Two stupid guys

Today, Dec. 30, 2011, Christmas arrived for me.

No, I'm not Orthodox. I'm anything but orthodox.

Today, a special package arrived. I haven't opened it yet, but I know what it is. I ought to: I ordered it myself.

I will coerce my wife into giving it to me tonight. Then I can open it.

So what is it?

It's a DVD set: "Laurel and Hardy: The Essential Collection." As a big Laurel and Hardy fan, it's something I have wanted for a long, long time. But I couldn't get it for a very good reason: There was no such animal.

Back in the days of VHS tapes, they put out a few tapes tapes of L&H's comedies. But in all the years that DVDs have been around, most of the L&H comedies haven't been available on DVD. Not here in the States, anyway.

But there was a nice set available over in England and Europe: I looked on the U.K.'s Amazon store, and there it was, and it looked really good. It also looked pretty pricey, especially with intercontinental shipping. But if you're a loyal L&H fan, that won't get in the way.

I put it on my Amazon U.K. "wish list," and occasionally I would open that page and look at the price. I was tempted many times, but I held back. Someday, I told myself, the L&H collection will become available in the States. Sooner or later.

It was later. But "later" finally arrived this fall, and I finally made the order a week or two ago, after ordering the other gifts. I made sure it would be something I wouldn't ever be tempted to return.

You may know that I love most of the classic comedians from the '20s and '30s. Buster Keaton. Roscoe Arbuckle. W.C. Fields. The Marx Brothers. Chaplin. And Laurel & Hardy. The best-known comedians of today--they can't hold a candle to them. Not even close (in my opinion).

The L&H collection includes both their shorts and their feature films. None of their silent shorts, unfortunately. I've collected a few of them over the years. Someday, those will be released in a DVD set, too. I hope.

When I moved from Milwaukee to the U.P., I had cable TV for the first time, and I found a Detroit station that carried an hour of Laurel and Hardy at about 10 p.m. each night. That's how I got to first see them. It was love at first sight.

I got my first VCR about 1984, and I started recording Laurel and Hardy. I showed some of them to my dad--he had seen them before, of course, but that was a long time ago. Now he was seeing the shorts from the prime of their career, and he roared with laughter.

"Boy," he would say, shaking his head, "you have to be pretty darn smart to look so stupid." And right there, he nailed exactly why the comedies are classic. Both Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy worked very hard at their craft and paid close attention to what audiences liked. For example, think about all the times when Laurel breaks into high-pitched crying. Laurel hated doing that, but he knew the audiences loved it.

I learned about W.C. Fields first. This was when I was in high school, near Milwaukee. My dad even took me to see my first W.C. Fields movie--this would have been in the late '60s, long before even VCRs, when the Fields movies (mostly made in the '30s) were long-ago memories. Somehow, I saw a theater that was showing "You Can't Cheat an Honest Man," his circus-themed movie, and we went to see it.

I tried to return the favor with the Laurel and Hardy comedies I taped from the Detroit channel. One year, I recorded a VCR tape of Laurel and Hardy and gave it to him for Christmas. Among the things I recovered when we closed up the house after my mom went into the nursing home, I made sure the Laurel and Hardy tape came along. My dad died in 1994.

When we talked about the classic movie comedians, he would occasionally ask me: "Did you ever hear of Wheeler and Woolsey?" "Every see Wheeler and Woolsey?"

He obviously had, and just as obviously he remembered them fondly. I was in the dark. They were just names to me. Years after he died, I learned about them on the internet.

It turns out that Bert Wheeler and Robert Woolsey formed a popular comedy team in the 1930s that is mostly forgotten now. Copied from Wikipedia:

"Curly-haired Bert Wheeler played the ever-smiling innocent, and bespectacled Robert Woolsey played the genially leering “big idea” man that often got the pair in trouble. The vivacious Dorothy Lee usually played Bert's romantic interest.

"The Wheeler & Woolsey pictures are loaded with joke-book dialogue, original songs, puns and sometimes racy double-entendre gags."

Woman (coyly indicating her legs): Were you looking at these?
Woolsey: Madam, I'm above that.

Woolsey (worried about a noblewoman): She's liable to have us beheaded.
Wheeler: Beheaded?! Can she do that?
Woolsey: Sure, she can be-head.

Flirt: Sing to me!
Wheeler: How about One Hour with You?
Flirt: Sure! But first, sing to me!

Over the last few years, Turner Classic Movies has carried many of the Wheeler & Woolsey films, and I have recorded as many of them as I can. Time restraints being what they are, I have only had time to see two of them, but they were fun to watch, and I want to see the rest of them. For the sake of my dad, who loved them, and for Wheeler and Woolsey themselves. The team ended in 1938 when Woolsey, the wise guy who wore the big round goggles, got sick and died of kidney failure.

Seeing more of Wheeler and Woolsey is one of the projects I have set for myself in 2012. That and catching up with Laurel and Hardy.

Loveletter

I just wanted to write about a letter I got from K recently.

"I was thinking about us today and that when we get together, I feel young like a teenager again. I really love being with you. It was so romantic last night."

These are the words of a 59-year-old girl, writing to her (nearly) 62-year-old lover.

K and I don't get to spend as much time together as we'd like. We haven't slept together since early September. We hadn't had a date since mid November. We're both working full-time, you know. But recently she had a day off, and I knocked off from work an hour or so early to drive down her way.

It's not that we did very much. After I picked her up, we drove to a nearby department store. She was looking for Christmas gifts. She found one item, and we looked around at some of the women's clothes for a while and traded ideas.

