Like Witches On Their Brooms, October Flew!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                    Thinking back now to September, October was a fun month.  There were no health crises--a joy, for starters--and while things were more low key, it allowed David to recover from his travails, and, of course, we enjoyed our "Svengoolie" Saturdays.

                                       We also enjoyed getting together with friends, and planning for the year wind-down, which includes, my birthday, Thanksgiving, Chanukah, Christmas, New Years' Eve, and then January 1, which is David's birthday.  Yes, a busy time is ahead!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                        So, we look back on October as relatively tame, and are grateful.  I should point out that on the 17th, I reached my goal of having 100 books read.  So, now I am going for a record, but I have some heavy volumes coming up, which could slow me down.  Only the year's end will tell, and I will be sure to give you a bigger report.

                                       When next I post, it will be November, my birthday month.  Wish me well, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                           As I do the same to all of you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                          See you next month!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Halloween Greetings, From Nicholas!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                      Happy Halloween, Everyone!  Here is my good friend, Nicholas, wishing everyone the same.  He looks sweet and spooky at the same time.  Believe me, Nicholas knows how to pose for the cameras.  He is some media cat!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                       And he sends love and happiness to all of you, on Halloween, and so do I.  This will be a quiet one here; David and I, plus Baby Gojira and "Pippin" will watch a horror movie or two, and that will be it.  Eighteen days till my birthday, so the year is slowly, then swiftly, winding down.

                          But it wouldn't be Halloween without Nicholas, and he sends love to all.

                           Love to you, too, Nicholas!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What Is With The Uptake In Pit Bulls??????????????

                          I see more and more of them every day.  Even in my neighborhood, and some have muzzles.  I know what is said, but I am leery of these creatures, who deserve a chance at living, but whom I would be afraid of he or she turning on a dime.  Sure, they look cute, sure they can be affectionate, but just at the wrong time...SNAP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   And where does that leave one?

                             As I have said before, the owners of pit bulls look like convicted felons.  I am convinced they are.  Now, why is that?  Does like gravitate toward like?  Maybe, but I have another theory.

                              I have heard that at Rikers, when a convict leaves, they are given clothes, and some money to start out.  I cannot prove this, but I am also convinced they are given a pit bull, to act as a companion, or some kind of service animal?  So, more and more are seen each day.

                               Property owners and apartment dwellers may have issues about ex-cons showing up, but most times don't know.  Not so with pit bulls, who can easily be identified.  

                                 And they are always looking at my calves.  Like they want to take a great big bite out of them.

                                 My advice?  If one moves nearby, speak to the neighbors and/or take precautions.

                                 An animal should not force anyone to have to move!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Girls, Join Us Tonight At Eight PM, As Svengoolie Presents "Count Yorga, Vampire!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                                             You are on your own with this one, darlings, because, though released in 1970, even I have never seen this, though I have heard of it.  It has the potential for campiness and bosoms, which should please some, and its only actor of note is Michael Murphy; this must have been early in his career.

                                                "A Tale Of Unspeakable Cravings....." my readers certainly know about those.  And I don't just mean a pint of Hagen Dazs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                      So, join us for what could be some lust filled fun!  Though I am not sure Little Pippin should watch it.  Maybe we can get him to sleep before it starts.

                                                       But he will want to stay up late for "Sventoonie," as I have no idea what film he will deconstruct tonight.   But Trevor and Blob E. Blob will be on hand and we all just love Blob E.

                                                         So, join us for this fun fest, at 8PM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                        Clean that closet of your skeletons, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                              

Now, In MY Day, This Was The Gay Pick-Up Line!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                Remember, fifty years ago, in the 1972 film, "The Godfather," when Sonny beats his sister's abusive husband, Carlo?  Sonny's opening lines in the film were, "Hey, you!  C'mere!  C'MERE!"

                                 I don't know if this applied to many of my orientation, but, for me, this was my pick-up line.  As you can tell, by reading on here of my spinster years, it didn't exactly work, but it seemed like forever before I gave up using it.  Briefly, I thought about using the garbage can, the way Sonny did, but then I was not nearly as hot as James Caan, back in the day, and it was just an affectation on my part.

                                  But how times have changed.  Use this line to anyone, and it is taking one's life into one hands!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                    This film has stood the test of time.  Remember, pick-up lines don't!!!!!!!!!!!

Who Has To Be Gay Anymore????????????????? Now, We Can All Become Image Consultants!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                        Now, I am just as proud of being The Raving Queen, as I can be, but, again, "The Golden Girls" did raise a point.  This was on the episode where Blanche and Dorothy were roped in by Rose to do a show about women who live together, only it turns out to be about lesbians!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                         These two, Pat on the right, Kathy on the left, identify themselves as "image consultants," even though they are as Sapphic as can be.  When questioned by Dorothy, the butch Pat speaks up, "we don't believe in labels."

