Where I Went Wrong

There’s the standard “what would you change if you could go back to some point knowing what you know now” kind of thing. On some level, the answer to that is normally “but I wouldn’t want to give up these kids,” who presumably wouldn’t have happened in everything is different land. On the other hand, some different kids got lost in the shuffle that did happen. We just don’t get to know who they are. And the do exist, if you take many worlds quantum theory to be a thing, just with a different you. So don’t cry, Shopgirl. Don’t cry.

That said, and notwithstanding that there are many points where I could make changes happily, large or small, I often feel like I went wrong when I opted for the vocational agriculture program at my high school.

My brother’s first wife suggested it. She had dated boys who were in it, and had an extremely positive impression. Plus farming on some level was in my blood and in my experience. I did a lot of planting, weeding, and picking vegetables. I was around for a lot of cranberry harvests. I loved the growing of flowers, and my grandfather’s little greenhouse.

I had been a top student in chorus, and loved to sing. I’m shy, introverted, vaguely autistic, and terrified of singing in front of others, but I actually could sing. It’s in the blood and the family experience. Naturally I signed up for high school chorus.

We were on double sessions, and that dictated when some of the classes had to be held. It also rendered the two period vocational class a single period for that year. That was the same period as chorus. The school made the logical decision to drop the music and keep the vocational. Would I have done that if, say, at the end of eight grade I had know I could do only one? I don’t know. I might have gone with chorus and academics. It wasn’t a tough sell, making me an aggie, but it was a sell and not something that initiated within me. The best year of the vocational class was that first year. It was basically downhill from there.

If I could go back to eighth grade and the point of making such decisions, there is absolutely no contest in my mind. I would have chosen chorus. What else did I have that year? That would be a one to one trade, so I wouldn’t have to fill two periods. If I did, I might have ended up in one of the history classes I missed.

English, Algebra I, Earth Science, Gym for whatever part of the year that took and study hall the other part… there has to be something else. French! It was my third year of French, though I suspect it wasn’t a prerequisite to have taken the language in 7th and 8th grade. The class was obviously not memorable. I don’t remember it being bad, or especially good. I felt like I wasn’t learning much. When I started German in college six years later, I’d have told you I remembered almost nothing of French. However, I regularly ran into the problem of remembering the French for something instead of the German. But I digress.

I did meet one of my closest friends, Perry, through vocational. By rights he counted for a time as a third “best friend.” My second best friend, Frank, I met earlier that year and have meant to introduce in a post titled something like “My Ornshaw.” My second best friend died several years ago. My first best friend and I may as well be dead to each other, sadly. I am friends with the third one on social media, but he is absent a lot, and is not in the best of health. The first friend, Zack, married the ex-girlfriend, Joan, of the third friend. I was responsible for all of them having met, and particularly so for the union of the first to the girl. Small and convoluted and crazy world. Ditching vocational might have put an end to all that. I might still have met Frank, but with a different dynamic of classes, I might have noticed Ella less and someone else more. Ella helped trigger my befriending Frank, weirdly. There would be a lot of dominoes reversing back to upright in the scenario of no vocational. I can’t say those were bad things that should never have happened, and it’d be weird knowing the difference if I went back. It might be kinder if the terms were to make the decision then forget what came after the first time.

Chorus would have gotten me closer to some of the more academic and more musical kids who in part were already my peeps. I supposed I could have taken it as seriously or casually as I wanted. One concern I have is that I developed a health issue that would have destroyed my ability to sing properly in any reliable way. I still struggle with that, between sensitivity to what I am breathing, and reflux sometimes returning to haunt me.

It would have left me on a more academic track. After ninth, vocational did take 2 periods a day. That took the place of any two other classes, like a history or science or language. I made it worse in 10th grade! I signed up for electronics and the administration didn’t notice or stop me. That was a snootier vocational class that went three years rather than four, but was two periods per day. So four of seven periods in that year were devoted to the two vocational classes. Then it was English, Geometry, and gym. That was why I ended up taking the traditional 10th grade biology in 11th. At least that teacher didn’t hate me as much as the electronics teacher did. I still don’t know why, though it may have had to do with an awareness I didn’t belong in two vocational classes. It was a slap in the face to him when i got the highest grade on the midyear exam. I made a friend in that class who was my introduction to BASIC when he got an early Radio Shack computer. in 1977.

This has gotten long and gone in directions I didn’t intend.

I love to sing. My wife was one of the first people I could sing in front of with little discomfort, and with my kids it was completely natural. Now one of them sings like an angel and writes her own songs. One of them sings competently and taught herself guitar. The other one doesn’t seem interested in singing, but seems to do well on violin in school without bothering to practice, as if he’s just natural at it. I’ve gotten a bit more open about it. I’ve been known to sing along with or in the presence of people at work. A few weeks ago, I sangĀ well the first little bit of Bus Stop by The Hollies for a young coworker who didn’t know the song.

I never wanted to be famous or felt comfortable performing, as my brother did. I’ve actually pondered in years past the idea of vocal lessons. I guess I can see wanting to be famous in that it was a bit of a rush when I was moderately “blog famous” around 2003/2004. When I worked in stores, there was one guy in particular I worked with for a while who, when we were together behind the counter, completed us as something of a comedic duo, entertaining customers. That was fun.

Something I’ve sometimes thought would have been interesting is getting into film. Before there was ever YouTube, and a venue for anyone to do that on some level. There were other reasons I saw a ton of movies circa 1998, but I also could see myself involved in the writing or creation of them. Not something I ever really mention to anyone, or think about actively. I find it hard to imagine acting, though. I am blown away when I see people adopting just the right expression in an artificial situation. I know how much work is involved, rehearsing, directing, doing many takes, getting just the right shots, so maybe you need only capture the right look that one take that’s a keeper. But still. I think I was put off of acting by a tiny play I was involved in during 6th grade. A few people each did a different little story, a series of plays for younger grades. My buddy Paul and I forget who else might have been in ours. It had something to do with picking berries. We laughed uncontrollably through the whole thing, barely able to deliver the lines, and laughed our way off the stage. It may only have been me and Paul, in the actual thing, since he’s the only one I remember. The two of us did much better when we built a telegraph. We both were interested in electricity, electronics and gadgets

So yes, I think I went wrong, not offense to my friends the change would affect, when I opted for the vocational program as I entered high school. I would have a very different life and there would have been more of an academic, professional expectation to pursue and fulfill.

Melody and Religion

After getting hooked on the movie, I looked up the differences between US and UK schools. Remarking about them to my oldest yesterday, she proudly already knew, and refers to her grade level appropriately when communicating with British people. This isn’t the post on that topic, but I also noted that religion was incorporated into the schooling. This wasn’t just a fictional thing. In the making of Melody video, Mark Lester talks about his on set schooling (and they also talk with his tutor) and lists subjects he studies. One of them is scripture.

