November Goes Out On A Better Note Than October!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                      I wanted to include a beautiful  picture, to end November.  Can you believe we have gone through 11 months, with just one more to go.  The year some thought  would never end  will soon  become history.

                                      The operative word of  these days,  at least for me,  is gratitude.

                                       That I made it this far.  Living to turn  66.  Being with my beloved, David. 

                                       Also, I have some  delicious tidbits coming  up  in  December.  I have all the book  lists,  and  I will be posting about them  during the coming  month.  I have an especially heinous murder  to share with you all.  And, of course, we will not forget  the Holidays; I have a theme, which will  be revealed  tomorrow, and other things I need  to write about.  Then  will  come the year wrap up. That is  sure to be  something.

                                       I am also grateful  for  the wonderful Thanksgiving meal  David prepared the Sunday before.  Also the lovely take  out meal, supplied to us,  by the  Greenhouse  Cafe!!!!!!!!!!

                                       I  got a clan bill of  health from  my cardiiologist, so I feel so glad I went  through  the heart ablation procedure.  It was worth it.

                                       Yes, my dears,  November was one of my best months on here!

                                        See you next year, for surprises,  and  the Big Year Countdown!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

                                   

Oh, My God! Help, Darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The Monolith Monsters Are Coming!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                  Back on June  9 of this year--and, now,  that does seem  far away--I  wrote  about this hilariously bad 50's  sci-fi  film  called "The Monolith Monsters."  These were stones from  outer space that,  when placed in water, grow into mammoth monoliths, resembling giant turds, who attack people, and the only way to stop them is,  like  turds  down  a toilet, flush them away with a busted dam!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                     Recently,  in an area of  Utah near Canyonland National  Park, and the  Colorado River,  one such monolith was  discovered.  Now,  realists  are trying  to put a spin on it--that it  was something stole from the NY Metropolitan  Museum Of Art, or some avant garde  artist's homage  to John McCracken,  who created the monolith in the 1968 film "2001: A Space Odyssey."

                                     But don't kid yourselves.  Outer  space has landed on earth. We are either  going  into '2001' territory, and are going to see the embryo baby, or giant turds  really are coming  to invade us.  As one pundit remarked, and  I agree,  if in any year this were to actually happen,  2020  would be it.

                                        Make  sure  your flushers, and  sanitizers, are working,  darlings!  You may need them  more than you ever thought you would!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                         And come on,  now?  How  would someone  haul a thing like that out  to such a remote  area!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                           The monsters are on the way!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                  

                                 

I Absolutely HATE This Christmas Car Commercial!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                     Darlings, I hated it the first year it appeared.  So, why do they have to trot it out, annually??????????????

                                      Let me clarify.  I do not hate the actors.  They are just doing a job, and I am happy they will get another line of residuals airing this year.  So,  good for them!  What I cannot stand is the script concocted, and the characters they play.

                                       Mr. and  Mrs,  Heterosexist America,  he of  the corporate job,  house much too big for them,  and a hairy chest,  and she, Miss Perky Entitled Bitch,  the kind who does nothing,  and wears  colored panties  just to arouse her hubby, are ready to exchange Christmas  gifts.  She gives him some nothing  trinket,  and when he states he has something for her, she says "Yeah?," in a manner somewhere between greed and orgasm.  Maybe both; maybe,  subliminally, the connection between the two is being drawn.

                                      So, they go outside, and there are two cars, one red, the other blue.  Personally, girls,  I would have gone for the red.  Anyway, the wife goes to the blue, and when the husband tries  to explain the  blue car is for  him, and  she says "I love it," you know there is a power play going on. And on the second "I love it," with her sprawled out in  front of the car,  and her  line delivery, you just know she is one entitled bitch--if  her orgasmic greed did not cue in  that,  already--and this husband is some castrated simp,  who, for all his macho posturing, knows he  will get blue balls if he does not acquiesce, because, otherwise, she will not deliver!  What a fucking bitch!!!!!!!!!!!!  Slap her across the face!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                     This ad represents the worst of America, not the least of which is its being  overly obsessed with cars and houses they cannot afford to buy.

                                       Forget "Karen!" Watch this ad, and see an example of a truly entitled bitch!!!!!!!!!!!

                                         Merry Christmas, you two pigs,  who deserve each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                      

                                      

The Holiday Season Is Officially Here! But, Girls, I Am Telling You, Watch Out For...Religious BARBRA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 Now, darlings, as a life long Theater Queen who has wanted to do "Funny Girl" myself,  ever since Barbra  opened it at  the  Winter Garden  Theatre, back in 1964, when I was nine,  I have just  loved her!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   One of my favorite Christmas tunes is her humorous interpretation of "Jingle Bells," which no one else can do.   On the other hand............

                                  When La Strident goes religious....look out!!!!!!!!!!!   First, just look  at the album cover!  Give me a break!   And when she sinks her chops into things like "Ave Maria," "O Holy Night," and  other religious Christmas classics,  oh my God!!!!!!!!!!  The elongated notes,  vowels and consonants!!!!!!!!!!!  What the hell is she  trying to do?  Channel Jennifer Jones  in "The Song  Of Bernadette?"  As if she thinks  she could!  Keep it  real, BARBRA; there is just some  territory into which you should not go, but, being you, who the hell  is going to stop you????????????????

