February 2008 Archives
I'm just here to report the facts:
This afternoon, around 2:15 PM, as I turned north onto the 3rd Street Promenade from Broadway to Santa Monica Blvd, I noticed a bit of a commotion and turned to see a naked woman walking up the promenade in the same direction as me.
I would say that she was of the punk goth variety, complete with short bob haircut, tattoos of angels' wings on her back and a compact toned body. Not that I noticed.
This was clearly a stunt of some kind, perhaps for a posting on Suicide Girls or some such site, as she was not just walking, or hurrying, or window shopping, but parading, In front of her as she gallivanted up the promenade were both a still and a video camera person, and she seemed to occasionally stop and preen for both.
Now having said all this, I will say that the image of a naked woman walking up the 3rd Street promenade had a certain shock value. As she made her way up the street you could see a succession of surprised people, coming out of the stores and continuing on their way, saying Did you see that? But, in truth the novelty passed pretty fast.
Just another afternoon on the promenade in Santa Monica.
This afternoon, around 2:15 PM, as I turned north onto the 3rd Street Promenade from Broadway to Santa Monica Blvd, I noticed a bit of a commotion and turned to see a naked woman walking up the promenade in the same direction as me.
I would say that she was of the punk goth variety, complete with short bob haircut, tattoos of angels' wings on her back and a compact toned body. Not that I noticed.
This was clearly a stunt of some kind, perhaps for a posting on Suicide Girls or some such site, as she was not just walking, or hurrying, or window shopping, but parading, In front of her as she gallivanted up the promenade were both a still and a video camera person, and she seemed to occasionally stop and preen for both.
Now having said all this, I will say that the image of a naked woman walking up the 3rd Street promenade had a certain shock value. As she made her way up the street you could see a succession of surprised people, coming out of the stores and continuing on their way, saying Did you see that? But, in truth the novelty passed pretty fast.
Just another afternoon on the promenade in Santa Monica.
Buckley, the host of "Firing Line," the founder of "The National Review" magazine, the author of countless columns and more than 50 books -- and the godfather of modern conservatism, has died. I can't say that I liked his magazine, TV show, or most of what he wrote -- but that doesn't mean that I didn't admire him.
Around January most years, I pledge myself again to the task of clearing out the clutter, to going through the garage, working my way through my study -- and each year I manage to clear out a couple of boxes before the task comes grindingly to a halt supplanted by other more pressing chores, obligations and assignments.
This year while working my way through some boxes that were more than ten years old, I came across a letter from William F. Buckley that I didn't recall owning.
The letter was a simple thank you. In the vaguest of terms Buckley wrote that he often received letters, that he couldn't reply to all of them, but that he just wanted to send me a thank you for mine.
& Then I recalled. I had written Buckley when his article that would become the basis for "In Search of Anti-Semitism" appeared. I had applauded him for publicly exposing Pat Buchanan's views, many of which I had come across in the process of researching Buchanan's many pronouncements in defense of the former Nazi Camp Guard John Demjanjuk.
Early in his career Buckley spoke out about the racism of the John Birch Society. And when he came to assess the writings of his National Review colleague Joe Sobran, comments made by Gore Vidal, and the writings of Pat Buchanan, Buckley found them Anti-Semitic. Buckley's public opinion allowed others, such as William Safire, to speak out.
I also recall Buckley explaining what he called "the dirty secret" of his professional life: that the columns he wrote and TV show he hosted were just advertising for his speaking gigs which is where he actually made money (Buckley gave around 70 speeches a year). The bad news of speaking so much, he said, was that he was forced to be away from home a great deal; but the good news was that it was on the plane that he wrote his novels.
Buckley was also one of the last great New York patricians. Like the late George Plimpton, and the late Norman Mailer, he was a literary fixture of the city -- a player -- of an intellectual variety which now seems all the more rare.
Around January most years, I pledge myself again to the task of clearing out the clutter, to going through the garage, working my way through my study -- and each year I manage to clear out a couple of boxes before the task comes grindingly to a halt supplanted by other more pressing chores, obligations and assignments.
This year while working my way through some boxes that were more than ten years old, I came across a letter from William F. Buckley that I didn't recall owning.
The letter was a simple thank you. In the vaguest of terms Buckley wrote that he often received letters, that he couldn't reply to all of them, but that he just wanted to send me a thank you for mine.
& Then I recalled. I had written Buckley when his article that would become the basis for "In Search of Anti-Semitism" appeared. I had applauded him for publicly exposing Pat Buchanan's views, many of which I had come across in the process of researching Buchanan's many pronouncements in defense of the former Nazi Camp Guard John Demjanjuk.
Early in his career Buckley spoke out about the racism of the John Birch Society. And when he came to assess the writings of his National Review colleague Joe Sobran, comments made by Gore Vidal, and the writings of Pat Buchanan, Buckley found them Anti-Semitic. Buckley's public opinion allowed others, such as William Safire, to speak out.
I also recall Buckley explaining what he called "the dirty secret" of his professional life: that the columns he wrote and TV show he hosted were just advertising for his speaking gigs which is where he actually made money (Buckley gave around 70 speeches a year). The bad news of speaking so much, he said, was that he was forced to be away from home a great deal; but the good news was that it was on the plane that he wrote his novels.
Buckley was also one of the last great New York patricians. Like the late George Plimpton, and the late Norman Mailer, he was a literary fixture of the city -- a player -- of an intellectual variety which now seems all the more rare.
The New York Times put Leno on its front page, asking whither Leno after his deal expires with NBC in 2009? ABC, FOX, and Sony are each wooing him to the extent that they are legally able. One thing's for sure, if he goes to ABC, they will offer him hosting the Oscars as part of the package -- if they haven't already.
DOES LENO MAKE MORE THAN LETTERMAN?
Every article on Leno always mention that he is paid less than Letterman -- according to The Times, at this time Leno earns about $25 Million a year and Letterman around $30 Million (which may seem like a lot until you read that the tonight show earns $100 Million a year for NBC).
However, one interesting fact hidden in today's New York Times article about Leno includes that fact that he uses an attorney and has no agent or manager. Letterman was at one time, famously, repped by Ovitz and CAA. So the question becomes:Who takes home more? Does Letterman after his agent/manager/lawyer actually earn less than Leno? Maybe that's another reason you never hear Leno insisting on earning more than Letterman? Brings to mind that old adage: it's not what you make, it's what you keep.
DOES LENO MAKE MORE THAN LETTERMAN?
Every article on Leno always mention that he is paid less than Letterman -- according to The Times, at this time Leno earns about $25 Million a year and Letterman around $30 Million (which may seem like a lot until you read that the tonight show earns $100 Million a year for NBC).
However, one interesting fact hidden in today's New York Times article about Leno includes that fact that he uses an attorney and has no agent or manager. Letterman was at one time, famously, repped by Ovitz and CAA. So the question becomes:Who takes home more? Does Letterman after his agent/manager/lawyer actually earn less than Leno? Maybe that's another reason you never hear Leno insisting on earning more than Letterman? Brings to mind that old adage: it's not what you make, it's what you keep.
As I mentioned in my current column, I have been trying to catch up on the stack of last year's books that I should have and wanted to read but just never got around to.
As past of that syllabus, I recently embarked on Philip Roth's Exit Ghost.
I was reading along, enjoying the book, impressed as always by Roth's observations and abilities to narrate them, when I came across this paragraph, spoken by the character Amy Bellette.
As past of that syllabus, I recently embarked on Philip Roth's Exit Ghost.
I was reading along, enjoying the book, impressed as always by Roth's observations and abilities to narrate them, when I came across this paragraph, spoken by the character Amy Bellette.
"...When Primo Levi Killed himself everyone said it was because of his having been an inmate of Auschwitz. I thought it was because of his writing about Auschwitz, the labor of the last book, contemplating that horror with all that clarity. Getting up every morning to write that book would have killed anyone."I was stunned because Roth had once said that to me. Not that I was the only one he said it to -- I'm sure it was an opinion that he tried out on several people. But I'm not sure if I have ever been party to a conversation that I then read in the mouth of a character. It is worth noting that Roth chose not the Philip Roth character (his alter ego Zuckerman) but another, to say it.
She was speaking of Levi's The Drowned and the Saved. "
And here's the strange thing. When Roth said it, it had impressed me, and stayed with me. So much so that I had worked it in to something I was writing.
In my piece (unpublished fiction) the lead character says the following:
Perhaps I should now change it to "Philip Roth once said......"“The Drowned and the Saved,” Levi’s last book is possibly the best – the truest book ever written about the Holocaust.” Fischer said. “One writer said that he understood why Levi killed himself: after writing such a book, there was nothing left to say.”
This is all the more ironic, and all the more interesting because "Exit Ghost" concerns itself with separating what a writer uses from real life, from how he uses and what it becomes in fiction.
THE OSCARS
Here's the strange thing: There's not much to say about the Oscars.
Jon Stewart handled himself well, more confident than last year and he had a few good jokes, but there were no home runs.
It was clear that as part of their "plan B" in case they had a show without writers, they made all those video packages -- but using them and including all the musical numbers, just made for a plodding show.
