Sunday Stealing

Movie Questions

What was you first movie-going experience without your parents? A re-release of the original Parent Trap. My oldest friend's mom was in the hospital, and her dad asked my parents if I could go to the movies with her one afternoon. Something special to cheer her up. We even got dressed up for the occasion (I wore a gold pendent). We were in 6th grade. 

Do you still buy DVDs or Blu Rays (or do you just stream them)? I have about two tons of DVDs that I never watch. I really should get rid of them. It's either Amazon Prime or, preferably, Comcast Xfinity for me.

What is your guilty pleasure movie? What about it works for you? I love everything about Valley of the Dolls. The legitimately terrific wardrobe, the campy musical numbers, the horrific dialog, the painfully earnest acting ... LOVE! 

You have compiled a list of your top 10 movies. Which movies do you like, but would not make the list?  Oh! So many movies are dear to me! With Doris Day's passing, I'll include one of hers that I completely adore: Young at Heart. She plays Lori, the upbeat youngest daughter who see the potential in everyone -- from the runt puppy of the litter to a feisty, underemployed piano player (Frank Sinatra). It's not a great movie. We can quibble about the crappy outdoor sets and some pretty serious plot/timing problems. But why? Let's just be charmed.


Which movie(s) do you compulsively watch over and over again? What makes it so great? The Way We Were. I'll let the Carrie and the girls explain why it's so great.




Classic(s) you’re embarrassed to admit you haven’t seen yet? Vertigo. Everyone freaking loves it, but I've never been able to make it past the first few scenes. And any Star Wars movie after the first one (which I saw but it made no impression on me whatsoever).

Do you have any movie posters hanging on your wall? If yes, which ones and why? No movie posters, but I do have this Marilyn poster in my bedroom. She was 22 years old. Newly blonde, newly renamed. There's just something about her at this moment in time that really touches me.

Tell us about a movie that you are passionate about. Maybe because I just saw it again recently, but From Here to Eternity gets better and feels more important with time. For the uninitiated, it takes place in Hawaii in Fall/Winter 1941. The people are all flawed, all unique, each reminds you of someone you've met somewhere. They love, they betray, they make choices. They each try to do the right thing. Every decision they make is made bigger against the historic backdrop of the time they find themselves in. This movie is about us, about America.

What is a movie you vow to never watch? Why? Anything that's sci-fi or has Marvel superheroes. They do not interest me.

Tell us about a movie that literally left you speechless. Pulp Fiction. It was like nothing I'd ever seen before. It was brutal and funny and non-linear and completely fascinating.

What’s a movie that you always recommend? Holiday. Katharine Hepburn and Cary Grant are divine in this beautiful little movie about the price of being who you are.

Who is an actor you always watch, no matter how crappy the movie? Michael Douglas. His movies are always quality (if not always successful) and his performances are always interesting.

Who is an actor you don’t get the appeal for? Why don’t you like them? Garbo. She's alternately too remote and then too much of ham hock for me.

Who is an actor, living or dead, you’d love to meet? Why do they intrigue you? La Liz. Elizabeth Rosamund Taylor Hilton Wilding Todd Fisher Burton Warner Fortensky. What a woman! What a life!

Sexiest actor/actress you’ve seen. (Picture requested!)

Redford. Sigh.

You are casting a movie, pick four or five actors you’d hire to be in it and why we’d love them together. I caught part of Three Men and a Baby the other night and was struck anew by how charming Tom Selleck can be, when he's not ruminating about reverse mortgages. So I'd like to cast him in a romantic comedy with Julia Roberts. Jennifer Aniston will be their best friend, because she's my favorite Friend.. And Kiki Layne would have to be in it somehow, too. I think they would be the most likeable cast ever.

Which are your favorite actor pairings of all time? The two coolest guys ever.

Have you ever watched movies from a decade that was before you were born? If so, which decade is your favorite? Once movies started talking, I started loving them. I can find favorites from every decade from the 1930s on.

If you were to be in a movie would you rather play the hero, villain or anti-hero? Why? Oh, I would be the heroine. Always.

Stay with me here. There's a twist.

