So.... because I'm a nice person and I really don't want to hate where I live (and sometimes, it's way more general than even a state and it includes in general how Americans are complete dumb-asses about history), I thought I'd give a counter-point to the last post.
Monmouth County is awesome. They have a great historical society here (societies, I guess I should say). They are aggressive in fighting overdevelopment and in preserving not just historic sites, but open spaces. All this farmland. Case in point - an article in the Independent News about the County trying to get a grant to keep the 183.5 acre Freneau Farm as an open space. This county, is, in fact, extraordinary in that this is regular policy. I love it. It's my favorite part of living in Middletown - all this open space and all these beautiful parks.
You know what? Somerset County sucks.
You know what else? I'm becoming like my mother in this. That's a down-side. But, that's because I'm extremely childish. My mom is big into historic house preservation. Big.
So anyway, as I was thinking about all this, I realized that what I've just done is exactly like what Alan Alda and Ellen Burstyn did in "Same Time, Next Year" which came out in 1978 and I know it's lame I know about this movie, because I was six at the time and the fact that I know this movie so well means that I've watched sooo much tv that not only have I seen this movie before, but I've seen it multiple times. Whew. Anyway, they were both married to other people, and they came together for one weekend every year to basically "bone". Or "get it on". Your choice.
(Side note: Phebe, I'm sorry for the crassness, but, well, I can't help it. I love you, though. Forgive.)
So anyway, the movie spans decades. What I mean is that each scene takes place during one weekend of their tryst, so that the whole movie is just these two in a room, every five years or ten years or so. So it's also a commentary on American history as seen through their clothing and the things they talk about and blah blah.
And before I tell you how this movie relates at all to New Jersey's sucky appreciation of history, I'll tell you my one big problem with the movie. Well, I have a few, but I'll stick with my biggest problem. One decade, Ellen Burstyn is this fierce, cougar-y, Gloria Steinam feminist-y career woman who just started her own catering business after decades of being a stay at home mom. (That was in the earlier scenes.) So she's in her forties, I guess. Then THE VERY NEXT SCENE, she's a grandma! Quiet and tired with a church lady hairdo. Gone is the fierceness. Now she's just accepting. Of what, I don't know. Death? It's the last scene and I won't reveal anything, but by that time, she's completely sexless, so it's always amazed me that Alan Alda would want to bone her at all at that point. He's still pretty sexy. (Don't get me started.)
Alright. So their characters, in every scene (meaning every decade or so - seriously, for the life of me I can't remember if it's every five years or every ten - needs another viewing), do this thing where they offer up something they hate about their spouse and then have to say something they love about their spouse. Excuse me for saying this, writer of "Same Time, Next Year," but if they were regularly fucking another person, isn't this kind of weird? I mean, if they really loved their spouse, wouldn't they STOP doing something that would be so hurtful if it was found out?
So, I've just done that with New Jersey - I hate you because you tear down an estate for a PC Richards and then have the balls to leave a pile of stones and a plaque; I like you (I can't even write the word love there) because you, in some places, aggressively work to preserve your history and beautiful countryside. But I'd still leave you in a fucking heartbeat if I could. To shag Alan Alda full time. WTF, you know?
Update: I was trying to make this blog more interesting by adding a photo and this is all I found:
How effin lame is that? Why do I remember this movie so well? Because clearly, no one else does. A copy of the dvd cover. (This shows the hair of the fierce cougar-y career woman Ellen Burstyn, btw.) The only other picture was of an old folded up movie poster. Sad.
BTW also? I totally feel like a blogger now. Yeee-hawww!
OK. Update of update: I may be insane and I apologize for that and for this post in general. But I went a little further into Google Images and found some dude's write up of Ellen's performance in this movie. And there are screen-caps! So I get to show you the grandma hair! Yay! And look! She's wearing a beige cardigan! I'll stop now.