Home, Hospice, More Updates and Revisionist History

There are these little tidbits I’d like to share, or at least pass along. Warning: May be long for some readers.

My apologies for not answering comments or reading the blogs of others, but dope and high fevers will do that to you, if you get my drift. It didn’t seem that my comments were required at the time. As time goes on and my life (hopefully) begins to stabilize I can find a remedy for that omission.

Just as the Flu was making like Sherman in its relentless march through my body to the sea, two new things popped up (no pun intended); glands in my neck and throat began to swell to the size of large duck eggs. Suddenly I couldn’t move my mouth and the jaws wouldn’t cooperate. The mouth felt as if I were chewing on razor blades, all tiny cuts therein, so sipping anything other than water was a no-no. Another IV antibiotic was called in for that one - took 5 days before jaws would move so I could eat solid foods again.

I lived on water, Ensure, Magic Cup, and ice cream. Even cooked fruit caused the glands to react and stung my mouth like hell.

As the neck glandular swelling receded a new pain and swelling in my groin appeared. Ultrasounds, and x-rays later discovered that I have a hernia - again swells to the size of an egg. Have to wear a special belt whenever I am sitting or standing.  The egg disappears into the intestines when lying down and there is no pain. Tempting, but I can’t allow myself to buy into that scenario. I need to regain my strength. 

The Site Meter visit counter died suddenly last December and the replacement is one of those free things that counts every hit, not only  the extended visits.  So, just know that I am not so popular as it may appear.  But you knew that already.

I have to work on the info for the Funeral Home (payment in advance, no kidding) for the what will be done with my remains and the info for the death certificate as well as any obituary I may want to have published.  Yes, all paid for in advance. I guess to prove in some bizarre way that I am not play-acting and this is the real thing.

And speaking of Obituaries - or as in this funny but sad case a pre-obituary - there is THIS revision of history I stumbled upon this morning and haven’t decided just how sick, sad, poorly thought out and written, and over the top it really is. I’ve never read a pseudo-obituary. That said, especially where the writer gives themselves more ink than the supposed subject of the piece. This from a person who lives in the past, loves to play the put-upon misunderstood martyr in all situations. 

In any event, he becomes the larger-than-life martyr with each retelling of this tale (it’s been reincarnated a few times on his blog) because well, it’s all about him, after all. I guess I ought to be angry, but at this stage what’s the point. That would take more energy than being sad for the man, which is more than he deserves. 

At this time when my health is fragile I prefer people in my life who love, respect, and care about me. Unfortunately, this person isn’t one of them. 

Anyone involved in the retelling of this sordid, long-forgotten anecdote (supposedly about the subject of the obit although any connection is a vague stretch, indeed) is either long gone or have long ago forgotten the original childish situation.

Anyway, it could be your laugh of the day.  Your choice.

My walking stick has arrived just in time for my release from hospital. The one I really had my eye on was made in Ireland out of traditional Black Thorn, was a bit expensive and would take 4 to 6 weeks before being dispatched. Of course, I couldn't wait that long, so this one will do me well. In three sections it is quite sturdy and a full 55’ tall when screwed together. It comes with a canvas bag and collapses to 18” sections.  I love the thing. As I said in an earlier post, I didn’t want a traditional cane, but rather a hiking/walking stick for more stability and security. And here it is.

Meals on Wheels will be set up tomorrow or next day helping to provide 1 to 3 meals daily, and the weather is supposed to warm up by week’s end. After being in a germ-infested, temperature-controlled environment for so long it’s taking me a while to get used to real fresh air and the cold temperatures. Truth be told, it’s in the 40s but very cold to my tired emaciated old body.

Every hour I push myself a little harder, a little farther from my comfortable cocoon to do more for myself once again. That under the care of Hospice I get to self medicate is a luxury beyond measure. No more having to wait an additional 3 hours before the hospital computer tells me I can have pain med is a boon to me and all mankind. I don't abuse the privilege, but it's nice to know it's there. 

I just read that Hospice will provide Oxygen if needed, as well as one of those emergency medical alert systems (like that annoying “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up” thing) so I’ll find out more in the coming week as I get settled in to this new living situation.

Just as I wrote that last bit a phone call came in from Hospice - it was a daily check-in to find out if all was well or if anything was needed. 

