Into The Woods - Trailer.

It's taken a long time to get this play to the screen.

Anticipation: Sondheim, Rob Marshall, Musical Score.

Apprehension: Disney Studios.

Unuf said.
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Ear-worms, Errands, & Early Winter

This is what I woke up humming this morning. I must say I could play this score all day and not tire of it.  The brilliant Michael Ball & Il Divo - what’s not to love?  Yes, in case you didn’t already know, I am an incurable romantic.  So shoot me!

Jeffrey picked me up early and we set out in the (suddenly) frigid cold weather.  What happened?  Yesterday it was in the 50s and today we’re shivering in the 28’ F range with 20 mph winds!  And…I cannot wear long trousers because of the leg rash. All my summer shorts are in the laundry Jeffrey was taking home to wash for me and the only sweats I have are way too big for me nowadays. Three of me could fit in them. Not a great look, if you get my drift.

So guess who wore a kilt again today? The more I wear them, the more I love them. I wore the Scottish Wool one - and yes, with underwear - along with a tee-shirt under a long sleeve sport shirt and covered all with a hoodie. When he picked me up, Jeffrey thought I was nuts since he was bundled like an Eskimo or a frozen Elf.  Take your pick.

With lists in hand, we were off!

I had sets of house keys made for Jeffrey and Nicole, so they can get in if I’m not up to opening the door, for any reason. I also shopped for a small electric space heater for the bathroom. There is no vent in there for the central heat and the thermostat died in the old heater that's 10 years old. Bought that, too.

With winter making its early debut, Jeffrey wanted to look for flannel sport shirts.  We stopped at Eddie Bauer, Bass, and Dickies.  Finally found one he liked, a handsome plaid and well made; I probably should have followed his lead, but thought I’ll hold off a bit and see how the money goes. 

Hit the pharmacy for a refilled script that has done wonders for an annoying dry cough I’ve had since the hospital. The cough is almost gone completely. Grocery shopping was next then we headed for a few hot coffees and breakfast.

Happily, the wool kilt kept my torso and lower body warm. Because of the strong winds the only thing to get cold (now stop with the evil minds!) was my nose. The old Twig & Berries were fine, thank you. The hoodie kept my head and ears toasty and the feet weren't bothered at all.

Walked in the door around noon to a strange “chirp” sound that Jeffrey recognized immediately.  I was clueless until we walked into the bedroom.  The chirp was emanating from the smoke alarm, (which I thought was electrical since I had never changed a battery in the years I’ve been here) so Jeffrey asked for a 9V battery and hunted down the battery location inside the device.  Thank the Goddess he was here because I  could not have climbed a ladder to search for the hidden pocket. 

It took him a few minutes of huffing and cursing, following wires, setting off the test alert a few times, to zero in on the exact location. Let’s just say the battery compartment is well hidden. The battery power is only used if the electrical power goes off and it functions silently. How would I have known of the battery’s existence?  I wouldn’t. But FIVE years? That's some long-lasting battery.

He grabbed the laundry bag, the last of the house plants, and the new set of keys.  Then he gave me a hug and headed for home.

After putting everything away, I got into bed and took a short nap. Woke up a while ago with leg and back pain, had a quick sandwich for supper and took a pain med. I am tired, so I think I’ll snuggle into bed and read a few hours until I fall asleep.

Another day of adventure and misadventures; and tomorrow begins with Labs at the Center. Not sure I can stand being out of the house two days in a row.

I am amazed.

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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.

*

R.I.P. Lauren Bacall

New York theater goers guffawed when word got out that Katharine Hepburn was to star in a broadway musical about Coco Chanel.  They roared when it was announced that Bacall was to star in a musical version of All About Eve. 

Applause was a hit and Bacall’s huge gay fan base flooded the theatre, seeing the show more than once.  I admit, I was one of those fans. It’s odd that this Obit doesn’t even mention Applause, which was a real triumph for her and spawned more than a few TV stars of the 70s.

Seeing her in person those few nights, working her ass off, was a thrill after seeing her for so many years on the big screen with Bogey. I was too young to have seen their films in first release, but the NYC art houses played them often, usually a double bill, and I was in film school, after all.

