Sometimes I surprise myself. Choosing to cover Hoffmanís Patterns of the Past demonstrates my growth as a human being, setting aside my own personal interests for the greater good. When I read about this place while Tom and I drove back from another downstate bonanza I knew it would be a terrific find, especially for my lady friends. Over the years Iíve learned a few things: women love flowers, when their husbands do the dishes, and fine china. So this one is for you, gals.
That being said, I of course found a deeper interest in the subject after meditating on it a little while. Whenever I can get to the kernel of why anything is of interest to someone else (even if itís not so thrilling for me) I stretch and actually have fun experiencing something new. Iím a lover of the past, of history, of the link we have to our forbears who came before us. So I like the idea of these plates and cups and saucers being handed down over the ages. I derive pleasure imagining the meals served on them, decade after decade. What wondrous foods were served on them? Who was at the table? What did they talk about? What didnít they talk about?
This has something to do with the segments getting longer too, I am sure. My interest in people, beyond what they may be trying to sell or promote, is driving me to want to know more about them personally. I trust thatís interesting to watch for you, the viewer.
And of course thereís the schtick! Breaking the cup was a kick and didnít Jyl do a killer acting job with her reaction? I hammed it up as usual, drawing less on Stanislavski than on Shemp Howard. Anyone out there remember the segment we did on Wild Chicago years ago where I visited Lance Friedmanís glass blowing studio? We did a similar bit where I dropped one of his precious gems and saw it shatter on the concrete floor. ďI canít believe you just did that,Ē said Lance. Another Emmy winning performance, Iíd say. His face was ashen. One more great performance that must be recognized is Tomís for carrying the 40-pound camera through the basement maze of aisles without breaking a thing. I had a hard enough time maneuvering my 185-pound frame holding nothing but a reporterís notepad. When you come, see if you canít get Jyl to yourself for a minute and ask her about the various patterns. Each has a history and she seems to know them all. (This just in Ė a memory of a made-for-TV play written by Rod Serling called ďPatterns.Ē I could have taken an angle of talking about patterns in other kinds of ways, like whatís your pattern when it comes to choosing lovers orÖ orÖ.ah, forget it. I think I made the right decision. It was not for nothing that I didnít think of that while preparing for this shoot. Thank goodness.)