Doris Day died
today. She lived a long, sometimes difficult but interesting life. Her
name Day was a metaphor, I think, for the cultural light she reflected.
I remember her well. No matter
the age those who have defined an era are particularly hard to see leave
us.
Sometimes I wish I could return to that innocent era where a movie
like Pillow Talk with Rock Hudson could be so popular. In our
age of realism
the fact that Rock Hudson was gay could never be hidden and that is a
good thing, however, the innocence that has been lost to a modern era
that has far too much sexual realism, physical brutality and the freedom
to declare the crass speech of hate okay has done something evil to our
culture and coarsened it. Steve Allen entitled his book "Vulgarians at
the Gate" and wrote about it. It allows a
Donald Trump to joke about killing immigrants in the Florida panhandle
with no penalty levied against him for saying it. It was, he claimed, a
joke after all until some sick someone who supports Trump chooses to
think that a very good idea to do.
A
president colors an era. Trump's use of incorrect as well as profane
verbiage defines the ugliness of our present time. There are no limits
to the filth that pours out of
his mouth as well as his emblem of adultery, misogyny and harassment
that has defined his behavior with women. I am sure Doris Day had
something critical to say about
that. I know I do.
