Seven Down, Five To Go!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Goodbye, July!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                    This picture pretty much sums up what July was like, for us girls--quiet, steaming, getting lots of rest, because it was too hot to do anything, and, maybe because of that, not as many blog posts, as I would have liked.

                                     I have mixed feelings about the end of July.  Summer is still here, but as August arrives, the realization sinks in that the days will get shorter, the nights longer, and, though I am as distanced from school as can be, August still reminds me September is around the corner, and with it....Back To  School.  Memories linger.

                                      But it was a quiet July for us, here.  Many of my animal friends are on vacation, the weather was too hot to go out on certain days.  My hives have improved, though have not vanished, and we did not see any stage theater this month, having seen "Beetlejuice" on Gay Pride.

                                         I saw "Annabelle Come Home," at the Alpine, with Chris, and then there was our trip to "Mulholland Drive--" the movie, and what an experience that was.

                                          It was also nice to reconnect with former coworker Kris Shuman, as David and I had lunch with her.  It was like a recreation of our Mermaid Parade luncheons, and it was equally hot.

                                          So, really, that was July.  Helped by both "Valley Of The Dolls," and now "Big Little Lies."

                                           I am toying, girls.  At my retirement party, in 2017, I disavowed a "Devil Wears Prada" type book.   But I said nothing about a Jacqueline Susann type expose.

                                            So, who knows what August will bring?  I hope it brings more blog posts, because I feel I let readers down this month, with so few!

                                              See you next month, dolls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!        

Renata Is Right!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Never Let A Bully Win!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                  Right now, girls, I happen to be reading "Big Little Lies," and cannot wait to get back to it.  What a bitch fest!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I will have much to say on here, once I have finished it.

                                    In both the book and series, Renata's little daughter, Amabella, is being bullied.  But she is afraid to tell.  Renata, being Renata, screams at her to do so, which is wrong, but she is right, when she says, "You have to learn to use your voice, in this world!"

                                      How I wish someone had said that to me, when I was school age.  Because I would have ratted out everyone I have not already ratted out on here, and gotten into fights, which would have gotten what I wanted anyway, which was to have been sent to some other school.

                                        It took me years to learn to stand up for myself, because, as I discovered, during my school years, no one else was going to. Or ever did.  So, fuck!  Go fuck yourselves!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                         I am with Renata's ranting.  If Amabella doesn't learn how to stand up now, she will never get over looking back on this horrible time.

                                           I feel for Amabella.  I was in her situation at one time.

                                            But I cheer for Renata!  She knows what to do!

                                            See what I mean, darlings?????????????????????

A Sunday Afternoon At BAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                   This past Sunday, David and I, plus our neighbors, Dan and Jennifer trekked to the BAM Cinema to see an artistic program, consisting of three Maya Deren short films, and then David Lynch's 2001 classic, "Mulholland Drive," his best film, next to "Blue Velvet," but more complex, and one I had not seen in--my God!!!!!!!!!!!--18 years!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                     The sensory overload was so overpowering that I decided to write about each Deren film individually, and then culminate with a post on "Mulholland Drive."  So, bare with me, girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Here is Deren herself, as she appeared in the first film shown, the 1943 short film, "Meshes In The Afternoon."  The recurrent image of her body or shadow running along a sloping wall, either in pursuit, or pursuing someone, foreshadowed David Lynch, which made it appropriate to show these films with "Mulholland Drive."  It also amazed me that this film, made in 1943, spoke of two separate Hollywoods.  Over at 20th Century-Fox then, "The Song Of Bernadette" was in production, with Jennifer Jones going for her Oscar gold.  Deren resembles a cross between Jones, especially in hair style, and Elizabeth Short, the Black Dahlia, in all her mysteriousness.  Had I not known the film was released in 1943, I might have said Deren was making a connection.

As for feminism in cinema, who ever said it just sprung up in contemporary times?  For this film, with its images of opening flowers being shown, and placed in strategic locations, is about the power of the vagina, both how straight men go mad for it, and gay men fear it.  The most frightening moment of the film is when she places the flower atop her vagina, albeit clothed.

This and 'Bernadette.'  Can you imagine?  I mean, if Jennifer Jones had worked for Deren, she sould have had an altogether different career.  Maybe not as noteworthy, but possibly more interesting.

But all this is my conjecture.  Others may have some themselves.  "Meshes In The Afternoon" is a vaginal nightmare that compels the viewer, no matter he or she feels.

Deren is both fascinating, and overlooked!  I am glad she is getting her chance, now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It Starts Out Strong, But.....................

                                      Had it been written decades before, Angela Flournoy's novel, "The Turner House," would have been a huge 500+ or more page novel, in the grand family saga tradition.  Flournoy gives readers this tradition and structure in just 340 pages, remarkably keeping a family of parents, and their thirteen children (!!!!!!!!!!) in scope and perspective..  But, by the last hundred or so pages, I was anxious for things to wrap up, as I thought the story was being more drawn out than it needs to be.