The fact that I need someone to shave my head (after 2 months it’s very scary) was not included in their offer of aid.  The last time I shaved was before the shoulder dislocation, when I was able to lift my arm above my head…not any more. I’ll have to figure out something else, is all.

Hell, I’m amazed I’m still here and back at my own place, for however long I’ve got.

If all goes well and my strength improves I will be having a lunch of Fish and Chips with a pint of Newcastle Brown Ale with Linda and Jeffrey tomorrow. To say I’m looking forward to the outing would be an understatement. 

“Do what’s necessary, then do what’s possible, and suddenly you find you’re doing the impossible.” Anonymous

Still Amazed.

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Just a Thought: A Stagnant Truth.

How far does loyalty and American Patriotism take you when a young, supposedly heterosexual soldier is ordered to rape (FUCK) anally abuse teenage boys?  Forget whether the acts were performed in front of family members, or not. It’s the very act that matters.

Just following orders! (?) Foul, evil, conniving, self-righteous.  Humans enjoy nothing more than the act of harming other humans

Does it take this sick behavior to finally stop you in your tracks to say, “this, my entire way of life, has been a vast red-white-blue lie.”?  Does it?  Even a little bit? No wonder more and more of our soldiers and hurting. There are secrets to keep, they bought into the lie, too.

Yes, by all means, let’s offer a free ride and safe passage to George Bush and Dick Cheney, but do everything possible to draw-and-quarter the likes of Edward Snowden for drawing attention to their crimes, and others.

All humans are truly pathetic, dangerous creatures. We’d rather harm others who suffered as we have, than to banish that suffering and those who ordered it in the first place.

I am sick.

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I Remember These Things

First a note to readers: If a paragraph makes no sense in any post, please be advised that Blogger did (and does) re-arrange words in an arbitrary manner.  Usually in a sentence where an image has been inserted.  I don’t know why this matters, I just know it’s true.  I didn’t realize this was happening until I was proofing a few posts online recently. From now on, after posting, I will re-read it online and attempt to correct what Blogger has messed with. Sorry for any inconvenience to your brain.

I Remember These Things.

I remember the time before Black Friday. It was a 4-day weekend usually spent visiting friends and family all the while eating more turkey than you would in the next 11 months.

I remember when there was NO sunday shopping. (In NOLA,  grocery stores were open, liquor was available 24/7 and pharmacies were open. However, back then they sold only pharmaceuticals - no toys, groceries, or any non-health related items.)

I remember when you couldn’t find products from certain manufacturers at competitive prices, no matter how hard you tried,  more than a few cents either way. I speak of price fixing by companies like Panasonic and Sony, which was finally addressed in the late 1970s. Though they were hit with huge fines the end result is that consumers lost out, as usual. 

I can remember walking into a store looking for an item and if you didn’t see what you needed, there was always more in the “back” stock room and employees knew where to find it.  It was called service back then...

I remember great customer service and care, even being on a first name basis with sales staff.  Not anymore.

If retailers wonder why the internet has taken over as King and Queen of retail, they can look at themselves, their greed, treatment of employees, and lack of care for the customer base. People eventually get tired of being treated badly or abused. Really, they do. Then they vote with their feet and wallets.

For the most part, we went elsewhere. When you get better service from a small online retailer than a big name store you’ve been shopping for years, it’s time to move on. No customer service or support to speak of? Why wait in long lines to get a problem fixed? Go elsewhere. All fixed usually with a few clicks in minutes or with a quick email.  At least that’s my experience.

A far cry from the older model of holiday shopping.

I am still amazed.

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The Scots, Shorter Turkey Day, & Shopping UK

Finished the ebook “How the Scots Invented the Modern World” and highly recommend it for history buffs and Anglophiles for a quick and easy, insightful read. I am sure Ur-Spo would enjoy it. And maybe even Ron at (Retired in Delaware) since he's into genealogy and family histories. In fact, anyone who enjoys the historic connections between the Britons and the Americans will learn a great deal that we didn’t read about in our history books. 