From HuffPo:

Hollywood icon Lauren Bacall, star of films such as "To Have and Have Not" and "Key Largo," died Tuesday at her home in New York City after suffering a stroke, according to reports.
She was 89.
The estate of her first husband, Humphrey Bogart, confirmed the news on Twitter.
Bacall's sultry appearance, smoky voice and provocative roles propelled her to fame, and would inspire generations of actresses. Her mastery of "The Look," a suggestive expression where she lowered her head and glanced up, has taken a place in Hollywood lore.
Bacall and Bogart met while filming 1944's "To Have And Have Not", the first of their four movies together. The couple married in 1945, had two children, and remained together until Bogart's death in 1957. Bacall would go without acting for almost 20 years after his death. (it was actually closer to 15 years.)
Born Betty Joan Perske on Sept. 16, 1924 in the Bronx, the actress had 72 film credits to her name. She began taking modeling and acting classes as a teen, and landed several walk-on roles in theater. A Harper's Bazaar editor hired her to model for the magazine, and she landed on the cover in 1943.
Bacall received her only Academy Award nomination for her supporting role in the 1996 film "The Mirror Has Two Faces," where she played Barbara Streisand's mother, but her list of accolades is indeed substantial. She won two Tony Awards for her stage performances and received the Cecil B. DeMille Award for Career Achievement from the Hollywood Foreign Press Association in 1992. In 1997, she received the Kennedy Center Honor, which the Los Angeles Times reports surprised her.
"Listen, I never went into this business thinking of winning anything," Bacall was quoted as saying. "I went into it because I loved it and I wanted to be good at it. It was a form of expression for me. I love to hide behind characters. So [any recognition] I get is a perk. It's just an extra. Just the fact that all that happened to me last year, it is -- well -- fabulous."
Bacall wrote two memoirs, including "Lauren Bacall: By Myself", which won a National Book Award in 1980.

Theses deaths usually come in 3’s - so who is next?

And so it goes.

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R.I. P. Elaine Stritch.

One of the very best has left us. I first saw her in Sail Away, then, of course, in Company (3 times!) She was everything and all that she put out there and her gay fans ate her up. Two friends attended her last 5 shows at the Carlisle, and said she did a different show each and every night. That takes guts and a certain rapport with your audience. As least I have “At Liberty” on DVD and can see her any time I wish.  But not tonight.  This is so sudden and so sad.

Variety:

Actress Elaine Stritch, star of Broadway hits including “Elaine Stritch at Liberty” and “Show Boat,” who was nominated for multiple Tonys and Emmys, winning three of the latter, has died. She was 89.

Stritch made her stage debut at New York’s New School in 1944. The actress understudied Ethel Merman for “Call Me Madam” while simultaneously appearing in the 1952 revival of “Pal Joey”; later she starred in the national tour of “Call Me Madam.”
Her professional relationship with Sondheim lasted decades. She made famous Sondheim’s sneeringly witty tune “The Ladies Who Lunch” in 1970’s “Company,” sang his enduring “I’m Still Here” in her 2002 solo show and performed in a 2010 revue of his tunes called “At Home at the Carlyle: Elaine Stritch Singin’ Sondheim…One Song at a Time.” The actress appeared in Garth Drabinsky’s smash hit “Show Boat” in 1994 and in Edward Albee’s play “A Delicate Balance” in 1996.
In 2010 Stritch replaced Angela Lansbury as Madame Armfeldt in “A Little Night Music” on Broadway.
The actress was profiled in the 2013 feature documentary “Elaine Stritch: Shoot Me” (photo above), directed by Chiemi Karasawa.

Read the rest HERE.

And so it goes.

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R.I.P. - Mickey Rooney

Very sad news, indeed.  Not something I wanted to read or hear about today.  

A legend, genius, and consummate hollywood star dead at 93. I think he was best paired with Judy Garland in all those MGM backyard films and the Busby Berkley Musicals.  At least that’s how I’ll remember him most.

Mickey Rooney, an award-winning actor and Hollywood legend who appeared in more than 300 films and TV programs, died on April 6, Variety reported. Cause of death was not released. He was 93.
Born Joe Yule Jr. in Brooklyn, N.Y., Rooney was only 17 months old when he took the stage in his parents' vaudeville act. After adopting the stage name of Mickey Rooney* at the age of 7, he appeared in his first film, launching a career that would span nearly his entire life.

