I Just Read About That…

SOUNDTRACK: THE PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS-“Cigarette Dangles” (1993).

TPOH’s “I’m an Adult Now,” (especially the first version) was a favorite song of mine back in the late 1980s.  It was raw and funny and fun to listen to.  TPOH has had a hard time of it over the years, getting bumped from labels and whatnot, but they’ve consistently released decent hits.

By 1993, Moe Berg’s voice is remarkably conventional.  Indeed, there’s not all much that’s alternative about this song at all.  It’s not that it’s a bad song, it’s just kind of blah, the roughness has been smoothed off and despite words like: “Cigarette dangles, makes me hard,” the backing vocals and such make it sound like a poppy B-52s.

Huh, given what I just wrote, why wasn’t this song massive?  Cool guitar sound too.

[READ: August 2, 2012] “Thank You for the Light”

I always like when the New Yorker throws in a “classic” story, although I do wonder if contemporary artists are pissed by their famous elders coming back. In all fairness though I would think this story was chosen for its length (it’s only one page).

This is a straightforward and simple story.  Mrs Hanson is a pretty, forty-year-old divorcee.  She’s a saleswoman and has been given a new contract closer to her home state of Ohio.  When she gets to her new territories, she learns that people frown on smoking: “It’s not that I mind, but it has a bad influence on the employees.”   But man, she really wants a smoke, especially after a long day: “Smoking meant a lot to her sometimes.”  And so, she tries to find a place to light up without anyone seeing her.  And that’s pretty much it. 

The end actually has her looking to light up in a church (the incense goes up to the roof anyway) and then feeling bad about the thought.

What I need for stories like this is historical context: were there really traveling saleswomen in the 1930s?  I ask because every story I’ve ever read seems to be about male salesmen.  True, she is selling corsets but that’s okay, it’s still a grinding job.  My other question is: “He’s given money to support the law against [smoking].”  Was there a proposed anti-smoking law in 1936?  In Kansas City?

The story has a fun air of mysticism about it, and the equation of cigarette smoke to incense is an interesting one.  Especially, that is, in light of the ending.

This was a cool story, but this Fitzgerald guy may need to come up with something a bit more profound and zeitgeisty if he wants to be taken seriously.