The audience held no surprises either. At this point, one has to wonder: does Jack Nicholson even know whether he's at a Lakers game or at an awards show? --it seems all the same to him.
To give Jon Stewart credit he did one great, gracious and memorable thing -- inviting the girl from "once" back onstage to deliver her acceptance speech, after the show producers cut her off. All in all a muted Oscars.
THE WAY OF THE BLOGGER
Today's New York Times Business section had an interesting feature about Talking Points Memo -- which gives us independent journalists a business model to aspire to - he has ads, sponsors and he has asked for donations from his readers to finance specific investigative ventures -- watch out! Tommywood could be next.
CLOSING TIME FOR DUTTON'S BOOKSTORE
This morning, Susan Freudenheim, my editor at the Jewish Journal forwarded me the release that Dutton's Bookstore of Brentwood is closing.
Dutton's was the West Side of LA's great independent bookstore -- when I first arrived in LA it reminded me of great independent bookstores in NY -- such as Books & Co, the Madison Bookstore, Cantebury Books, and Shakespeare Co., -- but they are all gone too. I seem to recall that I had a book party at Dutton's before we even moved here --- Which book? I'm not sure. Can I even find a copy of the invitation? I need to dive in to my archives for that. The fragments drop through the cracks......
Anyhow, Susan asked me if I wanted to write a column about Dutton's closing and I probably will.
.
Here's the strange thing: There's not much to say about the Oscars.
Jon Stewart handled himself well, more confident than last year and he had a few good jokes, but there were no home runs.
It was clear that as part of their "plan B" in case they had a show without writers, they made all those video packages -- but using them and including all the musical numbers, just made for a plodding show.
The audience held no surprises either. At this point, one has to wonder: does Jack Nicholson even know whether he's at a Lakers game or at an awards show? --it seems all the same to him.
To give Jon Stewart credit he did one great, gracious and memorable thing -- inviting the girl from "once" back onstage to deliver her acceptance speech, after the show producers cut her off. All in all a muted Oscars.
THE WAY OF THE BLOGGER
Today's New York Times Business section had an interesting feature about Talking Points Memo -- which gives us independent journalists a business model to aspire to - he has ads, sponsors and he has asked for donations from his readers to finance specific investigative ventures -- watch out! Tommywood could be next.
CLOSING TIME FOR DUTTON'S BOOKSTORE
This morning, Susan Freudenheim, my editor at the Jewish Journal forwarded me the release that Dutton's Bookstore of Brentwood is closing.
Dutton's was the West Side of LA's great independent bookstore -- when I first arrived in LA it reminded me of great independent bookstores in NY -- such as Books & Co, the Madison Bookstore, Cantebury Books, and Shakespeare Co., -- but they are all gone too. I seem to recall that I had a book party at Dutton's before we even moved here --- Which book? I'm not sure. Can I even find a copy of the invitation? I need to dive in to my archives for that. The fragments drop through the cracks......
Anyhow, Susan asked me if I wanted to write a column about Dutton's closing and I probably will.
.
Last Friday, my daughter had the day off from school, and I had an errand to run in Hollywood (I needed to pick up a new press pass from the LA Press Club), so she came with me, lured by the promise of some Hollywood sight-seeing.
We had a specific mission: my daughter wanted to see John Wayne's hand/boot prints at Grauman's Chinese Theater.
John Wayne? You might wonder why she would even know his name.
Give up?
Here's the answer: There is an episode of "I love Lucy" in which Lucy, visiting California somehow manages to break the block of cement that has John Wayne's impressions, and then has to find a way to trick him into making a new one. I had told her that she could probably see the original in Hollywood. Since then she's been slightly obsessed by the idea of seeing all these hand and foot prints.
So on a clear Friday afternoon, we pulled into the parking lot of Hollywood and Highland. We emerged into the mall, and found ourselves with a great view of the Hollywood sign.
Our first stop, at my daughter's request, was the Guinness Book of Records Museum. At the box office, the upsell begins immediately with a combo ticket offer to the Hollywood Wax Museum. My daughter being a wax museum aficionado, she insisted.
The Guiness Museum has a lot of info to offer, but if you are not interested in reading, the display is rather lame --and throughout the exhibit there are all sorts of machines asking you to pump change into them for various souvenirs. We ran through there pretty quickly.
On to the Wax Museum across the street, which my daughter adjudged to be lacking the artistry of Madame Tussaud's in Vegas -- the wax itself seemed less good, and the replicants lacked in verisimilitude (there's a word I've been wanting to use!). There also seemed to be a lot of emphasis on stars of yesteryear, even on TV shows of yesteryear. My daughter, despite having had little interest in the exhibits, still thought it was fun. That is the gift of being her age -- discernment does not lessen pleasure. Not yet.
We walked back to Grauman's and like the other other tourists gawked at the names of the stars on the sidewalk, and the differentiators between Tv, music, film and radio stars. My daughter wondered if Miley Cyrus and the Jonas Brothers had done theirs yet.
The Grauman's handprints did not disappoint. We found John Wayne's and we got into a nice conversation with some visitors from Australia about the stars of their youth.....We found the Marx Brothers and my daughter was delighted to point out that Harpo had signed by drawing a harp with an "o" next to it.
Our good luck was to be thirsty in Grauman's plaza where in return for a $2 soft drink purchase we received the all important parking validation allowing us only pay $3.00 for parking. A coup to be sure!
There was only one way to cap our tourist expedition -- and that was with lunch at Carney's, the train car, located on the Sunset Strip, where my daughter enjoyed a hamburger and I the Carney's dog.
For an afternoon we were tourists in our own town. There are worse ways to spend a few hours (trust me I know).
We had a specific mission: my daughter wanted to see John Wayne's hand/boot prints at Grauman's Chinese Theater.
John Wayne? You might wonder why she would even know his name.
Give up?
Here's the answer: There is an episode of "I love Lucy" in which Lucy, visiting California somehow manages to break the block of cement that has John Wayne's impressions, and then has to find a way to trick him into making a new one. I had told her that she could probably see the original in Hollywood. Since then she's been slightly obsessed by the idea of seeing all these hand and foot prints.
So on a clear Friday afternoon, we pulled into the parking lot of Hollywood and Highland. We emerged into the mall, and found ourselves with a great view of the Hollywood sign.
Our first stop, at my daughter's request, was the Guinness Book of Records Museum. At the box office, the upsell begins immediately with a combo ticket offer to the Hollywood Wax Museum. My daughter being a wax museum aficionado, she insisted.
The Guiness Museum has a lot of info to offer, but if you are not interested in reading, the display is rather lame --and throughout the exhibit there are all sorts of machines asking you to pump change into them for various souvenirs. We ran through there pretty quickly.
On to the Wax Museum across the street, which my daughter adjudged to be lacking the artistry of Madame Tussaud's in Vegas -- the wax itself seemed less good, and the replicants lacked in verisimilitude (there's a word I've been wanting to use!). There also seemed to be a lot of emphasis on stars of yesteryear, even on TV shows of yesteryear. My daughter, despite having had little interest in the exhibits, still thought it was fun. That is the gift of being her age -- discernment does not lessen pleasure. Not yet.
We walked back to Grauman's and like the other other tourists gawked at the names of the stars on the sidewalk, and the differentiators between Tv, music, film and radio stars. My daughter wondered if Miley Cyrus and the Jonas Brothers had done theirs yet.
The Grauman's handprints did not disappoint. We found John Wayne's and we got into a nice conversation with some visitors from Australia about the stars of their youth.....We found the Marx Brothers and my daughter was delighted to point out that Harpo had signed by drawing a harp with an "o" next to it.
Our good luck was to be thirsty in Grauman's plaza where in return for a $2 soft drink purchase we received the all important parking validation allowing us only pay $3.00 for parking. A coup to be sure!
There was only one way to cap our tourist expedition -- and that was with lunch at Carney's, the train car, located on the Sunset Strip, where my daughter enjoyed a hamburger and I the Carney's dog.
For an afternoon we were tourists in our own town. There are worse ways to spend a few hours (trust me I know).
And while we're on the subject of Don Was, I don't kow if you have checked out what Don is doing at MY DAMN CHANNEL, but you should --- he's doing a weekly video blog, he's posting free music and free music videos of artists he's produced (Rocket, Jackshit, Sweet Pea Atkinson, Maia Sharp, Wayne Kramer),there are interviews with Ozzy Osbourne and Duff and Slash, it's THE WASMOPOLITAN CAVALCADE OF RECORDED MUSIC. Yes, it is!
I should mention that these videos are shot, edited and produced by none other than Gemma Corfield who shows great talent and style in this emerging internet format.
There are advertiser sponsored segments like a Detroit road trip and a Nashville songwriter series -- it's very impressive.
But my favorite feature is what is now called Radio Was: The Party Shuffle Show which is basically a free internet weekly radio program where Don streams an hour or so of eclectic music selections from his IPOD -- always interesting, always fun to listen to.
I've checked out a lot of music sites on the web, and I have to say, Don's is compelling. But don't take my word for it.
