It was on this day in 1984 that James Mason, famous and immensely gifted British actor, died. I don’t normally observe such dates so I figure I should start this segment by telling you why I’m doing it, huh?
Truth be told, I had little to write about. But I have a few minutes so, I figured, why not? The problem about what to say… well, that was still a problem. I hit the 60,000 word mark in the new book. I’ve got my first visit with the head shrink next week. Vicky and I have our first “free” weekend in months coming up… but other than that…
So, I decided to look at Wiki and see what had happened today. Maybe, I suspected, some material might be mined in there.
“I’m James Mason!” Tim and I used to do the most horrible James Mason impressions and laugh our heads off. Just the thought of James Mason brings Tim to mind, which sucks because I miss him terribly. My James Mason impression is of the old James Mason, which is strange because when you think of all the big movies he was in – The Verdict, The Boys From Brazil, Heaven Can Wait, Lord Jim – the movie I immediately connect to James Mason is a little picture titled North By Northwest. A movie inspired by this film, Silver Streak, starred Gene Wilder, whose autobiography, Kiss Me Like A Stranger, I am listening to in my car right now. I’m listening to it rather than reading it because Mr. Wilder reads it himself and his voice is wonderful to listen to.
I guess that’s my way of saying that everything gets connected or jumbled up. Anyway, I miss Tim.
… who is James Mason, by the way.
NOTE: And as soon as I wrote this, I thought, "What about Murphy? I miss Tim Murphy, too!" And, of course, that's right. He might not be James Mason but he is The Jacuzzi Kid. So, come on, Tims! Give me a call!