Although I posted the same thing last year at this time, I feel nostalgic enough to say again that today is the date on which Errol Flynn was born in Tasmania in 1909. He grew up to become one of Hollywood's most famous leading men, partially because of his reputation as a bon vivant and womanizer, and partly because of his acting ability. Flynn could say a lot with his eyes, which is why I fell in love with him in the 70s, as a little girl watching FAMILY CLASSICS on Sunday afternoons (hosted by Frazier Thomas--anyone else watch that show?). It was on FAMILY CLASSICS that they showed Robin Hood over and over again, and I fell in love with Flynn at his swashbuckling best: sword fighting with the evil Basil Rathbone, wooing Olivia DeHaviland, the gentle Maid Marian; or hunting game on the king's grounds and then carrying in his deer carcass and slamming it right down on the dining table of the king's perfidious brother John.
Ah, that Errol Flynn could really hurl a deer carcass in a way to win a little girl's heart. My mother, watching with a stern expression while she did her knitting, told me that Errol Flynn was too MUCH of a heartbreaker, that was his problem. But I think she liked him too, falling captive to the Flynn charm that is captured forever on film even though Flynn lived for only fifty years.