                                       The plot is simple. Mama is getting old, the house is in disarray, and the siblings have to decide what to do with it--sell or not sell.  In addition to all these travails, one gets a microcosmic history of the city of Detroit, the riots, and everything. In some ways, this historical context is the most gripping part of the book.  One can see how each time period in the city made the Turner children who they are, based on when they grew up.

                                           Well written, if a bit dense, "The Turner House" is a worthwhile read that unfortunately stops short of being the great novel it so wants to be.  And I wanted it to be, too.

                                              But this is Flournoy's first novel, and she is just cutting her teeth.  Perhaps by the next book, she will have sharpened them.

                                               Time will tell, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Darlings, I Just LOVE Laura Dern, As Renata Klein, In "Big Little Lies!" Girls, At Times, I AM Renata!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                   I SO relate to Renata, because I know what it is to be better than many of those around me.  I don't call it out too much, but there are times when I have.

                                    For one of my best Renata moments, hearken back to my post of December 2, 2012, (my God, that is almost seven years!!!!!!!!!) concerning our infamous holiday visit to Demarchelier, up on East 86th Street.  That will give you some idea.

                                     I have two favorite Renata moments. Let me share and discuss them, so you will better understand why I love this character.  Aside from Dern's brilliant acting.

                                      Here is the best--the scene where Renata gives it to her daughter Amabella's teacher and principal, for teaching the child about climate change by saying the planet is doomed.  I love when the principal says, "As much as it may shock you, Renata, this school is here to serve all the children, not just Amabella."

                                         Oh, no!  It is all about Amabella, and this school is there to serve her exclusively!  Just like Irving School in Highland Park, NJ, was SUPPOSED to serve me exclusively, if only my parents had had the balls like Renata to say it!  Well, I am saying it now, because Irving did not serve ME!  It was too busy catering to all the dumb kids from the wrong side of the tracks, who ended up in assembly line jobs, tract houses, secretarial pools, or garden apartments in low districts, anyway!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Whereas I transcended all that, because first, I did not come from that environment and I fought my way, like Renata!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I rose above the mediocrity that Irving School tried to instill in me I was worthy only of.  Why doesn't the town do a favor, and tear Irving School to the ground, build a school AWAY from that district, so teachers won't resent teaching there, as they did in my Irving days?  And even when they got a bright kid, like me, they had to ignore me in favor of the dummies.  Many of the girls, upon reaching puberty, became sluts!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                       I say to Highland Park, get rid of this junk heap!  Which is why this is my favorite scene with Renata.  I wish someone over me had had the courage to say what Renata said to these administrators, and it brings back such personal associations for me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now, the toy smashing scene may not be one of my favorites, but let me explain where it is coming from.  The despicable behavior of Renata's husband, Gordon, is brilliantly captured by Jeffrey Nordling, who plays him.  Gordon is Classic American Straight Man--the dumbest kid in the class who actually made good, but is still a sexist pig, and retreats to his Man Cave.  Why Renata married him is beyond me, but why does any woman marry a man of this type?  These are guys who were breast fed by their mothers, up to the age of 14, which is why they are so fixated on women's breasts, and "JUGS" magazine (if, indeed, it still exists). And when they fight with their wives, it is they who go home to Mother, to suck wisdom from her teat!!!!!!!!  The Man Cave is to relive their dumb jock youth they never left, anyway, and they are so damn smug about it. So, when Renata, after having been bankrupt and screwed over by Gordon, who has also been fucking the nanny (!!!!!!!!)  deservedly destroys his Man Cave, and hits him in the chest, with a baseball bat,  I wish she had sent him to the hospital.  And I hope women out there, who are married to these Gordon types, rise up, and do just what Renata does!

This shows why gay men are superior to straight men!

And if there is a third season, I cannot WAIT to see what Renata does next!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Darlings, ANNA Was At The "Moulin Rouge" Broadway Opening On July 25!!!!!!!!!!!! So, Why Wasn't I Invited?????????????????

                                       Is my social standing dropping, or what?  Or have I reached that point where people fear if I turn up at an event, because I might sink it with my words????????????????????

                                        Girls, I have no idea to hurt anyone.  I just want to have fun.  Like Jackie Susann!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                          So, how come I was NOT invited to the "Moulin Rouge" Broadway opening, on July 25?????????????????