The Green Line el train gives me a valuable glimpse of the world every morning, taking me from Frank Lloyd Wrights and restored Victorians, through the impoverished neighborhoods, toward gentrification, over the River and into the Loop and then Michigan Avenue. It's very democratic, with every demographic represented.

Thursday morning, I ended up sitting with two men I never would have encountered, if not for the Green Line. They were older than most riders -- around 70. Their voices were raspy, probably from decades of cigars and cigarettes. They were both wearing bulky sweaters to protect them from the morning chill -- colorful, shawl-collared cardigans. They each were clutching paper bags, with only tell-tale twist tops peering out.

They were bemoaning the spate of carjackings on the west side of Chicago. They'd lived here their whole lives, and they've never seen anything like it.

"Pulling people out of a car. Who does that?"

"Boys! They got bodies of men but brains of boys!"

"Dumb and dangerous. Dangerous and dumb."

"Shit for brains."

"Waving weapons for what? To steal a car? Who does that?"

"You can't sell a car after that. Everybody be looking for the car. Everybody be looking for you. Kidnapping! Weapons!"


"I made a good living just stripping cars. Hub caps. Radios."

"See a car you like, follow the driver home. Wait till he gets out."


"Never in your neighborhood! Who shits where they eat? Who does that?"

"Boys! They got bodies of men but brains of boys!"

I admit I was expecting a why-don't-they-get-jobs-or-stay-in-school kinda thing. Instead, these two charming old men were retired car thieves and chop shoppers, reminiscing about the good old days and, like the rest of us, complaining about Millennials in the workplace.

Saturday 9

It's Late (1959)

Unfamiliar with this week's song. Hear it here.


1) Ricky Nelson laments that he should have been home hours ago. When is the last time you stayed up later than you should have? What were you doing? I don't really have a bed time, as I operate by how I feel. And the most recent evening when I was awake after I had a hard time keeping my eyes open was this past Thursday. We had a condo board meeting with the realtor who wants to represent us when we put our building up for sale. It was an important topic, to be sure, and we met the only time was available to all of us. But as the meeting went on, it was hard for me to stay focused.

2) Compounding Ricky's problem is that he's nearly out of gas. How is your gas tank right now? When did you most recently fill 'er up? No car

3) It gets worse! He can't call home because he doesn't have a dime for the pay phone. Have you recently been in a situation where you've been glad you had your cell phone handy? This past week, my el train was stopped because of "an incident," and I was glad I could text the office and keep them apprised. It's ironic, though, if it wasn't for a cell phone, we wouldn't have been stopped. 

Three people -- two women (a mother and daughter) and a young man got on the train. The mother was already yelling when they got aboard. "You put your hands on her!" she kept screaming at the man. "She's no whore! You don't put your hands on her!" She kept yelling, and yelling, and yelling. At first I thought an assault of some sort had taken place on the platform and had been interrupted when the train arrived. Then it occurred to me -- if something serious had happened, either the women or the man would have gotten off at the next stop. But they didn't, yet she kept yelling ... and yelling ... and yelling.

Well, some well-meaning passenger filmed this with his/her cell phone and sent it to the transit authority. Who stopped the train. And sent Security back to assess the situation. Which meant we all had to sit there until they decided to call the police.

They decided not to, because it turns out the young man was her son. Once Security got involved, Mom quit yelling at him and turned on the guard, telling him to stay out of her family's business and leave her son the hell alone. (Of course, if she'd kept her voice down in the first place, none of this would have happened.)

4) The video for this song is from an episode of The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet. Ozzie Nelson, Ricky's father, was in charge of the show and made the rules. One was that no one was allowed to smoke on the set ... except his wife, Harriet. Do you smoke? Have you ever lived with a smoker? My parents smoked. Three of my four grandparents smoked. It's as though my hair smelled bad until I was 18.

5) Life magazine coined the phrase "teen idol" to describe Ricky's popularity. According to Tiger Beat, today's teen idols include Johnny Orlando and Ruby Jay. Johnny was born in 2003, Ruby in 2004. Sam admits that before today, she had no idea who these young people are. How about you? No. And their names surprise me, because I thought Justin Beiber and BTS were today's teen dreams. I'm such an old fart!


