"Maybe it was a dream, you know, a very weird, bizarre, vivid, erotic, wet,
detailed dream. Maybe we have malaria."


Reminiscing about the old days…

By: Guest Blogger on 11/8/07 @ 9:09 am

Remember the old days when celebrities were in the closet about their neuroses? Society was uptight and enjoying it. Let’s take a stroll down memory lane, shall we?

First up are Ernest Borgnine and Ethel Merman. They were married for a total of 32 days. Not much was said publicly about that short-lived marriage until 2001 when Borgnine revealed that trouble started on the honeymoon. Apparently he was the more popular star garnering more attention from the fans than his bride, which caused a lot of trouble at home.

Presumably, the “Dutch Oven” also contributed to the problem. Seems Mr. Borgnine had a kooky quirk. He liked to expel noxious gas in bed and then trap Ethel under the sheets. It makes me wonder if he was equal opportunity. Was he cool with Ethel being in the driver’s seat? Or was he a one-trick pony who had to be in control?

I’m guessing he wasn’t much of a receiver, hence the divorce. The important thing to note here is that they were married in the mid-60s and the “Dutch Oven” wasn’t revealed until much later.

Next we have Bob Crane of “Hogan’s Heroes” fame. He was an affable fellow who had a penchant for the ladies. And porn. And cameras. Seems he had many, many partners and he was fond of photographing the ladies and himself, with an auto-focus camera, to the tune of “thousands of photos.”

He was found dead in his apartment on June 29, 1978 with an electrical cord wrapped around his throat the cause of death deemed “violent means – a head injury caused by a blunt instrument, according to an autopsy report by the Maricopa County Medical Examiner.” A weapon was never found, but the blunt instrument is believed to be a camera tripod.

When Master Crane was alive and well, this hobby of his was not well known to the public. It was after his death that this information came to light.

Joan Crawford wasn’t winning any mother of the year awards. Neither was Bing Crosby, for that matter, but they knew how to keep the alcohol and beatings quiet back then. It only came out after each of their deaths when their children were adults and nothing could be done. Both Joan and Bing’s celebrity had peaked well before the cat came howling out of the bag.

Back then a secret was a secret, dammit.

These days it seems celebrities are out there with every last thought that crosses their minds.

Tom Cruise is finally pulling back from the public eye but the courtship of Suri’s mother was kinda crazy, what with the jumping on Oprah’s couch and the slamming of Brooke Shield’s anti-depressant usage. Then there’s the Church of Scientology thing. And the rumors that Katie’s just his beard.

And the pervasive thought that Tom just wants a pretty young thing to control. I’m sure theirs is a love made in heaven and the rest of us just don’t understand it.

That’s cool, just hang under the radar Tom. You’re flippin’ out and you might start to need some of those big bad meds that have helped a lot of people in the past. Just a thought.

Britney Spears is kind of losing her shit in a public way, as is Rosie O’Donnell. Does wealth and celebrity afford a new kind of crazy? It’s entertainment and it is entertaining. I am interested in Britney’s kids and her dog and her bald head. It’s interesting in a train wreck kind of way, but it’s also sad that she is spinning so wildly out of control.

Rosie doesn’t evoke such sympathy in me, though. She’s a tough broad who seems to enjoy crushing the nuts around her. I do think she’s going a tad overboard, though. This deal between her and Donald Trump sort of evolved into a playground fight where he says, “You’re a fat pig.” And she counters with, “Well your hair is so big it has its own kick stand.” And then he goes for the jugular and says, “You’re a bitch.” Rosie probably thought, ‘You’re just compensating for a small unit,’ but she didn’t say that. Out loud, at least. And then they go their own ways. This is not your mother’s old-school fighting.

Are we just living in a Jerry Springer kind of society where it’s okay to just let it all hang out? Is any publicity good publicity? I don’t get it.

Now don’t get me wrong. I enjoy a good mud slinging just as much as the next guy. But sometimes I do long for the days when the gals wore panties and the guys beat their kids in private.

Whatever happened to the good old days?

By Cardiogirl http://www.cardiogirl.net

Filed in: Guest Blogger

About the author

Guest Blogger

Pointlessbanter.net welcomes guest submissions and we post them throughout the week but mostly on the weekends. To find out about being a guest blogger check out the guest blogger page

One Response to “Reminiscing about the old days…”

  1. says:

    Hell, if I had kids, I’d beat them in public AND in private. I’d beat them here, I’d beat them there, I’d beat them in my underwear.

© 2007 Pointless Banter - All Rights Reserved || Designed: E.Webscapes || Social Media Consulting: Comedy Central Sound