Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Born On This Day- September 30th... Truman Capote

"Life is a moderately good play with a badly written third act."



My mother is a very accomplished, intelligent, & serious woman, but she always has had a sly interest in show biz & celebrity gossip. She told me the details & intricate ins & outs of the Elizabeth Taylor + Eddie Fisher + Debbie Reynolds divorces & marriages when I was just 5 years old. I appreciated that she explained that one to me. I remember well, being 12 years old & my mother giving me the low down on the infamous “part of the century”- Truman Capote's Black & White Ball.




The now legendary Black & White Masked Ball was a bash that Truman Capote threw at Manhattan's Plaza Hotel on Nov. 28, 1966. The guest of honor was Katharine Graham, president of the Washington Post Co., but no one had any illusions: The purpose of this gala was to celebrate the host, a serious writer, but also a serious celebrity. There had never been much doubt about the celebrity part, from the moment that he styled himself as a male nymphet for his 1st novel's jacket photo; Capote had shown a rare talent for self promotion. What had been in doubt were his literary accomplishments. As he entered his forties, the once promising young writer had produced only a few slim volumes of exquisitely written fiction & journalism. But recently In Cold Blood, a masterpiece in a new genre- the non-fiction novel & a milestone in popular culture, had buried his skeptics, & it was time to celebrate. Capote's plan was to mix & match people: titled aristocrats with intellectuals with ordinary folk from the rural Kansas county where the In Cold Blood murders had occurred. But in this respect, the party seems to have failed. "I've never seen such ghettoizing in all my life," complained Capote's lover- Jack Dunphy. "No group mixed with another group." As for the excluded, on the cover of the next Esquire, under the title "We wouldn't have come even if you had invited us, Truman Capote" was a photo of a surly looking group comprising Kim Novak, Tony Curtis, Pat Brown, Ed Sullivan, Pierre Salinger, Lynn Redgrave & Casey Stengel.


From the moment my mother told me about the Black & White Ball, I became fascinated by Truman Capote (at 5’3’’ he was dubbed the Tiny Terror) & I went on to read everything by & about him. I was fascinated by his distinctive, high-pitched voice & odd vocal mannerisms, his offbeat manner of dress & his fabulous stories when he would appear on  TV talk shows. I have everything he has written, plus biographies, diaries & books of letters. He is a member of a handful of authors that make up the club: Stephen’s Favorite Writers. He had a long standing rivalry with another of my favorites- Gore Vidal. Their rivalry prompted another member of my club- Tennessee Williams to complain: "You would think they were running neck &neck for some fabulous gold prize." I own a first edition paperback of Breakfast At Tiffany’s. I love all his work, but my very favorite is A Christmas Memory. During the holidays I always re-read it, & I set a copy out, as part of a Christmas tableau, on a table as a holiday ritual.











"I don't care what anybody says about me as long as it isn't true."

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Me & Barbra... Not Always A Love Story

Sometimes I am not the very model of a modern homosexual. I was insane for Barbra back when she was “Simply Barbra”, with the Egyptian eyeliner, the kooky thrift shop clothing, & the Modigliani posturing. Her television specials (1965-1973) were unlike anything I had seen before & I was mesmerized. The first was My Name Is Barbra (1965) made in black & white,& then came Color Me Barbra (1966) which has a sequence shot at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, with Streisand wandering among the masterworks & antiquities, singing Where Or When dressed as Nefertiti. Next she's among a circus of animals, singing Try To Remember to the elephant & poking fun at herself by looking eye to eye at an anteater & singing- "We have so much in common, it's a phenomenon." The final act is just her singing at a microphone, with Any Place I Hang My Hat Is Home & It Had to Be You. It made quite the impact on little 12 year old Stephen. I decided that a person with a big nose & unusual looks could be sexy & talented & adored instead of being made fun of & feeling like an outcast. I had talent damnit!