6) While Paul McCartney and Bob Dylan have posthumously praised Ricky Nelson's music, 1950s music critics dismissed him as a lightweight. What's the last review you read? Was it written by a professional critic, or was it contributed by a consumer to a site like Amazon or Yelp? I read reviews all the time. Both professional and consumer. It's just being a good consumer. I'm amused when people complain that they didn't know this or that book or movie had "so much sex and violence!" Well, maybe you wouldn't be clutching your pearls right now in horror if you'd bother to check the reviews!

7) At the height of his popularity, Ricky tried his hand at movies, appearing in the western Rio Bravo with John Wayne. He turned 18 during the filming, and Wayne celebrated by playfully throwing Ricky into a sack of horse manure. Do you think pranks and practical jokes are funny? No. (And John Wayne sounds like a jerk.)

In costume for Rio Bravo. Who could pull a prank on this sweet little pup?

8) In 1959, when this song was popular, the St. Lawrence Seaway was completed. It connects Canada to our Great Lakes. Without looking it up, can you name all 5 Great Lakes? HOMES: Huron, Ontario, Michigan, Erie and Superior.

9) Random question – You drive past a local motel and see the car of a very married friend right there in the lot. Would you ask her about it? Yes. I'd assume they had a busted HVAC system or some other homeowner emergency that precipitated moving out. My married friends seem happy and infidelity wouldn't have occured to me.

Sometimes I miss the road sign

Henry has never liked social media. Since his accident, he's had a hard time composing emails on his laptop. So our relationship now takes place entirely over the phone.

These are marathon conversations. Two hours is the norm. These calls are long-ranging. About our pets. About our families. About our jobs. And, always, reliving the accident and his hospital stay. I try to get away from that as quickly as I can, because no good can come of that.

I enjoy these calls, until I don't. We talk, and talk, and talk. Considering how close he came to death last year, how severe his brain injury was, I find this comforting. He has come so far in his recovery! He's back at work, he's writing poetry again, his memory is completely in tact.

But he is still not well. He's still on a regimen of medications that have an impact on his stamina and moods. And he is not his old self. Frequently Henry says things that just aren't Henry.

He's boastful now, in ways he wasn't before. "I have a high IQ and two PhDs," he'll say. The old Henry would never have said that. Oh, and it's not true. I've known him more than 25 years. I know he's worked two separate times toward the same advanced degree and never finished it. The dissertation has always stopped him. Why does he keep saying this? Does he think I don't know the truth?

And he says things that just aren't true. Couldn't be true. For example, he told the story of how he took his beloved dog Lola to the vet last summer. "I made the vet agree with me that she was dying, that she didn't have long to live, and yet he wanted to put her under anesthesia and clean her teeth anyway. I took her in my arms and said, 'Lola, we're going home.'" What? Huh? No vet would behave that way. Last summer -- before the accident -- he told me he couldn't afford to get Lola's teeth fixed and besides, he was worried the anesthesia would kill her so he simply wasn't taking her in. What's with this dramatic fantasy of arguing with the vet?

Or nuts. Like when he rides his bike now, he still doesn't wear a helmet because it's humid in Key West and besides, helmets aren't "becoming" on adults.

So after I hang up the phone, I'm upset and I stay upset for days.

Henry is doing the best he can. I know that. And it's a privilege that he reaches out to me, that he trusts and loves me. I treasure that. He always ends each call with, "You are my sister and I love you."

But there's an unpleasant reality that I have to face: Even though we have come so very far since his accident last October, this could be it. This could be the extent of his recovery. This could be our new normal. And you know what? That's OK. He's my friend, I love him and I'm in this for the long haul.

So I have to change my approach to these calls. When I sense that we're entering Crazy Town, I should come up with a reason to hang up. Maybe I should come up with a gallery of excuses before he calls next time, so I can have one ready when I pick up.

Now isn't this better?

About 10 days ago, I had an unfortunate run in with my neighbor at the end of the hall. Mr. Braverman just moved into his condo last year, loves it, and understandably doesn't want to sell (and deconversion is something we're seriously considering). I get that. But in our hallway contretemps he not only expressed concern about that, he began sharing his strong opinions about how the building is being run. I told him I felt as though I was being interrogated. This made him angry and he stormed off.