The headmaster is obviously a religious figure, whether that is normal or not, and the first class you see any of the kids in is one he teaches on religion. It’s meant to be, and is, very funny. It shows how frustrating the kids can be, how impotent or incompetent the teachers can be, and the mischievousness of some of the kids. It’s also one of the points in the movie where I could not make out some of the words, or heard them wrong. I couldn’t distinguish “matzos” and eventually saw what it was online, where someone else asked.

In my case, between the accent and the sound quality of the video, when he spoke in that class I heard “pick up thy beard and walk.” Every time. Since it was completely nonsensical, I actually looked it up and was able to determine it was bed: “pick up thy bed and walk.” Even I not only could gather the biblical context, but also was pretty sure I’d heard it before as a child. I got dragged to church with varying regularity until I rebelled for good at 13. I still love the actual church. An ancestor was the first minister when it was built, my grandfather was sextant and a lay speaker, and the building is striking. I used to help clean it, and mowed the lawn when it had one, and felt reverent toward it. Had crushes on a couple of the girls there, too. One of those let me in free to see ET when she saw me in line for the movie when she worked at the theater years later.

I don’t know if religion is a universal subject in British schools, but both religion and education can be tools of government control of or influence on the population, so putting the two together would make sense from that perspective.

Later there’s an “assembly.” Plot-wise, it is a chance to get Melody and Daniel in the same place at the same time, since they don’t spend time in the same classrooms except by accident, as when he fell in love with her. It helps cement that he is interested, and lets a bunch of the other kids in on what’s happening in the process. Another place where Ornshaw is instrumental. Plus it gives us the lovely picture of her, turned to look across the room, smiling at him, to show while he races and To Love Somebody plays. We don’t see the smile in the footage used in the actual scene. She just looks serious.

In the assembly, the teachers all gather up on the platform in front and the headmaster starts calling kids up for the sorting hat. Wait, wrong movie! And no, that’s not a young Ron Weasley we see ever so briefly at the dance, but it sure could be. The headmaster, once he has silence, has them open their hymnals to a hymn number he can’t remember without his glasses, and starts leading them in song in his lovely voice. James Cossins vies with Roy Kinnear for my favorite adult actor of the film. His name always makes me think of Jamie Cousins, though. She was a girl in my grade. Never knew her, but a friend, more of a friend of a friend who was part of the proverbial gang, had a huge crush on her.

I finally got around to looking up the hymn they sing. I may well have heard it in church in my youth, but I’d never remember that. I’d caught enough of the words, even beyond the first three in triplicate, to find it easily. The song is Holy, Holy, Holy. Logically enough. It’s about the trinity, thus the triplicate holy.

Turns out it’s used for Trinity Sunday. What the heck is that? Now I know that’s the first Sunday after Pentecost. But what the heck is that? That’s the fiftieth day after the resurrection. It’s observed seven weeks after Easter, so it also moves, and that means Trinity Sunday moves.

All of which goes back to my looking at the timeline of the film. Not that the hymn couldn’t be used any time of the year, and not that the assembly is on a Sunday, but given the time of year the film obviously occurs, they would have to be near Trinity Sunday at the time. In 1970, the year Melody was Filmed, Trinity Sunday was May 23. In 1971, the year of release, it was June 6.

I previously surmised the assembly to have been on a Thursday. I might have expected it to be a Friday or Monday, if adhering to a weekday near the Sunday being observed, but this might all be nothing. It could simply be that they periodically have whole school or whole grade level assemblies that incorporate religion and/or other purposes. Still, the film is basically May/June. That’s when a lot of filming fell, when they are in the school year, etc. Someone could have been thinking it through in that much detail, or it could simply have been a famous and somewhat catchy hymn to employ. Given that nothing seems accidental in this film, though I might question some details or have done them differently, I lean toward it being intentional.

The only other things we see of religion are Daniel’s parents and their friends making fun of the devout, at least the Catholic ones, and Ornshaw stumbling over and skipping the finer details of the marriage rites in a prayer book.

Zap!

There’s an almost indescribable experience that I have been party to justĀ three four times that I can remember. It’s memorable, so I would expect to remember them all. There’s fuzziness between these and falling in love at proverbial first sight, but clearly they aren’t necessarily the same.

This is seeing someone across a room or whatever separates you, and it’s completely electric. Jolting. Perhaps exhilarating. Perhaps disturbing. Perhaps confusing.

The first was with my big high school crush, call her Ella. Not my only or even my first crush in high school, but the most significant unless you count the significance of a girl we’ll call Daphne, who left me believing no girl could ever want me.

Except the zap moment was later. I forget exactly the year, but it was either toward the tail end of high school, or after high school. While I didn’t lose absolutely all interest until three years after high school, when I ran into her and we talked at length just before I started college later than the rest of my age cohort, the main even was 9th and into 10th grade. My brother, by comparison, still dwells on a girl from 8th grade, fifty years ago. She’ll always be a part of my personal history and memories, but we wouldn’t actually have been suited for each other. I’ve been in touch with her sister in the past couple years, expressing condolences after their awesome mother died, but I haven’t seen or talked to her since 1982 as far as I can remember.

Ella was working in a department store, the only one of its name and kind, rather than part of a chain. I had no idea of this when I walked in. I set foot in the door and our eyes met across the distance between the door and the checkout she was manning. It was absolutely electric and I was floored. It was as if the intervening years had never happened. If I’d never seen her before, I’d call it a love at first sight moment, but I knew exactly who she was and was a bit uncomfortable. It was obviously a mutual thing.

The second instance, if it counts, is the one I’d somehow forgotten that led to the strikethrough at the beginning. Call her Tammy. Summer of 1983, between first and second years of college, I was floating around a chain of stores as a temporary assistant manager, covering vacations. First or second day at one store, she walked out of the back room and toward the front. Zap! Not sure there was an mutual there, but for me it was the love at first sight zap. She was one of the sweetest people you could ever meet. She was athletic and was going to college in Maine when she wasn’t home for the summer. We talked a lot and she was a great employee, but I just couldn’t bring myself to ask her out. I had the impression she might already have had someone, but it wasn’t clear.

It was during that interlude that a girl I’d met at a different store earlier in the summer also landed at that store for some hours and made a different impression on me. At the first store, she acted weirdly like “don’t you dare be interested in me!” Not a problem, since I wasn’t, even a little, even though she was objectively attractive. She’s how I first heard of Def Leppard. She was going to a concert one night after work and I had never heard of the band, which was huge then. That girl ended up acting miffed, obviously enough so that even I noticed, that I was not acting interested in her. She was the cause of my forever associating a particular Def Leppard song with Tammy, and to a lesser degree with her. (Naturally I started hearing Def Leppard songs after that, after never having heard one before.)

