s'Newz

...an occasional series of stories which recently caught my eye...

Jeremy Piven claims he was having a bit of fun with the interviewer the other week. Did you hear the story? He claimed he was developing breasts due to his intake of soy milk, and the interviewer swallowed the story. Piven's comment, "It was a very confusing time" seems to me to be the give-away that indeed, he was making a joke. But after all this guy went through in the past year, blaming his desertion of his Broadway show on all the sushi he had been eating, he ought to know better. Just shut up about your diet, dude. But I guess you can't fault the guy for wanting to blame some outside force for his current doughy appearance:
Elaine Stritch is coming back to the Cafe Carlyle with a new cabaret show in January. She's calling it Elaine Stritch Singin’ Sondheim…One Song at a Time. Not quite sure what the "one song at a time" signifies...how do you sing two songs at a time? Anyway, Stritch is one of my favorites, as I've written previously, and at the grand age of 84, she's tackling a new project. As she puts it, “I perform the best when I do something that scares the shit out of me. And what could be more scary than learning nine or ten Steve Sondheim songs? ‘Ladies Who Lunch’ almost put me in intensive care, for God’s sake.”
Stritch is not everyone's cup of tea (or more appropriately, snifter of brandy), and it's difficult to explain her appeal, particularly when she is singing. No one can claim she's a slave to the notes; she's more likely to slide off the melody than hold it for its entirety. But she's received acclaim for her musical performances in Sail Away, Company, Show Boat, and her Tony-winning one-woman show. The Emmy crowd loves her; she won for a guest shot in the early years of Law and Order and again recently, as Alec Baldwin's mother on 30 Rock. At her age, most legends would be avoiding the stress of performing onstage. If the show is successful, I wonder if we may be treated to another evening of our Elaine on Broadway...

I got a kick out of this picture that was making the rounds last week. Here is what lawmakers are concerned with during important debates in the Connecticut legislature:

Catholic Guilt

It was quite a while after I moved into my condo in DC that I started to notice them. I was so used to seeing them on the streets of Capitol Hill that, for many months, I simply drove past. It doesn't put me in a very complimentary light, I know, but after 20 years in L.A. (where they would pounce on you at the bottom of every freeway off-ramp) and 4 years living in a basement apt off Pennsylvania Avenue (where they would actually trot down the stairs and knock on the front door), I was pretty much immune to the sight of those poor souls, the homeless.

Once I moved to the condo, I started passing a group of homeless folks gathered across the street from the 3rd Street tunnel, where I would escape the Hill for points south. Well, "gathered" isn't the right word; these people were in line. During the day, there may be only a handful, but late in the afternoon, the line would usually stretch all the way down the block and around the corner. It was on one of those days when I suddenly realized that all of the homeless people in this line were women.

They were waiting for 7 PM, when the doors would open at the John Young Homeless Shelter, which provides a bed for the night to homeless, single women. No men or children allowed. During the colder winter months, not everyone gets in, but for the lucky ladies who do, they have a safe bed in which to sleep. 12 hours later, at 7 AM, they are ejected from the building and the door is locked. Most of the women wander off for the day, to return to the line that afternoon, but there are always a handful who simply get back in line and start the 12 hour wait until the building opens again at 7 PM.

The John Young Homeless Shelter is one of several in DC run by the Catholic Church.

You know the Catholic Church, right? Those are the paragons of morality who perpetrated decades of child molestation by simply moving their pedophilic priests from parish to parish. They are also the gargantuan organization which owns acres of property in DC, and conducts all their business, and owns all their property, tax-free:

These virtuous souls have once again ignored the constitutional separation of church and state, and have taken issue with the upcoming vote to legalize same-sex marriage in the District of Columbia. The DC council will be voting shortly, and the measure looks likely to pass, which has the Catholics all hot, bothered, and ready to crusade.

The Church, you see, provides many social services for the city, like the homeless shelter in my neighborhood. For a fee. They receive, under contract, close to 20 million dollars a year to provide these services. They have announced they will no longer do so, if they are forced to offer marriage benefits to any gays on their staff. No, they will not be forced to perform marriages, or even be forced to provide space for marriages to take place. But they will be required, by law, to offer the same marriage benefits to all their secular employees. The janitor who sweeps the cathedral and the secretary who works in the office might be gay, and if so, their spouses must receive the same benefits as heterosexual couples.

The Church has issued, in effect, an ultimatum to the city government, in an attempt to derail the bill. Don't you love it when Organized Religion dabbles in Politics? Their claim that their beliefs will not allow them to offer gay couples the rights granted to them by law, rings a bit false, considering the Catholic Church continues to offer such services in Connecticut, Vermont, and Massachusetts, even after those states have begun allowing gay marriage. They have discontinued certain adoption programs in those states due to the new laws, but have not cut off other services.

