I got my W2 two days ago, so the anxiety has waned a little. And it my beloved's birthday month, which makes it special. It also would have been mine, had I been born full term. But I wasn't; I was two months premature!!!!!!!!!!!
So, I feel a lot better about January than I used to. I can't believe it went so fast! From the Holidays, to this!!!!!!!!! If only this Winter Of Our Discontent would end as quickly!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Hope you made it safe through this month. We stand now on the periphery of February, and what a month that is--short, Candlemass Eve, Bernadetrte, the Oscars--Oh, my God!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Be careful tomorrow, if any of you out there are still virgins!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Meanwhile, it has been a great January, and I will see you all in February!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
On the same day we lost Colleen, girls, Rod McKuen also left us, at the age of 81!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I loved NPR's calling him "The Cheeseburger To Poetry's Haute Cuisine," because that is exactly what he was--a lowbrow poet. Not that it stopped him from being successful. He even wrote the music and lyrics to the song, "Jean," from "The Prime Of Miss Jean Brodie." Even I can sing that one, girls!!!!!!!!!!!
Mr. McKuen, at 81, died from respiratory failure, as a result of pneumonia. Another figure memorable to my generation bites the dust. Now, I am no scholar of poetry; I may read Sylvia Plath, but that's something else. But, as one who studied T.S. Eliot and such in college, even I knew McKuen was no world beater as a poet. In fact, if you want to get picky, the true genius in the pop poetry world, who is still alive and kicking, is Leonard Cohen!!!!!!!!! He peaks the truth!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Rod was a hack who caught the tenor of the times and became successful at it. He will be remembered now, but, when my generation fully passes, I wonder.
Still, respects to the family, and condolences. Rest In Peace, Rod!
You made your statement, and you made it well!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The Saga is a vanished literary genre, that flourished from about the Fifties to the Seventies. These were novels of at least five hundred, veering more to a thousand plus, pages, that usually dealt with multi-generations of one family. True, there was "Gone With The Wind" in 1936, and "Anthony Adverse" before that, but not until the advent of writers such as Leon Uris, James A. Michener, Susan Howatch, Taylor Caldwell and Helen Hooven Satmyer, did the genre flourish. I know this for a fact, because from my teen on, I read them all.
Well, this past Thursday, the 29th, we lost of one of the last of these authors, (Miss Howatch is still alive in her seventies!!!!!!!!) Colleen McCullough, who passed on, at the age of 77, from a long illness. I would say more than a series of them, because Miss McCullough was always what one might call a full figured gal, and when she was diagnosed with hypothyroidism, became even bigger. (I also have this condition; hopefully I will not grow this large!!!!!!!!) But bigger than even Collen's figure was the 1977 breakthrough book for which she will be remembered, despite writing others--"The Thorn Birds."
It came along in 1977, and I had not seen a book sweep the public like this in my life. My parents recalled it was like when "Gone With The Wind" first appeared. It dealt with an Australian family, the Clearys, principally its youngest daughter, Meggie, but its selling point, and the reason it became such a sensation, was its forbidden love between Meggie and the pastoral protagonist, Father Ralph De Bricassart. Oh, my God!!!! Such a thing had never been explored before, and millions devoured the book for this alone. On a second reading, just several years ago, I found it unbeatable for its compelling descriptions of the land, class differences, and the romance of Meggie and Ralph. And Meggie's daughter, the actress Justine O'Neill. As I read it this time, I reveled in it, but I knew I was reading the last of a kind of novel that does not get written anymore, and that saddens me As does the passing of one of the genre's leading contributors.
Thank God "The Thorn Birds" sits on my shelf, where it can be, and will be, read again, and again. Unlike Colleen, whose like has all but disappeared.
I can think of no better tribute to Colleen than the final lines of her signature novel--
"The bird with the thorn in its breast, it follows an immutable law; it is driven by it knows not what, to impale itself, and die singing. At the very moment the thorn enters there is no awareness in it of the dying to come; it simply sings and sings until there in not life left to utter another note. But we, when we put the thorns in our breasts, we know. We understand. And still we do it. Still we do it."
Rest In Peace, Colleen, Novelist, neurophysiologist researcher, (at Yale, no less!!!!!!!!) and woman of brilliance. You will be deeply missed, and your kind shall be seen less often.
A sad comment on our culture indeed!
Thanks for enriching it, Colleen!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Bruce Jenner wants to become a woman? Now? At the age of 65???????? What is the point? What sense does it make? I might as well go out, and transform myself into Hayley Mills!!!!!!!!!! It makes about as much sense!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Bruce, honey, you've got some problems. For starters, you are going to make one ugly woman. You won't even be able to get cast as Vera Charles, in a bus and truck tour of "Mame," so what are you going to do with this new identity????????????
And what name are you going to call yourself? Bernice???????? Bruschetta??????? I prefer the latter, myself!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
What is next, dolls????? I just don't know! Between Joel Grey and Bruce, it would not surprise me if Joan Didion were to grow a pair of balls! There are some who would say she had them, anyway!!!!!!!!!! And we all know about Tallulah!!!!!!!!!!!!!
But Bruce Jenner is prove positive of an axiom I expect all my girls to maintain!!!!!!!!
It does not pay to hang around with the Kardashians!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Like, who the hell would believe it? Come on, Joel, honey, you have GOT to be kidding.
First of all, you are 82, so coming out at this age is a bit beyond the point. It would have been braver, if you had come out earlier. And, yes, I am criticizing you. Calling Neil Patrick Harris a hero, when he is an over inflated talent, whose sexuality I am not even sure of. It wouldn't surprise me if he does women on the side.
Which brings me to another thing, Joel. You were married for 24 years. You produced two children; Jennifer, whose career has gone nowhere, and James, who is a chef. Now, he might be gay. But you? You had these children by doing "the nasty," so, as far as I am concerned, you are NOT gay. But, if you want to say you are, who am I to stop you?
