at the opera

"Platee"

Laurent Pelly makes an enchantd romp of the Rameau. & in the title role -- one of the classic drag parts -- Jean-Paul Fouchecourt is memorable.

how splendid that an opera that premierd in 1745 is still eliciting cheers.

Regina's

here.

so the marathon is
on.

one opera down
("Cosi Fan Tutte" done as a 1950s sitcom)
3 to go.

5 hours sleep last nite.

off to Madrid for the morning...

masters pass

Bergman & Antonioni

afternoon storm

shut down computer

turnd off electricity

filld gopher holes

musical visitors in town

HK Gruber


Sonny Rollins

speaking of The Arcade

Regina arrives for her annual opera visit in 2 days. so I'm in the final stages of housecleaning. in the process I discoverd a cache of unorganizd snapshots (remember pre-digitial?). this one is of that great Cleveland landmark. if you squint you'll see me in my room above the sign. (& before you go there Vera -- that's a lampshade   not a hat.)

Cleveland rocks

my 1st favorite city was featurd on the "Early Show" just now. there was Les Roberts in the Arcade. & Laura Taxel talking abt pierogies. coverage of West Side Market & Sokolowski's. the magnificent Terminal Tower. & of course the Rock 'n Roll Hall of Fame.

chamber music festival

best bargain in town is the noon concert. timeless music presentd by world-class musicians. today it was the extraordinary Zuill Bailey performing Beethoven's "Cello Sonata No. 3 in A Major."

suicide

understandable -- but always shocking.

first there was Jerry Hadley who I'd heard sing Jay Gatsby.

now Theresa Duncan & Jeremy Blake.

from the archives

with P. Craig Russell

The X Bolex

I've mentiond young Cleveland composer Nate Scheible before. I wrote some words for him for his current project. he just sent me the CD. I haven't had time to listen to the whole thing yet but of course immediately playd "my" pieces. the one which is pure autobiography is esp poignant to me. here are the words:

CHURCH

I don’t remember
when we had to go to church
but it was late
& the service
lastd forever

the cousins had to try hard
not to laugh
when the old man
in the choir
sang so low
the pews shook

the littlest cousin
fell asleep

power outage

Qwest faild again. since I had no internet this ayem &nsbsp; I went to town early. took another look at New Mexico paintings of Hartley & Sloan before imbibing in Mozart.

Laszlo Kovacs (1933-2007)

just months ago we chattd abt his surname which approximates my mother's.

fallen angels

Dominick Dunne informs us that Lana Clarkson & that weird music man on trial for her murder were watching "Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye" in the backseat of a Mercedes on the final nite of her life.

why does this tidbit tantalize me. because it's an intersection of tragic Hollywood lives. the leading lady of that film noir was Barbara Payton who went from stardom to the depths in her short life. Payton fascinates me. Clarkson less so but only because I don't know her work. I've seen some of the films in which she had bits but with no memory of her. I did come across her grave on my last visit to Hollywood Forever.

maybe only my tinseltown-soakd mind wd add to the stew Lana Turner. one presumes Clarkson was named for the MGM star who was involvd in one of the most famous Hollywood murders. Turner lost her virginity to playboy lawyer Greg Bautzer who later was engagd to Payton.

Hollywood after all is a small town.

high drama

when my next door neighbor's roof caught fire shortly after the deluge I presumd it was a lightning strike. when I learnd it was causd by a gas leak I was too afraid to sleep.

monsoon season arrives

I was an hour into a movie when the storm hit. it knockd out satellite so I turnd off the tv & went out to the back portal. I was there less than 30 seconds when a lightning bolt struck so close to the house that the concrete beneath me shook & there was a burnt smell in the wet air. I dashd inside   tintinabulous aftershocks surrounding my whole body. the rain became torrential   flooding my patio. then I cd hear the roar. Arroyo Chamisa once more became a river.

after an hour of hard rain   we're in a lull. but I can still hear my temporary river.

my ears aren't pretty

but they are acute.

cdn't get to sleep last nite. kept hearing something. I presume it was a bug.