The Scottish Enlightenment, the brutal, horrific Highland Clearances, the great thinkers and doers, the proud and wide-spread Philosophy of Scottish Educational System. Absolutely fascinating. It was probably a quick read because so many real life characters were written in a way that made their historic deeds and past lives before - and during - the diaspora that much more interesting. I  hope that makes sense.

I am now on to LOTR which ought to take me well into December and away from anything and everything unpleasant. Since these are real wood-pulp books, they’ll be more of a chore to lug to and from medical appointments, but we’ll get it done.

Special Alert: Today I am in a quandary and I need help.  No matter how much I clear out the one, single closet in this apartment, there is always more to find. I came upon two more large tubs today containing items that must be identified, sorted, cleaned (if usable) thrown away (if not) and that may just be the one thing a shopper at the Thrift store is looking for. I don’t know where it is all coming from and half is unrecognizable. Now Back to Regular Blogging.

I am not looking forward to Thanksgiving. Never really liked the holiday as a kid - too much family mishugass ending in arguments and creating bad feelings

too close to the real holidays.  We weren’t a sports kind of family, so verbally beating up on relatives was the order of the day. As a kid I remember that after helping clean up the kitchen my refuge was the  bedroom where I would listen to music or read for the duration. I was never missed.

Only as a gay adult in a “stable” relationship did I begin relating to the holiday. My house became the go-to place for wayward gays and lesbians with no other place to go. From NYC and NJ, to the Delaware shore. Over the years it became a tradition.  The first year there were 5 waifs; over the years the numbers fluctuated from 5 to 11 and it was all good fun. I usually did the cooking - others brought side dishes or desserts - and everyone else cleaned up.  We'd listen to music, dance and/or watch movies on the teevee machine. Spanning the eras from Vinyl to CD; VHS to DVDs.  Very relaxing times. That life, all those people are long gone. It’s a day like any other, albeit a quieter one and I don’t miss the work and fuss one tiny bit. 

It has been over a month since I ordered the “V” shape pillow from the company in the UK.  It has now been 26 days since I received word that the package had been ‘dispatched’ but to this date, the package has not yet arrived. 

The reply to my request of “Hey! What Gives” returned a familiar excuse to us Americans - “it’s the busiest time of year for the Royal Mail as it is absolutely swamped, so please be patient and give it another 3 to 5 days.”  Well, what else can I do?  They have my money and the damned thing is somewhere between the UK and the US, probably in a small steam powered boat chugging it's way across the Atlantic.  Hhrumph!

I think I’ll partake of one of those Scottish imports that must get old to be respectfully enjoyed.  A bit of single malt Scotch Whisky.  But, that’s for much later…

I am amazed.

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New Blood, Jettison of Shorts & Touchdown of Kilts.

One Style of Modern Utility Kilt

Unfortunately, Labs results yesterday told me I needed to be infused. The hemoglobin was down a full point - below the cut off point for my own safety. 

One unit was ordered and the port remained accessed for convenience. An appointment for blood was quickly set up for this morning at 9 am.

Nicole offered to do the honors, even if it is her day off. In return I promised a bit of winter shopping and a stop for lunch at the restaurant of her choice. She giggle and said she’d like nothing more than a burger on the beach if the weather was warmer and the winds weren’t so strong. We settled for something a little less uncomfortable - and indoors.

While I was somewhat disappointed in the outcome of the tests, the up side is that I went 2 weeks without requiring new blood. That and the fact that the platelets remain in high numbers as do the neutrophil count give me hope.   Slowly, but surely…

Patience, please! 

The infusion went well, though a little slower than usual, but I was still ready for lunch about 1 pm. And I was HUNGRY!!!  Enuf said.  

The afternoon flew by after lunch as Nicole and I traipsed around the area scouting out shopping venues for special items she wants to get her grandparents and friends. We had a good time and when we were finally done, I was pretty beat and ready for the drive home - and bed. 

I will be in bed in a few minutes and I’m sure she’ll be the same when she gets home shortly. She’s off the rest of the day, no new homework to contend with until Monday.  Her last class is tomorrow morning so I can assume she is in “chill” mode for the weekend.

Casual Tartans with sporrans.

Following 2 days of outings this week I am ready for shut-in mode, if for no other reason than to address the edema in the ankles and calves.  They are quite large after being on my feet for so long. The Kilt with soft loose cotton socks helps alleviate the itching and redness. I even bought a pair of those Eddie Bauer men’s thin lounging light-weight flannel pants, but they’re still too annoying on the front of the shins and calves.  

