Roman Polanski and Other Hollywood-type Scoundrels

Every once in a while I take a stab at making a political statement. I don’t always think ‘politically,’ so it’s not something I am well versed in. But I shall attempt to do so once again.

It’s Back to Business as Usual for Roman Polanski. Back in 1977 he was charged with the rape of a 13-year-old girl, but pled guilty to "unlawful sex with a minor." Then he sneaked out of the country before his sentence could be pronounced. He has had a United States outstanding warrant for arrest since then, and an international arrest warrant since 2005, but eluded capture for over 30 years. Until last year. In September 2009 he was arrested while in Switzerland, and they actually agreed to hold him when the US requested extradition. Earlier this month, the Swiss decided his fate.

Switzerland will not extradite him to the US for his crime many years ago against a young girl. He is a “free man.”

Why should we be shocked? Hollywood (The Film Industry) has always said it was OK to (figuratively and literally) f**k people over, even children. Yet, we continue to support this industry. I mean, if no one went to the movies or bought DVDs, they wouldn’t be in business. But alas, I don’t foresee this happening. We are addicted to our own entertainment. We are! Me, more than most, I think. I saw over 100 movies last year, (most of them borrowed DVDs) and I’m working on coming close to that this year.

But what if, what if, we had the huevos to boycott the movies!! What if we said, “Behavior of many studio heads, producers (especially), directors (i.e. Polanski) and actors is reprehensible. You do awful things, that if done in the mainstream sector of the population would result in public and media scorn, derision, denunciation, ostracizing, even jail time. We demand behavior change. We demand that M. Polanski be served his just dessert. This would require that actors, directors, producers, et al refuse to work with him until he returns to the US for Sentencing. We demand that Hollywood take to task Mr. Mel Gibson (and others like him) for their abusive behavior in that they (the film industry) will no longer work with said deviants until there is evidence of 1) Sincere Remorse, and 2) Changed Behavior. We demand that individuals curtail their lascivious, immature, and immoral behaviors. This would again require that those in the film industry refuse to work with those committing these types of offensive deeds. And to show you that we really mean it, we – none of us - will go to a movie at a theatre or buy a DVD for the period of three months. If you don’t ‘get’ that we mean it by then, then we will start up a new period of boycotting – say, six months. And so on, for however long it takes.”

Wow - wouldn’t it be truly awesome if we sent that kind of a message? We would see how powerful as a people we are. I know - this is just a silly dream. I think I could do it. There have been years that I don’t go to a movie at all. I just got too busy in my life to think about it. But I feel strongly that 90% of the American population could not, would not do it. We could make a difference if we could. My son Shawn often says, “Vote with your dollars.” Regrettable that this will likely never happen.

Victoria J Mecham

A Long Family Errand: The Trip Way Past Bountiful – Part 2

(Or - The Adventure: How not to drive 30 miles away from home)

We remembered that the exit on I-15 to go out to the Isle of Antelopes was near Clearfield. We knew it was going to be waaay past Bountiful!

As we were driving toward the freeway, Roni announced that she only had ¼ tank of gas. I asked her, “Well, where are you going to stop? There are no gas stations between here and the freeway if you take this road.” Roni replied, “There’s a place up north I like to go to – I like to buy their car washes.” So off we went in her snazzy, fast little car. Like me, (only even more), Roni likes to be the Fastest Girl on the Freeway. She got the car she has because it makes it so easy to be that girl. I wasn’t worried – she is a good driver, and it was great to be with her, a relief to be taking care of this task, and just wonderful not to be the driver. I drive fast because we haven’t invented teleportation yet. Roni drives fast because it’s fun.

We talked, talked, talked all the way – we hadn’t seen each other for about three whole weeks and had to catch up! So we almost missed the exit. I realized we were probably past Kaysville. I said, “Oh, shirt” – (OK – there was no ‘R’ in what I said) – “did we miss the exit? I forgot to look for anything that said ‘Antelope Island, thataway’.” Roni said she wasn’t sure, she didn’t think so. Then we saw a sign that said ‘Freeport Center’. I said, “Oh! I think I remember having to exit where it said ‘Freeport Center!” Roni replied that was true, and off we went. (Just for clarification, it is Exit 332).