                                   Has anything been able to stop the Streisand  Juggernaut?  Of course not, so when Babs goes all religious,  simply grin and bear  it.

                                     Or  better yet,  switch channels to Patti Page or Rosemary Clooney!!!!!!!!!!

Gojira Wishes All A Very Happy Thanksgiving!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                       Sweet Gojira!  Don't let that look fool  you!   Sure, he cannot wait to sink his chops  into the turkey, stuffing, and cranberry sauce,  but this day makes him  happy by doing his part--like  seeing that needy children throughout the NYC area are fed, and  loved.  He wears his special Goiira  mask,  and  he  wishes  everyone a Happy Thanksgiving.  And  I do too; Gojira is loved on here!

                                          Anyone  of us who have gotten this far through 2020 has that to be thankful  for,  first.  Add to that my having a heart ablation, and coming through with flying colors, and my David having lithotripsy--almost  all at the same time--so we have MUCH to be thankful for, and are!

                                           Not the least of which is God and Company giving us each other; for me, the greatest gift of all, and being together, and happy, on a day that is  difficult for many.   I wish them to find the happiness they need.

                                            Gojira insisted I wish all on here a special Thanksgiving  wish.  He sends  his love to all!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                             As  do I,  on  this,  Thanksgiving Day of2020.

A Generational Novel That Maybe Should Have Stayed In One Time!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                      Margaret Wilkerson's writing is  strong and structured.  Her premise is simple--trace three generations of women.  In the present,  there is Ava,  a  single  mother of mixed racial origin,  who moves in with Martha, her white  grandmother, and a  kind of Miss Havisham.  And equally demanding.  Their story is contrasted with an earlier descendant, Josephine, whose story spans from 1855 to 1924, as she works herself from  slave  to plantation owner.

                                          And herein lies the problem.  So interesting is Josephine's story, that the others' pale by comparison.  More time  should have been spent on Josephine, or maybe Wilkerson should have gone for a trilogy about each.  Whenever things  came back to Ava or Martha, I was not nearly as engaged as with Josephine's story.  So, I am not sure I am going to follow Wilkerson.  That remains to be seen.

                                           Also,  the title is tricky.  I sometimes hear people refer to it as "The Revisionaries," which may be someone else's work entirely.

                                             Flawed, but recommended, this is a must for fans of socio-literary fiction!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                              But there are better works out there!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Girls, You Have GOT To Read This!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                 The hairs bristled on the back of my neck,  when I saw all the  blurbs comparing this novel to "Doctor Zhivago," by Boris  Pasternak.  You have got to be kidding.

                                                  But, girls, they are not.  The tale of Lucius,  a young Viennese man, who enlists in the war (WWI) and works  along a  nurse  named Margarete, is very much like Zhivago and Lara.  Margarete is  as mysterious and  enigmatic as the latter,  and Lucius' tortured and tormented pursuit of her echoes  that of  Yuri Zhivago.

                                                   Don't think  your heads will  fill with Omar Sharif and Julie Christie, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Lucius and Margarete are  singular individuals, and the depiction  of war and the pain of the hospital  conditions both must work  under echoes today's  times. though Daniel  Mason  published  it  in  2018.  Its blend of history and  romance is  literate, but lacks the scope and poetry of Pasternak.  I mean, who could  top that?????????????

                                                      But it has a  sweep and  a  flourish that most  of  this  genre does not.  It was highly recommended  by  one I trust,  and, once more,  I was  not steered wrong.

                                                       The ending had  me  in tears.  Mason  has  written a novel  that grabs the reader, satisfies  from  a  literary standpoint, and singles him out as an author who bears watching.

                                                         One of the best reads I have had this year!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This Used To Be My Life!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                Ah, the days of standing  in line in  Manhattan  for art house films, only to be deafened by moronic, faux film  critics.

                               If you recognize--and you should--this scene from "Annie Hall," I can tell you this happened to me in real life more than I can recount.  Or, at least it used to, before Covid hit us.

                                  Which makes me wonder if it will ever happen again.  Oh,  idiots one can encounter anywhere,  but there was something special,  at least  for me,  about a movie theater culture clash.  It was  part  of the New York Experience.

                                    Emphasis on "was."  The question is, will  it ever return?

                                    Or will future generations  watching  this scene, regard it as some kind  of museum piece???????????????????????

Oh, My God!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Glenn Close And Amy Adams Are Actually Going To Do White Trash????????????????????????????

                                            Believe me,  if  they were set to do a redo of Marsha Norman's  " 'night, Mother,"  I  would  be on board.  But White Trash?

                                            Look  at Glenn Close!   She looks  like  Mama June!!!!!!!!!!!  Those seeing her for  the first time will never be able  to  imagine has  as Alex Forrest in "Fatal  Attraction."  Actors need to  work,  but are you really that desperate, Glenn???????????

