Yet another impressively well maintained, original-plated automotive classic stopped me in my pedaling tracks this morning, this one on Lake Street outside the Presidio. We’re looking here at a 1972 Cadillac Eldorado— hub caps, moldings and badges all intact– with if not its factory paint job, still very likely its original metallic color. Once again, I pause with a nod of appreciation for this “classic of the day.”
“You know how in Scrabble sometimes you look at your seven letters and you’ve got only vowels that spell nothing? What do you do? You go back to the pile. You throw your letters back and hope to pick up better ones to work with. That’s what Republican primary voters seem to be doing. They just keep going back to the pile but still coming up with only vowels that spell nothing.” (Friedman, 2/11/12)
I couldn’t have said it better myself. This op-ed sums up the present state rather well, not that I necessarily agree with every specific point. Nonetheless, there’s indeed a necessary distinction to be made between “conservative” and “radical,” especially when both terms are– ironically enough– placed on the same side of the aisle. Among all else, I’m reminded of what I wrote here just two weeks ago, while enjoying the present echoing of my sentiments. A “different kind” is most definitely in order. Obviously this is not just my own opinion.
The sightings of classic Mercedes-Benz automobiles– two of them, in one day, and in the same neighborhood that is– no doubt call out for a camera.
First we see a 1966 230 SL, followed by a 1972 250 C, both well used yet more than decently maintained. Not only are these two magnificent cars obviously still on the road, but even better– they’re both still on the road with their original license plates, thus adorning the badge that marks their true age, while allowing a California license plate numbers guy like myself to pinpoint their precise model years and months of purchase.
All in all, I say this was a terrific day to be on foot in San Francisco’s Lower Haight!
Nothing stuck in my mind. Upon awaking this morning, I had to remind myself of what we had seen. Aside from the typical cuteness and expected creativity, on the whole I was underwhelmed. Unlike last year, when my favorite spots so entertained me that I watched them over and over again, the entire lot this time around just seemed rather dull, lacking those certain anticipated degrees of energy, attitude and pizzazz.
If for some odd reason you missed this year’s Super Bowl commercials– or if you want to see a certain one again– most are right here for your viewing pleasure.
Of course there were some clear standout moments, such as the reappearance this year– after last year’s absence– of the always flawless Betty White, following an only mildly amusing cameo by the sometimes funny Elton John. Then, history always wins in my book, with nods to Budweiser’s Prohibition spot, the NFL’s safety technology timeline, and even a “mature” Ferris Bueller! Altogether, out of the generally forgettable bunch overall, a car ad emerges as my favorite unsurprisingly enough, and not Clint Eastwood’s.
Audi was back, but not nearly as powerfully as last year. In the end, I’m left asking in disappointment: Where was Mercedes-Benz this time around? I guess I’ll watch last year’s MBZ Super Bowl spot one more time. After all, the Super Bowl commercials of a year ago are far more memorable than yesterday’s.
Like him or not, Donald Trump always commands media attention. And agree with him or not, the media does listen to what he has to say. The question is: Will the public?
Trump’s endorsement of Republican candidate Mitt Romney for president might not make a big difference in the long run. We’ll see. Given his options however, I say Trump made the best choice.
If nothing else, The Donald once again captured the media’s attention today, as well as mine, and– probably even yours too. Don’t worry, you can admit it!
“A nominee who can win in November, not necessarily a “true conservative,” is the candidate they want.”
This, referring to Republican voters in Florida this week, comes as no surprise. Of course “it’s the economy, stupid,” as true today– if not more– as it was out of James Carville’s mouth 20 years ago!
Could Florida Republicans actually be demonstrating some much-needed political common sense, a strain of which could rapidly spread to other states? I wonder…
As the definition states: “In practice, the term Goldwater Republican is used by people today unsatisfied with the Republican Party’s current focus on social issues and family matters.”
Then come articles such as this one in today’s New York Times, which underscore overall Republican lack of cohesion and agreement well into the current election cycle.
