On Aging Parents

                         As the painful actuality of my father's passing seeps in gradually, I have to confess the idea for this post popped into my head several days before he died.  I started thinking back to my two favorite Dickens novels, "David Copperfield" an d "Great Expectations," where, in one of them was a minor, though, being Dickens, delightful character, being cared for by his son, known as "Aged Parent," or, more commonly, "Aged P."

                         I was certain, darlings, that he was in "David Copperfield," being the book is longer and has far many more characters.  But, when I did the research, I found Aged Parent was in "Great Expectations."  I am crushed.  How can I call myself a Dickensian?  Well, I still will.  What this suggests to me is that I need to reread "Great Expectations," which I will do sometime this year.  It will certainly be a pleasure.

                          But Aged Parent is the father of John Wemmick, a work associate of Pip's, as he begins his journey up the career ladder.  I was reminded of him in the days of my father's passing, because, all too swiftly, before my eyes, before I could realize it, he had turned into Aged Parent himself.

                          It is hard for us to see the vital adults we come to see our parents as, from being children, alter into old age.  Just as it is hard for some of us--and I had a hard time--transitioning from childhood to adulthood, via puberty.  Watch out for those early signs, kids--puberty is your first sign of Life's trouble!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                            This is hardly a testament to my father.  That will come later, and be in the flaming and humorous style I am known for.  But my more somber mood makes me well aware of Aged Parent.  We all will have one, and some of us eventually will become one.

                             To all I say, take care of them, as best you can.  And may someone, at the time, take equally good care of you or us.

That Blanche Taylor Moore Was One Piece Of Work!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                       When William March published his novel, "The Bad Seed," in 1954, the genetic cause of the whole story, a fictitious female serial killer named Bessie Denker, was based on Belle Gunness and Jane Toppan.  Bessie was electrocuted in the electric chair, which, in turn, was based on Ruth Snyder.

                        Bessie was a poison specialist, but she never used the same one on any of her victims, making her hard to detect, and her apprehension took a longer time.

                          But Blanche Taylor Moore, from North Carolina, played the whole Southern lady,  Christian thing, to the hilt.  Meanwhile, she had killed her husband, his parents, and a boyfriend with arsenic.  When she was convicted, on November 14, 1990, charged only with the murder of boyfriend Raymond Reid, and not her husband, James Napoleon Taylor, nor his parents, and that of another boyfriend, Dwight Moore, she proclaimed her innocence, like a performing televangelist.

                          Her being a serial killer alone qualifies her for this week's Raving Queen Bitch Of The Week Award,   But her camp antics on the stand, which I have seen, are worthy of Agnes Moorehead, as Sister Alma, the radio Christian evangelist, embraced by the deranged character of Helen Hill/Martin, played by Shelley Winters, in the 1971 film, "What's The Matter With Helen?."
Of course, the killing involved two things she loved--the thrill of the act, and money.  

                          But her camp style, and delusional belief that she was just a God fearin' Christian makes her idea as Bitch Of The Week.

                          I am telling you, if any of our great American Southern writers--Tennessee Williams,
Truman Capote, or Carson McCullers, had gotten their writing hands on Blanche, what a field day they would have had with her!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                            Too bad Mary Tyler Moore is not with us.  Blanche would make for her best role, since Sante Kimes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Happy Shrove Tuesday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 Can you believe it is Shrove Tuesday, already?  Let begins tomorrow.

                                  So, I want to wish all my girls a Happy Shrove Tuesday, and to eat some
  pancakes, today, or whatever it is that does it for you.  Pancakes have always been my special Shrove Tuesday tradition.  I was raised on it.

                                   Which brings me to something else I have to let you all know.  I may be out of touch for awhile; hopefully not more than a week.  Last night, sometime before eighty thirty PM, my father, at 102, passed from this world to the next.  He died.  It was not unexpected, but there is a lot to do, and it may cut into my time here.  Nevertheless, when the dust settles I will post an obit of my own on him here.  Now, I have to write a real one.

