Friday, August 17, 2007

Elderly... how I feel tonight.

A brief conversation about an element of a previous career with a friend elicited a question from her: "why don't you ever write about stuff like that?"

It's because I feel as if most rocks are younger than I am when I think about past days. I'm not terribly fond of the notion of being a museum exhibit where visitors push a button and I talk about old stuff.

Hell, I've been cast aside by the best. Why go for more?

In this particular case, the subject was animated films, which were my original "business." A movie she mentioned was the last one I worked on and, to tell you the truth, it wasn't a whole heckuva lot of fun. Lucrative, though.

Long, long ago, I wrote about meeting Frank Sinatra when I was a wee lad. Had I run into him again later, it wouldn't have meant a thing; I barely knew who he was at age eight -- though I already dug the hell out of some of his recordings -- and he paid little attention to me beyond a nice "glad to meet you" kind of adult-to-kid moment.

When I was even younger, my father took me to spend an afternoon with Stan Laurel, a sweet old man. At that point, I hadn't even seen a "Laurel and Hardy" comedy, so he was just a friendly guy with an interesting accent.

You may ask how it was that my father knew Stan. I'd have to be too open for my own taste to explain, but will direct you here for a hint of the family connection to the film biz. And even that doesn't explain the connection.

But it does explain meeting Frank. We were at Capitol Records where tracks for a UPA record were being laid down. Sinatra was there for an album of his own being recorded in yet another studio.

Later, quite without paternal assistance, I met Orson Welles. I did a little work on a TV show he was planning -- I don't recall it lasting long -- and the initial results weren't too wonderful.

A day or so later, I received a "this is Orson Welles" call at work. Bypassing the middleman, he asked me to drop by and talk the problem over with him. Since I had already found a solution, the rest was an afternoon of fascinating conversation.

But that's all old stuff. Means nothing, now.

I'd rather be known for what I've done instead of who I know/knew. I've listened to reminiscences from others, and they always come across as sad, eulogies for people who have passed their prime and have little to look forward to.

Am I one of those? I know a lot of people have relegated me to the past, but I feel ready to do new things still.

I regret not having been able to talk music with Frank, or films with Stan and Orson.

I hope some people will one day regret that they didn't spend enough time with me. But I'm too much of a realist to think my departure will leave any void in anyone's life.

And that's all I have to say about this stuff....


sugarcane said...

Elderly my ass Scrib! You're only as old as the people you feel... hee hee. And for the record, I would miss you.

MrScribbler said...

What a sweetheart you are, sugar....

sugarcane said...

I tell it like it see it sweet thang! Seriously, you're a wonderful man. Don't let the crap from before cloud you now. Remember that you deserve someone just as wonderful as you. I mean it.

Birdie said...

who's old??? as you know, we're the same age dang it!!!

And as you know, we ALL enjoy nostalgic entries and I'm sure yours would be quite fascinating!!


P.S. is your trip over here in September to the IAA still planed? ;-)

t-e said...

Elderly? What if we referred to you as "historical"?

Interested said...

Which one is your daddy in that pic?

I used to love to listen to my grandmother talk of times past. You are always making yourself to be nothing. Not that meeting/knowing famous people makes you someone but your experiences are like no one elses and if you wrote a book about them I would by it :D

betty said...

Very interesting! You are not old! I'm old, lol.

justfly said...

That was a nice entry about Scribbs :) A little background we didn't know about :)

I think we are pretty much the best here, so we won't cast you away! You would certainly leave a void here if you left!

Interested said...

Did you happen to know/meet Charles Moss?

MrScribbler said...

Int -- Can't recall meeting Charles Moss. Who is/was he?

Oh, BTW -- Even if you saw a pic of me, you couldn't figure out which one was my father. I look like my mother.

joan said...

Wow! How cool is that? I think you are looking at it backwards - these are the things you have done and they are fascinating glimpses of time. You are very fortunate. More, more!

I like people old enough to have interesting stories. Young folks haven't had enough happen to them yet. I can tell a story for every gray hair - and that's a lot!

Sunny said...

Hehe, I'm "old" cause I'm older than you are! By a few years too! haha!

Speaking of Frank Sinatra: I took care of his Suite at The FountainBleau Resort Hotel in Miami Beach, on the PentHouse Floor.

I met his family and friends, but not him, darn it!

lowandslow said...

Joan is right...those experiences are things that you will always have. We all have "experiences", but I must say, your's are doozies! you've got a lot more livin' to do, my friend. :)

John said...

Those things aren't to be discounted. At the same time, I am in agreement on the depressing aspect of nostalgia and defining yourself with those extraordinary experiences.
They are the sort of thing that should more bolster confidence than make one feel old. That's just silly in the scope of things.
Be prepared for a lecture by PM.