Is This You: Fleet of Foot

There are unfortunately some really bad shows on what we all call or have in the past called, the boob tube. The origin of this nickname for television is probably rooted somewhere between shows that may still be in the wings of Hollywood back rooms waiting for their time in the limelight. Exciting shows like Learn How to Paint by Numbers or Watching Real Time Pass in the Dark. Then there are the shows we stop all things in our world for.

I have friends who absolutely will not do anything during their shows. Not just soap operas but comedies, dramas, “real life” adventures. Everyone has something that they need a shot of once a week. No phone, text or even bathroom calls. You get to know when and where your friends are when they will not be disturbed during these times and you accept them for their choices. These people may not have yet discovered there are ways to tape their shows for later viewing. Even if they can tape for later they would not hear of it. Nope you have to see it as it comes on. First, new, never seen before — even if it’s a re-run. Re-runs are must see TV too. After all you might have missed something the first time around. But! Yes a rerunning “but.” But I whole heartedly support those desires even though I think TV is still a “boob tube.”

There is something though that I do that I am sure is just silly to my “do not disturb” friends. I watch old movies. Over and over again. The good movies with acting and lighting that was superbly set accentuating dark eyes on the fem-fatal. Story lines with real stories and powerful lines. Performances with not a hint of extra music or something being blown to smithereens. Really, when was the last time you watched something, anything where the actor said more than oh, let’s say 15 words in one scene? Oh you’re so going to watch something tonight and count the words of favorite TV characters. You’ll be very surprised. Won’t be because of some director’s cut either. It just doesn’t happen. Not unless you watch an old movie where the movie is mesmerizing. Instead of one where you come away with your ears bleeding.

Oh, don’t get me wrong I like to watch The Rock save the day by jumping into the two hundred story burning building from a helicopter he put on auto pilot. (Helicopter autopilot? Really!) Saving his wife who he was going to divorce just before the massive earthquake hit. Come on that stuff is kinda cool even for this girl. Then however there are the dances that Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers performed. With him all tuxedoed up and her in flowing chiffon and silk. Gliding to music without words so you can just watch the dance and not be concerned as to who is singing and if their version is better than the guy who sang it in the last decade when the song first came out. Now that’s the definition of swoon.

But! What of all that chiffon and high heels? Recently I was watching one of those clips of dance and sway. It was from a 1934 movie and was said to have been Fred and Ginger’s very best performance. I have to agree, it was amazing. Well of course, me being me, I got to thinking. How many takes did it take to get all those moves down without stepping on that perfectly lengthen dress with her in those four, yes four inch heels? Have you ever watched a cop show where the cop has the bad guy dead to rights and pulls out his gun and then—does not shoot? Then in exasperation you say, “Why didn’t he shoot, I would’ve shot!” I probably wouldn’t believe you if you told me you didn’t at least think it. Maybe it’s just my circle of acquaintances who would’ve said it, I don’t think so though. I’m just saying. Along those same lines when I watch this pair dance I have to wonder how many times they skittered landing in a pile, all knees and elbows with those heels tangled up in all that chiffon.

Being fleet of foot is something that is becoming more of something in the past than in the future for some of us who graduated high school in the last century. HAHA. So when these old movies come on they are wonderfully special to watch. Remembering there really was a time when I could walk and chew gum—yes at the same time.

Trina lives in Eureka, Nevada. Find her on Facebook, Instagram or at itybytrina@yahoo.com