                                             With everything closing on Broadway, it is a veritable cess pool.  The fact that "Moulin Rouge," a movie I liked only for the visuals, and Nicole Kidman's famous line, "Come and get me, boys!," which, of course, all gay men of the day adopted as their mantra, back in 2001!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                  That the visuals I have seen of this show match "An American In Paris," if not "Follies," speaks for the hope I desperately hold for it.  Not to mention the presence of Danny Burstein, a "Follies" alum, himself, and Karen Olivo, who won a TONY a decade before for her work as Anita in the 2009 "West Side Story," which played the Palace, then vanished from show biz, and is now mysteriously back.  That is quite a story, and I would like to hear it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                     So "Moulin Rouge" could be the next show David and I see.

                                                     But to think they would invite ANNA to the opening, and not ME?????????????   That is ridiculous!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                       ANNA looks lovely, but I am certain I could come up with something equally fetching!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                         Someday, say in 2022, the producers of this show may be anxious, even desperate, for me to attend!

                                                           Who will have the last laugh, then?????????????????

Is Stephen McCauley A Gay Writer? I Think Not!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                I first faced this question, several years ago, when I was in a so-called gay book group, and someone made the mistake of selecting "The Object Of My Affection" as a group pick.

                                                  I read it, and was disgusted.  As I was by the Jennifer Aniston, Paul Rudd 1998 movie.  A book about a young woman who gets pregnant, and opts to have her gay friend raise the child with her, rather than the boyfriend who impregnated her.

                                                    How, I ask you, is this gay?  Sure, the one character is gay, but McCauley sets the whole thing up so they live basically a heterosexual life style, without having sex.  What kind of crap is that?

                                                      Because this year was the 50th year of Gay Pride, I decided to read something appropriate.  I had been considering "My Ex-Life," because it got some good reviews, and I thought I should read something gay for this time period.  I had also hoped the author had grown as a writer since the last book.

                                                        Well, he hasn't!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                         "My Ex-Life" is the same closest case heterosexist crap as "The Object Of My Affection."  A gay man living in San Francisco, gets a call from his ex-wife, whom he should never have married in the first place, and she should never have called him, but then blame this on McCauley for the kind of closeted construct he was setting up once again.

                                                            The most interesting character in the book turns out to be the ex-wife's daughter, Mandy, who is of college application age, and her adventures, plus David's, the gay guy's, interaction with her.  This is the best, most honest part of the book.  David has a one nighter with this storekeeper named Kenneth whom he dumps like gay guys do in Manhattan, but at least the author allows it to happen, and, despite the fallout, both admit the encounter was very nice.

                                                                Stephen Macauley is my age--born in 1955, which makes him 64. Same as I.  But the way he incorporates heterosexuality into almost every work I have read of his speaks of someone who is not altogether comfortable writing exclusively gay literature.  How I long for the days of David Leavitt, who had the courage McCauley wishes he could have, and was a much better writer than Macauley ever will be,   Ironically, Leavitt has mysteriously disappeared from the writing scene, while McCauley, Mr. Closet Gay Writer, is still prolific.

                                                                    Yes, he is gay, and yes he writes, but that does not make one a gay writer.  And dropping obvious references--like to Henry James' novel "The Portrait Of A Lady," or the sight of a young man with a "perfect ass" indicates gayness, but this is like an infant sticking his toes into a back yard baby pool.

                                                                       What told me McCauley was actually gay, and has the potential to be more than he is content to be, in order to get published by allowing the straight contingent to hear what they want to hear, came from a reference only I picked up.  He refers to a novel from the 1950's, about a young doctor, written by someone who invented the Thompson Turkey.  He wrote it was made into a movie with an all-star cast, and was the first film directed by Stanley Kramer.  I knew instantly what he was talking about, because my parents had the book in our house, when I was growing up, and, of course, I read it.  The novel was Morton Thompson's mammoth 800 page plus 1954 tome, "Not As A Stranger!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                                                                            Now, only someone who is gay would know this.  So, if you go flaming enough to reveal this about yourself, Stephen, why can't you incorporate a story with exclusively gay characters?  Until you do, I am staying away from whatever else you may write.

                                                                             Closet cases are as much a danger on the printed page, as in person, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"Wuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

                                 There has never been a sound like this, before or since.  In the 1932 Little Rascals short, "Birthday Blues," the gang tries to make a cake for Spanky and Dick's mother, because Dad is too cheap.  It was always the men in these shorts who were evil, save for Blanche Payson, in "Dogs Is Dogs."

                                  The cake is concocted from all sorts of Little Rascals silliness.  But it will not come out right.  It emerges as a perfect square that makes a noise, and a gigantic balloon emanates from it, resembling a breast with elongated nipples.

                                    I mean, you have to see it, to believe it.  It is one of my favorites, along with th short, featuring the Wild Man Of Borneo, who chases them through the house, and says "Yum!  Yum!  Eat 'em up!"

                                     Here is the cake, and the sound!  There has been nothing like it, before or since!

                                      Back when childhood was fun!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Faye Dunaway A Bitch????????????? Who Would Have Thought??????????????????????????

