Thursday, May 31, 2018

And So....Farewell To May!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                   I am closing this month--five already; where has the time gone?--with the above, because the big event, this month,  was my father's internment on May 14, (incidentally, the 41st anniversary of my graduation from Seton Hall, which both my mother and he were present for) still a very hard thing for me to write about and process.  I can only say I am glad to have lived this long, for my parents' sake, because there was a time, early in my life, when they thought I might not.

                                     But May was filled with other things--Julie Andrews espousing the month in the song from "Camelot," the opening of "MAME" on May 24, a trip to Cape May, on May 5, seeing the brilliant Marin Ireland in "Summer And Smoke," down at the CSC.

                                       And I think this month accounts for the most posts I have written in a month this year.

                                        Who could imagine?

                                          And tomorrow, we are already in June--lots of birthdays, the TONY Awards, and, to the "Carousel" company, The Raving Queen is attending on Sunday, June 24--Gay Pride!!!!!!!!!!!!  What could be better!  So, be on your toes, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                          As for the rest of you twinklers, I will see you, next month!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You Can't Go Wrong With Jennifer McMahon!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                         Suspenseful and absorbing, each Jennifer McMahon book I read keeps getting better and better.  It literally held me to the edge of my seat, wondering what would happen to Vera Dufrane, her daughter, Regina (Reggie), and her friend, Tara.  Then there was that creepy Lorraine.  About thirty years ago, had this been filmed, Lorraine would have been a perfect role for Louise Fletcher!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                          I picked this title up on the Staff Recommends kiosk at The Strand.  I was not even aware of this book, but I was aware of Jennifer McMahon.

                                           There is a serial killer, which thrilled me, and McMahon's skill is in being able to maneuver the reader skillfully enough so they do not guess who it is.  She stumped me once again, which is no easy task.

                                              Though I will say this.  When the killer is actually identified, (and it was not whom I thought it to be) it justified my theoretical rubric behind the film "Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri."  At the end of the film, I knew the characters were riding to get the wrong guy, because I fervently hold to the belief that whomever killed Frances McDormand's daughter was someone still living in that town.  I always suspected the Desk Sergeant, played by Zeljko Ivanek.

                                                 Those who need fun in their Summer reading will find it with Jennifer McMahon.  After perusing some other titles listed at the end, I know I have more to look forward to.

                                                   That bucket list keeps getting longer, and longer, dolls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This Bitch Is Literally Full Of Shit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                    Before getting to the topic at hand, girls, I feel obligated to say something about Roseanne.  I have just two simple words.

                                      Who cares?  Bet you thought they would be something else.

                                       Well, yeah, that, too.  But I never was a fan of Roseanne, who, by the success of her show, helped in reducing us to a White Trash nation, by glorifying it each week.  Fat pig has been asking for it, now she gets what she deserves.

                                         Enough.  I have said my piece.

                                         The winner of this week's Raving Queen Bitch Of The Week Award has been unidentified in the media, so I shall call her Miss Poop Deck.  If you thought Roseanne was disgusting--and she is--this outdoes her completely.

                                           At a Tim Hortons store, in Langley, British Columbia, about a week and a half ago, Miss Poop Deck, who has a history of bad behavior, with the store, walked in, and asked a clerk to use the restroom.

                                            Management denied her because of her past behavior, and nothing else.

                                            What followed was so scatological I could not watch the video, nor, for
the sake of taste, will I post it on here.  Describing it is bad enough.

                                             Miss Poop Deck retaliated by, in front of the cashier, pulling down her pants, and doing her business right there on the floor, visible to everyone.

                                              Already I know what you are thinking--"Ewwwwwwwwwwwwww!"

                                              But, wait, there is more.

                                              Miss Poop Deck picked up her excrement, and hurled it at the employee.

                                              Then she took some napkins, wiped herself, and threw those!

                                              I mean, what are we coming to?  This woman has got to be mentally ill, and should be kept under wraps and given a psych eval.  I am telling you.  At least when Divine ate the dog shit in John Waters' iconic 1972 film, "Pink Flamingos," the viewer was saved from vomiting by Waters wisely cutting to the shot of the dog, who resembled a white miniature poodle, bur actually was not, looking up at Divine, with a "What the hell are you doing?" look on its face.

                                               No such luck here.  The woman was arrested, and, hopefully will spend some time in well padded booby hatch!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                Obviously, this bitch has anal issues!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                Scat, girl, scat!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tuesday, May 29, 2018

For Those Who Cannot Get In To "Heavenly Bodies" At The Metropolitan, Go To "David Bowie Is," At The Brooklyn Museum!!!!!!!!!!!

                              Oh, my God, darlings, be forewarned.  There is so much color, sensory overload, and heat--more about that, later--I have to warn any epileptics, and I am one, that medication weaker than mine could possibly send one into a seizure.  I was all right, but I want to make sure everyone else is.

                              One thing disappointed me.  Not a thing about "The Hunger," the movie I just love with the greatest lesbian scene captured on film.  Susan Sarandon and Catherine Deneuve.  Better than a bunch of bull dykes. Miss Fern from "The Bad Seed" must have got her panties in a snit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                               On the other hand, if you like color, this is the exhibit for you!

Just look at this!!!!!!!!!!!

And how about this???????????

