Undertippers and Rolling Heads
Random noun: partridge
There are partridges in pear trees, apparently. I’ve never seen one in a pear tree. I don’t even know if I’ve seen a partridge anywhere for that matter. They are “plump-bodied game birds,” which means they get to be hunted, so hiding out in a pear tree might be a good move.
Another kind of Partridge is the family so named. I didn’t watch that show, but long after it went off the air I got into a tussle with one of the stars, Danny Bonaduce, when he had his radio show.
It happened this way. When the serial-killer movie Red Dragon came out in 2002, I went to a matinee. I took my seat. Presently, a young couple with a child came in and sat in front of me. The child was a girl no more than six years old. She was happily chatting, a tub of popcorn on her lap.
And I thought: You’re bringing your daughter to a movie like this? What are you thinking?
The movie was bloody and sadistic. In one scene the bad guy has tied up a reporter and proceeds to bite (bite!) the tongue out of the screaming victim’s mouth.
When the movie was over I rushed into the lobby to have a look at this happy family. The father carried the little girl, who looked pale and almost catatonic. Her eyes were open in dull, unfocused shock. I wanted to confront the guy right then and there but, you’ll pardon the expression, I held my tongue.
I was so supremely angry I wrote a letter to the L.A. Times, which they published.
Bondaduce’s producer saw the piece and contacted me, asked if I’d like to call in to their show.
I did. I explained what happened, and that I thought this was a form of child abuse.
Bonaduce asked, “Then why didn’t you call the police?”
“Because it wasn’t illegal,” I said. The conversation ended shortly after that.
(So far, this wandering isn’t so whimsical, but this is what came up from the memory files, and all these years later I can still see that little girl’s face. I can’t help wondering what became of her.)
Back to whimsy. I sometimes confuse The Partridge Family with The Brady Bunch. I never watched that show, either. But in my waitering days I was working at an upscale eatery on the West side when a certain mother from that show came in with a few others. I gave them excellent service, which is the only service I ever gave, except for the one time I accidentally spilled hot butter sauce on a very well-dressed lady’s lap.
Anyway, said mother undertipped me, big time (or should I say, low time?)
I was new and told a fellow waiter about this. He laughed. “That’s why no one wants to serve her table.”
Lesson learned. Other celebrities ate there. Rod Steiger used to come in and sit alone at a table in the back, where the lights were low. Do not disturb.
My lovely wife was a waitress in those days (before I ever met her) and has a great story. She was working at a restaurant near CBS Studios, and one lunch Tim Conway came in. The restaurant had cushy, sofa-like chairs. When Cindy came over to him he bounced on the chair and remarked, “Soft.”
Cindy smiled, as she does so fetchingly, and gave him a menu.
When she returned, Conway was a little lower at the table. He ordered, and Cindy went to get his salad.
When she came back, he was even lower, obviously by design.
When she came out with his meal, only his head was showing! This great comedian had given Cindy a private comedy sketch.
How wonderfully generous of that man, whose life was dedicated to making people smile.
Which is the governing philosophy of Whimsical Wanderings.
Judy Garland sang a song called “Smiles.”
There are smiles that make us happy,
There are smiles that make us blue.
There are smiles that steal away the teardrops
Like the sunbeams steal away the dew...But the smiles that fill my life with sunshine
Are the smiles that you gave to me.(Songwriters: Will Callahan and Lee Roberts)
Ah, Judy. What a voice, one of the best there ever was. What an actress, too, so adorable in the Andy Hardy movies, and in her later years pure dynamite in A Star is Born and her unforgettable supporting role in Judgment at Nuremberg, both of which got Oscar nominations.
Do you know how Oscar got its name? There are a couple of theories. One of them is that Bette Davis remarked that the statuette’s keister resembled that of her husband, Oscar Nelson.
I should refrain from saying that this made him the butt of many jokes.
Oops, there I went anyway—another governing philosophy of Whimsical Wanderings!
As always, I hope you wandered into a smile today.
From the World of Sports:
The old radio announcer for the San Diego Padres, Jerry Coleman, once made an exciting call: “There’s a long drive! Winfield is going back, back. He hit his head against the wall! It’s rolling toward second base!”
Quote:
“If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs…” (Rudyard Kipling, “If”)
Thank you for the out-loud laugh from Jerry Coleman! It seems a more than a few of Hollywood's greatest were cheapskates. My dad drove a Yellow Cab and often picked up people at the airport. Once such was a very famous actor (sorry can't remember his name so maybe he wasn't so famous) who tipped him a quarter-- even back then that was a paltry sum.
I worked as a waitress in my teen years and only dropped one plate, that miraculously missed the patron. On another note, being a waitress or waiter lets you see a whole 'nother side of people.
And still smiling, James! :)
Another name for "partridge", particularly up here in my neck of the woods (what's a "neck" of the woods, anyway?) is "ruffed grouse". That reminds me of my g-father, who ruffed and groused throughout his life... unless he was playing with his g-kiddos, that is!
Have a great day!