                                 Of course I am being facetious, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 Somewhere between her Oscar winning turn as Diana Christensen in "Network," in 1976, and her camp turn as Joan Crawford in 1981's "Mommie Dearest," Faye lost her way, turning into a camp composite of these characters.  And now, after her recent stunt, she solidly qualifies as this week's winner of The Raving Queen Bitch Of The Week Award.

                                  The world of Jacqueline Susann is alive and well with stories like this.

                                   Here is how it goes.

                                    About fifteen years ago, Off-Broadway, Kate Mulgrew performed Matthew Lombardo's vanity production, playing a very convincing Katherine Hepburn.  It went no further than that.  Which is fine.  Because neither did Lombardo who is, obviously some over aged Italian Mama's Boy in New Jersey, writing vanity pieces because he knows his mother will endorse each and every one,  Nice, huh?????????????????

                                    Someone not very bright got the idea to revive this clunker, and cast Faye Dunaway in it.  Now, logically that makes sense, but the truth is, Faye needed the work.  The last thing I saw her in, darlings, was the 2017 trash horror film, "The Bye Bye  Man," in which her highlight is burning up on camera, like Miss Havisham!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Well, a girl has to work.

                                     "Tea At Five" was all set for Broadway.  It was previewing at the Huntington Theatre in Boston from June 24 through July 10, and, on the latter date, all hell broke.

                                        It was something of a culmination.  Dunaway would show up late for rehearsals, would not allow either the playwright or director to look at her, during them, and was horrid to the crew.  She also hates anything white, and once reprimanded a car company for sending a white limousine, stalling for time, while she waited for a black one to drive her.

                                         July 10 was the last straw.  Crew members, while trying to fit a wig on Faye, were physically abused, and slapped.  Equity was complained to, with the staff asking if someone of Dunaway's unhinged status is fit for the stage.  Staff members feared a hostile work environment, and felt concerned for their safety.

                                          So, Faye is a bitch!  And the winner of this week's award.

                                           But I have a word for Faye.  Because she has never dealt with me!

                                            Faye, Dear,

                                            I am the lovable kid from vaudeville who became a star, and a
                                            monster. That is right, I am Neely O'Hara, and I act like her.
                                            I don't have to live by the stinking rules set down for ordinary
                                            people, because I am NOT ordinary.

                                            If you dared to slap me, Faye, I would have slapped you
                                            right back!  Someone on that show should have given you
                                            the good belt in the mouth you deserved, and then fired you.

                                             You whore!  Doing the bedroom scene in "Network" so
                                              over the top, William Holden claimed to have lost his
                                              professional virginity.

                                               You better run, you 78-year-old dried out old cunt!
                                                You will never work again!

                                     That, dears, is how you deal with the likes of Faye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                     I have had plenty of practice, dolls!

                                     Yes, it's a rotten story!!!!!!!!!!!!!  But I LOVE it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Not Quite Perfect, But Fun Of A Knd, For Its Genre!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                      One thing I have to hand to Aimee Molloy, in this, her debut novel--I did not see the revelation coming!  At all!  I was completely floored, because, by the time of the reveal, the solution I had constructed was blown to threads.

                                         While not the most original plot, "The Perfect Mother" speaks well of the author's ability to generate tension and suspense, as well as examining all the hazards and issues that come with being a mother.  The title is ambiguous.  Outside of Mary Poppins, who is actually a nanny, is there anything such as a "Perfect Mother?"  After reading this novel, one wonders why.

                                             One also wonders why, from this novel, women have children.  Or why some choose not to.  And of those, why are they often regarded, among the maternal community of women, as pariahs?  Child birth and child rearing are purely personal and individual decisions, and in between the suspense plot Molloy constructs, she examines these issues, as well.

                                              If the writing lacks a certain compelling quality, it is because the story is told in a more leisurely fashion.  Which does not hurt the narrative, but for the reader expecting a nail biting page turner, well, then don't look here.

                                                "The Perfect Mother" is that rarity among suspense novels--one that just does not titillate, but makes the reader think!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                    How often does that happen, dolls???????????????????

Is This America, Or What????????????????????

                                   I mean, just look at this trash, girls!  It is glorious!  I know you may not believe me, but this is NOT in South Jersey.  It is actually in Arizona, and I am beginning to wonder, if that state, which I have never visited, is second to New Jersey, when it comes to White Trash status!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                     I am so intrigued, I actually would like to visit Arizona.  But how much heat and trash can I stand?  That is the problem!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                     Not to mention I do not want to return sun baked!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A Childhood Icon!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 Back in my formative years, darlings, the Menlo Park mall was THE place to shop!  It also had, across the street, the Menlo Park Cinema, which was THE place to go to the movies.  I saw BARBRA in "Funny Girl," there.