Check it out!
I should mention that these videos are shot, edited and produced by none other than Gemma Corfield who shows great talent and style in this emerging internet format.
There are advertiser sponsored segments like a Detroit road trip and a Nashville songwriter series -- it's very impressive.
But my favorite feature is what is now called Radio Was: The Party Shuffle Show which is basically a free internet weekly radio program where Don streams an hour or so of eclectic music selections from his IPOD -- always interesting, always fun to listen to.
I've checked out a lot of music sites on the web, and I have to say, Don's is compelling. But don't take my word for it.
Check it out!
This was a great show-- the funk was thick and the groove was deep. Was/Not Was was in rare form -- hitting on all cylinders -- musically confident -- ebullient even -- it showed in their dance moves, in their solos, in the singing, in the songs old and new -
But this was not just a Was /Not Was concert. It was the Was/ Not Was was Valentine's Spectacular --- a Don Was version of Rolling Thunder, or a pilot for a modern day Johnny Cash show replete with amazing guests such as Brian Wilson, Kris Kristofferson, and Jill Sobule.
And what a night it was: Will anyone who was there ever forget when Brian Wilson almost ran off the rails.
.
Imagine Brian Wilson looking and seeming healthier than he has in years, renders 'God Only Knows' and 'Wouldn't it be nice' -- and then out of the blue starts trying to conduct the audience in a round of "Row, Row, Row - Row your boat ashore."
At that moment, I wanted to turn to the teenagers in the audience and say -- "That, is the argument against doing drugs."
Back back to the show: Was /Not Was performed with all three vocalists who had performed with the band over the years together on stage together, Sweet Pea Atkinson leading the troops, Sir Harry at his side -- the backup singers - every one swaying, doing the dance moves - a soul revue to make Detroit proud.
There was a smoking version of "Papa was a rolling stone" --as well as Was /Not Was classics like "Dad, I'm in Jail," "I blew up the United States" and "Walk the Dinosaur".
And new songs from the forthcoming album BOO
Kris Kristofferson was there to remind us of the great songs he's written including "Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down," Help me make it though the Night" and of course "Me and Bobby McGee."
and Brian Wilson did regroup to perform "Fun, Fun, Fun" with every one.
But this was not just a Was /Not Was concert. It was the Was/ Not Was was Valentine's Spectacular --- a Don Was version of Rolling Thunder, or a pilot for a modern day Johnny Cash show replete with amazing guests such as Brian Wilson, Kris Kristofferson, and Jill Sobule.
And what a night it was: Will anyone who was there ever forget when Brian Wilson almost ran off the rails.
.
Imagine Brian Wilson looking and seeming healthier than he has in years, renders 'God Only Knows' and 'Wouldn't it be nice' -- and then out of the blue starts trying to conduct the audience in a round of "Row, Row, Row - Row your boat ashore."At that moment, I wanted to turn to the teenagers in the audience and say -- "That, is the argument against doing drugs."
Back back to the show: Was /Not Was performed with all three vocalists who had performed with the band over the years together on stage together, Sweet Pea Atkinson leading the troops, Sir Harry at his side -- the backup singers - every one swaying, doing the dance moves - a soul revue to make Detroit proud.
There was a smoking version of "Papa was a rolling stone" --as well as Was /Not Was classics like "Dad, I'm in Jail," "I blew up the United States" and "Walk the Dinosaur".
And new songs from the forthcoming album BOO
Kris Kristofferson was there to remind us of the great songs he's written including "Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down," Help me make it though the Night" and of course "Me and Bobby McGee."
and Brian Wilson did regroup to perform "Fun, Fun, Fun" with every one.
Turns out the screw that holds my hard drive in place had come loose. WHEW! Much relieved.
Went a day without my computer -- didn't quite know what to do with myself.
But now I got to catch up
Went a day without my computer -- didn't quite know what to do with myself.
But now I got to catch up
I've got a whole lot to report on:
From the Was/Not Was performance at the Orpheum,
with special appearances by Jill Sobule, Brian Wilson and Kris Kristofferson
To a weekend spent in Vegas
where we dined at Bouchon, SW (the Steakhouse at the Wynn), and where my daughter saw the Beatles Love show, went to the Shark Reef at the Mandalay Bay, the Adventure Dome (or whaterever it is called -- I will check later) at Circus Circus (and is still wearing her wristband 3 days later) and we went to Spamalot, our stay at the Bellagio
to commentary on the books I've been catching up on, including Philip Roth's "Exit Ghost" and Lucette Lagnado's "The Man in the White sharkskin suit."
BUT LAST NIGHT MY COMPUTER CRASHED! and I've got to take it to my repair guru. I am now working off one of my old computers -- which is fine (I've have my backup to work off as well but still.....
So in the interim, this will have to do.....
From the Was/Not Was performance at the Orpheum,
with special appearances by Jill Sobule, Brian Wilson and Kris Kristofferson
To a weekend spent in Vegas
where we dined at Bouchon, SW (the Steakhouse at the Wynn), and where my daughter saw the Beatles Love show, went to the Shark Reef at the Mandalay Bay, the Adventure Dome (or whaterever it is called -- I will check later) at Circus Circus (and is still wearing her wristband 3 days later) and we went to Spamalot, our stay at the Bellagio
to commentary on the books I've been catching up on, including Philip Roth's "Exit Ghost" and Lucette Lagnado's "The Man in the White sharkskin suit."
BUT LAST NIGHT MY COMPUTER CRASHED! and I've got to take it to my repair guru. I am now working off one of my old computers -- which is fine (I've have my backup to work off as well but still.....
So in the interim, this will have to do.....
Sia, The Australian singer-songwriter just performed a half-hour set at the Hear Music Starbucks store on the promenade.
The above is a poor Treo shot -- but it is now de rigueur for people to hold up their cellphones during performances and take pics and I felt I owed my audience a little documentation.
Sia has a great stage manor, goofy and chatty all the time (she even does a bit of mugging that calls to mind Harpo Marx), but when she starts to sing, something else takes over. A song to a boyfriend telling him "I'm the girl you lost to cocaine" stays with you as do her other tunes that she performed such as "Little Black Sandals."
All in all a Valentine Day treat!
BUT ON TO THE MAIN EVENT:
WAS / WAS NOT is performing at the Orpheum tonight! (for my Tommywood column on Don and Was/Not Was
click here.
Opening is Jill Sobule, who seems to get mucho press on Tommywood. As they used to say, "The Girl can't help it"
My wife and I are very excited to be celebrating V-Day watching Was/Was Not preforming with special guests such as the legendary Brian Wilson and Kris Kristofferson.
See you there? If not, I'll report in manana.
The above is a poor Treo shot -- but it is now de rigueur for people to hold up their cellphones during performances and take pics and I felt I owed my audience a little documentation.
Sia has a great stage manor, goofy and chatty all the time (she even does a bit of mugging that calls to mind Harpo Marx), but when she starts to sing, something else takes over. A song to a boyfriend telling him "I'm the girl you lost to cocaine" stays with you as do her other tunes that she performed such as "Little Black Sandals."
All in all a Valentine Day treat!
BUT ON TO THE MAIN EVENT:
WAS / WAS NOT is performing at the Orpheum tonight! (for my Tommywood column on Don and Was/Not Was
click here.
Opening is Jill Sobule, who seems to get mucho press on Tommywood. As they used to say, "The Girl can't help it"
My wife and I are very excited to be celebrating V-Day watching Was/Was Not preforming with special guests such as the legendary Brian Wilson and Kris Kristofferson.
See you there? If not, I'll report in manana.
When I thought of finding a love poem for Valentine's Day, my mind went immediately to "Toi et moi," ("You and Me") the collection of poems by Paul Geraldy. Published in 1913, "Toi et Moi" was an instant success, and was at one time the best-selling collection of poetry in France -- it is sentimental but it has its appeal.
I went to my home library and sought out my copy -- and of course, the one time I needed to find it, I couldn't (if you saw my library you might wonder how I could find anything -- but it was not in my poetry section, or my shelf of books in French). So given the 21rst Century, I went online and found the following poem called "Abat Jour" from "Toi et Moi" on a site called "La poesie que j"aime" (The poetry that I love) --
I went to my home library and sought out my copy -- and of course, the one time I needed to find it, I couldn't (if you saw my library you might wonder how I could find anything -- but it was not in my poetry section, or my shelf of books in French). So given the 21rst Century, I went online and found the following poem called "Abat Jour" from "Toi et Moi" on a site called "La poesie que j"aime" (The poetry that I love) --
Abat-jour
Tu demandes pourquoi je reste sans rien dire ?
C'est que voici le grand moment,
l'heure des yeux et du sourire,
le soir, et que ce soir je t'aime infiniment !
Serre-moi contre toi. J'ai besoin de caresses.
Si tu savais tout ce qui monte en moi, ce soir,
d'ambition, d'orgueil, de désir, de tendresse, et de bonté !...
Mais non, tu ne peux pas savoir !...
Baisse un peu l'abat-jour, veux-tu ? Nous serons mieux.
