Voices on the Wind Voices on Aging
Nostalgia’s Pink Tongue by Mark Vogel For some, Marcello Mastrioni was once thought permanent, but somehow without notice, he has largely disappeared. As a cool perfect specimen he has slipped to the sidelines to live in peace with Sophia Loren, both smiling with a wholesome Italian-ness so prevalent in the 60s, nothing skinny or small in their eager honesty. In today’s thin soiled detritus, suave Marcello seems impossible, the only man sophisticated enough for Sophia’s ample breasts. Hand in hand, they strolled poor Naples, with eyes only for each other. They tossed sunny retorts back and forth with an innocence for a time when nakedness was hidden, and foreplay lasted forever. Known even by Missouri teens swatting mosquitos on the Mississippi, smooth Marcello stood in for all guys seeing Sophia as an earthy goddess. Though this milieu has drifted into scrapbooks, Sophia and Marcello remain fresh curiosities, examples of what we could be. Where too, are Steve McQueen and Ursula Andress? Dustin Hoffman, fixated on plastic? Sydney Poitier, shaking the world’s anger? Who else rapidly will become mythic, as so many others drift? What other eras will grow mythic, while others drift into shadows? Who else will die, and then grow large, rather than drying into dust?