So, shorts or kilts are the items to remember for daily dress.  I’ve been receiving many compliments on the kilts this past week or two. So, I have a new attitude towards kilts vs. shorts.  Shorts big and baggie and not comfortable even after their washing and drying yesterday. But none of that is true with a kilt,  so as not to cause additional injury or more pain the kilt wins hands (pants!) down.

I’m totally hooked on kilts now. And…I don’t look half bad wearing one,

Similar Style to my old black one. I love it.

either. I am partial to the utility kilts due to their rugged design, heavy duty fabric, double stitching, and the over all comfortable feel. The "drop" is usually between 22" and 24" and depends on how you wear it at the waist. I'm pretty comfortable with either length, but am more used to the older 24" drop.

So, there you have it.

If you’d like more information on a small reputable company with great prices and the best shipping and customer service, just send me an email message and I’ll get the info off to you.  Or, if you’d like, I can post the info here and you can take it from there on your own. 

I am amazed.

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Throwback Thursday:Any Weekend 1970s

Old Friends:
For a small corps of us weekend meant busting out and heading for a museum, the Cloisters, Central Park concerts, or just roaming the Village hunting out new eating spots, or getting some sun. Pretty much the only time we wanted to leave the Village - because of tourists.

My oldest and dearest friend, Ted. Met in 1964 at the World's Fair became roommates in college, enjoyed each other's company.  Made each other laugh and knew more about one another than we ever cared to admit. Ultimately worked with Pan Am Airlines until they fell apart.  This caused an emotional meltdown from which he never recovered. He died in a group home in 1990.

Friends Sandy (slightly out of frame) and Bob taking a walk and getting some Spring sun on the Morton Street Pier following a Sunday Brunch at the Ramrod on West Street. The place where I had my first Rum Bloody - Bloody Mary made with dark rum instead of tasteless, cheap vodka. Great food, great friends with bikes, skates, and pretty people on the pier. Both are gone. Deaths are too gruesome to relate here.

These guys and those fun times are sorely missed, but remembered with great fondness.

An so it goes.
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Throwback Thursday: Rehoboth Beach

Rehoboth Beach Boardwalk, Spring/Summer of 1992. The year the first townhome was purchased as a summer rental and 3-season get-a-way.

Rehoboth: North Shores - Whiskey Beach, 1992. Mostly gay folks with and without kids. No tourists. Not crowded and before the era of cell phones - quiet. No snack bar so you brought your own and carried your refuse out of the park with you.

More later.
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Throwback Thursday

Weekend at Bear Mountain State Park, New York - 1976. 

Weekend on Bear Mountain in the Fall. Beautiful place. All other pics were of my Ex and have been thrown away. There is only this one of me.

And so it goes.

Debbie Reynolds to receive lifetime SAG award

Don’t know how I missed this news from the BBC, Singin’ in the Rain being my favorite musical of all time with An American in Paris coming in a close second. When I was 6 years old the reason for my love of the movie was certainly not Debbie.  No, it was Gene Kelly’s Ass!  Pure and simple. Yes, I most definitely was born this way!  But that’s a story for another time.

From BBC News:

Veteran screen star Debbie Reynolds is to be given a lifetime achievement award by the Screen Actors Guild (SAG), the organisation has announced. The 82-year-old, whose credits include Singin' In The Rain and TV sitcom Will and Grace, will receive her accolade at the SAG awards ceremony on 25 January. 

Reynolds, mother of Star Wars actress Carrie Fisher, has also headlined a show at her own casino in Las Vegas. The award is the highest honour bestowed by the actors guild. It is given out each year to an individual who represents "the highest ideals of the acting profession". 

SAG president Ken Howard called Reynolds, who has been in showbusiness for 66 years, "a tremendously talented performer with a diverse body of screen and stage work". "Her generous spirit and unforgettable performances have entertained audiences across the globe, moving us all from laughter to tears and back again," he added.
Reynolds kick-started her career at the age of 16 by winning the Miss Burbank competition, where she was spotted by film studio executives.She had apparently entered the contest with the hope of winning a blouse and a scarf. 