                                               As for Amy, even White Trash, she still  looks  good.  So did  Mary-Louise Parker, in 1994, when she played the mother in  "The Client," but her performance was so riveting one  easily believed her, even though she looked  good,  too.  

                                               Amy looks like she has put on some weight, which those subsisting on a fast food diet, like these  folk,  do.

                                                Heaven help us!  This could  either be an acting tour de force, or high camp!

                                                Ron  Howard directed this.  No problem, there, but maybe he has spent too much time in Mayberry!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Book Information, Darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                       I really don't want to tease anyone  on here, but this is what is happening.  The Book  Lists  are coming  out,  but I cannot access them online, without  a subscription, and who wants to spend that kind of money for  just one section?  I  did  see, on my cell  phone Google, a list of "The New York Times Ten Best Woks  Of Fiction For 2020," in rank,  so I have an idea of  what the top 5  are, but am  not going to discuss this, until I see it replicated in hard copy.  So, you may have to wait a bit  for my book  lists.  

                                      My list is composed, but I have to wait for the  others before I can compare and  contrast.  Isn't this just like the damn  election?????????????????

                                       I  am really down  on "The New York Times" for  making  something that should be so  easy to  access difficult.  I intend to send an email  to the Book Review editor.

                                       Something else  I  am  considering starting  this year  is  posting my reading list for  2020.  I have been  keeping  records of  this since 1968, but have never shared them.  This would, literally, be just a  list, with the  book jacket pictured.  My goal is always to read 100 books a year.  I am  only up to 86, so I have my work  cut out for me.  My record,  made just a few years ago was 115.

                                          Patience,  girls!   I  am  anxious  to  share all this with you, and will  do,  ASAP.

                                          Meanwhile,  I have  some  recent  reads  to  post!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                           Enjoy your books, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"The Ballad Of Dwight And Irena" Was Almost Camp!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                Girls, I am telling you, when I saw the promo for this episode, I thought it bore a strong resemblance to the John Grisham book  I read recently, "A Time For Mercy," in which a teenaged boy kills his  mother's abusive boyfriend.  I call that justifiable homicide,  because the scum deserved  to die,  even if  he  was killed, and  so  did Dwight, in this episode.

                                  I was afraid some lazy writer had  read the Grisham book, and  decided to do  their own  riff on it.  Fortunately,  there was more to it than that, but,  while  filled with fascinating  tidbits, it did  not add up  to much.

                                  Let's start with  Riki  Lindhome's performance as Irena Nowak.   I did  not have much sympathy for her,  at first.  And what was with her channeling  Joni Mitchell,  by copying the singer's look,  back  in the day?  As for Dwight, played  briefly by Christopher Cassarino; well,  he turned  out to be not  only an abuser, but a trucker drug addict, gets  Irena Nowak, a single mother trying  to raise two kids--Lee Ann, by Dwight,  and  Will, by policeman  Marc Vargas, played by Elliot Villar--hooked and submissive, so what chance does she have to get out from  her situation?  And what is she  doing associating  with  some piece  of White Trash, from  rural  Virginia?  No, I did  not  feel  a bit  sorry for Irena, at this point.  I wanted  to  step  in, or  have someone else  do so, like Crusading  Olivia,  and call Children's Services?  Why didn't she?

                                  The best moment was Rollins  and  Dwight confronting one  another.  Two White Trash forces clashing with  each  other.  Except  Amanda, wonderfully  played  by Kelli Giddish,  has successfully pulled herself up  from  that Southern muck,  but not Dwight, who is  still mired in  it,  especially  when into the picture  enters Amanda  Jane Cooper, as Sherry Wagner,  Dwight's pregnant,  and  definitely White Trash, wife.  I really don't know if she  was even necessary to have her in the story;  maybe it was to make the homicide justifiable.  Which it was.  It would have been more  interesting if  Will had actually done it,  but  it turns out  Irena had a spine, after all.

                                    During an interim during court  proceedings,  there  is a  scene  between  Irena and  Olivia, where Irena  mentions  having grown  up in an abusive  home, where someone  was beaten every day.   Now I  felt  sorry for her; it explains  her behavior early in the  episode, as well  as her poor track  record with  men.  All men seem abusive to her; even Carisi,  a side of  him which I was shocked  to see.

                                       Irena is the killer, while  Will  was trying to protect  his mother.  The killing  was not shown,  but what happened  was Lee Ann had to use  the bathroom, and Dwight was in the tub.  Probably jerking  off.  Irena  goes  in with Lee Ann,--which I question, bringing a small child  into  a  room  with  an  adult naked man,  as  if  this was normal?--and an argument ensues.  Irena  spots  her hair dryer on  a  nearby shelf, and  plugs it  in.  Dwight says she hasn't the guts to throw it  in the tub, and once he gets  out,  he  will  take care of she and Will.  He  is partial  to  Lee Ann,  who is  his own daughter.

