I Had To Go With An Apprehensive Picture!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                           That is because April has always been an apprehensive month in my family, with all its tragedies.  This particular April ran the gamut--from my father's funeral service, to "A Chorus Line," from the convictions of Bill Cosby and Killer Nanny Ortega, to our Whirlwind Weekend, this month has certainly run the gamut of emotions.

                            I want to offer thanks and apologies at this time.  We are one third of the way through 2018, and it hasn't been an altogether easy time.  Yet I have done my best not to go too Joan Didion on you.  Or Sylvia Plath.

                            Maybe I should close with Gloria Gaynor's "I Will Survive," but I am a bit weary.

                            Tomorrow, we glide into May, which is the month of Mary, and which I promise will open on an up tempo note!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                             See you then, girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Making The Best Of A Sad Day!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                        The day is sad for two reasons.  This marks exactly one year since my childhood friend, Doug, died, and I still have trouble wrapping my head around this, wondering what could have gone wrong with someone who had such potential, and blaming those who know who they are for his disintegration.

                                           If that is not bad enough, today is my father's birthday.  He would have been 103.  Note I said "would," because he died, on February 12, at 102.

                                            So, for the first time since I have been on Earth, none of my parents are here!

                                             And it hurts!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                             Thank God for David, family members left, and friends, both human and animal.

                                              Help me get through this day, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And Here Is Where We Ended Up!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                         As if all this were not enough, we met those two wild and crazy  kids, Dan and Norma--who are from the Upper East Side, so what can you expect????--for dinner at Nomad, at 78 Second Avenue.

                           First of all, let me say that Dan and Norma are the present day version of Marge and Gower Champion.  But I think Norma needs to review steps with Dan, because he seemed door challenged last night.  Or maybe he just needs a refresher class at STEPS, the dance studio!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                           I had never heard of this place, but let me tell you, it was a find.  I had the most delicious vegetable and couscous dish; it was so light and appetizing, and with an exotic gravy, it suited my palette perfectly.

                            David had a chicken and couscous dish, while Dan and Norma both had a salmon dish, and shared a beet salad that also looked appealing to me.  The portions were generous; there was no room for desert.  And the coffee was SO strong!  I just loved it!

                             Hons, at this point, my tail was draggin'!  We all walked over to the subway stop at West Fourth Street, and made our departures.  I was amazed I could keep my eyes open to read, on my way home.

                               So, that was our Whirlwind Weekend!  I can't do this for a long time.

                               But I still have two more posts to write!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And The Day Continued On!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                We did not stop with "The Wizard Oz," darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                  From the Film Forum, we walked east, winding up having a bite to eat at B and H Dairy,  at 127 Second Avenue. From there, we headed over to Theater For The New City, over at 155 First Avenue, to see the Charles Busch play, "The Confession Of Lily Dare."

                                    At first, I wasn't sure if I would make it.  We certainly did not plan things, this way. I believe David bought the tickets for this long before we knew Film Forum would be showing 'Oz.'  And, to make matters worse,  several days before all this, we discovered the Quad Cinema at 8PM, last night, was screening Robert Altman's 1975 masterwork, "Nashville."

                                    Again, decades ago, I could have done it, but not now!

                                   Anyway, the Busch play was fun, with loads of laughs.

                                   As expected, it was packed with movie references.  Let me count what I observed--"San Francisco," "Barbary Coast," "Stella Dallas," "All About Eve," "Show Boat," "The Sin Of Madeloln Caludet,"  any number of Joan Crawford or Susan Hayward vehicles, and, because of the young Lily's opening costume, Hayley Mills in "Pollyanna."

                                   Oh, and the cemetery scenes used as a framing device, between Louis and Emmy Lou, who act as flashback narrators, reminded me of Truman Capote's "Among The Paths To Eden."

                                     But, girls, I am telling you it was a camp riot, with Busch writing some scenes of genuine tenderness.  I must single out Jennifer Van Dyck, whose Aunt Rosalie made prostitution a house of camp horror, and her operatic turn as Louise seemed to channel both Dorothy Comingore in "Citizen Kane," and Blythe Danner!  I kid you not!  While Nancy Anderson with her blonde boop-dee-boop curls, and like sounding voice, seems to parody the early Bernadette Peters!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                      The plot is simple--low class, destitute mother, turns over her daughter to finer folk, and watches her life from afar.  Just like "Stella Dallas" or "To Each His Own."

                                      Thanks to Carl Andress (I don't think he is related to Ursula!!!!--masterful direction, everything  moves at Keystone speed, allowing the actors quite a workout in a short amount of time!  I could tell they relished every bit of it!

                                        I also had no idea yesterday was the closing performance!  Sorry, girls, I so wanted to send you to this one!

                                         But I have a message for Carl Andress--you gotta see me!!!!!!!!!!

                                         I want you direct me in "Portrait Of A Madonna!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                                 

Nothing Beats Seeing A Beloved Film With A Kindred Audience!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                             Let me confess, I have never been to the Film Forum so early!