As for all the remarks you heard from your aunts growing up in Ohio, why didn't you have the courage to stand up to them? And don't give me that "it was a different time" excuse. I don't buy it.
You want to say you are gay, Joel? Who am I to stop you? But, honestly, hon, do you really think you are going to score? Even if you place an add in "Silver Daddies????????"
What you ARE, Joel, dear, is a gay icon. Have been one for years, darling, ever since you did "Cabaret" on stage.
But don't mistake a gay icon for a gay identity. The two often do not go together, and in your case, Joel, it's a no brainer.
And, in gay terms, doll, you are what is known as a pushy bottom!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I thought I knew my sociopaths, but Gabriel Olds' performance as Sean McKinnon in the 1993 "Law And Order" episode "Pride And Joy" had me fooled, for a time. Maybe because I related to him. I was ashamed of where I went to school, some of my classmates, and especially my teachers, who were so bottom of the barrel, but I never was ashamed of my parents or abused them.
Sean simply got too big for his britches. OK, he has the brains to get into the Ivy League. So he wants to scale the social ladder, but what he fails to realize is that, no matter how high his achievements, even if he ends up with a place of his own on Nantucket, he can never escape his past. Instead of just moving up and on, while acknowledging your origins, or being content in having overcome them, Sean decided to eliminate his past. And that consisted of destroying his father, and abandoning his mother and sister--which is just what he would have done, had he not been caught.
You could see right away that Katherine McKinnon, brilliantly played by Pamela Payton Wright, was an abused woman. In most cases the family is being held captive by an abusive patriarch. This is the first case I can recall where the family is being held captive by an abusive son. Because he is ashamed of his father, and his father is not ashamed of himself, Sean resorts to having his uncle, who is an accountant, accompany him on Princeton interviews, and such, to give a better impression. Meanwhile, at home, he belittles and physically torments his father for being what he is, and being blamed by Sean for standing in his way of what he wants to become. All of which eventually culminates in the murder of the father.
When I saw that a very young Lauren Ambrose was playing the sister, Maureen McKinnon, I was sure she was the guilty one. That I could be taken in by Sean, initially, shows I need to study up on my sociopaths. But Carolyn McCormick, as Doctor Elizabeth Olivett, came to the rescue. It turned out that Sean had taken over control of his family's finances, because he wanted to make sure he got to college, and he was ashamed of his father. According to Dr. Olivettt, an adolescent taking control of the family finances is a textbook sign of a sociopath. I did not know that.
Fortunately, there are no teens in my house. Any in yours, girls! Better keep an eye on those purse strings.
Good thing Sean never got to Princeton. The student body would have been reduced to bodies!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Lock this scum up, where he will REALLY be at the bottom of the social scale!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Darlings, I am telling you, it is simply amazing how many orange clad men and women turn up on this blog, Bitch Of The Week, or otherwise. Too bad the orange does not, in these cases, represent some kind of fashion sense.
This week's winner of The Raving Queen Bitch Of The Week Award is Jon Benson, late of Scottsdale, Arizona. Actually, he has been holding this title for almost thirty years. You see, Jon Benson is one scary guy. He is the real life version of George Harvey in "The Lovely Bones." Just listen to this!
Jon grew up in the affluent section of Scottsdale. Average until puberty, he adopted a quirky, magician-like persona that made him popular with some of the kids. Especially as he had a sunken fort in his back yard, where he would invite kids to party--drink and drug in secret.
Except that is not all he invited some boys for. He invited some for sexual gratification--his. Jon was a budding sexual predator. One of the kids told Greg Holman, who lived in the neighborhood. Greg was a nice kid, in the ninth grade, and had a reputation for protecting and watching out for the more vulnerable kids in the neighborhood.
Shortly after Greg was told what happened at Jon's, he was playing after school with those he hung out with. Jon approached Greg, and invited him to his place to party. And that is the last anyone ever saw of Greg Holman.
What is clear is that Jon killed Greg. What is unclear is why. Did Jon know he had been informed on, by Greg? Did he have the hots for him? Did Greg go, knowingly, intending to confront Jon? This was never determined, and Greg's body and case went missing for decades. In fact, when the remains were found, in what had been Jon's backyard fort, (the kid whom Greg protected, now an adult, finally came forward) both the head and hands were missing--and have never been found.
His guilt was unquestionable. But because the crime had been committed when he was 15, on October 24, 1978, Benson, now an adult, was sentenced as a minor. Now, there is a conviction for having lured a young boy from a park in 2006 for sexual reasons, but, still, as of October 8, 2014, Jon Benson is walking among us.
If you see this bitch anywhere near you, girls, don't just shun him. Report the sighting to the police, and drive him out.
Don't wait for an icicle to mete out justice, like with George Harvey!!!!!!!!!!
This story highlights all the worst aspects of American Corporate Culture!!!!!!!!!!
Poor Philip Perea. Yes, he did commit suicide, by shooting himself, in the chest,with a gun. on Monday morning, in front of the FOX's New York headquarters building, but, as I far as I am concerned, the organization, and all its higher ups, pulled the trigger.
Philip was only 41 years old. He was successful enough to secure a job in the demanding profession of broadcast journalism. But all that ended on January 26, when he fired a bullet into his chest.
Mr. Perea had been working as a producer at FOX's auxiliary station, in Austin, Texas. He had been there for only ten months, when he was unceremoniously fired. What is not known is whether he had some mental health issues prior to his termination from FOX, what those issues were, and what he had done before the Austin gig. One imagines he worked in broadcast journalism.
He obviously had axes to grind. The morning of his death, he was handing out fliers, prior to taking his life, stating that via workplace bullying tactics, his career had been destroyed.
It seems the biggest criticism made against him, was a story in Austin, where he was accused of embarrassing the local police chief, via a photo he ran of him. Like, huh???????????
And he went on to record bullying and harassment, saying that after he fired them, the higher ups said they would send his file to whatever employer her pursued, so he would never work again, they would call his home, threaten his family.....what is this, a news organization or the MOB?????????