                                       But guess  what?  Irena does  have the guts, so "plop,  plop, fizz, fizz, oh what a relief  it  is."  I really wish we could  have seen Dwight fry!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                         For a change,  Finn,  not  Olivia, gets  the last shot,  thanks  to  the subplot of his lawsuit from last season.  But the  main plot resolution is not satisfactory,  leaving too many questions unanswered.  Irena will  go  to prison; who will take  care of  the children?   Sherry Wagner is  trash,  but she does have  a  point--what kind of  justice  is  this for her,  a pregnant woman,  and what  is  she supposed  to do?  These  threads  were just left hanging.

                                           It was nice to  see Jessica Phillips return as Pippa Cox, whose husband  is  in prison  on child  porn charges.  I think Josh Pais wanted out of the show and role, so this was concocted for him.  Because, in all the years he played the role, the character never displayed any signs of a sexual  interest in  children.   Oh, I know, many of  these types are covert,  but, from a written standpoint,  it  just did not make any sense.

                                             And how about examining class distinctions,  via Irena, Amanda, Dwight, and Sherry. Proof that White Trash  does not  belong in New  York.

                                           Let me tell you something, dolls--"The Ballad Of John And Yoko" is  more  satisfying!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                        

                                  

"I Got Through All Of Last Year, And I'm Here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                                                    "Lord knows at least I've been there!                                                                                                              And I'm here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!                                                                                                             Look who's here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!                                                                                                               I'm Still Here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"                                                                                                              --Yvonne De Carlo, as Carlotta Campion,                                                                                                     singing "I'm Still Here," in Stephen Sondheim's                                                                                           "Follies" (1971).

                                            Usually, darlings, I choose some colorful image to celebrate my natal day online.  And while, at 66, I am now in my late sixties, I  look  upon this with gratitude.

                                               As my beloved, David,  on  my birthday card, said, "What a year!"

                                               Of course, there was Trump, but then the pandemic, David's lithotrypsy, and my heart troubles, atrial fib diagnosis, followed by the heart ablation.  Enough was enough.  May the rest of 2020 go smoothly, and may 2021 be an improvement on this year.

                                                But the day was perfect!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                               I had my breakfast, and opened the cards.  More rest, until David knocked off work for half a day.  Then we called Positano and ordered my birthday dinner.   I had the Tomato and and  Mozzarella appetizer, while David had Escarole and White Bean Soup.  My main course, of course,  was the Pappardelle Bolognese, and for desert, David had Banana Pudding and Vanilla Wafers, and I a slice of Coconut Cloud Cake, from the Little Cupcake Shop, here in Bay Ridge.  Baby Gojira was with us for the celebration, and I had to compete with him nibbling on the cake!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                 While out and about, we stopped to see Nicholas, and he lovingly wished me a happy birthday.  What a sweetheart, that cat is.

                                                    I talked  to  my sister this evening, and started "Aria," which promises to be a sweeping, epic novel, set in Iran. Just what I like!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                      All in all, one of the happiest of birthdays.

                                                       I am so grateful to all I know, and all of you readers!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                       Here's to another year!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

              

                                        

                                                      

This Is The End Of Musical Theater Week!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                  It ends today, on what is my actual birthday, but which I am proud to say, though she left us in  February of 2017, I share this date with Dorothy Collins,  the original Sally Durant Plummer in my favorite Sondheim musical, "Follies," from 1971.  Hey, it  turns 50 next year!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                    No one but Dorothy-and, so help me God, not even Barbara Cook--nailed this song the way she did.  The way her voice breaks between "You said you loved me," and then "Or were you (pause) just being kind?" has never been equaled by anyone.  It is beautiful and heartbreaking, as is the entire show.

                                      I am proud to share this day with Dorothy Collins.

                                     No wonder "Follies" is my favorite.

                                     It was meant to be, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                      

                                      Here she is, singing "Losing My Mind." No rendition surpasses hers!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And A Sad Farewell To Another Legend Of The Musical Stage--Lynn Kellogg!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                     Few performers are lucky enough to attain Musical Theater Legend status on  the basis of an appearance in a single show.  Lynn Kellogg,  whose  name you may not recall--though hard core Theater  Queens should know--was one of those.  She played Sheila Franklin,  the female lead, in the 1968 Broadway blockbuster--"HAIR."  She was in the  Original Cast with Shelley Plimpton and Company, and, like Shelley,  had one of  the few solos  in the  show--she introduced "Easy To Be Hard."

                                       This alone  grants her status.   But Lynn went on to do television, shows  for children,  and while  keeping a low  profile, was always working, at some time.   I  know another "HAIR" cast member, Lamont Washington, died  in a fire,  during the Original Broadway run,  but I do not know  if  any others have passed,  besides he and Lynn.

                                        

                                         Here is Lynn, singing the  song she introduced!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                         Sadly, she died of Covid 19, aged 77.  Rest In Peace,  Lynn!!!!!!!!!!!!!

