#00186/Greeting Card (4.5" x 6.25") - Blank

Okay, this card is one big non sequitur.  What better time to talk about The Appetizer Song from my all-time favorite holy-shit-I-can't-believe-how-bad-this-is movie, The French Line.  This 1953 3-D Technicolor train wreck was the pervy brainchild of Howard Hughes, whose sole purpose in producing the picture was getting good-natured but freakishly proportioned Jane Russell into a selection of scanty, architecturally unsound bathing suits.  (His most scandalous costume, a mostly-not-there two-piece, was squashed by censors.) The inane plot attempted to capitalize on the recent success of Gentlemen Prefer Blonds (in which Russell had the thankless job of co-starring with a preposterously charismatic Marilyn Monroe) and isn't worth recounting, but suffice it to say the action takes place on a glamorous cruise ship and the highlight is a long musical number performed on a huge set of white stairs where Jane proudly itemizes the many virtues of Texas gals (they're rifle-totin', petticoatin', bow-legged, cussin', swearin' straight-shooters, by golly!).  But before Jane stampedes the stage, there's this ridiculous introductory tune featuring a bunch of dancing waiters and a few dozen empty-eyed glamour girls (including an as-yet unknown Kim Novak) dressed in frothy ballgowns.  And what are they singing about?  What is the subject of the song that introduces the song about Texas girls?  Well I'll tell you what it's about.  It's about appetizers.  And here it is:

Poor André is nervous, because upon his tray are canapés to serve us!

But alas, alack, he must take them back, for today, poor André cannot give a canapé away! 

May the saints preserve us! It's not the thing to do so why do you hors d'oeuvres us? 

For alack, alas, pass the demitasse, not today, poor André! Take your tray of canapés away!

Then you hear that boingy-sproingy sound that always used to mean "WOMAN WITH BIG BREASTS" and Jane appears at the top of the stairs wearing a stetson hat, a strapless red sequined swimsuit, a gun belt, and black fishnets.  She comes galumphing down the steps, knockers a'jiggling per Hughes guidelines, and barks, "Hors d'oeuvres?  Man I don't eat that bird food..."  Then she launches into her number.  It's sublime.