                       So, now, in addition to being a queen, and a blogger, I am an image consultant!!!!!!!!!!! Haven't I always given my readers great fashion advice???????????????????

                        Labels are getting so out of hand, these days.  So, take a cue from Pat and Kathy.

                         If in a so-called alternative lifestyle, (is that term even acceptable today?) simply say you are an image consultant!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                          You won't believe the business you get!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Girls, This Could Become The New Gay Pick-Up Line!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                           "The Golden Girls" was certainly ahead of its time.  Now, with today's gender fluidity, anyone of us can wear a tennis skirt!  Granted, some may be better looking than others, but why shouldn't this line work?.  Look how well Betty White delivered it.

                               If I had a tennis skirt, I would dust it off, and go out, seeing what the results are.  I am sure David would be enticed.  Baby Gojira might pop his eyes out, in surprise.

                                Whether on the court, or off, this line and its apparel are sure to be future fashion staples!!!!!!!!!

                                   Just ask ANNA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What? No Boquet To Throw? And No One To Catch It??????????????????????????????????

                    As far as weddings go, girls, the one in "The Bride Of Frankenstein" was a bust.  No romantic formalities, and one had to feel sorry for the Monster getting jilted by the bride, which only proves that even a woman fashioned from dead bodies can still have better taste in men!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                       When I saw this as a small child, I did not understand the opening scene.  I had no idea the actress playing Mary Shelley and the Bride were one and the same.   I was fascinated by the hair in the film--not only the bride's, but Valerie Hobson's as Elizabeth.

                        The Bride was constructed from the body of a 19-year-old girl.  Elsa Lanchester looked on the very far side of 19.  Even as Mary Shelley.  How she stood on stilts for so long I will never know.  I never completely mastered the pogo stick.

                         Still, it was fun all the same.

                            As for "A Bucket Of Blood," the mixture of horror and humor Corman was trying to attain was not reached, until the following year, with "Little Shop Of Horrors."  So, this was not as fun the first time around.  Though Sventoonie and Company livened things up.

                           But, really, "The Bride Of Frankenstein" is such a gem, it should have been shown tomorrow night, the Saturday before Halloween.  What is being shown?

                               Stay tuned on here to find out!

Some Words On "Oliver Twist!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                              One is never too old to learn, darlings, and coming to "Oliver Twist," after more than twenty years, and on a third reading, I learned much.  Nancy, the novel's tragic heroine, and Nancy Drew are perhaps literature's two most famous Nancys.  And what was up with Charles Dickens here?  It has been argued for years whether he was or was not anti-Semitic, but, really, a writer of his brilliance, whom I revere, should have come up with better synonyms for Fagin than "the Jew."  How about scoundrel, thief, liar, evil, greedy, grasping, clutching.... you get the picture.  I am as far from Dickens as they come, and I just came up with some alterations.  So, I wonder what was going on here?

                               I did not realize how early in Dickens' career "Oliver Twist" was.  It was only his second novel, following "The Pickwick Papers," and was published in 1837.   It is the first of what I call "His Big Three;" the others being "David Copperfield (1850), and "Great Expectations (1861).  These are the central works anyone should read.  Others might argue for "Bleak House," "Dombey And Son," even "Our Mutual Friend," (which I need to do a re-read of) but those are on a lower tier, at least in my estimation.  And I am speaking as one who, by now, has read the entire Dickens oeuvre.

                              Regarding "Oliver Twist," most people think they know the story, but they really don't.  Many know it strictly from the wonderful 1968 musical film version of it, even though it skips over characters like Rose Maylie, and the interconnected lives of subsidiary characters connecting Oliver's life to everyone else.  And while Nancy's murder by London Bridge gives her death an even more tragic theatricality in the aforementioned film, she is actually killed in the home she shares with Bill Sikes, who beats her to death.  Nevertheless, Nancy and London Bridge are good enough to earn a place in history, and a real-life locale to be visited, as that is where she and Rose Maylie and Mr. Brownlow met to arrange Oliver's subsequent delivery there.

                                If the novel just followed the musical, it would eliminate over 100 pages from the novel.  And while I could place all the songs, I did not find one, in the novel, for "Oom- Pah- Pah," which many have heard me rave about on here.  At least, the way the musical film handled it.

                                 Re-reading "Oliver Twist" was a revelation.  Darlings, for those having not read it, it's time one did.  And I maintain, when he grows up, if he has a daughter, Oliver will name the child Nancy, after the brave, courageous woman who saved his life.

                                  Long live Charles Dickens!  And Shani Wallis!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Sadness Of Ida Perkins!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                       Almost as heartbreaking as "Cold Case's" "A Dollar, A Dream," was "The Golden Girls " episode "Brother, Can You Spare That Jacket?" which aired on December 3, 1988.