Tom & I

at my retirement party 14 years ago

h.b. T. B.

today is Tom Beckett's birthday. I can think of no better present you can give him than to purchase a copy of Unprotected Texts. altho I'm familiar with much of the work in this collection   encountering them afresh is an infusion of oxygen. Tom wd blush if I sd many of his poems make me giddy. but he's one of the funniest poets out there. & he's one of the sexiest. he gets in yr underpants & won't move out. but he's also a serious artist & a thinker who makes his readers think.

let me offer a quick quote:

Seldom

used dildo.

I know. I'm lifting a few words from a long piece. but that's Beckett. the long piece is a castle made of many rooms. & this one deserves a reservation. I cd write reams abt it.

anyway Tom... I'm sorry we were unable to connect during my few hours in Kent. I love to laugh with you.

just remember yr age & don't spit on the cake when you blow out the candles.

what a dame

Joe.My.God. alertd us to the hot new Shirley Bassey video on You Tube.


here I am with her in Beverly Hills in 1992 when we both had more hair.

Emmy noms

competing for Best Song are "Dick in a Box" & "Guy Love."

"check out her gams"

it's taking me a while to catch up on blogs. Richard Lopez postd his poem "pulp noir" just as I was winging to Ohio (tues 10 july).

I'm honord   my friend.

better late than

after 37 years of neglect Kent State University has finally erectd a sign at the site of Robert Smithson's "Partially Buried Woodshed."

time with Dad

after 34 busy hours in Kent   David drove me to Elyria. the purpose of this trip was to celebrate my father's 89th birthday. it's still more than a week away but I'm unable to be there for the actual day so we did an early party.

I made the mistake of asking Dad if he had any projects for me. welllllllllllll   a branch from the huge maple in the backyard crashd onto the roof of the greenhouse which he built as an attachment to the house years ago. sounds like easy work. it took 2 days. I'm an acrophobe. so there I was on a ladder trying to extract a sheet of broken glass which had been well-puttied for eons. & the hardest part was lifting a heavy awkward new piece of glass up the ladder & into place.

the actual celebration was a small family affair. Mom askd Julia Ally to use a garden vegetable motif for one of her famous cakes.

past & present

rather than bore or irritate you with an explanation of all my hours spent in Chicago Midway on both ends of the trip I'll go straight to Kent.

David Meredith pickd me up at the airport & after 3 hours sleep I spent a day researching in Special Collections at KSUL. among the things squirreld away in my papers were a set of photographs actor Kevin McCarthy took in my Twin Lakes home in 1976. here's one of me in the livingroom:



from work I went directly to a lovely little party Alfred Cavaretta threw me on his porch.



here he's serving hors d'oeuvres to watercolorist Henry Walker   sculptor Brinsley Tyrrell   weaver Lillian Tyrrell & poet Maggie Anderson.

flying sucks

l-o-n-g weather delays
going out
AND
returning

back to Ohio

where Dad will turn 89...

strange doings

we're not getting that heat wave here but the electricity went off briefly this morning & my computer turnd itself off this afternoon.

so when I think

abt how hot it is in Phoenix I think first of Charles Jensen. I've never met Charles Jensen. but I've read him. both as poet & as blogger. & we've correspond'd. so it seems natural that when the news tells me it's hot in Phoenix I think abt Charles Jensen.

when given sevens

heel against wood. this is a sauna. so wood is hot. heel becomes hot. no one else there. no one to feel my heat. I have been hot alone before. I have been so hot the mind begins to drift. there is a beginning to a serial poem in that drift. there is a joy to know the heat creates a word the heart hasn't met. the word enters my heel. I will tell no one. when the word swims to my mouth I will spit it into the shower. the cold shower that ends the hour. if it sinks into the drain I will forget as I towel my parts. but if it sticks to a toenail I'll bring it home.

sometimes poems come from shaking my feet. but I don't reveal that to professors. if they knew that they'd wire me requests to lick my feet. I'm getting old. I can't hold joy in buckets anymore.