C'est dans l'ombre que les coeurs causent,
et l'on voit beaucoup mieux les yeux
quand on voit un peu moins les choses.
Ce soir je t'aime trop pour te parler d'amour.
Serre-moi contre ta poitrine!
Je voudrais que ce soit mon tour d'être celui que l'on câline...
Baisse encore un peu l'abat-jour.
Là. Ne parlons plus. Soyons sages.
Et ne bougeons pas. C'est si bon
tes mains tièdes sur mon visage!...
Mais qu'est-ce encor ? Que nous veut-on ?
Ah! c'est le café qu'on apporte !
Eh bien, posez ça là, voyons !
Faites vite!... Et fermez la porte !
Qu'est-ce que je te disais donc ?
Nous prenons ce café... maintenant ? Tu préfères ?
C'est vrai : toi, tu l'aimes très chaud.
Veux-tu que je te serve? Attends! Laisse-moi faire.
Il est fort, aujourd'hui. Du sucre? Un seul morceau?
C'est assez? Veux-tu que je goûte?
Là! Voici votre tasse, amour...
Mais qu'il fait sombre. On n'y voit goutte.
Lève donc un peu l'abat-jour.
Since posting about Dylan covering other people's songs, I stumbled into a bunch of others on MOG -- www.mog.com , a music blog site. (By the way in my last post I said Wolftrap was in Maryland; turns out it's in Virginia -- which speaks volumes about what condition my condition must have been in at the time).
On MOG I found Dylan covering George Harrison's "Something"
There was also a cover of Sam Cooke's "A Change is gonna come" which Ossie Davis in his introduction says was inspired by "Blowin' in the Wind" -- never knew that! (but it can't touch Otis Redding's version).
There's also an audio clip from Dylan's XM radio show of his reciting "'Twas the Night before Christmas" and a clip of his singing some Shel Silverstein lyrics.
DYLAN ON ED SULLIVAN -- NOT
At the Skirball, at the very end of the exhibit, there's a video monitor where Dylan recounts how he walked off the Ed Sullivan in 1963 -- and how he regrets doing so.
MIKE BLOOMFIELD
He also says in another video clip that he thought Mike Bloomfield made a mistake not joining Dylan on the road. I agree -- Bloomfield's searing guitar on Maggie's Farm live at Newport was never matched.
DYLAN INTERVIEWS
In the course of my research for my column I came across two recent interviews with Dylan in Rolling Stone which are worth reading. one by Jonathan Lethem (September 7, 2006) and the other by Jann Wenner himself (May 7, 2007).
In my column, I say that Dylan rejected the whole notion of leaders. To that opinion Dylan has remained true. Here's what he told Wenner:
On MOG I found Dylan covering George Harrison's "Something"
There was also a cover of Sam Cooke's "A Change is gonna come" which Ossie Davis in his introduction says was inspired by "Blowin' in the Wind" -- never knew that! (but it can't touch Otis Redding's version).
There's also an audio clip from Dylan's XM radio show of his reciting "'Twas the Night before Christmas" and a clip of his singing some Shel Silverstein lyrics.
DYLAN ON ED SULLIVAN -- NOT
At the Skirball, at the very end of the exhibit, there's a video monitor where Dylan recounts how he walked off the Ed Sullivan in 1963 -- and how he regrets doing so.
MIKE BLOOMFIELD
He also says in another video clip that he thought Mike Bloomfield made a mistake not joining Dylan on the road. I agree -- Bloomfield's searing guitar on Maggie's Farm live at Newport was never matched.
DYLAN INTERVIEWS
In the course of my research for my column I came across two recent interviews with Dylan in Rolling Stone which are worth reading. one by Jonathan Lethem (September 7, 2006) and the other by Jann Wenner himself (May 7, 2007).
In my column, I say that Dylan rejected the whole notion of leaders. To that opinion Dylan has remained true. Here's what he told Wenner:
“I think what you’re driving at, though, is we expect politicians to solve all our problems. I don’t expect politicians to solve anybody’s problems….We’ve got to take the world by the horns and solve our own problems. The world owes us nothing, each and everyone of us, the world owes us not a single thing. Politicians or whoever….”
In Lethem’s Rolling Stone interview, Dylan makes an interesting point—that a lot of the songs he wrote during that era continue to be played by him and covered by others. He asks how many other artists of the era can one say that about?“I love Marvin Gaye,” Dylan says, “But how often are you gonna hear “What’s going on? I mean who sings it….Where is that being sung tonight?”
I went on a school field trip today to the Wells Fargo history of the Gold Rush Museum in downtown Los Angeles (located in the Wells Fargo building on 3rd and Grand, across the street from MOCA).
Having grown up in New York, I know little about the gold rush -- and I have to confess there was a lot to learn here, including seeing an actual stagecoach, and learning exactly what traveling to the West entailed. I also learned about Black Bart, the man who managed to rob 29 stagecoaches in 8 years, and who was finally apprehended by Wells Fargo detectives who tracked him down through the laundry mark on a handkerchief he left at the scene of a crime. I also saw several examplars of gold nuggets and how the miners panned for them.
Although it would be in my nature to be find fault with Wells Fargo's self-promotion in this matter, I didn't take offense. Their story is a great window into California history. Turns out they have several history museums set up throughout the state (in Sacramento, and San Diego as well).
Makes we want to head up north during Spring break and see Sutter's Mill. Actually given the current price of gold, panning may not be such a bad idea for a way to spend my daughter's next vacation.
Having grown up in New York, I know little about the gold rush -- and I have to confess there was a lot to learn here, including seeing an actual stagecoach, and learning exactly what traveling to the West entailed. I also learned about Black Bart, the man who managed to rob 29 stagecoaches in 8 years, and who was finally apprehended by Wells Fargo detectives who tracked him down through the laundry mark on a handkerchief he left at the scene of a crime. I also saw several examplars of gold nuggets and how the miners panned for them.
Although it would be in my nature to be find fault with Wells Fargo's self-promotion in this matter, I didn't take offense. Their story is a great window into California history. Turns out they have several history museums set up throughout the state (in Sacramento, and San Diego as well).
Makes we want to head up north during Spring break and see Sutter's Mill. Actually given the current price of gold, panning may not be such a bad idea for a way to spend my daughter's next vacation.
Martha Blum, author of the Walnut Tree has died. Her obit in The Globe and Mail is worth reading.....read all the way to the end and read her last words....
MARTHA BLUM, 94: WRITER
Pharmacist survived the Holocaust to publish her first novel at 86
All told, the Saskatoon teacher and musician wrote three books -- all in longhand and all while lying in bed. As a result, her duvet covers were forever stained with ink
REGINA -- For years, Holocaust survivor and retired pharmacist Martha Blum kept her writing to herself. Then, at 86, she published her first novel, The Walnut Tree, which tells the story of a well-to-do Jewish woman who uses her skills as a pharmacist to save her family from the Nazis.
The novel went on to be a finalist for the Canadian Booksellers Association's Ex Libris Award but lost to Alistair Macleod's masterpiece, No Great Mischief.
Mrs. Blum was born in 1913 in Czernowitz, Austria (now Chernivtsi, Ukraine). With the defeat of Germany and Austria at the end of the First World War, the city became part of Romania and remained so while Mrs. Blum was growing up.
Her family owned a large pharmaceutical plant. Her parents, Abraham and Susi Guttmann, and her older brother, Wilhelm, were all pharmacologists. Coming from a wealthy family, she was cared for by a French governess who taught her piano, as well as French.
For holidays, she was often sent to her grandfather's house in Suczawa, Austria. Mrs. Blum cherished these visits, because it was with him that she learned many practical skills, such as cooking and herding geese. Back at her parents' home, servants took care of such things.
Mrs. Blum wanted to be a doctor, but her father pressured her to study pharmacy and sent her to be schooled in Prague and later Paris. It was while she was in university in 1935 that she married a young mathematician named Richard Blum, who was also from Czernowitz.
They would have only a few happy years together before the outbreak of the Second World War. By that time, the couple had returned to Czernowitz and, being Jewish, it wasn't long before they were rounded up by the Nazis and isolated in a ghetto. Life was miserable. Sanitation was poor and many people died of disease. Those not fit for work did not receive food coupons and were left to starve.
The Blums were luckier than most. As pharmacologists, their profession was considered an essential service and they were made to work as slaves, filling the prescriptions of German soldiers.
It was this work that kept them out of the concentration camps. Even so, Mrs. Blum couldn't tolerate life in the ghetto. She and her family shared a room with 17 other families. Fed up, she marched over to the SS officer in command and refused to work unless her family was allowed to return home to Czernowitz.
Although she won the concession, they still were not safe. One day, while out walking, her husband was picked up by soldiers and sent to a work camp.
In 1944, fighting between the Soviet Union and the Germans intensified around Czernowitz and she decided to move to Bucharest, the capital of Romania. She hid aboard a train, but not before sending her husband a message. She wrote a note in the margin of a newspaper. "I'll be waiting for you," it said.
