Oh, Rosalita-With
Marilyn Monroe, Montgomery Clift and Clark Gable’s Film Adaptation Of Arthur
Miller’s “The Misfits” In Mind
By Zack James
Maybe it was something in
the drinking water but Louis Lyons was beside himself one he figured out the
real reason why he spent a couple of weekend nights watching a couple of old-time
flicks, films which he had gathered in from his Netflix service. Lou had been
on a long term kick about watching, or rather re-watching, films, mostly black
and white from his checkered seedy random youth. In those days he would have
viewed such films not on his HD television or via the stream of his computer but
at his local theater, The Majestic, in his hometown of Oxford out in Western
Massachusetts now long since closed where he would spent many an ungodly Saturday
afternoon viewing the current fare. The
“ungodly’ part for real his parents were devout Sixth Day Anabaptists whose day
of worship started midday Saturday and ended at dawn Sunday morning and
although they were liberal enough to see that Lou would have snuck out anyway
always cast that epitaph his way when he came sheepishly through the door after
being hunkered with a box of made last popcorn and some candy bars purchased at
Billy’s Variety and “snuck” in under the watch-less eyes of the ushers. Later in
high school, having grown out of kids’ clothing and Saturday matinees about the
same time, he let those epitaphs flow off his back like water off a duck after
coming in late on Saturday nights. Reason: or one of the reasons, Lotty Larson
who was the first girl who accepted his invitation when he asked her the
locally famous, locally high school movie date night, question-balcony or orchestra?
Orchestra meant maybe one date and out but balcony meant promise of anything
from a “feel” inside or out of some girl’s cashmere sweater to a tight space
blow job.
This trip, this diversion
down rural hills nostalgia road, has a purpose since it was on the same track
that was bothering Lou’s old mind. The eternal, infernal, ways of sex which had
one way or another bothered Lou’s mind since puberty, maybe before if Doctor Freud
and his acolytes were right. The association played out this way. On Friday
night he had watched for the umpteenth time one of his all-time favorite films
the film adaptation of Ernest Hemingway’s To
Have And Have Not starring Lauren Bacall and Humphrey Bogart. One of the
reasons that he favored that film is that although he did not see it went it
had come out since he was only a dream in his parents’ way of life in 1941 when
the film had come out when he saw it in retrospective in college at the Brattle
Theater in Harvard Square he had told his date, name now long forgotten in
memory, that some of the scenes in that classic were as hot, maybe hotter,
between two people with their clothes fully on than half the porno being
featured in the Combat Zone in downtown Boston. (Lou vaguely remembered that
night was a hot date night with that unremembered young woman when they had
gone back to her place on Commonwealth Avenue.) After that recent viewing
though he had remarked to his wife, his third wife, Moira, that given the best
of it Captain Morgan, Bogie’s role, a craggy sea salt, and Marie, the Bacall
role, that he had to be at least twice her age, maybe more. (He had actually
looked it up on Wikipedia and found
Bogie was forty-five and Bacall nineteen at the time so the “maybe more” was
definitely in play). That started a short discussion between them about younger
women being attracted to older men (as a sign of some kind of distorted social
norm older men being attracted to younger women never made it to the conversation
table). No conclusions were drawn at the time by Lou.
Saturday night Moira was
out attending her weekly bridge party with some of her girlfriends and Lou
wound up watching the other film the film adaptation of Arthur Miller’s The Misfits starring Marilyn Monroe and
Clark Gable (with serious supporting roles by Montgomery Clift, Eli Wallach,
and Thelma Ritter). Once again maybe giving Clark, playing Gaye, a decided edge
in the looks department over Bogie and the fact of being a real cowboy over a sea
captain an older man was attractive to a younger woman, Rosalyn, played by
Marilyn Monroe. Lou, a little younger than the older brothers and fathers who
saw Ms. Monroe as the epitome of 1950s sexual allure and beauty, had seen the
film when he was in high school, alone if he recalled.
The question of younger
women being attracted to older men would not have stuck out as much it had
those nights on the first viewing of the films back in the day but since then
there had been Rosalita, his second wife, the wife that Lou had left for Moira.
The main reason, although not the only reason, had been the wide gap in age
between them, Rosalita had been twenty-five and he almost fifty when he spied
her one night in San Francisco at the City Lights Bookstore, the famous one run
by Lawrence Ferlinghetti and the big “beat” hang-out back in the 1950s when
being “beat” mean something socially unlike later when he tried to emulate them
and got nothing but laughs for digging something so passe. He was trolling the place,
literally, since he had just got divorced back in Massachusetts from his first
wife, Anna, and after the acrimonious settlement decided he needed to head west
and make a new start. Needed the company of a woman as well and somebody he had
run into at Ginny’s Bar in North Beach had told him that if you were looking
for a certain type woman, intellectually curious, maybe a little off-kilter,
maybe easy too then in San Francisco you hit the bookstores and City Lights was
a magnet. (That “custom” was not confined to Frisco Town he had met Moira at
the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston under the same imperative).
Lou had been looking for
a copy of Allen Ginsberg’s poem Howl
(in a book which came with other poems as well) since that was one of
his favorite poems, if
not his most favorite then. Then this thin, brown-eyed, black-haired good-looking
young women whom he at first thought was Spanish, maybe from Mexico given where
he was came up behind him and started going on and on about Ginsberg who had just
died a few years before. (Rosalita was not Spanish at all but Irish her mother
just liked the name.) He was shocked that anybody under the age of forty would know
anything about Ginsberg and the important of his poem not only as a break in
the kind of poem that was acceptable in polite society but the harsh social
message Ginsberg was laying down. She, not he, asked if he would like to stop
at the café and have a cup of coffee. He figured why not (he did not find out
until after they had a couple of subsequent dates that women, women of all ages,
also trolled the bookstores looking for men, men who say would be looking at
something like Howl which told them the
guy could at least read unlike some of the beasts they had run across in the bars
or at some off-beat party).
That afternoon started
their affair but Lou was from the start apprehensive about their differences in
ages which came up often along the way, for example, when he mentioned that he
had been in Washington on May Day, 1971 and had been arrested in the dragnet
that the cops and military had set up that day she didn’t understand, could not
get around the idea that people would try to shut down the government if it did
not stop the Vietnam War. At times they could work through it like that first
day with Ginsberg (she turned out to have been an English major at Berkeley)
but other times, times when she tried to coax him into jogging which she was crazy
about they would fight civil war worthy battles. He always had the sneaking
suspicion that Rosalita was not telling the truth when she mentioned that she
had had trouble with her male peers, boys she called them, and had been
attracted to older men ever since her father had abandoned her family when she
was twelve. She had told him repeatedly that she was looking for the maturity and
security that an older man would bring. Lou could never really get that through
his head and eventually his tilted his behavior toward giving dear Rosalita
reason to boot him out the door. (On top of meeting Moira closer in age to him
at the museum when for one last effect to reconcile they had moved to Boston).
That night Lou though
maybe Rosalita had been just like Marie and Rosalyn needing a safe harbor.
Damn.
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