        

                                                Here is Lynn, standing, on  the cover of "Cavalier" magazine.  On the left is Shelley Plimpton, and, to her right, is Melba Moore!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Happy Birthday, Neva Small!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                            It is always easy to remember her birthday, as it is the day before mine.  But Neva has been a true Legend Of The Musical Stage, since childhood, and, at 68, she is dear to all of  us who have experienced her talent.  She is also charming and gracious.

                                             I wish Neva would perform more than she does, but when it happens, it is a special  treat.  On this, her natal day, I wish Neva many special treats for herself!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                             Have a great day and year, Neva, on behalf of  my readers, and  myself!

                                             

This Is A REALLY Big Day For Musical Theater, Darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                       Sixty-one years ago,  tonight, girls, at the Lunt-Fontanne Theatre, the curtain went up on Rodgers' And  Hammerstein's "The Sound Of Music."  And things have  never been the same, since.

                                       Imagine,  Catholicism on  Broadway.  That was just one of several  distinctions this show held.   It beat out "Gypsy"  for the "Best Musical" TONY Award, for 1959.   Martin Martin beat out Ethel  Merman in "GYPSY," as "Best Lead Actress In  A Musical."  Laurie Peters, who originated Liesl, has the distinction of being twice nominated in the same category--Best Supporting Actress In A Musical," both  for her  performance as Liesl, and as one of The Children in "The Sound OF Music,' even though two of them,  William Snowden and Joseph Stewart, were boys!!!!!!!!!  Nothing like this has happened, since!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                          Patricia Neway,  as the Mother Abbess, beat everyone that year for the "Best Supporting Actress In A Musical" TONY Award.   I have it on  word from several people  I know old enough to have  seen it,  that,  at  the end of Act  One,  when Neway hit the final  note of "Climb Ev'ry Mountain," the chandelier at the Lunt-Fontanne shook every night!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                            And, as  a  true Theater Queen, let me identify those stage children.  Left to  right--Laurie Peters (Liesl), Joseph Stewart (Kurt), Kathy Dunn (Louisa), Marilyn Rogers (Brigitta), who, sadly, died several years back, at  the age of 63, but holds the distinction of having been in the Original  Broadway casts of  three Musical Theater Classics--"The Music Man" (1957), as the original Amaryllis, "The Sound Of Music" (1959), and one of the younger daughters in "Fiddler On The Roof" (1964).  She also graced the cover of two of those Playbills--"The Music Man" and "The Sound Of Music."  The boy behind  Marilyn  is William  Snowden,  the original Friedrich.  Followed by  Evanna  Lien,  the  original Gretl.  Not present in  the  picture is  Mary Susan  Locke,  the original Marta.

                                              Happy Birthday, "The Sound Of Music!"  Those hills are still alive!

                            

                                       Now, twenty two years this same night, after "The Sound Of Music" opened, "Merrily We Roll Along" opened at the Alvin Theatre.  What a young cast--Lonny Price, Jim Walton,  Ann Morrison, Manna Allen, MaryRose  Wood, David  Loud,  Donna Marie Eliio/Asbury, Sally Klein, Jason Alexander, David  Loud, Tonya Pinkins,  Liz Callaway--and I am naming all of these from memory,  some  of whom I have crossed paths with from time  to  time.  Oh, and  don't forget Terry Finn and Abigail Pogrebin, all  of  whom can be seen  in  Lonny Price's wonderful documentary film  "Best Worst Thing That Ever Could Have Happened," from 2016.

                                          It was my privilege to see this production twice, back in 1981.  As far as singing the  score,  this cast remains the Gold Standard.  Future productions  and  performers  will attempt it,  but none  will  equally this cast vocally,   or,  I doubt,  get the  staging or  text right.

                                         'Merrily' is a show that returns the  love  its  fans give  it.

                                          Next year, it turns 40!!!!!!!!!!!  Something big will have to be planned! 

Happy Birthday, Martha Plimpton!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                    Continuing with  Musical Theater Week, I would  like to  wish Martha Plimpton a Happy Birthday!  Now, many may not think of her as  a "Musical Theater Person," being known for her comedic and dramatic skills.  However, as the daughter of  Shelley Plimpton, who introduced the song "Frank  Mills" in the  original Broadway production of "HAIR," she is the show's  official love child!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                      Added to that, Martha has shown her musical chops with  her band work,  and her wonderful turns  in "Pal  Joey," which I saw, and in the New York Philharmonic's  "COMPANY," back in 2013, when she played Sarah to Stephen Colbert's Harry.  She just about stole  the entire show!  Wish I could have seen  her read Anne in  the recent stage reading of  "Valley Of The Dolls."

                                       Not only  is Broadway missed, but so is  Martha.  Both come back to  us  soon, please!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                        As for  singing  "Frank  Mills," Martha, don't worry about a thing.  Allison Case  and  I have  you and your mother's backs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                         Celebrate  as  you choose,  Martha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Cannot believe you are 50!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Happy Birthday, Donna McKechnie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                   "If any member of "A Chorus Line" rates their own Hirschfeld portrait, it is certainly Donna McKechnie.  Join me in wishing Donna a very happy birthday, during this Musical Theater Week.  Sources put her age at somewhere between 76 and 80, but,  no matter, if she had to,  she  could perform Cassie tonight.  It  is in her bloodstream, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                     Even show stoppers,  like Donna, have to deal with the pandemic.  So, Donna, how ever you choose to celebrate your day, my readers and I wish you a very Happy Birthday!

