September Song in its original setting is pretty nasty, where it is a dirty old man (Peter Styuvesant, played by Walter "No voice, no range!" Huston) coercing a young woman.

There are more opportunities to play September Song than one might hope.

Apple, love the Reta story. Never know where those breast implants might lead.

and more about Reta. When she was suddenly penniless, she moved in with me into my apartment. She could never make the rent because she was always buying clothes. she gave me her gorgeous Italian (family inheritence) furniture.. a couple upholstered chairs, a coffee and end table and a bed. After she was married she knocked on my door and said 'Carl wants my furniture.. he thinks you stole it from me.' I said 'just take it'. I didn't like Carl at that point. I loved and missed her tho. Over the years she paid me back from her spending money.. secretly, no doubt. I saw her at a pet store once, buying a duck for her daughter before Easter. She gave me 800 bucks then and sent me cards with money over the years.. about 2400 dollars.

We were quite the cute pair. We'd go out and all the guys would hover around our table. Reta was really cute.. very skinny with HUGE boobs and face like Twiggy. Apparently her boobs pretty much grew back after they were reduced. She put on some much needed weight. .. so, oh well.

Robin, I'd love to see a picture of that sleek white mini dress with the chiffon train. I bet it was gorgeous.

(i love checking the Sartorialist blog weekly.

"Apparently her boobs pretty much grew back after they were reduced. She put on some much needed weight. .. so, oh well."

"What God hath joined together, let no man rend asunder." That's the way I see it.

Almost against my will, Apple, I find I have to believe every word of these stories. They have that ring of verity; who could make them up, except possibly Colette. You know, her birthday (and Artur Rubenstein's) was just day-before-yesterday, and I sort of wanted to work it into this thread, but that does take art. Some days, I'm just not there. My stories don't just (at least seem to) simply tell themselves as yours do, with that artless inevitability. And Tim's. That tale of the child mixing up the handbells and causing a train wreck during the Christmas performance! We should know the wind-up as soon as we hear 'child' and 'handbells' mentioned, yet it's so delicious to watch the leaning tower lean, tilt, and totter... slowly, slowly, slowly though it might be, it would be wiser to stand clear.

I think the way you loved your friend, Apple, and appreciated the charm even of her waywardness, is the mainspring... that could drive almost any story. Not everyone would tolerate her behavior--- but we all want to be loved like that, as undeserving as we might be.

Anyway. Colette. Her most famous work was Gigi, thanks to the Lerner and Loewe stage and screen musical adaptations. As frothy as the novella is, it's a little hard to see it being written in Paris during the darkest years of the German occupation (it was published in 1944). But, like Apple's friend, Gigi ends up marrying the wealthy sugar magnate, after turning him down flat for the usual deal as a kept woman with a negotiated financial arrangement. For Gigi, it's love or nothing.

Such is fame... and the power of art. It was also daring and courageous; 'nothing' in those days was a very grim and frightening prospect. My favorite, though, is The Vagabond. She has dumped the husband, gone on the stage to earn her living as a mime (ugh!), keeps an adorable little bitch named Fosette which she bought out from under another vaudeville performing dogs act. And, she throws out the rich boyfriend who is mad for her to marry him (though I think she finally gives in, in the sequel, and then dumps him for good.) Her charms proved to be more fungible, in the end, than the boyfriend had supposed; she seems him later on the street with his new wife, already impregnated again, and in the company of their first child. I believe she passes him by unobserved.

She can spin these mundane little tales out in the most fascinating way, with a beautiful polish on the prose, even in translation.

And on a strictly gratuitous note: today marks the anniversary of the 1971 release of Carole King's album, Tapestry. It was the longest-charting release ever by a female artist, and sold 25 million copies: No. 1 for 15 weeks, and still on the charts for 305 weeks. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tapestry I heard someone complain about having to perform in those gowns with the scratchy sequins--- Carole never wore anything so glam. No pumps, either; for her, it was flats all the way.

I'm just saying.

Jeff, ...fungible... now that's a word you don't see every day!

Tapestry - I own that album (right, ok, along with 25 million other people lol)

It was one of my favourites and I bet I can still remember the words to most of the songs. I should get some sheet music for them!

OH!!! and the most remarkable part of the Reta story is that Reta's sister is THE Kate Spade.. style goddess and handbag designer. .. surely someone you would know about it you coveted high-end shoes and bags in better stores. I have a Kate story too.. but won't tell it.

my lips are sealed.

I saw them both recently, at the funeral of June, their mother. She was a top model in NY, who came down to the boondocks in KS with her husband who eventually lost all his money. June was cool, she'd offer us vodka and cranberry juices when we were in our twenties. She did live well into her 80s.

enough gossip for now...