Flash forward just a little and it’s New Year’s Eve, on the cusp on 1985. I had landed in a specific store as a regular cast member, so to speak. Someone who worked in a completely different store, call her Layla, lived near my store and would come in there sometimes. While I’d never noticed her, she’d noticed me. This is something I think about when I wonder how many girls there were over the decades who might have been interested but gone utterly undetected by me, with or without effort on their part. She started conversing with me when she came in, and even helped free with a lottery crunch one night when I shouldn’t have been alone at all, let alone in the face of a then huge jackpot. Made me nervous to have someone who didn’t work in the store behind the counter, even just feeding cards into the lottery machine, so after a while she left, but that made her more of a presence. We became friendly in a talking and talking about everything way, but it never registered to me that she was or that I ought to be attracted. Indeed, the downfall would arguably that I was not, but I wasn’t exactly dating anyone else.

She invited me to a New Year’s party at a relative’s summer house way out on the Cape. I agreed. I wasn’t a real party person, but hey. We had Chinese on the way. Yum! Everyone but me at the party was a girl. She was the only one I knew, though I would see some of them again.

We had not been there long, hanging in the kitchen initially after bringing in the Chinese leftovers.

A girl walked into the kitchen. ZAP! Never experienced anything like it. Not even any other zap moment. I’d call it chemistry at first sight, more than love at first sight. She was a short-haired blond girl we’ll call Beth. Turned out she went to my college. This was a mutual zap, though not sure what she made of it or how she internalized it.

That made the rest of the evening completely surreal, since all I really wanted to do was be with Beth. Alone. I was with Layla and completely focused on Beth. I managed to irritate Beth because when she told me where she lived at the school, in a rental house, between ambient noise and her accent, I couldn’t parse the name of the road and had her repeat it a time or two. She was from a rich town on the North Shore, which must have given her just enough of a different accent to trip me up.

Although I could easily have ensured nothing else ever transpired between me a Layla after the one date, we did kind of date for a while. It was never properly consummated and was doomed by my relative lack of attraction to her, but she was a decent person. It was on her account that I’ve ever been to New York City. Good memories.

She also marked a point where I rebelled against my programming. Daphne had conditioned me not to be wanted. Just because a girl was on a date with me didn’t mean it was acceptable to, say, put an arm around her when the moment was right, or kiss her, or think that sex might be a possibility.

Prior to Layla, I had hung out with a girl we’ll call Maddie, from some of my college classes. We essentially went on three dates, after drifting inexorably together in the face of her initial reluctance despite being interested. I was reluctant, and it helped doom things, because I didn’t perceive her as intelligent enough. That was part of the meet cute, or what helped get us together: Her need for help in accounting. For me it was the easy first semester of many accounting classes. For her it was the first of two required semesters for folks who weren’t in that major, and was a dire struggle. So I tutored her.

Maddie wasn’t beautiful, perhaps, but she was cute as a button in a way, and was very much attracted to her, yet always dubious. It was the perfect storm of someone I could be friendly and easy with, and someone attractive to me.

Our last date was when I drove north of the city, to where she lived, to go out for her birthday during the summer. Her family was at a cabin in New Hampshire, and she was staying with her grandmother, as I recall. We’d have had the house entirely to ourselves for whatever we wanted to do, but I was a little slow and she had been dealing with a crying grandmother before she came to meet me, convinced her little girl was going to lose her innocence or something. I later realized that that was exactly what Maddie wanted out of the relationship, but wasn’t aggressive enough to ensure in the face of my denseness and Daphne’s damage.

We went to a tourist place in Salem, on the water. At one point, we sat on a bench looking out at the water. It was just a few minutes. I had the powerful urge to put my arm around her, as would be logical in that situation. Daphne popped into my mind with a proxy “no, don’t touch me” and I Just Couldn’t Do It. That intercession in my head was a turning point. From there, I convinced myself I wasn’t interested in Maddie, she wasn’t smart enough or good enough for me. I could do better.

It was the regret from that when I was with Layla that countered Daphne’s influence, even though I just wasn’t that interested in Layla except perhaps as a matter of opportunism.

The next zap I witnessed took ages to arrive. It was at a workplace. A new, young manager arrived. We had never met. I was in a room for a meeting. She walked by the room, met my eyes through the window of the door, and did a double-take. I have never seen anyone react to me that way. The closest might be Beth, but that was more proximate and mutual chemistry. This was more like watching someone fall for me at first sight, or at least find me more attractive than I’ve ever been. It’s all the more fascinating because we aren’t and perhaps never had been on the same proverbial team. I have never stopped being intrigued, and will never forget it. I could be misinterpreting entirely what it was about, but there was massive surprise in the reaction, whatever the case.

Speaking of looks, I have most always been convinced, to one degree or another, that I was completely unattractive, even ugly. Girls fought to sit with me on the bus in kindergarten when I was a cute little blond boy, but that was about the end of it. Once in a great while I get some input to the contrary. I’m long since biased enough that it takes essentially no data to convince me the negative direction, and endless data to budge me in the positive direction. I’m like that in other things. Any negative is absolute truth and set in stone. Any positive is unbelievable.

The most recent particularly compelling positive came when my oldest friend, Julie, and her older sister, had an 80th birthday party for their mother. My mother and sister also went. When I walked in, both Julie and her sister, having not seen me in decades, with no stake in doing so, said ‘WOW!” in reaction to my appearance. Good wow, not bad wow. In my favor, I am relatively well preserved, and my hair may not have been overdue for cutting at the time. But I am still overweight. I was persuaded when I was a kid, and was actually not that heavy, that my weight was a huge personal failing entirely my responsibility and rendering me unacceptably ugly. Daphne indirectly contributed to my internalizing that outlook. When, during college, I lost so much weight that I started to look anorexic, I remained convinced I was too heavy and, even if not, unattractive. That almost anorexic weight was almost a hundred pounds below where I am now, which really is 30+ pounds too high.

Anyway, I digress again. This is why verbosity was my reputation and ended up in my blog name. Believe it or not, when i started typing, I chose this topic because it was a brief post. Ha! Shows what i know.

Long Long Time

I have always loved this song, from the time it was relatively new and I was young. For all she did later, it and Different Drum define Linda Ronstadt for me. But it makes me feel remorse, based on my interpretation of what it is about.

This is the lament of a woman scorned. Worse, not really acknowledged, by a man so cold or indifferent that he either never noticed her interest, or didn’t care enough to do anything with it if he did. Further, he has made a habit of this, breaking hearts along the road of oblivious omission.

I am kind of getting into personal things I’ve yet to post, or that I might have posted a long time ago in a different blogosphere. (It’s a travesty that blogosphere just got flagged as not a word by automatic spell check.) I have had crushes, been outright in love with, or passingly noticed many girls or women over the decades, not so much recently. I have despaired of their general lack of interest in me, but to the degree that I was addicted to the feeling of being in love without being willing or able to bring it to fruition, this served my purposes. If it was what i was seeing, good. If I could make myself perceive it as what I was seeing, that worked too.

Yes, autistic tendencies. Yes, it may be that that’s about feeling too deeply rather than being insensitive, with the coping making it appear the same. Yes, I am oblivious to subtlety, or don’t believe it, or at times have found it convenient not to believe it. Girls aren’t supposed to be forward or aggressive, doncha know. Still, eventually I realized that I had left some disappointment in my wake. Heck, long ago. Introspection in the past few years, after I killed an old friendship beyond recovery (or at least buried it beyond exhumation), made me think more about many things like this.