Senator Barry Goldwater, 1962
What the Republican party really seems it could use in this presidential election year is a Goldwater resurrection. Just as Barack Obama four years ago became the fresh new face of the Democratic party, it’s well past time for the GOP to present its own similar face of freshness, one that appeals not to the party’s extreme religious fringes, but rather to its much larger, more moderate and consensus-building center. At the same time, a much more daunting and insurmountable question beckons: How can the religious right be divorced from the Republican party, yielding a GOP much like that of 50+ years ago?
After all, “The increasing influence of the Christian right on the Republican Party so conflicted with Goldwater’s libertarian views that he became a vocal opponent of the religious right on issues such as abortion, gay rights and the role of religion in public life.” (Wikipedia)
An online posting in 2008 titled “The Future of the Right” clearly and succinctly defines three basic types of Republicans. For all the concern four years ago over the focus and the future of the Republican party, this feeling has by no means subsided, but rather grown. As written in 2010, Goldwater would not recognize today’s party, while being “seriously taken aback with the anti-gay and anti-choice views.” Then, one-time possible Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump, just yesterday, expressed his own thoughts on the distinct possibility of Republican self-destruction, keeping this ongoing concern very much alive into 2012.
The bottom line is this: The Republican party can do better, to-be-determined strategy notwithstanding. “Republican” itself is not a dirty word; rather it’s been hijacked and smeared by the figures and forces of the current time. A Goldwater resurrection stands a decent chance of changing this course, if only such a movement could take root, gain visibility, and build viable strength in numbers.
So where are the Goldwater Republicans? They’re not in the mainstream media it seems, nor in the current presidential election. It’s time to find them. This is step one.
Common sense continues to be disturbingly lacking, I write with a sigh. While I’ve never been a particular fan or follower of U.S. Senator Rand Paul, in this case I do strongly agree with him, I write with a smile.
The Kentucky Republican senator’s interview with CNN’s Wolf Blitzer following yesterday’s so-called debacle sums it up very clearly, and I’m right with him. Senator Paul should have been able to immediately pass through the scanner a second time, which would have most quickly resolved the situation– and ironically WAS the ultimate outcome– but unfortunately the needed common sense was not already in place for this to happen.
It’s not just about one little isolated incident, and this is not a case of a public figure seeking special privileges. The fact of the matter is: The TSA continues to prove itself an inefficient, unpredictable, anger-inducing and often non-sensical bureaucracy that’s very much in need of policy rethinking and revision. Senator Paul’s “debacle” this week simply shines yet another light on this delicately tolerated reality, not to mention my own recent eye-rolling experiences and observations.
While change is typically inevitable, it often needs a little push, if not several big pushes. May Senator Paul’s now-highly publicized incident serve as a good push, in addition to the hundreds of complaints per week the TSA reportedly receives. The senator’s father, Republican presidential candidate Ron Paul, is already “pushing” himself, but this is another story in itself. In any case, nothing will change overnight, but something will certainly change over time.
And that’s my opinion.
The story piqued my interest, but by no means did it surprise me. The fact of the matter is: Cars these days do indeed last longer, regardless of one’s preference for– or ability to buy– a new one.
I’ve argued time and time again for new cars over older ones. Since the mid ’90s, this typically seems the way to go, for the sake of technical enhancements and luxury appointments, if nothing else. However, my argument changes tack as certain cars get older, given those classic and nostalgic elements born of days when manufacturers actually distinguished themselves from one another. (Read: Most everything today looks the same.) A 1970s Mercedes or a 1980s BMW is much more head-turning than just about any average 2012 model, as long as it’s well maintained of course– not to mention the often-staggering cost of upkeep. I suppose it boils down to the difference between a car driver and a car lover, of which naturally I’m both.
All this in mind, today I walked past the very model you see below, stopping in awe for a moment or two. And then I thought of the story again, mindful of that average age, one that’s no doubt kept up and ever-growing by rare yet beautiful gems such as this! In this case, “old” wins, while in other instances, it’s time for new– or newer. After all, I’m afraid your broken-down 1981 Chevette just won’t cut it.
Keeping Up The Average!