Your stories tell themselves wonderfully, Jeff.

...but if you're still troubled by your writing, you might borrow Colette's strategy against writer's block: Her husband would lock her into her study until she produced enough pages.

In googling about Colette to verify my (often inaccurate) memory about that anecdote, I discovered she led a rather, er, flamboyant and unusual life, including a torrid affair with her own stepson and baring a breast while appearing in a burlesque show; at another show she engaged in a passionate kiss with another female actress, leading to a riot at the Moulin Rouge.

Of course, today such antics would lead only to fame and 10-page photo spreads in Entertainment Weekly.

"Colette's strategy against writer's block: Her husband would lock her into her study until she produced enough pages. "

...and sign his own name to the stories, and cash the paychecks for himself.

Small wonder Colette ended up as such a firebrand of rebellion. The only unusual thing is that we know so many details about it. She was way ahead of her time... ahead of time to come, as well.

one can claim notoriety with a wikipedia page. Collette's is quite interesting. Too bad she never read hers. Gigi was one of my favorite childhood movies. I just loved Leslie Caron.

Tapestry was not my favorite album. My roommate in college played it constantly. She would leave and I would put Keith Jarrett on.

i feel the earth move under my feet
i feel the sky tumbling down tumbling down
I feel my heart start to trembling
blah blah blah blah blah

I love Leslie Caron.
I love Carole King.
I love Keith Jarrett.

Growing up I wanted to be all three of them. No wonder I'm a little loopy.

I hesitate to play "I Feel the Earth Move." That's the choking priest song, and I can't get through it without having traumatic flash backs to my days at the Redwood Motor Inn in Pittsburgh.

"...a torrid affair with her own stepson and baring a breast while appearing in a burlesque show; at another show she engaged in a passionate kiss with another female actress, leading to a riot at the Moulin Rouge."

How timely to mention this, Monica:

"February 1, 2004 – Janet Jackson's breast is exposed during the half-time show of Super Bowl XXXVIII, resulting in US broadcasters adopting a stronger adherence to Federal Communications Commission censorship guidelines." http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/February_1

...and eventually, a large fine to the network (like they care).

One has to think of the riot that broke out at the premiere of Igor Stravinky's ballet, The Rite of Spring (Le sacre du printemps), in its original version choreographed by Vaslav Nijinsky. Some accounts blame the choreography for the scandal; others say the riot was political, and staged. (Some said the same of the Janice/Justin Timberlake caper.) Judging of the matter is impossible, as the choreography has vanished forever and the premiere on May 29, 1913 is beyond living memory, though tongues have not stopped wagging to this very day.

Doing the look-up corrected my own failing memory, which told me that it was staged at the Paris Opera--- but no, it was performed at Théâtre des Champs-Élysées by the Ballets Russes.

Leslie Caron was featured on a TV retrospective of her career not so long ago--- maybe a year or two back--- for TCM. It's hard to realize that she was so very young when she started dancing onscreen with Gene Kelly in "An American in Paris," and created the title role in "Gigi." She's a lovely and intelligent lady, and told wonderful stories; the special is worth watching, if it comes up again.

Perhaps few remember that Louis Jourdan dumped Eva Gabor for Leslie Caron, but that was a mere sidelight among the performances of veterans like Hermione Gingold and Maurice Chevalier, libretto and lyrics by Lerner based on a (cleaned-up for America) novella by Colette, score by Lowe--- what else could you squeeze into one film. Ok, then: directed by Vincente Minelli. Nine Oscars, including Best Film.

Still not enough? The role was originated on stage by then-unknown Audrey Hepburn, who took the 1952 Theatre World Award; the stage version was written by Anita Loos. Gold and more gold, no matter where you look.

not too many weddings in January i think.

the unhitched guys are gearing up for Valentine proposals
and gals are dreaming of the June weddding.

Kansas City is totally covered in snow and I was in the very seedy part of town today, approaching my church from a different direction after doing an errand for mr. apple.

Lots of people were walking.. moms with children towing groceries, gangs of boys and street walkers. .. real streetwalkers out in the afternoon in front of children. I was appalled. I saw tatoo parlors.


my little church set an attendance record of 142 for a Saturday service.. it's all me.

Played for a birthday party last night, but got booted off of the bench by a string quartet who took over right before the end of my first set. They were very good. I listened for awhile then headed home. My husband was performing live on the radio from the Cologne Philharmonie, so I got to hear his concert as I was driving.