 I obsessively listened to her albums up through Stony End & then I started to loose interest. She took me down that Stony End, I never wanted go down that Stony End, but she took me down that Stony End. She was a Jewish girl from Brooklyn who “was raised on the good book Jesus & my mother worked the mines”. Huh? She seemed to be a woman with a once in a century vocal instrument & very questionable taste in material. Who could blame her for trying to be contemporary? Barbra started a career singing songs that were decades old then & going out of fashion, as songs from the theatre & standards being "the" pop music were being replaced with Rock & Folk.  It was Dylan & The Beatles. But, I would come back to her. I loved the album from 1974 simply named Barbra Streisand. It has a beautiful cover of Paul Simon’s Something So Right, that still gets to me, but it was followed by the horrible Butterfly with a really stinky cover of David Bowie’s Life On Mars (was there ever a worst match of material & singer?)...  & so it went through the decades. I would fall in love with her all over again with The Broadway Album (1985) & then she would come up with icky drek like A Love Like Ours (1999) with not a single redeeming cut.

Today I downloaded her new Diana Krall produced- Love Is The Answer, just released today. I have yet to listen, but I have high hopes. Each song is done with a version done with Diana’s jazz quartet & a version with full orchestra, with arrangements by super-duper Johnny Mandel. The album contains some of my favorite songs…ever. The one song I have listened to- In The Wee Small Hours Of The Morning is like champagne & velvet. I appreciate that, at 67, her voice has gotten richer on the bottom notes & is huskier & a bit rough around the edges.



Last Saturday, she did a small club gig (her last time was in 1961!) at the Village Vanguard for a small group of about 80, mostly fans that won the tickets in a contest from her website, plus pals like Nicole Kidman, Sarah Jessica Parker & the Clintons. I think that would have been amazing thing to have experienced. I have even more conflicted feelings about her film work…but not on this post, except to say that What’s Up Doc? is one of the best film comedies of all time & one of my favorites. When Barbra sings You’re the Top to Ryan O’Neal? Like Buttah.



Barbra singing Memories = please, NO!

Barbra singing C'est Si Bon from Color Me Barbra = perfection.




Maybe sometimes you just have to hit rock bottom.


This morning, while slurping away at my coffee and reading my new book about people suddenly turning immortal (no, it's not the bible OR twilight), I found myself humming a tune. Later this morning, while replenishing the coffee maker, I found that I was doing a little boogying with the humming. However, the final straw was when I began brushing my teeth and blurted out a line to a song that I know everyone has now heard, spewing toothpaste suds, eyes shut, toothbrush held in front of me like a microphone. I'm such a twit (an awesome twit). I was downright trippin' the light fantastic.

But then, I opened my eyes and saw standing there, dripping spitty greenish toothpaste froth into the sink, wearing mens pajama pants with Las Vegas print on them, my hair still snarled and mashed to one side of my head and staring at me was my very own reflection. I clutched my toothbrush and I realized what had happened. Miley Cyrus. Miley Cyrus. Oh. My. God. I've been corrupted by Miley Cyrus's new pop song. I do not approve of this.... The horror ran my bones as cold as the first time I looked into a dark bathroom mirror as a child, took a breath and said aloud, "Bloody Mary Bloody Mary Bloody....... Miley?"

You see? This is what happens when you raise your ear from ground. You get pulled in by the music you hear on TV commercials for new cellular ring tones. You start to like it. Apparently I haven't turned on my stereo in a really long time. It's because people need music and when you're starved, any old thing tastes great. Even Miley Cyrus.

But what to do? I feel for the kid. The ultra rich, gorgeous, grinning kid. Poor thing. She was born with real talent that was immediately commandeered and shaped by the despotism of The Disney, like those people who grow cubed watermelons in a plexi box. Cubed watermelons look cool, but did they want to be cubed? Nobody will ever know. And you gotta get 'em when they're still little. All I know is that they just naturally look less appetizing and too stackable. Much like all of the Disney Pop Stars before they were chewed and spat out into the sharks by Disney, used up. Never eased into adulthood with grace, each one has had to 'shake off' her childish image by behaving like a rhinestone crusted superskank for the cameras so that they might shock the world into realizing they are not a Mickey Mousekateer anymore. When thrown in prison, act crazy to keep the masses from raping you. Same survival tactic.



She didn't even have a chance. She really didn't, with her Dad being Billy Ray Cyrus, the one hit sellout country mullet God. He ran out of chances to sell himself out, so he sold his daughter to Disney in a blonde wig, telling himself and everyone why it is perfectly okay and it's different than when other people do it etc etc... Because afterall- she got an allowance juuuuust like a normal, well adjusted teenager. And it has paid off for him in a very big way. She's a bigger star than he could have ever hoped to be himself. However, the price being that all of her natural talent has been squeezed into a Pop Princess, do-it-for-the-tweens, let's do a fashion line, real popstars don't act like regular teenagers, hot pink, made to order, squeaky clean, plexi cube. What's that? An original thought? We have pills for that, Lardass. And they are now superduper rich. Whatever it takes, I guess. I do feel bad for her, because her life was snatched up and unless she performs a miracle, she will be the next gal to be shoved onto the train wreck with Britney Spears and Christina Whatsherface. Hopefully she'll salvage some of her talent and be taken seriously at one point in her life.