We knew she’d make it! Not only is she very much here to celebrate this remarkable occasion, but it’s quite obvious she’s smoothly sailing right past her momentous milestone with plenty of energy for life ahead.
And of course we knew there would be a big party, televised for all of us to enjoy, a modern-day version of her classic Dean Martin dinner roast. She undoubtedly deserves this honor, while her fans– including myself– love her for all she’s become as the most “golden girl” of all, the reigning senior queen of comedy.
May any of us who live to see this day for ourselves be as sexy, good-humored and sharp-witted as she. January 17 is the very day for us to say, as she sails on into yet another new decade:
Happy 90th Birthday, Betty White!
One very complete menu
The roomy corner bar table must have been waiting for us. At 6:30 on a Saturday night, we arrived just in time before the place started to really fill up. With menus in hand and an unobstructed view of the Saints game, we were more than ready for a good dinner.
Speaking of menus, it took no time to make my selection. After all, when liver-n-onions is on the list– especially at a place I’m visiting for my first time– of course I have to give it a go.
I love finally making it to a dining establishment that’s “on my list,” even when I haven’t previously seen the menu. I love even more being completely impressed and satisfied. Such is the case with the very popular Liverpool Lil’s, an obviously well-established destination that now has at least one more fan in yours truly.
The meal of meals
Accompanied by cheesy mashed potatoes and hearty mixed vegetables– including brussels sprouts– the generously portioned liver-n-onions entree proved itself one of the best I’ve had in San Francisco. The glazed half chicken on my dining companion’s plate didn’t look too meager either, following our shared appetizer of copious, crunchy calamari. Strong black coffee settled my full stomach perfectly. That “good” dinner we anticipated turned out to be so much more!
Add to this friendly and flawless service in spite of the growing crowd, and it’s clear Liverpool Lil’s runs a strong show. Established in 1973, countless have been served, as I will be again very soon no doubt. Will you be joining?
Just when I think I’ve found them all, another one pops up to surprise me. Now well into my second year of road cycling all over the topographically adventurous city of San Francisco, “new” routes are continuing to present themselves. As such, I’m happy to report– yet again– that options abound within the city limits for a decent 20-to-30-mile spin.
Who says you have to leave San Francisco to log the mileage? Granted I’ll admit– today I did, hammering out the always satisfying 40-mile Sausalito-Tiberon loop, in reverse for my first time.
Still, despite the obvious obstacles and annoyances of city cycling, I continue to be thrown another decent road to conquer, some with fresh new pavement even! So, don’t think you have to drive out of town with bike in tow to get those legs seriously moving. It’s all right here within San Francisco, if you look. And yes, after this long, I’m still looking!
Thankfully I can say my mileage moved into three digits in this first week of 2012.
The new cycling year is off and pedaling! After a flat finish to 2011– literally, two rarely seen flat tires brought a quick end to my final ride– today kicked off my first spin of 2012. I tell you, there’s nothing like a good 30 miles of hammering to get the year rolling.
As I mentioned on December 31, I did manage in 2011 to surpass by a hair my cycling mileage of 2010, not that either number is at all impressive. In fact, both are just a little more than one-third my annual record, not to mention about a thousand miles less than my yearly average throughout the last decade.
Now after one ride, my mileage is up compared to this time last year. Perhaps I’ll be “on a roll” in 2012, not that good road cycling is solely about distance. Of course it’s distance– plus speed!
So here’s to my first 30 miles of the year. Now where are those first-of-the-season races?
This year we get two New Year’s Days, thanks to January 1 falling on a Sunday. After all, no start of a new year is quite complete without the Tournament of Roses Parade. And for very established though perhaps somewhat head-scratching reasons, the parade– as well as the Rose Bowl Game— never take place on the Sabbath.
According to the Tournament of Roses Association, the longstanding “Never on Sunday” policy was instituted in 1893 “in order to avoid frightening horses tethered outside local churches and thus interfering with worship services.” Other sources credit the push to Monday as some sort of an agreement between God and rain, which a few times in over hundred years has proven a bum deal. In any case, like it or not, this is a longstanding tradition that has always been honored and will continue to be.
