Drove my Chevy to the...

Fifty years ago in the summer of 1963, John Kennedy, visited Hawaii to address a conference of mayors. Thousands, 6 deep, thronged the streets as his motorcade moved through downtown Honolulu. I don't exactly remember why, but I found myself embedded at the airport, eschewing the chaotic city streets for a glimpse of the President as he caught his return flight back to the mainland. I was perched far enough behind the surging mass to have an unobstructed view of Jack Kennedy as he turned at the top of the boarding platform waving...his hair, shockingly more auburn than any photo had ever depicted.

Months later my senior class picnic was held at Bellows Field Beach, a wild, beautiful stretch of sand and surf near the town of Waimanalo.  I was driving my blue convertible Chevy Nova; the car packed with girls, towels, and illicit cigarettes. Tunes were blaring from the radio; an excursion from the mundane rigor of high school was always an excuse for hi jinks. We were the top dogs, the alphas and we were going to enjoy every second of the day. It was 9:00 when we left the campus. Somewhere between the school and Bellows Field, with the radio cutting in and out and the breaking news marred by heavy static, we learned Jack Kennedy had died in Dallas. Every person in the car began to cry. I was emotionally paralyzed behind the wheel. To this day, I have no idea how the car did not lurch off the road. When we returned to the school, the nuns led us in the rosary via an intercom. I drove my Chevy not to the levee, but home; retrieved my cigarettes and retreated to the park behind my house. There after lighting the first smoke, I balled my eyes out; my adolescence crushed, like so many others, fluttered hopelessly under the Hawaiian sun.

True Blue

1. Joni Mitchell. The greatest songwriter, recording artist of her generation turned 70 on Thursday. Her songs have been covered through the decades by Judy Collins, Crosby, Still, Nash and Young, Tori Amos, Hole, Annie Lennox, Prince, etc. etc. Her album, Blue, is the crown jewel in her long and storied career which has spanned 4 decades often weaving in and out of musical genres...from acoustic to jazz, to pop.  Never afraid to cross over and experiment, her music spurred collaborations (the list is long) with Mingus, Jaco Pastorius, Peter Gabriel, Pat Metheny, Willie Nelson, and Tom Petty among others. A Canadian national treasure Joni Mitchell was awarded a Companion of the Order of Canada, only the third recording artist to have that honor bestowed. Leonard Cohen, and Gordon Lightfoot are the other two.

2. Blue is the Warmest Color. I went. I watched. I loved it. Like all thought provoking artistic endeavors which differ from subjective concepts of the norm, there is a shit storm that surrounds it. Banned in Idaho. As an artist, conservative backlash like that, um, bring it on. Can't stand the heat? Get out of the fire. The author, Julie Maroh, of the book, 'Le Blue est une Coleur Chaude which the movie was based on blasted what she saw. I respect Maroh's critique, but when you give your work up to another medium, visions often collide. Abdellatif Kechiche, the director, has been smacked down by his two young actors. The 10 minute scene has been dissected over and over again. And if you don't know what I'm talking about, you've been floating with Bullock in another galaxy. Is there a lot of 'skin?' In the context of the story, no. In the actual protracted scene, yes. Understand this, though, this is a very French film. It's 3 hours. It is packed with dialogue. Tight camera shots. Intimate excursions...dining, bars, school, demonstrations...hand held cameras; roiling tension, vulnerability, and growth. This is not just a coming out. It is Adele's story. Mostly. And Emma's too. It is a complex journey which spans 5 years. It is ultimately unrequited love. This is not a film for everyone. No doubt there will be dialogue and bitching for days. But, if you're living outside the lines, that's nothing new. Kudos to the French jury for presenting the Palme d'Or, Cannes, 2013 to this movie. It took stones. In years to come, this film in every aspect, will be the benchmark by which all others in this genre are measured.