John was playing for a Flamenco pianist named Chano Dominquez and a trio of musicians, which included a percussionist named El Piranha and an authentic Flamenco dancer. It occurred to me that broadcasting a concert with a Flamenco dancer is perhaps not the wisest radio choice, but I could hear those flying feet loud and clear. I'm not sure what the audience in the hall thought, but on radio it was quite impressive, although just a little goofy.

No wedding news (I think during the slow months we can be forgiven for resorting to secondary stories, and count on Clef to keep us updated on important dates in Wedding History), but I was in Berlin this week, playing for a fancy pants party for former German president Richard Weizsäcker, who is 91. Big crowd of VIPs and a gorgeous Steinway concert grand. Easy gig. Just background music. I played before the speeches, John's trio played after. It was a full-press Goldsby evening.

Okay, something's up. I have already received four calls to play weddings on April 16th. I booked two of them —one in the afternoon, one in the evening—but had to pass on the other two. Last year it was May 8th. Weird!

Nothing in Wedding History today, as such. But since we're going fishing (ice fishing, in Apple's case--- and by the way, which was it you found appalling, the streetwalkers or the tattoo parlors? Both? I'm going to say, personally, those shamelessly tacky wedding parties where the bride AND bridesmaids can't wear enough to cover up their numerous tats--- were they all streetwalkers?).

Ah well. These bargain basements of the demi-monde serve a need, tattoo parlors and all, and who are we to take the wedding cake out of their mouths.

Anyway. Today is Zsa Zsa's birthday. 1917, if you're wondering. Best I could do. Though Claudio Arrau's birthday is also today, and that is really more interesting.

what is a 94th birthday without a leg to stand on...?

poor dear. hope she is comfie, loved, indulged and well drugged.

That is why Walter Huston as Peter Stuyvesant "walks a little lame" in September Song.

Wasn't he married to Eileen?







Bah-dum-pah!

I'm stumped... was he?

I bow to the master.

I did not expect to be one-upped that rapidly.

Kudos!

I'd like to give you hand for for being so gracious. (i should quit while a head).

Today in Wedding History:

February 10, 1840: HRH Queen Victoria marries Albert of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha. I wondered why they didn't wait a few more days and celebrate their nuptials on Valentine's Day--- at first, I thought that it might not have been celebrated at the time, but it turns out that it was established in the year 500 (though it was deprecated from the calendar of saints in 1969)--- well, no help there.

Maybe they just couldn't wait four more days. After all, they were both twenty.

It is also the anniversary of the invention of the fire extinguisher and the singing telegram, both evocative images in the circumstances, and the birthday of Roberta Flack.

I suppose the rose petals have already been ordered for Robin's event at the castle. Perhaps they are gazing at the inside of the lid of a cardboard airfreight container even at this moment, with no idea that they are flying at a high rate of speed seven miles above the ocean. And no doubt the tall tapers which will illuminate the event are reposing in their cardboard boxes in the castle's storage rooms, ready to fulfill their destiny of radiating photons, glamour, and romance at the appointed time.

-----------------FLASH--------------------

and Next Week in Wedding History,
and I do mean history:

The Fox network television show, "Bones" case-of-the-week features a wedding planner who was stabbed to death with an object that resembles (the shot went by fast) the stake which holds the little bride and groom to the top of the wedding cake.

I know there are some of us who won't want to miss that episode. A difficult case--- so many people with a motive.

Never have I been so thoroughly de-feet-ed.

you kneedn't feel bad Tim.

Feb. 11, 1934: Happy Birthday Ginger Grant. Known primarily for channeling Marilyn in the television series "Gilligan's Island" (after the producers' first choice, Jayne Mansfield, turned down the role), Ginger spent years trying to persuade the public that she was a 'serious' dramatic actress in a series of rather humiliating roles. The stubborn moviegoing public was never persuaded, and felt she may as well have retired after her Ginger years had lost their snap.

Convicted of trick snatching after her arrest in a Manhattan hotel, where she was pulled from under a smouldering fireman (the hotel was not on fire), she was sentenced to ten years in Attica Men's Prison in upstate New York. At her parole hearing, the line of prisoners wishing to testify in favor of her release was so long that only a fraction could be heard.

Ginger is 78 years old.

In other wedding news: my neighbors have decided to marry, and yet the person who should be happiest about it (the mother-in-law--- the bride's mother, I mean) has already picked a fight with the newlyweds-to-be over whether their little dog can be in the wedding. Ring-bearer did seem reckless, I admit, when we're talking about an excitable little white Fifi and a diamond solitaire. I suggested that Dog-of-Honor might work, but (as told) the Matron-of-Honor had issues.

