I’m in a summer swoon attempting to rise above the clouds, minus a silo of alcohol.
It’s hard competing with vodka on the rocks, but Lucille Ball is indeed a contender, her classic reruns beating Prozac in the antidepressant department.
I even made popcorn before my Lucy marathon.
We start in Italy, when to soak up local color, Lucy decides to squash grapes, with her feet.
Wonder how many takes that took?
Then we pop over to France when she and Ethel, tricked by Ricky and Fred, wear faux designer dresses thinking they’re Paris originals which include a horse’s feedbag on their head.
Back to Italy when she’s missing Little Ricky in New York on his birthday, and throws a party for all the local Italian kids.
“It’s a my’a birth’a day too,” fibs Giuseppe, the group’s barefooted ringleader.
When she presents him with a pair of new shoes, is when he tearfully confesses to the ruse ordering all the kids to give back their gifts. “But it’a really is my’a birth’a day,” says one indignant bambino, so it ends happily with Little Ricky calling from the states.
They all seem to connect, like when she tries desperately to tell Ricky she’s pregnant, finally going to Club Babalu pretending she’s a guest requesting him to sing, We’re Having a Baby…my baby and me…
which makes me sob into my popcorn.
And who can leave out the candy factory. While Ricky and Fred play house-husbands, Lucy and Ethel bring home the bacon, but in this case, chocolates by the pound. When Lucy stuffs them in her hat, I’m on the floor. Not bad considering I’ve seen it 300 times.
Time to fly to L.A. where Ricky has been cast, though a stretch, as the Cuban Don Juan, while Lucy gets in all kinds of mischief, starting with harassing William Holden at Hollywood’s famous Brown Derby, where Ethel cuts Lucy’s spaghetti with manicure scissors before dumping a cake on Holden’s head.
This might be my favorite episode, especially after Bill gives Ricky a lift home from the studio, who invites him up where Lucy, in disguise, lights her nose on fire, an accident while filming they decided to keep in.
Naturally we end in Connecticut where the Ricardos and Mertzes move deciding to raise chickens. The girls, to give the chicks elbow room, allow them the run of the house almost causing Fred to have a stroke.
“YOU CAN’T DO THAT. THEY’RE GONNA FREEZE THEIR FUZZ OFF.”
Funniest image ever is Lucy pretending she’s a mother hen to get her chicks to come out from under the fridge.
So the big question…did my swoon lift after playing Ball?
Instead of meds, these doctors should prescribe Lucy, every four hours, and then you won’t have to call them in the morning.
Think about that.