Tag Archives: aging

Labor Day, 1955: Raining on the Picnic, Not the Film

TrainDuet800documnt 48bit dust152Not a drop of rain falls. Even though the river rolling through the peaceful town is muddy, nothing deters the community from celebrating their beloved Labor Day picnic.

This idyllic community celebration is the primary setting of “Picnic,” the 1955 film starring William Holden and Kim Novak, the story of one day in the life of a rural gathering of middle-class folk in mid-America during the mid-twentieth century. The sunny day shines happiness on everyone during the all American holiday, from toddler to great-grandmother.

Enter the drifter, fresh off hitching the rails, and the day begins.

After sowing wild oats for years, the drifter, Hal (William Holden), one-time football player and big shot, says he’s ready to settle down, and this place is it – Small Town America, USA.

Looking for work, he befriends a family and boarders who live in their house. By noon, the entire household has headed down to the huge picnic at river’s edge.

What fun: the 3-Legged Walking Contest, the Pie Eating Contest, the Girl Carrying Contest. A Talent Show, too, not to mention music from Ernie Higgins and the Happiness Boys.

So what’s making young, pretty Madge (Kim Novak) so moody? She has the handsome drifter’s eye, that’s for sure. Better yet, the town’s richest, most eligible bachelor, is after her.

What about her sister, Millie (Susan Strasberg), who’s edginess is obvious with every move? She has a foolish tomboy look no one really pays attention to, but she’s going to college – not Madge.

Is Rosemary (Rosalind Russell), one of the house boarders, angry because she’s an aging, single, schoolteacher when in reality she’s got more life and spunk than twenty others her age?

And why has Hal started to turn after tasting the sweet allure of peaceful small town life?

After all, their Labor Day picnic has everything. The Trained Seal Game, a sort of ring toss contest where women toss rings at the stems of Tootsie Roll Pops protruding from mouths of men on bended knees with hands tied behind their back.

The Needle in a Haystack Contest: boys diving willy-nilly into a huge stack of dusty, dirty hay for nickels, dimes and quarters the older men have thrown in.

The Talent Show, complete with stifled teens singing corny standards and barbershop quartet numbers. Nearby, a cute baby grimaces. Or is it a scoff?

The Balloon Bursting Contest: Which contestant can blow up a balloon to pop first? The long, nerve-wracking tension is broken with a ka-boom, and another baby cries.

But, of course, there’s always the constant upbeat sound of Ernie Higgins and the Happiness Boys lingering in the background.

How could this picnic go so sour?

The entire town bowed to Madge’s beauty. But, from her seat on a rowboat sailing slowly upon the dark water, Madge seemed ashamed by the throng’s gushing, repulsed she’d just been crowned Labor Day Queen of Neewolah (Halloween spelled backward).

The big picnic dance seems transcendent. The handsome, muscular drifter danced so sexually, so comfortably with Madge. Was that what made Rosemary uneasy enough to break up the festivities all by herself?

Even Hal and Madge’s secret, moonlit rendezvous down by the river later is less than romantic, more a moment to exorcise personal fears, flaws and demons to each other. Her pose suggests yearning, yet she changes course, looks off, and says, “But we’ve got to get back to the picnic.”

“Do we?” Hal replies, as a train rambles slowly out of town behind them.

In their own separate ways, in this instant of time, Hal and Madge have realized something. And with it, the dare is on. The train, a vehicle for change, beckons each to go. By stepping up on it, riding the rails, is there life and hope beyond this town?

No, not if they if they’re looking for a better version of it, because there is no town like this. It doesn’t exist. If it did, it would surely be composed of hollow, blind followers.

“Picnic” author William Inge deliberately injects scenes into his story to beg scrutiny about this American utopia. Those boys in the haystack, America’s youth, diving blindly after money. Other youth, bottled up into singing safe and soulless music that won’t offend the elders in control. Men, like trained seals, begging for love as if some game. The gluttony of gorging on food – pie – the all American dessert. Libido should be scorned, pushed out of sight, out of mind. Everyone, everything is under control. When will the balloon finally burst?

Inge saw what many in America couldn’t, wouldn’t or didn’t back in 1955. It makes you wonder what we’re not seeing beneath our very noses today, exactly sixty years later.


For more film articles I’ve written, click the following.

“The Graduate:” https://mikeandberg.com/2014/12/21/graduate-film-college-parents/
“To Kill A Mockingbird:” https://mikeandberg.com/2014/11/02/nostalgia-film-mockingbird/
“American Beauty:” https://mikeandberg.com/2014/09/09/role-models-american-beauty/
The 2015 Oscars (including “Hollywood Express,” my own documentary on Hollywood):




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TV. The Gift That Keeps on Giving. Even at 91.

011A close friend of mine recently lost her husband. He was 91, and she’s 91. Imagine living over six decades with one person. That’s six decades of set routines – suddenly gone.

I want to help her with the big transition period ahead. One change will be her taking over the responsibilities he held in their relationship. For whatever reasons, he paid the bills and did the grocery shopping. Now she has to do them. Picture yourself being 91 and suddenly having crucial things to do you’ve rarely, if ever, done.

Apparently, another thing her husband did was take full responsibility of the TV and the remote control unit (maybe not surprising, but unfortunate).

As I sat in front of the TV set with her, she looked overwhelmed, confused about what the 53 buttons on the remote did. Apparently, her husband never showed her.

“All I know is he watched channel 4, 7 and 13,” she said.

I scrolled quickly through the channels. “Did you know you have 120 channels on your cable subscription?”

“I do?”


“What on Earth is on all those channels? Why are there so many?” (Good question, but I withheld commentary).

“Let’s find out.” (Of course, I already knew most of the channels by heart, but sensed this could be a lot of fun hopping on board her TV excitement bandwagon. Ten years ago, my new and modern TV experience had been sheer ecstasy.)

“Well, did you know Channel 35 is twenty-four hours of weather?”

“Oh – how wonderful. I’ll always want to watch that.”

“But there’s more. Channels 39 through 43 – all movies.”

“You’re kidding. I never knew we had movies on our set.”

“Do you like animals?”

“There’s an animal station?”

“Animal Planet.”

“Oh, oh, let me write that down right … what number is it?”


But when she heard about The Country Music Channel, she nearly danced in her recliner.

At one time not long ago, there were only a few channels to watch. Then, with cable, everybody went ga-ga over the gazillions from which one could choose. But, over the years, we all became disappointed and annoyed how little good quality programming existed on those channels.

May my friend live many more happy days exploring some of the pleasures missed that we’ve experienced – even taken for granted – for years.

And to spouses of all ages – get on the ball – and spread the joy around.


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