                                 On a side street, across from the mall, was the International House Of Pancakes, looking as familiar as this photo.  We called it the Pancake House, for short, and I hated it when the name was changed to IHOP!  Like, what does that mean?  And who cares?

                                   But when it had the familiar, Germanic/Dutch looking building, its day was in flower. It was such a treat for children of my age, then, to go there.  I am telling you, girls, it was another piece of that life I wish could have been preserved.

                                    The plain pancakes were my favorite; I was a traditionalist.  But I did occasionally enjoy the Pigs In A Blanket, Silver Dollar Pancakes, and Chocolate Chip Pancakes, which were often so sweet I could barely finish them.

                                     Alas, we have preservation skin care, but not remnants of fond places, just memories.  So, here is to the Pancake House, as I remember it.  Its like will never be seen again.

                                      Culture is going down the tubes, dolls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Do NOT Try This At Home!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                            --Unless you are of a young age!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                            Next to the iconic opening of "The Sound Of Music," the ending of the "Do Re Mi" sequecne, on the steps, is my favorite moment in the film.  As a child, when I first saw the film, I would practice and practice this on my front steps, at home.  Whenever I encountered a set of steps, I would try and do it.

                               Fifty years later, when confronted with a set of steps, I get the urge to try.  I did once at Lincoln Center, which did not turn out well,  but my recent foray was several weeks ago, while at the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens.

                                I discovered I can still make the leap on the steps, forward, but not backward.  Keeping my balance upon landing proved difficult; as for running back up and down the steps, I knew it could end in me splattered out on the ground.

                                 I suppose my days of doing this are over.  And just look at Heather (Menzies), to the right of Julie.  No wonder I wanted to be her, back then!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 I cannot tell anyone what age they should stop.  I cannot speak for every individual on here,  But I can say this.  "The Sound Of Music" came out when the Baby Boomers were children.  Now, we are in our fifties and sixties.

                                  I think that is a good age, to stop, darlings!

                                  Otherwise, your body will make that decision for you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Here Is The Summer's Most Satisfying Novel!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                         Back in 2015, I was completely blown away by Elizabeth's novel, "The Signature Of All Things."  Four years later, here she is with "City Girls," and I am again dazzled by her effort.  The novel is a panoramic history of New York City, from about 1940 to the present. The glamour and the tawdriness of it all are portrayed in great dramatic and descriptive detail,

                                           Vivian Morris, a young girl from a wealthy upstate family in Clinton, New York, flunks out of Vassar College, where tradition dictates she go, in order to become a successful Trophy Wife of the time.  Her parents and brother are dowdy and conventional; Vivian clearly is not, so when she flunks, she is sent to Manhattan, to live with her father's estranged sister, Peg Buell, who runs a small theater company called The Lily Playhouse.  There, Vivian is drawn to the world of theater, not so much performing, but costuming; she is a whiz with a sewing machine.  Like all girls dreaming of New York, Vivian has affairs, gets into a heated scandal, makes friends, loses some, and then reinvents herself all over again.

                                              Written in the form of a memoir letter to her sort of (and you have to read the entire book to get what that means) stepdaughter, Angela, Vivian's story is for girls of all types, theater lovers, and not. I am telling you, gay guys will just eat this novel up, not to mention that they will be actually absorbing genuinely good literature, because Gilbert is such an excellent and meticulous writer, who researched her subject thoroughly.

                                                 I almost wish it had kept going on; that is how good it was.  I can see this on my Ten Best at year's end.

                                                 Go out and grab a copy, at once, and read it!

                                                  It is fit for queens and consorts, alike!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This Is The Image That Helped Redefine My Life!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                               As stated before, fifty years ago, I was fourteen, and my life, or so I thought, was going down the toilet,  I was teased mercilessly throughout eighth grade--and some of those individuals who did so have been covered on here--and any interest I had in math or science that year,  was destroyed, thanks to the Messrs. Barber and Frankowsky.  Barber I blame the most, because I had an aptitude for numbers; I could see them in my head, and figure things out, so, had I been better taught, I might have turned out like Mary- Louise Parker's character, in "Proof."

                              Alas, those quantitative areas were a drag, so, when I came upon a paperback copy of "Valley Of The Dolls," and kept it, I would comfort myself, in between subjects, while doing homework, with the Neely sections.  Because one thing I learned from Neely--"I don't have to live by the stinking rules set out for ordinary people, because I am NOT ordinary."

                              And eighth grade and high school were nothing but.  I definitely did not belong there!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                              But no one grasped it.  So, I comforted myself with Neely.

                              But the back image of the book impacted me in several ways.

