Your Groovy Self

I'm procrastinating today. You see, I have a lot of work to do and so I'm making every effort to conjure up more important work that needs doing, so that I may have a reasonable excuse for not doing the work I'm supposed to be doing. Remember when you were in school, and you had an exam to study for, and you'd turn the TV on anyway, just to catch the weather, say, and there'd be bowling on, and at that moment it seemed imperative that you watch that bowling match?

I'm that way when I've got a textbook editing project and a deadline.

My reason — and it's an entirely reasonable one, to my mind — for not starting Chapter 8, New Product Development, today is that I'm tired and a wee bit fuzzy in the head from having been out very late last night. That, combined with the Christmas Blues, and thinking about my Opa and Elvis, led me to remember that when I was at Graceland in October I bought a couple of Elvis movies, and I haven't gotten around to watching them yet. Today's a good day to do so.

So I watched Speedway. You know the story: Elvis plays a race car driver who comes to town and is very popular with the ladies. There's a car race or two, a party or two; Elvis sings a song, and the girls dance around him in their go-go boots. There's one particular Girl who's a little bit sassy and who Elvis likes best, but she resists letting him kiss her. There's the Older Man who is in some way protective of the Girl and who foils Elvis's attempts to get her. At the end of the movie there's the Big Race and something happens to Elvis's car, but in the end it all works out and Elvis and the Girl ride off into the sunset together, singing.

Yeah, I know, that's the plot outline of every Elvis movie. And I love them all. It must be the boys-and-cars, boys-and-music thing.

In Speedway it's Nancy Sinatra who plays the Girl. And this Girl is an IRS agent who comes to town to investigate Elvis. Uh-oh, tax problems! It seems Elvis is the top money-maker in the stock car races, but he's been letting his best friend/manager (Bill Bixby) handle his finances. Never a good idea. So Nancy watches as Elvis is handed, in the winner's circle, a cheque for $7,500, then calls her boss (Gale Gordon) to report. "That's a lot of money!" he cries.

Yeah, I thought so too when I got my tuition bill in September.

Nancy sings a song called Your Groovy Self in the movie. It was written by Lee Hazelwood, her duet partner on Jackson, Summer Wine, and Some Velvet Morning. But in tone and structure it reminds me of The Last Of The Secret Agents, one of my favourite Nancy Sinatra songs. It was also a movie, which I've never seen, but would love to. I hear the song was written to be the movie theme, and so the lyrics give you the gist of the story:

He's never caught one spy I'm told
He's never even caught a cold
Got his degree from Disneyland
But he's the last of the secret agents, and he's my man

It's really a shame that Nancy Sinatra is just about the worst actress I've ever seen in an Elvis movie, or in any movie. And yeah, I know that comment is like observing that soap opera actors are, for the most part, bad. Elvis was never nominated for an Academy Award either, but at least he plays himself in his movies. But Nancy as an IRS investigator? Disbelief not suspended.

There was a little girl in the movie (played by eight year old Victoria Meyerink, who went on to guest roles in Green Acres and Family Affair) who was a much better actress. Elvis may have kissed Nancy, but he sang a song to Victoria, and he picked her up and swung her around.

In Speedway, the gang hangs out at The Hangout, a surreal, psychadelic diner, reminiscent of Pulp Fiction, where the booths are cars, and you open the car door to get into your seat. Elvis and his date go to the Drive-in A-Go-Go for a burger. There are go-go boots galore in this movie. But nobody, nobody wears boots like Nancy Sinatra.

If my mother were still alive, she'd be two weeks older than Nancy. Both are Gemenis, born in 1940.

My mother never wore white nail polish or go-go boots like Nancy, but she did have an admirable collection of go-go dresses, some of which I wear today. She wore her long hair in pigtails, and carried a fringed suede purse right into the 1980s. My mother was awfully groovy.

Nancy, though, is the goddess of groovy. She's the maven of mod. She's my idol. I just love her groovy self.

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Postmodern Sass will write more about her mother one day. If you like, Gentle Reader, you can click here to read about Sass's father. Or, go to the next story in sequence, in which we find that Postmodern Sass survived Christmas, but just barely.

Addendum: nearly a year later, Sass procrastinates again, and remembers her mother in this story. And then she tells you about her mother's groovy Christmas tree.