do you have any book recommendations? i'm going to the library later :)
1984 by George Orwell
Traveling to Infinity by Jane Hawking
The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde
Macbeth by William Shakespeare
Stardust by Neil Gaiman
The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath
The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien
Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury
Room by Emma Donoghue
Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert
Alan Turing: The Enigma by Andrew Hodges
thinks she’s being arrested for littering when she is actually being mistaken for a
red-haired jewel thief.
(Theodore J. Mooney), Mary
Jane Croft (Mary
(Mr. Cheever) does not appear in this episode.
Finch) appeared as himself (playing a giant native) in “Desert
Island” (ILL S6;E8). He
is perhaps best remembered for playing Sheriff Lobo in “B.J. And
the Bear” (1978-79) and its sequel “The Misadventures of Sheriff
Lobo” (1979-81). Akins died in 1994.
(Hard Head Hogan) appeared on Broadway in the 1930s and was a
Ziegfeld girl. In Hollywood she did more than 160 films. This is
her only appearance with Lucille Ball.
Peters, above left) started playing policemen on TV in 1950 and continued to do
so for much of his career. This is his only appearance with Lucille
(Officer Miller, above right) started his screen acting career in 1956. His final
credit was playing Nemo for seven episodes of “Everybody Loves
Raymond” in 1999. He died the following year. This is his only
appearance with Lucille Ball.
Trindle is the proprietor of the jewelry store that was robbed.
aka “Tinkerbell”) had appeared with Lucille Ball and Gale Gordon
on the 1952 special “Stars in the Eye” celebrating the opening of
CBS’s new Television City studios. She will also appear in two
episodes of “Here’s Lucy,” in one of which she also plays a
passersby, the other women in the line-up, and the actual red haired
jewel thief (above) are all uncredited. Interestingly, Hazel Pierce, who was
Lucy’s stand-in and frequent day player, is not in this episode.
public domain video releases title this episode “A Case of
The episode was filmed January 6, 1967, the first to be filmed after
was the first and only episode written by Alan
It was also his first script for television. He went on to write
for “Maude” (1972-74) and one of Lucille Ball’s favorite sitcoms
“Three’s Company” (1977-78). Levitt shows a firm grasp of writing
farce, balancing Lucy’s belief that she has been arrested for
littering, with the audience’s knowledge that she is believed to be a
jewel thief, using cleverly worded dialogue that allows both Lucy and
police to have a conversation without giving away the misconception.
Jane tells Lucy that littering is against the “Keep America
Beautiful” Campaign. Keep
America Beautiful was
founded in 1953 by a consortium of nonprofit organizations,
government agencies, concerned individuals, and American businesses
(including original “I Love Lucy” sponsor Philip
Keep America Beautiful joined with the Ad
1961 to dramatize the idea that every individual must help protect
against the effects litter has on the environment. These included
popular 1963 television campaign “Every Litter Bit Hurts”
and the character Susan Spotless in 1964. The organization is still
order not to implicate her friend, Lucy tells the policemen that Mary
Jane is the name of her cat. She says she likes to call the cat up
and say “What’s
was the name of a hit film of 1965 written by Woody Allen. Its title
song was nominated for an Oscar and was a big hit for Tom Jones.
thrown in the cell with a growling Hard Head, Lucy says she doesn’t
feel very welcome. The Matron remarks that “You’re
as welcome as the flowers in May.” “Welcome
as the Flowers in May”
a song written by Anne Young round 1903.
to be tough, Lucy tells Hard Head Hogan her ‘handle’ is “Steel
Knuckles Carmichael” but her friends call her “Knuck.” Hogan
continually gets the name wrong, calling her ‘Muck’ and ‘Cluck.’
Trindle can’t positively identify the jewel thief in a line up of red
headed women. He says he didn’t anticipate so many red heads. Lt.
Finch replies “What
did you figure on? A bunch of Yul Brynners?”
was an actor known for his bald head. He was mentioned on “I Love
Lucy” several times, generally comparing him with Fred, who was
nearly bald himself. At the time of filming, Brynner had just been
seen in The
Return of the Magnificent Seven,
a sequel to 1960’s hit The
in which he also appeared.
says the women in the line up would make Ma Barker look like a camp
fire girl. This is the second episode in a row to mention Ma Barker.
was the mother of several criminals who ran the Barker gang. She
traveled with her sons during their criminal careers. Barker was also
mentioned in “Lucy
and the Great Bank Robbery” (S3;E5).
