"Freedom from Want": Thanksgiving and grandmothers

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What I want is not the turkey on the platter, which seems too big for the spot where Grandma is placing it. And how is she carrying it anyway? My weak wrists would never make it, and the turkey would crash onto the floor. I’d let Grandpa carry it and smile sweetly, basking in the oohs and ahs.

What I want is Grandma herself. And Grandpa. How kind and cuddly they look.

The song associated with Thanksgiving is “Over the River and Through the Woods” which continues with “. . . to Grandmother’s house we go.” I never did such a thing. The only time I went to a grandparent’s house was at the time of Grandma Olive’s death and funeral, in Bayonne, New Jersey, when I was four. I played with toy cars in the steep driveway of my grandmother’s home on the bay. That’s what I remember.

When childhood friends said their grandma died, I thought, big deal. I had no heart pocket for such a relationship.

Grandpa Reuben is the only grandparent I remember, and he was not my mom’s biological dad. He was Grandma Olive’s second husband, who happened to be the cousin of her first, my mom’s dad Sidney. Olive didn’t have to change her last name when she married Reuben. I met Grandpa Reuben twice and was in love with him, the way a girl is in love with her grandpa. He was posh in suits but intensely kind.

Is there a word for being a grandchild orphan?

It is an odd and empty feeling not to have met my grandparents. But it is even odder now to contemplate that my grandparents did not meet all of their grandchildren. Dad’s dad was 70 when he was born; he fought in the Civil War in 1865; he died when Dad was 9. Dad’s mom died in the ‘50s before I was born, the last of eight kids. Mom’s biological dad Sidney was divorced from Grandma Olive and far away when we kids came along. Grandma Olive died when I was four; maybe she held me, I don’t remember. Then there was Grandpa Reuben, a fine substitute, but once on his jostling knees and once after his stroke in a wheelchair is it for memories.

Now, I’m going to be a grandma. When I first found out our daughter was pregnant, I thought I would need advice for my new role, since I had no grandparent memories to speak of. But guess what, there seems to be a heart pocket (think cargo pants) for this relationship after all. Strangely enough, while I’m loving my unborn grandson, it's almost like I'm sitting on my own lap, feeling loved.

Note about the painting: "Freedom from Want" was one of four "propaganda" posters by Norman Rockwell inspired by Theodore Roosevelt's speech to Congress January 6, 1941, urging the country to enter World War II. Read more here.

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Grandpa Sidney, part 2

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In February I wrote a post about my grandfather, Sidney Bennett, aka Wynn the Astrologer, with Harold Lloyd. After that a friend asked if I would post the other photos I have of Sidney in Hollywood. So here you go.

In the top photo my mother's father is on the film horse Silver King, star of 1920s and 30s Westerns. Silent movie cowboy hero Fred Thomson (not to be confused with another actor and Congressman Fred Thompson), stands next to his co-starring horse. If Fred Thomson hadn't died of tetanus at age 38, he might have had a more lasting legacy than Tom Mix. He's pretty much forgotten today, but in his day Thomson was known as "the World's Greatest Western Star." This photo had to be taken within a few years of his death in 1928, since my grandparents divorced in 1922, after which Sidney moved to Hollywood. Thomson created controversy when he played Jesse James in 1928, because of his sympathetic portrayal of the villain. There were still people around who remembered the not-so-good-old days of the James Gang!

Below is a dilapidated publicity photo of Grandpa Sidney with Douglas Fairbanks Jr. Again, as in the photo of Sidney with Harold Lloyd, he is holding Fairbanks' astrological chart. I don't know who wrote on this photo, but on the back is also written "why men leave Bayonne" - alluding to the city in New Jersey where Sidney had settled with my grandmother - Grandma Olive, and where my mother grew up (though like Sidney she was born in Chicago). I assume this was for a newspaper piece about Sidney in a New York or Bayonne newspaper.

Fairbanks Jr. was the son of silent film swashbuckler Douglas Fairbanks and apparently never intended to take up acting like his father, but he did and acted in 100 films! But that wasn't enough for Douglas Jr., which you can read at his bio in his name link above. For instance, he launched a London hospital for war refugees during WWII and became quite a philanthropist by the end of his life.