* He was Mickey McGuire before changing his name to Rooney.

Rooney was still a teenager when he played Andy Hardy in the 1937 film "A Family Affair." The popular character, as played by Rooney, would appear in 14 more films and make him a top star at the box office. During Hollywood's golden years, the five-foot-three cherubic-faced actor worked with many of the silver screen's greatest leading ladies, including Elizabeth Taylor in "National Velvet," Judy Garland in "Thoroughbreds Don't Cry" and "Babes In Arms" and Audrey Hepburn in "Breakfast At Tiffany's."
Rooney was the first teenager to be nominated for an Oscar in a leading role and received a special juvenile Academy Award in 1938 after appearing in "Boys Town" with Spencer Tracy. He would earn four additional Oscar nominations for his work in "Babes In Arms," "The Human Comedy," "The Bold and the Brave" and "The Black Stallion," and receive an Academy Honorary Award "in recognition of his 50 years of versatility" in film. More recently, he appeared in "Night At The Museum" (2006) with Ben Stiller, and "The Muppets" (2011) starring Amy Adams and Jason Segel.
Rooney's work in television was no less lauded. He appeared in dozens of programs from 1954 to 2009, received two Golden Globe Awards and won an Emmy for his tender performance as a mentally challenged man in the 1981 TV movie "Bill."
According to USA Today, Laurence Olivier called Rooney "the greatest actor of them all."

There were many critics who thought that bringing Rooney and Ann Miller to Broadway in the musical "Sugar Babies" 25 years ago would be a disaster. Boy, how wrong could they be.  The musical was everything the late-70s weary New Yorker wanted (needed) to see.  Covered all the bases from vaudeville, slapstick, to dance and Burlesque.  It was a huge hit. Brings back fond memories, too.

You done good, Mick.  Thanks for everything.

And so it goes.

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Dream the Impossible Dream

Mitch Leigh, composer of Man of La Mancha has passed away. One cannot

imagine the speed with which the show and his score took the theatre world by storm in 1965.  Ultimately, I saw the show thrice at the ANTA, then once more when it moved to a Broadway house with new cast. I don't remember which one.

I am grateful to still remember times when it was OK to take chances on an un-tried, unique staging of a new play or musical, and grateful too, for the ear-worms Mitch Leigh's music has haunted me with over the years.

From the AP:
NEW YORK (AP) — Mitch Leigh, a successful advertising jingle writer whose debut attempt at writing music for a Broadway show became the instant, celebrated hit "Man of La Mancha" and earned him a Tony Award, has died. He was 86.
Leigh died Sunday in New York of pneumonia and complications from a stroke, said his assistant, Lisa Maldonado. A memorial was held Monday afternoon in Manhattan and Broadway marquees will dim in his honor for one minute at 7:45 a.m. Wednesday.
Leigh followed up his early theatrical success by producing and directing for the Broadway stage, including a 1985 production of "The King and I" with Yul Brynner in which he earned a best director Tony nomination, but never reached the dizzying heights he did with "Man of the Mancha" in 1965.
"Mitch Leigh was a multi-faceted talent whether he was composing, directing, or producing for Broadway or Madison Avenue," said Charlotte St. Martin, executive director of the Broadway League.
He also produced "The Gershwins' Fascinating Rhythm" in 1999, supplied the music for "Ain't Broadway Grand" in 1993, produced "Chu Chem," billed as the first Chinese-Jewish musical in 1989, and backed a 1983 revival of "Mame" with Angela Lansbury. 

Ah, the memories.  For my (19th) birthday in the summer of 1965,  friend, Robert surprised me with tickets to a new experimental off-broadway show titled "Man of La Mancha" being staged in an equally experimental acoustically designed theatre in the west village called the ANTA Washington Square.  The ANTA was built under the ground for the sound experiment and I think, became the prototype for either the State Theatre or Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center - I don't remember which one. Anyway, the NYU Library now sits atop of where the ANTA theatre once lived.