Nevertheless, on a Holiday Weekend, this exhibit was packed.  You followed through with an earphone and audio accompaniment, instead of a human guided tour.  Not a bad idea, but why the excessive heat?  Except for two large fans, which failed to do the job, the space was so stifling, I had trouble breathing, and felt dehydrated.  I could not wait to get out of there--and neither could my David!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It is a must, but they must do something about the heat--it cannot be good for the materials--and go early in the day, or late in the evening, when, hopefully, it will be calmer.

But, then, ALL museum going is getting like this!  What is the world coming to?????????

I Would Put This Alongside "True Grit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                                 Having loved Davies' short story collection, "The Redemption Of Galen Pike," I was curious to see how she would handle the novel form.  Her book's length is as brief as its title--a mere 149 pages--but the economy of construction which seems to be Davies' primary skill allows for a story with as much, if not more, scope, than many novels of epic length.

                                   The juxtaposition of widower Cyrus Beller, who leaves his daughter, ten-year-old Bess behind, with his sister Julie and her neighbor Elmer Jackson, plays out like a morality play.
Beller is on the quest for the remains of mastodon-like creatures, or the remains thereof, he believes are West of his home in Pennsylvania, so he heads out, while, at home, Bess matures, Aunt Julie flirts with danger, and Bess is saved, in time, from predatory danger.

                                   Sounds impossible?  In lesser hands, yes; in Davies' this is as good as novel writing can get.  Is it too early for me to say this could be an end of year contender?  I don't think so!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                   Davies' works that I have read are nothing short of remarkable.  But I sense she has yet to write her breakout book.  What a marvel that will be, when it happens.

                                    Don't miss this one, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"...And Whatever Walked There, Walked Alone."

                                     That literary phrase says more about Shirley Jackson than one might imagine.  Though married, and with children, her most celebrated accomplishments--the body of her work--was done in solitude and contemplation.

                                       Ruth Franklin adeptly juxtaposes Jackson's life and travails with the burgeoning rise of the Women's Rights Movement, referencing such key players as Betty Friedan, and Susan Sontag.  What I could not help noticing was how the dynamics of Jackson's and Stanley Edgar Hyman's marriage was remarkably similar to that of Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes.  Both women's genius far exceeded their husbands, who were academic, at best.  Sylvia turned her despair inward, while Jackson reached outward; writing was her way of getting out in the world, no matter what degree of agoraphobia or obesity she suffered.

                                       Then, there was Mother Geraldine.  Apparently, she was a great beauty, and was devastated when Jackson turned out to be less than that.  Geraldine would have preferred a Grace Kelly type for a daughter, and made that apparent Jackson's entire life.  It is interesting to me that, despite this disparity, the relationship never reached estrangement.  Whereas, Jackson had a younger brother, Phillip, who, apparently, was everything Geraldine wanted Jackson to be.  As soon as Jackson moves on from childhood, Phillip is heard of no more.  I cannot help but wonder why Franklin failed to explore that.

                                        This is a satisfying literary biography, but, for my money, spends too much time on Stanley Edgar Hyman!  Who cares?  The man was second tier, a sexist pig, whose wife's genius outshone any of his accomplishments.  Though it is made clear teaching may have been his best work, though he probably would not agree.

                                          I must warn you.  Franklin wrote this book for those who have read quite a lot of Shirley Jackson. If you have not, this book is not for you, as many of Shirley's plots are given away, in examining them.  I will never forget the first time I read "The Lottery" in my high school library.  It took my breath away. No one should be deprived of that pleasure.

                                            Nor did I realize that Jackson's two domestic works--"Life Among The Savages," and "Raising Demons"--both preceded Jean Kerr's "Please Don't Eat The Daisies," which I had always thought pioneered the comic suburban expose.

                                            It seems there was nothing Shirley could not do.  And, for one with such a short life, she did more than many who live twice as long as she.  The talent, the complexity, are all captured superbly, but if there is one message Shirley sends out through this book it is this--

                                            Whatever one pursues, do not allow anyone to stop you.

                                             Somewhere, in the Great Beyond, Shirley, with coffee is writing away.

                                             So many of us look forward to reading that treasure trove!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Time To Welcome Another Reader!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                      Just a quick posting, as I have to do a pharmacy run into the city, to welcome Reader No. 75 to the fold.  Her name is Kathi Keeney, and I bid you welcome to this blog, and all the unpredictable things that can sometimes turn up on it.

                                        It sounds like Kathi found her way here, via the Bob Peterson-Gene Thurnau case, which, back in 2015, when I wrote the first post, I had no idea it would generate the furor it did.

                                        But that's one of the joys of writing, dears!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                        So, Kathi welcome on here, from one and all!  Goes great with whatever one chooses to drink!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                         And, now for this blog's unofficial Welcome Song!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Monday, May 28, 2018

A Song For Memorial Day!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                  Leave it to me to come up with something unconventional, darlings!!!!!!!!!!  It's what I am here for, after all.

                                  I want to celebrate this day with "Combination Of The Two," a late Sixties song by Big Brother And The Holding Company!  And Featuring....JANIS JOPLIN VOCAL!!!!!!!!!  AND HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                   It just goes to prove "Cheap Thrills" are often the best!

"That's right, we're gonna sock ya, knock ya,
We're gonna sock it to ya., now!!!!!!!
Oh, alright!"