Mr & Mrs Arnoldi

to open Charlotte Jackson's Project Space today Charles Arnoldi showd some of his arc paintings



Katie Arnoldi awaits publication of her second novel

dead letter

Guy Davenport died a year & a half ago but I got an e-mail from him yesterday.

it turnd out to be spam. where do they find these names? are there robots reading my blog to discover words to send me?

#1000

I remember approaching my toothbrush with the consideration of joining that horde of blogging poets.

that was written on 10 nov 04: part of my first entry. & here we are at the thousandth.

it's been a trip...

pancakes on the plaza

Roberto Marquez with the Century Dimes

"Altered Books"

Silliman's mention today of Dan Waber's project remind'd me of one of my scarcest titles.



mine may be the only surviving copy of a xerox edition I did nearly 30 years ago. some time after putting out Three Stories in an edition of 100 I took 3 pages of that book & blackd out most of the text to make a trio of poems for an actor friend.



unfortunately this copy is too small to be readable. but you get the idea.

coincidence?

shortly after posting my last entry someone from Department of Justice visitd my site.

if they return: Gonzales is a prick too.

no jail for Scooter

President Worst Ever has done it again.

what a sad sad time this is.

over the weekend

I sat with John Ericson & wife for a screening of Sam Fuller's "Forty Guns." hard to believe it's been 50 years since its original release. it's one of the few times in his career that John got to play nasty (he shoots Hank Worden for crissakes) & he loved it.

bird brain

when I got home from the cinemateque just past 10 last nite a bird flew into the house. I opend all the doors & askd it to leave. 3 and a half hours later it flew out. in the inbetween time I wore myself out. I tried to nudge it out with a broom. I had no intention of hurting it. I just wantd it out so I cd go to bed. I tried a larger expanse of a sheet. I know the bird was scared. that's why it kept shitting all over the place. it simply wdn't exit. it flew from the top of the frame on the Joe O'Sickey across the livingroom to the Richard Larson & back to the Mary Ann Begland. I was certain it'd shit on a painting & became crosser & crosser. at times it perchd on the door   inches from outside but didn't have the intelligence to fly out. I guess I finally wore it out shortly before it did me in. it was abt 2 by the time I hit the pillows. I had to get up early for breakfast with neighbors.

if this day wasn't made for a nap none has been.

so many memories

my discussion with Maria Parkes brought back so many names: Elmer Novotny   Jon Kitner   Greg Harrison   Bob Wick. she sd that she studied jewelrymaking with the wonderful Mary Ann Scherr. that made me remember this photograph.

I think Doug Moore took it outside Merrill Hall. that ring was a Scherr creation. it had my first name as part of the design. what you see is the "e." & I recall ever so fondly that suit. it was brown with black pin stripes. I bought it on 8th St in the Village. long after it had gone out of style I kept it in a closet & finally donated it to Kent State's costume museum. in fact before I moved west I also donatd the Scherr ring. it wd be a hoot to see them exhibitd together there with this photo some day.

"Red Griffin"

I bought this painting in 1968 for $50. it was part of the Kent State masters thesis exhibition of Michael Parkes. currently it hangs in my bedroom so I see it everyday.

for most of the nearly 40 years I've lived with this painting I didn't know what had become of its creator. Michael drove into Kent on a motorcycle   wow'd the ladies &  made some good paintings   then disappeard. then some years ago Alicia Metcalf Miller gave me an article abt him in one of those expensive design mags. it sd he lived in Spain & was the world's most famous Magic Realist.

yesterday he had an opening right here in town & I went. I remind'd him of the painting which he didn't remember. I also suggestd that I probably was the first person to publish him. his seriograph "Six" (which is now on the wall of my guest room) appeard in the Winter 1968 issue of Toucan. it depicts a naked lady riding some sort of beast.