I don't like living like this. Life throws enough stress out way. It doesn't help to be be concerned about running into angry every time I enter or exit my front door.

So, when yesterday I ran into Mr. Braverman in the lobby, I was nervous.

Apparently he feels bad about our last encounter, too. For all we talked about was baseball. I told him that I just so happened to be going to Wrigley Field this Monday and he said I must be the World's Best Aunt.

Superficial and friendly! That's how I like my relationship with my neighbors!

My furry barometer

I miss Joey. My enormous gray and white tomcat had the hugest heart and was always a joy to be around. But besides that, he was excruciatingly sensitive to weather.

I often knew when there was a tornado warning before the weatherman told me, because Joey would scoot -- as close to the ground as he could get -- into the windowless hallway. Really, he looked like a crawling meatloaf. But he knew.

And he snapped out of it as soon as the storm passed. As though he could tell time and understood the weatherman. He would regain his legs, get up and go about his usual lazy, loving life.

Happy Memorial Day

This weekend, I spent an afternoon on the Riverwalk and snapped this photo of the Chicago Remembers Vietnam Veterans Wall.

I've been haunted by it ever since. First of all, because I must have passed it about a gazillion times without every really looking at it. If Joanna and I had been here on any other sunny Saturday, I bet I would have heedlessly passed it again.

And then there are the number of names. 3,000. Think about that: 3,000 kids from Illinois alone died in Vietnam. And that doesn't include the veterans who came home only to succumb to Agent Orange or suicide. It makes me want to cry.

Here is a far more professional look at our Wall. From here on, I will look and appreciate.

Sunday Stealing

Sunday Stealing: Books Traveler

Authors you never get tired of reading I love Nora Ephron's essays. And her novel, Heartburn.

A book you bought for the cover, and discovered it was better than you thought Jackie, Janet and Lee by J. Randy Taraborelli. I didn't buy it -- it was a gift from my friend Henry -- but I didn't expect much. Taraborelli can be a  hack. But I loved the cover shot of three white-gloved Bouvier women marching purposefully toward a society photographer. And actually, it was an interesting read. When one reads about JBKO (which I do obsessively), you get a lot about her relationship with the Kennedys. But she was only Jackie Kennedy from 1953 to 1968. She was a Bouvier for all her life. And learning more about her relationship with her sister and (especially) her mother was enlightening.

 

A book that made you laugh and cry, and made you depressed The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein. I loved our canine narrator, Enzo. He made me laugh and the ending made me cry. And the rather misogynistic and unnecessary subplot about a rape accusation left me depressed. The book didn't need it and would have been better without it.


A book that was a pleasant surprise Kwizgiver has some very good book posts, and she turned me on to the Spellman Saga. It's a series of six very funny detective stories about a family of private investigators. It consistently delighted me.

A book everyone loves that you don’t The DaVinci Code. Hated it. Only finished it because two of my friends raved about it and I thought it simply had to get better.

A book with a great sidekick that you like more than the hero I don't know that I like Hawk better than Spenser, but I like him a lot. You'll find Hawk and Spenser in the Robert B. Parker series, which has been ably taken over by Ace Atkins.

A book that helped you through a difficult time Dance While You Can by Shirley MacLaine. I got it as a gift for my birthday in 1991, but didn't have time to read it at the time. I happened to grab it while my dealing with my father's illness and death, not realizing how much of the book is devoted to her father. The universality of what I was feeling helped. Everyone goes through this, in one form or another. We all had parents, we all have siblings, we all have family stuff.

A book that taught you something valuable JFK: Reckless Youth, by Nigel Hamilton. Lesson: no matter what a life looks like from the outside, you have no idea how it feels on the inside.

A book or series that it took you awhile to get into I got nothing for this. If I don't like the first book I read in a series, I don't stick around.

A fictional character you’d love to have to dinner. Can I invite a couple? I'd like Jo March and her beau, Professor Bhaer. I met them in Little Women. I love them.

