1939

It's no secret that I am a big fan of old movies.  I come by that honestly.  One of the first things my mother did when she came to California was to go to Hollywood.  She even worked as an extra on at least one film.  Also, back in my childhood there was no television so we went to the movies at least once a week.  My father was fond of the newsreels, the only way to actually see the real people making news.  Before I was born, Mother worked as a waitress in the coffee shop at Santa Anita Racetrack when it was the place for the Hollywood elite to go and be seen and she had many stories of the big-name stars she had served.  She told of hearing Bing Crosby, a big fan of racing and who owned racehorses, singing a cappella for the stable hands at the end of day.

All this by way of explaining how fascinated I was this week with a documentary on movies made in 1939, which turned out to be the blockbuster year for Hollywood.  Gone With The Wind, The Wizard of Oz, Dark Victory, Ninotchka, Mr. Smith Goes To Washington, Gunga Din, Stagecoach (John Wayne's first movie), Wuthering Heights, and on and on.  I've seen all of these films so many times I can quote the dialogue.  1939 was probably the best year Hollywood ever had, and one of the last because by 1940 television made an appearance and changed everything.  Not for my family because we didn't get a TV until probably 1952.  We went to the movies.

(I have a suggestion for those, like myself, who binge watch back-to-back cooking shows on Saturday.  It's the best day to do laundry.  It gives the illusion of actually doing something productive while not doing much at all.)

My plan of walking GB on a lead in the morning to teach him his boundaries hasn't worked out so well.  He asked to go out early today and, being still in my nightie, I couldn't go with him.  Don't you know the first thing that little booger did was head right down the driveway?  "GB, NO!" had no effect whatsoever.  We've got to work on that.