Memories of Las Vegas

A couple of years ago, my son, Jim, decided to invite the whole family and all his friends to celebrate his birthday in, of all places, Las Vegas. In my eyes, it’s a glitzy, nearly surreal world. I wasn’t thrilled about going there, but, confession time, I loved being there (not because of Vegas – I don’t gamble – but because of the people I was with). I reminisced as I watched “Ocean’s Thirteen.” The film, based in Vegas, brought back happy memories.If you enjoyed “Ocean’s Eleven” and “Ocean’s Twelve,” then I suggest you see Ocean’s Thirteen.” The first one wasn’t a masterpiece, but it was fun – the second not so. “Ocean’s Thirteen” is more like the first. Nothing important is going on, and that’s all right if you take it lightly and enjoy the ride. Danny Ocean (George Clooney – sigh!) rounds up the boys for a short heist after casino owner Wally Bank (played by Al Pacino – a fine addition to today’s rat pack) double-crosses one of the original eleven (Elliot Gould – he grew older when I wasn’t looking – but, then again, so did I!). Brad Pitt just seemed to stand around with his shirt unbuttoned – but he’s so pretty, so who cares! Pitt and Clooney are handsome, cool and funny – also very nicely decked out. “Ocean’s Thirteen” has a cachet all its own with eye-pleasing duds and high-tech high jinx that I couldn’t follow. No deep thoughts come to mind in this flashy, star-filled male dominated film. The starry cast enthusiastically struts its stuff across the screen. The plot itself doesn’t require a lot of thought. Taking the consideration of logic out of the equation, it’s possible to enjoy the charming cast. In my eyes, George Clooney is still the best. Like Cary Grant before him, he just oozes star quality. “Ocean’s Thirteen” is summer mindlessness dressed up for partying – a fine popcorn flick.

My personable grandson, Zach who is in his 20s, has the kind of good looks that turns heads when he walks by. More importantly, he has smarts, a sense of humor and intellectual curiosity (it sound as if I love the guy – I do!). With the above in mind, when he was fortunate enough to be invited to see the American Ballet Theatre’s “Sleeping Beauty,” he accepted. It was his first taste of ballet and, frankly, he was not overwhelmed. His polite reaction to me was that he found it “interesting.” He was also impressed by the “dressed up” audience. Well, it was on a Saturday night at Lincoln Center. On the very same week that Zach went to ABT’s ballet, I saw a ballet by the New York City Ballet that thrilled me to the core. Entitled “Essential Robbins,” it featured three by the remarkable choreographer, Jerome Robbins. They were “In G Major,” music by Maurice Ravel, “Dances at a Gathering,” music by Frederic Chopin, and “I’m Old Fashioned,” music by Morton Gould, based on a theme by Jerome Kern. All three are extraordinary ballets. “I’m Old Fashioned” was the last one on the program, and if asked to choose a favorite (difficult), I’d pick that one. “I’m Old Fashioned” opens with a huge wonderful clip of an elegantly attired Fred Astaire dancing with a beautifully gowned and gorgeous Rita Hayworth. It was truly amazing to see how choreographer Jerome Robbins created each of the dances in the ballet from different movements in the film, “You Were Never Lovelier.” It’s a fascinating display of Robbins’ craft and theatricality. If you’re interested in learning more about the artist, you can view the Jerome Robbins Film Archive at the Dance Collection at the New York Public Library at Lincoln Center. Happily, it’s open to the public – no charge. Frankly, unless I take Zach by the hand, I don’t think he will make the effort.

Well, whaddya gonna do? After eight years of making sure to be home on Sunday evenings to see-what? – a television program, its gone bada-bye. The gang that redefined “family drama” gave us zit, zingers and organized hits. Tony Soprano, a sociopathic killer, became my favorite anti-hero. How can I live without “The Sopranos?” How could I, who hates violence, be so sympathetic to characters, who clearly are deserving of hate! Yet, with admittedly frenzied anticipation, I actually counted the days before its end – and it was a perfectly imperfect finish (huh?!). “The Sopranos” is considered the richest achievement in the history of television due to top-flight scripts and fine actors (not a dud in the carload!). The program has been with us for a long time – longer than the Bush administration – and nothing seems more interminable than that. By now, we’ve all watched the final show fade to black thinking it was television malfunction. We watched it end with a non-ending. “The Sopranos” went out with a whimper – and I felt as if I had been whacked! P.S. – There’s hope. On Monday nights, there’s another HBO family drama, “Big Love,” which has a similar premise: sympathetic mobsters, sympathetic polygamists, a similar style without most of the sex and violence. We’ll stay tuned and let you know all about it.

When I go to the Bayonne Post Office to buy stamps, I look for unusual ones. Last time, I bought the chocolate kisses’ love stamps to use when I write to my three teenage granddaughters – Ali, Melissa and Rachel. Happily, I recently discovered that the post office got hip. I was able to buy Ella Fitzgerald stamps. The United States Post Office honored the singer for her extraordinary contribution to the world of music. Fitzgerald’s singing, at once girlish, wise and all-forgiving, transcended age, race, sex and genre. Happily, I tuned into a PBS “Great Performances” concert that featured many wonderful vintage television clips. The broadcast was rightly titled “We Love Ella!” She was serene, every-cheerful jazz monument. Her rhythmic command was supreme. I especially enjoyed hearing many of Fitzgerald’s signature songs, songs that the Bayonne Senior Orchestra plays: “Lady Be Good,” “How High the Moon” and “Ain’t Misbehavin'” among many more. The lady with the flexible, wide-ranging and ageless voice is quoted as saying, “I sing like I feel – the only thing better than singing is more singing.” Some singers just exercise their tonsils. Not this jazz singer. Fitzgerald was no glamour girl, but “God gave me this talent to use, so I just stand and sing,” she was quoted as saying. Perhaps PBS will repeat “We Love Ella!” so you can see it – and I’ll be able to enjoy it – one more time!

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