Then we went to a McDonald's--we had coupons for a free "large sandwich" with the purchase of another. Mainly, we just wanted to sit and talk. About us, things we want to do. Places we want to go together. Experiences we want to share. We were looking back at this past summer--things we did, things we didn't get around to--and looking ahead to next year. There's six months of cold weather between then and now. But the warm weather will come back, and once again we won't have to wear layer upon layer upon layer.

Then I took her for a short ride in my car. I wanted her to try out the car's heated seats--and since it was only about +12F outside (-11C), she really enjoyed them. Especially since (as I found out later) under her jeans she only wore a pair of low-rise string panties. (She said they had reindeer on them--very Christmasy--but it was too dark to see.)

We wound up back at a city park near a lake. It was only 8 p.m., but the last traces of daylight had long since disappeared. We sat in the car and continued our talk. And we snuggled. And we played. This time we never left the front seat, and there is a large console between the seats. Eventually the car started getting cold, so I turned it on for a few minutes.

I ran the car twice to warm things up and clear the windows in the time we we were there. As the car warmed up, we just sat together and leaned against each other. Not a lot to say. We were just happy. We always are happy when we're together.

After a while, I drove her back to her place, got an update on the Thursday night football game from her guy and then started the drive towards home and my life.

Do I think about living with her permanently? Once in a while I do, of course. But I love my wife, too, and K loves her guy. We both know that you can love two people, even if you happen to be married.

And since my wife and her guy know all about us and how we feel and since they approve of us, it works out fine. The four of us have all met each other several times and have become friends.

It's amazing, isn't it? Really, a miracle. Sometimes I sit and ponder how lucky I am. How lucky we are, that our partners don't get in our way. We have problems getting together, sure, but nearly all of them are related to working full time and how hard it is to get away from our work duties and cross this distance that separates us. It's a little more than an hour each way. Now that we're in winter, we have to see whether Old Man Winter is going to be a problem. Maybe yes and maybe no.

Whatever, we will find a way. And even when we can't get together, we will write. And when we lie down and close our eyes, our spirits will leave our resting bodies and dance together in the night, in some other plane of existence. And we will both smile as we sleep and feel bathed in the warmth of love.

K ended her letter: "Bye for now. I have to get ready for bed and an early shift.

"Sweet dreams, I will be thinking of you."

Dr. Dog goes to a Gay bar

It's true. I went there. And now I'm going to tell you all about it.

In fact, this is something I have wanted to do for a long time.

OK, OK, I know this may blast away all perceptions many of you have formed about me over the years. So let me explain.

It happened a few weeks ago, in late October. I was going to cover a football game about 100 miles from home. The game was to start just after noon, and the weather was fairly good for mid autumn. A bit cool and cloudy but no rain or drizzle or snow. (Not like now. But I digress.)

I was going there by myself, so this was my golden opportunity: Today is the day I will go to a Gay bar!

Here comes the spoiler:

Open up Google Maps. Find the Keweenaw Peninsula. It's the part of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan that dangles out north into Lake Superior. You might think from its location that it's really cold and snowy and windy in winter. If so, you are 100% right.

Zoom in a bit. See Houghton? That's where Michigan Technological University is. On the opposite side of the Portage Canal is Hancock. Further north is Calumet. Follow me so far?

OK, now took straight east from Calumet. Zoom in a bit. Look all the way over to the Lake Superior shore. Zoom in a bit more. Not too far from the water's edge is a little town called Gay. You may have to zoom in again.

It was named Gay long before today's best-known definition of the word came into being. Right around 1900. Like many towns in the U.P., Gay was named after a mining firm's director. Joseph E. Gay explored the area in the 1890s and helped open the area to copper mining--mining was one of the major industries in the U.P. for generations. Today, all the mines are either closed or tourist attractions.

On this morning, I went to Lake Linden first (the site of the game), then turned onto Bootjack Road, then Traprock Valley Road and then onto Gay Road (also known as County Road 652) ...



If you want to get to Gay, you have to follow the Gay Road. Don't worry about toll booths or taking the wrong exit--it's two-lane all the way. Yes, it is paved ...



Along the way I passed Rice Lake Road and Gay Park Road. Yes, there is a Gay Park Road. If you find it, you're getting close ...



And then ...



... I was at the Gay city limits.

This is the main drag. It's called Main Street ...



Well, as you can see, it's not a very big place. Two long streets and several short ones. It isn't incorporated. Its population as of 2000 was just 60, and it hasn't grown since. The post office addresses are for Lake Linden. So don't ask what Gay's Zip Code is.

But yes, you can there get there from here. In fact, from Gay, you can get to many places. All roads lead to Gay ...



The old Gay School still stands, though it has obviously seen better days. For some reason, they call it Sherman Township, and the historical society is asking for donations to keep it up. Pun intended ...



Since we have touched on that, there is something entirely phallic in town. A 265-foot reinforced concrete smokestack from the old days. It still stands, straight and proud and tall. But it isn't attached to anything--the old boiler plant for the stamp mill that once existed in Gay is long gone.

(You can see the smokestack in the background of the "Gay" city limits photo.)

I drove around for a while, looking at this and that. I especially wanted to see The Gay Bar. That is its name. They have a website and sell sweatshirts that say "The Gay Bar" and all that stuff. They reputedly make pretty good cheeseburgers.

Then I found it. The end of the rainbow. My destination. Finally -- The Gay Bar ...



It was closed.

Fairly early in the day, you know. Even for a cheeseburger.

Nothing to do but drive back to my football game ...