                                      Keep dancing, Donna!   It inspires us all!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

   

"Words, Words, Words, I'm So Sick Of Words!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                                                       Fellow Theater Queens will recognize instantly--or,  at least, should--these as the opening lyrics of the song "Show Me," from  "My Fair Lady."  My reason for using  them today has more to do with reading,  than musical theater.

                                                        This is the time of year when  I commence reading, as though studying for the bar exam.  Law,  I mean,  not alcohol.   This is because the time is drawing near when "The  New York  Times" will announce its "100 Most Notable Books Of 2020," and  then its "Ten Best Books  Of 2020."  Now,  halve those lists, because I am only interested in  the Fiction lists. I mean, I am aware of non-fiction, but, truthfully, I have read only one non-fiction  book this year, and that was "The Immortal Life Of Henrietta Lacks," by Rebecca Skloot. It was recommended to me, by a friend.  It's just the way I am wired, darlings!!!!!!!!!!

                                                           However, with each year,  The  Times  makes its  harder and harder  for non  online  subscribers  to ascertain  this information.  And this year  is the worst.  First,  I heard  the  "Notable List"  was  coming  out  today.  I had a neighbor pick up a hard copy  for me--nothing!!!!!!!!  Than  David found  out  it is coming out  next Sunday, which means I will have to haul  my ass  at an  ungodly hour--like when the vampires are crawling back to their graves--to get a paper that may not have it, to begin with.  So,  now I am reaching out to my readers.

                                                              I am not asking for the world.  If pressed,  I can do without the "Most Notable"  list. What  is  most important to me is  what is included on the five best works of fiction, on the "Ten Best" list.  If you can email,  or comment, me, even just the titles, I can take it from there.  

                                                               I need this info  for several reasons.  First, to see what made the list,  and  what did  not.  Second, to see how much,  if all, or  not,  I still have  to read.  And third,  because I want  to do a post commenting on this list,  and then post one of my own.  Which I have almost worked out, by  the  way,  if  that will  help you to  help me.

                                                                 And,  of course, my decisions are not yet written  in stone,  because, I am still reading  madly, so choices could change.

                                                                   So,  while  I am hardly sick of  words, I am absorbing about as much as Eliza did, at her peak!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                                     Help me,  darlings!   "Show  Me" those five fic picks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Girls, We Have Come SO Far!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                    I love the artwork behind  these Fifties ads,  but can  you  believe  there actually was a time  when  folks believed could  not open a bottle of ketchup?  Yet  could endure childbirth, child  raising, and  heartache.  We have, indeed, come  a  long  way, dears.  

                                    Except in hair and fashion.  I really like  this woman's  look.  I wish I could emulate it, and had the money to get custom  made things.  Like Amy Sedaris, who manages to be both retro and  hip,  with the outfits she wears!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                     But this ad just cracks me up,  darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                     This has to be an example  of  why Rod Serling  wrote "Patterns!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Today Is The Start Of Musical Theater Week!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                         I cannot believe it  is  that  time  of month,  already!

                                         No, not "that time!" I mean, Musical Theater Week, when,  from today till the 18th (which is my birthday) we celebrate the  birthday of someone legendary in the American musical  theater.

                                          Today we start with a groundbreaker--the  late Sammy Williams.  Sammy left us on  March 17, 2018, and would be 72 today.  He originated the role of Paul in "A Chorus Line," back in 1975, when  I had the pleasure of seeing both he and the  Original Company,  with my father,  from whom  I was  keeping the secret of my very first sexual experience which had taken place, earlier that week.  Not only did I feel Sammy was speaking directly to me, I wonder how much my father had guessed, or not, at that point.  I was only 20, then. And that was on October 25, 1975.

                                           Forty five years later, both my father and Sammy are gone.  In fact, Sammy died just a month after my father.  So,  today, I remember them  both, and I ask  all of  you to remember Sammy, as we enter Musical Theater Week!

       

                                      Here is Sammy, performing that groundbreaking  monologue.   No one did it better!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"Kill Her, Mommy, Kill Her!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                                    Yes, my dears, it is that time again.  Friday The 13th, and  you know what  to watch  on  that  day, girls!

                                     No one has ever given  a better screen performance by acting with her teeth,  than Betsy Palmer, as Pamela Voorhees.  I still wonder how she could have received  such good dental  treatment and coverage in rural New Jersey.

                                      Actually, this movie says all you need to know, darlings, about my home  state!

                                      So  have a Happy Day,  celebrate  Jersey,  and  remember  Betsy!!!!!!!!!!

