Truth (scratch that), justice (scratch that) and the American way

“Despite George Washington and the cherry tree, we no longer have a society especially consecrated to truth. The culture produces an infinity of TV shows and movies depicting the importance of honesty. But they’re really talking only about the importance of being honest about your feelings. Sharing feelings is not the same thing as telling the truth. We’ve become a country of situationalists.”

Maureen Dowd in a fine column paying tribute to the truth and to David Rosenbaum, recently retired New York Times journalist killed in a robbery this week: “He had a grin that always improved the weather.”

Scared the ***** out of him

A friend reports that a colleague tells the story of a prolonged bout with a kidney stone. It wouldn’t pass and wouldn’t pass, so finally surgery was scheduled.

The night before the operation, the hospital brought in the paperwork for his signature. Reading through it (he’s an attorney) he discovered one problem — wrong kidney. Oops!

The kidney stone passed during the night that night.

Travel Writing from a Shrinking Planet

World Hum is an informative and interesting travel website.

Most travel magazines focus on destinations, offering tips on where to go, where to stay, what to do. We started World Hum in May 2001 because we wanted to focus not on destinations but on the journey, on travel in the broadest sense of the word.

We don’t see travel only as a way to spend a couple weeks’ vacation every year. For us, travel is a way to see the world when we’re abroad, but also a way to see the world when we’re at home. Travel is a state of mind.

NewMexiKen found World Hum through a link to this delightful essay by Rolf Potts, “The Art of Writing a Story About Walking Across Andorra.”

Marilyn and Joe

Joe DiMaggio and Marilyn Monroe were married 52 years ago today. Their famous marriage lasted 286 days.

Their divorce stemmed from the famous scene in The Seven Year Itch where Marilyn’s skirt billows to show her bare legs. As Richard Ben Cramer tells it in Joe DiMaggio: The Hero’s Life:

The scene they went to witness would produce one of the most famous screen images in history—Marilyn Monroe, in simple summer white, standing on a subway grating, cooling herself with the wind from a train below. But what sent Joe DiMaggio into a fury was the scene around the scene. Fans were yelling and shoving at police barricades as the train (actually a wind machine manned beneath the street by the special effects crew) blew Marilyn’s skirt around her ears. Each time it blew, the crowd would yell, “Higher!” “More!” Her legs were bare from her high heels to her thin white panties. Photographers were stretched out on the pavement, with their lenses pointed up at his wife’s crotch, the glare of their flashbulbs clearly outlining the shadow of her pubic hair. “What the hell is going on here?” Joe growled. The director, Billy Wilder, would recall “the look of death” on DiMaggio’s face. Joe turned and bulled his way through the crowd—on his way back to the bar—with the delighted Winchell trotting at his heels.

That night, there was a famous fight in Marilyn and Joe’s suite on the eleventh floor of the St. Regis. It was famous because none of the guests on that floor could sleep. And famous because Natasha Lytess was so alarmed by Marilyn’s cries that she went next door to intervene. (Joe answered the door, and told her to get lost.) It was famous because the following morning Marilyn told her hairdresser and wardrobe mistress that she had screamed for them in the night. (“Her husband got very, very mad with her, and he beat her up a little bit,” said the hairdresser, Gladys Whitten. “It was on her shoulders, but we covered it up, you know.”) And famous because Milton Greene’s wife, Amy, came to visit at the suite the following day (to try on Marilyn’s mink), and was appalled to see bruises all over her friend’s back.

And that fight would stay famous—as the end of Joe and Marilyn’s famous marriage.

Years later, Marilyn would tell another hairdresser, Sidney Guilaroff, that she’d warned Joe clearly the first time he beat her up. “Don’t ever do that again. I was abused as a child, and I’m not going to stand for it.” But, as Guilaroff would write in his memoir:

“Nevertheless, after watching her film a sexy scene for Seven Year Itch, Marilyn said, ‘Joe slapped me around the hotel room until I screamed, “That’s it!” You know, Sidney, the first time a man beats you up, it makes you angry. When it happens a second time you have to be crazy to stay. So I left him.’ ”

She would file for divorce in Los Angeles, three weeks later.

By 1961 according to Cramer, after Monroe’s marriage to Arthur Miller had ended, she and DiMaggio had reconciled — the Kennedys notwithstanding. By 1962 they planned to re-marry. The wedding was set for Wednesday, August 8, 1962. Very private, very hush-hush.

Five days before the wedding date, on Saturday night, August 3, Marilyn died, a presumed suicide. (According to Cramer no coroner’s inquest was held.) Marilyn Monroe’s funeral was August 8, 1962.

DiMaggio died in 1999.

222 years ago today

The Continental Congress ratified the Treaty of Paris on January 14, 1784, officially establishing the United States as in independent and sovereign nation. The Continental Congress approved preliminary articles of peace on April 15, 1783. The treaty, signed in Paris on September 3, 1783, required Congress to return the ratified document to England within six months.

Although scheduled to convene at the Maryland State House in November, as late as January 12 only seven of the thirteen states had legal representatives at the ratifying convention. Operating under the weak Articles of Confederation, Congress lacked power to enforce attendance at the convention. With the journey to England requiring approximately two months, time was running short.

Delegates continued to trickle in. Connecticut representatives presented their credentials to Congress on January 13, leaving the convention one delegate shy of the quorum. Richard Beresford of South Carolina left his sickbed in Philadelphia for Annapolis, and, after his arrival, the vote was taken.

The Treaty of Paris granted the United States territory as far west as the Mississippi River, but reserved Canada to Great Britain. Fisheries in Newfoundland remained available to Americans and navigation of the Mississippi River was open to both parties.

Today in History: Library of Congress