As we drove west, we talked some more. I told her a woman I used to work with who was from the east coast had told me that the best pizza you could find in the west was along this road. So we decided to look for it, even though I didn’t know what it was called or where it was. Amazingly, the area has changed a great deal since I was out there last. Twelve years, remember? Lots of franchises have gone up in the neighborhood. Needless to say, we didn’t find the pizza shop.

There was a good amount of traffic, and some yicky road construction. But on we drove, and on we drove. And on. We remembered that there used to be an onion farm along that road oh, so long ago. I didn’t notice any farms this time. I also remember that last time out there, we got stuck behind a tractor driving down the road at about ought-7 MPH. Thankfully, this time there were no tractors, and the road no longer looked like you would even find tractors on it. The modern world has arrived here, 25 years behind, just like the gag says.

We finally were approaching a little building sitting in the middle of the road; it looked like maybe it was the entrance to Antelope Island State Park. There were people dressed like rangers or something – you know – official forest-looking uniforms. We told them we just wanted to check out the area so we could decide where we wanted to reserve, but they made us pay anyway, so Roni flipped out her American Express card. We got a brochure/map of the area and off we drove. We passed a location not very far from the entrance station that looked a bit familiar, maybe - it had a pavilion or two and showers and restrooms, but they had said they don’t reserve that, so I figured it must not be what we were looking for. We noticed that the lake was pretty far from the parking lots, much farther than we remembered it.

We drove on some more. We didn’t really see anything else that looked like the area we used to go to, but we were having a good time and just drove on. Yeah – the lake was down much farther than I had seen it in maybe 25 or more years. After a long while, we decided we had taken a wrong turn or something, so back we went. Ah-ha! – turn here – oh, see, follow that sign, let’s see where that takes us. We followed the road for quite a bit longer, and ended up at a ‘campground’ – it said so on our map. But I could only see lots of brush and sand and a surface similar to what you see at the Bonneville Salt Flats – and no structures. And the lake was really, really far away. We started to turn around and we saw some buffalo very close, kind of surrounding our turn-around area. Or bison. I really don’t know the difference. (If my son Nate reads this, perhaps he can update my knowledge base). We stopped there for several minutes to see if they would do anything interesting. They just looked back at us or ignored us completely, so we decided to go. Those puppies are BIG, though.

On our way back to the entrance station we realized two things: 1) We had forgotten to stop at Roni’s favorite gas station in the Bountiful area, and 2) it was a whole lot farther back to the entrance station than we realized. Oh-oh. I’m riding along, having a serious anxiety issue in my solar plexus; Roni is, as usual, calm, serene, with that Mona Lisa look she has. Actually, you almost never really know what Roni is thinking.

As we neared the entrance station, we saw the area with the pavilions and great parking lots again, and stopped in the middle of the road to scope it out. I said, “After seeing everything out here, I am positive this is the place we used to reserve. We need to have the covered area, especially for Mother.” So, we went back to the entrance station, parked in the lot on the other side of the road, and went in to ask questions. The lady there was very nice – I think her name was Amber or Amanda. She said someone had told her they used to reserve the pavilion area but did not do that any longer; it was on a first-come, first-served basis.

I said, “We really need this covered area. I think we’ll take a chance and have the reunion here.” Amanda said, “Well, if you do use the pavilions, you will have to allow others who want to be there to use them.” I said, “We will come early – as soon as the park opens. If others want to brave our screaming masses, they are welcome to join us.” Temporarily, of course - I mean, who would want to be adopted into a family of 200?

So, now we had to get to a gas station on the fumes we had left after our long drive. Roni still wanted to go to her favorite station and felt confident that her magic car would make it. Me: still feeling the solar plexus issue; Roni: still Mona Lisa. (She also drove a little slower to conserve any remaining drops of fuel. Amazing how that works.) We did make it to the gas station just fine. The trip answered questions and we were able to finally plan the family reunion.