                      It centered around a lost jacket and a lottery ticket, but the heartrending part was when all go to the Mission Street Shelter, for the homeless, and Sophia runs into her old friend, Ida Perkins, played brilliantly, by Herta Ware.  She has lost everything and is now homeless.  Where were the nursing home laws, back then?

                      Ida brings home the fear we all have of aging and being alone.  This episode was wonderfully done, but a downer on a par with 1937's "Make Way For Tomorrow," which I cannot sit through again.  Directed by Leo McCarey, (who won the Best Director Oscar that year, for "The Awful Truth," but should have won for this) it concerns an elderly couple, played by Victor Moore and Beaulah Bondi, whose children cannot be bothered keeping them together.  They get taken care of, but by one child on the East Coast, the other on the West Coast. The best moment is their last; Moore tells off his kids over the phone, and they go to the hotel where they had had their honeymoon, fifty years ago.  Change is inevitable; but when the staff find out their story, their last evening is on the house, culminating with the two dancing as the band plays "Let Me Call You Sweetheart."  It breaks the heart.

                    But not as much as the train farewell scene, where he goes off to California, and she continues on her way back to Manhattan, both knowing they will never see each other again.

                     For those who have never seen this film, I defy you to watch it, dry eyed.

                     Herta Ware's brief, but impacting, performance as Ida aroused the same feelings in me.  It is an episode worth watching, but not too often.

                       And both the film and the episode do not offer an easy answer.

Girls, Join Us Tonight, As Svengoolie Presents The Greastest Hairstylist Film--"The Bride Of Frankenstein!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                            Darlings, this is one wedding that outdoes even the one in "Sound Of Music."  Elsa Lanchester's doo foreshadowed, twenty years before, the Fifties beehive bubble, and don't you just love that electric streak?  Girls, we all want it, and I cannot understand why women in the Thirties did not copy this then innovative hair style.  And the makeup!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                               She certainly had the priorities.  Once she gets a look at Colin Clive, she ditches Karloff, because she has the hots for the doctor!!!!!!!!!!!!   Can you blame her?  Too bad she lacked the perception to see Clive was one big closet case.  That was sure to cause problems should they have married!

                                  Artistic sets, and cinematography, Valerie Hobson, Ernest Thesiger and Una O'Connor on hand--this is just about a perfect evening.  Dwight Frye makes a cameo, and the opening, with Lanchester playing Mary Shelley is a hoot!  Also, as far as I know, this is the only picture ever made to depict...a miniature mermaid!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!    Accompanying this is Roger Corman's 1959 film, "A Bucket OF Blood," which Sventoonie will deconstruct.    Dick Miller is a hoot as the sculptor turned serial killer Walter Paisley, in this spoofy mix of 1953's "House Of Wax, and the beat movement.  Don't look for Jack Kerouac here!

                                   

                                   And have your cream rinse ready!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                     So, join us tonight for all the fun!  Baby Gojira and Cucumbo are especially excited.

                                      P.S.--Girls, I am not sure which version is being shown.  There was a remake of this film in 1995, again by Roger Corman.  The 1959 original was done last year, so maybe tonight will be the 1995 remake.  We will all have to watch and see!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                    

                                   

"Ladies And Gentlemen! 'The Tingler' Is In The Theater! Scream For Your Lives! SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                                  Oh, darlings, "The Tingler" was hilarious!  I had forgotten the bloody bathtub and hand in Technicolor, during Judith Evelyn's big scene, nor had I recalled how much of the plot had been lifted from Henri-Georges Clouzot's 1955 film, "Diabolique."

                                     Viewers spend most of the film waiting for Judith's big scene.  Though The Tingler crawling through the theater is hilarious, and the ending with the seemingly milquetoast husband getting what he gets is priceless.  And when the dead Judith Evelyn arises from the bed, I had to ask, "Is she really dead?"

                                          This film was the crowning jewel of the evening.

                                            Unfortunately, delightful as Sventoonie and Company were, the film chosen, "The Body Beneath," a 1970 forgotten film--and deservedly so--about a vampire coming to--get this--Carfax Abbey--to breed a new family of vampires--even vampire babies; how the hell is THAT done? --was not bad enough to be campy, and not good enough to stand on its own.  Now, if he had then deconstructed "The Tingler," that would have made for a doubly interesting evening.

                                               Girls, get your fun where and while you can!  "The Tingler" was great, and I know Pippin cannot wait for next week's feature!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                     Oh, and bring back Karen Black as "Julie."  She raises new chills in spinsterhood!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Is "AHS: NYC" For Real?????????????????? Girls, I Can Confirm It Is!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                              Maybe not literally, but they certainly got the atmosphere right.  When I saw Patti Lu Pone doing a Bette Midler, in a gay bath house, with a Norma Desmond type headdress on, singing "Fever," I was hooked.  The year 1981 was my starting year in NYC; when I was just making headways professionally, socially and theatrically.  Though I was still commuting from my hometown of Highland Park, New Jersey, between work and graduate school, I was spending more time in the city, especially with occasional overnights at friends or relations.