As for the Rose Bowl, apparently it skips Sunday to avoid conflict with the NFL. As for all the parade organizers and participants, they can enjoy a real New Year’s Eve! As for the rest of us, well– we simply get two New Year’s Days instead of just one. So perhaps it’s a win-win after all. Happy New Year 2012… again!
What better way to kick off the new year than by eating?!
According to Southern tradition, so I’m told, the first big meal of the year carries quite a bit of meaning. As such, in my home tonight, thanks to the well-planned preparations of two Southern gentlemen, the lineup consists of pork for prosperity, cabbage for wealth, and black-eyed peas for good luck.
The meanings were explained to me and seem to make decent sense. See for yourself if you can figure them out. Suffice to say, my first dinner of 2012 has been beyond satisfying. I hope and rather doubt, however, that such copious consumption will be a nightly trend this year. Happy New Year!
Of all the ways to describe my 2011… the year of discovery, the year of lessons, and thanks to the record-low mileage on my car’s odometer, the year of literally going nowhere… among all else at least I can say this about my first entire calendar year as a resident of San Francisco: My 2011 cycling mileage did indeed surpass that of 2010. Granted this came– and just barely so– with conscious December effort upon literally getting my butt in gear after some previous months of– how shall we say– focus on other activities.
And now, here I type once again on this, another December 31. As always on this day, I think back over the uniqueness and memories of my past 12 months, while reminding myself that no matter what they turn out to be, the next 12 months ahead will certainly be different than the last. After all, nothing and no one remain the same. As such, I lift a glass to toast both the end of one year-long “season” and the beginning of the next. Literally and figuratively, miles and miles ahead remain to be pedaled!
May your “miles ahead” be welcoming, challenging and rewarding, be them my gas pedal, throttle, leg muscles, or anything more cerebral. Happy New Year 2012!
“Is it always this crowded?,” I asked the hostess. “Usually not,” she replied, “but it’s Tuesday.”
It didn’t take long for me to agree with this collection of hungry patrons that an excellent deal was at hand. At the same time, I asked myself how I could have walked past this spot so many times and not stopped in before now. Better late than never though, as I’m now fully acquainted with the tasty treasure trove on the southwest corner of 14th and Market, otherwise known as Woodhouse Fish Company.
Fresh, flaky and substantial are my words for the fish n’ chips, a selection that immediately proves itself not only far superior to the equivalent in any nearby pub, but also more reasonably priced. The salmon filet special in pesto with Brussels sprouts stands as nothing less than delicious, generous and satisfying. Generally speaking, we’re talking pleasing portions for attractive prices, a conclusion backed up by my cross-table spotting of the crabcakes, the calamari and the shrimp pasta. My yet-to-be-experienced ahi tuna burger is driving my hasty return, a meal for which I already have hopefully not-too-high expectations of true lusciousness.
Small tables are intimately positioned into a limited and somewhat awkward space. The wine glasses seem far too small, quickly elevating beer as the better deal. Still, as wiggle room and libation are secondary to the terrific food, these elements actually seem forgivable.
Even with a full house, service remains prompt, friendly and mostly attentive, despite a couple minor forgotten requests such as water and an extra plate. Again, in this case a few details might just as well be overlooked, especially considering the speedy arrival of a third plate of the “Tuesday special.”
Oh yes, it’s Tuesday, dollar Tuesday to be exact. One dozen large oysters on an ice-packed plate for $12 is a fabulous deal I have yet to see matched, at least in this neighborhood.
One-dollar oysters! I’ll be back, as obviously will many others.
The pavement is smooth and the climbing unobstructed. With significant and impressive completions to the Marin Headlands road construction project, cycling through this beautiful area is now all the more satisfying.
As I wrote here almost a year ago, cyclists like myself often choose the Marin Headlands for a decent workout close to the city. And for all the “freshly paved roads” I then mentioned, now there are so many more. Most notably comes the immediate climb from the north end of the Golden Gate Bridge, which we see in the above artist’s illustration. With the new bicycle lane clearly marked and not a flaw in all that fresh asphalt, you’ll be at the top in no time! From there just keep going, even onto some of the further-inland pavement yet to be redone.