Michael sat down to sign posters & books. so I startd a conversation with his beautiful wife Maria. turns out they met in Kent where she was the roommate of printmaker Peggy Freemon (whose work also appeard in Toucan). as I steppd back so that others cd chat with her a woman in red came up. I cd see from a distance that they were having quite the lively discussion. in a bit they both came over to me. Maria sd that when they returnd to the States for openings they never encounter people from their Kent past. but this time there were 2. it turns out that the woman in red was a local artist by the name of Dona Calles. & that she'd been Michael's girlfriend before Maria.

plumot
quel surprise
a new fruit

Nature put on

quite the show last evening. I don't recall ever having seen a rainbow at 8:30 at nite nor have I seen a rainbow & lightning share the same sky.

later I settld on the blue swing wrappd in my Lorain County throw & enjoyd a long & spectacular light show.

Angelique Kidjo returns

so I'm watching "Bride of the Gorilla"

it's a fun film. its star isn't much of an actress but Barbara Payton is a looker. & if you know her short sad history yr mind will wander. it's been sd that her dressing room saw more action than was capturd by the camera. apparently she was boffing co-star Tom Conway on days when she wasn't juggling Franchot Tone & Tom Neal. & in the cast is a tall hot handsome man by the name of Woody Strode with whom she also had an affair.

scuttlebutt is that a biopic is in the works. her story lends itself to either tragedy of Greek proportion or melodrama as sleazy as the headlines on celebrity news shows. I can't wait.

"Bong Hits 4 Jesus"

I have this awful feeling that as diastrous as the Iraq war is that the real legacy of shame from this administration will be the Roberts Court.

ukanhavyrfuckincitibak

in my copy of that legendary book I wrote my name & the date "jan 68." Tom Kryss thinks I may have a "pre-publication copy." & I suspect d.a. levy may have given me my copy when he visitd Kent that month.

there were 1000 copies printd & it's become a scare item. but there's good news. Russell Salamon just brought out a facsimile edition of 400. it's as identical to the original as one cd have. & he's add'd some bibliographical information & glossary.

this is a must purchase for anyone interestd in levy or '60s underground lit or Cleveland. to get yr copy write to Russell at "thesalamons@earthlink.net."

at the movies

before he left John told me I had to blog abt "La Vie En Rose." we saw it this afternoon at the college.

it's a beautiful film. go see it.

houseguest

John Grimes is visiting from Boston. we spent the day in Taos. here he's with an elegant salad at El Monte Sagrado.

first day of summer

more Mr. Johnson

after writing the last entry I rememberd an article which appeard in the Elyria paper many years ago. I was able to locate it in my files & was abt to post it here when I got an e from his daughter Judith. she wrote "I have been going through dad's files looking for clippings and photos for a memory board. One of the few I found in his desk is a CT article about his work with boys who collect stamps. You are standing next to him in the photo, at age 11." I love those moments of synchronicity.

P. F. Johnson (1914-2007)

Mom calld early this morning to tell me of the death of Mr. Johnson.

when I was a boy I was a member of the YMCA. it was a wonderful environment where I swam & went to bean lunches. the only adult I remember from that critical learning age was Mr. Johnson. he was a kind soft-spoken man. I no longer recall his title. but I presume he was in charge of "activities." & he was the one who got me startd collecting stamps. his specialty was first day covers. so at age 11 I began collecting them too. here's one for the 1956 stamp commemorating the home of James Buchanan:



I like that he used his return address & wrote my address by hand. a lovely linking. in fact the last time I saw his daughter Judith I gaver her one of those old first day covers as a souvenir of that priceless time of my life.

& in summers Mr. Johnson workd at Camp Iss See Kes. going to this Y camp was a highlight of my pre-teen summers. somewhere I still have a set of nature prints I did under his tutelage.