Sometimes being shy is just being shy, and being anxiety-ridden is just anxiety beyond escape. But sometimes I had some idea, or should have, what I was doing. Sometimes it felt like revenge on all girls for what one girl did at a sensitive age.

I have seen that a girl seemed interested and been completely inert to it, or falsely oblivious. I once called a girl in college, after she’d been in a class with me, chatted at some length, and despite being able to tell she was receptive, copped out and… did nothing. I’d have had a date, if I’d have known how to ask. I could tell she was disappointed. I still feel bad about it, and she was just a minor crush. My main college crush got left in the lurch once my interest was clear and she was receptive. I just… stopped. It was pretty crazy.

My big high school crush had much the same experience. I essentially ran away in confusion once she clearly and unambiguously reciprocated and I had no idea what next. Ouch. I could go on.

Much as I love the song and feel for the sentiment, it makes me sad for anyone, known and unknown, I ever might have hurt by running away, being indifferent, or not even noticing.

 

Storytelling

One of the things I wanted to write about in regard to Melody and myself involves the skill involved in the storytelling – the presentation and progression involved in showing what needs to be shown, without starving or overfeeding the audience. We get a wonderful, thought provoking, moving story without being left short and wanting more, beyond a modicum of curiosity or blanks we might like but needn’t have filled. Much is shown, not stated in dialog, enhanced with setting sequences to songs. I was sure this would be a huge post, so I have hesitated to start. Perhaps I can start, get as far as I get, then complete the thoughts in subsequent post(s) if needed.

I started writing a book a couple years ago, finally bringing together some ideas and things niggling at my mind for many years as to setting and such. I ended up drifting away from it, partly because I got busier, partly because writing is hard, and partly because loss of focus, direction, or inspiration can derail you for a time or a lifetime. Melody, specifically the way the story was presented, has helped inspire me. Along with that, I’ve had some additional ideas, and may be ready to try again. As I wrote, it was already visual and film-like, to me. Not hard, being inspired by my childhood, where I grew up, and my kids.

Needless to say, anything that goes into this kind of detail about the movie will spoil it if you haven’t seen it.

First, the setting is established while a Bee Gees song that had been unfamiliar to me plays. Completely suitable, though, since it talks about morning, ends in evening, and how it’s the morning of his life. It is the morning of the lives of the children involved, and the introductory song seems to touch on a dreamy relationship at the end of the song. It has a childlike innocence and magic, and urges patience. This fits with details much later in the film, but could have helped inspire it:

building castles in the shifting sands
in a world that no one understands

I probably had heard and dismissed the song years ago, but I love it now. It means so much.

You see the area where to story will take place from the air, and then you meet Daniel and Ornshaw as they participate in Boy’s Brigade. Ornshaw first, in fact, then Daniel held up as a comparison. We get an idea that Daniel’s mother is obnoxious and snobby. We get an idea of Ornshaw’s situation and see Daniel’s home life. Even his father makes fun of his mother’s antics.

Daniel seems sweet and innocent, but lights his father’s newspaper on fire by way of acting out. The song we hear playing on the radio is the same one the kids will dance to days later, a nice touch.

Then we meet Melody, the title character, to instrumental strains of her theme song, as the rag man arrives out front and she looks wistfully at what’s in his cart for trade. This introductory part does the job of portraying a more childlike side she is perhaps already losing. It also, in a more subtle way than Danny’s acting out, shows the anarchic nature of children when she takes clothing from the house to trade for things.

Back with Daniel, we learn he is talented at painting, but his mother objects to his moving to painting nudes and having something that someone gave him at school to show what they look like, She subtly destroys his painting and diverts him with the model rocket his father had broken, while she takes the material showing topless women. Thus we learn he’s good at painting and building models, and cement that she’s a lousy parent, not very nice at heart.

Back to Melody, we establish that she plays the recorder, which she’s doing in the bathroom to her mother’s annoyance. It appears that her mother and grandmother might not know she had traded clothing for a goldfish. The pinwheel is a symbolic connection to childhood. Sent to find her dad at the pub and get money for ice cream (we never see ice cream until she is with Daniel at the seaside, intentional resonance or not), she takes her newly acquired goldfish for a walk. During this part, Melody Fair by the Bee Gees plays, and it’s essentially a music video for the song. She doesn’t go find her father at first, but lets the fish go for a swim in a metropolitan water trough, still in the same spot at Lambeth and Kensington Roads almost fifty years later, but as a planter.

After catching the fish back into its jar, she heads to the pub, which is also still there. She looks through the windows, and into the door as an entering customer holds it open, but waits outside, looking worried. I had the impression kids weren’t allowed in. Her dad steps out, drink in hand, no indication how he ever knew she was there. we see her show the fish and presumably explain her mission, and he gives her money and tousles her head. She may make fun of him spending all his time in the pub later, and may glare at him repeatedly as only a girl that age can, but they obviously adore each other. She walks off. We segue into a scene of mayhem as kids race through an overgrown cemetery to school.

The initial introduction of the main two characters, and to a lesser extent the tertiary main character, are basically complete and now we set the stage with the school and surroundings that will play a big role. There’s an extended crowd scene of kids doing as much mischief as they can manage on the way to class. We meet the headmaster and get a humorous introduction to both the lame instruction and the challenge the kids can be.

That segues into kids going to morning recess, or break. The play games, fight, hang out and talk, one of them smokes, and we get to meet some of the supporting cast of friends. We see Melody in the context of a big group of friends, including the one who has kissed boys and is most advanced. Very much 5th grade as would have been familiar to me in 1971/1972. All the girls laugh when Muriel says she never used to kiss boys because she thought kissing would bring babies.

We move to history class with Daniel and Ornshaw, with more humor about the teaching. Ornshaw asks a valid question, showing how smart he actually is, but gets treated as cheeky and stupid.

After school, some boys go out by railroad tracks while one of them tries his latest attempt at a homemade explosive. Daniel follows. He’s apparently new and has no friends in the school yet. They tell him to go away, but Ornshaw defends him and he joins in. Bomb is a dud and they go to the bus stop. First bus leaves without most of the kids, then Ornshaw and Daniel establish their friendship by going out on the town, to Trafalgar Square, running around and goofing off to Give Your Best to Your Friends. This parallels a similar, later sequence when he is with Melody.

When Ornshaw needs to get home, Daniel freaks him out by getting a taxi, because money. This is one of many ways in which class distinctions are established.

We find that Ornshaw takes care of his grandfather and will have hell to pay if he doesn’t get home now. Daniel volunteers his mother to come help them out, as she does social welfare volunteer work.

That ends the beginning part of the film, where the basics are established. Melody and Daniel haven’t met yet. Daniel and Ornshaw had immediately become besties. This makes Melody displacing Ornshaw possible, because it will put Melody into Daniel’s life. At least, sooner rather than later. Same school, same year, they could have met eventually.