Apparently, the dog will be demoted to a cameo appearance at the reception, whose only duties (I suppose) will be to eat a few hors d'oeuves and submit to the photographer. Well, that and dress up in some kind of wedding outfit, if I know the bride. It did have to wear a Halloween costume and some kind of special bow and vest for Christmas.

I thought of suggesting my piano teacher as wedding musician, but if they're already fighting, I don't know.

I wonder. Maybe the sequel to "Bridezillas" might be "Mother-in Law-Zillas." Do you suppose anyone would watch?

Reading this over, I have to wonder if I'm still loopy from the surgery--- but it's all true. Well, not Ginger being in Attica.

I love Ginger. Can't get enough of the Ginger stories.

Clef, please recommend your piano teacher for the wedding. Then we can hear the inside story about the music. I assume you'll be invited, so we can look forward to that report.

Sorry i haven't posted recently. There's a lot going on here, not the least of which is a renovation of my living room, brought on by the donation of two fabulous sofas from a good friend of mine who is moving to Shanghai. My husband, who has two weeks off, decided we should do the work ourselves. I am proud to report that we are still married and the living room looks great.

Lots of jobs this week and next. Valentine's Day means an extra Monday night gig for me---it's odd to work on a Monday! Shaping up to be a busy wedding season. Lots of engaged couples are coasting though the castle lobby. Some of them take my business card.

In the middle of all of this I am practicing for my recording session next week. I have selected (and written) pieces to go along with the stories in the new book. I'm looking forward to the sessions—I work at this studio called Topaz, with an engineer named Reinhard Kobialka. A far as I'm concerned he gets the very best piano sound for my kind of music.

So wish me luck. This will be my fourth solo piano CD—I tend to do one every five years—but the process is still very exciting!

Is Reinhard Kobialka related to Daniel Kobialka, the violinist?

Not sure, BDB. I'll ask him next week.

Gearing up for the VD dinner this evening. I am hoping that Buttercup shows up. I like to think that an appearance by her will be an annual tradition.

I am unlikely to be invited to my neighbors' nuptials, especially if only to serve as a mole for "Let's Talk Weddings." If the mother-in-law is making a fuss about the dog, I'm sure she is only too well aware that caterers charge by the head, and is highly concerned about what her friends and family will think... and say. They may not say it to her face, but she well knows the feeling of eyes boring into her when she steps foot into the beauty parlor.

"She invited a dog!"

"Did the caterer charge by the head for the fleas?"

I think they might (privately) be over their daughter's having a live-in lover, as long as he is somewhat presentable and does marry her eventually. But a dog instead of grandbabies--- no. The Tennessee father of a gay man I know actually got in a fistfight and punched his son's boyfriend in the snoot. "You drank up all my grandbabies!" Oh yes, they have an agenda.

Well, now it's all out in the open.

I'm sure the Valentine's Day event will go fine, with or without Buttermilk.

Releasing a CD to go with the book is a brilliant cross-marketing opportunity. I am very anxious to hear the music you devise to go with the story of the girl eating an apple through a picket fence while wasps chase and sting the wedding guests while they kidnap the bride--- was that how that story went? Goth outfits, tattoos, piercings... or is this just another fever dream.

ROFL!

I had an outdoor wedding at the house we lived in at the time. While I had extended an invitation to my cat, Holden, she had not deigned to send back the RSVP card (cats are not known for their social etiquette), so I thought she was going to abstain from the proceedings. I'm not sure she approved of my spousal choice; Jonathan had had dogs throughout his life but never a cat, and it took him a while to warm up to the idea that Holden and I were a package deal.

So I was pleasantly surprised when Holden made an appearance in the ceremony right after I walked down the "aisle". Our wedding video shows her walking back and forth the whole time we are saying our vows, perhaps waiting for the minister to utter the immortal phrase, "let anyone who objects to this union speak now or forever hold your peace," not realizing we had explicitly instructed him to leave that particular line out. (Along with the admonition that the bride should obey her groom. That one was a no-brainer.)

I don't know, Clef, I think being a mole for the Let's Talk Weddings Forum would be a noble profession. The neighbor's wedding is sure to contain many notable moments. Do try to wrangle an invite!

Monica, that's a scream about Holden pacing back and forth during your ceremony!

Valentine's Day at the castle was no fun for me. Two hours into the gig I became quite ill---there's a norovirus thing going around and it seems I am its latest victim. One minute I was at the piano playing love songs in the key of A minor, the next minute I was in the ladies room praying for mercy. I still don't know how managed to drive home, but I did.

So much for the red dress---I think I'll need to burn it.