 

So I ate a lot of chicken

Last month, I learned how hard 2019 had been on Joanna. Her brother's illness ... financial setbacks ... romantic travails. She was tired, scared and broke. This was very much not like Joanna. She's a sophisticated Southern belle. She never lets 'em see her sweat. And yet here she was, 63 years old and frankly, obviously worried that she wouldn't bounce back this time.

So I've spent the last month worried about her. I didn't want to hover, but I did want her to feel like she wasn't alone. So we've Facebook'd back and forth and set up a date for this weekend. I wanted to go to the Lake -- I can peer at it from the reception area of the office, but I seldom get to see Lake Michigan up close. Joanna said she'd prefer the Chicago Riverwalk. Not as grand as a Great Lake, the Chicago River has enjoyed a renaissance and is now lively and a lot of fun, with restaurants and bars dotting the walkway and a nice view of the boats and kayaks.

We were meeting at 2:00. Remembering last month, when she couldn't even afford an after-movie drink, I didn't know what 2:00 meant. Lunch? Riverwalk bistros can be expensive because they're aimed at tourists. So before I left, I had a big bowl of Campbell's Chicken Pot Pie soup. Creamy and thick. Positively mediocre, but it filled me up.

As soon as we met up, she said she wanted to eat. "Real food," she drawled. Meaning no pub fare like hummus or artichoke dip. We ended up at a sit down restaurant where she ordered smoked beef brisket sandwich with mashed potatoes! All the food looked delicious, but I'd just snarfed down that $1.89 can of soup. It would have been wasted on me. So I just ordered what was cheapest. And it was, of course, more chicken. A chicken/bacon wrap. It was fine. I liked the margarita better.

Mostly I was happy that her life has turned around enough for a full lunch. Last month, she had a short-term contract to do a single project.* That client has been so happy with her that it's expanded into a long-term contract, meaning income through the end of the year.

And it gets better ...

A prospective client who had rejected Joanna in March, saying she was too expensive and inflexible and he was going another way, just called her. He's changed his mind. Now she's got a contract for an additional three months work. She wants to use that money to dig herself out of debt, as she's been living on her credit cards these past three months.

I don't mean to paint this as too rosy. Her brother is still in hospice, waiting to die. And at 63, she doesn't have a cent left in her retirement savings. And that guy that she's carrying on an on again/off again long-distance relationship with? She isn't sure if right now they're on or off.

But she can pay her rent. She can put gas in her car. She can order lunch. At least through the end of the year. She was feeling positive enough to daydream about a trip to Europe, to visit an old friend in London. I don't believe that's going to happen, but it made me happy to hear her so forward focused.

*With Dana! Back when I worked with The Boss, Dana was my secretary. In the intervening 15 years, she's moved on up and has become an office manager. Her employers asked her if she knew of any marketing consultants who could help them expand, she reached out to me, and I put her in contact with Joanna. I'm a matchmaker!

Saturday 9

Saturday 9: God Bless America

Memorial Day is the federal holiday designated to honor American service people who died in battle. 

1) Memorial Day was introduced after the Civil War. Originally called Decoration Day, this is when memorials, as well as the graves of veterans, are to be decorated with flags and flowers on this day to show our appreciation. Is there a war memorial in your neighborhood? There's a WWI statue in the park next to the main library. It was dedicated in 1925, with General Pershing himself in attendance! It's called "Peace Triumphant," because our city fathers had hoped WWI would be the last war any of us ever saw. How poignant!

2) Andrew Johnson, our 17th President, was in office the first time Memorial/Decoration Day  was celebrated. Have you ever met one of our 45 Presidents? "Met" is too strong a term. However as a campaign worker, I saw Bill Clinton during 1992 and 1996 campaign stops. And most memorably, I had the honor of being in attendance when Chicago's own Barack Obama declared victory, first at Soldier Field in 2008 and McCormick Place in 2012.

Soldier Field 2008. Can you see me?

3) According to the AAA, more than 30 million Americans will hit the road this weekend and drive more than 50 miles. Will you be traveling far from home this weekend? No farther than a few el stops to meet up with my friend Joanna. We shall wander Chicago's Riverwalk.