                             David and I left our home at 9AM on a Sunday morning--when I am usually crawling out of bed to the kitchen, for a cup of coffee--and were seated at approximately ten thirty that morning, while a virtually packed house awaited a screening of "The Wizard Of Oz."

                              And not just one screening.  Knowing the film would draw folks in droves, the Film Forum scheduled another screening, at 11:15 AM, to pacify everyone.

                               Smart move!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                Our audience was ripe for the viewing.

                                 The lights went down.  The screen was black.  Suddenly, the image of the roaring MGM lion filled the screen, and then those magic words--

                                   Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer
                                                presents

                                                 

                                        At which point the audience did exactly what was expected--burst out into applause, raucous whistles, and cheers.  I knew I was seeing this film with a kindred audience.

                                         They did all the right things--

                                          Silently applauded after "Over The Rainbow."

                                           Booed when Miss Gulch first appears.

                                           Cheered when Toto escapes from the basket.

                                            Laughed when Toto snatches Professor Marvel's hot dog!

                                            Laughed at Professor Marvel's two famous lines--regarding the

Crown Heads of Europe--"Do you know any?' and reminding Dorothy her aunt's name is

 "Emily."

                                              Gasping when the cyclone finally sets down Dorothy's house.

                                              Same when that door opens and the color floods in.

                                              Clapping upon Bert Lahr's entrance as the Cowardly Lion.

                                              Cheering when the Witch melts.

                                               Tears upon Dorothy's departure, and final line.

                                               A tumultuous burst of thanks filled applause, at the end!

                         
                              It went exactly as a "Wizard Of Oz" screening should go.  We were joined by my friends Audrey, and Ruby, her daughter, both of whom, I believe, were seeing it on the big screen for the first time. I believe I heard Ruby comment how overwhelmed she was by the size of the images.

                              The audience was mostly adult, but some did bring children.  The best comment came from one of them.  When Miss Gulch was taking away Toto, and some kids were getting upset, a little girl down front cried out, "Don't worry; Toto will be all right!"

                               Few films captivate an audience like this one.  To think it turns 80, next year!!!!!!!!!!!!

                               We all just started the celebration a year early!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!                      

                                     
                                             

A Very Special Birthday Party, On Saturday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                  This was an event, not to be missed.  At world famous Paws Truly pet goods store, on Third Avenue and 76th Street, in Bay Ridge, David and I just HAD to go to the double party, celebrating both Seamus' and Sparky's birthdays.

                                    That is Seamus, and my readers have seen him on here before. He is as lovable as he looks, and while Michael and Deirdre Butler, who run the store, and hosted the party, do all the work, Seamus is the star, crowd pleaser, and really runs the show.  He is so good natured. I just love him.

                                      Now, Sparky, I know, feels a bit upstaged by Seamus.  She, who turned 21, sits in a cage near the back of the store.  At first, Sparky, a parrot, and smaller than what I am used to seeing, was very reserved with me.  But now, she and I are bonding, like I did with my beloved Bacci. She takes food from me, and when I go up to the cage, listens carefully to what I say, and trills at me, as though carrying on a conversation.  Once, she even said "Hello!" to me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                       I tried to give Sparky equal time Saturday, as the party was at the store's front, and Seamus, being quite mobile and agile, can navigate the space.  Sparky can't, so when she squawked for some attention, I gave her some.

                                        As David said, this party was the unofficial start of the Summer season!!!!!!!!!!!

                                        Interestingly, on Sunday morning, just before we headed out the door for yesterday's excursions, which were something, our resident nun of choice, Sister Camille D'Arienzo, did a lovely commentary on how comforting animals can be to us.  She mentioned the comfort a cat gave her, while her sister was hospitalized, and she honored this in all animals, service, or otherwise.

                                         Well, Sister Camille, I don't know if you have been reading this blog, or not, but I can concur the amount of comfort I have gotten from so many animals in this neighborhood, who seem to recognize when I am blue, particularly during my father's passing, and offered me support and affection.  Even Cujo, the boxer I adore on 77th Street, whom I had not seen since before Christmas, made a special appearance during this time.  It was like he knew to come out on his terrace to console me.

                                            Saturday's party was a blast!  Seamus had his share of cookies, and Sparky had some crackers.  Love and happiness to them both!

                                             And to all animals, who help and console!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

        

                                         I have GOT to get a picture of Sparky on here, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Back To School Night.........At Bay Ridge Prep!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                             When David told me he wanted to see "The Drowsy Chaperone," at Bay Ridge Prep, I heaved a sigh.  Don't get me wrong, darlings; I saw the original production, back in 2006--oh, my God, has it really been twelve years?--and while the show is cute as all get out, I did not relish seeing it done by a high school cast!!!!!!  And, after my horrors during those years, sitting within the confines of a high school auditorium--which turned out also to be a gym!!!!!!!!--made my skin crawl.

                              But, like the song says, "the things we do for love."  I am so glad I did.

                              I don't know where David stuffed the program, so I cannot single out many people, as I don't know the names, but I will do what I can.

