Working Class Hero

Photos by Lynn Goldsmith, 1977-1978:

Photos by Frank Stefanko, 1977-1978:

Next two photos from the Nebraska period, 1982:

Bruce Springsteen holds an interesting place in American pop culture - Part good ol', demin-clad Jeresy boy; part rock superstar; part liberal, socially-conscious figure; and part uneasy sex symbol. Not one of these things, however, feels disingenuous to me, but rather parts of a man who has struggled to just be himself in a career that is often label-making and soul destroying. I've always had a softspot for the Boss, not because I'm his biggest fan and own all his albums, but because there is something I find so easily accessible about his music. It's the music my parents played when I was growing up, and I remember all of those long drives from D.C. to rural New Hampshire with Meredyth and I lounging in the backseat of the Volvo wagon, "Born To Run" reverberating from the speakers. Springsteen is good highway music.

Of course, New Jersey is my favorite state, but the way I feel about The Boss is certainly unlike the way I feel about, say, Jon Bon Jovi. Having spent a good deal of time in various locales in Jersey, I can attest that Bruce's lyrics - often describing big dreams in small, beat up towns - are beautifully yet simplistically accurate. Even if I had never even been to New Jersey, I feel like he turns people and places, drugstores and summer nights, into vivid mental pictures. People like to give him shit for espousing these working-class values when, through all his mainstream success over the years, he has become a multi-millionaire and rock celebrity. People do this with a lot of musicians, and I find the notion completely ridiculous. The hunger one must experience when young and poor I imagine mitigates when they become accustomed to more comfortable surroundings, but that's like asking someone to stay struggling and unknown forever. And if that were the case, we would miss out on a lot of great music.

Anyway, I decided to make this post because as of late I've been listening to the 1982 tune "Atlantic City" over and over, which is such a heartbreaking and amazing song. "Well I got a job and tried to put my money away, but I got debts that no honest man can pay..." DIE. This is off the dark Bruce solo album, Nebraska, which I am quite fond of. That, Darkness On The Edge Of Town, and Born To Run are probably my favorite of his albums.

**All above pictures are from the Morrison Hotel Gallery, and are by photogs Lynn Goldsmith or Frank Stefanko, copyright 1977, 1978, and 1982**

The Girl Can't Help It

Jayne Mansfield was born in Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania on April 19, 1933. Best known for her shocking blonde hair and outerspace-awesome curves, Jayne was Playboy magazine's Playmate Of The Month in February 1955 and starred in such films as The Girl Can't Help It, The Burglar, and Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter? Her best acting (most critics dismissed her skills because of her vapid, "dumb blonde" roles, a la Marilyn Monroe) is generally considered to be in the film The Wayward Bus. Although she was quite a popular Hollywood celebrity, good roles began to disappear after 1959, and even 1957's Kiss Them For Me, in which she starred opposite Carey Grant, was a major box office disappointment.

In 1962, she had a bit of a comeback in popularity when she became the first mainstream American actress to go nude in the film Promises! Promises! Many of the on-set photographs were published in Playboy, and Hugh Hefner got an obscenity charge. Although this movie landed Jayne on the Top Ten Box Office Attractions of 1963, she longed to be seen as a more serious actress and play substantial parts. This of course never came to fruition, the double-edged sword of being so remarkably sexy. It was her blonde bombshell image that made her famous in the first place, and the reason her career was completely limited.

The irony was that Jayne Mansfield was indeed not dumb (or even a real blonde) at all. She was known for having a very high IQ, and was a classically trained pianist and violinist who could speak five languages. The public, Jayne admitted, couldn't care any less about those things, their interest only in her measurements, which according to Playboy were 40D-21-36 and her height was 5'6". Her breasts, too, were the subject of much media attention. She was constantly spilling out of dresses, which accounts for the famous photo of Sophia Loren casting what looks to be a disapproving eye at Jayne at a dinner party, as she smiles sweetly and her boobies look like they're about to fall out of her dress and sit on the table. To that I must say: Jealous much? Jayne allegedly had affairs with men from JFK to Anton LaVey (leader of the Church of Satan), and was married three times and had five children. She died, tragically and instantly, in a car crash en route to New Orleans on June 29, 1967. She was 34 years old.