Maybe Charles Isherwood And Ben Brantley Should Be The New Bette And Joan!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 I am telling you, darlings, not since the days of Hedda and Louella--which were WELL before my time!!!!!!!!!--has their been such a journalistic ruckus as that over Charles Isherwood, at The New York Times.

                                  I have to side with Charles.  Not that I always agreed with him--he did "discover" and laud that overrated piece of trash called "Spring Awakening," which sought to be the "HAIR" of its day, but will never mark the same passage of time as that older, classic musical.

                                    Charles Isherwood wrote better than Brantley.  His reviews, especially the praiseworthy ones, read like plain, old fashioned ass kissing.  And you can tell just by looking at him that he is intellectually lacking, a big bottom feeder, a brown noser, and a star fucker!  Oh, my God, Ben, you saw the original "Chorus Line" as a college student?  Honey, get over it!  A lot of us your age--as am I--out there, did!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                      Isherwood's writing was less pithy.  Less politically correct, and more what he really thought.  As The Times keeps saying, "The truth is hard."  They certainly can't have that, can they?  Not in their Arts department!  They want to give readers what they want to hear.

                                       Isherwood realized the sometime value of controversy, of not taking the popular stand.  Just like yours truly.  He should not be fired.  He should be lauded.

                                        The Times should hire Isherwood back, and slap that dizzy queen, Brantley!

                                         Hang it up, Ben!  You're through!

                                         Honey, as far as I am concerned, you were never there!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Can You Beleive It, Girls????????????? Shelley Plimpton Is 70!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                  I don't know if this marks the official end of the Aquarius age, but today does happen to be the 70th birthday of Shelley Plimpton, who, as Crissy, in the original production and cast of "HAIR," took center stage, delivering what is still, and will always be, her signature song, "Frank Mills!"

                                   Later, Shelley went on to another important accomplishment--her daughter, the gifted actress, Martha Plimpton!

                                    It is as inconceivable for me to accept Shelley has reached this age as it has that I have reached retirement!  But, there you are!

                                     Happy Birthday, Shelley, and many more!  You remain my role model for my reality performance,  each September 12, in front of the Waverly!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                      Catch me again, this year, girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                       Now, here is Shelley in the Off-Broadway production. Note the difference
in tempo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                         Looking good, Shelley!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hunter's Steak And Ale House Is In A Tough Position!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                               Following the circus, darlings, we returned to our neighborhood, slightly beyond where we live, in Bay Ridge, in the 90's, to dine here, thanks to a gift certificate from our lovely friend, Donna.

                                I should come back, and do a gig!  Hey, Hunter's, can you hire me?  I would love to do a set with the pianist who was there this past Friday night.  I almost did, because he played so many tunes I knew, I just could not help myself.  And, short of sotto voce, my voice carries!

                                 Which is not to say the meal was not delicious. We both had the T-Bone steak, which was luscious.  David had a baked potato, while I had saffron rice.  Very satisfying.  As was his shrimp cocktail.  I opted for a lighter tomato and mozzarella, which was fine, but I am telling you--and remember, this is me, talking--they went a little overboard with the balsamic dressing.  And for ME to say that........well!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                  Desert was nice.  David had a ice cream, while I had apple strudel with vanilla ice cream.  We did not have coffee.  The staff was friendly and accommodating.

                                   The problem is, this is, sadly, the stepchild of Chadwick's.  Meaning if Chadwick's was not nearby, this might reign supreme.   But anyplace competing with Chadwick's will have its bar lowered, because Chadwick's sets its gold standard so high.

                                     The clientele was fascinating--a mixture of "The Iceman Cometh," and "Anna Christie."  I loved seeing the dissipated Irish spinsters, imbibing and most likely eating the one good meal they have had that week; so much so, I could hear the strains of the Henry Mancini classic, "Dear Heart," in my head.  "A single room.........a table for one!"

                                       But nothing stopped these dowagers from having as good a time as they could have.  Which means you will, too.  It may not be Chadwick's, but what is???????????

                                        And, should I appear there in the future, I will let you know, and take requests!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A Bit Of DeMille, Mixed In With A Little "Star Wars," And Just A Dash Of "Starlight Express!!!!!!!!!!!"

   
                              My parents first took me to the Ringling Bros., Barnum And Bailey Circus, in the Spring of 1960, when I was just five years old.  It was at the old Madison Square Garden.  Then, when I was older, in the fourth grade, I went again. In the newer Garden!  My last trip to the circus was in 1974, about ten years after.  And that is now 43 years ago.