The newspaper got passed from person to person until it finally reached him at the work camp. Not long after that, the work camp was ordered closed and the officer in charge was told to shoot all the inmates. Fortunately, the officer could not bring himself to do it. Instead, he opened the gates in the middle of the night and set the men free.
Months later, after travelling all the way on foot, her husband arrived in Bucharest. It was there that Mrs. Blum started life over. She opened her own pharmacy and later gave birth to the only child she would have, Irene.
After the war, Romania was absorbed into the Soviet sphere of Communist countries. Mrs. Blum, coming from an entrepreneurial family, opposed the values of communism. In 1950, her pharmacy was confiscated and her husband made some anti-Communist statements that placed the couple on a list of undesirables. At that point, they knew they must leave the country.
Mrs. Blum spent three days waiting in line to get passports and, with them, they hoped to catch a boat to Israel. Luck was again with them. A friend who was unable to travel gave them tickets for a boat about to depart. Next day, two boats left for Israel but only theirs would arrive. The other was severely overloaded and sank.
Once in Israel, Mrs. Blum worked as a pharmacist and her husband worked on a photogrammetry project for the Israeli government. Her brother, Wilhelm, also joined her in Israel and would found a large pharmaceutical company there called Assia, a forerunner of the giant Teva Pharmaceutical Industries. At it turned out, the Blums would stay just one year in Israel. Mrs. Blum's parents had already immigrated to Canada and, in 1951, they followed with their daughter.
After a spell in Wolfville, N.S., where her husband taught at Acadia University, they settled in Saskatoon where Mr. Blum joined the faculty of the University of Saskatchewan.
Mrs. Blum found a part-time, morning job at a pharmacy, unbeknownst to her daughter. As far as Irene was concerned, Mrs. Blum was a stay-at-home mom. Mrs. Blum got her daughter off to school in the morning and was home by lunchtime. "She didn't want me to know I wasn't her only focus," said Irene.
From time to time, Mrs. Blum taught at the university's college of pharmacy and nutrition, and accepted invitations to visit high schools to talk about the Holocaust.
Mrs. Blum also wrote about the Holocaust, but she kept that work a secret as well. When Irene found out, she encouraged her mother to find a publisher and the first manuscript ended up at Coteau Books, a publishing house in Regina.
Mrs. Blum's editor, Geoffrey Ursell, remembers fondly sitting at Mrs. Blum's table eating chocolate and working on the manuscript with her. He described the work as lyrical.
The Walnut Tree was launched at the Delta Bessborough Hotel, and more than 500 people poured into the ballroom to hear Mrs. Blum read from her work.
Mrs. Blum would write two more books: Children of Paper, which was based on her memories of visiting her grandfather as a child, and The Apothecary, which was about a young man who survives the war as a pharmacist and finds himself in Vienna in the 1960s. The Apothecary won a Saskatchewan Book Award.
Mrs. Blum wrote all three of her books long-hand in bed. As a result, her duvet cover was stained with ink.
In addition to writing, Mrs. Blum was an accomplished musician who used her knowledge of French, English, German, Romanian, Hebrew, Yiddish, Spanish and Italian to help helped performers sing in different languages. Even if she didn't speak the required language, Mrs. Blum learned it anyway. For instance, she researched Bulgarian for a student who was to perform at an international vocal competition in Bulgaria. The student's perfect pronunciation so impressed the judges that they assumed Mrs. Blum was Bulgarian.
For her accomplishments in writing and music, Mrs. Blum received an honorary doctorate from the University of Saskatchewan in 2006. Eight years earlier, she was one of 50 Holocaust survivors recognized by the Canadian Human Rights Commission for their contributions to society.
MARTHA BLUM
Martha Blum was born on June 30, 1913, in Czernowitz, Austria. She died of heart failure in Saskatoon on Dec. 12, 2007. She was 94. In her final moments, she uttered the word "poetry" three times. She is survived by her daughter Irene Blum of Edmonton. She was predeceased by her husband, who died in November, 2004.
My congrats go out to the Grammy winning album of the year -- Herbie Hancock's "The River: The Joni Letters", Herbie Hancock's riffs on Joni Mitchell's songs with vocals by Mitchell herself, Tina Turner, Luciana Souza among others.(Between us, Tina Turner's vocal is amazing -- who knew that the woman who never did anything soft and slow, would turn out to be Sarah Vaughn and Ella Fitzgerald combined). This is the first Jazz record to win album of the year since Stan Getz several decades ago.
The Album of the year award is also shared by its producer Larry Klein, whom my readers may recall as the subject of a recent Tommywood column, "Rivers of Music." This is really Klein's year!
It was also great to hear Herbie's shoutout to Ken Hertz and everyone at the law firm of Goldring, Hertz & Lichtenstein -- Herbie was one of Ken & Fred Goldrings's first clients (if not their first) and Ken was the one who suggested I profile Klein and who made the introduction.
So, a great tribute to Joni Mitchell, to Herbie Hancock and to Larry Klein -- good work speaks for itself.
The Album of the year award is also shared by its producer Larry Klein, whom my readers may recall as the subject of a recent Tommywood column, "Rivers of Music." This is really Klein's year!
It was also great to hear Herbie's shoutout to Ken Hertz and everyone at the law firm of Goldring, Hertz & Lichtenstein -- Herbie was one of Ken & Fred Goldrings's first clients (if not their first) and Ken was the one who suggested I profile Klein and who made the introduction.
So, a great tribute to Joni Mitchell, to Herbie Hancock and to Larry Klein -- good work speaks for itself.
Although much has been made of the fact that Dylan's work has been covered-- Dylan himself has covered a great many songs, beginning with the covers he did early in his career.
One of my favorites early on was Dylan's cover on his first album of Eric von Scmidt's "Baby let me follow you down." Dylan did a great version of this song at the 1966 Royal Albert Hall concert that was only available as a bootleg for many years (which was how I first heard it) but was released in 1998 as "Live 1966"-- for me, it has the freedom and joy of what Dylan called "that wild mercury sound" he brought to his albums at that time.
Speaking of that sound -- Robert Zimmerman's stated ambition in his high school yearbook was to play in Little Richard's band. Well, last night, at the Grammys Richard himself -- old as time but timeless nonetheless, performed and I heard in his wild yelps and hollers and pounding rhythm some of that sound that Dylan found in his electric albums.
But back to the covers. Dylan has also done some strange, awful and unusual versions of other people's songs. There was his 1970 cover of Paul Simon's "The Boxer." In 1973, in what I have to believe was a moment of contractual dispute, Columbia released an album mostly filled with covers that is now called "Dylan" (I think it may have been called "13" at one time). It includes covers of Jerry Jeff Walker's "Mr. Bojangles," Joni Mitchell's "Big Yellow Taxi" and Elvis' "Can't help falling in Love."
Recently, as Warren Zevon was living his last days, Dylan started performing some of his songs.
However, one of the most unusual set of covers I ever saw Dylan sing, was at a concert at Wolf Trap in Maryland where he performed Dave Mason's "We Just Disagree," Jimmy Buffett's "Pirate looks at 40," and -- this I'll never forget -- Dion's "Abraham, Martin & John."
One of my favorites early on was Dylan's cover on his first album of Eric von Scmidt's "Baby let me follow you down." Dylan did a great version of this song at the 1966 Royal Albert Hall concert that was only available as a bootleg for many years (which was how I first heard it) but was released in 1998 as "Live 1966"-- for me, it has the freedom and joy of what Dylan called "that wild mercury sound" he brought to his albums at that time.
Speaking of that sound -- Robert Zimmerman's stated ambition in his high school yearbook was to play in Little Richard's band. Well, last night, at the Grammys Richard himself -- old as time but timeless nonetheless, performed and I heard in his wild yelps and hollers and pounding rhythm some of that sound that Dylan found in his electric albums.
But back to the covers. Dylan has also done some strange, awful and unusual versions of other people's songs. There was his 1970 cover of Paul Simon's "The Boxer." In 1973, in what I have to believe was a moment of contractual dispute, Columbia released an album mostly filled with covers that is now called "Dylan" (I think it may have been called "13" at one time). It includes covers of Jerry Jeff Walker's "Mr. Bojangles," Joni Mitchell's "Big Yellow Taxi" and Elvis' "Can't help falling in Love."
Recently, as Warren Zevon was living his last days, Dylan started performing some of his songs.
However, one of the most unusual set of covers I ever saw Dylan sing, was at a concert at Wolf Trap in Maryland where he performed Dave Mason's "We Just Disagree," Jimmy Buffett's "Pirate looks at 40," and -- this I'll never forget -- Dion's "Abraham, Martin & John."
As I was checking in to the Claremont Hotel in Berkeley with my family this weekend, I saw a familiar face sitting in the lobby -- Michael Pollan, the now well known author of such books as "The Omnivore's Dilemma."
I haven't seen Michael in several years (I still think of him as "Mike Pollan" from high school) -- I had heard from a mutual friend that he was living in Berkeley and teaching at the University there -- and of course, I'd seen the great reviews he had been getting for his new book "In Defense of Food" usually accompanied by a picture -- so I knew what he looked like.