Barker was parodied as Ma Parker in a 1970 episode of “Here’s
the action late in the episode to vouch for Lucy, Gale Gordon gets a
smattering of entrance applause from the studio audience.
Carter goes to prison in a 1973 episode of “Here’s Lucy” that
also features Gale Gordon and Jody Gilbert as the Matron. This time
her cellmate is Mumsie Westcott played by Elsa Lanchester, who may
(or may not) have been criminal hatchet murderess Eleanor Holmby when
Lucy and Ethel go “Off to Florida” (ILL S6;E6).
“Lucy Meets the Law” rates 4 Paper Hearts out of 5
“The bill at Juilliard was a performance of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” featuring words, of course, by William Shakespeare, and music by Felix Mendelssohn. Bathed in blue light and sharing the stage at the Peter Jay Sharp Theater were conductor Alan Gilbert, the Julliard Orchestra, the Brooklyn Youth Chorus and Juilliard grads Gabriel Ebert (“Matilda”) and Phillipa Soo (“Hamilton”)
Ms. Soo, as the fairy queen Titania, read the words “Hand in hand with fairy grace/We will sing and bless this place.” That was the evening in a nutshell, encapsulating the desire to preserve, uphold and support this young community of artists, with the money raised going to student scholarships.”
Adam Lambert // Adam Leber // Adam Levin // Akiva Schaeffer // Alan Gilbert // Alanis Morisette // Alex Pall // Alicia Keys // Andrew Bird // Andy Samberg // Angel Coleman // Avery Lipman // Barbra Streisand // Beck // Bill Kreutzman // Billy Joel // Bo Koster // Bob Weir // Bonnie Raitt // Boyd Muir // Brad Delson // Bradford Cobb // Brandon Creed // Brendon Urie // Britney Spears // Butch Walker // Calvin Harris // Cam // Cameron Strong // Carl Broemel // Carole King // Casey Harris // Charlie Puth // Charlie Walk // Cher // Chester Bennington // Christina Aguilera // Christina Perri // Conan O'Brien // Courtney Love // Craig Kallman // Cindy Lauper // Dan McCarroll // Daniel Ek // Daniel Glass // Danny Bennett // Demi Lovato // Diplo // Doug Morris // Drew Taggart // Eddie Vedder // Elle King // Ellen Degeneres // Elvis Costello // Emily Robinson // Eric Hutchinson // Fher Olvera // Glenn Kotche // Gregory Porter // Halsey // Iggy Pop // Irving Azoff // Jack Antonoff // Jackson Browne // James Corden // Jason Kupperman // Jason Mraz // Jay Marziano // Jean-Michel Jarre // Jeff Ament // Jeff Chimenti // Jeff Tweedy // Jeffrey Harleston // Jennifer Lopez // Jeremy Zimmer // Jim James // Joan Jett // Jody Gerson // Joe Hahn // Joe Jonas // John Esposito // Joe Janick // John Mellencamp // Jorge Hernandez // Josh Groban // Julia Michaels // Julia Greenwald // Justin Tranter // K. D. Lang // Kaskade // Katy Perry // Kelly Rowland // Kesha // Kevin Liles // Kid Cudi // L. A. Reid // Lady Gaga // Lerace // Lee Daniels // Lin-Manuel Miranda // Sir Lucian Grainge // Lyor Cohen // Macklemore // Marc Geiger // Mark Pinkus // Mark Ronson // Martie Maguire // Martin Bandied // Martin Erlichman // Martin Kirkup // Matisyahu // Matt Cameron // Meghan Trainor // Melissa Etheridge // Michael Bublé // Michael Rapino // Michael Stripe // Michele Anthony // Michelle Jubelirer // Mickey Hart // Mikael Jorgenson // Mike Caren // Mike D // Mike Dungan // Mike McCready // Mike Shinoda // Monte Lipman // Natalie Maines // Nate Reuss // Nick Jonas // Nicky Jam // Pasquale Rotella // Pat Monahan // Pat Sansone // Patrick Hallahan // Paul McCartney // Pete Wentz // Peter Edge // Peter Tork // Phil McIntyre // Prince Royce // Pusha T // Questlove // Ricky Martin // Ringo Starr // Rivers Cuomo // Rob Bourdon // Rob Light // Rob Thomas // Roger Gold // Rosanne Cash // Rufus Wainwright // Russel Simmons // Ryan Leslie // Ryan Lewis // Sam Gores // Sam Harris // Sara Bareilles // Scooter Braun // Scott Borchetta // Selena Gomez // Shakira // Sia // Stephen Cooper Steve Barnett // Steve Bartels // Steve Jensen // Steve Levin // Stevie Knicks // Sting // Stone Gossard // Stu Bergen // Talib Kweli // Terence Blanchard // Thom Yorke // Todd Moscowitz // Tom Blankenship // Tom Corson // Tom Windish // Tony Bennett // Tori Amos // Trent Reznor // Troye Sivan // Vic Mensa // Wayne Coyne // Yoko Ono // Zayn Malik
‘Adagio for Strings’ for Orlando Victims Last Night
The New York Philharmonic dedicated the June 15, 2016 concert, which opened the Concerts in the Parks, Presented by Didi and Oscar Schafer, to the victims of the recent tragedy in Orlando and their families. In addition to addresses from the stage, the free concert opened with a performance of Barber’s “Adagio for Strings,” conducted by Music Director Alan Gilbert, in tribute to the victims.