                              This school mounted an excellent production of the show.  It speaks well of the Music and Theater departments, because the entire cast was so versed in the history, culture, and aesthetic tastes of musical theater, I am convinced some serious studying must be done.

                               The credit here must go to the director, Cait Hynes, Musical Director Dr. Aaron Patterson, and the choreography by Mrs. Margaret Capotoro, and Dr. Noreen Stewart.  These two were especially adept at staging period dances, and adjusting them to the various levels of the students.  By the way, the students are superb.  Two of them, particularly, the young man who played George, and the actress who played the Sutton Foster originated role of Janet Van De Graaff, should head for theater programs.  Their singing and dancing skills were standouts, and they made "Show-Off" and "Cold Feet" true show stoppers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                               Credit must go to the full orchestra, who played the score to perfection, and and the production design team, who not only honored the period of both the show and the Man In The Chair's apartment, but incorporated a wonderful walk around the stage, and out into the audience, recalling the one now on display on Broadway at the Shubert, in "Hello, Dolly!!!!!!!!!"  And it was used well!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                               Seeing Bay Ridge Prep's "The Drowsy Chaperone" made me not only remember how good a show it actually is, but gave me some new insights into the Man In The Chair, superbly played by Griffin Wolf.

                            Here he is.  Now, the way I recalled this role is that this character was representative of all Theater Queens, like us, out in the audience.  At first, with his unusual look, I thought Mr. Wolf was an adult.  But no, he is a student, but quite touching, on an adult level.  The loneliness he projects and his love of theater goes beyond Queenship, and into darker channels, like Lucretia Collins in Tennessee Williams' "Portrait Of A Madonna."  It had always been my understanding that this character was meant to be gay.  But, no; at  one point, the character mentions having been married, and when some of us expressed surprised, queried, "You just assumed.....?"

                            Of course I did.  I mean, I am a gay Theater Queen, and so are my contemporaries.  So, now I had something to wrap my head around--is the guy a big closet case?  No, because if he were, he would ashamed of his unabashed love for musical theater.  Hell, my father liked musicals, and he was not gay; he was A-1 Catholic!!!!!!!!!!!!!   I was no Bernadette, that is for sure.  More like Bernadette Peters!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                              I had completely forgotten the character was straight, believing what I wanted to believe.  But, hey, straight people can act, and can do musical theater!  I have worked with many!

                              So many people have told me, Mr. Wolf's role would be perfect for me.  Now, I concede that, especially as the character gets to live out his fantasy, and sing with the cast, near the end!!!!!!!!

                             Who would have expected dramatic insight from what is, essentially, a fun musical????????  A lot of work went into this, and I salute those involved!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                              And, yes, I wanted to get right up there, and join them!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This Looks Like Me, After This Weekend!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                          No, dears,  I did not go on a bender, like Blanche Du Bois.  But I am certainly feeling my age,  It has been ages since  I had a weekend like this last--going, going,  and now I feel so GONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!  There was a time, thirty, even twenty, years before, when such weekends were, if not so much the norm, things I could easily bounce back from, bounding into the workplace on Monday with energy to spare.  Now, at my age, I am hunched over this computer, exhausted, bleary eyed, and am about to give you an account of all that transpired.

                           Thank God I am retired!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                           So stay tuned for the next several posts.  If I can write them!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"I Spy" With My Little Eye....A Sexual Predator!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                             Girls, I am telling you, I never swallowed all that publicity pap about Bill Cosby.
From "I Spy," to those nauseating Jello-Pudding commercials, to that phonier than thou sitcom he dominated air waves with for a time--and I always felt sorry for Phylicia Rashad, as I always felt she knew the truth--I never bought into his holier than thou image.  I had a sense trouble was lurking somewhere.

                              It was, and it came out. And justice was done, in, of all places, Norristown, PA.  Which, of all things, I happen to know, being that I is where David and I bus into when visiting my sister, in nearby Audubon.

                               Norristown is a den of vice and corruption.  You should see the drug addicts, dealers, and prostitutes hanging out at the bus station, evenings when we pull in.  Not that these folk cannot be found at most bus stations across America, but I find this one especially isolating and creepy.  No good can come from staying there too long.

                                 So, it was highly apt that this celebrity was brought down in a place like this.  The cult of celebrity did no good here; justice over rode it.  I don't know what is  in store for Cosby next.  I am not sure if he will see a prison cell.  I hope he does, but even if not, he forever stands convicted of sexual assault.  He is a predator.  Will he have to register as a sex offender?  I am not sure how young his youngest victim was.

                                  Cosby was a phony from the start.  Now, America finally knows it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                  Take your medicine, and choke on it, Bill!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

How Could Forget, Darlings????????????????

                                 With so much having gone on this year, and still going, it nearly eluded me that last week marked the 50th Anniversary of the Broadway opening of "HAIR."