I was thrilled, too, because I would be seeing one of my favorite Broadway actors for the first time live on stage.  Richard Kiley! I fell in love with his voice when he starred a few years earlier in "No Strings" by Richard Rodgers.  He co-starred with Diahann Carroll in what became the first inter-racial musical about love and commitment, or lack thereof.  The show was moderate hit, and did win awards - Carroll won a Tony. And the lovely score features a few Rodgers tunes that I find myself humming or singing to this day.

And so it goes.

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Back Then…Thank You for the Music

I've had a lot of down time to listen to some of my favorite music over the past week and it's bringing back delicious memories, going back all the way to childhood. Here's a sampling of those who entertained me:

Mahalia Jackson & DeanMartin 

Marlene Dietrich & Edith Piaf

Count Basie & Frank Sinatra

Ethyl Merman & Jule Styne

Billie Holiday

Louis Armstrong, Sinatra, Peggy Lee, Bing Crosby

Gertrude Lawrence & Noel Coward

There are lots more that will be posted another time.  These are currently my musical best friends.

And so it goes.

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I Have The Blue Meanies

That's self-diagnosis…I'm Not Dead Yet!

Been keeping myself quiet and resting, or trying to, to hold the nausea at bay.  So far, so good. Not eating much, of course.  I took a duck leg out of the freezer, hoping that would spark me up and give me an appetite.  (Like I really feel like cooking!) We'll see.

I could use some cheering up from old friends, but they're all gone now. I'm reminded of that Sondheim song "Hey. Old Friend!" and wish I was rolling merrily along with those old friends. One hell of a lot better life than this.

Haven't been on FaceBook for a week and don't miss it. From social media it's become a commercial site for "friends" hawking their new book, or offering a new retirement plan - - to their "friends." Those friends were purged.

In my present condition I have nothing to add the conversation and I doubt if anyone has missed my personal posts.  

Old friends know your life and history. They know just about everything there is to know about you - as you know them.  We shared apartment keys and looked out for one another. The bonds were strong, non-judgemental, and unspoken. We may not always liked the criticism, but we knew where it was coming from and trusted the source. We just knew. Those comforts and connections are gone now.

"Blue Meanies" were popularized as villains in the animated film, "Yellow Submarine" but it was a phrase used by my friends way before the Beatles. It meant a funk, depression, or feeling trapped by circumstances.

I'm having an attack of the Blue Meanies and there's no one to call. Like Sondheim says: 

Most friends fade 

Or they don't make the grade 

New ones are quickly made 

And in a pinch, sure they'll do 

But us, old friend 

What's to discuss, old friend? 

Here's to us.   

Who's like us? 

Damn few!

Indeed.

And so it goes.

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I Was Raised by Stephen Sondheim. It's True

And this is how I know. A funny compilation of videos from Sondheim shows.  Although there is a video tribute in the story to the song below, I wanted to post the original singer (later at TV personality) Beth Howland, from the "Making Of" classic video of Company. The clip in the compilation features the wonderful Madeline Kahn, this one remains, I think, the very best.

Here's "22 Signs You Were Raised by Stephen Sondheim"

And here's "Not Getting Married Today" - 1970

And so it goes.

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Singing Show Tunes Helps Fend off Dementia, Alzheimer's Disease

Looks like there is hope for us elder-gay folks.  Maybe. But will this also make me gay?  Oh, never mind. Now, where did I park the car?  And, where are my keys?

From the Guardian: 

Belting out classic numbers from hit musicals can boost the brain function of people with Alzheimer's disease, according to researchers who worked with elderly residents at a US care home.
Over a four-month study, the mental performance of patients who took part in regular group singing sessions improved compared with others who just listened. 

In the sessions, patients were led through familiar songs from The Sound of Music, Oklahoma, The Wizard of Oz and Pinocchio.  The sessions appeared to have the most striking effect on people with moderate to severe dementia, with patients scoring higher on cognitive and drawing tests, and also on a satisfaction-with-life questionnaire at the end of the study. 

Jane Flinn, a neuroscientist at George Mason University in Virginia, said care homes that did not hold group singing sessions should consider them, because they were cheap, entertaining and beneficial for patients with Alzheimer's. 