Here it is!!!!!!!!
Happy Memorial Day, darlings!!!!!!!!!!

What About The Montana Werewolf??????????????????????

                                            "Even a man who is pure in heart, and says his
                                                prayers by night,
                                             May become a wolf, when the wolf bane blooms,
                                                 And the moon is full and bright."
                                             --Maria Ouspenskaya, as Maleva in "The Wolf Man,"

                                       Isn't he the cutest, darlings!

                                        When it comes to werewolves, I always thought Lon Chaney, Jr. was hot when he was in his Wolf Man makeup.  It's the gay man fantasy, like wanting to be Fay Wray, and carried off, by a big, hairy beast!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                           If this is a werewolf, I bet he was cuter than what he eventually turns back into.

                                            Like my work place friend, Insanity Wolf.  Remember him?  I wonder what he would have to say on all this?

                                            The wolf in the Nina Foch film, "Cry Of The Werewolf" was so cute.  So was Eddie Munster's werewolf doll, Woof Woof!

                                              The tragedy of the werewolf is it is really a cursed creature.  Once the transformation hits, it will go after anyone, but its most potent propensity is to go after that it loves the most.  There's the tragedy; compulsively seeking out what brings the greatest happiness in real life, and living with that loss once the transformation wears off.

                                               This is truly horrible!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                 So, I feel sorry for that Montana Werewolf!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                  It should be studied.

                                                  I also add I am fond of Siberian Huskies, as they resemble wolves.

                                                  I wonder what Insanity Wolf would say. Let's check in with him, and find out!
It's all part of being a werewolf, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Time To Deal With This, Head On!

                         A bit of background, for those who have not been on here long.

                         Back on January 6, 2015, ID had a program called "A Stranger In My Home."  On that night they broadcast the story of air traffic controller coworkers Bob Peterson and Gene Thurnau, which culminated in Bob murdering Gene.  It was horrifying and tragic.

                          I referred to this incident in my post as "A Gay Fatal Attraction."  Much of the negative feedback I received for this earlier post centered, I believe, on how I wanted to understand more the machinations of Bob--it was enough for many to brand him simply as a psycho--or maybe these folk just could not accept that a "Fatal Attraction" situation could occur beyond that of a man and a woman.  For those darlings, I have news--it can!!!!!!!!!!  Two men, two women, (look at the films "Single White Female," or "Heavenly Creatures," if you doubt me!) and, as has been seen over time, especially recent times, between teens and even children!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                           So, get off your duffs!  It is not strictly a heterosexual, adult thing!!!!!!


                           What was interesting to me, was that "The Killer Beside Me" focused more on Bob's psychosis, rather than his sex orientation.  It was mentioned, to be sure, but I am sure, if Bob already had a skewered psychological chemistry, as I believe he did, then his sexual orientation would not matter.

                             But societal pressures, in places outside of Metropolitan areas, make it a matter of concern, which is why I feel it should be added to the equation in assessing Bob.

                             Still. I learned several things from this broadcast.

                             I did not know Bob had transferred himself to the same place Gene did, in Florida. Nor did I know their association started in Nebraska.

                              Same with Bob purchasing the same truck as Gene.  News to me.  I have to say,  were I Gene, that would have been a red flag.

                                Gene had family in Florida, so wanting to go there made sense.

                                 Bob had a brother, Anthony, living in Florida. He knew Bob was gay, seemed OK with it, and the brothers seemed to have an amicable relationship.  So Bob was not as alone and estranged, as I first thought.

                                  I credit Jaye Jaye with sensing when things began turning peculiar, but not figuring out why.  Detractors say I might blame she and Gene for being straight. I do not; homosexuality just did not figure in their social lives.  Nor did the idea of being stalked by an
obsessive.  Unfortunately, many don't realize the latter situation until it has gotten too far!

                                   I am not a mental health professional.  I don't claim to be.  Bob's unfulfilled homosexuality was part of his psychic mix, but seeing this program, I believe he also suffered from BPD--Borderline Personality Disorder.  Though this is more common in women, men are not immune to it.  It is what Glenn Close's character, Alex, suffered from in "Fatal Attraction;" what I once heard her say bears this case out--People like these (Alex and Bob) are self-destructive, and ultimately kill themselves."

                                  Which was the case here.  Yes both dead men are victims.  But are so the families of them, on whose lives this cannot help but have an impact.

                                     I urge compassion for all.  That includes Gene. And that includes Bob.

                                     I stand by what I say.

                                    "The Killer Beside Me" gave a more insightful accounting, but I still want to know more about Bob's back story!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                     Put that in your pipe, and smoke  it, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Gojira Wishes Everyone A Happy Memorial Day!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                     Our lovable reptile friend, Gojira, has been having quite a time for himself this week.  Greeting the sailors during Fleet Week, helping the children in formation in the Bay Ridge Memorial Parade, and marching at the front. Summer, and holidays, make Gojira so happy, he just wants to dance and be carefree.

                                      So, no matter how you choose to celebrate this day, loves, take a hint from Gojira, and do it in the happiest way possible!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                       You will feel SO good!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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

                                I see my follower indicator has gone up to 74, darlings, which means a new reader has found their way on to here.  To said reader, I bid you welcome.  I hope you find the material on here as entertaining and informative as everyone else.  Lord knows, I try my best.