The performer went on to appear in more than 50 movies, making her official screen debut in 1950. She was nominated for an Oscar for her lead role in The Unsinkable Molly Brown, while her other notable roles included The Tender Trap and, later in her career, as Liberace's mother in Behind The Candelabra (2013). 

Reynolds also established a collection of Hollywood memorabilia containing hundreds of items, which was displayed at her Las Vegas hotel before being sold off to private collectors three years ago. 

Anticipating retirement in 1979, she also opened a facility in Hollywood where performers could rehearse in comfort, which has been used by Cher, Michael Jackson and Johnny Depp. But the performer continued working, stating in a 2011 interview that she intends to keep going until she "kicks it". 

Other figures who have received SAG's lifetime achievement honour over the years include Rita Moreno, who collected the award earlier this year, Shirley Temple, Elizabeth Taylor and James Cagney.

I am puzzled by something omitted from this story and that is, there is no mention of her Broadway musical “Irene” opening in 1973 where she had a three year run before the show went to London in 1976. An old friend was in that show and in the photo below. It is the original cast of Irene reunited for some reason. Friend Dennis is in the back row, second from the left. He's artistic director of his own theater company now. (As you can see, we share the same hairdo nowadays, too.)  I am so proud of him I could burst.

I've mentioned this before;  Dennis and I were born a few hours apart on the same day, same year, and until our mid-teens lived 10 houses away from one another in the same cul-de-sac, in New Orleans. 

And so it goes.

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Throwback Thursday: NYC

Westside Highway El and Hudson River - 1979-80 (Click any image to embiggen.)

This decorative art deco designed wall was actually the right side of an entrance ramp from West Street up to the elevated section of the old West Side Highway, just south of the  Village. These were narrow roadways. Vehicles entered from the left in the photo and were northbound as they entered the highway above. This is where my Raleigh and I would usually enter the otherwise closed roadway, ride north and get off at 57th Street. Or, ride back if I was only out for an afternoon ride.

The remains of the Christopher Street Pier. A great place for villagers to get some sun, cruise, and have lunch by the river. One may have been asked to share a sandwich with someone already there. No strings. The Hudson didn’t stink so much anymore in those days. Thanks to Pete Seeger and his Clearwater Project. The pier was torn down a short time later. Note: This seemed the perfect shot with that beautiful schooner heading up river just about dead center amidst destruction.

Don’t remember the name of this pier, but it mirrors the previous state of the Christopher St. Pier and most piers south of it.  It too, came tumbling down within a few months. As did all the others in the years that followed.

And yes, another picture on the EL with the grand view of the Hudson and the New Jersey docks.  Behind me, on my right, those green buildings were (if memory serves) the docks for the Hoboken Ferries that ran from Manhattan to Hoboken. They were run by the Port of Authority or PATH. I don’t think they were in operation at the time.

I loved my life back then, village life, great friends, good job - and tending bar part-time at a village bar - enjoying everything Gotham had to offer. I lived there at just the right time (for me) to take it all in. 

And so it goes.

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Just a Thought: Punishment

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Throwback Thursday: Pacific Coast

It was the 1970s. Don't remember which trip or where I was. Just know it was one of the many scenic overlook stops on the coastal highway.

I think these were shot the same day at two different spots off the highway.

Not sure if we're still in California or Oregon at this point. No matter. I was made to pose for this one.  I hate posing. I do remember that weather was picture perfect for the entire trip. Spent most time outdoors, even meals at restaurants with outdoor seating.  It was a charmed holiday.

And so it goes.
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And so it goes.
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Throwback Thursday: Pennsylvania

Washington's Crossing on the Delaware River and New Hope and the historic Delaware Canal.  With friends, Autumn 1977

Delaware River near Washington's Crossing. 

Delaware River Looking to Lambertville, NJ

With longtime friend, Ted.

Historic Delaware Canal Barge Tours

With friends, Harry & Ted on Lambertville-New Hope Bridge across the Delaware River.

Downstream look at the Historic Delaware Canal.

(Click here for more recent info on the historic canal.)

Harry and Ted were off work and it promised to be a glorious Autumn weekend. Harry, from Australia, had never seen much outside of NYC. We settled on this little outing and said, "Hello, Avis?" Car rentals were the quickest, easiest and least expensive transportation out of Gotham back then. We did it often.