I hope there are still Mr. Johnsons out there opening worlds up to the young.

over hummus talk turnd to murder

yes it was dinner with Todd Moore. sometime during a visit from him the talk always turns to murder. he's the author of Dillinger with a new book coming out on Billy the Kid. & I have a fascination with the Black Dahlia case.

tonite we discussd why certain murders are more compelling than others. 2 of the most important elements are if the victim is young & attractive (Elizabeth Short or JFK) or if the case remains unsolvd (the Jack the Ripper murders & again the Black Dahlia).

back to the gym

somewhere between Bellagio Buffet & Hash House A GoGo I began to resemble Rosie O'Donnell so it was good to work out again this morning.

& now excuse me while I prepare a salad . . .

"O"
no show
so flow go

Marta Becket

on the edge of Death Valley an old woman lives alone in a rambling house full of her paintings. the only sounds are the cackles of peacocks who reside in a series of abandonnd adobe buildings nearby.

the woman walks the short walk to Amargosa Opera House. the walls are coverd with her paintings. for years the woman has been putting on costumes she makes herself to perform a show of her creation for people who come from all over the world just to see her.

Marta Becket is a legend. her age is a secret (altho we do know that she first appeard on Broadway in 1946). a recent fall has slowd her but she still can kick.

I first saw Marta perform in Death Valley Junction in 1983. my old friend Tom & I joind Garold Gardner & some of his dancer friends for the trip.

here Lloyd Pauze & some of "the boys" lift her.

a year or so ago a prize-winning documentary abt Marta made me want to see her again. my old friend Tom is dead but Garold still lives in Las Vegas & visits Marta. so Sal & Regina & I drove out to the desert where we found her kicking indeed.



Frank Piper -- who lives in nearby Pahrump -- joind us & after a tour of the opera house we were off to a casino in Amargosa Valley Junction for dinner. even there several of Marta's fans stoppd by the table to wish her well.

if you haven't seen the film   look for it. Marta Becket deserves to be calld a legend.

Valley of Fire

true colors

Darryl has already coverd the nite. let me just add how smitten I was with Dresden Dolls. they were the only performers who made themselves available to fans by appearing at a table to meet & greet. they were followd on stage by Indigo Girls who were less than thrilling so I slippd out to get a close-up of the pair. Brian was sitting there in nothing but shorts & make-up.

I look forward to years of enjoyment from these 2.

eating well in Las Vegas

the cousins at Picasso



farewell breakfast at Hash House A GoGo

happy birthday Sal

my cousin turns 60 in a few days. so Regina & I are treating him to a week in Las Vegas.

while I'm away   check the blog of my Vegas buddy Darryl Grimm. he mite reflect on the neon glow of our conversation.

"one of the legendary tricks"

that's how Patrick McGilligan labels Robert Seiter in his George Cukor bio.

he was the brother of director William Seiter. his acting career lastd from 1925-1949. he then became a film editor &nsbp; working primarily in television. but he's best rememberd today for his looks & sexual prowess.

last nite I saw Seiter -- using the name Robert Manning -- in "The Sign of the Cross" (1932). a looker indeed. McGilligan writes that after Cukor was done with the young actor   Seiter took up with wealthy Alex Tiers   a former Cukor roommate & pal of Gloria Swanson. other sources mention a relationship with character actor Grady Sutton.

but I don't think anyone's written abt Seiter's romance with Shannon Rodgers. he was a costume designer at Paramount in the '30s. years later in New York he was a popular designer of women's clothes   designing for Miss Americas & First Ladies. Shannon also did the gown Joan Crawford wore to Truman Capote's black & white ball.

