Sunday, August 27, 2017

The Sunday Memory Drawer - Hey, Lady!

Jerry Lewis died last Sunday and I'm wondering if France had a national day of mourning.   After all, they revered his act which, of course, makes that whole country suspect.

Now I read lots of accolades on Jerry's passing and they were all clearly from people who didn't know him.   I myself, in my own little spot of the universe, know four or five people who either worked with him or saw him in action.   They will testify under oath that he was a raging scumbag that should have dropped dead years ago.   But then, there's my personal trainer who met him while he was on the bell staff of a Ritz-Carlton and reports that he was the nicest guy he ever met.   Okay, maybe there was a big tip involved that influenced this affinity.

And then there's my own mother.   Ages ago, when she was working for the accounting firm that handled Jerry's pet charity muscular dystrophy, Mom actually worked on the famed telethon and got to meet him.   Now, prior to this, my mother looked at Jerry with great disdain.

"Raising money for all these poor kids and yet he makes fun of deformed people in his movies."

Yes, one could argue that.  Back when I was a kid, Jerry Lewis was a big deal and a huge box office draw at the movies.   Before I could go to the cinema by myself, my parents would take me regularly.   Mom would take me to all the Disney and Biblical movies.   My dad took me to all the war movies.   And, because somebody needed to go with me, my father got stuck accompanying me to the latest Jerry Lewis epic playing always at the Loews Theater on Stevens Avenue in Mount Vernon, New York.  Again, Mom sneered.

"Your father can take you to see that idiot."

And so he did.  

The Bellboy.

The Errand Boy.

Rock-a-Bye Baby.

The Ladies Man.

The Family Jewels.

For the release of the Nutty Professor, I was already set loose on my own and probably went with one of my neighborhood pals to see that.   The special attraction for that film was Jerry actually making an appearance in the middle of the movie live on the stage of the Mt. Vernon Loews.   In those days, stars did that to plug their films.   And when somebody from Hollywood came all the way to Stevens Avenue in my hometown, you paid attention.  

Indeed, I'm not sure what I liked about those Jerry Lewis escapades except that they were nothing but live action cartoons.  I've seen them in retrospect and I barely giggle, let alone laugh.  From my vantage point, Lewis was much better when he was teamed in a series of films with Dean Martin who could anchor his mayhem a bit.  But I was a little kid then and, for some bizarre dog whistle reason, he appealed to me.

And certainly not to my mother.   Until that one Labor Day where she had to work at his telethon which was still being broadcast from Manhattan.

"He's quite a guy."

When I asked Mom why, she was vague.

"I can't explain it."

And there it is.   Jerry Lewis perfectly described.   An enigma who you either loathed or...suddenly, in the case of my own mother...loved.

Dinner last night:  Sausage and olive pizza from Maria's Italian Kitchen.


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