We had breakfast at a cafe in New Hope then absorbing all the historic information we could, made a picnic in the woods near Washington's Crossing.

And so it goes.
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Remember.

Nine Years Ago.

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Of Kilt Pins, Festive Burgers, & Donated Clothing

I’ve been searching for a new kilt pin, since mine was taken by my Ex during the settlement years ago and only recently noticed. (Read previous posts to catch up.)  Anyway, I had no luck hunting one down locally, so I took to the Net to see what I could find. 

Don't strain. It is from USAkilts.com

I was on Chemo at the time, so the brain fog was ever present.  I had no trouble finding kilt pins, but most depicted swords, lions, and various reminders of wars, violent times in the Scottish/Irish past. I’m a non-violent person so swords were not going to do it for me.

I found few that were unique, including a round one that was stunning, but way too expensive for what I wanted to pay for a pin. There was this pewter one (pictured above) of a graceful, elongated Celtic design that caught my eye, so I bookmarked the page for later reference, otherwise in brain fog state, I’d never find it again. It’s a beautiful piece, really.

Fast-forward to the past week. I arrived home from treatment to find a package in the mailbox. It turned out to be this very pin, so I thought I had gone ahead and ordered it - just didn’t remember - and left it at that until 2 days later when I hunted for the invoice/packing slip to find out what credit card it was charged to. I discovered that it was a gift. I hadn’t purchased it after all.

This took a while to filter through the windswept void that is my brain anymore. It was a gift from a blog buddy and regular commenter, Calvin, who has given me permission to thank him publicly. Fortunately for me, his personal info was included on the invoice, so I sent an email thanking him properly.  What a happy surprise and coincidence that he liked the same pin. It will be worn proudly and the story behind it will be told many times over again. 

Thanks again, Calvin. The sun shines a little brighter thanks to your generosity and kindness.

Thank you to all who hoped that burger the other night would measure up to my expectations. It did. It was well worth waiting for.  Since I can’t have fresh veggies, I missed the lettuce, tomatoes, and onions, but it was almost perfect without them, anyway. As I said, "almost".

I usually buy 85%-15% lean beef (you need that little bit of fat) then add seasonings. Fresh minced parsley (Italian flat is better than curled), crushed garlic, onion powder, salt, black & white peppers, and Lea & Perrins. Knead it all by hand until everything is evenly distributed and mixed well, cover, refrigerate, and let it marinate at least a couple of hours. Form into patties, wrap tightly in plastic wrap then waxed paper and freeze.  All of course, except for the one to be consumed that evening. Heaven!

Summer heat and humidity have returned, so I’ve spent today getting another batch of clothing ready for the Thrift Store. Items are piled high all over the living room sofa and chair. I won’t put them into bags until I’m ready to deliver so there will be no - or limited - need for ironing. I can actually see the closet floor in some places, and when the sweaters are gone I’ll have plenty of room. I'm thinking bowling alley or Cinerama Theatre.

Tomorrow begins the last hoo-rah, the last gasp of the summer of 2014, and, unfortunately, I have to be out and in it.  Prescriptions are a damned nuisance any time, but having to pick them up on a holiday weekend is evil. Pure evil! I’ll be out of here as early as possible, get the scrips as soon as the pharmacists arrive, and back home ASAP.  Have I ever mentioned how much I hate drugs?  I hate drugs.

My Kilt pin however, is beautiful. I am definitely going to wear it to the Stoney Lonen party on Monday evening. 

And so it goes.

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Throwback Thursday: 300D

1979 - Decorated for Easter. 

One of the two favoritest, and bestest automobiles I ever owned. This one was a dream car. A Creamy 300D. Change the oil regularly and the things will run forever.  Hated selling it, but made sure it went to a good home. Probably still running today.

More later.
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New Life for the Orpheum Theatre

I was seven years old when I paid my first admission to the Orpheum Theatre. The beauty of the space took my breath away. I was fascinated by the luxurious velvets and silks; the ornate gold leaf trim around the proscenium and up to the ceiling surrounding the huge chandeliers.  It was a most impressive sight, for sure. (Click on any image to embiggen.)