"Even when people are in the fairly advanced stages of dementia, when it is so advanced they are in a secure ward, singing sessions were still helpful. The message is: don't give up on these people. You need to be doing things that engage them, and singing is cheap, easy and engaging," she said.Flinn's colleague Linda Maguire worked with the residents of a care home on the US east coast. Some
of the residents with moderate dementia were assigned to an assisted living group. Others, who had more severe 

Alzheimer's and were kept on a secure ward at the home, formed a second group. Both groups took part in three 50-minute group sessions a week for four months, but only half in each group joined in with the singing. The rest turned up, but only to listen. 

Maguire chose most of the songs to be familiar to the patients, and included classics such as The Sound of Music, When You Wish Upon a Star and Somewhere Over the Rainbow. 

Though memory loss and a decline in brain function are hallmarks of dementia, patients often demonstrate a striking ability to remember the lyrics and melodies of songs from their past. "A lot of people have grown up singing songs and for a long time the memories are still there," said Flinn. "When they start singing it can revive those memories."

Having spent many nights over many years singing show tunes at Marie's Crisis in the Village, I probably won't succumb to either of the above.  Yep, nothing like a little Julie Andrews, Jiminy Cricket, and July Garland's mellow crooning to get the old brain functioning again.  Ah, the memories.  No pun intended. 

The rest is HERE. 

More later.

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Uncle Frank Rich on Ancient Gay HIstory

The man in the image here is Clayton Coots and you'll read more about him in this powerful story by Frank
Rich in New York Magazine. Though published in May, I've saved it for Pride Month, so enjoy.

In a new century dominated by terrorism and recession, few would deny two big bright spots: the election of an African-American president and the expansion of gay civil rights. The first arrived nearly 150 years after the Civil War. The second happened with the speed of a fever dream. The modern gay-rights movement only got going in 1969, after the Stonewall riots. Now a dozen states have legalized same-sex marriage, a concept unknown in political discourse a mere quarter-century ago. More astounding is the likelihood that a conservative-leaning Supreme Court will expand those marital rights, however incompletely, next month—it took more than a century after the Emancipation Proclamation to end all bans on interracial marriage.
As we just learned, a man can still be murdered for being gay a few blocks away from the Stonewall Inn. But the rapidity of change has been stunning. The world only spins forward, as Tony Kushner wrote. And yet as we celebrate the forward velocity of gay rights, I think we must glance backward as well. History is being lost in this shuffle—that of those gay men and women who experienced little or none of today’s freedoms. Whatever the other distinctions between the struggles of black Americans and gay Americans for equality under the law—starting with the overarching horror of slavery—one difference is intrinsic. Black people couldn't (for the most part) hide their identity in an America that treated them cruelly. Gay people could hide and, out of self-protection, often did. That’s why their stories were cloaked in silence and are at risk of being forgotten.
This history is not ancient. My own concern about its preservation comes not from some abstract sense of social justice but from my personal experience. I grew up in the Washington, D.C., of the sixties, where the impact of racism was visible everywhere, front and center in my political education. But gays—what gays? No one I knew ever saw them or mentioned them. Not until the eighties—when, like many Americans of that time, I was finally forced by the rampaging AIDS crisis to think seriously about gay people—did I fully recognize that a gay man had been my surrogate parent in high school, when I needed one most. Not that I ever thought to thank him for it.
For younger Americans, straight and gay, the old amnesia gene, the most durable in our national DNA, has already kicked in. Larry Kramer was driven to hand out flyers at the 2011 revival of The Normal Heart, his 1986 play about the AIDS epidemic, to remind theatergoers that everything onstage actually happened. Similar handbills may soon be required for The Laramie Project, the play about the 1998 murder of the gay college student Matthew Shepard. A new Broadway drama, The Nance, excavates an even older chapter in this chronicle: Nathan Lane plays a gay burlesque comic of 1937 who is hounded and imprisoned by Fiorello La Guardia’s vice cops. Douglas Carter Beane, its 53-year-old gay author, is flabbergasted by how many young gay theatergoers have no idea “it was ever that way.”
Clayton Coots, the gay man who changed my life, fell somewhere between The Nance and The Normal Heart on this time line. He was one of countless gay people who were hiding back then, sometimes in plain sight, from their friends, neighbors, relatives, students, and colleagues. In historical terms, back then was only yesterday. Yet much as we might want to reclaim these invisible men and women from the shadows, they continue to slip away. It’s one thing to retrieve the story of a gay American from the pre-AIDS era who was famous or notorious. It’s quite another to track down a closeted gay American of no renown who lived shortly before the gay-rights revolution took hold. I have spent more than twenty years off and on trying to piece together Clayton’s life. Even in death he is still in hiding.

