I'm watching a 1959-1960 tv series called Lock-Up, which is sold now under the name COPS LOCK-UP, THE ORIGINAL REALITY COP SHOW. It's packaged in two-disc boxed sets by Echo Bridge Home Entertainment (www.echobridgehe.com) under the label Platinum Disc. The show starred Macdonald Carey and John Doucette, and is taken from the files of a corporate attorney (played by Carey) whose sideline was helping innocent people get out of being locked up for crimes they didn't commit. Seventy-eight half-hour black-and-white episodes were made for syndication. It's a very enjoyable program, although it's nothing like a "reality show" of today. It's a fast-paced standard melodrama, well-written and starring some fine actors of the era, some of whom later became bigger stars, like Harry Dean Stanton.

Anyway, one episode on Platinum Disc #36049 is called "Girls Wanted" and guest-stars Barbara Luna, of Star Trek fame, as a maid accused of killing her female employer. It turns out the deceased was involved in a racket which got her maids involved in prostitution.

Barbara Luna was fine in her role, but for me the real star of the episode was the actress who played Macdonald Carey's receptionist, a girl who feels useless only answering phones and longs for excitement. I had never seen this actress before. She was a vivacious blonde with a fantastic smile, gorgeous dimples, bright blue eyes, and a curvy figure in those body-hugging sleeveless dresses gals used to wear a lot back in those days.

I watched the episode twice just to watch this beauty go undercover as a Swedish immigrant looking for work as a maid, so she can infiltrate the prostitution ring. I also watched the episode twice so I could figure out from the end credits who she was. Her name turned out to be Lili Kardell.

I went on the Internet for more info, and it turns out Miss Kardell (1936-1987) was a Swedish actress and concert pianist, daughter of an orchestra conductor, who was also one of James Dean's favorite girlfriends. She apparently once gave Dean an accessory for his sports car as a present! She went along with Dean on the day he entered his first auto race. According to the stuff I found on the Web (not very much, but a few choice tidbits) Dean liked Lili for her free spirit and liberal nature...qualities which were very much in evidence in the role she played on Lock-Up. Her character enjoys her brush with violence and danger in rooting out the bad guys, and at the end of the show she decides to join the police force!

It looked as if Carey and Doucette, both middle-aged men, really enjoyed working with young Lili. There was just something about their banter in various scenes that showed what a pleasure it was to be in her vivacious company. Even the cinematographer seemed to give her some rather lingering closeups!

Lili Kardell was about 24 or 25 when she appeared on Lock-Up, but she must have been 18 or 19 when she was dating James Dean, who died in September 1955. Dean may or may not have been bisexual, but one thing I know for sure after watching Lili Kardell: he sure had great taste in girlfriends!

Later in life, she apparently became an interior decorator and lived in New York. She was only around fifty when she died...but she lives forever in this episode of Lock-Up.

Now Sir Cranky has to find more old shows with Lili Kardell!

I wasn't able to find a link to a good picture of her, but I will keep trying.

I am so relieved. My kid sister Jenny in the Midwest, who has been battling cancer since the spring and underwent a heavy-duty treatment for it in June, just got back from her checkup and called me. The doctor said on a scale of 1-100, she got a 99. It may not even be necessary to do biopsies in September, but just scans. So her recovery seems to be moving along very well. And this is a rare form of cancer, too.

Jenny was tense, although graceful under pressure, for the last week or so; and for me, the tension of worrying about this has been on the back burner of my mind as I tried to be cool and hopeful and supportive. My nervousness instead came out in a feeling of real distraction. I couldn't even get worked up even after a flood in my apartment last week ruined boxes of books and videotapes. I just felt numb in general. But it looks like Jenny's getting better. Nobody's ever totally out of the woods with a thing like this, there have to be regular checkups, but the situation is improving, knock wood.

And I whine about going to the friggin' podiatrist...

A sincere thanks to everybody on the 'Stream who has sent me good wishes and prayers for my sister's health.

Well, I just got back to Manhattan from my freelance gig out in New Jersey. I just stuffed my face with a few chocolate chip cookies, washed them down with ginger ale, and now I'm blogging away...