Shannon was in his late 70s when he told me abt Seiter. he seemd like a young man again remembering the beauty of his former companion.

our opera season

is beginning with a Donizetti confection calld "The Night Bell." it's being performd in the lovely theater at Scottish Rite Temple. the lead is well sung by Sean Anderson.

what I like

abt the Palm Springs Film Noir Festival is its intimacy & its eccentricity.

it's intimate because there is only one showing at a time & in the same place. you actually get to meet people -- like Roberta & Mort who have become my filmgoing buddies. & the guests are just like everyone else. they hang out. I was able to remind John Saxon abt meeting him with my mother in Cleveland a century ago. I chattd with Kathleen Hughes abt her long friendship with Marie Windsor.

it's eccentric because its director Art Lyons is. I don't agree with his notion of film noir. in fact many of the films he shows aren't noir at all. but he does have an eye for the forgotten or out of the way. where else cd one see such a gem as "Port of 40 Thieves"   a 1944 Poverty Row production which may be the first movie abt a female serial killer. & even when the films are less than stellar there are some wonderful moments -- like William Reynolds in drag in "No Questions Asked." & then there was "Bewitched" (no relation to the recent bomb)whose star was never seen: we only hear Audrey Totter in the first year of her film career but she still walks away with the picture.

at the festival

Rhonda Fleming





Richard Anderson



Carroll Baker & John Saxon



Warren Stevens

dark cinema

I'm heading to the California desert for the film noir festival.

while I'm gone check the blogs of my Palm Springs pals Kimberly Nichols & Izayah Jeffrey. they just mite tell you something abt what I'm doing there.

movie meals

(excerpts from Alex in Movieland)

1970
    nov
dines on Steak Buster Keaton at Tin Lizzie in NYC with his mother

1994
    oct
checks into El Rancho in Gallup where he lunches on Carmen Miranda Hot Tamale Plate

2004
    oct
lunches on Cool Hand Luke salad at Talkies in Cleveland

2006
    apr
dines on Eastwood Scowl Pizza at Pecos Trail Pizzeria with Phil Andrews & Rita Wood

strawberries. check.

but I'm thinking
blueberries too.

yucca

the Duke's centennial

the only time I ever saw John Wayne he didn't look good. it was 15 months before his death & he was wearing a bad toupee. the occasion was presentation of AFI's lifetime achievement award to Henry Fonda.

I was making a beeline to Barbara Stanwyck who has always been one of my cinema goddesses. by the time I got near her someone else approachd. it was the sexy young man who appeard opposite her in one of her great early films "Baby Face." altho they were both 26 when that was made   Stanwyck already seemd older.

I didn't get close enough to eavesdrop on their conversation but even from a distance it was evident that there was affection between the two stars. as soon as Wayne left I introducd myself to Stanwyck.

& so today is Wayne's 100th birthday & in abt 7 weeks I'll celebrate Stanwyck's centennial.

let's
hear it
for the bird

that
shat on
President Worst Ever

everything old is new again

the Amish jacket I'm wearing in that ancient photo with Gary Snyder is the same one I wore to the Lensic the nite before to hear Buddy Guy. it was raining when I left the house for the GS appearance at the same theater so I wore my slicker instead that nite.

as Snyder was reading Kerouac's "San Francisco Blues" my mind flashd back 24 hours when I was sitting just 3 seats away listening to other blues. & then I suddenly realizd the jacket connection.

more Snyder

he calld Rexroth "a terrible man" who once labeld Marianne Moore a fascist. Whalen in the final years was "cranky." & Neal Cassady was a non-stop talker: "I cdn't stand Neal after the first 5 hours."

there was such a mob waiting to connect with Snyder in the theater lobby after his appearance that I didn't try to talk with him. I doubt he'd remember me. we met at the Kent State library late in 1969. when he came to my house for dinner much of our conversation was abt d.a. levy. that was the basis for my asking him to write something for the levy issue of The Serif. his "The Dharma Eye of d.a. levy" became an early landmark in the appreciation of the Cleveland poet.