The story continues HERE. Trust me, it is a "must read" for all.

And so it goes.
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R. I. P. Jean Stapleton

A great, talented lady.

Jean Stapleton, who played Archie Bunker's wife Edith in the TV series "All in the Family," died yesterday (May 31) in New York. She was 90.

According to the Chicago Tribune,Stapleton's family announced she had died of natural causes.

Stapleton won three Emmys for her work on "All in the Family," reports TMZ. She was nominated for two additional Emmy awards, adds The Hollywood Reporter, for portraying Eleanor Roosevelt in the 1982 CBS telefilm "Eleanor, First Lady of the World," and as Aunt Vivian on the ABC series "Grace Under Fire." Stapleton was last seen on screen in the 1998 movie "You've Got Mail" (as Meg Ryan's co-worker).

Stapleton is survived by her children -- TV producer Pamela Putch and film and TV director John Putch, notes the L.A. Times.

Most people know her as her character noted above (which was a very good role for her). Jean was a Broadway staple (no pun intended) from the 1950s through the 1980s:

Damn Yankees with Gwen Verdon
Bells Are Ringing with Judy Holliday
Juno with Shirley Booth
Funny Girl with Barbra Streisand

And so much more.  I always loved watching her work.  She was so good.

And so it goes.

*

Elaine Stritch: End of An Era

I first became aware of and fell in love with Elaine Stritch when she starred in Noel Coward's "Sail Away" -
a short lived Broadway musical.  I had the pleasure to see her in Company (three times!), once with Dean Jones - the original Bobby - and twice with the darling Larry Kert.

She's 88 years old now and ready to return to Michigan, which she left in 1942. This is a candid look at one of the brightest, toughest, and most gifted stars who has vast cache of back stage stories from the 1940s through 2000+. And each time she shares one there seems to another new one to tell. This is a sort of review/homage to Strritchy (as Coward called her) in the New Yorker.  Here's a little tease:

On Friday evening at the Café Carlyle, before the second-to-last performance of “Elaine Stritch at the Carlyle: Movin’ Over and Out,” Stritch’s farewell show, the crowd was settling in, ordering steak and lobster and Manhattans. The room was packed with theatricality: a woman with a crown of white-blond hair and a high lacy collar and the bearing of Snow White’s stepmother; men in fashionable suits, some with dramatic hair; a woman with a fascinator made of red feathers; Mandy Patinkin, bearded and serious; Michael Riedel, the Post critic, seated in the shadows to one side of the stage.
When the lights went down, Stritch’s accompanist, Rob Bowman, explained what to expect. “This is a very different kind of night,” he said. Stritch, everyone knew, was moving out of the Carlyle Hotel, where she’s lived for the past several years, and out of New York, and going home to Michigan, which she left in 1942. At eighty-eight, she felt it was time; she’s diabetic, and has memory problems, and had a hip replacement, and eye trouble. But her Stritchiness, by God, is still here. Bowman explained that this wasn’t a typical well-rehearsed cabaret show—the Times had tactfully made that clear in its Wednesday review, as if patrons had come for a night of showstoppers, and left confused. “Elaine was asked to do a little something for you all before she leaves for Michigan later in the month. She wants to say hello, goodbye, and everything in between. She wants to come and have a visit. Ladies and Gentlemen, let’s have a visit with Elaine Stritch!”
To wild applause, cheering, and a “Brava!” Stritch, cane in hand, made her way toward the stage as if determinedly fording a stream. She clambered onstage, yelling something feisty; people laughed. In the spotlight, she turned toward the applause. She was wearing her signature outfit: a long white man’s dress shirt, a black vest, black tights, nothing resembling pants. Her shirt buttons were shiny, like diamonds. She bowed, waved, clasped her hands together like a woman in love.
“Isn’t this fantastic, what a star I am?” she yelled. The Carlyle went wild. “I mention I’m going home, and I’m a star immediately! This used to happen with my boyfriends—as soon I’d say ‘I gotta go home now’ they fell in love.” Laugh. “Hard to get. What is it about that? And the newspaper does a picture of you with Tom Hanks, and you’re overnight a star.” The Times piece had featured a picture of Stritch and Hanks greeting each other after the Tuesday show, and another that showed her smiling at tables that included Liza Minnelli, Tony Bennett, and Bernadette Peters. “I went through so many emotions tonight that I’m a wreck,” she said, her voice breaking. The audience cried out in sympathy.
“I am, I’m a wreck! I’ve been up in that room, and I said, you know? Being a Catholic, I always give myself a problem. Sacred Heart Convent girls always give up something. Their prime time is Lent. The harder your life is, oh boy, you’re really making it.” She did a little riff about Catholicism and self-denial and guilt. “We used to go to downtown Detroit and get so drunk on Easter Saturday afternoon. And then you’d go to the cathedral and we’d say, Oh, I did it, I made a total fool out of myself, that’s what I did.”
A man ordered a glass of wine, too loudly. “Who’s talking while I’m telling these jewels? It’s just selfish!” Applause. “There’s something about it that makes sense, Lent. You give something up and everything’s more joyful.” She told more of the Catholicism story, her mood hovering between elegiac and saucy. “We haven’t even done the opening yet. That’s how casual this show is. Should we do the opening?”
“Yes!” the crowd said happily.
Read more: http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/culture/2013/04/elaine-stritchs-long-goodbye.html#ixzz2Q3yuKg4X