I picked up a book over the weekend about an old Hollywood film director named Jacques Tourneur. He made a handful of classics such as the film noir Out of the Past and the moody horror tale Cat People. The introduction to the book was written by Martin Scorsese, who is one of the most knowledgeable film lovers around in addition to being a world-class director. Scorsese writes about his enjoyment of Tourneur's films and makes me want to run out and get copies of all the now-obscure items that Tourneur made. I've seen a number of Tourneur movies, but nowhere near all that he did. Scorsese makes even the most obscure Western sound like a cinematic sundae with extra cherries on top.

Years ago I watched Scorsese's three-part documentary about American films and it was revelatory to me not only in the points he made about directorial technique, but just in how well Scorsese communicates his love for films. I thought, "Now here's a guy I'd like to talk with about movies over a bottle or two of good wine." I know a lot of obscure stuff myself, and I think I could hold my own with him as well as savor his vast knowledge. I can't remember the name of that documentary, but I don't think it's been released to DVD yet. I saw it on tape.

After I got out of college, my ambition was to get into the film industry myself and eventually write and direct. I got sidetracked from these goals, although as I've written here before I have had some fringe dealings with the film world. When I hear or read something by Scorsese about cinema, I feel again that same passion for it that I had in my twenties. Actually, that passion has never left me; it's just that when I get all fired up about movies, it's hard to concentrate on my usual day-to-day stuff, so I keep a lid on it for the sake of, well, having an orderly life and being able to pay my bills!

When I was in college in the early 70s I made a few short films and it was very absorbing. Directing the actors and setting up the camera was fun, but what I liked most was editing the film. I never worked so hard or so long on anything in my life. I sat in the editing room for twelve to sixteen hours straight. But it's easy to be a workaholic genius when your parents are paying for your education. When I got out into the world and had to make my own living, filmmaking fell by the wayside as I struggled to make a buck in Manhattan with a liberal arts degree that didn't open any doors. Even if it would have, I might have had problems finding the doors...I wasn't much of a hustler, and an ability to hustle was and always has been a requirement in the film business.

Well, I have a camcorder now and have been trying to learn how to use it. Maybe just for fun I'll get my friends to play some roles and star for me in a short epic. With all the tips I've picked up from listening to Martin Scorsese, it might just turn out okay!

On my post yesterday about taking a long stroll in downtown Manhattan, I forgot to mention that I saw a very convincing Marilyn Monroe lookalike walking a little bulldog in the East Village near Astor Place. Apparently, Saturday (August 5) was the 44th anniversary of Marilyn's death, and that may have had something to do with this sighting. The girl was blond like Marilyn, had a nice bosom, and was wearing the same type of white dress made famous by MM in The Seven Year Itch. The only unfortunate detail was that this Marilyn clone was wearing...FLIP FLOPS!! True, the thongs showed off her red-polished toenails, but still, if you're going to evoke a famous outfit, especially on the anniversary of the superstar’s demise, wear similar shoes, which were strappy white slingback heels fer cryin’ out loud!!

Oh well. I have to admit, the girl WAS cute--although her throaty voice, which I heard as she spoke to a friend, was not very Marilynesque. Nonetheless, I envied her little bulldog the company of his mistress!

Surprise, surprise! The scaffolding is coming down from around the building in which I live after only a few weeks. Considering that the last scaffolding stayed up for two or three YEARS, blocking my view of the street, to say that I am relieved is an understatement! By late afternoon, my apartment was full of sunshine again!

Well, I did a lot of work today and then went downtown to buy a new pair of jeans; and the resumption of the heat and humidity seems to have taken the wind out of my sails. I feel unusually sleepy, despite the fact that I took a short nap an hour ago before I went to pick up my laundry from the wash-and-fold. Tomorrow I’m commuting out to my main freelance client’s office in New Jersey, so maybe I’ll just take it easy for the rest of the night. My mind feels strangely depleted...oh well, I guess that happens sometimes. Despite my frequent protestations to the contrary, I’m only human.

Yesterday I hopped the M20 bus on Broadway in Times Square and rode it all the way downtown to Battery Park City and the Hudson River Park. For the two-buck fare you get to traverse half the island of Manhattan and end up in one of the nicest spots in town. The only downside is that this is near the site of the fallen World Trade Center, and you can't help but get melancholy when you view that. Still, the park itself has a fantastic view of the water, you can see the Statue of Liberty in the distance, and there are ferries and water-taxis and private boats too. Hudson River Park has well-kept grounds and people sunbathe or sit on the benches. Families bicycling by, joggers running, a few Rollerbladers but not that many. I forgot to bring a baseball cap and I got a bit of a sunburn on my dome, but other than that it was relaxing to be near the river glittering under the bright blue sky, especially after days of broiling heat. I did try to sit in the shade, and found one good spot near a small artificial waterfall. Falling water is such a soothing sound to me.