It seems that in DC, they are attempting to affect political policy by extortion. The council plans a meeting with the Church to try to work out a compromise, though there seems little hope of one. Either the law is the law, or it isn't; certain organizations, whether religious or not, cannot be exempted simply because they disagree with it.

The contracts to provide these social services, as I stated, are worth millions and millions of dollars, and council members seem confident that other organizations would welcome the opportunity to get them. I bet they're right. And nobody has been able to explain why this guy should be allowed to influence the laws governing our country's capital city:

Meanwhile, those ladies who line up at the John Young Homeless Shelter, to get a safe bed for the night, are being used as pawns by the Catholic Church to further its religious agenda, an agenda which has no place in the city councilroom.

Friday Dance Party: Happy Anniversary

I can't believe it myself, but this silly Friday segment will be turning One tomorrow. It was 11/14/08 when I began presenting a weekly clip featuring some sort of dance. I swiped the idea from my buddy Larry, who presented dance clips on his personal blog for several months before giving up the ghost. I, however, can never let go of anything, so the Friday Dance Party continues in these pages.

The segment evolved rapidly into a place where I could showcase my favorite musical styles. While I have tried to always present a clip with some form of dance involved, I don't really keep to those parameters anymore. So, there are many clips from the past year which had very little, or even NO, dance in them. Whatever, it's my site. One of the most moving of those clips featuring no dance was this one, performed by the winner of that smash hit series, "Ukraine's Got Talent."

That clip is one of my favorites, as is the one featuring Kristin Chenoweth at the Boston Pops (that one has no dance in it, either, but lots of hilarious staging, and man, can that gal belt!). Probably my favorite clip of the year, though, features quite a bit of dancing: it's the sequence from the Tony Awards featuring Grand Hotel, and the late, great Michael Jeter stopping the show cold.

A lot of the clips from the past year have been from the musical stage, as I've grabbed clips from the Tony Awards or various film adaptations or the occasional TV version. Yes, back in the day, musicals were sometimes transplanted to TV with their original stars. Thus, we got a glimpse of Lauren Bacall's triumph in Applause, and Joel Grey's hoofing in George M!, as well as a TV adaptation of J.C.Superstar, just in time for Easter. There were some television stars represented, including a Designing Woman, a Disney cutie, and of course, The Monkees. Even a bubble-headed booby showed up. Not all the clips were meant as tribute; there were a couple which were so dreadful they had to be included. Whoever thought The Brady Bunch should morph into a variety show should have lost his job, and putting a disco number on The Lawrence Welk Show was just plain wrong (but you can't look away). There was even a TV commercial on the Dance Party, a very famous item starring Ann Miller (it's a real hoot, you should watch it).



But as I mentioned, most of the year's clips were from the Broadway stage. We saw everything from A to Z (or rather, A to X: Ain't Misbehavin' to Xanadu). The film versions of West Side Story and 1776 showed up, while the death of Natasha Richardson inspired this grainy clip from the Cabaret revival. When David Carradine went a little too far in that closet and died, I was reminded of his brother's performance in Will Rogers' Follies, and when Jonathan Pryce's birthday coincided with the big GM bailout, Miss Saigon landed. Though they were a bit grainy, I was excited by the clips from Pirates of Penzance and from the original A Chorus Line, because they were clearly filmed LIVE, in front of living, breathing audiences.



As I've spent the week reviewing the past year of Dance Parties, I'm dismayed to discover that several clips have been removed from YouTube due to copyright issues. So, clips from Gypsyand Gilligan's Island, among others, can no longer be accessed. When I have a few hours, I'll go on the hunt to replace them. (You can still click on those links to read what I had to say about those clips, you just can't actually watch them. sigh.)



The remainder of the clips were from the usual suspects, that is, from stars or programs where dancing is not unexpected. Gene Kelly partnered with Julie Andrews, and Fred Astaire partnered with Betty Hutton. There was no surprise when Judy Garland, Vera Ellen, Shirley Temple, Martha Raye, and Baryshnikov showed up, though the Steve Martin tap duet with Gregory Hines was pretty unexpected.

If you want to waste the weekend, you can find all 51 Dance Parties here, including the very first entry, which is quite cute. A year ago, I thought the clips would always feature unknown folks dancing, and while I quickly moved away from that concept, in honor of that first week, here is another amateur Dance Party. Aren't they adorable?

TV Droppings: thirtysomething, twentysomething years later

I'm currently slogging my way through season one of thirtysomething, which was released on DVD a few months ago. Well, maybe "slogging" is too tough a word, but I have to admit, I can watch only one episode at a time. This surprises me, as I remember the show very fondly, and have been awaiting its release with some eagerness.