it felt like an historic nite

for the past several weeks the original manuscript of On the Road
has been lying in state at the Palace of the Governors. museum officials put together several events marking the occasion. the final one was an appearance by Gary Snyder.

of course Snyder has talkd & written abt Jack Kerouac before. but I'm not sure there has ever been an evening like this. Snyder   the teacher   the entertainer   the poet   speaking with affection abt a long dead friend & reading work by both of them.

after relating the familiar facts of their meeting   Snyder read poems they both wrote while living together in Marin County in spring 1956.

when he read some of his Han Shan translations I was particularly moved. in my life as a rare books curator one of our treasures was the magnificent manuscript of that work.

Snyder calld On the Road Kerouac's best piece of prose even tho it's "not a perfect novel in the way Maggie Cassidy is." he sd Dr.Sax is "like a Japanese animation movie." & then he talkd abt Dharma Bums. it's "not my favorite Kerouac novel" & "not a roman a clef." altho some of it is based on actual events that happend between the 2 writers Snyder feels it is "much fictional."

overall Snyder praisd Kerouac for having "a gift for language" & that as a writer he is "one of the very best."

Buddy Guy's back in town

another vintage photo of my father

in this difficult summer of his life Dad is constantly in my mind.

Dad the hunk

Ginastera

our local symphony performd his "Estancia" pieces this afternoon. it was exactly the robust kind of music for which I was in the mood.

fragment of "Alex in Movieland"

"Collateral Damage"

that's the title of new work by Henry Van Dyke in the current Antioch Review. it's the kind of delicious fiction that one expects from HVD.

Tom Tube

from The Continental Review

down

a blackout in town last nite took down my internet with it. luckily a good chunk of the 16 hours it was down I was asleep. but it's amazing how odd it is to not have the net right there.

later I found out the reason for the power outage. a tagger -- not too bright these kids -- tried to put graffiti on a power station & got fried.

the mechanics of the dream

& now: when I awake I no longer leap from bed to begin my day. I consider the nite journey. where I was & what happend there.

this morning my body turnd as often as my mind. naked on flannel sheets. tossing limbs as rapidly as cogitation. I considerd – what? elements of the dream?

before the inevitability of coffee I cornerd a pair of elements. first: repetition. since childhood themes & images have been recurring in my nite journeys. second: morphing. often one person inexplicably beomes another   one thing turns into another thing.

here is an example. one of the recent recurring images in my dreams is a coffee pot. a big batterd coffee pot. the kind Gabby Hayes stood watch over in dozens of cheap westerns. the pot remains a prop but a familiar one a comfortable one. but without warning the dents of that pot have turnd into the abrasions on a beloved book cover.

Horst

this photo hangs in my guest bathroom. it's a production shot from Bobby Lewis' 1959 staging of Colette's "Cheri." the hottie in bed is Horst Buchholz   the loving lady is Kim Stanley.

last nite I saw a documentary   "Horst Buchholz, My Papa." the Broadway show wasn't mentiond. neither were several of the German actor's most famous films. but it's made by his son Christopher. so there was access to the actor & his family which other filmmakers mite not have.

the saddest part of the film is footage taken shortly before his death. we see a beauty who has outlived his beauty   an actor who no longer acts &nsbp; an alcoholic who still drinks & smokes. juxtaposed against that footage are stunning moments from his youth. the bisexual actor was striking on screen.

seeing this makes me want to view his early work.

poets' blog of dreams

Lynn Behrendt askd permission to reprint my Marilyn dream entry in the Annandale Dream Gazette. when I wrote back I mentiond another dream & it's on there as well.

a story for the day

today is Mothers Day & Bea Arthur's 85th birthday. which reminds me of a story...

it was 1999. a party for those appearing in my production "Live at the Opera." I introducd Bea who was emcee of the show to Rufus Wainwright. he immediately told her abt the lyric which I believe he wrote at Chateau Marmont abt Bea being his grandmother. she didn't look amusd.