Still, I wasn't sure it was him. So I looked once and looked twice and finally had to walk over -- As I did he had that look that combines two questions: Do I know this person or is this person going to harass me? -- but as soon as I held out my hand and started to say my name -- well, suddenly we were back on familiar footing.
My Hungarican Soul Brother Lawrence Karman ("Doc" to everyone in the film biz; Latzi to me) coined the expression "The Teicholz effect" for his conviction that no matter where I land, I will run into someone I know within two hours of arrival. So having run into Pollan I could rest easy on that front.
Pollan mentioned that he was going to be down in LA this Monday night (tonight) to speak as part of the Aloud series at the LA Public Central Library. We both immediately said nice things about Louise Steinman who runs the program (I profiled Steinman in my column "The Salonistas of LA" -- by the way, the interview I did for ALOUD with Nathan Englander is available on www.LA36.org here).
When I went to the Aloud series website I learned that Pollan was in conversation with Barry Glassner, a good choice, given his own book on food (My column on Glassner can be read here). I also learned that the evening was already practically sold out, with only standby room available.
STOP THE BLOG-- I was about to launch into a whole discussion of the Pollan oeuvre and why he is respected, admired and yes, envied by his fellow writers -- but I am sensing a potential Tommywood column in all this. So I will hold off, and in the event that a column is not forthcoming, I will return to blogging about him later on.....
I haven't seen Michael in several years (I still think of him as "Mike Pollan" from high school) -- I had heard from a mutual friend that he was living in Berkeley and teaching at the University there -- and of course, I'd seen the great reviews he had been getting for his new book "In Defense of Food" usually accompanied by a picture -- so I knew what he looked like.
Still, I wasn't sure it was him. So I looked once and looked twice and finally had to walk over -- As I did he had that look that combines two questions: Do I know this person or is this person going to harass me? -- but as soon as I held out my hand and started to say my name -- well, suddenly we were back on familiar footing.
My Hungarican Soul Brother Lawrence Karman ("Doc" to everyone in the film biz; Latzi to me) coined the expression "The Teicholz effect" for his conviction that no matter where I land, I will run into someone I know within two hours of arrival. So having run into Pollan I could rest easy on that front.
Pollan mentioned that he was going to be down in LA this Monday night (tonight) to speak as part of the Aloud series at the LA Public Central Library. We both immediately said nice things about Louise Steinman who runs the program (I profiled Steinman in my column "The Salonistas of LA" -- by the way, the interview I did for ALOUD with Nathan Englander is available on www.LA36.org here).
When I went to the Aloud series website I learned that Pollan was in conversation with Barry Glassner, a good choice, given his own book on food (My column on Glassner can be read here). I also learned that the evening was already practically sold out, with only standby room available.
STOP THE BLOG-- I was about to launch into a whole discussion of the Pollan oeuvre and why he is respected, admired and yes, envied by his fellow writers -- but I am sensing a potential Tommywood column in all this. So I will hold off, and in the event that a column is not forthcoming, I will return to blogging about him later on.....
For today's Dylan du jour item, in honor of the opening of the Skirball exhibit today, "Bob Dylan's American Journey, 1956-1966" I would like to tell you about one of my favorite artifacts in the show.
It's a typed letter to Joan Baez's mother that Dylan wrote as if from Joan Baez, and got Joan to sign. It's quite funny and impish. In the letter, Dylan makes himself out to be a King Kong-esque beast constantly attacking her daughter.
This is accompanied by a handwritten letter from Joan Baez to her mother, explaining and apologizing for Dylan's joke letter. She talks about Dick and Mimi (Richard Farina and her sister Mimi Farina) but mostly she gushes about "Bobby" and their relationship. It's a wonderful letter. Baez pretends to be so adult, but she is in full puppy love mode telling her mother that Bobby is sweet and buys her gifts, and bathes, and is smart about business, and how she enjoys his genius but, she says, there are "no chains" on their relationship. Oh boy!
Doesn't matter who you are -- Ah to be young, gifted and silly in love.....
Vanity Fair has canceled its Oscar party -- Given that the party had gotten so big and had become such a big production, taking a year off must come as a relief to many, certainly at Vanity Fair.
The stated reason is the writer's strike -- a feeling that regardless of the outcome, even if the strike has ended and the Oscars go on as planned, the strike will color the festive mood. Canceling the party was made to seem to be an act of solidarity with the writers. And I'm sure that's true.
However, given the late date and the fact that Morton's, where the party was traditionally held, is now under renovation to become the LA branch of Soho House -- I'm sure there were all sorts of logistical issues Vanity Fair is happy not to deal with. Also I'm sure people will be relieved not to have to sweat whether they are in or out, invited to dinner or not, invited at 10 or 11 --
At the same time photographers and gossip/ celebrity journalists will be sorry -- The Vanity Fair party was like shooting fish in a barrel. And of course the attendees will miss it too -- there are less social opportunities for so many stars to mix and for others to see them than you might think. And although it has been several years since I attended (and several since I was invited to attend), I will miss it too.
The Vanity Fair party was launched in the Tina Brown era and it was an extension of Brown's concept of the magazine as a great dinner party. mixing the subjects of articles with their Vanity Fair writers, Hollywood stars and executives, and letting power brokers and advertisers bask in the relflected glory of bold face names.
I was invited to the early Vanity Fair parties in great part thanks to the kindness of Jane Sarkin.
Jane and I had worked together at Interview -- a bonding experience if ever there was one. She left Interview for Vanity Fair early in the Tina Brown administration and rose to become supreme talent booker, arranger of photo shoots, keeper of the Vanity Fair Oscar party invite list -- and a thousand other tasks that were, or are, on balance, critical to Vanity Fair's success. So much so that you may notice that the recent cover stories/interviews with Tom Cruise and Julia Roberts were by Jane Sarkin. Not bad for a Jersey girl!
In time the party grew in importance as the event that you had to visit on Oscar night. Like RIck's Cafe, everyone came by at some point. In the years I attended, I saw, as the old the expression goes, more stars than in the heavens at night, You may be surprised to hear this, but Brad Pitt is a good looking guy; Demi Moore looks younger than her actual years; Nicole Kidman is tall, and pretty but seems somewhat cold; Penelope Cruz is not tall, in fact she has a taller and prettier sister, but she is more attractive; Audrey Tatou is tiny. And so goes the night -- matching reality to the pictures in the magazine and on the screen.
For my part, I was happy to hang out with other writers I knew, gossip columnists of all stripes, my other fellow former Interview staffers, cosmetic and advertising execs -- we would commandeer a booth, enjoy the cocktails and sit back and enjoy the show.
Getting to shake the hands of Muhammad Ali and Stevie Wonder were memorable moments. Hanging out with Dominick Dunne and hearing his stories of Hollywood in the day was great fun.
And yes, I was there the night that Ellen met Anne. Although they had just met, boy, they seemed friendly.
Some years my friends and I would close out the place and then go over to the Miramax after party -
Eventually, and understandably, I dropped off the list.
Which was just as well because I had come to a point, where, as much as I enjoyed being there -- I had lost the belief I once had that attending such evenings was transformative. That way of thinking belongs to a different stage of the game. So I let it go.
I have no idea whether the Vanity Fair party will, in fact, return next year and if it does whether it will still be as much fun. I can't even tell you whether I will wish I was there.
The stated reason is the writer's strike -- a feeling that regardless of the outcome, even if the strike has ended and the Oscars go on as planned, the strike will color the festive mood. Canceling the party was made to seem to be an act of solidarity with the writers. And I'm sure that's true.
However, given the late date and the fact that Morton's, where the party was traditionally held, is now under renovation to become the LA branch of Soho House -- I'm sure there were all sorts of logistical issues Vanity Fair is happy not to deal with. Also I'm sure people will be relieved not to have to sweat whether they are in or out, invited to dinner or not, invited at 10 or 11 --
At the same time photographers and gossip/ celebrity journalists will be sorry -- The Vanity Fair party was like shooting fish in a barrel. And of course the attendees will miss it too -- there are less social opportunities for so many stars to mix and for others to see them than you might think. And although it has been several years since I attended (and several since I was invited to attend), I will miss it too.
The Vanity Fair party was launched in the Tina Brown era and it was an extension of Brown's concept of the magazine as a great dinner party. mixing the subjects of articles with their Vanity Fair writers, Hollywood stars and executives, and letting power brokers and advertisers bask in the relflected glory of bold face names.
I was invited to the early Vanity Fair parties in great part thanks to the kindness of Jane Sarkin.
Jane and I had worked together at Interview -- a bonding experience if ever there was one. She left Interview for Vanity Fair early in the Tina Brown administration and rose to become supreme talent booker, arranger of photo shoots, keeper of the Vanity Fair Oscar party invite list -- and a thousand other tasks that were, or are, on balance, critical to Vanity Fair's success. So much so that you may notice that the recent cover stories/interviews with Tom Cruise and Julia Roberts were by Jane Sarkin. Not bad for a Jersey girl!
