StanleyWheeler

As I contemplate that day that is the hub, the Ogygia of summer that separates all of the season that came prior to that day from the following day from which the final voyages of the season are launched, I remembered what I had written last year after the local July 4th festivities:   I do it because I am minting memories. We take this hot summer day and put it beneath the steel press of patriotism, stamping upon it the indelible impression of our flag and national identity; we remember the blood and treasure spilled to obtain and to secure the liberty and inalienable rights upon which this nation was founded; we honor not only the founding fathers, but those still living among us who have served to secure the freedoms for which so many have given the last full measure of devotion. There is plenty of time for pleasurable pursuits, but short is the time to honor those who have offered more than mere lip service to liberty... It still has meaning for me. I don't expect that...

Wednesday night, Sleep capriciously refused to abscond with my conscious thought to the land of peaceful dreams. I rose from that bed of unrelenting wakefulness, and reserved tickets for a special event; I also added some hotel reservations. Sleep still maintained her discrete distance. What choice did I have? I turned to film noir. Detour - Edward G. Ulmer 1945 - staring Tom Neal and Ann Savage. Neal plays a man who is hitchhiking across the country to see his sweetheart; he finds misery packaged in a pale sweater and a dark skirt. (That's misery in the skirt, not Neal's character). Tom Neal makes a sympathetic character, but it's Ann Savage's performance as Vera that holds this otherwise forgettable film above of the waters of obscurity. As Vera, Ann is at her most savage. Nearly every time she opens her mouth, it's like having the jagged end of a broken bottle shoved into your guts; every phrase gives the bottle another painful twist. Vera is not just abr...