It is FOX News, which, in addition to being asshole Right Wing, is probably worse than the aforementinoned Italian organization. I hate to say this, but I will. In a sense, I don't think Perea should have turned the gun on himself. I think he should have aimed and shot those higher ups who did this to him. Otherwise, they win--and they know it. True, while Perea would most likely have gone to prison--though I would have argued for his defense-- at least his family would have an opportunity to visit him; one that is now irrevocably denied.
Workplace suicides are becoming far more frequent, and it is this, not just Perea's death, that disturbs me. Is there no sense of personal identity except to the corporate God who owns one????????? Why do so many feel that way???????????? Even more, while do so many workers misplace their loyalties--leave the job for its hours, and the rest of the time to your family, loved ones, interests, whatever.
But they don't. Workplace culture is engulfing society, and with no relief in sight, workers who feel betrayed, and often are, act out in terribly self-destructive ways that can only impact on others.
So FOX News pulled that trigger, sure as Perea. His supervisors should be charged with, at the very least reckless endangerment. Otherwise, companies will be given carte blanche, as to how shabbily they can treat their employees. Like slaves.
Perea's only mistake was deciding to work for FOX News. He should have realized what he was getting into!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
First of all, February 3 happens to be Blythe Danner's birthday, so why upstage that, with a visit to town, from Diana--oh, excuse me, Miss Ross!!!!!!! Miss Ross? Miss Ross, my ass!!!!!!!! Guess she can't play bigger show palaces, so it has come down to her performing in refurbished urban ones. Maybe it will remind you of your roots in the projects, Diana, which you could do something for, regarding the people of Detroit!!!!!!!!! But that would involve parting with your own money, which is something you will never do. It is all about filling your coffers!!!!!!!!!
And just what are your children doing? Living off your career! At least Melissa Rivers is involved in lawsuits against the medical clinic where her mother died. Your daughters should be pursuing a law suit against you, bitch, for your culpability in the death of Florence Ballard, which you are never going to be forgiven for! At least on here!
The Injustice Of The Twentieth Century World began with what you did to Florence Ballard. And now you think you are coming to Brooklyn all grand, and celebrate a show palace.
Up your ass, Miss Ross! Go back to the projects and piss in the halls, like you used to do, before Berry Gordy made you his Blow Job Mistress!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No one wants to see some skanky ho' perform, anymore, and these days, Di, you look skanky!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Ain't no love lost between Miss Ross and myself, darlings! I am better than she is!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Actually, I think this came out in 2013, but I did not get around to reading Elizabeth Gilbert's novel, till this year. And while it was my fourth book read, it was the first new one I would truly call great. From the moment I opened it, I was hooked.
This came as a surprise for me, for Gilbert's reputation has been built on her breakthrough non-fiction book, "Eat, Pray, Love," which only held any interest for me because of how well she wrote on the Italy. The rest of it was her own self-aggrandizing.
So, I was unsure, when this book came out, if she could even write fiction. I had to admit I was curious. Well, girls, you are in for a treat!
First, if any of you, like me, have shame or regret over not having taken Advanced Placement Biology, when you finish this book it will be like having taken a course!!!!!!!! And Gilbert's written forays into science are not text bookish in any way, but have a poetry all their own that will make some regret they did not go into these professions. Probably, because, like me, they had cookie cutter teachers, not individuals of real inspiration and spirit, like Gilbert's heroine, Alma Whittaker.
When it comes to scope, for a relatively short--500 page--book the scope and span is epic. From Philadelphia, to Tahiti, to Amsterdam; to emotional forays into altruism, sibling estrangement, sexually repressed spinsterhood, repressed homosexuality, Gilbert covers a wide terrain that many would take a thousand plus pages to develop. Her prose is clear, concise, and structured.
As such, it offers non-stop reading pleasure! I truly did not want this book to end, and the last book I can recall feeling that way about was "The Luminaries."
Gilbert's fictitious work far exceeds the quality of her non-fiction success. I look forward, avidly, to what fictional turn she will take next.
An underrated writer, not to be reckoned with!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I have to admit I never warmed to Flo, the Progressive representative. I know she wants to come off as warm and fuzzy, but when I saw that commercial of her with the two young guys, where she is lurking in the shadows, and one says, "We can still see you," to which she says, "No, you can't," I knew I would never be endeared to her.
Not to say that I don't admire Stephanie Courtney, the actress who plays her. She does a wonderful job, and I am happy for her, having found a career signature. Who can forget what Madge, The Manicurist, did for Jan Miner, or Josephine, The Plumber, for Jane Withers?????????
So, bravo, Stephanie!!!!!!!!!!! But Flo? Flo is a bitch!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
There is this recent commercial, set in what looks like a locker room, where Flo comers on as the compassionate coach, confronting the callow young man, who has just made a misstep at Progressive. The scene goes fine; she even suggests they go for ice cream. He perks up, and asks about sprinkles. Suddenly, Flo's face changes, and, a little too admonishing, in my opinion, she says, "Sprinkles are for winners!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Fuck you! Another non-empathic, capitalist bitch!!!!!!!!!!!! So, now I know--Flo is a big phony!!!!!!!!!! Just like the company she represents. Not that I was planning on doing business with Progressive anytime soon, but after this ad, you can count on me not going near it at all!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And Stephanie, I would tell your writers to give your character more empathy.
Because Flo is not nearly as loved as Beatrice!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
With all the talk of the impending, potentially historical making storm, what am I doing here? Why, to bitch to all of you, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
If things start getting real bad this afternoon, I am not going to be any dedicated worker bee, I am hitting the road, and going home! Let them try and replace me!!!!!!!!!! That's their problem, not mine. Mine is staying safe and secure in this storm, and if anyone out there wants to give me an argument, they can go ahead!!!!!!!!!!!1
Why don't things just shut down until Wednesday? It might be easy, overall.