In time the party grew in importance as the event that you had to visit on Oscar night. Like RIck's Cafe, everyone came by at some point. In the years I attended, I saw, as the old the expression goes, more stars than in the heavens at night, You may be surprised to hear this, but Brad Pitt is a good looking guy; Demi Moore looks younger than her actual years; Nicole Kidman is tall, and pretty but seems somewhat cold; Penelope Cruz is not tall, in fact she has a taller and prettier sister, but she is more attractive; Audrey Tatou is tiny. And so goes the night -- matching reality to the pictures in the magazine and on the screen.
For my part, I was happy to hang out with other writers I knew, gossip columnists of all stripes, my other fellow former Interview staffers, cosmetic and advertising execs -- we would commandeer a booth, enjoy the cocktails and sit back and enjoy the show.
Getting to shake the hands of Muhammad Ali and Stevie Wonder were memorable moments. Hanging out with Dominick Dunne and hearing his stories of Hollywood in the day was great fun.
And yes, I was there the night that Ellen met Anne. Although they had just met, boy, they seemed friendly.
Some years my friends and I would close out the place and then go over to the Miramax after party -
Eventually, and understandably, I dropped off the list.
Which was just as well because I had come to a point, where, as much as I enjoyed being there -- I had lost the belief I once had that attending such evenings was transformative. That way of thinking belongs to a different stage of the game. So I let it go.
I have no idea whether the Vanity Fair party will, in fact, return next year and if it does whether it will still be as much fun. I can't even tell you whether I will wish I was there.
Last night I went to the opening of the Dylan exhibit at the Skirball. Let me say this --I've now been twice and I still haven't had the time to look at everything I want to as deeply as I'd like.
My Tommywood column on the exhibit will appear in the Jewish Journal of Los Angeles on Thursday and I will post it on this website then. The exhibit, entitled, "Bob Dylan's American Journey, 1956-1966" opens to the public this Friday February 8 -- so in order to write the article in time for it to appear this week, I had to do most of my research before seeing the exhibit. Then the folks at the Skirball were good enough to let me visit while while it was still being installed.
My first draft was 4,500 words -- that's about 18 pages long. I had Dylan quotes from interviews he's done recently with Jonathan Lethem and Jann Wenner in Rolling Stone and references to some of the obscure artifacts in the exhibit. With direction from my editor Susan Freudenheim, I cut all the more academic references and less personal commentary and managed to rein in my piece at 2500 words -- and I confess it is the better for it [whether it's any good is another matter].
Still I I had so much fun delving into Dylanalia that beginning on Friday for a week I will feature an item about Bob Dylan each day on The Tommywood blog. Consider it "Dylan week" at Tommywood in honor of the Skirball exhibit.
My Tommywood column on the exhibit will appear in the Jewish Journal of Los Angeles on Thursday and I will post it on this website then. The exhibit, entitled, "Bob Dylan's American Journey, 1956-1966" opens to the public this Friday February 8 -- so in order to write the article in time for it to appear this week, I had to do most of my research before seeing the exhibit. Then the folks at the Skirball were good enough to let me visit while while it was still being installed.
My first draft was 4,500 words -- that's about 18 pages long. I had Dylan quotes from interviews he's done recently with Jonathan Lethem and Jann Wenner in Rolling Stone and references to some of the obscure artifacts in the exhibit. With direction from my editor Susan Freudenheim, I cut all the more academic references and less personal commentary and managed to rein in my piece at 2500 words -- and I confess it is the better for it [whether it's any good is another matter].
Still I I had so much fun delving into Dylanalia that beginning on Friday for a week I will feature an item about Bob Dylan each day on The Tommywood blog. Consider it "Dylan week" at Tommywood in honor of the Skirball exhibit.
Leno, as reported just about everywhere, continues to dominate the late-night ratings, despite his writers being on strike, and in spite of the fact that Letterman, who signed an interim pact with the Writer's Guild, is supposedly supposed to be getting "better" guests.
Comedy mavens. and not a few comedy snobs, prefer Letterman-- but the public continues to favor Leno. As do I.
I think the reason is simple: Before they go to sleep people want a warm glass of milk.
They are not looking for edgy, they are not looking for sharp. They are looking for soothing, comforting, old fashioned, middle of the road humor. A few chuckles, gentle teasing of the guest and then it's off to your dreams.
For years I've been arguing that if the Oscars actually wanted to have better ratings, they should hire Leno to host.
First of all, the Oscars are, when all is said and done, a TV show. And who is more popular on TV? Is it Jon Stewart? Conan? I think not. Second, Leno harks back to Bob Hope -- corny, yes. But funny too.
So let me say it again. Give Leno his due: Let him host the Oscars.
Comedy mavens. and not a few comedy snobs, prefer Letterman-- but the public continues to favor Leno. As do I.
I think the reason is simple: Before they go to sleep people want a warm glass of milk.
They are not looking for edgy, they are not looking for sharp. They are looking for soothing, comforting, old fashioned, middle of the road humor. A few chuckles, gentle teasing of the guest and then it's off to your dreams.
For years I've been arguing that if the Oscars actually wanted to have better ratings, they should hire Leno to host.
First of all, the Oscars are, when all is said and done, a TV show. And who is more popular on TV? Is it Jon Stewart? Conan? I think not. Second, Leno harks back to Bob Hope -- corny, yes. But funny too.
So let me say it again. Give Leno his due: Let him host the Oscars.
Earl Butz, the former Secretary of Agriculture in the Ford administration, who resigned over racist comments he made aboard a plane trip after the Republican convention, died on Saturday at 98. He also was convicted and did jail time for misstating his speaking income in 1978.
Butz's remarks were reported by John Dean in Rolling Stone, but Dean did not name Butz. It fell to Tony Schwartz, then at New Times, to call up every person he could on that flight, until he identified Butz as the source of the comments. Schwartz had gone to my high school (his younger brother was in my class) and as I was starting in journalism he was always kind to talk or see me. I may have even visited him at New Times (can't remember anymore).
In the follow-up to this brouhaha, Schwartz took a job as a columnist at Dorothy Schiff's New York Post. Schwartz's first column was a personal about how strange it was to be a (gossip) columnist. The following week the Post was purchased by Rupert Murdoch. As is Mr. Murdoch's way he promised not to change the Post --except he said, that any columnist working for him is not going to apologize for being a columnist. Schwartz left shortly thereafter.
Butz's remarks were reported by John Dean in Rolling Stone, but Dean did not name Butz. It fell to Tony Schwartz, then at New Times, to call up every person he could on that flight, until he identified Butz as the source of the comments. Schwartz had gone to my high school (his younger brother was in my class) and as I was starting in journalism he was always kind to talk or see me. I may have even visited him at New Times (can't remember anymore).
In the follow-up to this brouhaha, Schwartz took a job as a columnist at Dorothy Schiff's New York Post. Schwartz's first column was a personal about how strange it was to be a (gossip) columnist. The following week the Post was purchased by Rupert Murdoch. As is Mr. Murdoch's way he promised not to change the Post --except he said, that any columnist working for him is not going to apologize for being a columnist. Schwartz left shortly thereafter.
As some of you know from reading my column on Roger Director's "I Dream in Blue: (Harper), I have never been much of a sports fan. And yet.
And yet interviewing Roger and reading his book taught me a lot about the Giants --- enough that I actually could name the players and voice opinions about their performance this season.
Roger's book was about last season and he voiced some strong opinions about the coaching and what had to change.
I think the Giants started to listen to him. Shortly after the publication of his book, and very soon after the publication of my column on Roger, the Giants started in on the winning streak that led them to Super Bowl.
In the run-up to the Super Bowl, I emailed Roger to ask him what role he thought he had played in the team's fortune.
On his way to the stadium, with our mutual friend and the editor of "I Dream in Blue" David Hirshey as his Ralph Steadman, Roger sent me the following reply:
I was in tension in the second half. I calculated. I held my breath. And then came the fourth quarter. There was a moment when I saw a cloud cross Eli Manning's face. I screamed at the TV, I yelled at Eli to keep the faith.
And he did. It was momentous and glorious.
I felt exultation. I felt vindication. I roared in the thrill of victory. I had become a Giants fan without remorse, without hearbreak. I found joy.
Who knew?
And yet interviewing Roger and reading his book taught me a lot about the Giants --- enough that I actually could name the players and voice opinions about their performance this season.
Roger's book was about last season and he voiced some strong opinions about the coaching and what had to change.
I think the Giants started to listen to him. Shortly after the publication of his book, and very soon after the publication of my column on Roger, the Giants started in on the winning streak that led them to Super Bowl.
In the run-up to the Super Bowl, I emailed Roger to ask him what role he thought he had played in the team's fortune.
On his way to the stadium, with our mutual friend and the editor of "I Dream in Blue" David Hirshey as his Ralph Steadman, Roger sent me the following reply:
In the far corner of my brain, depending on what combination of pharmaceuticals I've taken, I like to credit my book I Dream in Blue, with having provided the Giants whatever it was they needed to get over the hump!
As Super Bowl LXII launched I found myself staring at a large screen TV-- and continuing to watch. And having opinions, and then cheering and shouting and jumping up and down. I talked about the Giants defense. I talked about Eli Manning. I even had opinions about Tom Brady (the fact that I even knew who Tom Brady was surprising).go Big Blue.