I don't know who the director on the left is, as there were several different men who directed Fairbanks movies in the 1920s.

I leave you with a montage of still images of Douglas Fairbanks Jr. At about minute 3:15, has a woman ever been more gorgeous than Rita Hayworth?

Harold & Sid

Here are two nice looking men in the 1920s or 30s. (They don't look like they're posing at all.) The one on the left, Harold, is pretty famous in those funny glasses. Recognize him? (No, he's not Tom Daschle.) The one on the right, Sidney, was fairly famous at the time. Now, only a handful of people would know who he is. Don't feel bad if you don't recognize him. Many of you won't even know the one on the left, though you should.

Sidney was a prominent astrologer in the '20s, '30s and '40s, had a column in the New York Daily News, and published Wynn's Astrology Magazine, including astrological charts of Hollywood stars, such as the chap on the left. Sidney developed a system that is still used by astrologers based on the solar return (the sun's return to its position in a birth chart, which occurs every seven years), which he called the "Key Cycle."

His birthday is February 10 (1892). I should know him personally, because he is my grandfather, Sidney Bennett, aka "Wynn," but I never met him, and neither did any of my family except my mom. She only saw him a few times after he and her mom (Grandma Olive) divorced when she was six. He went on to marry and divorce several more times, had children by his other wives, had a show for a while in Las Vegas, ended up living a strange life in New Zealand (they say he lived in caves) and died in the 1970s. I remember being a teenager answering that phone call from NZ for my mom from someone who had news about her dad when he died.

I don't follow astrology, although it's fun to read what Rob Brezsny has to say because he's smart and funny. Sidney predicted the future. I've seen some of his columns in the NY Daily News that were torn apart by readers when they didn't come to pass. These days astrologers talk more about trends, tendencies - like you might feel energetic for work today, or you might feel unsocial and need time to be quiet, or whatever. A bit safer than predicting what will happen next week or next year.

Maybe we've evolved in the last 7 or 8 decades. We're not quite as gullible as folks were then. In old movies you recognize the naïveté that existed. We no longer believe everything we're told, and with changes happening more rapidly, we know that anything that comes to pass will likely transform into something better or worse in the near future.

It's interesting to think that when my grandfather was a teller of fortunes, times were tough. It was the Great Depression. People cared about movie stars and their star charts. Doesn't it astonish you when you see a glam 1930s movie of tuxedoes and ball gowns, to know that some people in the movie theaters then were scratching to make a living, lucky to have food to eat, let alone a job? They longed to escape their misery and fantasize in long, deep mink stoles and automobiles.

How fake actors in the 1930s sound! Like they're feigning a British accent but it sounds like stupid American-Eastern-Snob-talk. (Still, I love me some Katharine Hepburn in "Philadelphia Story.") Today, we demand honest talk from politicians and film stars. As much as we complain about not getting straight answers from our government and the like, if you look back at popular culture, you'll see that we are a bit more wise. But I hope we'll get wiser, and quickly, in the days ahead.

Happy Birthday, Sid. Hope that's not disrespectful, but I can't bring myself to call you "Grandpa" since I never met you.

Here's a short clip of Harold.

Astrology: Fun, Evil or Science?

"Acrobat" sculpture by Lar Braun

I’ve been digging up information about my grandfather, Sidney K. Bennett, aka “Wynn” – a prominent American astrologer in the first half of the 20th century.

I remember my parents being rather embarrassed by my mother’s father’s occupation. It was frowned upon in church, it was considered telling the future, which the Bible has rules against.

For years I’ve read my horoscope for fun, usually at http://www.cainer.com/. I like this British guy, Jonathan Cainer, because of his sense of humor.

Click here for a transcription of talks Osho gave about astrology that are quite long, if you’re interested. He gives some history. Do you have an open mind?

What do you think of astrology? Do you:

1. Think it’s fun to read your horoscope, but you don’t change your daily habits based on it;
2. Never read horoscopes because you think they’re silly;
3. Never read horoscopes because you think they’re ungodly;
4. Never read horoscopes because you don’t know why;
5. Read your horoscope pretty regularly and find truths that must be more than mere coincidence; or
6. Study astrology and charts and really get into it.

I choose #5.