Those of you who know me personally have undoubtedly observed from my pasty pale skin, my thinning blonde hair and my bedazzling blue eyes that I am of Sicilian descent. Indeed, the Interlandi name is still thriving over on that Italian isle. But in the States?
Recently, I was tracked down by a fellow Interlandi — Robert Interlandi, to be precise. Related or no, this other "man-between-lands" quickly made an impression, especially when I found out his profession. You see, Robert is the marketing director for Arrow Productions, an adult-entertainment company primarily known for reissuing a cornerstone of of Modern Porn: 1972′s Deep Throat. An instant classic, DT is legendary not just for its Olympics-worthy fellatio, but also for its connections to the mafia and politics (Watergate), innovative cinematography and inspired histrionics.
I found this all rather amusing, to say the least. But how did someone with my surname come to be involved in a such sordid business? Well, a couple of years ago, one Paul Interlandi, (Robert’s father, I presume), discovered a film canister labeled "Lost Treasure." Inside was none other than the missing negatives of Deep Throat. Paul was quick to restore them, paving the way for the renowned film to be screened at last month’s Kazakhstan Film Festival. Nice.
Now there’s even a Deep Throat energy drink! I personally guarantee, you’ll definitely want to swallow this stimulating nectar. Okay, Robert Interlandi, you know the drill. . . I expect my first case of the swill within the week. You getting this, Maker’s Mark? If you want a plug, I expect more than golfballs and napkins.
But let’s move on to another Interlandi of import: the prolific cartoonist, Phil Interland (RIP). Phil and his twin brother Frank were both cartoonists, the latter being more politically oriented, the former turning heads with his risque portrayals of "adult" situations. Pick up any issue of Playboy prior to 1990, and you’re guaranteed to find some of his work. Although his cartoons are hit-and-miss, the signature at the bottom always transmits greatness.
So, yeah — nice work gents. Two mildly successful Interlandi’s. And of course, there’s me. . . with what I’ve got. . . I shook Ringo Starr‘s hand once, and I’ve spoken to Geddy Lee’s wife on the phone.
Well, that was rather worthless. Now I’ve got to get back to identifying the Tincture of Philosophers, which, I’m fairly certain, is not Mexican Sol. HA! That little alchemical joke was pure gold. . . Great Gatsby, I’m on fire.