                                  I can't believe it!  I was just 13 when this took place, and here I am, writing about it, at 63!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                   The liner notes of the Original Broadway Cast album I was raised on said April 28, 1968 was the opening night. Playbill Online said the 29th.  I am going with what I learned first--April 28, 1968, at the Biltmore Theatre!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                      And, yes, that is Shelley Plimpton in her iconic moment of singing "Frank Mills."  So, it is no secret, knowing me, what this post will end with!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                       Fifty years, post "HAIR."  I am amazed to have lived to see it!!!!!!!!!!!

                                        Here is Shelley Plimpton, Martha's mom, a half century ago!

                                        When we were all young, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This May Be The Strangest Story I've Ever Told, On Here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                             Coming on the heels of Tennessee Williams and "A Streetcar Named Desire," it is not surprising this should resurface in my memory.

                              Years before I met David--I would say maybe at least fifteen years ago--I was an habitue, at the LGBT Center, on West 13th Street.  Nothing unusual about that; if one were gay, lonely, needed support, or activity involvement, it was the natural place to go.

                                Finding me there during that period of my life was not unusual.  But what happened one night was.

                                The way I recall it, I just ducked in there one night--a week night--to use the facilities, before getting on the subway ride to back home, which, then, I believe, was Woodside, Queens.

                                 I had walked out of the first floor Men's Room, and was getting ready to leave, when I was approached by a middle aged married couple, and their apparently teen aged son.  What followed next was not expected.

                                  The parents seemed kindly and gentle.  The boy seemed accepting of the situation.  Now, I can be a bitch on here, sometimes, but I am genuinely good hearted, and maybe they sensed this.  Because they walked right up to me, a complete stranger, albeit gay, and asked if I would "take" their son.

                                    Let me make clear they were not procuring him, or offering him as sex traffic.  Though they never spoke above a hushed whisper, I sort of gleaned the situation--their son was gay, they could not, or, most likely, did not want to  handle it, and so they wanted, someone, anyone, to take him off their hands.

                                    Well, I have to confess, I was speechless.  I also considered it for just a second, but then reality set in--Who was this kid?  Maybe it was more than just being gay, he could also be violent and dangerous.  And I was hardly equipped to raise a teen!  I could barely take care of myself!
A pet would have been out of the question at the time, yet alone an adolescent gay boy!!!!!!!!!

                                       I kept refusing, they kept imploring, until I realized the only solution was just to walk out.  I fled; fortunately, I was not followed.

                                        But this has stayed in my mind all these years.  This was an act, because all that gentility on the parents' part masked hatred, and they boy's acceptance masked a broken heart.

                                         I have no idea where they were from, but it was not New York.  They did not have the savvy of urban dwellers, who, faced with this situation, might have considered more sensible channels to pursue if they wanted to disown their child.

                                         Not that people in New York like this don't exist.  But their dress, their manner, suggested a good deal's distance from here.

                                        Which makes me wonder how such unsophisticated folk as they would have even known about the LGBT Center!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                          As time receded, I was, and still am, haunted by these events!  What kind of parents would walk into a strange place, and offer their child to a total stranger?  Who knows what happened, after I left?  And who knows who that boy ended up with?  At least, I was not a pedophile or killer.  But could they be sure the next person approached wasn't?  Did they even care?

                                          I still think about this, years later.  I wonder what happened to that poor, unfortunate boy--a Tyler Clementi type--and hope he found acceptance and peace, putting distance between this cruel duo, who were undeserving of him as a son!

                                           This marked a new low in what I had heard, and now seen, in the spectrum of parents rejecting their gay children!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                            I shall never forget this. And never stop wondering about that boy, and those parents!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Could This Have Been What Belle Reve Looked Like??????????????

                               This painting. or drawing, has a dreamy, illusory quality that makes it a perfect representation of the Du Bois plantation.  The name "Belle Reve" means "beautiful dream," and who just wouldn't love, like Blanche, to stay here, and take hot baths for one's nerves?????????

                               Let's face it, darlings, I may be more defensive than Blanche, but I am just one big Plantation Princess, too.  I love the architecture and lifestyle, but the heat kills me!  No wonder Blanche had to take so many baths.  And no air conditioning, back then!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                Yes, loves, Belle Reve may be only a dream, but it is one all can love.

                                 Who can blame Blanche, in her mind, for wanting to stay there?????????????

Let's Talk About Books, Darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                     This novel is no walk in the park, but it is absorbing reading.

                                      The novel's descriptions of the impoverishment of its Indian characters is so palpable, one can almost see and sense the smell of rotting garbage and sewage.  If you think being a spinster in America is bad, unwanted women have it worse.  I am not just talking about the plain, but the disabled, in all senses, who have no marital prospects.  So, they are bartered off for a year to a man in a mock marriage, just so he can obtain a passport to live abroad.

                                       And if he is lucky to get abroad--in this case, England--he is lucky is he can find work, due to discrimination and class indifference, which is just as bad in England as India.

                                       "The Year Of The Runaways" covers that period of time with a group of several families who endure these very experiences.  It is gorgeously written, but heartbreaking, yet I could not pull away from it, because I cared so much about the characters.

                                         Earlier, I wrote about looking for a book to sweep me away, and hons, I am telling you, this is it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                          It is sweeping, deeply moving, and compassionate.