                                 So welcome to The Raving Queen.  Now to usher you in with this blog's unofficial theme song.


Saturday, May 26, 2018

You Have GOT To Be Kidding!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                  Apparently, even though I was not impressed by it, NBC's Live "Jesus Christ Superstar" was a hit!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                    So, what are they going to do next year????????  "HAIR!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                                    Can you believe it?????????????????

                                    Forget the nude scene; the big question on my mind is who will they get to sing "Frank Mills???????????"  Or will they even use it, because I swear, I think 'Superstar' was abbreviated!!!!!!!!!  And I fear the same will be done with "HAIR."

                                    Will they actually sing "Prisoners in Niggertown" on network TV???????

                                     If "HAIR" cannot be done as is, then what is the point??????????

                                      As I said with 'Merrily', casting this is CRUCIAL.

                                      Perfect as Allison Case was, it has been ten years already--can you believe it?????????--since she played Crissy at the Delacorte, in Central Park.  I think she has aged out.

                                       Bringing back survivors of the Original Cast could be interesting!!!!!!!!!!!

                                       I am also available to do "Frank Mills."  This September 12th will mark my 40th year of doing it, in front of the Waverly!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                       Heaven help us what they do to "HAIR."  If they could not even get purity right, with "The Sound Of Music," how the hell will they cope with "HAIR?????????"

                                       Thank God they are not doing "Runaways."  But, then, the folks behind these NBC musicals have probably never even heard of it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It Will Be Interesting To See How It Is Handled, This Time!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                Roundabout, albeit at the Laura Pels Theatre,  Off-Broadway, is dong "Merrily We Roll Along."  The Sondheim musical, not the Kaufman and Hart play.

                                 Performances are said to begin January 19, with an opening on February 19.  Noah Brody, of the Fiasco Theatre Company, in residence at Roundabout, is handling the staging. Alexander Gemignani,  son of Paul, who was Musical Director on the 1981 original, will take his father's place, for this production.  He is currently in "Carousel," so see this show ASAP, as he will have to leave it, to take on 'Merrily.'

                                  Fiasco is famous for a production they did of "Into The Woods," where the cast was pared down to ten.  I admit, I would like to have seen how that worked.

                                   As for 'Merrily,' I say to them two things.

                                  Please find a decent staging concept.

                                 Keep "The Hills Of Tomorrow" as its frame.

                                 And casting!  Oh yes, Casting is CRUCIAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 Will Celia want to do it again?  I wonder?  How about Andrew?

                                  "Carousel" cannot exist, without Jessie Mueller, so she cannot do it!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                   How the hell are they going to cast it?????????????  Does talent enough still remain out there to do it???????????????

                                    I am available, anytime, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  You want me to audition!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I'll give you an audition, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!  Just like when Margaret Hamilton said, "I'll give you Auntie Em!!!!!!!!!!!" in "The Wizard Of Oz!!!!!!!!!!!"

                                    This could be like pulling the rabbit out of a hat.  It will either be the biggest disappointment of the season, or a surprise, like when they did "Assassins," which was brilliant."

                                     And the score is always a pleasure to hear!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now, This Case Is Fascinating, Even Without Murder!!!!!!!!! At Least....Not Yet!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                               When I was growing up, the message I got, from the elders around me, was, an unmarried child lives at home till he walks down the aisle. And if he, or she does not, walk down the aisle, like my late Aunt Kathleen, for example, you take on the household responsibilities, while maintaining a job, eventually caring, as my aunt did, for those who once took care of you.

                                  I lived at home almost as long as Michael Rotondo.  I worked, things changed--my mother died, which was a big one--and eventually I struck out.  No one ever evicted me, or pushed me out, though certain relations made inappropriate comments I shall never forget.

                                   Across the street from me lived a guy named Ronald.  He was several years older, but he lived in that house all his life, till his death, at 53, in 2005.  Now, his parents had money--the father had been a chemist, who had patented something that went into Borax detergent, so maybe they could afford to be generous.  Or he did not have to worry about work.  Because he did not.  Not much.

                                    He wasn't gay.  Or a serial killer.  But I wonder how he passed his days.

                                    It is not Michael Rotondo's living at home that gets me.  Nor his parents wanting to evict him.

                                     I may be naive, but I have never heard of a case like this.  To me, something, on both sides, does not add up.

                                    To the parents, I say, I get it.  But why were things allowed to go on this long?  Five years, I could see.  But eight?  And why are you in such of a hurry to get him out?  Selfishness on your part, or genuine concern for him?  Both sides know the parents will not be around forever, but what is the rush here?

                                      The answer rests with Michael.  There is more than a trace of psychological instability around him.  I am not talking about childishness, or clinging to childhood. Hell, you can do that on your own.  I am living proof of that, girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                         One interviewer I saw asked him if he wants to leave home.  He immediately said "No," the implication being he wants to remain at home.  Then he says, "No, I don't want to live there, anymore."  Which is it, Mikey?  Make up your mind.

                                         Now, this man has fathered a child,  So, he is straight--but no gift to women--is not married, and who knows what kind of tramp he had the child with.  One sensible enough, at least to deny him visitation.  And yet he says he is a great father, cares about his son, and we don't even know the woman or child's name?

                                           That is because they are smart.  They are staying out of this mess.