I was in tension in the second half. I calculated. I held my breath. And then came the fourth quarter. There was a moment when I saw a cloud cross Eli Manning's face. I screamed at the TV, I yelled at Eli to keep the faith.
And he did. It was momentous and glorious.
I felt exultation. I felt vindication. I roared in the thrill of victory. I had become a Giants fan without remorse, without hearbreak. I found joy.
Who knew?
I went to Hollywood last night, not for the presidential debates, but for a more impressive showing: Wendy Kurtzman singing at the Knitting factory. It was like I was transported to New York's Cafe Carlyle for an evening of song and cabaret.
As Wendy said from the stage last night, there are many Wendys. I know her as a friend, as mother to three great kids, wife to Rick, as part of a fun couple to hang out with, as my camp director in Jackson, Wyoming (not literally, but Wendy is an inveterate planner of hikes in Jackson so when there I just call her). She also has had careers as an actress, casting director, and now as a chanteuse.
Here's the thing about Wendy -- she doesn't do anything half-way. About a year ago she started taking singing lessons -- not from anyone, but from the noted voice coach Calvin Remsberg, and several months after that decided she needed to get an act together. Now most of us would be content to sing in the shower, if that. Not Wendy.
A few months ago I attended a private showcase Wendy performed for family and friends in her living room, accompanied by John Boswell, a noted composer and performer in his own right. She performed a handful of songs, some by Sondheim, some that had been performed by Streisand. Randy Jackson would have been proud -- her voice was strong clear, never pitchy -- all in all an amazing recital. But was that enough? Not for Wendy.
Which is how I found myself in a sold-out room last night at the Knitting Factory.
Wendy, now accompanied by a band, with John Boswell on keyboards, Adrian Rosen on bass and Brian Boyce on drums, performed an incredible cabaret set of more than a dozen numbers including classics by Burt Bachrach (including songs from "Lost Horizon"), Sondheim, and songs made famous by Barbra Streisand and Linda Rondstadt.
Wendy talked about her life, and wove in the songs in between. She told a story about how early in her career she considered the stage name Wendy Sheridan, and how ever since her brother-in-law, Howard, would tease her saying: "What would Wendy Sheridan do?" Apparently, Wendy Sheridan is a fearless performer, who tells funny stories, and sings beautifully.
For me, the highlights were a performance of "I can't make you love me," a song made famous by Bonnie Raitt. She made it deeply, credibly, her own. The other amazing moment came in the encore when Wendy sang Billy Joel's "Lullabye: Goodnight my angel," to her daughter, Lauren.
All in all, it was a triumph! [By the way, in case you missed it, that's the pull quote for the ads, "A TRIUMPH!" says Tom Teicholz, Tommwyood.com"
For one night, I felt transported back to cafe society, to a world of songs and singers, to a night at the Cafe Carlyle.
I have no doubt that Wendy will be singing there soon.
As Wendy said from the stage last night, there are many Wendys. I know her as a friend, as mother to three great kids, wife to Rick, as part of a fun couple to hang out with, as my camp director in Jackson, Wyoming (not literally, but Wendy is an inveterate planner of hikes in Jackson so when there I just call her). She also has had careers as an actress, casting director, and now as a chanteuse.
Here's the thing about Wendy -- she doesn't do anything half-way. About a year ago she started taking singing lessons -- not from anyone, but from the noted voice coach Calvin Remsberg, and several months after that decided she needed to get an act together. Now most of us would be content to sing in the shower, if that. Not Wendy.
A few months ago I attended a private showcase Wendy performed for family and friends in her living room, accompanied by John Boswell, a noted composer and performer in his own right. She performed a handful of songs, some by Sondheim, some that had been performed by Streisand. Randy Jackson would have been proud -- her voice was strong clear, never pitchy -- all in all an amazing recital. But was that enough? Not for Wendy.
Which is how I found myself in a sold-out room last night at the Knitting Factory.
Wendy, now accompanied by a band, with John Boswell on keyboards, Adrian Rosen on bass and Brian Boyce on drums, performed an incredible cabaret set of more than a dozen numbers including classics by Burt Bachrach (including songs from "Lost Horizon"), Sondheim, and songs made famous by Barbra Streisand and Linda Rondstadt.
Wendy talked about her life, and wove in the songs in between. She told a story about how early in her career she considered the stage name Wendy Sheridan, and how ever since her brother-in-law, Howard, would tease her saying: "What would Wendy Sheridan do?" Apparently, Wendy Sheridan is a fearless performer, who tells funny stories, and sings beautifully.
For me, the highlights were a performance of "I can't make you love me," a song made famous by Bonnie Raitt. She made it deeply, credibly, her own. The other amazing moment came in the encore when Wendy sang Billy Joel's "Lullabye: Goodnight my angel," to her daughter, Lauren.
All in all, it was a triumph! [By the way, in case you missed it, that's the pull quote for the ads, "A TRIUMPH!" says Tom Teicholz, Tommwyood.com"
For one night, I felt transported back to cafe society, to a world of songs and singers, to a night at the Cafe Carlyle.
I have no doubt that Wendy will be singing there soon.
As reported in The New York Times and by Cynthia Turner's Cynopsis (see quote below), Amazon has purchased Audible for $300 Million.
Amazon acquired spoken word digital audio company Audible for $300 million, adding a potential new content provider for its Kindle digital book device. Audible has compiled a catalog of over 80,000 digital programs from famous authors and more than 520 content partners including The New York Times, The New Yorker, Fresh Air and Charlie Rose. Audible.com, a big iTunes supplier, offers programs a la carte or through a monthly or annual subscription plan.
There are no comment by Amazon or Audible on how the deal came in to being. However, I can report that Jeff Bezos of Amazon and Donald Katz of Audible attended the recent EG conference (Entertainment Gathering) at the Getty, as did I. As is the nature of such conferences there is a lot of casual talk between presentations. At one moment, after I had been part of a group talking with Bezos, I saw Katz turn to him, and say "should we talk about Audible?" and pull him aside.
The rest, as they say, is this morning's news.
Donald Katz, as some of you may remember, was a successful magazine journalist (Rolling Stone, Esquire) and book author. I recall meeting him at some Esquire event in the late 1980s. Anyhow, at some point, he was writing a story about the digitization of spoken word and the opportunities on the horizon, when he thought -- this could be a business! Tired of not really writing what he wanted to write the way he wanted to write it (Ah, the editing process!) he decided to give business a try. The result was Audible.com
As a sidenote, Katz told a funny story at EG. He attended the recent gathering in San Francisco of original contributors to Rolling Stone, on the occasion of the 40th anniversary of the magazine. They held an informal contest for who had sold out the most. He was high on the list. However, Jann Wenner won.
Amazon acquired spoken word digital audio company Audible for $300 million, adding a potential new content provider for its Kindle digital book device. Audible has compiled a catalog of over 80,000 digital programs from famous authors and more than 520 content partners including The New York Times, The New Yorker, Fresh Air and Charlie Rose. Audible.com, a big iTunes supplier, offers programs a la carte or through a monthly or annual subscription plan.
There are no comment by Amazon or Audible on how the deal came in to being. However, I can report that Jeff Bezos of Amazon and Donald Katz of Audible attended the recent EG conference (Entertainment Gathering) at the Getty, as did I. As is the nature of such conferences there is a lot of casual talk between presentations. At one moment, after I had been part of a group talking with Bezos, I saw Katz turn to him, and say "should we talk about Audible?" and pull him aside.
The rest, as they say, is this morning's news.
Donald Katz, as some of you may remember, was a successful magazine journalist (Rolling Stone, Esquire) and book author. I recall meeting him at some Esquire event in the late 1980s. Anyhow, at some point, he was writing a story about the digitization of spoken word and the opportunities on the horizon, when he thought -- this could be a business! Tired of not really writing what he wanted to write the way he wanted to write it (Ah, the editing process!) he decided to give business a try. The result was Audible.com
As a sidenote, Katz told a funny story at EG. He attended the recent gathering in San Francisco of original contributors to Rolling Stone, on the occasion of the 40th anniversary of the magazine. They held an informal contest for who had sold out the most. He was high on the list. However, Jann Wenner won.
Last night, the Kodak Theater in Hollywood was the site for the Democratic Presidential debate. Hollywood Boulevard was closed between Highland and Orange Avenue. There was quite a scene outside. CNN had set up a large operation and there were many protesters mostly against the War in Iraq. The picture below was taken from my cellphone by uber-producer Charles Newirth (he even produced this photo!) with the El Capitan Theater in the background preparing to show the Hannah Montana in 3-D movie.
The whole scene reminded me of cutting classes in high school to go to Anti-War protests
The whole scene reminded me of cutting classes in high school to go to Anti-War protests
They were also broadcasting the debate on a giant screen in the Hollywood and Highland mall -- which is where I'm going to go next time if they hold any more debates here in CA. Everyone had been scared off by reports of traffic and the street being closed off, but it was a friendly scene and not too crowded (or scary).
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