we'd put Bea up in the guest house of some rich folks who lived near the opera but they weren't home. there was one of Santa Fe's wildly beautiful storms that nite & that apparently spookd the golden girl. so the next day Rufus gave up his suite at Inn of the Turquoise Bear in town to Miss Arthur who was so happy she forgave her "grandson." Rufus took the smallest room at the inn.

sun tea

yes. I've heard the warnings that it isn't good for one. shit. if all those years of rum & coke didn't kill me   do you really think I'm gonna worry abt sun tea?

this is still brewing. first of the season. & of course I have a ritual. I always brew it in an antique jar from my mother. it was made in Slough England for Horlick's Malted Milk of Racine WI. when the tea is ready I pour it into an antique green glass pitcher -- also from Mom.

fire on Catalina

it seems we're experiencing a weather emergency every week. the Kansas tornado was devastating. & now this magical island. I haven't been there in 6 years but hope to return one day.

flocking together

my quail have returnd early. yesterday they even came onto the back portal.

& I have doves returning as well.

20 years ago

photo by Robert Peters

Marilyn on my mind

that I woke dreaming of Marilyn Monroe shd be no surprise. one of the last things I did before hitting the pillows last nite was to finish proofing a 1985 article I wrote abt the Marilyn paperdoll for a new manuscript I'm putting together.

double GS

birthday greetings to Gary Snyder & George Smullen

marketing movie stars

I've long known abt cigaret trading cards. these were cards featuring cinema favorites which were insertd in cigaret packs years ago. only this ayem while flitting abt the net I discoverd that at one time Murillo featurd movie stars on its cigar bands.

between
pesto gnocci
& the sun

I
tried to
find a poem

can't stand it

yesterday I wore shorts to walk to the gym.

right now it's snowing . . .

"does anyone still wear a hat?"

when QE2 (the person not the vessel) arrivd in Virginia yesterday I thought of that Sondheim lyric. today one rarely sees an American woman wear a hat while the Brits delight in the custom. the queen had quite the creation on but it suits her. unlike that poor frump Mrs. Parker-Bowles who always wears the silliest millinery.

of course there was a time when American ladies wdn't be caught out on the town without a chapeau. just look at yr family albums. in fact that's where I found this period shot of my mother (on the right) with her sister Sophie.

Betty Grable lives

I was startld to see a full page picture of my first favorite movie star in our local alternative paper. the 1950s shot of Grable was for an ad for a local women's day spa.

Grable -- calld "the girl with the million dollar legs" -- was the number one pin-up in WW2. she made her final film in 1955 & died in 1973 at the age of 57.

I still remember seeing her on stage for the first time. it was 40 years ago & she'd taken over the lead in "Hello Dolly" on Broadway. at one point she liftd her skirt to show off those famous legs & the audience went wild.

altho there have been 3 bios of the woman who was once Hollywood's top box office draw   Grable's fame isn't at the level of her replacement at 20th Century Fox -- Marilyn Monroe. but for her remaining fan base there's good news: Scarlett Johansson may play her in a biopic.

another Tarzan is dead

reports are that Gordon Scott died penniless.

just say no

in his comment on the last post Craig Highberger mentions the divine Eartha Kitt & her "confrontation" with another First Lady during another unpopular war.

here's something I wrote in February 03:

12 feb 03
(Poets Against the War Day)

do I do
as Shrub sez

buy a gas mask
duct tape & plastic
3 days of food

no I dance
naked while
Eartha Kitt sings
"Arabian Song"

knowing neither
she nor I
will be invitd
to this White House

hooooorah for Sharon Olds

the poet was invitd to dine at the White House. she wrote to the First Lady why she was refusing the invitation. her letter ends: So many Americans who had felt pride in our country now feel anguish and shame, for the current regime of blood, wounds and fire. I thought of the clean linens at your table, the shining knives and the flames of the candles, and I could not stomach it.