                                   The wildness of what viewers saw last night was true to life, and while I never went as far as that, I recall so much.  I even recall, at the time, thinking that, in a future which I never thought would come, I would regret my antics.  And so that future has arrived.  But, thankfully, my regret amounts to embarrassment and retrospective shock, not physical debilitation.  

                                    But this is not about me, but the show.  Let me fill you in.

                                    The show's premiere night started, as it did last season, with two episodes.   The same was true for last night's premiere.  The bad news is that this will be the season's format--two each one, cutting the time in half to five weeks instead of ten.  The whole thing will end on November 16.  Better to drag it out, for more pleasure.  Unfortunately, I don't make the rules, here.

                                                                        

                                                                         

                                      Now, these two episodes--the first entitled, "Something's Coming" (having nothing to do with the "West Side Story" song) amalgamated the movie "Cruising," foreshadowing the coming of Andrew Cunanan, and, more important, but rather forgotten, the Bear Stearns exec who was never caught, but was known to cruise packed leather bars at late hours, where he would pick up someone, take him to some place on Madison Avenue right above a clothing cleaner's, so no one would hear the screams, and torture them within an inch of life, leaving them physically damaged or maimed, threatening them with his power not to reveal anything.  To this day, no one knows who this was.

                                         For the purposes of this show, I do.  But more on that later.

                                           The second episode, entitled "Thank You For The Service," served up a lot.

                                        Who was playing who?  Joe Mantello, giving one of his, and the show's most nuanced performances, is easily a Larry Kramer stand-in.  But who was Billie Lourd playing?  Could it have been Doctor Mary Guinan?  And what the hell do deer have  to do with contracting AIDS?  Is this just a metaphor for all the sweet young things out on Fire Island that did contract it or is there a deeper meaning?  In his excellent book, "And The Band Played On," by Randy Shilts--which I urge anyone who has not to read it--he attributes monkeys in Africa to the start of the epidemic. Check it out, if you do not believe me.

                                            Girls, if you like your flesh hot, this is the steamy show for you.  Russell Tovey, as Patrick Read, a divorced, NYPD member, who still communicates with his ex-wife Barbara, and is a great big closet case, even though he lives with Adam (Charlie Carver) is the stand-in for the Al Pacino character in "Cruising," meaning I am certain he is the leather killer known as Big Daddy!  Let's wait and see!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                            Midwesterners must have gotten a shock at TV's most graphic portrayal of the S and M scene.  Girls, I knew folks who were in it, and tried to entice me, but no thanks!  Zachary Quinto was doing a stand-in for Robert Mapplethorpe, with some subtle hints he may be Big Daddy, though I doubt it.

                                                 Even lesbians get their due. Sandra Bernhard was just playing herself, but I loved when she and the girls enticed Mantello to give them a voice in print!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                  The Brownstone?  Oh, come on, everyone who is of a certain age know that is a reference to The Townhouse, up on East 59th Street.  As for Denis O'Hare, wonderful as always, I could not figure out if he was doing a riff on Jordan Leslie, or Andy Warhol!!!!!  He livened things up, but how does he fit into the scheme of things?  And how about that wonderful homeless woman who would occasionally pop up and yell, "Something's coming for you!"  I would love to know who plays her, and hope she is seen more often.

                                                    Will Patti LuPone's character have a backstory?  Will Patrick come out of the closet and reveal his true colors?  Did any young gays today understand about "the hanky code?"  Did they even catch that reference? The one thing I worry about "AHS--NYC" is that only those of us a certain age will understand it, having been there.  Those who don't may not tune in, which would be a shame.  It is a scary look at New York history.

                                                         And so far, the horror is not a bit supernatural!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I Am With Carol, On Her Mission!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                         Actually, Carol Burnett and Harold Prince did work together.  That was twenty years ago, back in 2002, when Prince produced Carol's autobiographical play, "Hollywood Arms," with Linda Lavin and winning a TONY Award for Michele Pawk, in a supporting role, as a character based on Carol's tragic mother.  So, the two have a connection, girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                            I support Carol in wanting to name a theater after Harold Prince, though I am not sure it is the Majestic that should be the one.   The reasoning behind this is, with "The Phantom Of The Opera" closing, after 35(!!!!) years, this will be Prince's last imprint on the Broadway stage.  I mean, if it turns out to be the Majestic Theatre, that is fine with me, but something more within the theater district, bigger, and more prestigious, should be the venue.  After all, darlings, we are talking about Harold Prince, who did more for the theater probably in our lifetimes than anyone else.

