A Brief Shining Moment

Sometimes, most of the time, the world is too much with us. We yell and shout, but we have no real power to change the course of events. Then suddenly history speeds up, with no warning, and we do, for awhile. And so it goes.

Then there are Sundays like this, when I retreat from the sound and fury.

When I was a kid, I often was swept along with my family as my father acted in touring versions of plays like Camelot, My Fair Lady, and The Odd Couple. I watched endless rehearsals, I knew the musicals' songs by heart, I hung out with the other kids of cast members and the young chorus boys and girls. I was a backstage brat, at least during those endless summers.

When the 1967 film version of Camelot was released, I regarded it with teenage disdain. I was sick of the play and the music and I had no interest in the movie, even though it starred two of my favorite actors, Ricard Harris and Vanessa Redgrave.

Even then, I also thought there was something kitschy about the way Jacqueline Kennedy and the media had turned her dead husband's presidency into a Camelot-like myth. ("I know, I know, I know," Jackie dismissed satirist Mort Sahl when she encountered him on a upper Manhattan street in the 1960s. Sahl had sacrificed his once-lucrative show business career to volunteer for New Orleans District Attorney Jim Garrison in a futile effort to bring JFK's powerful killers to justice.)

But now, enough time has gone by. I'm curious about Camelot. I'm going to watch the old movie. That's what Sundays are for.

Vanessa Redgrave and Richard Harris in Camelot