Cross your fingers that the rain lets up so we can enjoy our drinks outdoors

 

4) Memorial Day kicks off the summer season. What's your favorite picnic food? I like potato salad, and it seems I only eat it off a paper plate on my lap.

5) As you answer these questions, is there an air conditioner or fan on? Nope. Though it is a little stuffy so maybe I should put the fan in the window.

6) Though she's belting out one of America's best loved patriotic songs, Deanna Durbin was born in Canada. Is there anyone in your family or circle of friends who wasn't born in the USA? My friend Kathleen's husband is a subject of Queen Elizabeth II. He retains his British citizenship.

7) No longer a household name, Ms. Durbin was once one of the biggest stars in the country. One of her most popular films was 1937's One Hundred Men and a Girl, which was nominated for a Best Picture Oscar. Recommend a movie that you really like, but don't think many Saturday 9ers have seen. Because it's Memorial Day, I'll recommend from Here to Eternity. It's famous for the clinch in the surf, but there's much more to it than that. It's set on an Army base in Hawaii in 1941. It's about honor and justice and patriotism and loyalty and love ... and all the characters are flawed, which makes them very real and easy to root for. You can find it on YouTube, but watch it on your TV if at all possible. Though it's in glorious black and white, it's still an epic and some shots could take your breath away.

8) Back in 1938, Deanna Durbin had her handprints cemented in front of the TCL Chinese Theater on Hollywood Blvd. Have you ever visited that Los Angeles tourist attraction? I was just there last month, for the TCM Classic Film Festival. I saw From Here to Eternity, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and Gone with the Wind on that big, BIG screen. Before that, I just knew it as the theater where they hold the Oscars, and where Lucy and Ethel stole John Wayne's footprints.

It's embarrassing how often I reference I Love Lucy in real life

9) Random question: What food did you hate as a child, but enjoy now? The aforementioned potato salad.

C'mon, Kids, Let's Hear It for Me!

Grocery shopping -- DONE!
Laundry -- DONE! (And that includes the mattress topper and pillow protectors, thankyouverymuch)
Vacuuming -- DONE! (Pretty much)

To think, I can enjoy a three-day weekend without feeling guilty about not keeping up with the most basic chores. That doesn't happen often!

 

HAPPY MEMORIAL DAY!

We lost a giant

A week ago, a man I once worked for died. He was 89 and suffering from cancer, so I was glad to hear that he died peacefully, apparently painlessly, of a heart attack in his sleep.

This man was a giant. He built an advertising agency of over 500 employees. His clients had names you recognize, brands that are a part of your life. You've driven through one, you've swiped or tapped another, you may even have been behind the wheel of a third. A guy doesn't win and then retain clients of that caliber without being smart and driven.

But here's the thing: this man came from a place of integrity. He once withdrew from a new business pitch for a major bank -- to do signage in more than 4,000 branches nationwide -- because the head of marketing asked whether MBAs would be assigned to his business. "I created Ad Age's Agency of the Year," he said, "and I don't have an MBA so I guess we won't be working together." The bank's head of marketing mumbled something like, "I didn't mean you." But by then he was already almost out the door. We were him and he was us. He would walk away before he put any of us in an uncomfortable position.

He was tough. When I was a creative director, I had to "protect my head count." If my direct reports weren't 80% billable every week, I had to explain why. But if we hit our numbers, we got an annual raise. No exceptions. That's part of why he insisted on keeping the company privately owned. He didn't want to explain his policy to stockholders.

He was demanding. If you worked on the beer account, you were expected to drink the beer. And know how the label looked on the store shelves. And check out who was buying what brand in line in front of you at the grocery store, or who ordered what from the bar stool on either side of you. When you worked for him, you were always working for your client.

Most of all, he was unfailingly good to us. He had breakfast with every new employee and learned about us. His nickname for me was "Sports Fan" and he would ask me about the Cubs. He remembered something special about all 500 of us.