I was there to see the re-issued Disney animated film, Fantasia (first released in 1940). I was with my sisters and a few neighborhood kids, as I recall.  Most

everyone in our little group became physically ill, some having to throw up, because of the animation.  Not me! I sat in that huge space and drank every bit of the film in. The theatre had a state-of-the-art sound system, too, and the film was presented in the original stereo format.  I was blown away - by the film and the theatre.

Four years later I was actually on the stage performing in a live radio broadcast of a locally produced show. (Television was coming soon.) It was during this visit for rehearsals and then broadcast, that I learned some of the history of the old place. It had been known as the RKO Orpheum from it’s early days as a vaudeville theatre, and the backstage areas still held the trappings of those years.  Dressing rooms with light bulb sockets surrounding the mirrors where makeup was applied.  Special passages and stage works were everywhere.  

With the best acoustics of any venue in the city, it became the home of the

Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra.  It was a first-run movie palace for years before the  disarray, disintegration of the downtown area. In later years, it hosted theatrical events and concerts before Katrina shut it down for the past decade.

But, the grande dame is getting a facelift, thanks to new owners with a vision, cash and imagination to see it happen. From NOLA.com:

The Orpheum Theater has played host to silence for nearly a decade. The 96-year-old space, shuttered since Hurricane Katrina, is the preferred venue of the Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra because of its pristine acoustics. Going back further in history, it was a stage for vaudeville, then a movie house.
The last time Roland von Kurnatowski remembers attending an event there was the 1960s. He was a kid going to see "PT 109," the biopic

High water mark from Katrina on exit doors.

about John F. Kennedy's World War II service in the South Pacific.
Fifty years later, a rolled-up movie screen still hangs above the stage, and von Kurnatowski is a new owner of the Orpheum, overseeing a $13 million year-long renovation of the theater.
Even in its state of disrepair, the majesty of the Orpheum persists.
"I can imagine what performing on that stage would feel like with your audience so close," von Kurnatowski said. "Something about it -- it really grabs your attention. It's a confirmation that this is a special

place, very deserving and worthy of the effort."
He and his wife, Mary von Kurnatowski, are perhaps best known as the owners of Tipitina's club and founders of Tipitina's Foundation, which supports music culture by supplying instruments and internships to young musicians. They bought the Orpheum for $1.5 million in February with business partner Dr. Eric George.
It was listed for sale last year for the third time since Katrina, after

years of failed promises from other developers to rejuvenate the performance hall.
Roland von Kurnatowski drove past the Orpheum a couple of days before Thanksgiving last year and saw the for-sale sign. He recognized the name of a friend, real estate broker Don Randon, and picked up the phone. Three days later, he had written an offer.
"I knew right away it was going to be all about bringing it back to what it was," said Mary von Kurnatowski.
The new owners hope to restore the history while creating a space for multiple uses, from the return of the Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra and other musical performances to movie premieres, private events and fundraisers.

The rest is HERE.

I had a similar experience when I was given a tour of the then-closed Beacon Theatre in NYC. That too, is a memory that will live with me forever. 

There are two things I dreamed of owning all my life; one was a theatre where I could show the films I wanted and stage the shows no one else would; and the second would be a radio station.

Having studied film at NYU, worked in theatre and radio since I was 10, I think I could have done some good and brought obscure movies the attention that I think they deserve. A radio station without a format would be a real dream come true for many people I know.  Every 3 or 4 hour segment would be devoted to a different genre jockeyed by an expert in that specific genre.  Where there was spill-over of genres, there could be open mike and call-ins. We had a similar (though much pared down) version of this at the last station I worked in NJ.  Ah, the roads I didn’t take….

Suddenly I have an ear worm. Let Sondheim take us from this nostalgic place.

One has regrets Which one forgets And as the years go on The road you didn’t take Hardly comes to mind Does it? 

The door you didn’t try Where could it have led? The choice you didn’t make Never was defined Was it?

No.  It wasn’t. Still, it does my heart good to see the old Orpheum brought back to life with a grand future ahead. Maybe I’ll get to see her once more in all her rejuvenated grandeur.  May it be so.

And so it goes.

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Throwback Thursday: London

Being cheeky!

