Favorite Fictional Character --- Aloysius T. McKeever

 

I'm not sure how long it’s been since I first stumbled upon It Happened on 5th Avenue (1947), but I was ridiculously in love from the moment tonight’s favorite fictional character waddled down 5th Ave in New York City, whistling “It’s a Wonderful, Wonderful Feeling,” all while carrying his dog Sammy as he gets ready to break into the mansion of the second-richest man in the world to hibernate the winter away.

You see, Aloysius T. McKeever is a vagrant, a vagabond—a hobo, if you will—and he has this migratory routine he follows every year. As the weather turns cold, he heads to New York City and winters away in the block-long mansion of one Michael J. O’Connor, wizard of industry, as the O’Connor family moves south for the season. In the summer, Aloysius and the O’Connors switch places… though only one side of that arrangement has any clue what’s going on. Well, at least they didn’t until this particular winter.

Aloysius, played by Victor Moore, is a sort of street philosopher whose outlook on life might be a bit skewed given his circumstances, but whose heart is always in the right place. I think it’s fair to say McKeever isn’t just confident in what he believes—especially when he’s pontificating a wee bit—but genuinely thinks he has the life experience to back it up. He’s a character I would absolutely love to spend the winter with, even if only because I know he has some phenomenal stories to tell.

The movie is available on a few streaming apps, so I’m keeping my fingers crossed you’ll let Mr. McKeever and the rest of his new companions entertain you for a few hours this holiday season. I double–pinky swear promise you won’t regret it.

Rough Pages by Lev AC Rosen

 

Synopsis From Dust Jacket:

Private Detective Evander "Andy" Mills has been drawn back to the Lavender House estate for a missing person case. Pat, the family butler, has been volunteering for a book service, one that specializes in mailing queer books to a carefully guarded list of subscribers. With bookseller Howard Salzberger gone suspiciously missing along with his address book, everyone on that list, including some of Andy's closest friends, is in danger of being exposed. 

A search of Howard's bookstore reveals that someone wanted to stop him and his co-owner, Dorothea Lamb, from sending out their next book. The evidence points to not just the feds, but to the Mafia, who would be happy to use the subscriber list for blackmail. 

Andy has to maneuver through both the government and the criminal world, all while dealing with a nosy reporter who remembers him from his days as a police detective and wants to know why he's no longer a cop. With his own secrets closing in on him, can Andy find the list before all the lives on it are at risk?

Growing up as a gay kid who moved a ridiculous number of times, including a three-year stint traveling with a carnival, I always felt isolated. I never learned how to build friendships with kids my own age because I was never around long enough. That feeling of never quite fitting in led me to understand the power of books very early. At first, they were an escape, an easy way to step out of my own life and into places and people I’d never meet in real life. As I got older, they became something even more important: proof that I wasn’t alone. Proof that I could have a happy life as a gay man. Proof that I didn’t have to listen to the news media, religious leaders, or politicians who demonized people like me. Growing up gay in the ’80s and ’90s, those books were already hard enough to find—I can’t imagine what that search must have felt like in the ’50s.

Rough Pages, more than anything, felt like a story about the power of books to create community. Yes, it’s wrapped up in the mystery of a missing bookseller, and I’m sure y’all can guess the poor guy doesn’t get a happy ending, but the way the author builds the story never lets you forget how deeply books can change a life for the better.

As always, the mystery itself is brilliantly crafted. My jaw was on the floor when Andy finally pieced it all together. Like in Lavender House and The Bell in the Fog, the solution isn’t clean or comforting. It’s messy, human, and heartbreaking—leaving me mourning the loss of life on both sides of the violence. It’s the kind of solution that will linger in my mind for years to come.

Andy, in only three books, has completely stolen my heart and cemented himself in my top five favorite detectives of all time. He’s grown so much within himself that, and while I know this sounds silly, I honestly feel proud of the man he’s becoming. I need Andy to comtinue that growths, so I need this author to continue the series for the rest of my life.

At the end of the day, Rough Pages reminded me exactly why stories have mattered so much throughout my life. They carried me through some of the hardest years, and this one felt like a reminder of the hope that can still be found in your found community. If you haven’t started this series yet, I truly hope you will. Andy, and the author, deserves more readers. 

Favorite Fictional Character --- Fred Gailey

 

Thankfully I’m no longer doing it, but after working thirteen years in retail management, Thanksgiving became just another day to me. That’s not to say I don’t enjoy eating a good meal with family and friend, even when I’m the one cooking it, it’s just that any enjoyment of the day as a whole was beaten out of me years ago. That said, there were still two traditions I hung on to.

The first was watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade in the morning, either while I’m cooking or just hanging out in my pajamas. This was the first year as an adult (I’m 49) that I didn’t do that because I canceled cable earlier this year, and Peacock+ is one of the few streaming services I don’t have. The second tradition, the one I did keep this year, is watching Miracle on 34th Street (1947) in the evening. I’m pretty sure existence would implode if I didn’t get my viewing in before Black Friday officially started.

Thankfully this is not a movie review, because I would struggle to even partially explain why I love this movie so much. It’s not my favorite Christmas movie; honestly, it’s not even in my top ten. But there’s just something about it that demands I watch it every year, and it never takes long for me to be swept up in the story of poor Santa Claus going on trial for being insane. A lot of my enjoyment is due to Edmund Gwenn’s portrayal of Kris Kringle—one of the best portrayals of the character ever filmed. Another reason, probably the biggest, is John Payne’s performance as Fred Gailey, the ever-charming lawyer who fights to prove Kris is indeed the one and only Santa Claus.

If there were ever a directory of “good guy” Christmas characters, I’m pretty sure it would be named after Fred, something like The Fred Gailey Compendium or The Gailey Encyclopedia of Christmas Characters. Hey, I never said I was good at coming up with names.

I would give you bullet points of all his good qualities, but I just used bullet points in a post a few days ago, so instead I’ll give you a massively long run-on sentence. Just joking—though I truly did think about doing it, just to see how annoying it would be to read. Anyway, Fred is, for lack of a better descriptor, a nice guy. He has a positive outlook on life. He’s comfortable with himself and confident in his abilities. He champions those who need his help, like Kris. He’s funny, affable, caring, supportive, and able to think outside the box when needed. He’s exactly who I’d want representing me if someone were trying to have me committed to an asylum against my will.

It also helps that he’s quite handsome. Not that looks should influence my opinion — but let’s be real, they do. Fred Gailey is the Christmas boyfriend archetype, and I will hear no arguments about this.