A creative director's wife had a baby and they wanted to move from apartment to house. But the CD was over extended and had a shitty credit rating and couldn't get a loan. One morning, he screwed up the courage to ask our boss out for a beer after work. Before the drinks arrived, he blurted, "Boss, can I borrow $10,000 for a downpayment on a house? I'll pay whatever interest you ask." "Sure," the Boss said, "But before we talk interest, I have to call my wife." The creative director thought the Boss had to clear the loan with his wife. It wasn't that. The Boss was afraid the creative director was going to quit, and he wanted to tell his wife there was nothing to be worried about. He not only knew all 500 of us, so did his wife.

I left that agency in 2002. The Boss was over 70 and he wanted to retire so he sold the agency. The new owners weren't him, so I quit. But in my heart, he will always be my Boss. Not a week goes by that I don't think of something he said to us. (Most recently I remembered him barking, "This is your agency, too!  If you see a paperclip on the floor, pick it up!" And so I bent over and picked up the post-it note on the floor by the elevator.)

It was a privilege to know him. RIP, Boss.

WWW.WEDNESDAY

WWW. WEDNESDAY asks three questions to prompt you to speak bookishly. To participate, and to see how other book lovers responded, click here. 

 
1. What are you currently reading?   
The President Is Missing by Bill Clinton and James Patterson. President Duncan has shit going on. The First Lady recently died of cancer, and he naturally mourns her still. He is fighting a serious but controllable disease that prevents his blood from clotting properly, and could cause a stroke if he's under too much stress. And here comes the stress: Congress wants to impeach him for "coddling" terrorists, and he can't defend himself without putting our troops and maybe millions of civilians at serious risk. Oh yeah, and in separate chapters, we meet a cyber-terrorist and a mysterious woman who is trained as a sniper and is apparently (pardon the pun) gunning for the President.

This thriller is a collaboration between Bill Clinton and James Patterson. I haven't read about their creative process, but I don't think I need to. Jonathon Lincoln Duncan is clearly written by William Jefferson Clinton. Those passages are charming, accessible, and informed by eight years of actually having been President. (I like reading about stuff like the little kitchen in private residence.)  The assassin chapters read like typical Patterson, which isn't a bad thing. Just more predictable.

I'm not even halfway through yet. Maybe the delineation between authors will be less obvious as the story lines necessarily collide.

I've been reading some rather heavy non-fiction lately. This thriller, which practically demands to be made into a movie, is a nice change of pace.

2. What did you recently finish reading? 

Kick Kennedy: The Charmed Life and Tragic Death of the Favorite Kennedy Daughter by Barbara Leaming. When Joseph Kennedy was named ambassador to England, his second daughter Kathleen ("Kick") took London by storm. Fleet Street deemed her "The Little American Girl," and published photos of her on society pages, attending embassy parties and working for the Red Cross. Young aristocratic men flocked to her, and she fell for William Cavendish, Marquess of Hartington. Or "Billy," as Kick referred to England's most eligible bachelor. Unfortunately, she was the daughter of a famous American Catholic family, and the Hartingtons literally represented the Anglican Church.

This book captures a very particular moment: London in the late 1930s to mid 1940s. It was a time of upheaval. WWII -- from the lead up through to the the aftermath -- had young people questioning everything. Including the role of the aristocracy and religion. 

I came away admiring Kick's grit and resolve. Her love for Billy, her commitment to their relationship, overcame the objections of his family, her family, and the Vatican. Only to lose him to a Nazi sniper's bullet. Kick is a real-life romantic heroine you'll get behind, and then your heart will break.

However, I wish Leaming had covered a bit more ground than she did. The focus is on Kick and Billy, but I wanted to know more about Kick's relationship with her older sister, Rosemary, and how Rosie's learning disability affected her. Did she feel responsible for Rosie? Did she try to keep her sister's limitations a secret from the Hartington family -- who was looking at Kathleen, literally, as a brood mare who could be counted upon to continue the line? How did Kick respond when she learned of Rosie's lobotomy? Did she consider it another almost unendurable tragedy, like the death of her older brother Joe and her husband? None of this is even touched on, since Rosie is scarcely mentioned in this book. 

3.  What will you read next?  

Maybe another biography? Or a mystery. My TBR pile is stacked dauntingly high with both.