If it’s been a while since you’ve visited the Headlands by bicycle, it’s certainly time for a “revisit,” even while dodging a few camera-snapping tourists here and there.
“With ratings not taking off, the show’s future is hitting some turbulence.”
The clever line quickly captured my attention during a news broadcast this morning. Suffice to say, I’m not all that surprised to now be hearing the current buzz surrounding the possible cancellation of ABC’s first-season prime-time show “Pan Am.”
Many of us appreciate historical period pieces, for the nostalgia factor certainly if anything else. In this case, an over-glamorized portrayal of air travel its 1960s heyday often captures the fascination of viewers born after, while likely churning a multitude of memories for those who lived through it. However, the initial question I had at the show’s premiere remains: Can this catchy program really build and sustain season-long story arcs, or will the show’s structure quickly reach its limits?
In any event, “Pan Am” is not cancelled, yet. Meanwhile, the power of social media could yet determine its fate, while I know fans who would be sorry to see it go. If the show does “crash” however, I’m sure the network has a few other threads of nostalgia it could pull to gain our viewership. Television is nothing if not turbulent!
Excessive and unenforceable were a couple of words I immediately used to describe it. Upon further reading, as expected I found my assessment anything but unique. Thankfully enough, a ban on all cell phone use in cars, even hands-free, seems unlikely ever to happen, leading me to wonder why the NTSB this week would issue the outlandish and overreaching recommendation it did.
Texting is one thing, talking another. How a fatal accident caused by texting immediately prompts a call for no talking, leaves me shaking my head and rolling my eyes. As for the idea of hands-free talking too being outlawed, a CNN article today stresses this unlikelihood while noting: “There’s conflicting evidence on whether hands-free cell phone conversations would be as unsafe as those by hand-helds… that more “definitive research” is needed.” I say to the NTSB: Fine, go ahead and pursue that “definitive research,” but in the meantime don’t be prematurely taking further swipes at the personal behavior and decisions that I along with many others deem appropriate and safe.
All the renewed chatter this week regarding cell phone use in cars simply underscores the larger issue for debate, this being government control vs. personal responsibility. In many cases the former becomes too much while the latter proves not enough, which of course will continue to fuel such a debate. Still, I tend to remain the defender of thoughtful and informed personal decision-making, while opposing blanket laws that lengthen the list of things we can no longer legally do.
Is there no end to such new and arguably unnecessary restrictions placed upon us? There certainly needs to be, for the sake of our supposedly free society and the future thereof.
It’s almost the view from my home, with one not-so-slight addition. (Scroll down a bit to “View of The Year” for comparison.) Unthinkable as such a skyline happens to be for this city in real life, this somewhat-famous image of San Francisco stands as one of my favorite! If only it were more than imaginary.
The film of course remains a classic in itself, one I happily watched again this past weekend. For an interesting and scenic dose of recent San Francisco history, both real and imagined, I do indeed recommend it!
They’re called “wing bombs.” I call them odd and complicated, despite a strong and tasty bolt of horseradish. The “corn fritters” deserve marks for creative preparation, while their relatively bland taste falls flat. Then come two entrees, New York steak “cubes” and sea bass edamame, both of which immediately cry out in embarrassment of their paltry quantity. While the flavor stood its ground, to my dismay my stomach did not reach its necessary capacity. Add to this one overworked waitress who clearly needed additional assistance, leading to overall service that was hurried and inattentive. Thankfully the wine, a Lodi Zinfandel, was delicious!
My second dining experience at Tangerine painfully paled in comparison to my delightful first, I’m sorry to say. Plus it’s not the place to go if you, like my dinner companion, are in search of a real steak. Still, for the numerous appealing menu selections yet to be conquered, plus a more hearty dish I eyeballed at an adjacent table, maybe– just maybe– a third trip is in order.
