Well, dear readers, this week is already flying by, like a gazelle French kissing a doorknob. A gazelle French kissing a doorknob? That is so outré that it is outré plus. I don’t know what’s more outré – a French-kissing gazelle or the doorknob. Well, I now cannot get the image of a gazelle French kissing a doorknob out of my head and I don’t even know what a fershluganah gazelle looks like. What the HELL am I talking about? Shouldn’t we be having some Christmas cheer and snowmen and mistletoe and rum punch? Speaking of rum punch, yesterday was a reasonably reasonable day. For example, I got up. That was reasonable. I then had a bunch of e-mails to catch up on. What up was doing on my e-mails and why up has this need to be caught is anyone’s guess. After I did so, Mr. Cason Murphy came by and we went for a spot of lunch to discuss some upcoming projects. We lunched at that Kansas City Barbecue jernt and it was just as good the second time around. After that, I had errands to do and plenty of them. Then I went to the Beverly Center and used one of my gift cards at the Sony store. I hadn’t been to the Beverly Center in years, so I walked around and checked out all the new stores and food places. I preferred the Beverly Center when it was Kiddieland. After that, I toddled over to the Macha Theatre to see Town Without Pity, The Love Songs of Gene Pitney. The Macha is the former Globe Theatre on Kings Road, just north of Hugo’s Restaurant. I got there early and had some time before the show, so I walked around and looked at some of the new jernts on Santa Monica Blvd. Then I moseyed on back to the theater, met the writer/director of the show, and chatted with the general manager of the show (the nice fellow whom I’d met with last week regarding EQUITY), then I took my seat.
Last night I saw a show entitled Town Without Pity, The Love Songs of Gene Pitney. First of all, I have always been a fan of Gene Pitney’s songs so I was predisposed to enjoy the show, which I did. The four fellows who star all have very good voices and they blend well, and their harmony arrangements are very good. The accompaniment was piano and guitar, and there were times I wished it were either just piano, or wished it were piano, bass, drums and guitar. I’m not sure the subtitle of the show is necessary, since not all the songs are love songs (try as one might, I simply cannot classify The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance as a love song). The songs, of course, are all great, and there are a lot of them. There’s minimal patter, mostly informational about Pitney and the years in which the songs were done. There are some factual errors (too many, actually) and they’re easy to fix and should be fixed – i.e. when talking about 1963 we’re told that The Sound Of Music was the biggest grossing film of the year – no mean feat, since the film didn’t come out until 1965. When talking about the year 1964 and the tumult that was about to come to the turbulent sixties, the movies Bonnie and Clyde and The Graduate are referenced in the context of that year – but, while it may be nitpicking, Bonnie and Clyde and The Graduate both came out in 1967 (The Graduate, I believe, at the very end of the year). And the narrative jumps all over the place and is confusing, but these are easy fixes. Right now, I think the writer/director has to make a decision whether this is a cabaret show, a musical revue, or a theater piece. The show runs a brisk hour and it’s very entertaining and the audience clearly had a grand time and loved the fellows. I think with a little work, this could be a very interesting and profitable show – as it stands now, it’s somewhere in the middle.
After the show, I chatted again with the general manager, and paid my respects to the writer/director, then I toddled home, stopping at Gelson’s to get a little something to nosh on, which I did when I got settled in for the evening.
Well, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below because maybe that will help me get the outré plus image of a gazelle French-kissing a doorknob out of my head.
Today I have many errands to do, and I do hope I haven’t forgotten any appointments or meetings or lunches or dinners. I will be driving hither and thither and perhaps even yon and then I have work to do at the piano when I return home. So, it should be a fairly full day when all is said and done.
Tomorrow I may lunch with dear reader Hisaka, who tells me she has a birthday gift for me. Tomorrow I will also have to get serious chasing down an overdue invoice from – wait for it – that store in the UK that has been notoriously difficult to deal with. They did turn around their last invoice in the proper amount of time, but this time they are now five days late, and they have not responded to my last three e-mails. However, my pal Nick Redman is on his way to the UK today, and I may ask him to stop in the store and raise a little ruckus to get them off their annoying butt cheeks – and I’ll let them know that that’s what will be happening if they don’t respond.
I told you December was a busy birthday month, and lo and behold and also behold and lo we all better put on our pointy party hats and our colored tights and pantaloons, we’d all better break out the cheese slices and ham chunks, we’d all better dance the Hora or the Old-Fashioned Waltz, because today is the birthday of our very own dear reader Ginny. So, let’s give a big haineshisway.com birthday cheer to our very own dear reader Ginny. On the count of three: One, two, three – A BIG HAINESHISWAY.COM BIRTHDAY CHEER TO OUR VERY OWN DEAR READER GINNY!!!
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, do lots of errands, work at the piano, and, I’m sure, a few other things. Today’s topic of discussion: In this era of online and Internet and e-mail and text messaging and connectivity, what is it you like and enjoy about the computer and all of the above, and what do you not like and what things would you like to go back to the way they were, pre Internet and computer? Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, and do try and make them outré plus.