                                          Put it on your reading list, at once!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This Is The "Kiss My Fuckin' Ass" Subway Bitch!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                               Unfortunately, darlings, she has her back to the camera.  But, I will try and provide her video performance, which has to be seen to be believed.

                                If ten dollars were placed in my hand for every time she said "kiss my fuckin' ass," I could go to the box-office of the Imperial Theatre in Manhattan, and get full priced tickets to
"Carousel."

                                It is scenes like these that make me so glad I do not have to ride the subway every day.  Because, the more one does, the greater the odds of running into one of these types.  I was attacked, when I lived in Woodside--this was back in 2006--when a Long Island hipster guy, who would not stop playing his music, was annoying an old lady--we were on the #7 train-- and I stuck up for her.  He amped it up louder, and when he got off at my stop--probably to connect to the LIRR, I confronted him, and he attacked, me, going so far as to pursue me to the street where, thinking he was going to punch me in the face, grabbed at my glasses, threw them, and ran.

                                  Someone kindly handed them to me, but no one came to my aid during the confrontation.  The transit booth person called the cops, who kindly walked me to my apartment, with a reminder not to confront garbage like this on the subway.  They were right.

                                  But the lady here.  She has the nerve to call herself, at one point, "classy," because let me tell you she is so G-H-E-T-T-O!!!!!!!!!  Right out of "Random Family!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                                   Garbage like this should not be allowed to ride the subways, or infringe on people's privacy.  She talks about violation of her rights!   What about everyone else's rights?  You are NOT Angela Davis, sweetie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                    I am telling you, the subway just isn't a train anymore.

                                    It is more like a traveling asylum!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                    I was not able to provide the video here.  But it can still be seen.  Just go on YouTube and type in "Subway Rage During Morning Commute!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                                   She should have been smacked, and told to kiss everyone else's ass!

                                   But who would want her that close?????????????????

What A Fucking Bitch!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                          Colleen Campbell may not be as bad as whom I call the "Kiss My Fuckin' Ass Subway Bitch," but this skank thing from Philly is enough to be named this week's winner of The Raving Queen Bitch Of The Week Award.

                             Just look at the attitude on that face!  You can tell she is a bitch, from the get go!

                            This mother ho', would you believe is a graduate in Journalism, from Temple?  I almost went there for the same thing, back in the Seventies.  Shows how low their standards have come to admit garbage like this.  Colleen is no graduate of Miss Porter's or some Chestnut Hill Main Liner.  She main lines, all right!  She probably was raised among prostitutes on the streets of Kensington, amid crack vials and pipes!  Who the hell do you think you are, Colleen!

                             And this tramp bargained her way into Channel PHL-17, for a first job that her behavior one Sunday eve, outside a bar in Center City, which she patronized and then drank herself into a stupor, but not enough to knock her out, got her eventually fired from!!!!!!!! All this started back on the evening of June 4, 2017!  When a cop confronts her on her behavior, what does she do?  She tells him to lick her A-hole, calls him a cocksucker, and I would not be surprised if some racial epithets were hurled!  Real classy, bitch!!!!!!!

                            Miss Wrong Side Of The Tracks is not so high and mighty now, is she??????  Hey, Colleen, why don't you team up with that other piece of garbage, Rose McGowan, and do an a bitch rant!  What else have got to do, anyway??????????

                             Now, darlings, I hear Colleen has said she has been getting death threats, over this.
That is going a bit too far.  Her A-hole behavior is not heinous enough to merit death; just a night in jail or a padded cell for making a fool of herself!!!!!!!!!!!!

                               Congrats, Colleen, on being a first class bitch!

                                How does it feel to be out bitched by a bitch???????????????

                                Take a look at this piece of trash!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now, Here Is A Haunting Sight!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                           With "Carousel" now back on Broadway, my fascination with abandoned amusement parks, or attractions, has been revived.  I don't know where this was, but how enticing is the design.  It makes me want to walk into it, right now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                             There should be a museum for such things.  From all over the world!  Now, there is a project I would love to work on!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                               This Devil looks so much fun!   Who could resist him?

                                We might come out, looking like Barbara Steels, as Asa, girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Corporatization Of Manhattan Has Made It Difficult For Individuals To Come Here, And Re-Invent Themselves!!!!!!!!!!

                                   Like Blanche Du Bois, Rollerena, doyenne of the Manhattan camp tier social scene in the Eighties and Nineties, was the embodiment of self-invention.  I always thought--and still do--that he is, secretly, my move mad friend, Harvey.  The other rumor I have heard is that Rollerena was some downtown Wall Streeter.  What a joke on corporate America that would be.

                                     But there is no room for jokes and senses of humor anymore, because Manhattan has become such a corporate beehive where its denizens take themselves SO seriously, they might as well have sticks up their asses.  And I could name you several, who do!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                       What ever happened to Rollerena?????????  If you lived here, during the Eighties or Nineties, you were privy to a sighting.  But now, where has she gone?  Is she even still alive?