                                     So, a happy Shrove Tuesday to all, and a safe and healthy Lent, culminating here, of course, in the annual screening of "The Song Of Bernadette"

                                       Eat those pancakes, loves!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Today's Theatrical Legends Are Dropping Like Flies!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                 " I tried so hard.  I studied and I read--I
                                                     thought I wasn't much.  I was terrific,
                                                    and I walked my goddamn feet off.
                                                      What happened to you, Phyl?"
                                                   Phyllis Rogers Stone, in "Follies."

                             I guess I was destined to incorporate this into a post.  Though,
ironically, the idea for it came as the result of another one's passing, one whose
name, if you have been on here long enough, you have read about over time,
and now will for the last time,

                              Diane Dykeman.  That is right, she who symbolized all the acceptance and recognition I wanted from my peers  and teachers, during my upper school years, but never
received.  She passed away several weeks ago, and it had me musing about Phyllis in
"Follies."  Her speech here was applicable to me.  I thought I wasn't much, back, then, but
I was.  Hell, I was terrific!  Do you hear that, ye in Highland Park?  I was TERRIFIC!!!!!!!!!

                                As for what happened to me, I moved to New York, where I worked in the arts, and reinvented myself as this gadabout (or, maybe, gayabout?) town!   After all, someone had to replace Truman  Capote!!!!!!!!!!!!  And here we are!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                               Maybe, while musing over Phyllis, my subconscious was thinking about the greatest one I ever saw live--Jan Maxwell!  Alexis Smith will always own the role, but Jan, surpassing even Blythe Danner, who was so mis-directed it was not her fault--was the definitive Phyllis, as far as I was concerned.

                               And now, just days, it seems, after John Mahoney, she has left us, having been ill with cancer.  She was 61.  Younger than I, dolls!  With her regal maturity she brought to all her roles,  I thought she was always older.  Or maybe it' s just my youthful immaturity!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                               I also saw Jan Maxwell in two other shows, the 1998 (Oh, my God! That's twenty years!!!!!!!!!!) revival of "The Sound Of Music," where she humanized the Baroness to a degree, removing it from the campy, yet enjoyable, terrain of Eleanor Parker in the movie!  And she was just as great in the non-musical play, "The Royal Family," with Rosemary Harris, which I also saw.

                                 Whenever one saw Jan's name on a cast roster, one was assured a polished performance.  She never gave anything less.  She was a real working New York actress.

                                   And now two of the brightest firmaments--she and Mahoney--are giving nightly performances in the skies.

                                     Rest In Peace, Jan.  You will be missed.  We loved you!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                     Here is Jan and company in "Who's That Woman?" from her 2011 appearance in "Follies."  I never thought, in seven years, I would be writing a memorial post about her!

   

I Have A Deliciously, Awful Idea, Dolls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                          First, let me make one thing perfectly clear.  I never went in for the "Sing Along" thing with movies, so I refused to go to any "Sing Along 'Sound Of Music's."  When I go to see that film, I want an artistic experience, especially with the recent passing of Charmian Carr, and--I still can't get over it!!!!!!!!--Heather Menzies!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Those girls had the roles of their lifetimes.  Out of memory for them, it is time for a screen revival.  Somewhere in Manhattan!  Come on!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                          Now, my idea may seem more outrageous, but, really I think it would be more fun, and less disrespectful to an artistic film classic.

                          I am certain Ted Chapin, and the Rodgers And Hammerstein Foundation would not go for my idea, but here it is!

                           Take the stage script of the show, as done in 1959, unlike today's productions, which try to incorporate the movie, and add a bit of 'Rocky Horror' to it.

                            I call it "The DEMENTED Sound Of Music!"

                            It is done entirely by casting.  Much of it, of course, drag!

                            Maria is played by a counter tenor twink, with the musculature of a chorus boy!

                            The Mother Superior is played as some sexual harridan, showing her fish net stockinged legs, any chance she gets, and speaking and singing like a character out of Luchino Visconti's 1969 film, "The Damned!"

                             Her associates are all heavy and hirsute, enacted by San Francisco's Sisters Of Perpetual Indulgence!

