Tell Mrs. B. that Burl Ives, Richard Attenborough, and Theo Bickel are all the same person. I empathize with her about keeping up with who’s dead and who’s not. But I definitely know someone who is alive and kicking and probably tap dancing. Ms. Lewinsky. It’s being reported everywhere that the numbers of millions she’ll get for a book are undetermined, but there’s gonna be a book. And Stage Mother Marcia will write it, no doubt with schmaltz-enriched ink. Were he around today, the chap who wrote Romans in the Good Book might want to reconsider rewriting the bit about the wages of sin being death. They seem more like jumbo book contracts, to me. (Yo! Paula Barbieri.)
One of the NY tabs is reporting on a cabaret show–12 minutes long–wherein the Monica character sings, “Nice Girls Finish Last.” Shows how old-fashioned I am. My version would have been, “Nice Girls Don’t Finish.”
Since my toes are tapping, my brain just sent signals to the tune of “Another Opening, Another Show,” only my lyrics are, “Another Intern, Another … ” well, let’s forego that rhyme. The nugget there, though, is that Intern Sherrie Densuk is most likely Starr’s new Lewinsky. (Some last name, huh?)
Last little single entendre before the decorum police come for me: the AP has a picture of Ginger Spice that shows her boobs looking like they’re in two different zip codes. What’s with these surgeons anyway? Have they no spatial sense?
Now I will elevate the discussion to the written word. Having done hard time in LA, I’m getting into Mike Davis’ book, Ecology of Fear: Los Angeles and the Imagination of Disaster. A review in the Times got me interested because it mentioned his riff on “219 consecutive days without measurable precipitation last year.” Neil Simon used to call that circumstance “L.A.’s relentless f—— sunshine.”
Now news from a rainy place, Edinburgh: Louise Woodward–now a blonde with a short bob, thank you–opined at a conference on media and trials that, because of TV, her legacy will be “a nervous giggle” during her testimony. I don’t think so.
And did you still respect me this morning after my confession that I’m a Gennifer Flowers fan, hmmmm?