Pointing No Fingers

Infidelity never looked so good.

By that I mean, the 50th anniversary 4K restoration of "The Graduate" that the Byrd Theater was showing tonight was pristine. I don't think it's looked that good since 1967.

"This is the best possible way you'll ever see this movie," manager Todd told the assembled masses and he wasn't kidding. Never have the various colors of Mrs. Robinson's half slips or the details of her blue eye shadow been so vivid.

I started at Garnett's for dinner only to arrive during prime happy hour (it's been a while since I've seen a pitcher of beer served) and just barely manage to snag the only stool available at the counter.

In the tiny kitchen was the always charming Mac who greeted me by catching my eye in the mirror behind the counter. It was enough to get my attention and a smile from him so I had to assume that the baseball-sized mound of chicken salad on my green salad was his doing.

To my left was a guy eating solo and our server's innocuous inquiry about his day turned into a highly detailed account about his company's move and how they planned to spend $30K on renovations, but then the contractor upped the price to $140K, so the company balked and it was lowered to $100K, but then they demanded a $35K deposit.

Her eyes glazed over even before mine did just listening to him ramble.

It was hardly surprising that there was a sizable crowd for "The Graduate," but I have to admit I was surprised by how many young people were in attendance. I'd have been curious to know how many of them were seeing the seminal film for the first time.

Then, too, I wondered how certain dated details registered with them. Like beer cans with two holes punched in the top because it was the pre-pop top era. Or how Mrs. Robinson wore actual stockings and a garter belt, not pantyhose. How Mr. and Mrs. Robinson had to get married because she got pregnant. How the drinking age was lower, so it was okay to offer a 20 year old scotch or bourbon.

For that matter, stop for a moment and consider that Benjamin's father buys him a full scuba diving suit and accessories and complains that it set him back $200. I overheard a guy sitting behind me say it would be at least $1200 today and even allowing for jaw-flapping, I'm sure it wasn't a cheap gift then or now.

And although the movie had its dated moments (clip earrings, opera gloves, lots of teased hair), it held up beautifully for how it melded the story with Simon and Garfunkel's songs and delivered that most sought after ending of all: true love triumphing.

Sigh. Thank you, Hollywood circa 1967.

From there, I headed to Vagabond for music because I have been out for live music far too infrequently the past few months and I think it's affecting me and not in a good way.

The low-ceilinged Rabbit Hole downstairs was mobbed when I walked in and as I stood in the back looking for a way into the crowd, I spotted a girlfriend all the way across the long bar.

Starting toward her, we met in the middle only to return to her corner for a better vantage point. The first band finished their set and we took the opportunity to catch up because, as she said, women gotta talk and men don't always.

Because her relationship is in a state of uncertainty at the moment, she told me that after crying for 48 hours, she'd resolved to take a deep breath and focus on herself. That means she'd been at yoga before this, as well as cutting back on caffeine and drinking, doing whatever she thought would make her feel good.

And we both agreed that going out for live music always makes us feel good, with or without drinking, which is how we'd both ended up here tonight.

Keyboardist/singer Calvin Brown and his band then took the stage and proved that their brand of soul was just what we needed. The jazz critic came over to join us for a bit while the band began weaving its R&B spell over the room.

Brown had written a song or two about Instagram, "Because that's the world we live in," (causing the critic to joke, "I'm waiting for their song about MySpace"). When the singer bantered with the crowd between songs, he was pleased when people responded.

"I like when you answer me like that. I'm a church boy!" he said to applause before launching into "Cool."

I like when I go out looking for true love and end up letting the music wash over me until I feel good. Sure beats yoga.

Coo-coo-ca-choo

Everyone knows what a Mrs. Robinson reference means, but has everyone actually seen The Graduate?

I know I hadn't seen it since a film festival in college, so it pleased me no end when I saw that it was this week's Movies and Mimosas feature at the Bowtie.

After waking suddenly and unnecessarily at 8:00 this morning (I'm an eight-hour girl and that was barely six), I had nothing but time, so it seemed like a good opportunity to revisit 1967.

I was curious about just how different things were back then, especially since the story of a recent college graduate adrift in the adult world is a timeless one.

I got my answer pretty quickly: very different. Among the once-commonplace and now obscure cultural artifacts: stockings and garter belts (okay, still around, but not worn daily), half slips (I had one in elementary school, but not nearly as jazzy as Mrs. Robinson's), gym suits for girls in P.E. classes, and elaborate bathing caps for swimming in pools (to maintain a mom's elaborate hairdo, I think).

Beer cans required an opener, so every beer Benjamin held had two punch holes in it. There were drive-in restaurants with trays that rested on the window openings. Pay phones were in hotel lobbies and in the halls of rooming houses.

There was the awkwardness of Benjamin registering for a hotel room and having to pretend he was alone so as not to arouse suspicion that he was there for illicit purposes.

And there were jokes about Elaine's wedding being held in the maternity ward and her parents "having" to get married because of a tryst in a Ford. Ben and Elaine's love led almost immediately to wanting marriage. It was all very culturally dated.

But Simon and Garfunkle's music still worked beautifully in the film and I understood why director Mike Nichols had insisted on using it. It totally fit the film and captured the spirit of the generation portrayed.

The Graduate is a classic for a reason; it's well-written, well-acted and with the kind of compelling characters for whom the audience roots. The humor is both subtle and overt. And it portrays generations trying to deal with major social and cultural upheaval.

For years a good friend of mine referred to me as Mrs. R. because I was in a relationship with a friend of his, a guy younger than me. Of course now everyone uses cougar instead of Mrs. Robinson to mean that.

And despite her being mean as a snake, I'd still take being called Mrs. Robinson over being called a cougar any day.

Should the appellation apply, of course.