A FLASK OF FIELDS

“It was a woman who drove me to drink, and I never even had the decency to thank her.”

“I like children. Preferably broiled or fried.”

Happy 130th birthday today to the funniest misanthrope who ever lived, William Claude Dunkenfield – aka W. C. Fields – born in 1880 in Darby, Pennsylvania. He suffered through a painful and abused childhood, learned to juggle, beat up his father and ran away to join Vaudeville. He became a star, developing a cynical, put-upon persona that was somehow endearing. When movies came along, he joined up, actually working in silent film with D.W. Griffith. But movies needed to talk before they could fully embrace Fields’ unique perspective on humanity. His distinctive nasal delivery became his trademark – instantly recognizable, mumbling asides and witticisms that gained him a place in the hearts of curmudgeons everywhere.

He wrote his own scripts – under such pseudonyms as Mahatma Kane Jeeves and Charles Bogle. He made a few masterpieces, notably ‘The Bank Dick’ (1940). But my favorite Fields is the kinder, gentler Fields who appeared in ‘It’s A Gift’ (1934) as put-upon Grocery store owner Harold Bisonette, who dreams of moving his family to California and tending a grove of orange trees. When he finally arrives, he discovers that the property he purchased sight unseen is a worthless and dilapidated lot, and seeks solace in a flask of whiskey.

“You’re drunk”, scolds a stuffy looking banker.

“Yeah, and you’re crazy”, responds Fields nonchalantly. “But I’ll be sober in the morning, and you’ll be crazy the rest of your life.”

You gotta love a man with a philosophy like that.

Click here for a flask of Fields in ‘It’s A Gift’:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u2LfQ_jCeTs