This evening (because evidently I have finally made the crossover to snooty-elitist-sophisticated New Yorker) I attended the New York Philharmonic at Lincoln Center. I am currently enrolled in a Music of New York class and we are focusing on the composer Gustav Mahler, whose 9th symphony was to be performed tonight. I am a film major and I am used to learning and creating visually, so the experience of going to the symphony, where the stimulation was to be entirely auditory was to be a new experience for me. I also understood the prestige of Lincoln Center and the proper etiquette that would be required at the symphony so I made sure to dress up and look like a well adjusted classy young gentleman when I showed up to the venue.
Lincoln Center did not disappoint, it was a grand venue with all the classy, sophisticated trappings such as $4 bottles of water and tuxedoed ushers that make you know you’re somebody when you walk through.
As we took our seats for the start of the show (can you call a symphony a show? A concert? I really have no idea) and the lights went down, the smooth, calming voice of Alec Baldwin came over the speakers and reminded us all to please turn our cell phones off “out of respect for the musicians and your fellow audience members.” I reached into my pocket and turned my phone to silent. Then, in a rare moment of paranoid OCD, I checked that it was on vibrate about 5 separate times over the next few minutes. Had this been a movie, this would have been what we in the film business would call “foreshadowing.”
The symphony began under the expert direction of conductor Alan Gilbert and soon I was caught up in the music, marveling at how engaged I was in spite of the fact that there was nothing to see and not even tangible lyrics to hear, but my experience as a film person experiencing the symphony is a topic for another post. This post is about what happened towards the end of the performance…
In the last movement, right as the piece was building to its big finish, somewhere, in the left front area of the auditorium, someone’s iphone began to go off. Alec Baldwin had asked us so nicely to turn them off and yet someone had not heeded his call! Some terrible soul had forgotten and was now disturbing the performance! Luckily, the music was building and so the ringer was drowned out by the instruments. I think we all hoped that the call would end and that would be the end of it. Oddly enough though, the ringer persisted, consistently for a good 5 or so minutes. Every so often, Alan Gilbert would give the slightest glance in the direction of the ringer as he conducted.
Another few minutes passed and still the ringer persisted, we were getting to a point in the piece where it was very quiet, with only some violins and a few wind instruments playing. It was supposed to be a quiet moment before the big finale and this persistent iphone ring was ruining the entire aesthetic of the piece. Finally, in a move that shocked the whole venue, Gilbert put down his baton and signaled the players to stop. The audience was dead silent for a moment, save of course for the terrible sound of the ringing phone. Then, suddenly there was the sound of a great shifting and rumbling as every single person in the hall reached for their pockets and made sure their phones were off. And still, the phone continued to ring.
“We’ll wait.” Gilbert said, sounding more like a chastising kindergarten teacher than a conductor. Myself and those around me cringed in embarrassment, both for ourselves and the nameless dolt who had forgotten to go to vibrate.
Gilbert continued to stare in the direction of the ringer, that was still ringing!
“Turn off the phone.” He said sternly.
Still the phone continued to ring. How was this even possible?