                                       "I'M not afraid!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

This 'SVU' Script Must Have Been Written By The Witches From "Macbeth!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                                    The season opener--Number 22!!!!!!!!--was called "Guardians And Gladiators," referring to two types of cops.  The so-called "Guardians" are  those who seemingly drip empathy while, with subtle understatement,  cover up their biases.  The "Gladiators" don't care.  They wear their biases openly, like the Proud Boys,  White Supremacists they are.

                                     But, really this should have been called "Witches Brew," because everything was thrown  into the pot--the Amy Cooper case,  George  Floyd, Jr. and Breonna Taylor, the "Karen" meme, and even the danger of closet cases.  I have to say it gave me a sadistic sort of pleasure to see Olivia Benson sweating openly over  her  situation,  and  having her too-close-to-puberty-for-his-time-on-the show son, Noah, call her  out as a racist.

                                       The scene  opened with a brilliant performance by Carolyn Baeumler, as Collen  Reynolds,  the Amy Cooper/Karen of the piece.  Once again, in  the Ramble,  in Central  Park,  she confronts a  Black  man, Jayvon Brown, played by Blake Morris, only this time instead of accusing him of attacking she and her dog,  she has a child, so she cries assault and terrorizing his son.  The actor playing the kid  is  flat out  embarrassed, and runs off,  only to discover the beaten  and unclad body of a young  man--a med student named Eric Aquino,  who has  been homosexually raped.  Beaten, bleeding, and with semen,  coming from the  rectum.   Uh huh.  The Aquinos are Filipino, devout Catholics,  so his poor,  grief stricken mother  does not know  about his orientation,  but his brother, Mark,  does,  so the squad  knows it  has to search among the gay community. 

                                           I could not get over how the cops, with the possible exception of Finn, did not  know of the reputation  the Ramble  is famous for!!!!!!!!!!!!!  

                                          So,  why go after Brown?  Just because the body is  found at the time  of his quarrel  with Colleen/Karen,  they assume he  raped Eric.  This is where the show goes off the rails about what has  been  going  on with the police.  Any amateur could see Brown had nothing to do with Eric,  nor was inclined that way.

                                         But,  it  turns out that on video was caught a white man,  one Joe Murphy, well played by Peter Hargrave, who filmed the whole  thing.  But, what was he,  a lone man,  doing in  the Ramble?  Uh-huh!  Before  one  can say "Closet Case," they discover Murphy is unmarried, and living with his  mother, Bernadette, played by Jeanine  Flynn.  Oh,  yeah, a great, big Closet Case!  The joke  was this perp being  described  as 25, when it clearly has been a long time  since  Hargrave himself saw that age!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                            Yes,  there were  moments,  here and there,  but the whole thing was a jumbled mess.  And Closet Case Murphy fails to be indicted by the Grand Jury he is brought before,  so he walks?  He lies  on the stand,  saying he  was coerced by the cops, feeding on the jury's fears, and the times  we  live in.  So he walks.  Oh, and he says he is "bi."  Yeah,  right.  He will go on living with Mama, getting  fellated and  sodomizing in parks  till caught, until he goes to prison and becomes some inmate's cornhole bitch!!!!!!!!!!!  That is what should happen to all closet cases, anyway!  And often, it does.

                                               But, of course, an  anguished Olivia, played as a desperate-to-show-she-can-act-when,-really-she-can't Mariska Hargitay, gets the last shot.  Ho hum.  Thank God for all the supporting players, as well as regulars, Kelli Giddish, Peter Scanavino,  Ice T, and Jamie Gray Hyder.  Plus Demore  Barnes.

                                               Girls, I am telling you,  I had forgotten how good it feels  to write about 'SVU'.  So stay tuned, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

John Grisham???????????? You Have To Be Kidding!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                           Who could have guessed, darlings, that thirty plus years later, I would reading a John Grisham novel?  The last one I read was "The Pelican Brief."  When I read about "A Time For Mercy," I noted the similarity in  title to his first book, "A Time To Kill," which introduced the character of Jake Brigance,  and when I read the opening pages, and saw them dramatized on  film,  it took all I could emotionally muster to go on.

                                             But when I heard this novel dealt with a teenaged boy who murders his  mother's abusive boyfriend, I thought this might be interesting.  And it was.  Grisham has certainly grown as a writer, and his incorporation of legal concepts is so detailed I wish I had studied for the bar, even though I never went to law school.

                                               Jake Brigance is  back, and  so is his wife, Carla.  I just love Carla.  He is embroiled in defending a White Trash,  homeless woman  named Josie Gamble, living with her two children  in the home of Stuart Kotler.  Who just happens to be one of the top sheriff deputies in town.  When Stuart is found dead, and it is clear sixteen-year-old Drew Gamble did it, the reader is off on a legal journey,  recalling everything from "To Kill A Mockingbird," to the song "The Night The Lights Went Out In Georgia."  That is as far as I will  go;  the rest you have to find  out for yourselves.  Though I question Grisham's ambiguous ending.

                                                But don't get the idea I will pick up  Nora Roberts.

                                                 I mean, darlings,  in terms of literature, she is Oxycontin!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Will The End Of The Trump Era Mark The End Of Karen????????????????????????????