                               With the end of an era of American artistry in sight, David and I wanted to take it in, one final time.  And we did, this past Friday, at Brooklyn's Barclay Center.

                                Personally, darlings, I just LOVED Cashmere, the tiger!  A real trouper, that one!  All the animals were!  Which is why I liked them the best.  But how the circus has changed.  An inter galactic concept show?  Ice skating?  Speeding cycles inside a sphere?  This seemed more like "Starlight Express" to me, instead of the circus, as I remembered it.  I know times have changed, but does the circus have to be marred by this, too?????????????

                                 Maybe that is why it is folding.  The smell of popcorn and animals was gone, and so was the magical lure that made us all, in our younger day, Toby Tylers, who wanted to join the circus.  Even I, while watching the aerialists, was reminded of the brief time when I wanted to do this.
Can you imagine?  Now, I wouldn't make it down a slide in a children's park!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 The circus was a touchstone in the lives of many of us, when children.   Now, future generations will be deprived of this. Since they will have no basis of comparison, it may not be lost on them, but on the generations before them.

                                 How sad, being reduced from touchstone to touch tone!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"The Lonely Night Discloses......................"

                              This, the final moment, with Lee Remick walking into the night, the bar sign flickering for seeming eternity, was what made "Days Of Wine And Roses" click, for me.  I did not want to end up like that, but, then, there was really no fear, as I did not go near the bottle, that much.  I mean, for my whole adolescence, even childhood, I knew where my parents kept the liquor in the house, but  did I ever go after it?  Not at all!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Scout's honor!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                             A terrifying spectacle, which happened last week, made me think back to this moment.  Because of the incident, I saw what happens to people like Lee's character, after the film stops rolling.

                              They continue, enslaved to the bottle, blithely unaware of what is happening to them.  They feel young, they feel eternal, that nothing will stop that ride on the merry-go-round.

                               Until it does.  Until debilitating diseases--like diabetes and depression--set in.  Until the person refuses to eat, take meds, losing hair, teeth, and all sense of reason.

                                 This is happening, right now, to someone I know.  And it is infinitely more painful than the final shot of Lee Remick.  Because that was just a movie.  This is the sad reality.

                                   Which is what I wish the person in question would see.  While he is still alive.
While he can still get help.

                                     Before the time arrives, when he can't!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Darlings, The 'Baby Jane' Recreation Scenes Will Be A Riot!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 For those like myself, for whom "What Ever Happened To Baby Jane?" was a seminal film, epitomizing the childhood I really wanted to have, rather than the actual one I had, Ryan Murphy's "Feud" is sure to be a camp delight!

                                  Susan Sarandon as Bette Davis!  Jessica Lange as Joan Crawford!  And how about--Alfred Molina, as Robert Aldrich?  Stanley Tucci, as Jack Warner?  Judy Davis, as Hedda Hopper?  Sarah Paulson, as Geraldine Page?  And....oh, my God.....Catherine Zeta-Jones as Olivia De Havilland????????????  Oh, and Kathy Bates, as Joan Blondell?????????

                                    Who can believe this cast?  Even more, who can believe this camp?  I cannot wait to see it, but it better not tarnish my memory of the artistry of "What Ever Happened To Baby Jane?," a movie that, like "Valley Of The Dolls," defines who I am!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                       You know, I have always wanted to play Baby Jane.  Some might say I have been doing it all my life!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                         "Oh, really?  But will we like it?"

                                          We BETTER like it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

All You Need Is A Dollar (Oh, All Right, Twenty Million!!!!!!!!!) And A Dream!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                 We certainly have the dream, darlings!  At least I have!

                                  How many gay men out there have dreamed--aspired, really--to living at Grey Gardens, in the Hamptons, and being their own iconoclastic version of Little Edie??????  I know I have!

                                    Well, girls. I have just heard that Sally Quinn, herself, has put it on the market for someone lucky enough to buy it.  When she bought it, in 1979, she paid $220K.  Today, Sally is asking $20 million!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                      She will get it, too, due to the house's history and reputation.  So, girls, break open those piggy banks, and cash in those investment portfolios if one of you wants to own the home of your dreams.

                                      Of course, I would love it.  And, if not, you know what my dream house is--a replica of Tara!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                       What does one serve at a party, at Grey Gardens?????????  Why, corn on the cob, of course!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                           "Edie, this corn is delicious!!!!!!!!!!!!!"