cremated, no funeral

acrobat

“I improve on misquotation.”
– Cary Grant

butter

INT. THE FOYER - LATE AFTERNOON

A general flurry of activity; Gussie and several workmen carrying furniture upstairs, unpacking barrels, etc. Muriel, list and samples in hand, is explaining her color scheme to Mr. PeDelford, a polite, cigar-smoking, noncommittal boss painter. In the b.g., casually leaning on the bannister is PeDelford's taciturn and somewhat skeptical-looking assistant.

MURIEL

Now I want the living room to be a soft green.
(PeDelford nods)
Not quite as bluish as a robin's egg, but yet not as yellow as daffodil buds.

PEDELFORD
Mm.

MURIEL

(handing him a sample)
The best sample I could get is a  little too yellow, but don't let  whoever mixes it go to the other  extreme and get it too blue. It should  just be sort of a grayish yellow  green.

PEDELFORD

(making a note)
Mm-hmm.

 They turn to the dining room.

MURIEL

Now the dining room I'd like yellow.  Not just yellow, a very gay yellow.

PEDELFORD

Mm-hmm.

MURIEL

Something bright and sunshiny.
(sudden inspiration)
I tell you, Mr. PeDelford, if you'll  just send one of your workmen to the A&P for a pound of their best butter  and match it exactly, you can't go wrong.

PEDELFORD

(making a note)
Mm.

MURIEL

This is the paper we're going to use here in the foyer.
(hands sample to him)
It's flowered but I don't want the  ceiling to match any of the colors  of the flowers. There are some little dots in the background, and it's these dots I want you to match. Not the little greenish dots near the hollyhock leaf, but the little bluish dot between the rosebud and the delphinium blossom. Is that clear?

PeDelford looks carefully at the sample, then:

PEDELFORD

(making note)
Mm-hmm.

MURIEL

The kitchen's to be white. Not a cold, antiseptic hospital white -- a little warmer but not to suggest any other color but white.

PEDELFORD

(note)
Mm.

MURIEL

Now for the powder room, I want you  to match this thread.
(hands him thread)
You can see it's practically an apple red. Somewhere between a healthy Winesap and an unripened Jonathan.

PEDELFORD

(making note)
Mm.

There is a crash from the kitchen.

MURIEL

Will you excuse me?

Muriel hastily exits toward the kitchen. PeDelford turns to his assistant.

PEDELFORD

Got it, Charlie?

CHARLIE

(deadpan; indicating rooms with his thumb)
Green, yellow, blue, white, red.

PEDELFORD

Check.

1948's Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House screenplay here.

wifebeater alcoholic

Tracy Lord

Don't tell me you've forsaken your beloved whiskey and whiskeys.

C.K. Dexter Haven

No, I've just changed their color. I'm going for the pale pastel shades. They're more becoming to me.

How about you, Mr. Connor? You drink, don't you? Alcohol, I mean.

Macaulay Connor

A little.

C.K. Dexter Haven

A little?

And you're a writer? Tsk, tsk, tsk. I thought all writers drank to excess and beat their wives.  You know, at one time I think I secretly wanted to be a writer.

1940's Academy Award winning The Philadelphia Story screenplay here.

lysergic acid diethylamide

Cary Grant [1904-1986] photographed by Milton Greene [1922-1985]; having had his own positive experiences with it, Grant persuaded Greene to try LSD three times.

 

"I improve on misquotation"

"Insanity runs in my family. It practically gallops."

Born Archibald Alexander Leach on January 18th 1904 in Bristol, England, Cary Grant’s mother was committed to a mental institution when he was nine years old, however, his father told him that she had died and it wasn’t until twenty years later that he found out the truth.

In his mid 50s, 

he discovered the way to probe into his own subconscious (that area of the mind that is not subject to rational control) when he underwent psychiatric treatment with the aid of an experimental drug, lysergic acid diethylamide, known as LSD 25. At the end of the first of what were eventually to be sixty therapy sessions of five hours each, he began to experience the process of "rebirth."

Grant discussed his experience with LSD 25,

I know that, all my life, I've been going around in a fog. You're just a bunch of molecules until you know who you are. You spend your time getting to be a big Hollywood actor. But then what? You've reached a comfortable plateau, and you want to stay on it; you resist change. One day, after many weeks of LSD, my last defense crumbled. To my delight, I found I had a tough inner core of strength. In my youth, I was very dependent upon older men and women. Now people come to me for help!

More here.