                             How I miss Hal Prince.  Not just his output, but meeting and working with him.  I would have loved both.

                              Get out there, girls, and all you Theatre Queens, and support Carol's mission on behalf of Harold Prince.

                               Before that parade passes us all by, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Girls, This Week "American Horror Story" Deals With A Reality Many Of Us Live With Each Day--New York!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                             I am sure the series means New York City, and that most of it will take place in Manhattan.  Although the other boroughs should not be overlooked, either, as each of them has their own fair share of creepiness and horror.

                             But I do have questions--will the murder of Kitty Genovese be reenacted?   O how about the 1972 killing of Roseann Quinn, which inspired Judith Rossner to writer "Looking For Mr. Goodbar?'  How about Alice Crimmins, in Queens?  And Son of Sam, aka David Berkowitz, all over the place???????????????

                             New York has faced its own share of horrors over the years, and each of us who has lived here has had our own bunch of horrific experiences.  So, there is plenty of material for this, the eleventh season.  I am just as curious as anyone to see how it is used.

                                  I am not sure of the cast.  I keep hearing Kathy Bates' name, but nothing confirms it. Nevertheless, we will have something to watch on Wednesdays, and discuss on here with all my girls, over coffee.

                                   No doubt, Covid, and the horrors inflicted upon the city, inspired this season.  We do not go out at night once it turns dark, for good reasons.

                                    The settings, the locales...it will be fun to see how they are used.

                                     Unfortunately, Kander and Ebb were wrong.  Those of us who make it here do so, because we cannot make it anywhere else.  Much like our suburban counterparts, who can't make it out of there, to go anywhere else!!!!!!!!!!

                                       A kind of horror, in itself!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Happy Birthday, Sister Camille D'Arienzo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                       Girls, I am telling you, the year is easier to get through by David and I, each Sunday, listening to the broadcast commentary of Sister Camille.   She is a joy and inspiration, and we always take comfort from what she says.  I have said this, and I will say it again--she and Dr. Anthouny Fauci are living saints!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                         So, I want to wish Sister Camille, on her 85th birthday, a joyous celebratory day.  Do what you want to do; after all you do for others, you deserve one for yourself, Sister.

                                          I want all out there to join me in wishing Sister Camille the happiest of birthdays.  And many, many more!

                                           Looking forward to you again, this Sunday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Something To Consider With "All About Eve!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                       Girls, gay or straight, we all LOVE this movie.  I have always wanted to play the Celeste Holm role of Karen Richards, because she always reminded me of my Aunt Katty, (short for Kathleen) and she had the best wardrobe in the film. And I could really nail those Cub Room scenes.

                        No doubt, Eve Harrington (wonderfully portrayed by Anne Baxter0 was despicable.  I don't think anyone on here does not know the film's famous ending, where Phoebe (played by Barbara Bates) make it clear to audiences that she intends to usurp Eve.

                          What the film doesn't go to tell, but I believe, is that Eve is more in for it than Margo.  First, Eve does not have the sense to be gracious to Phoebe, as she had been to Margo, and Margo to she; second, Phoebe's coldness lacks graciousness, and while she professes idolatry of Eve, she does not come off nearly as genuine as Anne Baxter int the early part of the film.

                                Maybe that is why Jospeh L. Mankiewicz originally entitled his script "Best Performance."  Who here is really acting, and who not?  I think Phoebe will bring about the downfall of Eve, who, because of her overt grandiosity now displayed with full force, will never catch on.  So, she is not so clever as she thinks.

                                     What do you think, girls?  Would Phoebe cancel out Eve, or would the latter claim her crown?  It is fun to conjecture, even if filmed it would not work.

                                      As Karen said, "Lloyd, we've got to go."

                                    But go where????????????????????????????????

Girls, Join Us Tomorrow Night, As Svengoolie Presents A Real Gem--William Castle's 1959 Classic, "The Tingler!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

           

                                                                                  

                          Let me start by telling you, darlings, the one reason to see this film is the great Judith Evelyn.  Just as she stole "Rear Window" five years before, with her portrayal of spinster Miss Lonelyhearts, so she does here as Mrs. Martha Ryerson Higgins, a deaf mute.  Her big scene is the entire show, I can tell you.

                          As for "The Tingler," well, it is a lobster-like creature that has to do with the nervous system and can be removed from a person's spine.  Everyone is alleged to have one, and if I recall correctly--and I may not, so let tomorrow prove it--the only way to stop it is to scream one's lungs out.

                           In the theater, there was a device used called "Peercepto," in which various audience chairs were wired to give off slight electrical shocks.  And, at some point, Vincent Price--or is it William Castle?--screams out, "Ladies and gentlemen, the Tingler is in the theater.  Scream!!!!!!!!!!"