Mardi Gras - 10 Years Apart

1950 Duke and Duchess of Windsor share a float in the Rex Mardi Gras Parade.

The Duke and Duchess (Wallis Simpson) at the Ball, being received at court by Rex, the King of Mardi Gras - 1950.

1960. A Duke in Costume for Krewe of Terpsichore. 

And a good laugh was had by all.  I wonder who this person could be?!?

And so it goes.
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Review: PSB - A Man From The Future

There are few reviews of this performance from last week. A couple I read were written by persons who have no idea who Alan Turing was, or who Pet Shop Boys are.  I found this one to be the most fulfilling, musically honest, and firmly grounded in the essence of the project. It's a 50 - 50 decision here, I think.  But she does know her stuff. The reviewer complains of not enough of Chris Lowe’s synth input in the piece. I’ll wait and see/hear for myself. The fact that the piece was celebrated at all is indicative of the Brit’s love of PSB musically.

I do hope this performance (on my birthday) was recorded for later release, but with PSB, that’s always very iffy, indeed. From The Guardian:

Nomenclature can get tricky when you think outside the box. What are we to call A Man From the Future, the Pet Shop Boys' tribute to mathematician Alan Turing, elegantly premiered last Wednesday at the Proms? A pop oratorio? A classical audiobiography? 

It is narrated by Juliet Stevenson, unkindly housed in a shonky-looking plywood box behind the orchestra. Her steely, authoritative tones remain purposely impassive, a judge passing harsh sentence on an era, even when they describe the death of the Bletchley Park code-breaker's first love from tuberculosis. A lonely bell clangs for this boy called Chris. Later, it clangs for Turing himself, as the piece in eight movements draws to an intense close. We pop heathens do know not to clap in between them. 

Turing died young of cyanide poisoning, an assumed suicide, after the innovative mathematician suffered chemical castration and lost his security clearance in the wake of a conviction for gross indecency. (Some do wonder whether his death was in fact suicide .)  

His tale works as an operatic tragedy and this piece is extensively sung: by the BBC Singers, augmented by Neil Tennant, who frequently refers to a score housed in a large red folder. They function like a Greek chorus, repeating Stevenson's words theatrically, picking out phrases to drum home. "Can you feel what I think? Do you feel what I feel?" they demand, teasing out the elements of Turing's outer and inner lives. The Enigma code-breaker imagined a "universal machine" that could compute, as far back as the war; boxes, now called computers, that could think outside the box. Turing's innermost feelings, of course, ran painfully counter to the law of the day, and the discussion of his gay leanings gets a breezy, almost swinging treatment, full of longing. 

Mainly, though, this tribute is lavishly orchestrated. The BBC Concert Orchestra, conducted by Dominic Wheeler, is doing the heavy lifting tonight. As the piece is often stirring or sad, the strings out-rank the brass and woodwind; I would have liked to hear more from the less strident corners of the ensemble. PSB synth jockey Chris Lowe is hidden at the very back beside some sound guys, identifiable only by a pair of fat red headphones and a baseball cap. Magnificently diffident, clad in shades and jeans, he comes down at the end and doesn't bow. 

Turing's story is deeply affecting, and the telling of it by an establishment organisation (the BBC, which runs the Proms) in an establishment venue (the Royal Albert Hall) in an establishment idiom (classical) is cause for celebration. We have come far since sodomy and treachery were felt to be synonymous by the state. (Or have we? Gay men who weren't Enigma code-breakers remain unpardoned.) 

But we really could have done with more from Lowe, and modernity more widely. Turing was, after all, a man from The Future. Even given the operatic nature of his tale and the rarefied Proms setting, wrapping this man up in strings seems a contradictory impulse. The very best passages here recall Giorgio by Moroder, a terrific electronic narrative from last year's Daft Punk album, such as when Lowe's vintage analogue sounds, laptop emissions and some unexpected beats (from a man hitting his cello, an excellent touch) penetrate the swell of the classical players.

The rest is HERE.

And so it goes.

*

Note: One of the two birthday gifts to arrive without the gifter’s name is a DVD recording of the Pet Shop Boys “Cubism” concert. A gift that I will be viewing this evening for the first time. The first of many more to come, I am sure.

Again, thank you, who ever you are.