This show is no Mad Men, which can be ripped through in a single weekend (I have written about that show before), and it is certainly no Slings and Arrows, which can be devoured in a single sitting. With thirtysomething, I'm not all that anxious to discover what happens next. The show was appointment television for me during its initial run, and now I am wondering if that was due to the fact that I was myself "thirtysomething" at the time. It was a bit of a groundbreaker, as it was a family drama without the family; it centered around 7 youngish adults who, in essence, became each other's family. Perhaps that was the aspect of the series which appealed to me the most, as I have done exactly that (choose my own family) throughout my life.

I'm having trouble finding any other reasons I was so enamored of the show. I certainly did not see myself in any of the core characters; my recollection is that it would be well into the show's run that David Marshall Grant would show up, as shy, offbeat artist Russell, who happens to be gay. More on him anon.

First seasons of shows are often the least cohesive, and thirtysomething is no exception. Though the performances are as I remember them, the writing has an archness which is not attractive to me today. I see now why, during its run, it was so often criticized as being "whiny," as the characters seem to be experts at making mundane problems life-threatening. The leading lady, Hope (Mel Harris), is almost unbearable in these episodes, as she complains about just about everything. When her mother (played by the spectacular Shirley Knight) comes to visit, and does nothing but attempt to help her daughter, she spins out of control.

I admit one of my favorite episodes of the whole series was one of these early ones, in which Hope and Michael attempt to have their first date night since their baby was born; cabaret artist Michael Feinstein provided the musical motif for this episode, which creatively used two actors (Lucy Webb and Timothy Stack) to portray a series of characters who spoil the evening. This was also the first appearance of therapist Dr. Nestle, played by Earl Boen in a recurring role, who shows up in a fantasy sequence dreamed up by Melanie Mayron's Melissa.

Those fantasy sequences were pretty unique back then, and provided the thirtysomething writers with some fun playthings. The Thanksgiving episode, for example, included a fine sequence when photo proofs of the gang came to life and commented on the action. I'm also enjoying the work of actor Terry Kinney, who has a recurring arc as the boss and boyfriend of career girl Ellyn (Polly Draper). I remember loving his work back then, and it was after his character was gone before I learned he was one of the Steppenwolf gang (I have been surprised that he did not achieve the fame his cohorts John Malkovich, Gary Sinise, and Laurie Metcalf did...I hope he's not bitter).

Well, I'm barely through the first half of the first season, and I know things will pick up. The show never really took off in the ratings, but became one of the first shows to survive due to its demographics, rather than its overall viewership. In future seasons, there will be some dark turns, including a nasty divorce, and a long story arc concerning breast cancer (from personal experience I can report that it is handled realistically). Those storylines will be anchored by Patricia Wettig as Nancy; she was the most Emmy'd of the cast, winning awards for her work three of the four years the series ran. When Michael and Elliot (Ken Olin and Timothy Busfield) abandon their own ad agency and sign on with a larger firm, we will meet one of the most memorable characters of the series, Miles Drentell (David Clennon), who makes Don Draper look like a pussycat.

The future will also include the single most controversial episode of the series. It may be the single most controversial episode of any series of the 1980s. It was in season three that David Marshall Grant's character, Russell, hooked up with Peter, played by Peter Frechette. They have a "morning after" scene in bed, which was apparently a television first. I remember the scene distinctly: the two guys are sitting up, side by side, not touching, barely even looking at each other. It was that awkward "where do we go from here" moment, one we have seen thousands of times played by straight couples. But because it was two men, the world exploded. Boycotts were threatened, and sponsors yanked commercials. ABC lost over a million dollars by broadcasting the episode, so it's little wonder they declined to rerun it, for fear of further controversy.

All that fun is in the future, though. For now, I will slowly make my way through season one of thirtysomething, and appreciate the fact that the show created a whole new word to describe people of a certain age.

Veterans Day

My dad is a veteran of World War II, but just barely. He enlisted in the army in the final months of the war, and was undergoing basic training when D-Day hit. He wanted to be a pilot, and though that did not happen, his interest in air flight continued to this day. He spent a full and successful career at Lockheed (back when people spent entire careers with one company), and continues to follow aeronautics in his retirement.

It was surely decades ago that I gave my father an American flag for, I don't know, his birthday, or Father's Day or Christmas; it was so long ago, I don't remember. It remains the best gift I ever gave him, as he proudly hangs it outside his house on every national holiday. It's travelled from Los Angeles to Atlanta to North Carolina, and by now is a bit tattered, and very weathered. I've offered to replace it for him, but he'll have none of it; he's proud of the flag, and I guess proud that his son gave it to him so many years ago.