Now, my story started with minimal setup, then action, of sorts. That could work, but now I am thinking that maybe the kids should be better introduced. In writing it can be explained, but if it were on screen, there would have to be establishing scenes that show in a wider way where they are, who they are, why they are there, and how they reach the scenario where the action starts. I figured out how I can make this happen and give what comes next a more logical basis to boot. Since I was thinking about the story and the pacing as a result of this, I also solidified how to deal with one of my concerns about the later sequences. For that matter, they are not the only character and scenario to be introduced. That one was actually going to have more of an introduction, but I see how I can improve it, and perhaps that will unstick me on that part. I hadn’t even been able to begin writing it, and had written the character starting from the point where he meets the other three.

This observation is more about the storytelling subsequently in the film, but I was struck by the use of vignettes separated in time, sometimes ambiguously so, and by what was left out because every little thing need not be told or shown. It might not affect my writing, but I also observed just how much can be conveyed by minimal action. Tiny bits of dialog. Expressions, looks. Tracy Hyde was a master of that. It’s a wonder she didn’t have more of an acting career, but perhaps that’s a reflection of how poorly Melody did at the box office, and how long it languished before getting a DVD release in 2010.

I may break down the rest of the story later. I also need to talk about my Melody-like experiences, and about the mechanics of production. Having been there for one long day of shooting footage with a bunch of kids, I can imagine how grueling it was. All the more so after hearing the description of the whole day of shooting it took just for the obnoxious dinner party, and the large number of takes it took of the scene in the headmaster’s office, where the director thought he’d never get Mark Lester riled up enough to express Daniel’s anger.

It’s a Square Dance On the Floor

Something I noticed, as soon as I realized that they didn’t use the original introductory portion of the Bee Gees song Give Your Best in the Melody movie. It starts with “I’m just a clown…” in the film. Where it is used to good effect as musical illustration for Daniel spending time cavorting with Ornshaw, then again to emphasize the parallels when Daniel is skipping school with Melody.

The first couple lines are:

It’s a square dance Mr Marshall. It’s a square dance on the floor.
It’s a square dance Mr Perkins. It’s a square dance to be sure, to be sure.

Perkins.

I can’t help wondering if that inspired Melody’s surname, Perkins.

Chicane She Came

There’s no work due to icy conditions, so I should be back in bed long since. I didn’t want to wake up in the first place. Instead, I am thinking about songs.

Melody is based loosely on the songs Melody Fair and First of May, two old favorites of mine. I never thought of writing a story based on them per se, but to me the latter, in particular, told a story. It was bare bones yet evocative. I could imagine young love, much as depicted in the movie or perhaps a wee bit older. I could imagine the years going by and either wistfully remembering that, having drifted or been driven apart yet still loving each other on some level, or the years going by and the relationship growing mundane while still ultimately being in love and remembering that first day. You can be “old misery” and still remember what it was like, still love each other, even if you don’t always act the part.

Melody Fair is one of my misheard lyric songs, due to the muddled, drawn out way they sing the word woman. Still, hooker was a strange thing to hear. I figured it out quickly, but sheesh.

She’s a pretty girl who perhaps doesn’t think she is, doesn’t try hard to be, and feels down. Cheer up, make an effort, be the pretty girl you are, have a better life.

Many years ago, I did have a rough story idea inspired by or vaguely based upon what one might expand the ELO songs Strange Magic and Can’t Get It Out of My Head to depict in your mind. Those are two of my favorites. I also love Mr. Blue Sky, but it actually goes best with the entire side of Out of the Blue that it ends, collectively known as Concerto for a Rainy Day. That whole side is itself a story of hopelessness, depression, feeling suicidal, then coming out of it. I always associate it with an old friend who loved it and went through that suite of feelings in the first three songs when he had a broken back I always felt responsible for and guilty about.

My story idea would have been science fiction or fantasy. While not fleshed out and not thought about much in years, it probably would have involved time travel in some manner, our world ending, and a literal stone age dawn.

Thinking about this today, I remembered being told vehemently by someone, I remember it as my older brother but am not certain, that it was “walking on a wave’s chicane” dammit, not “walking on a wave she came.” Apparently the lyrics with the album used chicane, but people have attested to hearing it clearly from Jeff Lynne as she came. There doesn’t seem to be a definition of chicane that means a wave’s foamy crest. It seems weird that you would ascribe an intentional S curve not dictated by natural features to a wave. In either case, it is obvious this woman, whatever she is, appears to be walking on the crest of a wave. She also flies, which could explain how she could stay on top of the wave when she’s not flying so high. Unless high is a state rather than a position.

Melody Timeline

This may be too ambitious. I may need to save a draft and come back, but hey.

As I may have touched on lightly before, I am intrigued by the timeline of the events that are and are not depicted in the film Melody. Not like I haven’t spoiled away without mentioning it before, but this is going to cover pretty much the entire film’s events. You can watch it free on YouTube, in some quality. I am going to get the DVD when and if I can manage it. I expect that to be a revelation, between the sound and picture quality and the viewing size.

First the three main characters are introduced. It isn’t a school day, which suggests perhaps a Saturday. I have other things to say about this sequence, but that’s a whole post.

It’s clearly not winter, or even the near outskirts of winter, even such as it might be in London, at any time. We are not seeing an entire school year, nor are we seeing the beginning of the school year. The kids in their level are clearly established and comfortable in their school. My understanding of the education system there would make it their first year in that school, with the first five years, equivalent to kindergarten through 4th grade, having been elsewhere.

The film having been written around First of May by the Bee Gees suggests that we could interpret the timing in general to have been around that part of the year, with the first itself maybe having been a significant date. I’d propose it to be the date they hung out after school and she took him home for tea, or else the date he fell in love with her when seeing her in dance class.

We have the introduction, which sparks the friendship with Ornshaw and gives us an idea what the three of them are like.

Then there’s a day when Daniel and Ornshaw hang out after school and we learn more about everyone, between that and scenes in school. Interestingly, we see that up until that afternoon, Daniel really isn’t in with, buddies with, the other boys in the school, almost as if he’s a newcomer.

The third day depicted is when Daniel sees and falls in love with Melody, then follows her after school, and finally shows up at Ornshaw’s humble abode to help with housekeeping.

Next day depicted we see an assembly. Ornshaw creates a whisper brigade when he sees Daniel staring at Melody, resulting in her looking back.

The following scene could be the same day, or a different one. I choose to call it a different day. Daniel drags his cello to the music room, finds her waiting to have a lesson or whatever, and plays a duet with her on recorder after her friend Rhoda gets called in by the teacher.

Still on the same day, in the evening, we see Daniel suffering a dinner party with his parents and their friends. We see Melody watching TV while eating dinner with her mother and grandmother. It turns out she forgot to pick up her pink dress at the cleaners. She blames it on the man in the raincoat at the cemetery, leading to an exchange in which we see that she is a smart-ass, and that she obviously likes Daniel a lot. We never see a scene like even a more subdued view of what she leads them on with, and it may or may not be based on anything at all.