I was carrying a history of organized crime, Murder Inc., in my bag in case I got bored and needed something to read, but it was really too beautiful to stick my nose in the pages.

After spending awhile near the water I started walking uptown. I passed the Woolworth Building which in the early 20th century was the tallest structure in the city. It's still a very impressive sight, far more elaborately decorated than modern skyscrapers, which adds to its grandeur. I'm always looking up at buildings, they're the only competition to beautiful women for my restless eyes on the streets of Manhattan. In fact, I don't understand why people don't stop and stare at buildings as I do, that's one of the pleasures of this town.

In the course of my walk I inadvertently passed a restaurant that my erstwhile favorite stripper, Lily, told me she'd once gone to. It was on a quiet sidestreet, one of those narrow lanes with which downtown Manhattan is dotted. The restaurant had a large banner which attracted my attention. I went up to the window and looked at its very impressive array of reviews from various magazines. One prestigious periodical said the restaurant had one of the greatest wine lists in the world. I looked at the menu and noted that the dish Lily told me she'd ordered was the most expensive listed. As I stood on the empty and shady street, which is bordered by tall buildings that gave the space a cavernous feeling, I imagined Lily going into this restaurant all dolled up for a big evening, and felt acutely how disappointed I was that I'd never gotten a chance to take her to dinner myself. I haven't thought much about her lately, but seeing this two-story restaurant, closed on a Saturday afternoon, made me remember how much I'd enjoyed hanging out with her and how I'd hoped, against all common sense really, that I could have extended our acquaintance outside the stripclub. As it is, I haven't seen her since she went on vacation in early spring, which is around the time I stopped going to that particular club. She may be back working, but I simply haven't had the money to really enjoy myself with her there as I used to, buying her drinks and getting lapdances, so for the time being I've avoided it. Maybe at some point I'll stop in again. Still, one of the last times I saw her, I gave her my email address at her request; but since I've never heard from her, I imagine she couldn't care less about whether I return or not.

I continued on my walk and thought I'd check to see how one of the last inexpensive and funky topless bars in Manhattan was doing. I thought if it was open on a Saturday afternoon, I'd stop in for a quick drink, but when I got to the corner of White St. and Church I discovered that the Baby Doll Lounge was no longer there, replaced instead by a ritzy Italian restaurant. The last time I was there was two or three years ago on my birthday, hanging out with my friend Rexx who'd never been there before but found its true dive bar atmosphere a fun change of pace from the more expensive strip joints uptown.

Farewell, Baby Doll.

I kept walking, continuing on my way past the street vendors and browsing throngs on Broadway. I stopped to check out the flea market that I recalled having been at Grand and Broadway, but it was no longer there either; replaced by a remarkably ugly-looking apartment building under construction that naturally advertised itself with typical real estate ballyhoo as the very creme-de-la-creme of new residences in the chic Soho area. A block away I found, instead of a flea market, a tent-enclosed series of souvenir stalls that were stuffy and hot and full of boring knick-knacks and t-shirts and hats and slippers and sunglasses. I walked up to Houston St., where I was tempted to get a ticket to the new French thriller The Bridesmaid, playing at the Angelika, but then I decided it was too nice outside to sit in a dark multiplex.

By the time I got up to Tower Video, my ankles were starting to ache a little; I'd walked quite a long way. I was delighted to find that Something Weird Video had just released a new double-feature burlesque DVD with "Ding-Dong, A Night in the Moulin Rouge" and a second flick, "Merry Maids of the Gay Way." These striptease movies are from 1951 and 1953 respectively, when the word "gay," by the way, still just meant happy. I quickly scooped up the disc and, after a bit of live girl-watching in the dusk at Columbus Circle, started checking it out last night on my DVD player. So far, the still-remembered Jennie Lee and the now-obscure but fetching Pat Flannery are the two stand-out peelers on the disc. There are also a lot of good comedy skits. It occurs to me as I write here now that I like some contemporary Mexican tv shows (as taped off cable for me by my buddy Rexx) because their mix of comedy and pretty girls is distinctly in this old burlesque style.

All in all, a pleasant Saturday in Manhattan. And since the sun is still shining today, I guess I'll hit the bricks for awhile. Enjoy your Sunday.