Except the theater, of course, because THAT is essential.
But, then, many shows are dark on Mondays!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The wedding in Venice was one of the most spectacular, ever, and didn't the couple look stunning????? Like figures atop a wedding cake!!!!!!!!!!!
Well, that is, fundamentally, what they are. Come on, girls, who among us out there did not realize that poor Amal only married since last Summer, was the cover-up for George's homosexuality????????
I wasn't fooled a bit by all this glitz, loves!!!!!!!! And I bet you George and Alana weren't, either! She knew her function, so why is she chaffing at the bit, now???????
Or maybe it is George who is chaffing at the bit? Now, he has to come off as respectable?????? Now, he cannot play his down low sex-pig games, like he used to--the ones those in power knew about, but looked the other way!!!!!!!!!!
Well, no one's looking the other way, now, Georgie boy, and that has your balls in a knit! They must be turning blue!!!!!!!!!!! What I want to know is--from whom did the edict come that George get married now????????? He has gotten away with things this long, with no career harm, so who put him in this position, now????????? Not poor Amal; she was just the pawn!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And now she has had it with being The Beard!!!!!!!! I can't blame her, but the girl knew what she was getting into!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I wouldn't necessarily go after George, Amal! I would go after the idiot or idiots who put you both up to this!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I mean, you don't see anyone messing with Leo!!!!!!!!! Another one we've known about for years!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
That is Hollywood, darlings--the metaphor for America's hypocrisy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I am telling you, the moves look so simple, right? Well, if we just start our day like this, we might not just begin exercising, darlings, we will assuming one of the steps in the great choreographic piece that is the "Somewhere" ballet from "West Side Story". Yes,darlings, that is Carol Lawrence, front center, and to her left, is Larry Kert. The 1957 Original Cast.
The photo is not only gorgeous, but inspiring. If everyone were to get out on the floor and do this, from there it would go to bending and stretching. And then......who knows??????
Plus you will be on your way to learning one of the greatest of musical theater dance pieces.
Yes, darlings, there IS a place, for us! See you on the floor mat, tomorrow morning!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Paul Cox, a native of Larchmont, New York,--a place I wanted to live at at one time, because there resided, next to each other, The Kerrs (Walter, the drama critic, and Jean, the author of "Please Don't Eat The Daisies," among others, and the Killileas, whose matriarch, Marie, wrote two books about her disabled child overcoming adversity, "Karen!" and "With Love, From Karen!"--was a troubled soul, who had the disadvantage of growing up in a self-righteous, Right Wing, Irish Catholic family. This meant there was not much hope for him. First, among this tribe, is there any other kind, than self-righteous and Right Wing? And second, the Coxes had six other children, so a troubled soul could not be bothered with, let alone helped, when a couple, as this one was, was trying to ascend the social scale of Larchmont!!!!!!!!!!!!!
As a result, they could not be bothered about Paul's troubles in school; they thought, he was just a difficult, unruly kid. What is interesting was, as things got worse, and the drinking started at thirteen, when his parents finally took him to a psychiatrist, he was diagnosed with a learning disability that had gone unnoticed, but, had it, might have enabled Paul to overcome his deficiencies in school, found a niche, and achieved success. But he did not, and the ones he saw responsible, and held mounting resentment for this, were his parents.
Had Paul murdered them, I would have found the whole thing more understandable. But he did not, and the Coxes had better realize how lucky they are, because it is without question they were the intended target.
When Paul had been born, his parents had been living on a less tony street in Larchmont. There is evidence that he was a happy child there. When he was older, they moved to a more upscale region, near the water, and he was not happy leaving that house. Which makes what happened have an odd kind of synchronicity.
On the night of December 31, 1988, going into January 1, 1989, Paul and his friends were out binge drinking. Paul got so drunk he smashed a car into a road handle, and then walked away in a stupor. While he was in this state, he walked home, and, not fully realizing what he was doing (but realizing to some extent) walked, not to the home, where he lived, but to his former childhood home, on Lincoln Street. Currently, there resided an Indian family, The Chervus, a husband and wife couple, both of whom were doctors. Several years before, when Paul was an innocent looking teen, he went to his childhood home and asked Mrs. Chervu if he could have another look at the place he'd been born and raised in. She coldly refused. The bitch!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Because he was in such an alcoholic blackout, on the night in question he went into what he must have thought at the time was his childhood home, so the couple that he slew he in rage he thought were his parents. Only they weren't. Too bad, in a way.
The case went unsolved in years, till Cox joined AA and began sobering out. He began having nightmares and flashbacks to this incident, whereupon he realized that he was responsible. But, instead of turning himself in, he shared this at a meeting, not knowing what to do. Someone in the group went to the police and told them. Now, I know this is a controversial act, considering the question of anonymity in the 12 step group community, but I don't care--if someone openly confesses to a murder or rape or molestation, someone in that group should have enough moral conscience to tell. I certainly would, and I applaud the person in Cox's group who did.
So, now, the scum is behind bars for two twenty five year terms. That is pretty much the rest of his life, so he is off the street. As for his parents, they stood by him, realizing he is sick, and is where he belongs.
Too bad they did not get him the help he needed when young. They might have avoided all this, and the Chervus might still be alive!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Several weeks ago, when I went with my beloved to his dental visit, I discovered, to my pleasure, that "Highlights For Children," a magazine I received in the lower grades, during the early sixties, was still being published in hard copy. Not only that, I was delighted to find that several of my favorite features were still there.
Like "Goofus and Gallant." I just loved them, and here they are, just as I remember them. Now, there was a bad part of me that wanted to be Goofus, but I just could not, because he would do things, as shown here, like be unkind to the animals. That is something I would never do, because I love animals, still do, and you just ask the dogs, especially the Head Dog, Cujo, on 77th Street, in Brooklyn!!! I just love them, and they love me! In fact, as far back as sixth grade, I was actually considering becoming a veterinarian. But that was before that Susan Sher, Robert Barber, and John Frankowsky ruined math and science, for me. I won't forget, you mother fuckers! I may be Gallant, but I guess that is the Goofus part of me talking!!!!!!!!
