Alternate Histories and Chinese Lanterns
Jul. 27th, 2019 07:14 amDid absolutely nothing yesterday but garden, read Sid Luft’s memoir of his marriage to Judy Garland, and see Once Upon a Time in Hollywood.
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Quentin Tarantino doesn’t have anything left to say, so now he makes alternative histories. Kinda like Harry Turtledove but hipper.
I didn’t know LA in the 60s. I arrived in the SF Bay Area in 1968, and in those days, there was great hatred between Southern California and Northern California. I didn’t actually begin spending time in the LA area till I started working for People in the 90s. And then, I shocked myself and my Bay Area purist pals by actually liking the place.
So, it was a bit surprising how familiar so many of the Once Upon a Time’s scenes felt to me, all those driving scenes in the white Cadillac against a backdrop of mythical Lost Angels intersections and empty (!) LA freeways, the feral hippies squatting on the Spahn Ranch, and the steep, winding roads of the canyons with their improbable mansions just waiting for the next big earthquake to take them out. I wasn’t there, so I guess this is collective memory at work.
Brad Pitt is still my boyfriend, and DiCaprio—an actor I generally loathe—was quite good, too.
Movie is not great, but it is entertaining especially if you go for the popcorn with the real melted butter.
###
You kinda know everything you need to know about Sid Luft’s memoir from its title. Judy and I is grammatically correct, but not quite as punchy as Judy and Me, and thus, you get a sense of this guy who struggled his entire life to get people to take him seriously.
Spoiler alert: They never did.
Best parts of the memoir are Luft’s descriptions of growing up in Bronxville in the 1920s and subsequent impact the Depression had on kids in their 20s who were just trying to have a good time though everything was lined up against that.
Most unexpectedly, Luft has a Voice. I don’t think this autobiography was ghostwritten. He writes with such pride about his relationships with people who were famous in their day! He never did impress them very much, and now, of course, they’re all dead and just as unimpressive as he is.
###
I hung out in the garden during the hottest part of the day.
I wanted to bleach the memory of B’s horrifying sickroom from my visual memory, and I succeeded. We’re at the height of jungle season; my garden is running riot. I suppose next year I should pay more attention to planting things in straight rows, but right now, I’m liking the riot.



Claude planted tomatillos!
They’re quite rare in these parts. I just love their Chinese lantern look, and they make great salsa, too:

Today, I must lock myself in my study and pound pound, pound. I am way, way, way behind on revenue generation goals.
###
Quentin Tarantino doesn’t have anything left to say, so now he makes alternative histories. Kinda like Harry Turtledove but hipper.
I didn’t know LA in the 60s. I arrived in the SF Bay Area in 1968, and in those days, there was great hatred between Southern California and Northern California. I didn’t actually begin spending time in the LA area till I started working for People in the 90s. And then, I shocked myself and my Bay Area purist pals by actually liking the place.
So, it was a bit surprising how familiar so many of the Once Upon a Time’s scenes felt to me, all those driving scenes in the white Cadillac against a backdrop of mythical Lost Angels intersections and empty (!) LA freeways, the feral hippies squatting on the Spahn Ranch, and the steep, winding roads of the canyons with their improbable mansions just waiting for the next big earthquake to take them out. I wasn’t there, so I guess this is collective memory at work.
Brad Pitt is still my boyfriend, and DiCaprio—an actor I generally loathe—was quite good, too.
Movie is not great, but it is entertaining especially if you go for the popcorn with the real melted butter.
###
You kinda know everything you need to know about Sid Luft’s memoir from its title. Judy and I is grammatically correct, but not quite as punchy as Judy and Me, and thus, you get a sense of this guy who struggled his entire life to get people to take him seriously.
Spoiler alert: They never did.
Best parts of the memoir are Luft’s descriptions of growing up in Bronxville in the 1920s and subsequent impact the Depression had on kids in their 20s who were just trying to have a good time though everything was lined up against that.
Most unexpectedly, Luft has a Voice. I don’t think this autobiography was ghostwritten. He writes with such pride about his relationships with people who were famous in their day! He never did impress them very much, and now, of course, they’re all dead and just as unimpressive as he is.
###
I hung out in the garden during the hottest part of the day.
I wanted to bleach the memory of B’s horrifying sickroom from my visual memory, and I succeeded. We’re at the height of jungle season; my garden is running riot. I suppose next year I should pay more attention to planting things in straight rows, but right now, I’m liking the riot.



Claude planted tomatillos!
They’re quite rare in these parts. I just love their Chinese lantern look, and they make great salsa, too:

Today, I must lock myself in my study and pound pound, pound. I am way, way, way behind on revenue generation goals.