Go and read the rest.  You won't be disappointed.  I promise.

And so it goes.
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Barbara Cook Was On My Gay Agenda Tonight

 If this number doesn't lift your spirits after a bad day you may want to crawl into a hole and die.

I saw her introduce this at Carnegie Hall when she made her come back. I was in the front row, center and I had quite a few out-of-body experiences that night.

She is one of a kind and certainly made this day end on a high note. Oh, that marvelous voice.

And so it goes.
*

I Need a Little Christmas (spirit)

Christmas is a week away and I just ain't got no Merry Ho-Ho in me. I even found a channel on Sirius XM playing the golden oldies of holiday music, called Holiday Traditions and thought it might help. It didn't.  The customers love it while the multicultural staff are singing the lyrics.  I am, too, but only out of nostalgia for selfish reasons.  Sinatra, Fitzgerald, Armstrong, Crosby, Clooney, Torme, Garland, and others are the holiday soundtrack of my life.

Of course, the Newtown, CT massacre did nothing to lift anyone's spirits

Aside from a little cooking, and doing household chores, it's been a relaxing day off.  Gray and foggy outdoors made for an easy decision not to venture forth into the crazy. The errands can wait until tomorrow when the sun is to make an appearance.

Linda, our wee Irish lass GM, left for Ireland last evening, but beforehand, she dropped off a wee gift that waited on the porch until I got home.  A nice gesture and lovely surprise.  A bottle of Jameson's Irish Whiskey, no less.  Now that's good sippin' whiskey and no doubt about it. 

I was able to reach her before boarding her flight and thanked her. She said, "enjoy, don't be so hard on yourself. I'll see you on the 28th." I am fortunate to call her a friend, as well as boss.

Without the space - or accurate oven - I will not be doing any holiday baking again this year. There will be eggnog however, with a bit of rum or whiskey mixed in for some seasonal cheer. I will spend Christmas day at home alone. Don't want to be the wet blanket (or crazy quilt) on anyone's festivities.

Oh, I am fine and happy at work, and even spent money on a new Santa hat this year to wear this weekend and Christmas Eve. I'll be sincerely happy to see happy faces of kids and families dining with us. That always makes my day.

There are 13 days before the new year, and I find that hard to believe, but there it is.

And so it goes.
*

Old Friends - Like Bookends

There is no holiday spirit, and certainly no Christmas spirit in me this year.

Daily visuals of the elderly in our midst draw me in as never before and I wonder what will become of me when/if I reach that dottering stage.  I watch as these people walk, hardly able to put one foot ahead of the other and wonder if that is to be my fate, as well. The Simon & Garfunkel song, "Old Friends" from their "Bookends" album, touches me more deeply these days.

