Willard collected rats, bred rats, cared for rats, trained rats. And, in the end, the rats cared for Willard. What a movie.
Another good movie (I am allowed to be subjective here) was Animal House.
Animal house featured a girl by the name of Mandy.
Mandy was also the nickname of another girl, Mandy Rice-Davies.
You don't remember Mandy Rice-Davies, but she was best friends with another girl named Christine Keeler.
You probably don't remember Christine Keeler, either. Mandy and Christine were a couple of
whores opportunistic young ladies who became famous in 1963 for being associated with low-life men who associate with whores opportunistic young ladies, which is to say peers and politicians. Nothing new in that, of course.
John Profumo happened to be War Minister in 1963. Lord Astor was a lord in 1963. Both, it is said, sat backwards in chairs containing said Christine Keeler, friend of the other opportunistic young lady, the Randy Mice-Davies. But I think it was just Lord Astor's house that the chair sat in and he didn't himself sit in it, and only the War Minister fired off a salvo. After all he, Lord Astor, was a lord for gosh sakes. So he (El Lordo) only provided the
thrusting trysting place for the politician. He wasn't actually in/on her/it. So the legend goes.
Well, it was a hell of a thing in 1963 and if you were alive back than and living in Great Britain, you probably clicked your tongue in amazement and shook your head in disgust and went out and bought all the supermarket tabloids.
John Profumo sat next to the queen during some tribute to PM Margaret Thatcher a long time ago. Some wag (probably a writer for the Guardian) wondered aloud/in writing which one Ol' John lusted after most. I'm guessing both. I don't know, though.
Here is a picture of John Profumo late in life (when he still was alive, I mean) sitting with a smirk on his face, obviously inwardly reminiscing about what a good year 1963 was. But then, his lapel tells us it was Remembrance day, so he was entitled.
Before he died, John totally lost control of his hair and generally the will to appear well-groomed in public.
Incidentally, during the scandal, PM Harold McMillian decided to retire due to ill health. (He was sick of being humiliated.)
Getting back to my theme (I have a theme to this post) of 6 degrees of separation, Randy Mandy, during the height of her notoriety, used to compare herself to Lady Emma Hamilton.
Emma, Lady Hamilton was, as you all know, and you know you do, was the mistress of Lord Nelson. Those of you who follow this blog long-term, know that I am a big fan of Nelson, due partially to the number of his names and titles, but primarily because I covet his hats. I am a hat and helmet kind of guy. Note the empty sleeve pinned to his chest.
Well, by gosh, Emma Hamilton had time on her hands (Lord Nelson was a sailor, you'll recall) and so she became the
whore muse of the famous painter George Romney. Or maybe truly just a muse; I had better not jump to conclusions in the early 19th century besmirching department.
As it happens, ANOTHER George Romney (what are the odds!) was the Governor of Michigan in 1963 (again that year!) He had been president of American Motors in Detroit (no such thing anymore. American Motors, I mean, not Detroit) and later ran for the Republican Presidential nomination but lost to Richard Nixon (or Barry Goldwater or whoever was running for Republican nominee that year,) dropped out and threw his support behind Nixon. As you do. Nixon rewarded ex-Governor Romney by giving him the lofty federal position of Assistant Secretary for African Affairs. I'm embarrassed to admit to you that I don't know how he fared in that fine position or if he lived or died. Assumed died somewhere along the line.
George and Lenore Romney, looking down over Detroit from their lofty perch in their mansion in Bloomfield Hills, had a son. His name was (still is) Willard Romney. One of his parents (don't know which, or, really, if) probably took pity on Willard and said, "Will you look at the size of those hands! Let's nickname him Mitt!" And so it came to pass. Or for some other reason.
Above referenced baby-grown-to-manhood Mitt Romney became the 70th Governor of Massachusetts. Why not Michigan? Well, it starts with an M so that's close enough. Again, this is just my own reasoning. Before becoming a famous politician (as the sons of famous politicians are wont to do) Mitt became a Mormon missionary. To the Philippines? No, to France. I have no information on how many conversions he was able to make, or even if he learned to speak French, but afterwards he went to college and graduated from BYU in Utah. A Mormon who goes to BYU? Unbelievable! Well, they do. Then he earned his Juris Doctor degree from Harvard and also a Masters of Business Administration from Harvard. You know, it is starting to dawn on me how he ended up in Massachusetts.
Of course, with an education like that, one MUST become a politician, right? So (as a Republican) he ran for Senator of Massachusetts against 100-year Democrat incumbent Ted Kennedy. (Guess whether he won or not.) Hmmmmmm. But Kennedy was dead by then, wasn't he? Guess not. So then he (Romney, not Kennedy) ran for governor of Massachusetts. Still a Republican, he apparently was able to act enough like a Democrat to fool the voters and win and became governor. Of course, that is only conjecture. Lower than conjecture: Relax Max conjecure. But how the hell else can a Republican win high office in Massachusetts? I ask you.
Now, Willard is on the prowl again, and will probably be Obama's opponent in the next Presidential election. He's the frontrunner now. (For the Republicans, I mean.) Who knows what the next year will bring. Maybe Mitt has a Mandy in his closet.
I knew you would be impressed with all this in-depth research just for a blog post.
Rats and politicians and all.