                                          Worse yet, I know there are aspiring Rollerenas, or those who yearn for self-invention, out there, but Manhattan culture does not allow for such at this point in time.  In some ways, we are back to the era of 'Streetcar' where any expression of individuality is branded as insanity, with those confined, like Blanche, to institutions.

                                            Well, I say, listen to Blanche.  "Don't hang back with the brutes!"  Times change, the pendulum will swing, and those honchos who think they are so on top of the world are going to topple and fall.  It is something to hope for!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                              May I live to see the re-emergence of Rollerena!  This sort of spirited vivacity is desperately needed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You Didn't Know Blanche, As A Girl! No One Was As Tender Or Trusting, As She Was! But People Like You Abused Her, And Forced Her To Change!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                                 The recent exhibit, on Tennessee Williams, at the Morgan, got me to thinking not only about Blanche, 'Streetcar', and the two women who embody the role--Jessica Tandy and Vivien  Leigh--but all the Blanches still out there, which I sometimes include myself among.

                                  So, let us discuss this.  There is not much to go on regarding Tandy's performance, except photos, and 29 minute series of excerpts to be heard on You Tube,

                                   These photos illustrate the heartbreak of Blanche.  Tandy is less attractive than Leigh, so she comes off as more faded, more damaged, as an unattractive spinster falls into the clutches of alcoholism and nymphomania--before being destroyed, in calculated fashion, by her brother-n-law.  Look at the heartbreak on Tandy's face. She is in glorious character as the broken Blanche, and her performance must have been shattering.

                                     Now, Vivien Leigh's attractiveness would draw the men Blanche craved, but in the end, she knew she was being used. She thinks she is in control, which, is why, at the close, her Blanche seems to have more strength.  By the time she walks through that room a final time, she has eyes for no one but the doctor.  Though Kazan turns his camera on the sadness of Mitch, who shares complicity in her destruction, she has no idea he exists.  And, when the camera goes around the corner, past the Four Deuces, Blanche is seen, almost resigned and accepting to what lies before her. Which makes her even more tragic than Tandy--once Blanche arrives at the mental hospital, what is there left of life for her?  Vivien's Blanche makes viewers wonder how things continued for her after the story's end.

                                   Stella is also a tragic figure.  There is no doubt in my mind that she knows Blanche is telling the truth--that Stanley raped her sister.  But she is as trapped as Blanche--and with a baby yet!!!!!!!!!!  Blanche had no place to go, but was on her own.  Stella would have faced the same, but with a baby--and consider the time of the story!!!!!!!!!!  Both sisters caught in a trap, set for both, by Stanley!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                     Am I Blanche?  I wonder.  As Vivien Leigh drives off in the car, there is a semblance of Scarlett's strength, seen in those eyes, that will enable her to deal with what she must.  Sometimes I think I have that, myself, but sometimes I am as fearful about being left alone as Blanche is, and having to face the realities of a corporatized world I simply do not approve of.  Like Blanche, I simply will not "hang back with the brutes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                                     And yes, when young, I was as tender and trusting as Blanche.  I never  lost my capacity to love, but what happened to that innocent lad who believed in the goodness of everything, until around junior high???????????   Did I become stronger?  Or weaker?

                                      I wrote, awhile back, about being Savannah Wingo in "The Prince Of Tides," a true descendant of Blanche.  Maybe it is not so much my being them, as knowing where they have come from.  I have empathy for both characters, and have experienced, in smallest similarities what they have experienced.  Similarities, to a degree, we all, more or less, share.

                                     Now Savannah, despite the suicide attempts, finds strength, just as Vivien's Blanche is seen summoning the strength to deal with what is at hand.  They are survivors.  In some ways, I feel that I am, too.  But I don't like my survivorship being tested!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                      Blanche's most heartbreaking line is in her monologue about Allen Grey, when she says "And then the searchlight which had been turned on the world was turned off again, and never, for once moment since has there been any light that's stronger than this kitchen candle."  Blanche lost more than Allen; she lost her capacity to love, in one act of cruelty, which she can never forgive herself for, and has deprived her of the capacity to love.

                                       I have never lost that capacity.  My heart goes out to Blanche.  I have actually seen, someone, a childhood friend, not unlike she, disintegrate before my eyes.

                                        I pray I have the courageous Blanche in me, and not the self-destructive one!!!!!!!!!!!

                                   

Time To Welcome A New Reader, Girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                          Always glad to have a new reader on board.  I have no idea of whom that may be, so I will just call said individual No. 72, as the follower indicator now is up to that number.

                         The year has been a rough one, what with my father's passing, so I will try not to go all Joan Didion.  There is still plenty of gossip, fashion, and camp, to discuss.  If you peruse the last couple months, I think you will see I have tried my best to maintain a balance!!!!!!!!!!!!

                          And, of course this blog goes great, with coffee.  I never write, without it!!!!!!!!!!

                           So, welcome, No. 72, feel free to comment, and now, this blog's unofficial theme song!!!!!!!!!!!

                            Enjoy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What The Hell Is A Chocolate Brazilian Wax?????????????????