                                            I am not sure Mikey knows the world he is living in.  Or wants to live in. I don't think it is lack of independence; I think it is some kind of mental instability.

                                             I take it he is an only child.  Have the parents ever considered the possibility of mental illness??????????????

                                              Michael Rotondo may need to leave home.  But not a bachelor pad.

                                              A padded cell, in an asylum!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I Cannot Believe I Do Not Remember This Case!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                             The 1984 murder of Teresa Benigno by her scumbag hubby, Dr. Kenneth Zachary Taylor, was enough to generate a New York Times article by Peter Maas (best known for the book "Serpico," which became one  of Al Pacino's signature roles) as well as the book and film that came forth from this article--"In A Child's Name."  The story is as much about a custody struggle, as it is for murder.

                              Parts of this movie have to be seen to be believed.  Joanna Merlin, as a Staten Island Italian housewife???????????  A pre-Elliot Stabler Chris Meloni with what is obviously a hair piece, making him less becoming than just being bald.  And Michael Ontkean--what ever happened to him?--whose take on Taylor is so sketchy--an ex-porno jock who is so preoccupied with his body he exercises over everything else, and has the equipment right in the bedroom.  This made me wonder if he was some sort of closet case, too.  But, as the story makes clear, he is a narcissist, a spouse abuser, and, as one military psychologist diagnosed him, "a homicidal maniac."

                              He meets Teresa when she is a hygienist in his dental office, turns on the charm that these types, do,  and carries on with her, while still married to Marilyn.  The actress who plays this role, is cagey; when questioned about her husband's behavior, she gives him glowing notices---but you can see fear in her eyes.  Because, though eventually married to Teresa, this bastard still occasionally sleeps with her, and, again, on his part it is control, on hers fear--that he will harm both she and her daughter.

                              David Huddleston plays Ken's father, Zach Taylor.  But, guess who plays his mother, Jean?????????  That is right, darlings, none other than Louise Fletcher!  Geez, Louise!  When I saw her, I knew what we were in for; all she has to do is glare at the camera to convey a malevolence more terrifying than most.  This was during that period of time when Valerie Bertinelli seemed to be in every other TV movie, and, when a seasoned actress was needed to portray a real bitch, Louise Fletcher was the actress to call.  She glares malevolently, Ontkean glares arrogantly, and you want to put your fist through the TV at both of them.

                               Of course, they stick up for their psycho son, even to the point of trying to extract custody of grandson Andrew for themselves.  You see, they are Midwest Christians, not fast and easy New Yorkers, so they have the right values to raise their son.  Yeah, right!   So, what happened to your child???????????

                                I wonder if Peter Maas' book, which I may have to read, gives the parents back story.  I would like to have known more, to see what turned Ken into what he became--a monster!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 Valerie Bertinelli gives the most impassioned performance, as Teresa's sister, Angela, who wages a hard battle she deservedly wins.  They get the child, the parents go back to their Right Wing cult in the Midwest, and scumbag Ken stays in prison. All is well--in TV movie land.

                                   But this scumbag was unfathomable.  He was also a sex addict, embezzler, very entitled, and seemed to murder his wife simply because she took back a family heirloom--earrings--he wanted to sell.  The murder is mercifully done off-camera, but the method is made clear--he bludgeons her to death with a twenty pound bar bell.

                                     The real Kenneth Taylor is not as handsome as Ontkean, but is every bit a psycho scumbag.  I am not sure if Teresa had not been murdered, someone else would have.  Maybe Marilyn and her daughter.  I was surprised, but glad, he did not kill the child.

                                       Which does not mean he would not have, if it fit his agenda.  This guy is pure evil.

                                        ID should do this story.  Maybe they have!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                        Scum, darlings!  Scum!  And the Taylors lived in New Jersey!


Would You Believe The Bitch On The Left Worked At A Hair Salon??????????????????

                            At one point, when she vanished around 2004, when her real name was Kimberly Kessler, this grifter, who is this week's Belated Bitch Of The Week, was actually a pretty girl.  But what a difference fourteen years can make!  Because, now, she is beyond a comb and cream rinse!!!!!!!!!!

                            But that is not why is she is awarded Bitch Of The Week.  She earns that distinction for being the prime suspect in the abduction and alleged death of coworker Joleen Cummings.

                            Now, Joleen looks the hair salon type.  She was also a wife and mother.  Why Sybert might have done this is unfathomable at this point, but, I mean look at those eyes.  Does Sybert look sane to you, hons, from that picture????????????????????

                             I hope they find Joleen, and bring some justice and closure to her family.

                             And I hope prison inmates tear out Jennifer's/Kimberly's hair by the roots.

                             Kimberly was originally from Pennsylvania, but turned up in Nassau County, Florida, working with Joleen at the Tangles Hair Salon in Yulee.

                              I am sure Jennifer had a problem with Joleen's beauty, when hers was gone.  But, really, a killer spinster?????????????????

                              This sounds like a story that belongs on ID's "The Killer Beside Me," which is all about people being killed by their coworkers.

                               The workplace is getting rougher these days.  And the bitches nastier!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                I can't wait to hear more of Jennifer's back story.  I am sure Joleen is not a first victim!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 Remember, you heard it first, here, dears!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We Have GOT To Talk About The Season Finale Of 'SVU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!'