                              First, there was Jackie Susann trying to look her most gorgeous, showing how a stunning party gown can even overcome a plug ugly face.  I was no raving beauty, (but later became a Raving Queen!!!!!!!!!!!) though I knew I looked better than Susann.   I did NOT resemble, to quote Truman Capote, "A truck driver in drag." Which is what he said of Susann. Meow!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I am surprised John Simon did not chime in, with another zinger!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                               Then there was the book list on the back, proclaiming that Susann's book had been "number one on The New York Times Bestseller List, for 28 consecutive weeks--eight weeks longer than "The Group" (by Mary McCarthy) or "Exodus" (by Leon Uris), ten weeks more than "Peyton Place" (by Grace Metalious) or "Hawaii" (by James A. Michener), fifteen weeks more than"'Marjorie Morningstar" (by Herman Wouk)."

                                 With Jackie's image, and this "in" reading list that I was given, I was determined that I would wear great outfits, and go to great parties, and read all the "in" books.

                                   I  have, indeed, done that, and much more!  Though, I will level with you, girls--"Hawaii" is the only book listed here I have not read more than once.  Maybe I should.  But life is short, and time is rolling. I keep telling myself I will.  I mean, I have read "The Source" twice.  But I have so much to get to, before I start thinking of another re-read, unless hit by an insatiable craving!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                   What I crave, in this heat, darlings, is a nice, frosted Bellini!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Guess What, Girls????????? I Have Found The Perfect Number For Both Jessie Mueller, And Myself!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                    Now, Jessie, dear, if I were you, I would take a look at this song, so you can see what I mean.

                                     David disagrees with me. He does not think this song would be good for Jessie, although he did say it was perfect for me.

                                       I told him Jessie can sing anything.  I would love to hear her do this!!!!!!!!!!!

                                       The song is "My Rocking Horse Ran Away," originally performed by Betty Hutton, in the 1944 film, "And The Angels Sing."  I just happened to catch this segment of the film by accident, when I was ten, and it just blew me away.

                                         What a challenge for me!  What a song for Jessie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                           It is guaranteed to blow everyone else off the stage!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                           And here is Betty Hutton, to prove it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Fifty Years Ago, Today, Darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                  Now you have to remember, girls, that half a century ago, I was 14, had just graduated from eighth grade, Judy Garland had died the month before, my future was pointed toward high school, and I was firmly entrenched in the world of Jacqueline Susann.

                                   Georges Melies  made the sci-fi classic, "A Trip To The Moon," but the real thing did not happen until 67 years later.  To this day, darlings, I am firmly convinced that the landing looked just like this.

                                     And I remember being disappointed that the walk on the moon was not a Technicolor lit spectacle like MGM gave in 1968's "2001:  A Space Odyssey."

                                       To me, then, it looked like the early days of television.  Or even film of the Melies era, though the costumes were, obviously state of art, for the day.

                                        I also recall that during this time my playmate up the street, Billy Ducca, and I, were having a marathon Monopoly game in his back yard.  The board was on the picnic table, and the weather was sweltering--but we all could tolerate Summers better, then--and so the game was left out all night for us to continue or continue.  I cannot recall when exactly it ended but I do know I did not win.  Monopoly, much as I loved to play it, I did not excel at, because I was too focused.  I always set my sights on Boardwalk and Park Place, no matter the cost, just like, in CAREERS, another Parker Bros. Game, I always set my sights on Hollywood, because I wanted to win that Oscar!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                        And now, here I am, fifty years later.  Though, at the time, I could not conceive of such a thing.

                                         So, these are my reflections, on that day!

                                         And what more apt thing to listen to than "Also Sprach Zarathusta," from
"2001, A Space Odyssey."

                                           Here's to another fifty years  of Happy Landings, dolls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"You Better Run, You Little Tramp! How Dare You Contaminate My Pool?????????????????"

                                  Now, girls, how many times have we been in situations like this, where we had to say those same lines, themselves?

                                    There will always be tramps around, that, time and again, we will have to chase out of our lives.  But they are not the problem, and for Neely, that tramp wasn't the problem.

                                      It was that she married Ted Casablanca, who was a great big closet case!

                                      And there is nothing more dangerous in the LGBT Community than a great big closet case!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                       Of course, the incident above was based on the time, back in the Forties, when Judy Garland came home from Metro, only to find hubby Vincente Minnelli in bed with the pool cleaner!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                            Talk about a closet case!  But Minnelli achieved things, so he is not dangerous. It is the ones who think they can get to these heights, and never do, who are real trouble!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                               As for that pool cleaner, I bet he was from over the Mexican border, and Metro gave him a job as a custodian, to shut him up!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                If there is one good thing girls can learn from Neely, it is this--

                                                Never get involved with closet cases!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Was This The Lesbian Affair Of The Twentieth Century? Or Was It All Gossip??????????????????????????????

