“True Love” A Play in three Acts.
Bear with me. It is just coming together as I write this, and Act 1 is largely absolutely current revelation.
Act 1. 1956. Not Midsummer (the Summer Solstice) but rather the middle of Summer, July-August.
First, let me introduce myself, John Herrell. Growing up in Burlingame, California. Age 12. I was loving the time in which I was living. The incredible cars of the mid-‘50s. The advent of Rock & Roll. Things were moving apace. And especially the cars. It was just so exciting to see the new models each year.
Looking back, I guess I was quite the romantic. I base this largely on one event (though others of the period may complement it). One weekend afternoon, my dad drove me to The Belmont Theater (3 cities and 10 miles away) and dropped me off so I (solo) could see a newly released movie, “High Society.” I’m sure that the hit song (just released) grabbed me and I wanted to see the movie.
Unbeknownst to me, the Ford Motor Company had just rolled out a brand new automobile and provided one to the movie company. And thus did the Continental Mark II achieve an early 15 seconds of fame as it rolled into the driveway (twice!). Here’s the truth: I was floored. I bet my jaw literally dropped. I knew right then (as I knew about the beauty of the various ’55 ’56 and, later, ’57 models as the rolled out) that I was looking at a magnificent automobile. No. What I knew right then and there was that I was looking at the most elegant automobile ever created.
I also loved the rest of the movie.
Time for you to meet Connie Cooper. Concurrently, at age 11 she moved into Burlingame. Cutest little thing in town! She spent some of the summer visiting relatives in Kansas and arrived to her new home in August. And, somewhere along the way, went to see “High Society.” And of course she loved it. Well, with Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, Grace Kelly (her last film) and Satchmo, what is not to love. Oh yeah… not to mention words and lyrics by none other than Cole Porter. WOW!
So Connie’s family came to a big church picnic to meet the folks in their new town. Connie tells the tale of going over to her mother to recount that, “That horrid boy is chasing me around with a croquet mallet.” (What 11 year old talks like that?) Her mother’s wise response was, “He probably just likes you.” Cave-man mentality, I guess. (Yeah, ok, it was me. Guilty as charged.)
Curious aside: As we grew up together in Burlingame, Connie and I lived less than a mile apart. We also each lived less than a mile from Bing Crosby. I’m sure that his side of his street was Hillsborough, and other than physical proximity (knowing that’s where he lived), it was of no further relevance. But a funny historical fact.
Time for an intermission. Next act, early 1960s.