Then there was "The Timbertoes." They were a family of little wooden figures, where you could see the bolts connected to the limbs, which fascinated me. Their purpose was to teach humanistic values through family dynamics. I just loved them, and they were one of the first things I would turn to, when I would get my monthly issue of "Highlights."
One last thing about "Goofus and Gallant," before going on to other things, I hated Goofus for how he always mistreated animals, and, if I had known then, what I know today, I can now say, with absolute certainty. that if an adult version of "Goofus And Gallant" was written today, Goofus would now be one of America's
first rate serial killers!
But the strip I think I liked best of all was "The Bears." This was also another exercise in family humanistics; however, it was easier to warm to them, as they were alive and fuzzy, while The Timbertoes, for all their sweetness, were not alive.
Being the age I was, back then, the bear I most identified with was Piddy. He was the youngest; his oldest siblings being Woozy and Poozy. I was always struck by how the name "Pidddy" sounded like the word "pity," so, when I became old enough to learn the expression "pity party," I made it into a "Piddy Party." Guess I was just trying to hang on to that sense of innocence and optimism, I had, up to about second grade. This was the year when I got into an argument with my second grade teacher, Mrs. Beinhower, whom I did not like, and told her, "I am a tax payer, and I demand my rights!" She was so non-plussed she didn't know what to do, so after being stunned for a solid minute, she burst out laughing.
Unfortunately, they are no longer included. They were stopped, in 1989, resurfaced briefly in 1998, and then no more! I wonder why, and I demand them back!!!!!!!!!!!!
Because, then, I believed things would be like "The Timbertoes," "The Bears." and "The Little Bear" books forever. That may not be possible, but if one looks closely in what one most treasures, one can find that things actually are still that way.
Which goes to show what "Highlights" did for me! I am so glad it is still around, and I wish I saw more children reading it, than texting, which is only going to give them sexual dexterity, once they hit puberty. Forget about brains!
Speaking of brains, in my day, the last page of the magazine was always a series of questions called "Headwork." That was missing from the issue I looked at. It needs to be brought back.
"Highlights" was a highlight of my childhood. I wonder for how many of us ex-children out there, it was for you, too????????????
This is the sort of esoterica that makes me The Raving Queen. What brought this to the forefront of my altogether sane mind was that haven of New Orleans cuisine, Galatoire's. Having a craving for their fare, if not a return visit, I perused the menu, and found one of their specialties is Classic Steak Diane. I immediately asked my beloved to make it, if I downloaded the recipe!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Steak Diane was the culinary rage of the mid-twentieth century. This would have been the fifties and sixties, when I was growing up. Something went off in my head, and when I looked at the recipe for Steak Diane, I realized I had been eating all during my early life.
My mother was an accomplished cook, but whether she knew she was going High End on these nights I cannot be sure. As called for, it requires cubed beef steak, dipped in flour, cooked in drippings, and covered over with a gravy mushroom sauce.
To answer the posted question, the Diane in the dish refers to the Goddess Of The Hunt, Diana!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This was served often in my house, growing up. Whether to appease the appearance--I mean, it looks like shit!!!!!!!!--or because my creative juices were flowing, I gave this dish, when I was quite small, around five or so, the name "Brief's Party Meat."
I have no idea how I came up with this, but for the twenty more years my mother lived on Earth and cooked, she would refer to this name, if I asked what was for dinner that night.
I had no idea we were being fed Steak Diane!!!!!! I wonder if my mother or father did?????????????
Maybe they were more ahead of their time than I thought!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
That damned Dandy Mott has been asking for it. Some wannabe Southern Queen--aren't they always the worst???--who thinks he can become a Broadway star. They should have sent Dandy to the real horror of New York, where his vision of reality would crumble at the actual one show biz offers.
But that would have not been as satisfying as last night. While nothing will ever top the head of Celia Weston as that bitch, Lillian Hemmings, floating in a jar of formaldehyde, watching Dandy drown in Houdini's tank, was a close second,. And the producers knew their gay audience, because there were plenty of shots of Finn Wittrock, as Dandy, he of the nice body, in his white briefs, as he drowns!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Seldom has death been so delicious! As the freaks who watched, said, "It's a hell of a show!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Of course, what preceded it made Dandy deserving. The wannabe owner of the show, which is now all about him, decides to eliminate the competition, by going around with a pistol, and killing all the freaks! Flipper Boy, Amazon, everyone but Jimmy Darling, Desiree Dupree and the Tattler Twins--they ARE survivors, darlings!!!!!!!!!--are blown away before our eyes in a scene that was almost too graphic and emotionally upsetting to watch!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Meanwhile, Jessica has her moments as Elsa. My favorite was her encounter with the Hollywood receptionist--a stand-in for Ida Koverman or Marcella Rabwin, perhaps?????--whom she confronts. When the secretary says to her, "If you ask me, your act is stale--Marlene did it better," Elsa lashes out, and smacks this bitch across the face, which is, of course, my answer for everything!!!!!!!!!!!! Good for you, Elsa!!!!!!!!!!! That thing will never eat lunch in that town again.
Elsa is befriended by Michael Beck (David Burtka, Neil Patrick Harris' partner) whom she marries, after he becomes her manager. The whole things turns out to be a sham, because fame has its price. Michael is scum, Elsa is a star, but she is bored; she was happiest when she ran the freak show, though she did not know it. Do any of us ever, darlings??????? I think I do. I know I am most happy now, with my beloved!!!!!!!!!!!!