Way to crank 'em out there, Disney.

So, I can't help it if a teen focus group wrote a catchy song for her and I've caught the pop princess one hit plague. What can I do? I can't get it out of my head. My mind has betrayed me. I want to shake myself and then give myself a good slap and yell, "Pull yourself together for the love of God!!!" I am doing what I can to quarantine myself and get it out of my system. I'm going to have to give my mind a good washing out. A Joey Ramone Mind Enema (patent pending). That's what. (Tell me that there are support groups. I'm falling apart here.)

In the mean time, I have to go put my hands up, it seems that there is some sort of party in the USA that must be attended to. Or maybe I should just walk into traffic. Or dance. Yeah... I'll dance into traffic. WOoOooOHhooOOOo!



Dammit.

Look what I just got in my email.


Finally.

Walker... College Girl Ranger.

Yes, I am aware it is Tuesday. Yes, I am aware that the Swoon did not go up on Monday. Yes, I am aware that I am a slacker...


I have sick kids at home and have survived Homecoming weekend with a Freshman... cut me some slack.


On Sunday night I went to my favorite place to eat dinner in the world... Dairy Queen. I love M&M Blizzards, I really do. They are God's gift to humanity and I thank Him every morning for them.




"Hey God? This is June... how are ya? I know that Iran is keeping you busy and Health Care has probably got you pulling your Spiritual hair out... but I would like to thank you for Dairy Queen M&M Blizzards because I think they are great and they make me smile, and I know when I smile, You smile with me... so I hope you could forget about the fact that nine out of ten teens are not getting their daily allowance of fruits and vegetables for just a brief Heavenly nanosecond and know that MILLIONS are probably thankful to You for ice cream. Amen."



I am nothing if not Faithful... no matter what you may think you know about me.


Anyway... I went to DQ with one of my favorite people in the world! I have known Christiana since she was in my Small Group as a Freshman in high school and now she is a Sophomore in college-and my daughter, who was just a little squirt when Christiana came into our lives is now a Freshman in high school and Christiana thinks she is old.



Yeah... sure.


I asked Christiana who I should put on the swoon. She sat and thought for a moment and then jumped out of her seat and shouted

"PAUL WALKER!!!"




"Who is Paul Walker?"


"He is the totally hot guy in the movie Fast and Furious."


"Oh, that explains it."


"Have you ever seen the movies Fast and Furious?"


"Uhm... no"


"Well, you HAVE TO!"


So because Christiana is feeling old because my child is growing up, I thought I would make her smile and not only put Mr. Walker on the Swoon... but I would link you to her blog-which is totally fun because she is giving us the play by play of college life--and not by a kid that drinks every night and skips class (that would have been my college blog) but this blog is by a good kid who remembers who she is!


Upoon hearing how mucho grande taco bell Christiana likes this Paul Walker character, I decided to call him up. I told him all about Christiana and he asked if his agent could set up a date with her. I said "No way Buddy!" So then he asked if he could call her himself and I handed him her number and said "Do with it what you wish..." and walked away. (I am cool like that). But then I ran around the corner and did a little surveillance with my camera and got this shot:




This is Paul on the phone with Christiana asking her out on a date... and then getting a little perturbed when he had to repeat who he was four times before she remembered him.




This is Paul waiting for Christiana on their date. Look at how he is gazing into the future... THEIR future... I can just tell he is imagining a little house on a hill with a couple of dogs running around. Notice how he didn't wear shoes-he was totally anticipating her knocking his socks off so he decided to save himself the step.





And this is where he was at a movie premier and was saying "Sorry ladies... I love Christiana, but I hear Vin Diesel is single."



Good call Paul... and good luck with Christiana!


