Just Sayin...

Most of us are now aware that some of the quotes attributed to artists and others are fictitious. They simply weren’t said. For example Humphrey Bogart never said “Play it again Sam” in Casablanca; he said “Play it” that is all. My favourite actor Jimmy Cagney never said “You dirty rat” in White Heat or any other of his wonderful films. As Oscar Wilde said of something James Whistler said, “I wish I had said that.” They may wish they said it, but they didn’t. But what interests me is what was not said or at least reported after famous quotes. Winston Churchill after his famous “We shall fight ‘em on the beaches” speech is reputed to have turned to his BBC sound technician and said, “But I don’t know with what, we don’t have any bloody weapons.” Topically Neil Armstrong was reputed to have said of his “One small step …” “Well, actually it wasn’t that small a step. It was quite a distance down to the surface.” So, the world has lost the last of its great exploratory heroes of the 20th Century; the only one I think to match Armstrong was our own Sir Edmund and it is perhaps no coincidence that both men were among the most self-effacing one could meet. Perhaps it is that very fact that added to the reverence in which they are held. They are much revered for their famous acts and famous words. But here is something that you may not know. Neil Armstrong’s words were written for him by a NASA speech-writer. Nothing wrong with that and I wouldn’t want to diminish their effect for that. But Sir Edmund Hillary’s almost as famous statement of fact after his Everest climb “We knocked the bugger off” was all his. Simple, succinct, accurate. Very Hillary, but also very Kiwi. That one statement, by Sir Edmund, did a lot of summing up and it still resonates today. Just sayin… If you are at all interested, James Whistler’s riposte to that great plagiarist Oscar Wilde’s “I wish I had said that” was “You will Oscar, you will.” I wish I had said that.

There, for History

Unlike just anybody else it seems, I don’t remember where I was the day I heard Kennedy had been shot. Sorry. I can, however, remember where I was the day I watched Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin land on the Moon and I certainly enjoyed watching those enhanced pictures this time around on the 40th Anniversary of that landing. What I found remarkable about those celebrations, apart from the pictures, was the lack of Americanism about them. In their coverage, there seemed a desire by Americans to genuinely share their achievement with the world rather than take ownership. They were, for example, generous and gracious in acknowledging the role and contribution of the Soviet Union to the space race. American astronauts were paraded with dignity and all, it seems, were able to say what they liked. It was good to see. And I wonder if what we are seeing is a new-found dignity and maturity for America, rather than the jingoism of the past. Further evidence of that was the restrained way in which they covered the death of Walter Cronkite.
Contrast that with the hysterical coverage of Michael Jackson just a fortnight before. Have the Americans learnt so much in so little time? Or did one lead to the other? Are Americans themselves embarrassed by the Michael Jackson coverage?
But, returning to Cronkite, what I do remember about the Kennedy coverage was its announcement by a tearful Water Cronkite; it was perfect, if sad, television. Cronkite was there again for the Moon Landing and for that event we can add professional to perfect. Cronkite was there, always, for history. And history and we were well served by this man.
As a footnote, perhaps the only sadness attached to the Moon Landing celebrations was that Mr Cronkite didn’t get the opportunity to participate, perhaps by coming out of retirement to cover or comment on this event. He and we missed that by less than a week.

----------------
Now playing: Plácido Domingo - Dein ist mein ganzes Herz
via FoxyTunes