“More recently the trend has been greater longevity. From Herbert Hoover through Reagan, excluding John F. Kennedy, who was assassinated, seven of the eight presidents lived longer than expected, including Franklin D. Roosevelt, who died at 63 but served for 12 years. Their average age at inauguration was 58.9 years and average expected age of death, assuming presidents aged twice as fast while in office, was 68.9 years. The average actual age at death was 81.6 years. The exception was Lyndon B. Johnson who died of heart disease at 64.” (NYT, 12/6/11)
‘Tis indeed a remarkable truth, with thanks to The New York Times today for speaking the numerical language with which many of us presidential historians are quite familiar. After all, with Presidents Jimmy Carter and George H.W. Bush both currently living at age 87, after seeing Presidents Ford and Reagan survive to 93– with the presidential longevity record going to Ford– it’s definitely safe to say the job itself does not kill the occupant, at least not by natural causes. LBJ remains the closest exception, expiring a health-plagued four years after leaving office, almost to the day. Nixon, for the additional unmatched stress he endured, lived on almost 20 years past his presidency and at least made it past age 80. Bill Clinton and George W. Bush of course define the “younger generation” of former presidents, while both now 65 have a while to catch up to their predecessors.
This phenomenon of recent presidential longevity clearly extends to spouses. After all, with the exception of Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis who died at 64, first ladies of the past half-century have lived into their 80s if not 90s– save that “younger generation” of Hillary Clinton and Laura Bush who have yet to get there of course.
Suffice to say, this sort of numerology always makes for interesting conversation, especially going back more than 50 years. Historical trivia it is after all, of the presidential ages.
On this day one year ago, December 4, 2010, this wonderful view of which I can never get enough became a daily part of my life. Exactly one year ago today, I moved into my current San Francisco home, from which this fortunate vantage point has been enjoyed by both myself and several guests on numerous memorable occasions at all hours of the day. What a unique and unmatched year this has been, to say the least. While there will continue to be change, at least one of my home’s most inviting elements will no doubt remain the same. Here’s to the start of the newest chapter, my year two!
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The rather low-key event once again came and went during Thanksgiving week, as it annually does. Among them all, six distinctive automobiles most impressed me at this year’s San Francisco Auto Show. Worry not if you missed your trip to the Moscone Center, as you didn’t miss all that much relatively speaking– that is, as far as major auto shows throughout the country are concerned.
San Francisco’s collective display of automotive marvel remains small, quiet and surprisingly absent of many popular models. Nonetheless, a stroll around the convention hall floor does quickly prove educational. Among the random tidbits I learned last week, the Acura RL’s console layout is shockingly microscopic, Volvo needs to put some flair into its sterile dashboard panels, the four-door Mini is anything but, and there is absolutely no way I could possibly fathom myself or anyone else ever shelling out $58K for anything called a Hyundai.
Not to sound excessively critical, plenty of “auto good” wove its way through the show, which brings me to the above six photos. The following models have earned my own unspoken awards:
1. Fiat 500: Most in need of a spin.
2. Range Rover Evoque: Most worthy of a second glance.
3. Lexus LS460: Most comfortable seating.
4. Audi A8L: Most handsome body overall.
5 & 6. 1954 Mercedes-Benz 300 SL & 1965 Cadillac Fleetwood Brougham: Most to be admired.
The last two tie for what I consider to be the most stunning pieces on display throughout the entire convention hall. Leave it to me, of course, to pledge my allegiance first and foremost to the classics!
As I mentioned last year, present-day Mercedes-Benz was once again missing from the floor, while the always-beckoning Porsche Panamera this time around remained locked. Regardless, the show’s extensive historical section was alone well worth the $9 entrance fee. After all, while everything new blends into sameness after a short while, automotive legends naturally stand proudly on their own four unmatched wheels.
Altogether, from BMWs that clearly build upon their longstanding stature, to Volkswagens with styling that prompts me to take a nap, the San Francisco Auto Show came through again in its own understated way. Multiple absences notwithstanding, it’s an easily navigable and surprisingly uncrowded venue from which to gain some insight into a somewhat wide array of both fine and not-so-fine machines. Just like my select handful of “winners,” the show altogether– either way you look at it– remains unlike most.
And that’s, yet again, my automotive opinion.