                             Best of all, are The Children!  The three older girls--Liesl, Louisa and Brigitta, are played by Sissy Steffie types, that is, oversized men each dressed like Shirley Temple!  Marta and Gretl can be played by female midgets, while the boys should be cast as the butchest things in the bunch.  Males will be needed for this, although if there any talented, young, aspiring beans n' franks lesbians out there, they would do well.

                              Captain Von Trapp.  What to do about him?  How about a tranny?  But one who is a "chick with dick??????????????"

                               Rolf is easier!  A young, twenty something leather boy, in harness and chaps!

                               The Baroness?  Fabulous!  Either a glam drag queen, like Hedda Lettuce, or an
oversized one,  like Dvine!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 Max Detweiler?  Peter Dinklage would be perfect!  If he is not available, then someone of his height!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                  Franz and Frau Schmidt should be played with no sense of mystery. They openly dress in brown, with red arm bans, and a white background, bearing the swastika.  The Von Trapps still play it, like they have no idea.  Just like in the movie!

                                  The Other Nazis should all goose step daintily, like the closet queens all are. Maybe they should be given a reprise of "No Way To Stop It!"

                                  At the very end of the show, when the family marches over the mountains, and the chorus hits its final note, the Mother Superior holds up a political banner,  crying "Freedom!" and showing a picture of Angela Davis!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                   I am telling you, people would be clamoring for tickets.  Forget that "Hamilton" hype!  Even that Lin Manuel-Miranda would be in line to audition--for anything!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                    Those hills will not just be alive, darlings!  They will be flaming!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                     The time has come!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                           

What A Reading Expereince!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 Girls, I am telling you, I never expected so much from this novel, as what I got.

                                 Cormac McCarthy is macho to the core. But beneath lurks the soul of a poet. His masterwork, "Blood Meridian," is one of the most violent books I have ever read, yet written with a poetic lyricism that makes the distasteful bearable, in order for the reader to understand just how horrible it actually is.

                                  Much of the same can be said for "Suttree," which I think is his best novel, next to the aforementioned.  But it is so much more. It has a Faulknerian quality, and owes a lot to Charles Dickens, as this is, essentially, an American, Westernized version, of his lengthiest novel, "Our Mutual Friend."   A note to any students out there, if you are looking for a topic for your as yet unwritten English Lit paper, here it is--read and write a comparison on both books.

                                   Dickens' title is dark, referring to death, who comes to all.  McCarthy's title refers to Cornelius Suttree, from a well bread Tennessee family, who chooses life as a n'er do well.
When his son dies, and wife goes to pieces, he is kicked out, and disowned by the family, he is kicked out, and lives a life of squalor, in a houseboat, among the lowlifes along the Tennessee river.

                                   That is the plot. But the real story lies in the characters he meets along the way; everyone from itinerant drifters, like Gene Harrogate, to prostitutes.  There are times when the novel seems to morph into Robert Altman's 1971 film, "McCabe and Mrs. Miller;" I could almost hear the Leonard Cohen songs in my head, as I was reading.

                                     Both books are dense, and a challenge to read.  But well worth it.  "Suttree" is about half the length of Dickens' opus,  but reminds me I need to reread the latter.  It has been too long.  But I need the Modern Library Classics edition of it, to complete my collection.

                                       "Suttrree" is a marvelous surprise--haunting and lyrical, yet macho as hell. If someone concealed the cover from me, and I was asked who wrote this, I would have said Cormac McCarthy. No one can write this kind of story, like him.

                                         You've got to read it, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"On February 11, 1858.................."

                           Forget Jennifer Jones, and the movie....just for a moment, girls!

                           I am talking about the real Bernadette Soubirous now; on this very day, 160 years ago, at the grotto of Massabielle, in Lourdes, France, the Blessed Virgin Mary appeared to her in the first of a series of visions that changed the course of history.

                          So, it is important to remember the actual Bernadette, today, and not the memorable screen recreation by Jones.  That comes on Easter Sunday, with the annual screening.

                          Bernadette suffered much to gain the sainthood she so rich deserved.

                          Remember to say some prayers to she, or Mary, on this special day!