                              I once saw this in a theater, and while I did not experience Peercepto, someone, a staff or selected audience member, ran though the place with something clutching at him, screaming his head off.  Ah, the fun times of youth.............

                                So, this will be a very special "Svengoolie," girls!  Meanwhile, I cannot wait to see what Sventoonie is going to deconstruct tomorrow.

                                  How about Louise Fletcher, as 1980's "Mama Dracula???????????????"

Darlings, "The Brain That Wouldn't Die" Took The Cake On "Svengoolie!" Or Should I Say "Sventoonie?????????????"

 

                                                                                

                               Something is transitioning on the "Svengoolie" show.  Rich Koz, Svengoolie himself, is advertising this talent search that people can audition for called "Spawn Of Svengoolie."  It makes me think of The Search For Scarlett O'Hara David O. Selznick instituted, when casting "Gone With The Wind."  Does that mean Koz is thinking of passing on the torch?  The only way that would be acceptable to me, darlings, would be if the whole show were turned over to Sventoonie!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                  Because, during last Saturday's broadcast, Sventoonie outdid Svengoolie.  As previously mentioned by yours truly, the feature attraction, 1958's "It! The Terror From Beyond Space," is worth only one viewing.  But when "Sventoonie" came on, the fun really began.

                                      Because the film "Sventoonie" tried to deconstruct was 1962's "The Brain That Wouldn't Die," wherein Virginia Leith walks off with the film by playing a talking head, embedded on a lasagna pan, delivering the best one-liners in the movie.  Let's get the following over with fast--Yes, she gives good head!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                          You see, her boyfriend, a scientist, gets into a car accident with her. He survives, but not only is she killed, but her head is decapitated!  So, he takes the head back to the lab, places her on that pan, hooks her up to chemicals and tubes, and before you know it, she is talking away!!!!!!!!!!!!  She should have worked for the telephone company!  His mission, of course, is to find a new body for her head, so he can restore his fiancé in full.  This is where the film turns David Lynch-ish, having him go to bohemian artists' studios, and underground bars, where he can find especially nubile young women as a potential body.  Bosoms are definitely a priority in this film.

                                            Meanwhile, for no explanation, there is a deformed monster hiding in the lab closet, who, at the end, breaks out, destroys everything, and the head/brain, plus everyone else, die.  But not before the head has the last word!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                This was the highlight of the entire evening.  So, I really think Koz should think about turning the show over to Sventoonie.

                                                     You know who would have just loved "The Brain That Wouldn't Die?"  The Queen Of Hearts, from "Alice In Wonderland."

We Have A New Reader, Girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let's Give A Warm Welcome!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                           The new reader identifies as KK, with the follower indicator up to 123, and all I can say is welcome.  I don't know what drew you to this blog, but I am glad you found your way.  Remember, it goes great with coffee, and I hope you find it informative, humorous, and entertaining.

                                               You have arrived at an interesting time.  The passing of Angela Lansbury, the potential one of a former school friend, and on October 15, the evening before what would have been her 97th birthday, Broadway is going to dim the lights for Angela Lansbury.  And today, given the time, I am about to start my 100th book, the earliest I have reached that point in any year.  So, things are happening over at The Raving Queen.

                                                   So, again, welcome KK, and if you wish to comment on any post, feel free to do so.

                                                                                 

                                 And here is the blog's unofficial theme song to welcome you.

                                 Enjoy, KK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
 

The Dream That "WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                                   I have had some strange dreams in my time, girls, but this one was pretty bizarre, and ultimately sad.  I wonder what triggered it?

                                    Until I contemplated writing this post, I had no idea this was the 30th Anniversary of the publication of Geoff Ryman's brilliant novel, "WAS," one of my favorites.  To think this and Donna Tartt's "The Secret History" were published the same year.  Quite a time for fiction!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                    "WAS" is a skillful reimagining of elements in "The Wizard Of Oz," focusing on those with unstable childhoods.  The character I connected most with was Jonathan, a gay actor, dying of AIDS, who has been obsessed with the 1939 movie, ever since first seeing it on TV, (that part is ME, darlings!) and who travels with a friend on a road trip to Kansas, where he can visit "The Wizard Of Oz' Museum," and watch the movie, which is screened daily.

                                        The real life of Dorothy Gale is imagined, and it is even worse than the movie.  No Miss Gulch here; she is sexually abused by Uncle Henry!  Yes, darlings, this is far from being MGM.  She becomes aggressive and begins to act out in school--can you blame her? --until a substitute teacher named L. Frank Baum (Yes, dears!) pacifies and encourages her.

                                           Also explored is Judy Garland's actual life, her troubled childhood, her parents' unstable marriage, and that making the movie was not the fun thing many of us as children envisioned.