                                    There was not much to process in this episode, so I am not sure if this post will be long or short.  Let me start by saying that, with things having looked up, like Olivia not always getting the final shot, and Stephanie March's stellar appearance, I was holding out hope for this show.  Both Baby Gojira and I were so psyched for the Season Finale!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                      The results were like a slap in the face.  It was as if the creators were saying to its audience, "Fuck you.  We don't care if you like or dislike what we do.  "Cause we will do it, anyway."

                                       It's like they have us all by the throat. Because when Season 20 opens, of course I will be there.  Hope springs eternal.

                                       Let's start with the fact that this should not have been a two hour episode.  It was repetitious and elongated.  Then there was Genesis Rodriguez as Lourdes Vega, and her faux Spanish accent.  Enough said.

                                        We've seen the whole drug cartel thing before.  Couldn't they have come up with something better?????????????????

                                          And pity poor Amy Korb, who had the job of portraying sibling Pamela Stone.  Incarcerated in a mental hospital, with potential for developing a story arc for Phillip Winchester, what do the writers do, but have her killed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  While this was not as reprehensible as killing Sister Peg, seasons back, Korb had little time to develop any sort of character; she was as dramatically present as the decomposed Mother Bates, whom Vera Miles discovers, at the climax of "Psycho!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                                            I would have liked more of Pam, gotten to know her story, and seen something develop between she and her brother.  Alas, forget it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                              As for Noah, I had to laugh when, during his scenes with Olivia, he talks about Grandma Sheila, as if he wants to be with her, instead!  Can you blame him?   Listen, on the professional toddler circuit, I am sure the word among the kiddies is, "Don't go up for Noah on "SVU.'  It is a thankless job."

                                                By the way, Season 20 hints at a return visit from Sheila!  I hope so! I love the way Brooke plays it, and it livens things up!  Something this show badly needs!!!!!!!!!!

                                               Thank God for Carolyn McCormick's all too brief appearance as Dr. Elizabeth Olivet!!!!!!!!!  More should have been done with her.

                                                  And that Olivia.  What a sanctimonious bitch!  I am getting so sick of her.  It was smart of the programmers, before the Season Finale, to air the episode with Stephanie March.  Not only to showcase March as an actress, but to show Olivia's hypocrisy--she reprimands Alex for taking the law into her own hands, then, in the Season Finale, goes even farther than Alex did.  Get this bitch off the show, and let Rollins take over.  Kelli Giddish is more than ready, and she is a better actress.

                                                  Baby Gojira was royally pissed.  And so was I!!!!!!!!!!!!  Season 19 of 'SVU' went out with the biggest whimper I have ever seen.  It was more like a death knell.

                                                   I hate to say it, but maybe it should have been.

What A Week It Has Been!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                            I cannot tell you how happy I am to finally get in front of this computer, and write. It seems like all week I was running into the city--either to the pharmacy, or the bookstore.

                             Yesterday was the first real hot day of the year, and where was I?  On the Upper East Side, where I seldom go, and where all the women look the same--call them the Uber Stepfords!!!!!!!!!!  I k now what they had to do to get there, but, really, girls, is it worth it?  I mean, having to live with pigs like Harvey Weinstein?????????????

                                Thank God for my friend, Judy, who met me at the bookstore, where I wanted (but did not) have a meltdown.  I thought I was getting a collection of "The Northnager Horrid Novels"--meaning more than one volume.  All I got was one volume, "Horrid Mysteries."  Well, I took care of that.  I ordered some others at Amazon.  I plan this to be my Summer Reading Project.

                                I had two panic attacks--one on the subway, and one at Starbucks, where Judy and I ended up after the bookstore.  I am sure my father's death has something to do with it, but, lately, especially since I am reading Shirley Jackson's biography, I am beginning to wonder if I am descending into reclusiveness.  Crowds used to not phase me.  Yesterday, they sure did.

                                  But, not to fear, I am back, and there is much to talk about.

                                  I'd rather be running to fashion houses.  But no time, this week!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thursday, May 24, 2018

Just A Quick Message, Girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                          Yesterday was dentist day.  I had a totally new experience with a new dentist.  Now, no one says going to the dentist is as fun as, say, a ride on the Tilt-A-Whirl, but when my one-time Manhattan dentist reached astronomical sums I could not afford, I had to do something.

                            Thanks to my classy canine friend, Miss Chloe, I found a wonderful dentist right here in Bay Ridge, just about a twenty minute walk from my apartment.

                              They scraped and scrubbed, and now I feel so much better.  Going to the dentist, overall, is better than not going.

                                I have to look my best for those photo shoots, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"Anchors Aweigh, My Boys!!!!!!!!!!!!" It's Fleet Week!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                     Yes, girls, it is that time of year once again--when we do our patriotic duty, and bring a sailor home for a home cooked meal.  Though, as the line in "Funny Girl" says, "A bit of dinner never hurt, but guess who's gonna be desert?"

                                       Wouldn't this pair be appetizing to bring home.  So put on your best frocks, march down to the Intrepid, and see what you can find.

                                          You just may run into our beloved friend, Gojira, who always does his patriotic duty by leading the fleet in and then out.