                         On my way to the D train platform, around the corner from the Waverly Diner, in the Village today, I passed a spa offering this--a Chocolate Brazilian Wax.  Now, hons, I was not born yesterday, but just what the hell is it?  Is it some kind of sex fetish thing, where you get to lick the chocolate off you, or the one who gives it to you.

                          How fresh is that chocolate?????????  And how hot does that wax get?  It could sting and itch, at the same time.  Not to mention feeling your body is chocolate covered all day.

                           I have to admit, it sounds intriguing.  But, girls, if you really want a chocolate experience, stick with mine--licking the pudding remainder from the bowl, with a spoon!!!!!!!!!!!

                            Lots more fun, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh, God! I Almost Forgot What Day It Was!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                             How could I not blog in, and let readers know today is BARBRA's birthday??????????  She has seen better days, still sounds good, and is with us, at 76,  Mr. Brolin has his work cut our for him today, as BARBRA stuffs an entire tube of coffee ice cream!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                              Get out your vinyl, CD's, or DVD's.  "Funny Girl," "Hello, Dolly!<" or what ever you desire.  Even if is "Enough Is Enough," with Donna Summer!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                Here is Camp BARBRA, mugging it up with Louis Armstrong, who very nearly steals the moment from her!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 Enjoy!  This should be declared a Gay National Holiday!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                  Someday, it will be!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I Want My Own Collection Of Legionaire Stauetttes!!!!!!!!! With The Sixties Costumes I Remember!!!!!!!!!!!!

                            Color reigned supreme in the DC Comics of my Sixties childhood.  And it was never put into better use than in designing the costumes for the Legion Of Super-Heroes!!!!!!!!!!

                              Back when he was in Smallville, Superboy had all these statues in his basement. When they all lit up, that meant he was being summoned to the 30th Century, to help the legion with an assignment.

                               I most wanted to be Lightning Lad.  It was the combine of red hair, blue and orange and gold, and that cape!!!!!!!!!  And to have electric bolts flashing from my hands, at will.

                              But I went for the most colorful costumes, of course--Saturn Girl, Cosmic Boy (pink, darlings!!!!!!!!!), Element Lad (who was gay!), Sun Boy, and, of course, Saturn Girl!!!!!!!!!!

                               When the legion was modernized, it lost its charm.  And I loved Shrinking Violet's fashion green, and necklace!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 How I would love to these statuettes for myself!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 But, then, Baby Gojira might get jealous.  No one is as colorful as he!!!!!!!!!!!!

Did Cucumbo Invent The Drone??????????????????

                            I always thought Cucumbo, the star of the 1956 classic, "It Conquered The World," defied gender.  Sure, there was these things coming out from under his veggie dress, but if the creature had been female, it would have been named "Cucumbette!"

                             But, really, look at this baby thing.  The eyes suggest a baby Cucumbo, and while it may look cute here, there is nothing cute about when it flies into action.

                              Which caused me to notice the resemblance to today's drones, and wondered--were they invented by Cucumbo????????????

                                Poor Cucumbo!  If any monster on the AIP lot deserved a second movie, it was he!!!!!!!!!!!!  And now, no royalties, for having invented the drone!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 Cucumbo, you wuz robbed!  File a lawsuit immediately!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The REAL Bitch, In "Blood Of Dracula," Is Doris!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                         "Blood Of Dracula," AIP's 1957 camp classic of girlish high jinks, which should really have been titled "I Was A Teenage Vampire," would definitely be one film I would feature on my "Spook Show" lineup.

                            It opens with a hoot, almost parodying those social service films of the Fifties.  A car is en route, taking Nancy Perkins, who has just lost her mother, six months before, to a girls private school, a real lesbo enclave, run by a Miss Thorndyke (Wink! Wink!).  Sandra Harrison, the frumpy, over aged teen in the yellow rain slicker, tries to run the car off the road.

                             Her father slaps her, and slutty Doris, played brilliantly by Jean Dean, delivers the film's opening line--"Give her another one!"

                             Doris is as cheap as they come.  Hey, she's appearing in an AIP film, so that is cheap, for starters. You can bet her jewels and fur are fake.  But not her slutty voice, and her round heels attitude.  Doris wants Nancy ditched, so she can drain Daddy of everything.  It is not clear if she was a secretary, or some floozy in a sleazy bar.  I would go with the latter.  She has the class and manners of one.

                               It is a pity Doris disappears from the scene, after Nancy lands at school. Because once repressed lesbian Chemistry teacher, Miss Branding, played by Louise Lewis, resident bitch until Louise Fletcher came along, turns Nancy into a stylishly glam vampire monster, with the most fabulous make-up this side of Elizabeth Arden, I would have loved to have seen Nancy, in monster form, confront Doris, and the two go at each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Bet Doris would have ended up in some back alley, which she was destined for!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                               But, honestly, girls, when it comes to bitches, this film almost outdoes itself!!!!!!!!!

