The Vintage Reader

Well, darn. The Pennsylvania Farm Show must be over. No more square dancing, donkey-packing, or tractor-pulling for another year. I could watch 24, except it's loud and ridiculous and I missed the first part of the two-part season premiere, so I'm watching Eurythmics videos from the 80s on some other channel. That's kind of vintage, isn't it?

Or hey: I could read a book. I mean, really, isn't that what this blog is supposed to be about?

Oh well.

...but now I'm watching the polka competition from the Pennsylvania Farm Show (this year's farm show this time, not 1995's). I can't believe there's a whole channel in Philadelphia that seems to be completely devoted to all Pennsylvania Farm Show, all the time.

The polka competition is much more fun to watch than the square dance competition, btw. Each contestant couple gets a complimentary bottle of wine from a local winery.

Please, someone just shoot me now. Or send me a copy of Mila 18. Please. I'm begging you.

Look what's showing tonight on educational access: The Stranger, a 1946 Orson Welles thriller.

Also, it turns out that the square dance competition I was watching the other night was from 1995. All week long they've been broadcasting old footage of the Pennsylvania Farm Show. This is so incredibly pointless that I can't even think of an appropriate remark. Especially not while watching this movie, which is really pulling me in. Wow. (And is it my imagination, or does Vincent D'Onofrio really, really look like Orson Welles?)

Okay, I'm watching educational access television in Philadelphia, and I'm quite surprised to find out that there are actually teenagers in Pennsylvania who are dorky enough to participate in square dance competitions at the Pennsylvania Farm Show. And that these competitions are televised, although the cinematography leaves something to be desired: I just watched as the camera panned across about four couples' feet to zoom in on an empty square of dirt for a minute or so before jumping back to the caller.

You can learn a lot from educational access television. For example, did you know that there's a form of dancing similar to square dancing, except that the calls are more like ballroom dance steps, and the caller is called a cuer? And that "Winter Wonderland" was written by a Pennsylvania native? Well, now you do, thanks to educational access television and the Vintage Reader.

And now, thank God, it's time for House, which I keep trying to watch but keep missing. I really, really miss my ReplayTV. I also miss ACTUAL cable TV. And, you know, my husband, and my cat, and my house, and my car, and my coffee, and, well, my LIFE.

Mila 18. There's nothing like reading about a bunch of people you really, really like who are forced to leave their homes and become squatters; are then starved, shot at, bombed, and burned out; and finally have to wade through the sewers to escape, to make you appreciate your own situation. In case you're not familiar with it, Mila 18 is Leon Uris' incredible novel about the Warsaw ghetto. The characters are all interesting, and the story is told so well that it seems like history itself is the plot. Leon Uris is the master of the modern epic novel, and IMO, this is his finest work. Also one of his shortest, I think.

I went looking for more of his stuff out in the house. I did find Trinity, and of course, the aforementioned tape of Exodus, which, if it follows the book, has one of the characters from Mila 18 in it anyway. But no Mila 18. When I get home, I might send a spare copy down here. Perhaps someone else will appreciate it too.

Well, it's been a while since my last post, and the baby is still in the hospital, but now it's another hospital in another city, and I'm staying at the Ronald McDonald House. If you live in a city with a children's hospital, there's probably a Ronald McDonald House there; their purpose is to provide a place for out-of-town parents to stay while their children are being treated at the hospital. It's really an amazing service--volunteers provide meals and food, there are shuttles to the hospital every couple of hours, and of course, everybody here is going through the same thing, so there's a lot of peer support.

But on top of all of that, it's a veritable smorgasbord of vintage reading and watching. The first week, I read The Last Convertible, which is part of that genre of books that came out from the mid-70s to early 80s about Ivy Leaguers in the 40s and 50s. My hands-down favorite in the genre is Rona Jaffe's Class Reunion, and The Last Convertible doesn't even come close. I went looking for Class Reunion on the off chance that it would be squirreled away in one of the many bookcases that are scattered around the house, but only found Mazes and Monsters, Jaffe's novel that was loosely based on the real story of a kid who got lost in a cave playing a live-action D&D game. (I found a book about the real kid, written by the private detective who found him, at a book sale; it was awful, and I've had it up on Paperback Swap for months with no nibbles.) M&M is okay too, but as an adult I don't find it as appealing as I did when I saw the TV movie. Of course, when the movie came out I had a huge crush on Chris Makepeace (What? He was kind of the Thinking Girl's Heartthrob before John Cusack came along), so that might explain it.

I did take the opportunity to pick up a fairly recent popular chick lit novel that I've never wanted to pay for. I made it through one chapter. I keep thinking I should get off my high horse and give chick lit another chance, but every time I do I have the same reaction--I want to throw the book across the room and write a protest letter to the publisher.

In the vintage watching category, there are tapes and DVDs that you wouldn't believe. A two-tape set of Exodus, still shrink-wrapped, and...

OH MY GOD, THAT'S DINAH MANOFF! (sorry, I'm watching Ordinary People on TV. I've never seen it all the way through before. After four weeks of perusing the vintage tape selections, I'm back to watching TV--local TV, plus a couple of educational access channels and home shopping. I love the clothes in this movie because they actually look like things I was wearing in 1980.)

Anyway, this is basically a throwaway post; I'm just trying to get my blogging chops back. Mr. Vintage Reader and I are keeping a blog of our baby's progress, but that's different--I have to be all chirpy and positive all the time over there, because our families and friends and co-workers are all reading it. I don't feel the same obligation here, although this particular post is a result of my trying to find something fun and positive about being by myself in the Ronald McDonald House, six and a half hours from home, with my little guy (who I have to say is adorable, even though I'm not really what you might call a baby person) still in the hospital several blocks away, on a Saturday night.