Monday, September 28, 2009

I Have Dreamed & Enjoyed The View


The season’s 1st round of flu/nasty cold hit our household last week. The husband was first on Monday; followed by me on Wednesday & T (the housemate) joined us in misery on Thursday. The Husband, still not feeling all that well, went back to work on Thursday, leaving T & me (hmmm…T & ME would make a good sitcom title) with 2 days of watching Perry Mason reruns & bunches of old movies including The King & I, which I had not seen in decades & it was as incredibly good as I had remembered. Does The King & I have the best Rodgers & Hammerstein score? Hollywood used to do an excellent job of making movie versions of stage musicals: Oklahoma, Carousel, South Pacific, & The Music Man.


I digress. The poor Husband suffers from a still undiagnosed lung ailment that was first discovered & nearly killed him in late 2004. He has highly scarred lung tissues & a common cold will hang on in his lungs long after other symptoms have moved on. He really suffers & my heart just breaks for him. In April, the Husband was given a session with a prominant psychic as a birthday gift. This person does not use astrology or any other method except just sitting with the subject & talking. She told him many amazing things, including that fact that he suffers from an unusual lung ailment because he – “had been killed by an arrow to the lung in the West during the 19th century”.

In Seattle, sometime in the late 1980s, I did some work for a woman who was a hypno-therapist. She had inquired if I would like to take some of my payment as a session with her. Not trying to stop smoking or loose weight, I asked her to what avail would I want to do this. She suggested a past life regression. I have a sense of adventure & I thought it would be a lark.
The hypno-therapist taped our session. When I came out of it, I was quite shaken & unhappy. It took me most of a week to get rid of my anxiety & shake the feeling off. She told me details of the session & I then listened to the tape, where I heard my voice, but with a different syntax & cadence than my own. When most people are told of a past life it seems that they were often royalty in Atlantis or a peasant during the French Revolution or some romantic notion. You rarely hear about a past life as a housewife in Akron. My reaction was dubious at first. Until I heard the tape.





It seems that I had a life right before my current life. I was Byron Skipworth, born in 1925 in a northern Chicago suburb. I had red hair (I was a red head in this life until I had no hair) & blue eyes. I was estranged from my family of a demanding & abusive father, a sickly mother & several older siblings. I left home at 15 & went into Chicago where I fell in with a group of jazz musicians, most of them black. These people liked me a great deal & named me "Skip".  I (Skip) had studied piano when I was very young, but I found a calling playing drums with jazz groups. I was befriended by one black family that allowed me to sleep on a cot in a screened in “summer porch”. I stayed there even during the Chicago winters. At some point in the early 1940s, I was badly injured in an automobile accident. I spent the rest of my life in severe pain as a result of the accident & eventually became addicted to drugs including cocaine & heroin. I was homosexual & had several love affairs with black musicians. I died alone & broke from a heroin overdose in the winter of 1953, just 28 years old. I was born as Stephen in Oakland, California in early January 1954.







After the session, I did some research & found that a Byron Skipworth was born in 1925 in Evanston Illinois. I never looked further & I never listened to the tape again. I hated knowing about my past life & I have never felt comfortable trying to deal with this information. I eventually lost the tape.

Last night, I dreamed as Skip. In the dream I was on the "summer porch" on  a winter day & I dreamed the entire sequence of preparing & then injecting heroin. I dreamed all the sensations & euphoria of the drug. In the dream, I made my way to the greenroom at a night club where I was urgently kissed by a very large, very dark black man. We had started having very rough but transcendent sex… & I then I woke up.


In this lifetime:
I have spent a lot of time in Chicago & always felt familiar with the city.
I have an innate musical ability & I play several instruments. From an early age I knew a host of musical & jazz standards. The Husband & my close friends consider me a savant in my ready knowledge of American music from the last 100 years.
I have always had substance abuse issues.
I had an early outrage at the treatment of African Americans, even before the civil rights movement in the 1960s, even as I was growing up in place where they were 1% of the population.
I burst into tears whenever I hear All The Things You Are.

& yet:

I had a very happy & secure childhood, with 2 loving & supportive parents.I have never done heroin.
I have had a lifelong irrational fear of syringes. I can actually pass out from seeing one on a counter at the MD’s or Vet’s office.
I do not have a fetish for or about black men, although I appreciate the beauty of many African Americans.
I have made it into my mid-50s.




The Husband’s psychic noted that he had a spouse/partner who- “worries too much, way too much. He needs to deal with it or it will be his undoing". She said we had been together in may past lives.


Sunday, September 27, 2009

Not even duct tape could save the Titanic.