                                            Now, what has this to do with a dream?  Well, in the dream, I was an adult, living in Highland Park, NJ, and driving away from the town, along River Road.   I come to an empty lot--it is Summer--and I see a theater company, outdoors, mounting a musical adaptation of Geoff Ryman's novel, "WAS."  Of course, I just had to see this, so I pulled over, and sat on bleachers, where I watched a company of actors, utilizing very colorful scenery and costumes, including air balloons, enacting the story I just previously described.  The thought went through my head that the score was very much like Elizabeth Swados.  The actors performed in front of us, while we watched them on bleachers, but behind them was a huge, cylindrical swimming pool, at which point during the second half of the show, they got into and performed.  At the end of the show, just like in "HAIR," where audience members join performers on stage, the audience joined the actors in the pool.

                                             When I awoke, I wondered if any attempt had ever been made to adapt "WAS."  My first thought was the dream was a signal for me to write one, and I imagined putting up ads on bulletin boards locally and in Manhattan, searching for collaborators.

                                                 But then I discovered there had been an adaptation of the novel, back in October of 2005, seventeen years ago.  It was sponsored by The American Musical Theater Project, and presented at the Ethel M. Barber Theatre, at Northwestern University.  It was directed by Tina Landau, and had Book and Lyrics by Barry Kleinbort , and Music by Joseph Thalken.  An earlier version of this same show had been done at the Human Race Theatre, in Dayton, Ohio.

                                                    Thus ends the theatrical part of this dream, and the easiest part of the post to write.  Now, in my dreams, often people from the past, or who are deceased, appear in them.  In this dream appeared someone I had not seen or been in touch with since my high school days.  His name is/was Alan Turniansky.

                                                      In the dream, I was up in the bleachers, and at the end of the show, I spotted Alan several rows down.  We recognized each other, and he kept beckoning to me, but I was never able to catch up.  He signaled to me from a car, suggesting we go somewhere for coffee, and catch up.  Or so it seemed, to me.

                                                       What was Alan doing in my dream?  I had not thought of him in quite some time, but I always had good memories of him.  We had a casual friendship, where we would always run into each other in various parts of town, then go and hang out.  Alan was funny, bright, and very kind; he accepted all my eccentricities.  I also admired that he was very adept at math; something I wish I had been.  Looking back, it is amazing I never asked Alan to tutor me, as I am sure he would have.  But what really sealed us was our interest in comic books.  We could name all the superheroes of the DC Universe, back in the 60's and 70's, and would try to stump the other.  Once, he invited me over to his house, on the South Side, and one wall of his attic was filled, alphabetized, and archived with more comics than I could take on.  Maybe he made the convention circuit.  To this day, I wonder 

                             Like anyone curious about someone from the past, I started an online search for Alan.  I found a picture of him in the 1978 yearbook from Worcester Polytechnic Institute, where he graduated from.  I recognized the picture instantly, even with a beard, which, I have to say, enhanced his appearance.  I don't often say that about guys who grow beards.

                                This was the Alan I remembered.  Then I tried to find out more about his adult life, and that is when things turned sad.  I had heard he had been living in Florida for a time, and that was confirmed.  But everything else pointed to Pikesville, MD, which had a Jewish enclave, and made sense, as Alan was Jewish.  I recall him saying, when we were young, how, on Yom Kippur, he would stay in his room all day, and read an Alan Drury novel. He was the only one my age--actually, Alan was a year behind me--who seemed to know who Alan Drury was.  That impressed me.

                                    The more I looked in Pikesville, the more the search ended there.  But then I found his name--or one matching--indicating burial in a Jewish cemetery in the Baltimore area, and the dates were frighteningly accurate--June 4, 1956-March 7, 2008.  The Alan Turniansky I knew would have been born in 1956, so I am ninety percent sure this is he.  Such a gifted fellow, to die so young, at the age of 51?  I cannot help but wonder what happened.

                                     And I regret not making more of an effort to be friends, keep in touch, whether it turned out, or not.  I am filled with sorrow and regret, but cherish the memories I had with Alan, especially his kindness.  I never got a gay vibe from him, nor was I interested that way, but somehow, to his credit, I think he understood me, and simply accepted me for who I was.  Which, at the time, I deeply appreciated.

                                     If anyone out there can confirm all this, please fill me in.  If I am wrong, and Alan, you are out there somewhere, leave a comment on this blog.

                                      It saddens me that someone so promising died so young.

                                    But it also warns me not to search for those in your past.  It may only bring sorrow.

                                      (IF) Rest In Peace, Alan, and know you are well remembered.

                                       See why this post was so hard to write, darlings????????????????

                     

"You Coaxed The Blues Right Out Of The Horn, Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaangela!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                            Girls, I am telling you, when a person reaches 95 years old, and beyond, I start believing, positively so, that they are never going to die.  So, when Angela Lansbury passed on October 11, just five days before her 97th birthday, I was shocked, and then disappointed.  I was so hoping she would reach the century mark.  The same thing when Betty White passed, on December 31, 2021, at the age of 99.  Damn!

