Eleanor Divina, Part 3

A Parker Detour's Recollection...

Well, hello—And once again thank you for sharing a few minutes of your time with me.

There are only three actresses that I can admit to having had crushes on when I was a kid

Most of my movie watching stemmed from the libraries of local TV stations. So, my actor demographic was rooted almost entirely in the generational territory of Deborah Kerr, Ingrid Bergman and Eleanor Parker territory. All three covered a wide range and were deft at moving from women stiff and austere to high pitched and wild. They were also every bit as adept in light fare as with heavy-handed melodrama. And truth be told, aspects of all three reminded me of my mother.

Both of my parents were great film fans. My Dad preferred the experience of solo attendance. He never saw going to the movies as a social experience so much as a way of both losing and finding himself inside the dark intensity of a good story line. He was a deeply spiritual man, and included trips to movie temples religiously right through his elder years.

My Mom, on the other hand, loved the company of family, friends and Junior Mints. And, this brings me to one of those parental mysteries that continues to both haunt and define me to this adult day.

One late afternoon the two of us were alone in the house together. Mom was pregnant with my youngest brother, and I remember being unceremoniously whisked into the grey Volkswagen that she’d recently bought and driven to the little movie theatre we had in the center of town to see the new Walt Disney movie, In Search of the Castaways. It was 1962, and I’m guessing I must have been in the first grade.

I should mention that as with so many other children—first borns, especially— I was often innocently employed as a kind of a sound board for a parent’s emotional thought process. But, my mother was strangely silent that night. I was there to share some solace while the Disney adventure played itself out loudly before us. I actually remember the movie being pretty great. It’s unfortunately almost forgotten now—except, of course, for what it sparked and spurred in my own emotional development.

Here are the two chief take aways I was branded with that night.

One was my first sense of some new bonding between my mother and myself—let’s call it my first taste of what I’d eventually define as empathy. A sense I had that night of a kind of helpless feeling my mother was experiencing at that time—something that if I had been an adult might have been defined as a deep rooted melancholy—A feeling I’d eventually come to recognize in myself.

The second take away was something else entirely different. More stimulated and exotic and certainly untenable for a six year old to define. It had to do with my queer response to Hayley Mills’ young leading man in the movie, Michael Anderson, Jr.—something that wouldn’t be heralded in my life for some time to come.

But, I digress...

I hope you’ll return for more childhood crushes—Hollywood style. Apologies for the detour. I promise—this journey’ing vehicle will park once again in the Parker lot next time.

Until then—happy trails.

Stay well

And be engaged.

Bye bye for now.--