In Alabama, United States, a man retires after many years in the role of Public Servant. He is a genuinely likable man and this film adds some artistic flourishes to what could have been a mere formal retirement ceremony in a beautifully restored Southern Courthouse…with some other genuinely likable Southern people. “We’re like the Complaint Department (for the public),” he told his employees after thanking them. Toward the end of his career Hon. Ted Hooks suffered a heart attack reportedly centered around the decimation of his staff. Many people’s lives were affected from impersonally artistic flourishes higher up in the profession. May the ink for his favorite stamp always remain inky. – GM Griffin
(New York City) In a stunning last-minute approval, Beau Chong Film, LLc was granted ‘brief licensure’ by Elrod Gettingmuffå of the Mayor’s Office to display the poster until 6:01 A.M. There exists an arcane law stating that film production ‘must not poster from 40th Street to 56th Street without an approved script.’ [Sec. V, Statute II-4(a)] of the Streets and Posters Council, Blephmidd Bonnelrayser, M.M.A., Commissioner. We thank Mr. Gettingmuffå and Bonnelrayser, M.M.A., Commissioner, for also jumping on board as Associate Conditional producers.
(GM Griffin) You are at an awards ceremony. Robust conversation fills the rented room full of colleagues who are also tirelessly driven to report what they see with their eyes. Many never clearly knowing why.
The sound of tinkling rented glasses competes with the drone of workers with bylines meeting in person and sharing what would later be termed, “Good Vibrations.”
You are to receive an award from a legendary colleague replete with Hollywood Writing and Directing credits, Southern novels, essays and opinions on international affairs as, “Reporter from the Pentagon.” The white-haired man presenting these awards for excellence in radio broadcasting eventually calls you, for you are being recognized, too.
You receive your award as your heart beats and you squeeze the flesh of his hand. He feels like a fellow writer at that moment. The perspiration and cold palm you gave him would not ever be mentioned. Your secret is safe with a colleague. You speak and as you return to your seat and corral swirling emotions just jettisoned throughout shared air you feel at one with the effort and are satisfied to belong.
Moments later, you refocus your thoughts onto the proceedings. Like the dream you just left you now see the white-haired man’s head gently “lying on the table like a child’s when it’s tired” atop the rented table where he sat between congratulations.
So, you write about it to let your heart beat. After all, you are a Journalist.
“This is a film clip of two females assembling, unfolding a three (3) wheel electric car. The car can be fashioned as either a convertible with side doors or as a front entrance car with full cover for the passenger compartment. The car can be folded up for storage. It is an all electric drive vehicle for ease of maintenance.”
(JG) A family member of the “Employers” here was contacted in 2012 about the identity of the young lady on the right. She surmised that she was probably someone’s daughter. Her personal response was very much from the author’s point of view and included:
When I was in my 20’s I was in North Carolina driving behind an old Model-T pick up truck. It had a bumper sticker on the truck that said, “We should’a picked our own damn cotton!” That pretty much sealed the deal for me as to why things went down for black people the way they did.
Set in Mississippi during the 1960s, Skeeter (Stone) is a southern society girl who returns from college determined to become a writer, but turns her friends’ lives — and a Mississippi town — upside down when she decides to interview the black women who have spent their lives taking care of prominent southern families. (Walt Disney Pictures)