Perfect Disharmony

There's a fabulous new show business documentary playing at some isolated theaters. "The Boys" is a wonderful look at the famed Disney songwriting team of Robert Sherman and Richard Sherman and you should see it if given the opportunity. My guess is that it will be on DVD in a few weeks, so you'll have no excuse then.

I was fascinated by their story. Two brothers on different career, life, and personality paths who came together on a lark to write a song. Then another. And another. Several became hits in the 50s and I was shocked to learn that one of them was "You're Sixteen" which years later became one of Ringo Starr's signature ditties.

Naturally, Dick and Bob (you feel like you know them personally after you see the film) hook up with Walt Disney and write a bunch of novelty hits for Annette Funicello. All were supposed hits. None are ever played today. But, then they penned "Lets Get Together" for Hayley Mills and Hayley Mills in "The Parent Trap" and they are off to the races, culminating with Oscars for doing the words and music of "Mary Poppins."

The Shermans' prolific careers are captured here on film by their respective sons, who amazingly did not have much of a relationship when they were younger. Why? Because their fathers barely socialized. Cousins didn't see each other even though they lived less than seven miles apart.

And what family member can't identify with something like that in their own backyard?

The Sherman Brothers were inherently different individuals. Dick was an extrovert, gregarious to a fault and a bit headstrong. Bob was an introvert, reserved and overly analytical. Two peas in separate pods. Diversity soon transcended into conflict. Yet, despite it all, they worked and worked and worked. Together. Writing some of the greatest film and stage music ever done.

In the movie, you learn why and when they clicked and when they didn't. You start to see that another factor in their shaky relationship was their wives. When the women don't mesh, how can the husbands?

And, once again, what family member can't identify with something like that in their own backyard?

As did the compatriots that saw "The Boys" with, I began to think about my family and its spiny tentacles. Holiday dinners that, as people got older and bolder, were less harmonious and then ultimately non-existent. Every boxer retreated to their corner, but never came out again for the next round.

I thought about my father's relationship with his own three brothers. I have no clue how he got along with the one who was killed in WWII. He was very close to another who also died at a very young age, leaving my dad (the youngest) and another brother (the oldest). And they seemed to be as diverse and polar opposite as the Shermans. Not so oddly, they didn't even speak for the last ten years of their lives, which ironically ended within three days of each other. So, after all the drama, where did they ultimately wind up at almost the same time?

It's all the same. Whether you're living on Paulding Avenue in the Bronx or on Roxbury Drive in Beverly Hills. Whether you're dirt poor or Academy Award rich. Family discord. A tie that apparently binds us all.

Chim Chim Cheree indeed.

Dinner last night: BLT sandwich at Islands.