                                Jacqueline Susann's advantages were a triumph of style over looks.  I mean, she knew how to dress, do her hair, and surround herself in elegant settings--pictured above--so that she could almost camouflage how  plug ugly she was, which was why she never gained the show biz career she sought.

                                  Ethel Merman was no raving beauty but she had TALENT, and a funny, abrasive personality.  The thought of she and Susann as anything is ridiculous, until one begins to realize how perfectly one complimented the other.

                                     I cannot judge whether they were lesbian lovers or gal pals.  If lesbian, Ethel would have been beans n' franks, while Jackie was strictly lipstick!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                       And this may have the key to it all.  Ethel lacked style, but yearned for it, from what she saw, through Jackie, while Susann hadn't an ounce of talent, no beauty, but saw than TALENT could get a non-beauty somewhere, via Ethel!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                         This is why my life is modeled on Neely.  I love writing, and I know the scope of MY talent, but I am not about to hang out with some plug ugly fag to boost my career!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                            And, besides, I am better looking than Jackie or Ethel!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                            I have the wardrobe to prove it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It Is A Heartbreaker, Girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

     

                                        One of the endorsers of this book was Matthew Thomas,  author of the 2014 novel, "We Are Not Ourselves," set partly in Woodside, Queens, where I once lived, and was so heartbreaking I could not wait to finish it, good though it was, and which I do not think I will ever pick up again.

                                           I have to warn more sensitive readers that one could find this book depressing.

                                            The title, which is referenced in a hopeful scene, wants to provide hope. It ends on a somewhat hopeful note, which I could not buy, because by then The Gleeson and Stanhope families have endured so much, and though, they have come through, with each clan's dysfunctional dynamics, I am not sure they are out of the woods yet.

                                              Anne Stanhope, a mentally ill woman, starts out as the Mother From Hell, like Charlotte Bayes, but by the book's end, I had more sympathy for her, and saw her as much a victim, as some of the others, like Francis Gleeson, and the Stanhopes' son, Peter, who endures alcoholism, and disillusion over his life having gone nowhere but the suburbs in which he grew up.  That is a tough nut for many to crack.  But take it from one who did not end up that way--there are prices to pay for freedom, too.

                                              This novel makes one think about what one has, how content one is, and what could have, or might have been different.  The answers come from the reader's learning them through witnessing each family's heartbreaking drama.

                                                  Miss Keane chronicles the two families with candor and fully rendered personalities. She tries to wrap things up neatly, but leaves one wondering, where it will go from here.  Sure, things may be rosy now, but for how long?

                                                    While not quite as heartbreaking as Thomas' book, I do not recommend this for the overtly emotional.  There were times I just had to put the book down, and pause.

                                                       Which does not mean it is not worth reading.  Just that it is emotionally difficult.                                             

Let's Have A Fun Bitch, To Liven Up The Summer!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 Darlings, who would ever imagine I would be endorsing punk.  But this music is bitchin', girls!  The Shiverettes, a punk group, and their album "Real Shrill Bitches," released on April 18, of this year,  is the most bitchin' music you will ever hear--loud, screeching and annoying.  No wonder it is this week's winner of The Raving Queen's Bitch Of The Week Award.

                                   I guess even sickos have to take a break sometime.  And this heat is such a hindrance, dolls. Who wants to kill anyone in this weather?  Too much trouble.  Just give me some Bellinis and a pitcher of Sangria!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                      I hoped to find a track for you to listen to.  But, the only way to do it is to go to The Shiverettes page, and listen.

                                      Meoooooooooooooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                       What a bunch of bitches!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Lamb Chops, Who Is This Actor Playing This Fine, Young Man???????????????????????

                                 This is the weight lifter, on the America's Best commercial.  Now, we all love the owl, and he is the cutest, but, girls, come on, this delicious thing cannot help catching the eye. He may not be some luscious vanilla milk shake, like Colin Jost, but he is one good looking strawberry soda.

                                   But who is the actor playing him?  And why can't we see more of him?  Of course, I mean more of that body, but I also mean more of him on other ads and shows.  This kind of notice should be a breakthrough in his career, and I am proud to help!

                                     Maybe if we all worked out like him, we could look like this, too!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                     Come on, America's Best, tell us who he is!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Satisfying Literary Fiction, Darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                "Disappearing Earth," Julia Phillips' debut novel, is hard to describe.  It starts out with a pair of pre-pubescent sisters, Aloya and Sylvia, living in a remote Russian peninsula, being abducted by a sicko.  The time span of the novel is a year, wherein the reader is given investigatory updates, insights into other characters, and the social mores of the community, and social class differences. Did you know, girls, that deer herders are looked down on, here?  Can you believe it?  Hmmm...if the went further north, and worked for Santa, they would be treated differently.