This is the root of it all, Nerdsquad. The very pedigree that begins the evolution of the sophisticated and steadfast rules of an officially recognized gaming event. The crude parent of Olympians. The Eden of Sports.

It's the kind of crux in history that gives way to the multinational events we all attend now. A primitive moment in time when people get together (I'm thinking men), likely get drunk and try to decide what to do with the leftover apple baskets, the frozen solid horse poop, the pig's bladder or unreasonably gigantic pumpkins they've grown. "Let's display them!" "Let's Decorate them!" "Let's travel in them!" "YES! LET'S TRAVEL IN THEM!" "LET'S RACE THEM!!!!!!" And the room goes silent while the brilliant plan is absorbed.



And so it begins. The careful planning and carving, measuring & reinforcing with duct tape, the perfect home-grown boat. A thing which requires the most delicate of balance and grace to outmaneuver the rival Pro-Squash Sailor, Popular TV personality or Member of Parliament. Kayaks be damned! The crowd waiting in baited anticipation, wondering whether the stinking, fetid pumpkin which was left to rot for 2 weeks before entering the water would indeed hold the two men struggling for victory and buoyancy until the very end, the trepidation and then relief when the Black Pearl of pumpkin boat racing truly makes it halfway before the men inside flip it and land, sinking into the shallow bog like a Titanic gourd meeting its watery fate.


Here lies the very beginnings of pro sport, and why I think modern organized pro sports are stupid and boring. For one thing, in monstrous pumpkin boat racing- I've learned that cheating is definitely allowed. I've also learned that there are no gender or age boundaries. It is perfectly acceptable to stuff two grown men in a pumpkin boat and race them against a lone, white haired lady whose boat has filled to the brim with swamp water before the race even begins. She can be stuck on the edge of the bog, where she's left with no help- just an ineffective plastic kayak paddle, sloshing around in circles and muttering to herself while the triumphant winners make several passes through the finish line to get the perfect victory photograph. None of that hardly ever happens in football.


This is my kind of competitive games. Give me rudimentary, disorganized sports any day.



PS. I got to meet Rick Mercer, Canadian Hero . Yay!
Nice picture, eh? SAY IT'S NICE.

Gratuitous


Quote Of The Day

"I don't know what makes a person more conservative- to know nothing of the present, or nothing but the past."
John Maynard Keys

Saturday, September 26, 2009

Today, I pet a pig.


I pet a pig like a pro. It was wiry and smelled. And it had too many boobs. So I left and washed my hands.

Also:
This duck has awesome hair.


Tomorrow morning: Bacon & Eggs.

Autumn Movie Preview... Blind Date


Here is a film that has my interest because it stars 2 of the our best actors of stage & screen & true favorites of the Husband & me- Patricia Clarkson & Stanley Tucci (one of the best lovers I have ever experienced, passionate & inventive).  How about an Oscar nomination for Tucci for his outstanding work in Julie & Julia?  Have you seen Clarkson in The Dying Gaul?

"An English-language remake of Theo Van Gogh’s award winning 1996 Dutch film, BLIND DATE is the story of an estranged couple (Stanley Tucci, starring and directing, and Patricia Clarkson) who are desperately trying to reconcile after the tragic death of their daughter. Unable to face either their grief or each other, they go a series of 'blind dates', each placing personal ads & pretending to be strangers when they meet. They do this over and over again, playing a series of different roles, in an attempt to overcome the pain & rebuild their shattered relationship."

New Feature... Great Moments in Advertising


The Husband & I finally saw last Sunday's Mad Men. The episode before, on September 13th, had been somewhat of a disappointment from TV's best series (but still great TV). Last week's titled- A Guy Walks In To An Ad Agency was one of the best, with a larger story arch for Joan & the series most shocking moment. It included a wonderful small moment with Don & Joan that was funny & tender. But, I will never feel the same about John Deere again.


I have always held an interest in advertising & trends. I am part of a 5 member committee that makes the marketing decisions for the company that I work for. I am introducing a new feature to Post Apocalyptic Bohemian: Great Moments in Advertising. I will feature ads & marketing ideas that have really grabbed my attention. #1, on Broadway in lower Manhattan circa 2004:





Born On THis Day- September 26th... The Lovely Olivia Newton-John



I first heard her in 1971 with the Bob Dylan penned If Not For You. I thought nothing of her until 1974 & the country tinged If You Love Me Let Me Know & Peter Allen’s I Honestly Love You & 1975’s Have You Never Been Mellow when she became an object of my derision. I would make fun of her breathy singing, including a duet with John Denver- Fly Away, in which I did an uncanny & unnerving imitation of both their vocals, which I thought of as pure drek.