Next day, the lunch scene. After he’s done reminding us he played Oliver, Daniel tries to sit with Melody in the cafeteria. She doesn’t say no, but just says her friend Maureen usually sits there. It’s possible she might have made room, but Ornshaw retrieves him and lots of kids laugh. She stares a little at Daniel across the room afterward, and makes a rude face at Ornshaw.

Then there’s a monthly dance. This strikes me as a Saturday thing, or a Friday thing. Kids have come to it in street clothes, rather than what they’d be expected to wear to school. It can’t be the same day as the lunch scene. She’s dancing enticingly. Daniel is hanging with Ornshaw and a bunch of other boys, mostly making fun of the dance. Daniel gets Ornshaw to go out on the floor and offer to dance with Melody’s friend Peggy while he dances with Melody, if they’re willing. It’s going great until Peggy revolts, insults Ornshaw’s dancing, and he kicks her. Afterward, still daytime, the boys gather to see the latest homemade explosive tested. Melody puts on makeup in the bathroom until her mother calls her for tea and she wipes it off, looking alarmed and sad.

The next scene is athletics day, what we might call field day in my neck of the woods. And if that works the same, it’s right at the end of the school year, in the last weeks, if not days. I hadn’t thought of that aspect of the possible timing before. This is when they make unimaginably perfect use of the song To Love Somebody.

This segues into a new school day in which Daniel and Ornshaw get in trouble with the Latin teacher and have to go after school for a paddling. Afterward, Melody is waiting and despite her not saying a word and Ornshaw’s best efforts, Daniel goes with her. Cue the song that is their theme: First of May. This is the big day when they are officially together, such as it is at 11. They hang out all afternoon. She points out that if he’s been going around telling everyone he loves her, why not tell her. Then she reads a gravestone where the wife died after 50 years of happy marriage, and the husband followed her after only 2 months. This becomes perhaps the most famous dialog of the film. She asks if he’ll love her that long. He says yes. She doubts. He says “I’ve loved you for a whole week already, haven’t i?” They smile about it. They go to her flat. She opens the door, steps in, and when he hesitates, she pulls her in by his school tie. Too funny! They have tea with her family and she glares at her father a lot, as only a girl around that age can.

The “loved you a week already line” is a clue that it’s been a week since the day he fell, which definitely means my thinking later about two things being the same day would be right.

The state of vegetation at this point, visible particularly in the cemetery, would indicate it’s pretty late in spring or getting into summer. British school goes much longer than in the US, so near the end of the school year would actually be in July. That would make this not May 1st, and would mean substantial time had already passed if the meet cute happened on May 1st. Probably that’s a red herring, an artifact of the song used in and toward the concept for the movie. Conversely, filming could simply have gone on long enough for me to think it’s later in the year than is being depicted. We know filming was taking place in and around May 1970, since Tracy Hyde turned 11 on the set in May. I don’t know when it started or just how long it took. They used the large number of child extras for mob scenes early and then moved on to scenes with fewer people.

The next day that is shown is the day the two of them skip school and go to the amusement park and seaside on a train. There is no way they planned that and did it the very next day. I just don’t buy it. Sure, it’s possible, but they’d effectively just gotten together. There’s a clue later that there are days of life before that we don’t see because you don’t show every detail of everything on film.

The next day, beyond a doubt the actual next day, is when they face the headmaster’s wrath for skipping school. Now, they tell him they want to get married. Well, Daniel does, and she looks startled. Somehow, when they each get to class, the classmates know or extrapolate their desire to marry. They have a very bad day. This leads to the famously heartbreaking scene of them sitting in the cemetery in the rain, her head on his shoulders, him holding his satchel over their heads to try to keep some of the rain off. That day ends with her sad, frustrated parents not doing a good job with why she can’t get married and what maybe should actually happen next. Her father makes it clear that Daniel has come home for tea with her a number of times, and they really like him. That points to some number of days and amount of time spent hanging out together that we don’t see on screen. Daniel is in bed, fidgeting thoughtfully. I have to write about the differences between the respective parents and families sometime.

Finally, the last day shown also seems like one that might not have been planned until later, so might not be the very next day. All the more so because of the reaction the classmates initially had toward them wanting to be married. Now the classmates are helping, even if some are still amused or think it’s a lark. It seems like the rebellion had to have taken some planning. However, this might have been possible earlier in the school day and during break, since the kids actually left school during morning break and didn’t return. I am inclined to place this the very next day, but would believe it if I were told it was later.

So how many days were we shown? Let’s see…

We are shown 12 days for sure, if I counted right scrolling through the above, and we can add in a pair of Sundays, for 14 days.

If they go consecutively to that point, Friday is the duet, unless it’s on the same day as the assembly. It could be. She and Rhoda seem like they might be talking about Daniel staring at her. If that’s Friday, we skip a weekend until the next school day, and the lunch scene can’t be until Monday. If not, lunch scene could be Friday. If we’re going for the most compact timeline possible, that’s Friday and the dance is Saturday, so something happened 6 days that week, 1 day the prior week, and we’ve covered two Sundays.

That makes athletics day the Monday after the dance. I am taking that to be a standalone day, devoted to that stuff.

Tuesday would be the big day when they get together officially and have tea with her family. We are shown him going to tea then. It is implied by her father that he went to tea some number of times afterward. That’s the black box. All that came before could be back to back, but there’s the implication that there’s a gap before the next day we are shown, or her father phrases poorly. Since he fumbles for words in other ways, that’s possible. Daniel having loved her a week already, if he’s being exact, measures from the Tuesday before, which would indeed have been the day it happened. That’s a straight shot of consecutive days, and makes sense to me based on the extent to which I have been there in my youth.

On some subsequent day, not likely the next one, the kids skip school for the seaside. If it’s consecutive, then it’s Wednesday., day 12. Definitely the next day after that is the bad day of fallout, day 13, a Thursday. If it’s all consecutive, without those extra days of the relationship building and taking him home for tea, the final day is Friday, day 14. If I figured it right.

I’m figuring life happens, and it needed some build to get from the establishment of the relationship to the day at the seaside, so it could have been as long as weeks before then, but afterward the whole thing wraps quickly. The timeframe from meeting the characters to the end is probably not much more than a month, even if it’s more than 14 days.

All of this really makes me want to post a commentary about the parents. It’s late for bed, so not now. I thought this would be quicker, but I got too descriptive. There was a reason for the blog name, way back in the day. I’ll have to review this tomorrow and edit if I typed anything wrong or goofed in other ways.

Magic Ponytail

Yes, Melody again. I have things to say about what I call the “meet cute” scene, but I just watched closely enough to be sure the filming goof I that had left me confused before was indeed a goof.

I’ll cover the thoughts and feels, too. That is exactly how it happens. As much as other scenes and uses of songs grabbed me, this scene was the epitome of being young and falling in love “at first sight” with a young lady. Maybe she’s been in your school and maybe you’ve seen her before, or maybe not, but then it hits you. The world stops and there is nothing else.