So, now it is planned. I have told all my 8 living sisters and asked them to inform their children. I’m not sure that happened, since I had a few nieces ask what was up as far as date and place, kind of important if we all intend to show up at the same time. Well, then, here’s the scoop - the reunion is at Antelope Island State Park, on Saturday, August 14. All day, basically. It is Exit 332. Head west for about a bizillion miles until you get to the little entrance shack. There is a fee – I think it is $9.00 per vehicle, so it might be smart to pack it with people. Also, The fewer cars there, the better. Parking is limited. I won’t quite say ‘minimal’, but if all 200 of us plus cousins (of the original 10 girls) showed up, it would help out with the parking situation. This is potluck. Grandma thinks it would be fun to stay all day so bring enough food for probably two meals. Lots of times we like to trade or share food.

Don’t forget your sunscreen, plenty of water, and your sense of adventure. You might also want to bring towels or blankets, and chairs, and don’t forget your camera or video recorder. Someone will be there as soon as the park opens.

I remember when my kids were still little, certain (unnamed) brothers who were married to certain sisters were throwing bread or something about 6 feet over the heads of the little kids and laughing uproariously as the seagulls dived for the morsels. I wonder what great games and adventures the younger generation will come up with this year. This is gonna be fun!

Love you all.

Victoria J Mecham

A Long Family Errand: The Trip Waaay Past Bountiful - Part I

I was given the task of coordinating the Family Reunion for summer of 2010. Many have said it would be fun to have it at Antelope Island in the Great Salt Lake; we have done this several times through the last 35 or so years, so it was agreed that it would be nostalgic and fun to have it there again. The last time we did my Grandson Joshua was a baby, and he turned 12 in April. The family was a whole lot smaller 12 years ago - the people who were teens or just coming into adulthood then are now full adults and most are parents several times over. I don’t know how many we have in our family, but it is said to be in the neighborhood of 200. (If anyone has this completely figured out, please bring us up to date). And this is just for the offspring of Victor and Elinor!

First of all we had to decide on a date. I forgot to bring along my dentist pliers so the pulling teeth thing to get preferences was out; but I finally got a smidgen of agreement. Someone said not before June 20 – too cold, I think; and several of us were concerned about sweltering heat, but this year has not been too bad. Grandma Nor was worried about being cold – at 93, she doesn’t stay as warm as she used to. So, it looked like it would be between June 20-ish and the middle of September. That’s a lot of wiggle room. Oh, and it had to be a Saturday. Sunday doesn’t work for many because of their church, and many work weekdays. So, Saturday works, I guess. But since no one else stood up and said, “I want it on THIS DATE”, and I was the one doing the ‘planning,’ I got to choose. And I chose August 14. Whew! OK, that was pretty easy. Kinda.

I was cautioned to hurry up and make the reservations as early in the year as possible, as the spots fill up quickly. So, I started on the Internet about the second week of January. I can create blogs, I can work a spreadsheet, presentations, and even a little bit of database. I can even poke around a bit on Facebook, but when it comes to a new site, I stab around and get frustrated and it isn’t a pleasant time. I also usually swear several times. So, in my inept way I made 2 or 3 attempts at the Internet. I didn’t know what I was even looking for.

But Eureka! I finally found a phone number. There was a bit of waiting in queue, so I decided to call back later. Then I promptly forgot for a few days. I finally remembered to call again, waited in the queue, and it wasn’t too bad. The person was friendly, but kept talking about camping, camping. I told her we don’t want to camp, we just want to reserve a space for a day – in the daytime - for a family reunion. She didn’t quite understand what I needed and I didn’t know what she was talking about. Finally, she said she thought she knew what I wanted, and said there was another number I needed to call that took care of the area I was talking about.

So I called the number she gave me and I got a recorded message. The message said if I was interested in reserving a spot, I should leave my information, and they would call back “when possible.” What does that mean?

So, I left my name and number, sending out positive vibes that they would find it ‘possible’ to call me back. I waited a week and had no return call, so I called again, got the same voicemail, left a similar message. Again no return call. Again I waited. I called a week or so later, left the message; same result. This was clearly not working. And Gayle (Maynard) told me she had been out there and things were very different than when we were last there, and the water is way low. I decided I needed to see it and maybe go to the visitors’ center or something, see if I could make arrangements while there. I could see that Roni and I would need to go out on another adventure! (I have learned that just going to the store with Roni is an adventure. We still connect on the same giggly level that we did when she was four and I was seven, or when she was 13 and I was 16).

Love you all

Victoria

Next time: The Adventure: Or, how not to drive 30 miles away from home.