Olivia Newton-John won me over a bit with her performance in the film version of Grease. Her presence was loved by the camera & she seems to simply glow on film. I appreciated her physical & vocal transformations from good Sandy to bad girl Sandy & she had real chemistry with John Travolta. Even though I got through plenty of aerobics classes to the ubiquitous Physical, I have never owned an album by her (not even the soundtrack to Grease, the best selling soundtrack of all time). Olivia Newton John won me over in 2000, when she appeared in a dramatically different role as Bitsy Mae Harling, a lesbian ex-con country singer, in Del Shores' Sordid Lives, an all time favorite of the Husband & me. Newton-John reprised her role for Sordid Lives: The Series which aired 1 season on the LOGO TV network. The series featured five original songs written by Newton-John specifically for the show. I found her to be more beautiful in her 50s & her heavier & newly husky voice was surprising & expressive, & her acting was impressive & often touching. So… it took me nearly 30 years to appreciate her good looks & talent. Maybe I need to go back & reexamine Xanadu? I hear that she has a gay & lesbian following...

I Am A Freshman With A New Dress To Wear... Hear Me ROAR!


Do you remember homecoming when you were a kid? I do-I think I only went one year... maybe two. Okay, so maybe I DONT remember homecoming.


Which is why I don't see the big deal about homecoming now for my daughter, but because I know how important it is for a freshman to go to homecoming (we were not allowed to go to homecoming as freshmen) we have gone all out:


Dress-check!

shoes-check!

hair appointment with cut out magazine clipping of much desired hair style-check!

nail appointment-check!

"Can I have smokey eyes for homecoming mom?"-no check here, I am doing her make up and there will be no smokey eyes! Sweet, soft 14 year old eyes-check!

eyebrows waxed-check!

ticket-see, this is where we have run into a snag.


14 year old was going to homecoming with a small group of friends, two of which were from her parochial elementary school so I felt confident that they would be saying a rosary before dancing and grinding. A few boys had asked her to go with them and she had said "no" because, A) she did not like them "that way" and B) sometimes it is fun to say no to boys-it boosts the self esteem. Don't argue with that logic-you know it is true.


Well, last night at the homecoming football game my 14 year old decided that she did not like the way her "date" was treating her and told him to shove off...


So last night at 11pm I heard the story and found out that not only has the group changed a bit, but they have added two more kids to the festivities. Some of the players have changed, but the objective is still the same--wear a pretty dress and put make up on!!!!!
Lord help me...









Friday, September 25, 2009

The Mind Boggles.


Winkers <--click

If ever there was an important reason to eat more twinkies and fried egg sandwiches with mayo, this would be it. Take in every glorious second, Fashionistas. Even you could own a pair of staring eye pants that flinch under the weight of your hefting fundament. Eat up. The more rubenesque your rumpus, the better they wince. If you've got it, paint giant, yellowish, unsymmetrical owl eyes on it and wiggle past all those hooters gals who can't even get their winkers to wink for lack of leg crease. Oh how you could snicker at them.... I personally plan on ordering a pair with a nice set of dentures on each arse cheek. Then I'll wear high heels so that everyone will hear the clicking to go along with the clacking. I'll be the toast of the town.

I'm thinking of selling promotional merchandise for my blog. Any takers?





