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April 14, 2002:

MY GOODNESS

Bruce Kimmel Photograph bk's notes

Well, dear readers, today is Sunday, traditionally a day of rest. However, I will not be resting today, traditionally or otherwise. In fact, I have non-stop things to do today and will not be finished with said non-stop things until nine o’clock this evening. In one hour I shall be going to The Cheescake Factory for a birthday breakfast for my friend, Mr. Grant Geissman. Then I have to hurry back to my very own home for a meeting with our Tourette’s Benefit stage manager, Mr. Ronn Goswick. That meeting lasts two hours, and then five other people arrive and the meeting continues for another two hours. Then we all get in our automobiles and drive out to Oak Park for a rehearsal with the Wechter kids (they are involved in one number) and then a birthday dinner for David Wechter’s brother, Jerry Wechter. Then I get in my automobile and drive back to my very own home where I will then sit on my very own couch like so much fish and watch a DVD. Is that a day or is that a day? My goodness, I’m tired already, just writing about it.

Last night, David and Jerry Wechter’s mother, Cissy Wechter, and I, went to a benefit at Hamilton High School. It was very interesting to see another benefit whilst in the midst of doing our very own. This benefit was very different from the one we’re doing. First of all, there was no real theme, just some very talented people doing numbers. Second of all, it ran three hours with intermission. I know there are very few ways to control running times of benefits, but let me tell you I have been a stern taskmaster in terms of our benefit’s running time, and I will be very surprised if it runs much over our hoped-for two hours (plus intermission). Last night’s benefit, while overlong, had lots of fun things in it, including Mr. Ron Dennis, the original Richie (Gimme the ball) from A Chorus Line, reunited with many members of the cast of A Chorus Line, doing that entire section from Hello Twelve. We also had a cast from some production of The Will Rogers Follies do the Favorite Son number, and that was fun, too.

The host of the evening was The Love Boat’s Ted Lange. Other people taking part (some of whom have children who go to Hamilton and who are in the arts program) were Lenny Wolpe, Teri Ralston, Paul Kreppel (who also directed, and who is appearing in our benefit) and Stuart Pankin, Luba Mason, Valerie Perri, Rene Auberjonois (who recreated his number from The Little Mermaid), Ilene Graff, ventriliquist Jay Johnson (from Soap – very funny), Karla de Vito, my pal Murphy Cross, Gerry McIntrye and Joe Joyce (doing the Hot Honey Rag!), Scott Bakula and Chelsea Field, and others. The highlights for me were the aforementioned Gimme the Ball, the Glory dance from Pippin (with the astonishing Sandahl Bergman and Kate Wright, who was in the original production – they did it with Ron Dennis doing Ben Vereen’s role), and a tap dancer named Mark Mendonca, who did a terrific number with jazz saxophonist Gerald Albright.

Afterwards, there was a reception in the main building. I have not been in the main building of Hamilton High School since I graduated. What a weird feeling. First of all, there were no lockers – they’d removed the lockers from the first floor of the main building. The assistant principal, Jeff Kaufman, was there and came up to me and told me he remembered me performing on that stage many times (he graduated two years after I did), and then he showed me a tile on the floor of the main building from my Caledonian class. He also told me an amazing thing, which I’ll save for the end of these here notes. There was plenty of food and drink, but I saw no evidence of cheese slices or ham chunks, nor shrimp bits on toast, and I felt that was a major faux pas on the planners of the event.

My goodness, shouldn’t I already be in the next section? Hurry, we’d better all click on the Unseemly Button before the errant and truant Mr. Mark Bakalor runs over and bitch-slaps us all into oblivion.

There. We have once again thwarted Mr. Mark Bakalor and his bitch-slapping ways and we are the better for it.

My goodness, don’t forget, the new radio show goes up later today, with special guest Billy Barnes. It’s very long, close to two hours and is very very special and I recommend it to one and all and also all and one. Mr. Donald Feltham is going off to New York, New York this week and because Mr. Mark Bakalor is just too too busy to help us out, the current radio show will be up for two weeks, at which time Mr. Feltham will return to us in high fashion (leather pants and black pumps). At that point, he will put up an Encore presentation. Watch the notes this week – I will list the radio shows we’ve had thus far and we will all vote for the one we’d like to have repeated and then we shall repeat it. Mr. Bakalor assures me that after he moves (he is very busy packing boxes and cannot be bothered with the likes of us) we will indeed be able to have improvements to the site and he will be very attentive to each and every need we may or may not have.

My goodness, this week’s trivia question proved very confusing, so I had to go in twice (I never do anything twice) and make things clear. Hopefully they are clear now, so check yesterday’s notes for both question and clarifications.

Why do I keep saying “My goodness” like that? That is so annoying, all those “My goodnesses”. First of all, it is unseemly to keep going on and on about my goodness. Who gives a flying Wallenda about my goodness. It’s my badness we all want to hear about, isn’t it? It’s the dirt we all want to hear about, isn’t it? It’s the sordid little details we all want to hear about, isn’t it? Not my goodness. The hell with my goodness, I am just over my goodness. Today, for example, I shall give some unsuspecting person the finger. For no reason whatsoever. What do you think about that? My goodness indeed. I shall let the devil in me run rampant and rampant is just going to have to take being run by the devil in me. I do have a devilish side, you know. It’s my left side. My right side is my angelish side and the two sides are alway fighting to gain control of my buff and toned self. My buff and toned self is the main course and the two sides are mere accoutrements, but together they make a whole meal. My goodness, what the hell am I talking about? I have gone into a surreal landscape from which I must escape. Yes, Virginia, I must escape the surreal landscape and my devilish left side take the hindmost.

Well, as I’ve said, I have an extemely busy day today, so I must get ready and make tracks over to The Cheesecake Factory.

Those of you who may have been dear readers of the other column I used to write (as The Real A) may remember a story I told once – the one time I got serious in the column. Something that assistant principal of Hamilton High School told me last night reminded me that I’d told that story. I don’t usually go to serious places like that, but it was a sad story that had a rather profound effect on me as a teen. I’m not going to tell the story here, other than to say that it involved a high school friend of mine, a girl named Stephanie, who was raped and murdered in 1965. She was in my high school drama class, and she was a great girl, cute as a button and the friendliest person you’d ever want to know. We used to pass notes to each other all the time, and I think we even occasionally went to the Beverlywood Deli after school for fries. I still have one of those notes somewhere – it says “Stephanie, you’re the one – I’m the two”. It was a horrifying thing to happen, and the first time I’d ever been somewhat close to such ugliness. They never caught the person who did it. What brought all this back was that Jeff Kaufman told me that novelist James Ellroy had been to the school, and that he’s doing a television show about unsolved mysteries in Los Angeles, and that he’s doing Stephanie’s story. He’s also thinking about doing a book about it. I admire Mr. Ellroy and think him a terrific writer, and no one knows the dark side of Los Angeles better than he. I’m sure it won’t be pleasant to watch or read about, these things never are. But I adored Stephanie and rather than her being some forgotten statistic, at least this will bring home what a terrific person she was – one whose sweet life ended much too violently and much too swiftly.

My goodness, I must run now. I think we’re going to make Sundays free-for-all day from now on – in other words, today’s topic of discussion is up to you. Talk about whatever you feel like, and I shall chime in if I have a chance. What I love about our little posting system here, is that even if we don’t always agree with each other, we all get along famously and are very friendly, unlike other unseemly internet places where people get nasty and stupid and disgusting. So, post away, dear Hainsies/Kimlets, and I shall return anon.

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