Things catch up to Elsa. The studio head informs her of the massacre at the freak show, that it has been discovered she made a snuff movie in Germany, which is how she lost her legs, and Hedda Hopper is going to make it all public. But Elsa stands her ground. She will not perform on Halloween, but then she changes her mind, and in a phantasmagoirc sequence, commits suicide to a David Bowie song, where she is welcomed in the next world, by all her friends--Ma Petite--so good to have her back!!!!--Ethel, and those who have gone before her. She will spend Eternity here, and we should all hope our Eternities are as fortunate!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Meanwhile, what about those Tattler Twins? What I want to know is--was that wedding to Dandy real, or just a hallucinogen, to get him into the Houdini tank???????? I think I am answering my own question, but Sarah Pauslon--both of her!--demonstrated that those Tattlers are shrewd cookies, who do not suffer fools gladly!!!!!!!! To think they end up, happily, with Jimmy! And have a baby! While Desiree ends up with Malcom!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It was a brilliant evening and an end to one of the best examples of TV I have seen in a long time!!!!!!!!!!!
Will Jessica come back? I wonder, but I hope! There would be a gap without her!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Poor MERYL! Sitting there, watching Gracie playing Lizard Girl, getting murdered, and wondering where she went wrong!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Farewell, 'Freak Show!' You will be loved, and missed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Girls, I am telling you, every so often someone comes along to show how justified the Salem Witch trials and European Witch burnings were. This week's winner of the Raving Queen Bitch Of The Week Award has not only done one of the most despicable things ever to earn this title, she also possesses a name that is so pretentious, not to mention difficult to pronounce or write, that she is unworthy.
Her name is Hyphernkemberly Dorvilier. That is some mouthful, hons! Now, just what did this bitch do????????? The 22 year old slut gave birth to a baby, in secret, on Friday, January 16, took it out to Simontown Road, and lit the baby, still attached to the placenta and umbilical cord, with a can of WD-40!!!!!!!!!!!!!
"Burn, baby burn!" is what she thought!
Well, someone has to speak out for this baby, who did not deserve this!!!!!!!! Why does trash like this keep giving birth???????? There is no excuse for it with birth control, and such, and don't give me religion here, because her deed indicates not only does she have no religion, she has no SOUL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The baby, a girl, whom the family plans to bury, as Angelica, was said by the mother to be dog waste.
What to do, with this bitch?
An asylum???????? No, she would only get attention there.
I say lock her in a woman's prison ward. Because when those babes find out what she did, they will tear her limb from limb. A fitting end to one so despicable!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I would bet some of those inmates are hoping she comes to them, so they can get her hands on her!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Tear her up, girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Girls, I am telling you, since Sunday, I have been struggling with a head cold, congestion, coughing--the annual post holiday shoe drop! It started with a post nasal drip, which, for me, always signals trouble, and when the coughing began, I prayed it would not go deep into my respiratory system, because, once there, it takes forever to get rid of it. But this congested head has me drained of energy, so that I have been on auto pilot for the past several days, and hard pressed to write about anything. But, rest assured, darlings, with tonight the finale of "American Horror Story--Freak Show," I will have plenty to dish with you about tomorrow. I can't wait.
In my congested state, I thought of Betty Boop. One of my favorite cartoons had her singing a song called "I've Got A Cold In My Nose." Whenever I am stricken, I think of Betty and the song.
Better yet, here is Betty to sing and commiserate with those of us who are suffering. So, remember, tea and "American Horror Story" tonight, and listen to Betty!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
She and Pudgy knew the score, hons!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
How well I remember that ad, with the mysterious words, "Modess, because....." each week in the TV Guide, which I had no idea what it meant. Even when seeing these words in front of the trees, hiding the Personal Products Company on Route 1, in New Jersey, I used to ask my parents, "Because what???????????" But no one would answer!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Then "To Sir, With Love," came along where a Modess, or something like it, was burned. It was clearer, but I still did not understand. Then came the urban legend, in the form of Pauline Kael's review of Barbra Streisand's 1969 film, "Hello, Dolly," According to Pauline, during the title number, when the music piped up, and Barbra began descending the staircase in that gold lame gown, someone in the audience screamed out, "Modess, because..........!"
Of course by then, I knew what it meant, and so this sent me into paroxysms of laughter. I can't look at this sequence in the film, without laughing.
Alas, girls, where have we come? Back in the era of gracious living, pictured above, such ads, were elegant and tasteful, Today, there are prepubescent girls, far too young, handing their own mothers tampons, from their purse!!!!!!!! I mean, really!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Like the Kander and Ebb song from "Chicago," "Class," says, "Jesus Christ! Ain't there no decency left???????????"
How I wish we would return to that era of civility, elegance and gracious living. Meanwhile, all you Theater Queens, get out your Barbra/'Dolly' DVDs tonight, and at the same time all over town, when the title segment airs, like Peter Finch in "Network," open your windows, and scream out, at the top of your lungs--
I just love when Judge Judy says that phrase, which we get to hear every night, as we watch her. I relate to it, in some ways, because I feel the same is true of me.
As for the above, well, the ones who don't hold to the first statement are directed to read this--and read it carefully, I have never been one to suffer fools gladly, and while I am not in a particularly bitchy mood, perhaps my head cold has me down. I could probably do Fantine tonight, if I had to, but my energy level would not be as high as it usually is. Which would work for me, dramatically, in the role, but how about hitting some of those notes?????????
All is by way of saying it is January, the shoe has dropped, I have my annual Winter cold, and while so much of me would like to be in bed just vegging, part of me would be driven crazy, by that! So, here I am!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
That's the price of creativity, darlings!!!!!!!!! No rest for the weary!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now, girls, Matthew Heikkila was not, technically speaking, a serial killer--or maybe he was apprehended and imprisoned, in time so that he would not become one. I am certain had he gotten away with his initial crime, he would most certainly have killed again.
His crime took place, twenty four years ago, on January 29, 1991, when Matthew, then 20, walked into his parents home, on Goltra Drive in the Bernards Township/Basking Ridge area of New Jersey. His family was well off; his father, Richard 48, was a successful medical researcher, while mother, Dawn, 46 was a successful realtor.