                                            So cook up some tasty dishes, for dishes like these, dolls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wednesday, May 23, 2018

Goodbye, Philip!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                    Forget Claire Bloom, for a moment, darlings.  I am not saying Philip Roth was any great shakes as a human being, but he was one hell of a writer.  That is, in his better books.

                                    My relationship with Philip Roth was similar to that of Joyce Carol Oates. Both are, and were, undeniably talented and gifted, but I would not read every single work.  Indeed, when I first read "Portnoy's Complaint," at age 14, which is actually the perfect age to read it, I worked my way through him till around "The Breast," then stopped altogether, until "The Plot Against America."  Whereupon I discovered "Sabbath's Theater, "Nemesis," about the polio epidemic, and what I consider his masterwork, "American Pastoral."

                                      Anyone with a serious interest in literature should read Philip Roth.  These are the works I suggest,  Some of you may be fond of others.  But if you are over 14, do not re-read 'Portnoy'.  It just does not hold up.

                                      Still, it did more for masturbation than Masters And Johnson.

                                       They say the ornery live longer.  With his heart problems, I was amazed to discover that Roth had made it to 85, when he passed.  Pretty good for one with his health issues.

                                         I cannot say for certain how many will miss Roth, the person.

                                         Readers such as I will miss Roth, the writer.

                                         May both rest in peace.
                                            Here is the literary work, with the pretty yellow and red jacket, that I refuse to have in my house.....for SHAME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh, That Margot!!!!!!!!!!!! She Was Some Kidder!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                Just about everyone lamenting the passing of Margot Kidder, ten days before, thought of her, first and foremost, as Lois Lane.  I am of the "Superman" TV generation, so, for me, Noel Neill will always be Lois.  Besides, I preferred Margot's more florid work, like the demented un-conjoined Siamese twin in 1973's "Sisters," which, girls, you have to see to believe, and then her turn as incestuous mother to Chad Lowe, Jason Mayberry, in the 2005 'SVU' episode, "Pique."  Who can forget the scene where the squad finds them in bed, covered in blood, he having made love to, then killed, his mother?  And Margot, as this Upper Montclair matriarch!!!!!!!!! Named Grace, no less!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 Such was the stuff Kidder was made of, and sadly, but ironically, it might have figured in her decline.  She was so skilled at these types of roles because she hovered so near the brink of their actuality, considering how things turn out.

                                   I shall remember Kidder's work fondly.  I also hopes she find the peace she never found in life.

                                    Fame is not the answer, dolls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This Production Makes You Cry Out For Alma!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                As I have shown, the title page to Tennessee Williams' vastly underrated play, "Summer And Smoke," quotes famously, from Rilke, "Who, if I were to cry out, would hear me among the angelic orders."  That is the question asked by Alma Winemiller throughout, and I am not certain she finds the answer. But more on that later.

                                During the titular moment in "The Slap," back in 2015. when Harry and Gary confront each other, and Sandy, in that dazzling split black and white dress, steps in to apologize, and Gary hurls back, "How many times does he hit you, Sandy?," the way Marin Ireland clutched herself, stepped back, and revealed by expression that she did not know that everyone else had the number on her marriage, was so powerfully unspoken by Marin Ireland, in the role, that I knew, then, this was an actress to keep an eye on.

                                My prediction has come true.  Get down to CSC before this week ends, and see Marin Ireland as Miss Alma.  She is to be reckoned among such Almas as Geraldine Page and Blythe Danner, and, good as Amanda Plummer was at Paper Mill, Main Ireland's impassioned interpretation and exploration is so detailed she makes you feel Alma's pain.  My heart and soul (which "Alma" is Spanish for) just went out to her.

                                Not since Celia Keenan-Bolger stunned as Laura in 2013's "The Glass Menagerie" have I seen a portrayal like this.  Staged within a suggestively confined box--a coffin-- the actors move about empty space freely, often so close to the audience, that if an audience member were to move, they might tumble into their laps.  So focused does Marin move about as Alma, one would not dare disturb her, but, if such were to happen, I am sure she would not break character.

                                  Hers is the best acting performance I have seen in the last five years.  Do not miss it.

                                   But Marin can't do it all on her own.  She needs that good Williams' dialogue, and supporting players to tell Alma's story.  And she gets it--from Nathan Darrow, as Dr; John Buchanan, Jr., Alma's psychological counterpart,  Hannah Elless (excellent last year in Transport's "Come Back, Little Sheba," where she played Marie, and "Picnic," where she played Millie Evans) as Nellie Ewell, whose mother's reputation foreshadows Alma's, and Barbara Walsh as Alma's mentally challenged (but not totally unaware) mother.  These are the standouts, but the rest, especially Ryan Spahn, as Archie Kramer, in that final scene, enable Marin to tell us Alma's story.

                                    With a town like Glorious Hill, Mississippi, what could go wrong?  Well, when one is trapped in a familial, non-sexual prison with no kind of fulfillment, such as Alma, is it any wonder most see her as a "white blooded spinster."  When someone is told something so much, they often become that, when they are not, and Ireland's physical movements, gestures, even turning away from the audience, leaning over a chair, reveals all of Alma to the audience.  Like a painting, which serves (the anatomy chart) as a metaphor, all her shades have been filled in.

                                        I personally know something about Alma's famous "telephone number of God."  I take something similar myself.  For anxiety.

