Monday, January 3, 2011

"Time for my perversion?"

Oh god.  Not another photo from the very early years.  I thought that last one was far too much of a flashback.  Here we are even earlier.  A romantic encounter it would seem.  Looks like I'm being stood up again.  My charm is working overtime.  She's (card) bored silly.  This is in fact an example of developing teenage sexual angst and obsession.  The woman pictured is actress Andrea Dromm.  A blonde cutie whose 15 minutes of fame included doing two famous commercials: one for Summer Blonde hair dye and the other for National Airlines.  She was John Phillip Law's love interest in The Russians Are Coming, The Russians Are Coming, and her tagline for National Airlines, "Come Fly With Me," was punned into the Troy Donahue-helmed spy spoof, Come Spy With Me.  Other males discovered her in Star Trek.  But since I wasn't a Trekker, that appearance had no impact on me (though I'm sure I would have appreciated the mini).

Anyway, this segues into my fundamental pursuit of the muse.  Although I was attracted to all types of women, there was something romantic at the time in the belief that you would find someone who looked similar to you.  Blonde on blonde.  This myth had been fortified by the image of David McCallum with wife Jill Ireland, and Brian Jones with lookalike girlfriend Anita Pallenberg.  Although in retrospect, this might come off as sort of an Aryan vision of a lovefest.  Our children would look like the cast of Village Of The Damned.  Midwitch cuckoos, indeed.  Little blonde go-go girls were all the rage anyway.  Patti Boyd and Judy Geeson.  Ewa Aulin in Candy.  That sort of thing. 

Of course, as one gets older, the adage "Gentleman prefer blondes.  Gentleman marry brunettes" seems to apply (the only exception to this rule would be Hugh Hefner, who seems to have peroxide running through his blood). 

Well, I'm glad to say that despite all the changes in my life, I still worship at the altar of the goddess.  Having been watching the Man From U.N.C.L.E. episodes of the mid-60s and fixating on the swinging starlets of the time, I am amazed at the type of woman I find attractive decade by decade.  '60s women, besides the ones already mentioned, include Barbara Steele, Jane Asher and Marianne Faithfull.  '70s women is a whole other volume, as we could say about glamour girls of the '50s, '40s and '30s.  Eighties?  A whole different dimension.  '90s?  I'm not sure I can fathom it.  And the last '00s?  Even more confused.  I mean, really.  Sue Lyon or Selena Gomez?  Now I guess this reveals I've turned into a dirty old man.  But why does it seem to me that Humbert Humbert today would be in a steam cycle watching the Disney Channel or Nickelodeon?  The Olsen Twins and Dakota Fanning?  I mean, really, now.  One minute they're dribbling cereal in front of Bob Saget; the next they're dating Ben "call me Sir" Kingsley in The Wackness.  Fortunately, my wife is understanding.  And although sometimes she thinks I come close to the border of being pervy, she understands the wisdom of it all.  She thinks The Wizards Of Waverly Place is weird.  So just remember this, folks. Walt Disney had a freakout when Mouseketeer Annette Funicello did all those beach party films.  So wouldn't you think that the ice in his cryogenic freezer has puddled out from excessive Hannah Montana?  Just asking. 

Happy New Year.  Let's see what ladies the '10s will deliver.