as many people as possible. It is about helping, sharing, and caring. It is about positive exchanges with others, sometimes even lifting others to realize their obvious potentials (a hangover from teaching thirty years and writing textbooks for senior high English students). And it is, above all, mainly about selfless love and making a gift of oneself to others.

These are decent, simple values worth living and dying for. And these are what still inspire me in a world lost and gone totally Trump-crazy.

Barack Obama’s at the current Nelson Mandela memorial gathering.

A classic film which seems more over the top than ever. Only not-so-bright romantics could love this one today.

A reasonable pared-down script from the original novel eliminates unnecessary layers of generations. Everybody looks right for their roles, but the acting is way over-the-top like the non-stop music that tells the viewer how to feel at a given moment. Very insulting.

Best perhaps best in the adaptation, like the original, are the wrong choices by Cathy and Heathcliff and the unnecessary tragic results which follow. That is realistic; people make those kinds of mistakes in love. Edgar illustrates the limitations of good, kind people. Geraldine Fitzgerald gives a convincing performance as the neglected, abused sister of Edgar. Flora Robinson plays the stereotypical witness who understands, but is unable to influence any of the main characters’ choices. Also good is the strong sense of atmosphere created from the black and white award-winning cinematography by Gregg Toland.

There are diehard romantics out there today, I suppose, who would buy the love beyond death theme, the return of the dead, and dead lovers reuniting aspects which once made this plot more appealing and likable. Shades of Romeo and Juliet with twists. Do crass and disillusioned modern adults still believe in such things? I guess that depends on their reasons and experience.

But apart from these underlying messages, Wuthering Heights, as novel or film, was and still is pure melodrama. And to most modern viewers, it totters at the edge of implausible extremes, unintended humor, and insulting assumptions, playing as an absurd, unrealistic cinematic joke.

Last year there were more than 40 calls for help for kids trapped in overheated cars left by terribly negiigent parents. And over 120 calls about animals in distress left in hot cars by negligent owners.
Evidence again that there should be some kind of parenting course and pet owner course before babies are born and people can buy pets.