                                       And when, at the end, she hurls that line--"The tables have turned, with a vengeance!," all the pent-up rage, self-hatred and doubt is finally released from Alma in a blaze of verbal colors by Miss Ireland.  But it is too late; Alma has become what John once was, and he what she once had been.  Which is the tragedy of the play.  Neither will find fulfillment in their lives, but Alma, in choosing non-conformity is hovering over a dangerous precipice.

                                        Marin Ireland as Alma made me think of a William Inge character, Deanie Loomis, played by Natalie Wood, in "Splendor In The Grass." She faced a similar struggle, as Alma. But
that story takes place roughly fifteen years after 'Summer,' ending on a more hopeful note, with Deanie getting the help she needs, finding her place in society.  As Marin Ireland marches offstage at the end of "Summer And Smoke," the look on this beaten woman suggests she knows what she is in for, that she is marching to her own execution, her own self-destruction, eventually arriving at that same emotional cross road as Blanche Du Bois.

Speaking of Blanche, wouldn't Marin Ireland be wonderful in the role?  Or even as Miss Lucretia Collins in "Portrait Of A Madonna?"

Before this production, I thought Moon Lake Casino a magical, romantic place.

As this production, thanks to Miss Ireland, makes clear,  it is only the first of the many circles of Hell!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Not To Be Confused With "The Day Of The Locust," Darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                  That Dawn Powell certainly knew how to write roman a clefs about her crowd, girls.  If I was more versed on my late Forties Manhattan history, I might be enable to identify the reality behind the characters she writes about.  Perhaps a more enlightened reader  out there can do that; be my guest!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                    What a set of characters.  Frederick Olliver and Lyle Gaynor--Lyle is a woman, girls--who are some Kaufman and Ferber play writing team, who just cannot keep it together, either personally or professionally.  For those who remember Shelley Duvall, as L.A. Joan, in Robert Altman's "Nashville," her stand in here is Dorothy Brennan, aka Dodo, whose behavior is what her name suggests--a wannabe filberty gibbet from Baltimore, who wants to be discovered by the right people, at all the right parties, by doing as little actual work as possible.  Sort of like so many of us when we were young, who learn early, once hitting this town, what Dodo, even at novel's end, fails to learn.  Nevertheless, her machinations and presence make her the most fascinating character in this novel.  Equally odd is her mother, who views her relationship with her daughter, as one more between sisters, than parent and child.  This is by way of falsely keeping her youth, thinking she is fooling everyone, when she is not.  I guess Dawn Powell, in creating them, had to reign them in--otherwise they would over power this novel.

                                      Basically a sketch of assorted wannabes losers--they are the locusts-- the novel offers cultural organizations and bars as gatherings and places of hope for people on this artistic periphery, making it clear that, no matter how high an opinion they may have of themselves, they may never get any farther than they are now.

                                        I am sure Powell included herself among these, as her life and legacy bear out.  Never popular in her day, except among this crowd, her novels are being re-discovered by such as I, and are claiming for themselves a legacy widely deserved, but hitherto unrecognized.

                                         Would Powell were here to see the enjoyment reading her books engenders in many readers.  This was my fourth one, and I look forward to my fifth.

                                            Keep at it, Dawn.  No one skewers the city scene, circa 1940's like you.

                                            You were the Tama Janowitz of the day!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Saturday, May 19, 2018

Something To Cheer Us Up, Darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                             I actually used to own this disc, darlings.  It was give to me, back in the day, when I must have been seven or eight, by my paternal grandmother, who knew the score better than most around her.  If only I still had it, now!

                              This past week, Baby Gojira has been dancing up a storm!  I think he has been trying to cheer me up--he is so sweet!!!!!!--so, now I want to give him something in return, to him and all my readers, to cheer all up!

                                  What could be better than Dee Dee Sharp and...."GRAVY?????????"


Kudos To The People At This Place!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 As anyone who knows me well, understands, one cannot keep me out of a book store.  And if I emerge from one, empty handed, as I have on occasion, I feel depressed.

                                  Well, for those who keep up with me, I have been trying to track down "The Northanger Horrid Novels."  I know the folks at "Three Lives" would get it, but I have not been in that neighborhood, recently.  Near David's doctor is a "Shakespeare And Co." store, which is supposed to cater to the students of Hunter College.  Well, I went in there, and posed the search question about these novels, and the clerk there never  heard of them, I am not sure he got the Jane Austen connection, and the search was so cursory, nothing resulted.  Shame on you, once!  That's enough, for me!

                                    After our excursion at The Met, we visited The Corner Bookstore, the most charming little place, at 1313 Madison Ave, by East 93rd.  I am telling you, it is so warm and cozy, a film version of "She Loves Me" could be shot in there!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                    The staff is engaging, and very nice looking, with one of them resembling a young Stanley Tucci.  He was busy with a window display, so this charming young girl not only took the time to look up the novels I was seeking, which I ordered, she was able to find a book recently having come out, that I mistakenly referred to as "The Gunnysacks, or "The Gunnywacks," but which turned out to be "The Gunners" by Rebecca Kaufman, author of "Another Place You've  Never Been," which I also plan  to read.

                                      I am here to tell you, darlings, that this is the "Three Lives" of the Upper East Side. So, when in that nabe, forsake all others, and GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                     Maybe these folk should initiate a training program at "The Strand!!!!!!!!!!!"