Well, dear readers, I am sitting here like so much fish, listening to the amazing Billy May album, Billy May’s Big Fat Brass. It was recorded in 1958 at Capitol Records, but I did not know from Billy May in 1958. No, I was introduced to him in a little year I like to call 1962 when I attended my first dance class with Mr. Roland Dupree. On that very first day I learned a few things but had little aptitude to do them well. And I remember vividly that we had to do a combination at the end of the class. I tried to stay hidden in the back to no avail – I’m afraid I was rather baffling to Mr. Dupree, but I tried hard. The piece of music used for that combination was wonderful and I fell in love with it. After class, I asked him what the selection was and he showed me the album cover from the album that had that track – Billy May’s Big Fat Brass, the selection being Solving the Riddle. After class, I made my mother drive right to a record store and we found the album and purchased it and I listened to it over and over again, practicing the combination as best I could remember it. But the entire album was, for me, magical and in incredible stereo sound. I got other Billy albums, but also albums where he’d done the arrangements for great singers of the day, including someone named Frank Sinatra. And now, as I write these here notes, Solving the Riddle is playing and I feel I should get up and do a pa de bourree, which I still remember to this day. Prior to Big Fat Brass, I watched two things on the Flix of Net – the first thing was a documentary entitled Amanda Knox, but as I watched I realized I’d already seen it. I watched it anyway and felt the same as when I wrote about it back in 2016, which was how reprehensible the media coverage was, with outright lies every day, assumptions with no factual basis, all of it. And then when she was acquitted, not a peep out of these disgusting creatures of the press about how mistaken they’d all been – no apologies, no nothing. The one press guy who features prominently in the documentary is the type who, if you could reach through your TV screen, you’d love to throttle. Then I watched some “thriller” entitled Fractured, a perfectly awful movie in every way – Screenwriting 101 all the way, with a “twist” at the end used in many other movies – well, I stuck with it but it was dreck, plain and simple.
Yesterday was supposed to be a ME day, but it was anything but. I got eight hours of sleep, got up, and just dealt with LA Now and Then issues all day, mostly to do with charts and stuff, but also getting our cast the script, the sheet music, the cast album tracks, and the link to the show on YouTube. I kept trying to do nothing, but alas, that was not to be. At some point, I went to the mail place – not much there in the last four days – some screeners for TV stuff that I have no interest in, and one little package. I had Jersey Mike’s for food – two of their smaller sandwiches – both very good. Then I finally watched stuff, did a Gelson’s run for waters, came home, did some work on the computer, had a muffin for my snack, and then listened to music.
Today, I’ll be up by eleven at the latest, I’ll do whatever needs doing, then someone comes at one-thirty to sing for me, then I’ll write, I’ll hopefully pick up some packages, I’ll eat something light but fun, and then at some point, I’ll watch, listen, and relax.
The rest of the week is more writing, and then on Wednesday night we begin learning music for LA Now and Then, on Thursday it’s choreography with Cheryl Baxter, Friday’s off, then Saturday is a longer day, all for musical staging. That gives us a good head start, as I’d always intended rehearsals to start on March 1. In other words, a busy week. Also, Grant is supposed to get to the book design this week, and I have to choose between two versions of the cover. That’s never easy. I know the one the Muse likes and I know the one Grant likes and, of course, they aren’t the same – what else is new? I like ‘em both.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, be up by eleven at the latest, do whatever needs doing, hear someone sing, write, hopefully pick up packages, eat, and then watch, listen, and relax. Today’s topic of discussion: What were your favorite instrumental albums growing up that wasn’t classical music? Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland, as I say May I and listen to more of the great sounds of Billy May. And, if I May, I have a wonderful memory of going to an ASMAC event at a restaurant on Ventura Blvd. that’s no longer there – honoring Mr. May. I don’t recall who invited me, but I remember sitting at a table with Bea Arthur and having a really funny conversation with her.