Well, dear readers, today is a red-letter day. Not a blue- letter day, mind you, or even an ochre-letter day, no, today is a red-letter day. Today, I get to pick up my two count them two Alvin Colt Li’l Abner costume sketches. I’ll be meeting Mr. Nick Redman at the auction house, as he’ll be picking up his item as well. We shall then take our bounty or our booty or whatever our items are, and we shall lunch at Kate Mantilini’s, where I may just have to have the macaroni and cheese or, at the very least, the cheese and macaroni. I love a red-letter day, don’t you? But, exactly which letter is red, that’s the question? Is it the letter “P” for example? Is “P” the red letter? Or is “U” the red letter? Which fershluganah letter is the red letter? I think we must ascertain this. We must know which letter is the red letter. Well, whichever letter is the red letter, it is still a red-letter day. Yesterday, for example, was not a red-letter day – it was a green-letter day, and I had quite a good time of it. I had to pack up a bunch of orders. I had to put the finishing touches on the Stages CD, which is now finished and ready for the pressing plant. I then shipped the packages, which included several really heavy boxes going to CD Baby and amazon, two online jernts that have been selling our CDs quite well. I’ve been dismayed at the slowness with which the stores are paying, so I had to get a bit terse with them and tell them they’re not on a net thirty or a net fifteen – it’s a net ten, and then I want the moolah. Apparently, those checks (and one wire transfer) are en route, so that’s a good thing. I then had a perfectly lovely dinner with cousins Alan and Dee Dee. We dined at Louise’s, and the food was the best its been in ages. I was quite stuffed, I tell you. We had lots of fun conversing. We conversed for two whole hours, as a matter of fact. And that was my green-letter day. Isn’t that exciting? Isn’t that just too too?
Last night, I finished watching a motion picture on DVD entitled Hush…Hush, Sweet Charlotte, starring Miss Bette Davis and Miss Olivia de Havilland. While not quite the equal of Whatever Happened to Baby Jane (same star, same director, and same co-writer), it’s still an enjoyable affair, with lots of scenery chewing by the actors, and film chewing by the director. Miss Davis is ever so much fun, Miss de Havilland is quite good as well, Miss Agnes Moorehead has a three-course feast on the scenery, Miss Mary Astor is, as always, excellent, Bruce Dern has a small but important role in the prologue, and Mr. Joseph Cotton is suave and debonair. And, since it’s a Robert Aldrich film, my friend Margaret’s dad, Dave Willock, has a role (he’s in most of Aldrich’s films from Baby Jane on). Weley Addy and Cecil Kellaway show up and are their usual good selves. I must say, the prologue still packs a wallop, violence-wise. The DeVol score is quite good, too. The transfer is mostly excellent, as is the sound.
What am I, Ebert and Roeper all of a sudden? Why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below because, after all, it’s a red-letter day and that is simply what one does on a red-letter day.
Have I mentioned that it’s a red-letter day and that we don’t quite know which letter it is that’s red? The moment I get back from lunch I shall photograph the Li’l Abner costume sketches and post the right here at haineshisway.com for your mental delectation.
Thanks to dear reader Pogue, we now know that what I’ve been hearing for the last two months is now official: Thong underwear is no longer hip and they’re on their way out. It will be a happy day when those vile things have vanished off the face of the earth, along with those low jeans that make even thin people’s butts look awful. Out with them, I say. No more wire thongs, ever. Yes, the day there are no more thongs or g-strings will be a red-letter day, and that letter will be “H” for hallelujah.
This morning I’ll be speaking to a set designer who I’d like to do the set for my play. He’ll probably say no, because the money is so low, but you never know until you ask. He’s actually quite a well-known set designer, who I’ve known since the 70s. When he came to see What If last year, I hadn’t seen him in twenty years. I was appalled to hear that he hadn’t worked in quite a while because they only wanted younger people. He was quite bitter about it, but I tried to comfort him and tell him that his day would come again, which I believe it will. Talent does win out, eventually, and sometimes even out wins talent.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, pick up my auction items, I must lunch, I must pack some CDs, I must finish doing all the booklet information for the Stages CD, I must write flap copy for my novel, I must begin my review of The Hight and The Mighty and Island in the Sky for Scarlet Street, and I must have several important telephonic conversations on both home and cell phones. Today’s topic of discussion: What is the worst clothing trend you’ve ever seen in all your years – and, did you dress in that clothing trend when it was in vogue? And what do you consider to be the best fashion trend in all your years – the clothing trend you wish would come back. Don’t pull any punches; let’s hear all about the good, the bad, and the ugly. Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, on this red-letter day.