(My theory is the offending phone’s owner fell asleep during the performance, had set an alarm on his phone and forgotten to turn it off, and left his ringer on, leading to this perfect storm of social elite faux pa)
Whatever the reason, the phone kept on ringing.
This is when things started to get interesting…
“Get out!” came an angry call from one of the balconies. Call is a nice way of putting it, this shout was almost more of a growl than coherent words.
“Shut it off!” Came another voice.
The aggression and anger in the voices of these people was palpable. Soon, a whole chorus of “Turn off the phone!” and “Throw them out!” was rising from around me in the auditorium.
I can’t describe the tension in that room and possibly do it justice, The way the people were shouting made it seem like they were calling for the phone’s owner’s head on a platter. They wanted blood! This crowd of largely elderly, well dressed, seemingly cultured and sophisticated people were shouting and screaming like a group of island natives demanding a sacrifice.
And still the phone kept ringing.
The calls got louder, there was a sense of movement in the sector the phone was coming from. What were those people preparing to do?
And still it kept ringing.
Finally, finally finally, mercifully, it stopped.
“Is it gonna go off again?” Alan Gilbert asked. I guess the answer was no because Gilbert then turned to the rest of us and said “Normally, when such a disturbance comes up during a performance, the thing to do is to ignore it but this was so egregious that I had no choice but to stop. I apologize.”
At this point the place erupted in thunderous, intense, aggressive applause. This ovation was louder than the one when he eventually finished the piece later on. Some people gave a standing ovation.
This got me thinking. Did the crime of the phone going off really match the response it got? Granted, it was annoying and embarrassing for us in the audience and I think Alan Gilbert did the right thing by stopping the show, but I was perplexed at the response of the crowd as a whole.
Whoever had owned the phone had made an honest mistake, one that just about anyone else in the audience could possibly have made, yet here, at Lincoln Center, listening to The Symphony, this violation was enough to draw the ire and ill will of hundreds of people. Sophisticated people who had come for a night of culture and music and proceeded to be reduced, for a few moments, to the early stages of an angry mob.
In the name of keeping with the etiquette of this classy and cultured event, these people got so worked up they were actually shouting, not cursing mind you, for that would be uncultured, but shouting angrily. And when Gilbert finally dealt with the situation, the response was the cathartic release of pent up aggression. Blatant, almost animal aggression, at the symphony, over a ringing phone. Maybe I’m new to the whole symphony culture but to me it seemed a bit much.
I’ve been in shows with talking audience members and other disturbances, I know how obnoxious it can be and how its completely unacceptable to do, it just seemed like the response in this case went so much farther than what was called for. As Gilbert said, it was egregious, but it wasn’t horrific, or say “terrible."
Had this been a comedy sketch or a scene in some surreal movie, I could have seen things playing out with the phone continuing to ring and the well dressed patrons around the iphone owner finally turning on him and going totally primal. They’d attack him brutally, smashing both him and the phone to bits. Gilbert would get in on it, jumping down from the stage and using that sharp baton of his to do god knows what. The iphone owner would be given a "Girl With the Dragon Tattoo” style punishment (for those who haven’t read or seen it, a. you totally should and b, it involves forceful tattooing a descriptive phrase, but I’ll let you figure it out for yourself!) and finally, after the iphone owning pig would be strung up for all to see, the sophisticated folks would readjust their jackets, make themselves look presentable and continue, having saved the symphony from the barbaric savagery of a ringing phone.
Gilbert would fix his hair, wipe some of the blood off his suit and turn to the crowd saying something like “So uncivilized,” would receive a standing ovation and would then continue on with the conclusion of Mahler’s 9th.
Now that’s just the imagined scenario of this film/comedy student. Fortunately things didn’t escalate further than they did but that was only because the phone finally stopped ringing. Who knows what would have happened if it had kept going…
All in all a nice, cultured evening. Great music, intense drama (both musically and otherwise) and some food for thought. What is acceptable to do in the name of keeping things civilized and honoring etiquette? Is it possible to go too far? I think so, and I think the crowd tonight came close.
(Oh, and Mr. Gilbert, I mean no disrespect in my hypothetical scenario, I believe you handled the situation the best way possible and conducted a hell of a show otherwise.)
Never a dull moment, can’t wait ‘til I hit up the ballet and we get a streaker!