                                     It takes the reader awhile to realize what Phillips is doing.  At first, the chapter months seem to be a collection of short stories, with references to the abduction,  Eventually another abductor's story, Lilia, a teen aged girl, is introduced, and things come together, and get going, especially in the last 100 pages.

                                      This novel aims high, and succeeds.  Some people I know were disappointed with this book, but, darlings, I just loved it.

                                        It's no beach read.  It challenges and stimulates.

                                        What more could one want, dolls?????????????????

Girls, Here Is This Summer's Thriller!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                         Let's start with Megan Kanka.  Because I thought that is where this book was going.

                                         On July 29, 1994--25 years ago, this year--Megan, 7, at the time,  and living in Hamilton Township, NJ was murdered by Jesse Timmendequas, a neighbor, whom no one knew was a known sex offender.  He lured Megan into the house, on the pretext of showing her his puppy, and she was raped and murdered.  The case shocked the nation, led to Megan's Law, and now all sex offenders have to be registered.

                                            Which is where I thought "The Rumor," Lesley Kara's excellent debut novel, was going to focus on.  But I was wrong.

                                               The bare bones of the plot is simple.  A group of women, living in a British suburb, make the discovery that an adult who committed a notorious crime is living in their neighborhood, and the rumors start, and sparks fly.

                                                 But the person in  question is not a man.  It is a woman, who, when she was ten years old, and named Sally McGowan, murdered a younger boy, Robbie Morris.

This called to my mind the case of Mary Bell, of England, who, at ages 10 and 11 killed two young  boys--Martin Brown, 4 and Brian Howe, 3.  She came from the worst circumstances imaginable--her father was an abusive drunk,  and her mother, who had her at 17, was a prostitute, who, as Mary got older, tried to incorporate her daughter into the profession.

Mary did the killing, but Betty Bell should have been imprisoned, too.  Mary is now 62, living under a new identity, with a daughter, and now graddaughter.  As for Betty, she would be 79, and if alive, I hope she is a wrinkled, syphilitic old crone, like Bette Davis, as Mildred Rogers, at the end of "Of Human Bondage."

What is more, Lesley Kara herself has said the idea came to her from personal experience.  Within a town where she was once living dwelt someone who supposedly committed a notorious crime years ago.  Lesley did not start a rumoer, but became fascinated by such a thing being found out, and what might happen, which is what her novel examines.

With all due respect, I will take a stab at whom Lesley might be referring to.  One is, or course, the aforementioned Mary Bell.

But, most likely, and I know I am going out on a limb here, is that the person in question was the young boy on the left--Jon Venables, who, on February 17, 1993, when he and Robert Thompson  were just 10, abducted James Bulger, at age 2, walked him about town, in the Liverpool area,  where they tortured and killed him by the railroad tracks, leaving his body on the tracks, where a train ran over it.  He was dead by the time that happened.

The boys served time, and were released, with new identities.  Thompson has kept a low profile, as has Mary Bell.  But Venables has had to undergo four identity changes, was living with a known pedophile in his twenties, and has been arrested on charges of child pornography.  I always thought him the most dangerous of the two, and feel validated by all this.

But now I go out on another limb.  None of these children, including Sally McGowan in the novel, should ever have been released.  It is my believe that violent sociopathic children are incurable.  Go ahead and attack me, but I stand by it.

Kara's book, to me, endorses what I say.  But it fails to explain why such have not killed again.  My stand comes on the idea that, no matter how long they live, the possibility of killing again is a constant reality, as they have done it before.  I would keep my eye on Robert Thompson too.

Mary Bell, and her friend Norma Bell (no relation) were the basis for the characters of Jenny Brandt and Tara Padden, played to perfection by Hallie Hirsch and Madeline Blue, in the now 20 year old classic "Law And Order" episode, "Killerz," which I urge you to watch.  The last shot exemplifies all I stand by.

As for Kara's novel, it is a fabulous debut.  I am sure she is familiar with everything mentioned in here, especially since she manages, at one point, to reference Myra Hindley.  While alive, both she and her partner, Ian Brady were the Most Hated In Britain.  Now, that distinction goes to Thompson and Venable.

Just one thing.  Neither Kara's novel, nor I, can answer why those like Sally McGowan have never killed again.

However, I would not want these folk in my neighborhood, either.

Read this novel, girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Happy Bastille Day, Darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                              It is always nice to have another holiday in July, girls, but the problem with Bastille Day is this--French cuisine being so rich, what does one eat in the heat of Summer to celebrate this French event?

                                Today being Sunday, La Grenouille is closed, and who wants to cook their way through any of Julia Child's books in a heated Summer kitchen?  Even if the AC is going in the next room?

                                  Personally, I am taking the bitch approach.  I am going to knit in bitterness, like Madame Da Farge, and eat some cake, as Marie Antoinette suggested.

                                   Or was that Norma Shearer???????????????????