I’m very stressed out. I’m going away this weekend. A weekend in the country. A cabin! A lake! A campfire! A hammock! I always get stressed out in the last moments before going away. Left some things I have to get done til the last minute, I have a writing thing I’m working on that I need to get done, and … in general … I just am a nervous Nellie right now.
So what do I do when I get stressed out?
How do I relax?
How do I cope?
Oh, you know. The usual way:
Ahhhh … that makes me feel a little bit better.
Still stressed, though.
So here’s more:
I need more. Isn’t he just beautiful in this one below? That bemused grin. Beauty.
Here’s another one below. This is from the pretty terrible movie (but quite daring in its day) where he played a renegade gynecologist, who saves a girl from a botched abortion, and then marries her. Yeah, you heard me right. He plays a renegade bachelor gynecologist who also conducts the orchestra at the univeristy (that’s what the photo below is – him conducting). The movie was called People will talk, and it’s ridiculous, and Hume Cronyn over-acts up a stinky STORM … but, as usual, Grant is great in it.
And, of course … my all-time favorite stress-reliever, a movie that has come to mean so much to me I don’t even know how to discuss it anymore: Grant as Geoff Carter in Only Angels Have Wings:
Sigh. Makes me feel all strangely weepy for some reason. I’m just stressed out. The country air will do me good.
Not the ‘hof?!?
I’m shocked.
Have fun.
Don’t forget to read about Tom’s meltdown with Matt Lauer, in which Tom claimed to know the “entire history of psychiatry.”
Cary Grant is the hammock you can rest in anytime you like and sway to and fro. Katherine Hepburn is the soft, billowy clouds gently wafting by in the honey-scented azure sky. Spencer Tracy and John Barrymore are the craggy maples that support the hammock as they rustle their golden leaves above. Rosiland Russell is the glossy Irish Setter lying in the shady grass nearby. A young Judy Garland is the whiporwill cheerfully singing her song while she builds a nest in the craggy tops of Spencer Tracy’s arms. Ann Miller and Cyd Charisse are a pair of iridiscent green dragonflies buzzing in a field full of cornflowers. Gary Cooper is a magnificent brown stallion that liesurely munches on sweet grass, while fresh young filly Bette Davis darts here and there, galloping off her bustling energy, her fiery eyes ablaze with delight as she tries to nip at Joan Crawford and Anne Baxter, two wasps. Humphrey Bogart is the old Great Dane sitting in the shade whose huge brown eyes glow with love and never look away from Lauren Bacall, the velvety monarch butterfly perched on a low-sagging branch. Esther Williams and Fernando Lamas are a pair of glistening trouts that leap from the babbling brook which gurgles a few feet away. Laurel and Hardy are toads sitting on a big rock by the brook, chewing on flies and comparing notes. Garson Kanin and Ruth Gordon are jackrabbits, nibbling on carrots and watching the whole scene with the interest of writers looking to capture this perfect moment.
Who needs Tahiti when you can visit the Golden Era of Hollywoodland?
Have fun, Red!
peteb:
No. If I want to let out my aggression, I break out the Hof.
If I want to relax? I go to Archie Leach for comfort.
Stevie –
My God. I am in such an emotional state right now that I began to cry immediately upon reading your comment and wept all the way through.
Happy tears, of course.
Beautiful work!! So well done!
Gary Cooper is such a stallion – Bogart is such a Great Dane. Perfect.
RTG – I saw the whole thing. Did you see it? Complete personality change when the psychiatry thing came up. CREEPY.
I didn’t see it. I’m reading the fallout though; it’s everywhere.
RTG – here’s a link to the video.
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/8344309/
I went on an extreme Cary Grant kick last year (partially inspired by you), and People will Talk killed it.
I knew that if I’d gotten down to this ossified dreck at our video store, then it wasn’t worth going on. I was afraid there would be several more lousy films of his that would dampen my enthusiasm for the tall brit. I’ll be more then happy rotating among the 24 Cary Grant movies I trust.
Scotter – yup. It’s a stinker. So contrived!!!
How ’bout his “bodyguard” who … I can’t remember the story … but somehow came back from the dead, and this was somehow a big scandal … and the big monologue he has at the end about how Cary Grant somehow rescued him …
I mean … what? That has to be the longest most boring monologue ever done.
I’m with you. I will stick with Notorious, Only Angels Have Wings, Bringing up baby, Philadelphia Story, the awful truth, His Girl Friday, Holiday, and North by Northwest … I mean, it really is amazing: the list goes on and on and on …