Old friends, old friends sat on their parkbench like bookends
A newspaper blowin' through the grass
Falls on the round toes of the high shoes of the old friends

Old friends, winter companions, the old men
Lost in their overcoats, waiting for the sun
The sounds of the city sifting through trees
Settles like dust on the shoulders of the old friends

Can you imagine us years from today, sharing a parkbench quietly
How terribly strange to be seventy

Old friends, memory brushes the same years, silently sharing the same fears.

Time it was and what a time it was, it was A time of innocence, a time of confidences Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph. Preserve your memories, they're all that's left you.

I'd prefer this scenario from Merrily We Roll Along by Mr. Sondheim:

Old Friends

Hey, old friends,
How do we stay old friends?
Who is to say, old friends,
How an old friendship survives?
One day chums
Having a laugh a minute,
One day comes
And they're a part of your lives.

New friends pour
Through the revolving door-
Maybe there's one that's more.
If you find one, that'll do.
But us, old friends,
What's to discuss, old friends?
Here's to us!
Who's like us?
Two old friends,
Fewer won't do, old friends-
Gotta have two old friends
Helping you balance along:
One upbraids you
For your faults and fancies,
One persuades you
That the other one's wrong.

Most friends fade
Or they don't make the grade.
New ones are quickly made,
Perfect as long as they're new.
But us, old friends,
What's to discuss, old friends?
Here's to us!
Who's like us?
Damn few!

No photographs. No family will be around to care for, or about me. And no "old friends" left to share the "new" or that park bench. The restaurant staff holiday party is tomorrow evening. I wonder if I will have the energy to attend.

And so it goes.
*

Les Miserables: Old is New Again

In most movie musicals the songs are recorded in advance of shooting - in the studio with part of or most of the intended orchestra.  Not this time. To me this is a fascinating look into the future of film using the best technologies and vocal talents singing live while acting out the scene. Of course, this will put the likes of Marni Nixon out work.

As the saying goes, "movies were never silent, there was always live music on set to create and maintain the mood of the scene."  This takes that concept one step farther down the road and I think (especially considering the difficult material) the way musicals will (hopefully) be shot in the future.

I REALLY want to see this one.

And so it goes.
*

R.I.P Hal David, Songwriter, Dies At 91

Great talents seem to be dropping like flies. His lyrics (with Bacharach's music) were a big part of my life soundtrack.

LOS ANGELES — Hal David, whose simple, heartfelt lyrics made a perfect fit with Burt Bacharach's quirky melodies and resulted in dozens of hit songs, including "Do You Know the Way to San Jose" and "Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head," died Saturday. He was 91.
David died of complications from a stroke Saturday morning at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles, according to his wife Eunice David.
He had suffered a major stroke in March and was stricken again on Tuesday, she said.
"Even at the end, Hal always had a song in his head," Eunice David said. "He was always writing notes, or asking me to take a note down, so he wouldn't forget a lyric."
David and Bacharach won an Oscar for "Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head" (from the movie "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid"), Grammys and Tonys for the songs from the hit Broadway musical "Promises, Promises," as well as other top 40 hits including "Close to You" and "That's What Friends Are For."
Many of the duo's lyrics and tunes continue to resonate in pop culture, including "I Say A Little Prayer, " "What The World Needs Now Is Love," and "This Guy's in Love with You," Their music was recorded by legendary singers including The Beatles, Barbra Streisand, Frank Sinatra, Neil Diamond and their longtime partner Dionne Warwick.
"As a lyric writer, Hal was simple, concise and poetic – conveying volumes of meaning in fewest possible words and always in service to the music," ASCAP's current president, the songwriter Paul Williams, said in a statement. "It is no wonder that so many of his lyrics have become part of our everyday vocabulary and his songs... the backdrop of our lives."

At least we'll always have the songs.

I love that the image above was drawn by Al Hirschfeld for the NYT and contains "3 Ninas" - click to embiggen to see if you can find them.

And so it goes.
*

"One Term More" - Broadway Calls the GOP BS

This is magnificent and not connected to any campaign or party. If you know Les Miz you'll recognize the music.  The important thing here is the lyrics.  They are creative, insightful, and mostly on the money.  The vocal talent is, well, Broadway quality.  Enjoy.

And so it goes.
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