The atmosphere quickly proves inviting and luxurious, far exceeding any expectations the name itself connotes. I’ve always enjoyed the space, though less so on a crowded Saturday evening as eager patrons hawkishly manuver for a chair at the bar. Once seated, the reasonably priced bar menu seems the way to go, at least where cost is concerned. The $14 burger remains for me one of the most satisfying in the area, best enjoyed I must say on an empty stomach, meaning: Very rich and filling! Unfortunately, the Grey Goose martini with which you might want to wash it down is not as good a deal, being not just surprisingly undersized, but costing the same amount as the burger itself! You’re far better off with wine, if not their deliciously strong coffee.
Inviting & Luxurious
My most recent experience echoes some of the words of this review written last year, not my own. Initially friendly service grew inattentive throughout the course of our meal, ending with a bill mistakenly charging me for glasses of a $16 wine instead of the $9 selection my party had consumed. Overall, some of the main menu offerings simply do not seem worth their exorbitant price tags. If cost if no concern for you however, by all means judge for yourself. The comfortable and elegant ambiance makes for a lovely evening, assuming of course your entree is cooked correctly and the staff does not ignore you for too long. For better or worse, it’s simply another night in Woodside at the Village Pub.
Certain questions will forever remain unanswered. No time-leaping cinematic journey through the complex life of one of America’s most powerful yet complicated figures of history will ever put all the pieces together. We’re left to wonder, as perhaps well we should for the sake of ongoing argument and analysis. While this latest depiction surely rests incomplete in its overall life coverage– most do after all– the retelling of such infamous though calculatedly unproven historical details has made its way onto the big screen in a film very well worth your time and consideration. Simply put, go see J. Edgar.
Some unrealistic makeup notwithstanding, Leonardo DiCaprio pulls off a solidly believable portrayal of the enigmatic bulldog who for almost a half-century ran the department that grew to become during his reign the Federal Bureau of Investigation. While Director Clint Eastwood necessarily ignores many significant years and events, the history he does choose to cover maintains focus on the man of mystery who shaped and influenced– by means both good and not so good– federal law enforcement in this country.
Reality and Portrayal
There is no other J. Edgar Hoover. We already knew this. Still, as with so many high-ranking government officials, the daily struggle ensues between the personal and the public man. In Hoover’s case this may very well have been more than the average struggle, as Eastwood’s film steadily examines, and which no doubt draws us to the ticket window. Perhaps even more than his personal files for blackmail comes the unresolved fascination with Hoover’s sexuality. While the film unambiguously delves into this subject, it does so with a surprising amount of respect and restraint. In other words, the recipe is light on sexual behavior, heavy on conflicted emotional intimacy, all intertwined with another day on the job. His relationships are strong yet difficult, with his mother, with his colleagues, and certainly with the man he “needed.” This we see and see well.
Critics will call J. Edgar a disappointment– and they have— but as usual I believe in coming to my own conclusion. So should you. From unconvincing cameo portrayals of RFK and Nixon, to poignant moments with Clyde Tolson, to telling scenes with Hoover’s mother and the loyal presence of “Miss Gandy” throughout, all peppered with historical tragedy and even some splashes of Hoover-style wit and humor, this film demands our attention from start to finish. In the end, we’re left with that sense of wonder. If only Miss Gandy hadn’t been so faithful as to destroy all those personal files, I say! But of course, she did. Thanks to her, we’ll never know. Thanks to Clint Eastwood, we know a little more.
Attractive visual summaries are always welcome. This one of San Francisco proves quite helpful, not only for wandering tourists, but no doubt for more than a few of us who live here. While I always knew my home was pretty much dead center, with this I now know what really to call– and not to call– my neighborhood. It is indeed, unequivocally, Corona Heights.
A welcome reality of San Francisco shines, the fact that each area carries its own distinct characteristics. A medley of adjacent “villages” of varying size and shape come together to form the larger city, which itself of course is not terribly large. I recommend enjoying several pieces of the puzzle, as I always do.
Where are you, and where would you like to go? Here it is, made easy.
Ryan R. Sanderson 