I watched "On the Bowery" the other day. It was so oddly familiar to me. I didn't catch the fact that it was a documentary until afterwards. I was astounded at the authenticity of the actions, mannerisms and speaking of the drinking men. This is how I remember my father when he drank. Looking like the lead character (although a bit older) but the style of clothes and hair almost identical. The mannerisms in the drunks around them - the walk, the slobber, the loud story telling, the grabbing of another man's arm to get their attention. The stumbling, the swaying. So oddly familiar. So real. I have witnessed my father's friends when they were under the influence.
We think there are vast groups of people who are lost in this life, but if you dig deep enough - you discover that this form of "losing one's way" or wasting of life has been going on for all time. If you read up on the documentary you find out that the guy with the white hair died shortly after filming and the main character - with the neat haircut was offered work in Hollywood but decided to stay on the Bowery. The pull of alcohol (or rather the mood alteration that the effects of alcohol brings) is very powerful indeed.
While watching, I just got the feeling that most of the dialogue was not scripted. Or the actions, for that matter. I don't see how they could have been. The stagger was just too real. Were the men actually 'acting' drunk on the set or was this a real documentary? How did the filmaker get around permissions? Was this even an issue in 1955? Maybe they did not need permissions. Maybe documentaries such as this created the need for TV production companies to get authorization before they placed somebody on film. Hell, maybe the guys signed the authorization paper for a drink.
It made me feel a bit better knowing that this seemed to be an epidemic of some proportion. How many of these men had families at home? Families who stopped expecting them to come home. Maybe they had been abandoned by family members and ended up on skid row. Skid rows still exist. Maybe we need another documentary. Maybe there is one and I just have not found it, yet.
Regardless, this film was gritty and messy. It was not the choreographed films you see today that show you how things were back then or how things are in 'loser territory'. No matter how hard they try - the films today always have some sort of glamour or gloss to them. Not this one. I kept expecting one of the old men to stand up to see that he had pissed his pants. Maybe they cut those scenes out.
Why such small glasses? When I worked in a bar in the mid 70's all the drunks at the bar drank out of those big fish bowl mugs. Or the big handled mugs. My dad had a dozen of the big handled mugs. He kept all kinds of doo-dads in them. One would be full of watch parts. One would be full of odds and ends. I spent hours going through those big old mugs of junk.
I think my Mom threw them all away after he passed. I think she just went in his room and tossed everything out. I would guess he had a hundred ties. I think I recall him teaching me how to tie a tie when I was young but I seriously doubt I could do it now. I did love to go through those ties though, and look at them. When he was sober he was a very kind man.Well, I thought he was. Different siblings have different memories. I think my dad had his favorites. There may have been a brother or two that do not recall him as being so nice.
I remember (laughing) one time asking my Mom why she married him. Because when I came along in 1960, she had been married to him for twenty years. I only saw the drunk who could not keep a job. It was hard for me to imagine that he had been anything else. My mom laughed. She said he wasn't like this when she married him. I laughed at myself. Of course he wasn't. Who would marry something like that?
6 comments:
Such an awful awful disease. We still have it today although it is not tolerated nearly as much. I watch the TV series Mad Men in which they are drinking all the time. They tend to gloss over it more although last on man did ruin his pants and got fired in the story. I am so sorry for the hard part of having a father who has this disease. I had friends that did and they all reacted and grew up differently.
I grew up with that father too and I know my brothers and I share different memories. My older brother never seemed phased by the fact that he was an alcoholic. When you go from saying "my dad drinks", to "my dad is an alcoholic", it changes everything.
I was about 23 when the fact finally hit me and when I asked my brother if he knew it. I don't recall his answer but it didn't seem to bother him as much as it did me. My younger brother seemed to get the brunt of the alcoholism, he was the only one left after I left home and they fought a lot. And it probably hit him the hardest when my dad died at the young age of 54.
It's a sad thing to experience and grow up with. Still. you seemed to have turned out okay and gotten over it or learned to live with it, both of you. Growing up my dad told me several times the hazards of drinking and hanging out in joints. He said, you can get in more trouble in twenty minutes than you can get out of in twenty years. A few times when I was on my knees, hugging the commode, I remembered it.
Thank-you all of you who commented. I am actually uncomfortable talking about this one on one.
I understand Peruby. When I realized that my dad was an alcoholic, I joined the Adult Children Of Alcoholics group. It was ok at first to get your story out and to listen but after awhile it was downright depressing. I felt worse after the meetings and took everyone else's pain home, so I stopped going. And as far as one-on-goes, those that have never been through it don't get it, so why bother (my opinion). So blogging is a great way to get it out whether anyone gets it or not. But I do ♥
Wow. This is heart-wrenchingly sad. But, somehow, I'm glad you shared it.
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