Happy Birthday, Catherine Zeta-Jones



In an odd turn of fate, Catherine Zeta-Jones played Peggy in the musical- 42nd Street, a character who gets her big break in a Broadway musical when the star breaks her leg & can't go on, when the star of the West End revival became sick, & as understudy, Zeta-Jones went on in her place & became a musical comedy star in Britain. She received an Academy Award, BAFTA, & SAG awards for Best Supporting Actress as Velma Kelly in Chicago, a really great performance in an unexpectedly brilliant film version of one of my favorite musicals. Veta-Jones is newly announced to star on Broadway this season in A Little Night Music (the Husband's favorite Sondheim show). She will play Desirée Armfeldt with Angela Lansbury playing Madame Armfeldt. The production is to be directed by Trevor Nunn. Penned by Stephen Sondheim & Hugh Wheeler, A Little Night Music is loosely based on Ingmar Bergman's film Smiles of a Summer Night (1955). The musical had its first Broadway production in 1973, winning six Tonys, including best musical & original score. I saw it in previews, pre-Broadway, in Boston with the original cast & was enchanted. I went on to play Henrik in A Little Night Music in regional theatre in 1977. The character of Henrik plays the cello. In most productions, the pit orchestra cello plays & the actor mimes the playing of the instrument. Because I play string bass, I was able to actually play the cello in this production. It was very difficult for me to play & sing at the same time. I practiced more than an hour a day for a month. I loved the role, even in a very uneven production. I would love to see Zeta-Jones & my good close personal friend Angela Lansbury in the new production. Trivia: Today is also the birthday of Zeta-Jone's husband- Michael Douglas.

Unbelivable. Stephen as Henrik in A Little Night Music in Spokane circa Autumn 1977.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

A Tweet Here... A Tweet There...

So I have never done MySpace because I have no space that is my own-I can't even shower without a two year old opening the shower door to say hello every 30 seconds so what am I supposed to do with a MySpace account?

I wouldn't know what to do with all the... "Space"

And I did have a facebook account, but I deactivated it and then activated it and then deactivated it and then activated it and then deactivated it again... because that is how I roll. Leave me alone... pay attention to me... leave me alone... pay attention to me... leave me alone. I usually activate it when I get a phone call from a friend who says "Have you seen so-and-so from high school? They look FABULOUS!" and I have to activate my account in order to admire the wonders of plastic surgery.

I opened a twitter account eons ago-but never posted anything. I think I signed up for it so that I could read Ashton Kutchers Tweets about Demi Moore... I can't remember, but I didn't tweet on it because I didn't want anyone stealing my brilliant thoughts-because there are thought stealers out there... and then one day I would be at the movies and enjoying my popcorn and milk duds and the movie would become very familiar to me, almost like deja vous... and then it would dawn on me that the movie was like a window into my brain and all of my thoughts would be played out on the big screen (with Cameron Diaz playing me of course) and I would not receive one royalty check in the mail and still be buying my designer labels at Plato's Closet (which is the greatest store in the world and if you do not have a Plato's Closet in your city... well you are missing out-but if you DO have one, drop what you are doing right now and go shopping!)

ANYWAY...

I decided that my thoughts aren't that earth shattering and I don't think anyone will steal them from my twitter... so I am twittering again, because sometimes I can't make a big ol' blog out of just thin air---although this one seems to be like a fart in the wind doesn't it?

So if you want to follow me and see what I am thinking at random times throughout the day-check it out... HERE

See ya there!

September Songs 3

If, like me, you see autumn as one long, encroaching dusk, then there should be no surprise that today’s recommendations tend towards the wistful.


Hobeken NJ’s Yo La Tengo are the kind of critically adored alt-rockers who release album after album with little hope of radio play. Autumn Sweater should have done the trick, with its lolloping, baggy breakbeat & sweet, tender vocals.


The Kinks' Autumn Almanac, for all its apparent jolly pub-song style, evokes the humdrum & slightly sad outlook on daily English life as smartly as anything else, except maybe Penny Lane by The Beatles.


Abba's has somewhat obscured their talent for melancholy, but When All Is Said and Done is a deliciously bittersweet breakup song, full of regretful reflections: "When the summer's over & the dark clouds hide the sun/Neither you nor I'm to blame when all is said and done."

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

September Songs 2

Today is the first full day of Autumn & although it is 94 & sunny in Portland, I can still feel it & smell it in the morning. The inevitable meloncholy of Autumn is here. I am offering an unlikely pairing of song & singer, one of my very favorite tunes about Autumn- Les Feuilles Mortes with the striking vocals of Mr. Iggy Pop.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Everything's Coming Up Roses

I saw this on my blogger friend Stephen’s (who is also an actor/singer & a Stephen R. with a shaved head) Are You There, Blog? It’s Me, Stephen. The clip is very funny & very frightening at the same time. The kid is really talented & really gay. He reminds me of myself at that age, although Patti was still in high school then & I was doing Carol Channing in front of the bathroom mirror instead of a camera on my computer. Thank God there was not the technology, or I would have been doing all the great musical theatre icons to be broadcast around the world, I am sure.