                                What a hoot Jean Dean is, as Doris!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                  The Bitch Meter on this film is definitely off the charts!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Good News, Girls!!!!!!!!!!!!! Amy Is Coming Back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                           Now, I don't exactly know when, as the scripts have not been written, or the cameras turned on.  And I wonder what kind of outfits Amy will wear!!!!!!!!!!!

                            But the magical enchantment that was "At Home With Amy Sedaris," courtesy of Amy Sedaris, has been renewed for a second season.  And while it has only committed itself to ten episodes, that is ten times the Amy we are getting now.  Say "thank you" to Tru TV!!!!!!!!!!

                              I cannot wait to see Amy.  But I also cannot wait to see Patty Hogg, Nutmeg, The Lady Who Lives In The Wood, and Esther!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                               So, keep an eye out for Amy, dolls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                               Talent like hers cannot be kept down!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I Just Love Jake, The Dog, On The "Seresto" Commericial!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                               Jake is the latest commercial performer to capture my heart. He is so cute.  He just loves bringing neighbors' trophies to his owner.

                                He looks almost as sweet as my Cujo!!!!!!!!!  If only Cujo had gotten this job.  He could do it!

                                But Jake is so adorable.  Who wouldn't love him?

                                 He has a big career ahead of him!

                                 Maybe he could appear with Amy Sedaris!  Or Colbert!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 Here is an excerpt with Jake.  Seresto should put diamonds on its flea collars!!!!!!!!!

Wish We Could All Look This Good, Talking On The Phone, Girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                            That, of course, is Gloria Grahame.  I don't know the movie this is from, but who cares, when she looks this good?

                               I try my best to look this way whenever I chat on the phone, but sometimes it is hard for us mortals who aren't Gloria.  Truth to tell, girls, I am glad land line phones don't have features where we can be seen.  I would look less like Gloria, and more like a nightmare!

                                 But the truth is, it would cut down on phone sex, revealing truths no civilized person would want to see?  Like geriatrics getting their jollies?????????  Ewwwwwwwwwww!!!!!!!!!

                                  No, I will stick to looking like Gloria!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                  And those shoes!  Aren't they fabulous???????

                                 But, then, Gloria had the legs to go with them!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"The Story Goes That Grandma Was Best/At Shootin' Bullets Off A Rustler's Vest/Shootin' Bullets Off A Rustler's Vest!!!!!!!"

                             Ah, the carefree innocence of Saturday night Sixties TV.  Remember "Pistols 'N' Petticoats," darlings?

                             It ran from 1966-67, with its lead star, Ann Sheridan, appearing in only 23 episodes. as the actress succumbed to cancer, before the show was canceled.  Ruth McDevitt, the store owner from "The Birds," played Grandma, the subject of those brilliant lyrics--the kind theme songs don't have, anymore--and outlived Sheridan!!!!!!!!!!!!

                              The connection was "Petticoat Junction," which was the better and more successful of the two.  This would follow right after--or maybe before--'Junction," but had the connection of "Petticoats."

                                How I wanted to be Lori Saunders as Bobbie Jo Bradley on the other show, peeking out of that water tank on a hot Summer's day!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 But this second show was fun. Almost like "Annie Get Your Gun," minus the music.

                                Here is the opening credits, and theme song, to this overlooked classic!

                                Enjoy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Trash, With A Twist!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                             I love the deceptive simplicity of the cover art for this novel.  It sets the tone for the novel within.

                                              The Cavendishes are a wealthy, London based family.  Their marriage is dysfunctional, but they plow along.  The reader soon learns Laura has suffered two traumas in her life--the death of her beloved cocker spaniel, as a child, and the premature death of the couple's first child, Rose, only  days after she was born.  So, when she feels granted a second chance, with the birth and life of her son, Daniel, she holds onto him almost as fiercely as Mrs. Bates, in "Psycho."  Although this is not apparent on the surface.  Nothing is.  Which makes this novel so interesting.

                                               Now, contrast this family with the Laines, who live in a town called Croydon, sort of a British Goat Alley!!!!!!!!!!!  Wendy, a middle-aged mother, works in a supermarket, and does the best she can.  However, her daughter, who calls herself Cherry, though it is never learned what her real name is, resents, like Haley Sadler, on 'SVU,' who she is, and where she comes from.  Which she tells her mother to her face!  And slaps her!  I felt so sad for Wendy.

                                               Cherry manages to talk her way into a posh real estate office near the Cavendish residence.  This is not intentional, but when she and Daniel finally cross paths, and sparks fly, everything is intentional on Cherry's part.  But her behavior cannot be proven, at least to  the characters.

                                                Before one can say "Fatal Attraction," the novel deviates when Laura, the  mother, makes a pivotal decision, and everything is turned on its head.  This is a page turner that adds a bit of the unpredictable to what is, on the surface, a very predictable story.  By the time the climax is reached, who is good  or evil becomes blurred.

                                                  This was such fun, girls.  But, at the end, I felt sorry for son, Daniel.

                                                   Though a grown man, and a med student, it looks like he is doomed to play Oedipus to her Jocasta!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                   Chilling!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!