I don't make my father proud all that often, so when it happens, I'll take it and run with it. I never served in the military, and don't know many who have. My generation was ever-so-slightly too young for Vietnam; in fact, I missed the draft by only a year or two. Once military service was no longer mandatory, nobody I knew ever joined up. Even today, I can think of only one of my peers who is a vet, my buddy Matt, about whom I wrote a while ago. And he's younger than I; I don't believe I know a single man my age who has served in the military.

That flag is flying outside Dad's house today, alerting the neighbors that a veteran lives here. It's not a very happy Veterans Day this year, with the atrocious massacre at Fort Hood casting a long shadow. Those soldiers who were slaughtered didn't get the chance to become veterans, and neither did Brian Bradshaw. Ever hear of him? Probably not. He was killed in Afghanistan on June 25, 2009. That was a big day in the news, one of the biggest of the year, as it was the date Michael Jackson died. So Brian's death, and others like his, passed without any kind of national acknowledgement. I've posted the below clip before, but I feel inclined to post it again today. I suppose it's better suited to Memorial Day, since the guy in question never became a veteran. For some reason, though, I wanted to see it again today; Brian Bradshaw, and all the thousands of other soldiers we've sacrificed in Iraq and Afghanistan, won't get to grow old like my dad, flying a faded flag outside his house on days such as this.

Friday Dance Party: Maine's Question One

Was there any doubt? Not from this tired, cynical soul. Though this time, the good guys, that is, the pro-gay marriage folks, actually outspent the conservative, "Let's Preserve The Sanctity Of Marriage Because Heteros Have Treated The Institution With All That Dignity So Far" side...but really, as I've written before, we are not going to make headway as long as our GALs ("Gay Activist Leaders") cling stubbornly to that word: "marriage."
The voters in Maine have voted to repeal an ordinance enacted by their own legislature to allow gay marriage in the state. Why is anybody surprised at this? In each and every instance, when the question of legalizing same-sex marriage has been put to a popular vote, it has been defeated. Each and every time. EACH AND EVERY TIME. Why? Basic civil rights for any minority group should NEVER be left up to the whims of the majority; in such cases, Americans will prove, over and over again, that we are, at our core, selfish, bigoted, and resistant to the rights of any minority. If the black civil rights movement of the 1960s had been put to a popular vote, Barack Obama would still be drinking from a separate water fountain.

So, Maine voters proved my point and repealed the law giving equal rights to same-sex partners. You know what else happened on election day this week? "Referendum 71" passed in Washington State. It was nicknamed "Everything But Marriage," and it insured that same-sex couples would enjoy the exact same legal privileges and rights as married couples, in short: Equality. The only thing missing: the term "marriage." And the measure passed. Why won't those stubborn PALs back off the M Word, and concentrate on gaining full civil rights in all 50 states? We can start calling it "marriage" later.

So, for this politically charged Dance Party, here is a clip you should already have seen. Though it's never been posted here, it went viral last year after the infamous Prop 8 was passed in California. Composer Marc Shaiman (Hairspray) gathered an all-star cast and created this little mini-musical in response. Enjoy, then go out and hug a homosexual. We could use a bit of positive reinforcement; apparently, we're still not as good as you:

Carl Ballantine

1917-2009

He called himself "The World's Greatest Magician," but he actually gave up sleight of hand very early in his career. The tricks he learned from his barber as a kid did not translate well to the nightclub circuit, until he began commenting on his own ineptitude. He would arrive onstage in formal attire and alert the audience, "if the act dies, I'm dressed for it." He might cut up a newspaper into long strips, promising to reconstruct it. Then he would pause to read the want ads.

Ballantine brought comedy to the world of the magician, and influenced David Copperfield, Steve Martin, Dom DeLuise, and Penn & Teller with his routines. He took his surname from a bottle of whiskey, and named his daughters after famous racetracks (he liked "the ponies"). His brand of stand-up worked well on television, and he guested on all the major variety programs of the 50s and early 60s.

He is well-remembered as Luther Gruber, one of the lovably inept con-men who crewed McHale's Navy in the mid-60s, and he brought his incompetent magician act to Fantasy Island, Night Court, and The Cosby Show. He was the first "magician" to headline in Vegas, and appeared in the first Broadway revival of A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum starring Phil Silvers (he played Marcus Lycus in the production). In his later life, he had a career as a voice-over artist (he memorably voiced the talent agent of the California Raisins), and received the prestigious Lifetime Achievement Fellowship from the Magic Castle in Hollywood. He appeared in several feature films, including The Shakiest Gun in the West (1968), The World's Greatest Lover(1977) and Mr. Saturday Night (1992), but will surely be best remembered as "The Great Ballantine," the magician whose act bombs.

Carl Ballantine died this week at the age of 92. His wish was to have his ashes spread over the racetrack at Santa Anita.