During the summer of 2001, the Husband & I had a collective mid-life crisis/nervous breakdown pique & we decided to up & move to Portland. In September of 2001, I was regularly taking the train from Seattle to Portland. I would be met by our real estate agent- Celia & she would drive me around all day & look at houses & then I would take the train back to Seattle.

One evening after a long day of house looking, I was seated in Portland’s beautiful & historic Union Station, & I fell into a pleasant, if reserved, conversation with a smartly dressed & handsome lady in her late 60s. When the conversation turned to my being an actor, she told me about her grandson who was making his professional debut in Gypsy at Portland Center Stage. He was 11 years old & she said- “We just don’t know what to make of it. He will spend hours alone in his room playing CDs of Broadway shows. He seems to know every one of them. Sometimes he will improvise a costume & come downstairs & do a couple of numbers complete with choreography for the family & guests. He is really quite talented, but he shows no interest in sports or anything else. Just musicals. For hours. He doesn’t even want to sing in church anymore because they won’t do songs from Le Miz.. He is thrilled to be in the show; he has been doing this since he was 6. What do you make of that?” I turned to her with a sympathetic smile & said- “Grandmother, you are in for some real heartache. What you have is a little gay musical comedy queen for a grandson. Give him lots of love & plenty of applause & everything should be coming up roses.” She then scowled & removed herself from the conversation.

Monday, September 21, 2009

Emmy Awards Wrap Up




I don't actually care who won, because all I care about is Neil Patrick Harris. I am so in love with NPH. After seeing how he brilliantly handled the Tony Awards, I see no reason why he should not be handed the hosting of the Oscars. Cute, sexy, super talented- his opening musical number was amazing, including a long patter song list of the networks that I can't imagine anyone else being able to deliver. My favorite lyric: "Joan (Christina Hendricks) of "Mad Men" could "turn a gay man straight; oh, wait, there's Jon Hamm". I think NPH can do more for gay rights than any speech or any march on Washington DC. Who could resist this man?

I wanted the host to win for Best Supporting Actor, but Jon Cryer's acceptance speech was just what award shows need, less lists of "thank you"s & more "funny", as he jokes that he used to think shiny awards were a shallow measure of popularity, "but now I realize, they are the only true measure of a person's real worth as a human being."

I love Mad Men & 30 Rock, so I was happy with their unsurprising wins. It was weird to have the talented Toni Collette win over the always winning Tina Fey. I loved that tiny Kristin Chenoweth (a fave of the Husband & me) won for Pushing Daises, (which had been canceled). Chenoweth, fighting back tears, announced that she was unemployed "& I would like to be on Mad Men. I also like The Office and 24."
Adorable. But again, I am in love with Neil Patrick Harris. Have his people call my people, please
.

Six Degrees of a Monday Swoon... Sort of.

I went to get my hair cut the other day. It needed it bad-when I see that I am wearing it in a pony seven days a week I know it is time to get my rear in gear and call my stylist.


I love my stylist-I do. She is trendy and hip and absolutely gorgeous, and she is a fairy godmother as well because she can make me go from frumpy to gaw-geous in no time with just a pair of scissors.





*that really is my stylist-she is that beautiful!*


Have I mentioned that she cuts my hair with the same scissors that have cut Chad Kroeger's hair?





I will pause so you can ooohhh and ahhhh.


When Nickelback was in town this past year she was called to do their hair and make up for the video they were filming and she ended up chillin' with the fellas.


When she told me the story I made her write a contract in blood with me stating that when they come back to town and she is called upon again, that she takes me along as her "assistant"


Speaking of Nickelback, did you know they are from Canada?


Many of my favorite rockers have come from Canada~

Brian Adams




Corey Hart





Jeff Healey also came from Canada-and he was in the movie Road House.





With Patrick Swayze.




Patrick Swayze was not from Canada, he was from Houston Texas


and we all know who is from Texas...




But, the main reason for this Six Degrees of Monday Swoon is none of the Swoonables above-it goes back to my hair stylist and the fact that when I was sitting in her "chair of magic" she had some rockin' tunes playing in the background.


It was Theory of a Deadman-who I louvre... and they are from Canada.



And Chad Kroeger gave them a record deal when Tyler Connolly gave him a demo tape at a concert.


And Tyler Connolly is obviously Irish.



So it all makes sense to me.