The two adopted Matthew twenty years before, and, 19 months later, had a child of their own, Joshua. At the time of the murders, Joshua was a freshman at Dartmouth. Yes, darlings, Dartmouth--the Ivy League!!!!!!!!!!!!
On that January 29 evening, Matthew walked into the house, with a gun, and, declaring "I hate you!" to each of his parents, shot them.
The community reeled in horror. But they were not surprised. His parents, teachers, and neighbors, could see signs of trouble in Matthew early on. Some predicted his parents would be killed by him. If they had not been so blind, out of love, they might have gotten him the help he needed, which might have required a separation from them, that would have saved their lives. It was not so much the Heikkilas enabled Matthew, they were just blind. To their detriment.
And what was his defense? "Adopted Child Syndrome," meaning he felt his parents favored Joshua over him. No one bought that crap! And poor Joshua was so traumatized by it all, he is now a missionary in Africa!!!!!!!!!! Imagine!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
At 44, now, Matthew is imprisoned at the Little Sandy Correctional Complex, in Sandy Hook, Kentucky. He claims he has changed, wants to turn his life around, but come on, who is going to buy that? He hasn't even seen "The Song Of Bernadette" yet.
It never ceases to amaze me these things happen in such conformist places as Jersey, Pennsylvania, or Florida!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Drive through them, at your peril, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! "
You really didn't think I was going to let this slip by, now, girls???????????? Of course, my first reaction when I heard the nominations announced, was, "What? No Amy Adams?" Indeed, Miss Adams should have received a nod for her brilliant performance in "Big Eyes"; Amy is a lot like MERYL, who nails it every time, acting wise! And where was Emily Blunt, who was surprisingly moving , in "Into The Woods," and Jake Gyllenhaal in "Nightcrawler??????????" That's what I was mad about.
I never considered the diversity thing, until the whole thing started up--a tempest in a teapot, considering several non-Whites have been nominated and honored over the years. What upset me more, and I know it is just the luck of the draw, was that this year's crop of movies was so lacking variety. Everything was dark and depressing. I love Julianne Moore, but after seeing Julie Christie play an Alzheimer's patient--for which she was also nominated--I don't want to see another film on this topic. I have enough to worry about, without this fear being thrown in my face. And face it, dolls, no Alzheimer's patient is ever going to look as good as Julie or Julianne!!!!!!!!!!!!! You better believe it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So, I really don't have much to say about the Oscar nominations, except to bemoan the elimination of those who deserved it, and to congratulate MERYL on setting a record with 19 nominations--and counting!!!!!!!!!--and J.K. Emmett, a fine actor, deserving to be honored after all his good work, for his magnetic turn in "Whiplash!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
I can't say I am psyched to watch the program this year. Because, if what is nominated is not so great, what about the gowns????????????????????
I truly fear for fashion, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
For the uninitiated, darlings, "Pinky:" was Elia Kazan's 1949 film, wherein Jeanne Crain played a Negro who could pass for white. Today, I have to wonder if gays are entering this era, because of the underlying emphasis on "passing" for straight.
An acquaintance of mine recent went to an LGBT support meeting, or what was supposed to be one. The reason I add "supposed" is because, from what I was told, several of the higher wage earners--lawyers and corporate types--bragged about how they could pass for being straight.
I wish I had been there, girls, because I would have challenged these closest cases, at once. Why is it so important? What makes you proud of this?
I guess they feel proud because they adjusted to the status quo, and thus earned their rights to higher wages and self-entitlement. Because, I hate to say it, it is true that the gayer one is, the more marginalized. Unless one works in theater or fashion, being gay at work still counts against one; like women, back in the Fifties and Sixties.
And in a culture that encourages Capitalist Pigs, the aforementioned gentlemen have made their choice--aligning themselves to the Money God, instead of being Out and Proud. To which I say, with this kind of attitude, what right have you to attend an LGBT support group???? You can't support the community, as you care too much about yourselves!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Gays get theirs during childhood and adolescence. Adulthood is their turn!
At this point everyone has earned the right to be comfortable with themselves!
Back when I first read "Gilead," I was blown away by the language, and the sheer, moving brilliance of the story, as well as the almost stream of consciousness style in which it was written. When "Home" followed it up, several years later, my anticipation was high, but I felt a big letdown from "Gilead." I am sad to say, that, having to expand the whole thing into a third volume, "Lila," the final entry, is a tremendous disappointment.
I could not wait to get through it. I did, but I ask myself, was it worth it? If I had not thought so highly of "Gilead," and Robinson in general, I am not sure I would have made it through its 271 pages. Which seem like three times that.
As I read "Lila," and got to know he, I thought back to Faulkner, even that overrated thing last year, "Fourth Of July Creek," not to mention Flannery O'Connor. For those who are still in a state of anticipation, as one who has read it, darlings, let me tell you--"Lila" is a big let down!!!!!!!!!!!!!
If I would have cited for anything in 2014, it would have been Most Disappointing Book Of The Year!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now, I am free to move on to something else! Amen, to Jesus!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Pull up with your coffee cups, girls, because I am going to be talking about the 1973 Made For TV clunker called "Scream, Pretty Peggy," with a cast that defies everything--Ted Bessell as sculptor Jeffrey Hamilton, Sian Barbara Allen (oh, my God, remember her?????) in the title role, and, thank God, Bette Davis, as Mrs. Hamilton. Pay attention to the first two minutes of the movie, where a young girl flees the house, only to be murdered, by a mysterious blond woman in a white granny night gown. The woman victim--making her debut as Agnes Thornton, who had the housekeeping job before Peggy, and obviously discovered the secrets of Hamilton House, and was off to reveal all--is none other than--are you ready?????--Tovah Feldshuh!!!!!!!!!! I kid you not! I had to watch the scene twice, to make sure I was right! But, as the knife is plunged into her, and she falls back, it can be clearly seen, this is none other than Tovah.