Daniel’s friend Ornshaw grabs Daniel and another boy as they are about to head up another flight of stairs, pulling them to the window of a door to a room where dance instruction of some girls is happening. Ornshaw is facially jeering and laughing at the girls, and perhaps the adults, and gets the others in on it, if not as derisively. Daniel is as fascinated as amused in the first place, then he sees her. Musical notes of their theme, First of May, slow and wistful, can be heard. Melody is dancing, tossing her hair as she spins and looks upward in slo-mo, somewhere beyond fetching.

Now he has only eyes for her, and he certainly isn’t laughing. Then there a bang, Ornshaw looks startled, and the teacher opens the door to pull them in and punish them by making them dance ballet along with the girls.

Daniel actually makes an effort, trying to keep his eyes on Melody the whole time. She notices and smiles at him twice. The next scene is after school, all the kids thundering out the doors and taking off for whatever they get up to on the run home, while he ducks aside to a drinking fountain to watch for her to come out the door. Then he follows, gets caught watching her and some friends gathered in the overgrown cemetery, and heads away while her friends laugh and she looks thoughtful. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

One resonance for me is that there’s a dance connection with my first crush from fourth grade. To be visited later, but aspects of Daniel and Melody remind me of aspects of that first crush, my second really major crush, the most significant one of high school, in ninth grade, and a girl from my second year of college, eight years later.

Back to the movie goof. We see melody with completely loose hair as he sees and falls in love with her. (This is a key point when I look at the timetable of the film events.) Then we see her with her hair tied back in a ponytail, with a blue ribbon or bow. Depending on shot or angle, she is back and forth from being one way or the other and ends up mostly in the ponytail. This is a filming discontinuity, where she was one way for some takes and the other way for other takes. They were put together without concern for the difference. Not important, but I noticed.

I just love that part. I love lots of parts. It’s the initial turning point in the relationship between Ornshaw and Daniel, highlighted in the earlier part of the film. Ornshaw triggers the fact that a girl would come between them, yet continues to facilitate.

Melodye and a Dog Named Boo

Funny thing with the Melody movie discovery is that I have a story of my own involving that name and with a connection to 1971, but the name was spelled Melodye. I never knew the name until my recounting the story on Facebook led someone to goad me into researching.

However you spell it, in retrospect it’s a great name and I could easily have used it for my daughter. I’d long since realized the same about Molly. But that’s neither here nor there.

When I was a kid, on the green in the town of East Bridgewater would be free concerts on the gazebo/bandstand. I’d go sometimes, usually with my grandparents, sometimes with additional family. A local country group called The Chisholm Brothers played more than once. While I was never a big country fan, it was fun, especially since my grandfather had taught one of the guys to play harmonica and got pointed out in the audience one time.

In 1971, Lobo released Me and You and a Dog Named Boo. I loved that song from the first, and still do. It’s hard to resist singing along. That’s the 1971 connection, but I have no idea what year we are in at the concert. I can guess. Obviously the earliest it could be is sometime 1971, if the song was released early enough int he year to be a hit before those summer concerts. No way, even if I didn’t know I was older than ten. (This all brings to mind another topic: music and my life. Note to self…)

It wasn’t 1974. I wasn’t that old. Thus it was 1972 or 1973. I believe it was the former, because the following summer I’d have been focused on hanging with my friend and would have been less likely to have stayed with my grandparents a lot. 1972 Put me at 11, and a sensitive age. I was in chorus and loved to sing, but was terrified of singing alone in front of others. Though that is its own story and had more of a basis than mere shyness or anxiety.

So here are these guys, performing at this little concert on the green, and they put the daughter of one of them up to try her hand at singing for us. She was older than me. Three years older, I now know, and that would have been my guess. I was 11, she was 14, and she sang Me and You and a Dog Named Boo beautifully. I was smitten. Obviously it was one of those transient things, if you don’t count that I never forgot it, and never forgot how it felt to be instantly taken with her. Not to mention admiring her voice, her nerve getting up there and performing as I was sure I would never be able to dare, her choice of song, and the fact she did it so well.

I kind of miss the mystery. Having searched starting with little but her surname, now I know she was Melodye Chisholm, now Bushkin. I also learned that I knew her aunt’s family when I was younger. Apart from having attended my childhood church – her father still does, so I could have found out a lot of this just by asking my sister the right questions – her cousin was a good friend of my cousin, and we spent a fair amount of time hanging out when I was around my late teens and maybe into my twenties. Small world.

So there’s my Melodye story inspired by my attention having been drawn my Melody.

Bring Back That Loving Feeling

People who know me are aware of my weakness for romantic comedies and, to a lesser degree, romances or those elements in things not otherwise of that genre.

Since we had marital problems, I developed a jaded view of such things. Not that I get to many movies anyway, and Meg Ryan’s heyday is long past. It got to where I couldn’t bear to watch something like that. I was inert in the face of sweet romance depictions, and cold to the idea of watching any.

This may even go back as far as the point when I gave up and stopped having serial crushes and being addicted to the feeling of being in love. After my final crush, still a friend, but then so are my first crushes, at least in Facebook terms of friends, I gave up. I didn’t expect ever to have anyone interested in me. I had all but never dated. I had never had someone I’d really have called a girlfriend, though a couple of them probably qualified briefly. I never learned what you do when you’re interested, and I was always too interested. I’d become convinced over the years that nobody could possibly want me, even thought there were elements both of self-fulfilling prophecy keeping me safely distant and my relatively autistic traits involved there.

Meeting the wife wasn’t especially romantic, though I tried to make it as much so as possible. It was an intellectual and philosophical match, long distance, helped by her boldness. Perhaps that was why our story, meeting and marrying through blogging, wasn’t as appealing as it could have been. Another blog friend was always surprised it hadn’t been picked up by the press or turned into some kind of a story somehow. It certainly isn’t romantic now, even though there might be love there, and a strong bond that makes it hard to imagine growing old apart. Older, at this point. Heh.

Still, the real distaste for the genre was worse in the past several years, and extended to the idea I simply couldn’t ever love romantically again, or have those feelings even in theory. On some level, because I never had a reciprocated romantic love, I have never learned how that works in practice. With something of an open relationship, in theory, she has told me now and then that I should meet someone, and it should be easy. I reject that out of hand because I just don’t know how. Despite having married and bred, I still find it hard to believe anyone could want me. Maybe more so, after things went sideways. I still, at my age, have trouble perceiving women as being either asexual, unromantic (men are definitely the more romantic gender, as far as I can tell), or worse. It remains a surprise to me when I see signs to the contrary, and I tend to discount anything that counters an opinion I formed early and often.

But I digress, it would seem. I popped back in to post this right after the Melody post because it was going to be quick and not take me away from other things for long.