                                           Oh, please God, I hope  so!

                                            It has  been  said Trump was "the ultimate Karen."  Be that as it may, it gave permission for the species to flourish.  All these entitled White Trash bitches egged on by someone, who, as I maintain, did not have to be poor to be labeled "White Trash."

                                             Goodbye, all you miserable Karens.  Stay in your trailer trash world, and drink  your lives away!

                                               Bitches!

"Put The Mask On NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                                      Back when I was in college, I saw this cheesy 1961 3-D film--when that process was waning--called "The Mask."  Some professor found some sort of voodoo mask in, --where else?--Africa--and the mask ultimately takes possession of him.  The face reminds me of my Pressman  Witch Doctor Head Shrinker's Kit.

                                      Enforcement has not really worked for non-mask wearers, during this pandemic.  Then I recalled this film, and, darlings, I think if these non-maskers saw this face before them, they would do anything it said!  I certainly would.

                                      The fun of the film, especially when seen with an audience, is that, eventually, one gets to know when this post's titular phrase is going  to appear--and everyone shouts it out.

                                         I don't think that would work on the street.  It would just incite riots.

                                         But, girls,  this face would do the trick

                                         So,  once again--"Put the mask on NOW!"

"Forget Your Troubles, Come On, Get Happy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                                            Indeed, darlings, when David called me from the bedroom,  to announce Biden had actually won, I was on  You Tube,  listening to Judy Garland perform this.  I can't think of a better  song to bring  us into  the Biden-Harris years, after the horrors of the Trump-Pence era.  May we never see another in our lifetime, let alone mine.

                                            I am enough of a realist to know, as the Carpenters once said, "We've Only Just Begun." The joy is that the nation  now has the opportunity to do so.  Now, may it  make the most  of  it.

                                              Congrats to all,  who,  like David and  I,  were "ridin' with Biden!"

                                               I will let Judy take it from here, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                

                                                  Enjoy, girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Night Before Election Day 2020

                                           "T'was the night before the Election,                                                                                                               And all  through the house.                                                                                                                             Everyone prayed the louse would be out.

                                           The stockings were hung by the chimney, with care.                                                                                     In hope that Joe Biden would soon bring fresh air.

                                          The children were nestled, all snug in their beds,                                                                                           While visions of Democracy danced in  their heads.

                                           And Mama in her kerchief,  and I  in my cap,                                                                                               Stood before the TV, in fear, and enrapt.

                                          When out on the lawn, there arose such a clatter,                                                                                             I said,  "What  the  hell?," to see what was the matter.                                                                                   Awed and afraid,  I saw White Supremacists,                                                                                                 Burning down houses,  their grammar so senseless.

                                           The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow,                                                                                            Revealed pictures of hatemongering swastikas below.                                                                                  When  what  to my wandering eyes should appear,                                                                                        But a male super spreader, with a sexual  leer.                                                                                              With a stride, so narcissistic and quick,                                                                                                           I knew in a minute Trump would make me sick.

                                            More rapid than eagles his sycophants came.                                                                                                And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name,                                                                              "Now, Kavanaugh, Barr, and Coney Barrett                                                                                                  On  Huckabee Sanders, you fat pig of a vixen.                                                                                               To the top of the house, to the top of the wall,                                                                                               Now grovel,  ass wipe, and worship me, all."

                                             As dry leaves, before the wild hurricane fly,                                                                                                All mounted the Donald, around his fat thighs.                                                                                              So, into  the White  House the sellouts all drew,                                                                                            Thinking  that Covid 19 was the flu.

                                           And then in a twinkling,  I heard on the  roof                                                                                                 The spewing of excrement from each,  that was proof.                                                                                 As I drew in my head, and was turning around,                                                                                            Down  the whole crappy mess came  overhead, with a bound.

                                          He looked like a pig, his skin Asian Orange,                                                                                                His clothes were all tarnished  with immigrant outrage.                                                                                A bundle  of misery followed him,  on track.                                                                                                And he looked like a satyr, decrepit with age.

                                          The stump of  a dildo he clutched in one hand                                                                                              While, with the other,  he fondled his man.                                                                                                     Though still hot for Putin, still fat was his belly,                                                                                           Far too much fast food, and Welch's grape jelly. 

                                          He was ugly and  gross,                                                                                                                                  An obese,  morbid  soul.                                                                                                                                And I puked, when  I saw him lose his bowel control.                                                                                  A wink of an eye, and a twist of his head,                                                                                                      Meant hunting for pussy was his main intent.

                                         He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work.                                                                                     Bringing misery to  all,  the dumb, fucking jerk.                                                                                           And laying a finger aside of his nose,                                                                                                            And giving a nod, up his asshole he rose.

                                        He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,                                                                                      Snidely leaving things in a great pickle.                                                                                                        But I  heard him  exclaim, as he drove out of sight,                                                                                      "Fuck  you all, you dumb slobs,                                                                                                                    And to all, Hell at night."

                                       The Raving Queen--Good Luck on Election Day!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!