There was no originality in this film, save for Davis showing how she can even brighten the line readings of crappy dialogue. The recipe for this film is like one of Kathy Mitchell's Dump Cakes.
Take--3/4 cup "Psycho"
1/4 cup "Die! Die! My Darling!"
1/4 cup "House Of Wax"
Bake, edit, and the results are "Scream Pretty Peggy!"
Watching a train wreck can be fascinating, because there are so many things wrong with this movie, most of the time, one watches in complete stupefaction. After Tovah's bravura performance as murder victim, Agnes Thornton, deficits come into play. Sian Barbara Allen, whose career I do not understand (she must have had some connections to get to where she even got, which was not very far!!!!!!!!!!) starts out being annoying, with hereovertly youthful act and innocuous, girly voice that suggests she picked this up from somewhere, and this is her idea of playing young. She is not at all attractive--plain as hell!!!!!!!!!--but looks like she could pass for a college student!
Born in 1946, she was all of 27 when she made this mess, an indication her career was in some kind of trouble.
This is a movie about insanity, where the only sane person in the whole house turns out to be Bette Davis! Now, that is saying a lot! By the way, if you actually care about seeing this, don't read further, because this post will be chock full of spoilers. I don't feel at all guilty talking about them, because they can been seen coming a mile away. But, for those who care, consider yourselves forewarned.
Something is definitely wrong with Peggy. Not only with that innocuous girl act she pulls, her neediness, her desire to help, which are all annoying, she is willing to take the housekeeping job at 75 cents an hour, when the minimum wage in the film is $1.65!!!!!!!! However, Peggy is also nosy and pushy, which gets her the salary increase, even if she has designs on Ted Bessell.
Anthony Perkins must have screamed "NO!" when handed this script. I don't blame him. But couldn't someone better than Bessell--the most bland reporter and boy friend when he played Donald Hollinger on "That Girl," with Marlo Thomas--have been cast????? At least there, he looked trim and well groomed, his Brillo pad hair perfectly coiffed. Here, he is frumpy, a bit overweight, and his hair looks decidedly unkempt, which is his way of conveying that he is both an artist, and maybe a psycho!
His art work is a tip off to his insanity--the most macabre things seen on camera, but also the most creative part of this production. The source of the sculptures are none other than those unfortunates who happen to hang around at the Hamiltons too long, and get murdered. This is where the "House Of Wax " reference comes in.
As for "Die! Die! My Darling," Bette Davis plays it both ways. On one hand she is a frail old woman, who needs her son to take care of her; on the other hand, this old gal has more strength and resourcefulness than her son and that nitwit, Peggy!!!!!!!!!!!!
Here is the grabber. Mrs. Hamilton gave birth to fraternal twins, Jeffrey and Jennifer. The daughter, seen in glimpses, is played by Chritiane Schmidtmer, but when I saw silhouettes of her in the window at night, I began to wonder--is there really a Jennifer, or is someone impersonating her??????? Jeffrey professes great love for his sister, who, he first says, abandoned the family for Europe, then admits is kept in an apartment over the family garage, because she is insane, though not violent, and they did not want to commit her. But dead bodies keep turning up, and Peggy is too naive to catch on, no matter how many times Bette Davis, in a rather sympathetic role, tries to warn her.
You see, Bette knows the whole truth, which she has been trying to protect Peggy from. She explains how Jeffrey and Jennifer were fraternal twins, and that she was not the greatest of mothers, so the two had each other to depend on. As they grew into adulthood, Jeffrey came to nurse incestuous feelings for his sister, which were not reciprocated. In fact, Jennifer had met a man, whom she intended to marry. This sent Jeffrey over the edge of sanity, and so he killed his sister. But, mentally, he cold not handle the guilt, so, like Norman Bates, his personality split into Jeffrey, the sculptor, and Jennifer. He would dress as Jennifer, walk about like her, as a way of keeping her alive, and in his life. But, if Jeffrey got too interested in someone of the opposite sex, "Jennifer" would step in, and do something about it! Now, this could have been really camp, but the climax is done so ineptly it does not even rise to that level!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I wish I could say the picture seen at the start, of Ted Bessell in drag, is the final shot of the film. It actually, should have been. But it's from a "That Girl" episode where Donald was doing some kind of undercover story, and had to dress as a woman. Maybe the makers of this film saw that episode, and realized how ugly Bessell is in drag, or maybe Bessell was too homophobic, as I actually suspect, to play the last scene as required.
The scene has whiny Peggy wandering all over the house, calling for Jeffrey, who is nowhere to be seen. She finds him, hidden behind some canvass; he turns, and, with lipstick badly smeared across his face--a sure sign of a straight man who does not know how to do drag--says in a voice too masculine to be convincing, "I am Jennifer." He then arises, dressed in the Granny gown, carrying a wig in one hand, the knife in the other. He advances toward Peggy, but, just as soon as he is going to lunge and attack her, a shot rings out. Bette saves the day, shooting her insane son dead, even though it looks like she will have no one to take care of her.
That, fundamentally is the end. As Bette said in a biography, this film was so terrible, Peggy never even screamed. Not once! But had the film ended my way, it would have been a bit more lively.
With her son out of the way, and the secret really no longer a secret, Bette walks over to a table, and starts up a record player, which begins to play the De Vol rock song heard twice--outside the Bates house, and on the beach--in "What Ever Happened To Baby Jane?" That melody, in fact, became the title tune which Bette made a recording of, and performed on some talk shows. She and Peggy dance to this, as the camera pulls back for a long shot, as the drums roll ominously and pound out the discordant notes, as in the 1962 film, of "I've Written A Letter To Daddy." Now, THAT would have been fabulous, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And here is Bette doing the song! Wouldn't it have been great if 'Peggy' had ended with Sian and Bette dancing to this???????????????
"Blaaaaaaaaaanche, would'ja speak to this man from Johnson's??????"
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