I may have understated how long ago I discovered Melody. It might have been, say, a year ago. I pecked at it and thought it was cute in the bits I watched, but I didn’t see enough of it to get the whole story. Now I am in love with it. I think this relates to my recent thaw in attitude toward the genre, if not idea it could ever, or could ever have, happened to me. I always loved romantic songs, but have been much more into them recently, really feeling it. That movie and remembering back through my life, forlorn as it was in many ways, has only enhanced it.

I feel better knowing that one of my favorite types of films will no longer seem offputting to me. It comes along with a hopeful, optimistic attitude. That’s always better.

Discovering Melody

I love the Bee Gees. I have since I was a kid and they were still producing their early, pre-disco hits. Before my record collection got destroyed, dating to before CDs were big, I owned most Bee Gees albums and had heard songs dating back to the earliest days of singles only, found on collections later. I saw them in concert on August 28, 1979 and it was amazing, though I was sad that some of the favorite older songs were done as a medley. This sets up how I came to be playing videos of Bee Gees songs on YouTube. I still do that sometimes, even with music I own. Early in our marriage, the wife gave me a four CD Bee Gees anthology. She tolerates them, unlike her distaste for The Carpenters.

Recently I discovered that favorites of mine, less mainstream than some even among their older hits, had videos associated with scenes from a movie. Heck, it wasn’t even that recently, but it was recently I went back and watched the movie in full. Repeatedly.

The movie is Melody, released in 1971, just before I turned ten. It didn’t do well in the US, and I never saw it back then. It was popular in Japan and a few other places, which is perhaps the only reason it’s not even more obscure. Besides the Bee Gees connection and two of the kids in it being famed child stars of the time. They had rights to several Bee Gees songs, so the writer incorporated Melody Fair and First of May into the plot. It would be easy to assume the songs were written for the film, but they predated it. It also makes perfect use of To Love Somebody, which may be my favorite Bee Gees song of all.

I have so much to say about or inspired by it, this is going to end up being a whole series of posts. I just created a subcategory for the film under the movies category. It dredged so many memories and feelings. It has also been a study in making a good movie and telling a story. Had I seen it at the time, and no been inexplicably bored or sleepwalking through it, it would have been formative. While this isn’t the topic I intended to explore in this post, the year it came out I was one year younger than the age depicted of two of the main characters, who in real life were also that age during filming a year before. That is, Tracy Hyde and Mark Lester are is two years my senior. Correction: mark Lester is three years my senior. She turned 11 while they were filming, April 1970. He was already 11, turning 12 in July 1970. The other primary actor was already about 17, but looked young. I interpret him to be slightly older than them, but in the same grade level in school. That was the late Jack Wild.

At the time when the movie released, I was experiencing my first crush, in fourth grade. I was completely clueless, except it felt amazing. I didn’t really understand what I was feeling. Seeing such a thing shown in a movie would have been interesting, especially given Melody’s somewhat resemblance to the girl in question. I never knew her name! It was pure chance that I learned several years ago her name is Cheryl.

One of the first things I wanted to write about after seeing the movie was the ending. Now, if you don’t want to be spoiled, even though it’s coming up on 50 years old, go search on YouTube and watch it: Melody movie. Some are better than others in picture quality, but some have unsychronized sound that can drive you crazy.

At the end, there is a revolt of the classes the star characters are in. Melody and Daniel are in love and want to get married, because isn’t that what you do to be together all the time? Sweet and innocent, and not taken well by the adults and, initially, classmates. You go from scenes of heartbreak to what appears to be the next day – timeline of the thing is another post – when they are just getting married. Daniel’s annoying mom finds a note he left saying they are eloping, freaks out, contacts the headmaster, and when he finds the kids never showed back up after morning break, the chase begins. The ending is entertaining, but in some ways feels disconnected from what precedes it. And yet, how do you end a film in which 11 year old fifth graders, were they American, are in such serious puppy love that they want to marry and can’t understand why they can’t, with too much they don’t yet know. I remember how love felt then, and I don’t recall any barking. If it were me and someone reciprocated, I might not have been thinking in terms of marriage, but I would have understood exactly how the characters felt.

The headmaster and bunch of teachers, plus Daniel’s mother, drive off to where they’ve learned the kids are. The kid who has been trying to make a successful homemade explosive during the course of the film was the only one to stay behind. He runs off to warn the others and reaches them just ahead of the adults. Being a fan of The Princess Bride, I can’t help thinking “man and wife, say man and wife” when they are interrupted right after they give the “I will” responses to the friend who is officiating.

Of course, this is not a real marriage, and they are being kids. The sheer level of panic strikes me as uncalled for. It wouldn’t be as exciting an ending, though, if the kids did the ceremony, went back to class, and everyone carried on. Prior to the elopement note, you never see Daniel’s parents being aware of Melody, even after the day the two kids skipped school to go to the seacoast. Whereas Daniel meets her parents and they like him a lot.

While the other kids give the adults a hard time about being captured, Daniel and Melody run off to escape, aided by Ornshaw, Daniel’s ne’er do well friend who figures so heavily into the story, including provoking the “meet cute” scene where Daniel falls at proverbial first sight. Eventually they get on a trolley on the rails – one of those little flat carts you propel by pumping two ends of a handle up and down. So it ends with Daniel and Melody riding off into the distance on an partly overgrown track.

My thought: Now what?

Seriously, I couldn’t help thinking what happens next.

Besides Melody and Daniel, now “married,” heading off, the chase of the kids ended when the kid who’d been unsuccessful with improvised explosives manages to blow up Daniel’s mother’s fancy car. Class issues in the film are another topic. And there’s good reason that one of the categories the movie falls under is black comedy. The teachers run off. The kids cheer and dance around. Mom looks lost and bewildered.

Is there anyone who won’t face consequences? What happens.

First, where are Daniel and Melody going to go? What are they going to do? Unless it turns into fantasy, like a fan thing I saw where they’re suddenly at Hogwart’s and people are wondering how 11 year olds can say they are married, the answer is home. They go home. And they go to school. And they continue to hang out together as much as possible. Which they could have done without the whole marriage notion.

If you extrapolate from First of May, they are in love while others are being kids, but it doesn’t last. Or if it does, when they are sufficiently older, they have lost their romantic feelings for each other. I know someone who set her sights on marrying a classmate when we were in third grade. Third! They recently moved to Maine, and have a bunch of grandchildren. The long term isn’t impossible.

The mom has to get home and explain to her husband what happened to the car. When Daniel does go home, they won’t exactly be happy, unless they are willing and able to shrug it off and move on.

Melody will arguably be in the least trouble at home. Her family are as supportive as they know how, a loving, lower class family rather than distant or absent. Her family isn’t involved in the ending at all, and would not be in a panic the way Daniel’s mother was.

The teachers and headmaster have to slink back to the school with proverbial egg on their faces. Assuming there are no authorities that give them trouble, the best thing they could probably do is carry on teaching as if nothing ever happened.

The rest of the kids are going to have to return to school later if not that day. They’re going to be seeing and dealing with those horrible teachers again. That could be bad, unless everyone just pretends nothing ever happened.

It’s definitely a fictional ending, because consequences.