                             Now, in paying homage to Angela Lansbury, I am appalled that most of the online yokels on here keep mentioning Jessica Fletcher, and "Murder, She Wrote."  Not that I did not watch it, and she surely did a wonderful job, but for me, and most Theater Queens, Angela Lansbury was the Broadway Musical Stage.  And with her passing, an era ends, and another coffin is nailed into the Broadway I grew up with and loved.

                             When "MAME" was getting on its feet, back in 1966, I was hospitalized, having open heart surgery, in New York.  I did not know who Angela Lansbury was, nor what "MAME" was.  Eventually, I got around to hearing the Original Broadway Cast album, and I never forgot.  What a voice and what a presence that came through, even on vinyl.  How badly I wanted to see her in "MAME," but at that age I was forbidden to travel to NYC by myself, and my parents were none too eager to do so--even though my father worked downtown, at the time!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                The first time I saw Angela Lansbury on stage was September 28, 1974.  It was a highlight of my theatrical life.  She was at the Winter Garden Theatre--where she scored big in "MAME"--and the show was a revival of "GYPSY," which I had never seen on stage, either.  My god, thinking back, I was only....19!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I would not turn 20, till November.

                                I was amazed.  Like a true star, she gave her all, and she dazzled.  Divas following her in her wake owe a debt of gratitude to her, for paving the way.

                                 Five years later, as my mother was dying in St. Peter's Hospital, in New Brunswick, NJ, I had bought a ticket to "Sweeney Todd"--before things went south.  I did not want to go, but I recall my mother insisting I go--and Angela did it again!  Mrs. Lovett was a lot kookier and frightening than Mama Rose, but she made it somehow palatable.  I loved her in the show; I ended up seeing it with she and Len Cariou six times!

                                   But it was in 1983, I got an unexpected wish--"MAME" was revived, at the Gershwin Theatre, former home of "Sweeney Todd," with Lansbury, Jane Connell, and Ann Francine, the first replacement for Beatrice Arthur, as Vera Charles.  The conductor was a friend of a friend, and I thanked him for making it sound the way I always imagined.  Of course, it was thrilling; I managed to see it three times.  I made the most of it, because I knew this would be my last chance for "MAME."

                                    Interestingly, no one has done it on Broadway, since Lansbury.  Who could?

                                    But there were movies--"Gaslight" (1944), "The Picture Of Dorian Gray," (1945), "National Velvet" (1945), and my favorite, the despicable mother in 1962's "The Manchurian Candidate."  

                                      Angela Lansbury was a forerunner of Meryl Streep--there was nothing she could not do.  I am glad I got the chance to see of much of her at her best.  It is hard to accept she is gone, but those memories will live on, and as long as, recordings can be played, she will be heard.

                                        Rest In Peace, Angela Lansbury.  You were quite a Dame!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                             Here is Angela Lansbury, as Mrs. Lovett, singing "The Worst Pies In London."  Enjoy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I Want My King Tut Magic Mummy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                   After all, girls, " a boy's best friend is his mummy!"

                                 I actually had this, when I was a child.  The red mummy magnetically fit into the blue coffin; when I would take it out, and turn the coffin upside down, it would even magnetize onto there.   The black top would seal in the mummy.

                                   But, alas, like all the toys of my childhood I often wish I had back, this one got lost, too.

                                   Of course, I had seen all the Universal Mummy movies by then.  But I was less into Egyptian culture, and more into magnetic games, and such.  So, I just loved my King Tut Magic Mummy.

                                      I wonder if they are still available?  If so, I will order one

                                      "How'd he get so funky?  King Tut!                                                                                                               Did he do The Monkey?                                                                                                                               Born in Arizona, moved to Babylonia, King Tut!

                                       He was born in Arizona, got a condo made of stona! King Tut!"

 

Why Does It Have To Be The Orange One????????????????????????????

                                       From the time I was a child, I loved M and M's plain chocolate candies.  My favorite one was the orange, because I have always loved that color.  Fashion wise, it has always been my signature.

                                           Decades before, when I was eating more M and M's--which I cannot now, as I am a diabetic--and my friend Angela would have her famous Manhattan parties, she would always set aside a special bowl of orange M and M's exclusively for me.

                                              I still love orange M and M's and have thought nothing of it. But now, in a strictly dumb advertising move, Mars, who owns M and M's, has decided to redefine the character of each color.  And Orange has been selected as having anxiety disorder.

                                                Why, orange, and not some other color?  Because I happen to have anxiety disorder; I actually take meds for it.  Of all the colors in the M and M's spectrum, why did it have to be orange?  Now, I will be branded forever.

                                                  Girls, I am telling you, it gets me all anxious, just thinking about it.