Later that night Susan and I went to a party of people she knew when she was a child star. Most of the people at this party were former child stars, including Mr. Jon Provost, Mr. Paul Peterson, the girl who played “Margaret” on Dennis The Menace, Flip Mark, Stanley Livingston and, you won’t believe it, that wonderful Scout Finch, Miss Mary Badham herself. It was fun and we had good food to boot. Yes, we all put on our boots and we booted the food around. It was most amusing. The Livingstons have a dog named Mochie or Mopey or Moppy or Sloppy or something and this dog was so unfriendly it was mind boggling. Yes, minds were boggled. It either ignored you or snapped at you. I was chatting with Flip Mark’s twenty-one year old daughter, Jennifer, and I suggested we go kick Mochie or Mopey or Moppy or Sloppy in the head and give it brain damage. That would teach that dog a lesson in manners, wouldn’t it? But, we were nice and we didn’t, even though Mochie or Mopey or Moppy or Sloppy kept snapping away as the evening wore on. We did have actual Mochie for dessert. It apparently is ice cream in a won ton or something, but it was so disgusting and gelatinous and grotesque I almost vomited on the table after biting into the “skin”.

I’ll have a full report for you on day two… oops, I did it again. I’ll have a full report for you on the second day of the show. I did meet one of our dear readers, a lurker out there in the dark, and that was fun. He promised he would start posting and we hope he will.

Well, I believe it is time for us all to click on the Unseemly Button below because I must make haste because soon it will be show time.

- Sunday, June 30, 2002 @ 12:22 AM PST

Saturday, June 29, 2002

Shortly I will be off to do the Hollywood Collector’s Show signing and I’ll have a full report for you on Sunday.

I picked up another wonderful two-fer CD on the Collectibles label (they put out the Percy Faith two-fers), this one with the velvety trumpet stylings of Bobby Hackett playing music from Sweet Charity, Mame and Oliver. The Oliver tracks especially are really wonderful and I recommend this CD to one and all and also all and one. Bobby Hackett had one of the most beautiful trumpet tones of anyone – very lush and romantic – in fact, whenever we would record a ballad that had a trumpet solo I would always go whisper to our trumpet player to Bobby Hackett it. If you want to hear what I mean, pull out your Prime Time Musicals album and play One Starry Night.

I do have to keep these here notes very brief today because I’m in a rush to get to the signing. All too soon people will be knocking at my door and then we will all pile into my automobile and head over to the Beverly Garland. I do hope I’ll see a dear reader or two there.

Has anyone noticed that these notes have not one or even two whits of wit? Not a whit of wit, what’s wit’ that? How can I have allowed that to happen? Well, for one thing, I’m quite tired. For another thing, well, there in no other thing but I already wrote “for another thing” so I suppose I should make up another thing just so I can end this sentence. For another thing, I ate soup. One simply cannot have wit when one has eaten soup. So it is written, so it shall be.

Let’s all click on the Unseemly Button below and see if there’s any wit in the next section.

- Saturday, June 29, 2002 @ 12:54 AM PST

Friday, June 28, 2002

I am exhausted from that paragraph, it was so chockfull of merriment and gaiety. Certainly it got these here notes off on the right foot. I feel these here notes have been getting off on the left foot for far too long, so it is nice for these here notes to get off on the right foot. Last night I had the best Orange Chicken I’ve ever eaten, when I attended the birthday dinner of my friend, Mr. David Wechter. It was served at a restaurant called Yang Chow in Woodland Hills, and oh my was that Orange Chicken excellent. In fact, it was addictive and I could not stop eating it until it was all gone.

On that note (G#), let us all click on the Unseemly Button, because to not do so at this particular time would be heinous (heinous, do you hear me?).

- Friday, June 28, 2002 @ 09:29 AM PST

Thursday, June 27, 2002

I had several conversations during the day yesterday, good conversations all. I love having several good conversations during the day, don’t you dear readers? And will the result of these good conversations lead to good things? Well, as Mr. Cole Porter once said, You Never Know. I have a very busy day today. For example, this morning I am going to an art exhibit. My friend Debby’s daughter (seventeen years of age) has some paintings being shown in a gallery in Pasadena. She’s a very talented young girl and I, in fact, was the first person to ever purchase a painting from her – when she was thirteen. I own two of her paintings and they hang in my very own home. Then, after that, I shall be getting my hair trimmed by Mrs. Grant Geissman. Then I shall be going to a birthday dinner for my friend, Mr. David Wechter. Isn’t that exciting? Isn’t that just too too?

Well, you won’t believe it, dear readers. I didn’t believe it and there it was in front of my own eyes. I just went to amazon.com and The First Nudie Musical DVD sales rank is 146. Yes, Virginia, we just broke 150 as I was so hoping we would. Since the numbers seem to change hourly, I have no idea how long that will last, but let no one say we didn’t break 150, because if no one says that I will bat no one over the head, the ungrateful ort. It’s a very exciting time right now, I must say. I must and I did.

Well, we’ve had an awful lot of questions and therefore we have an awful lot of answers. I think we should get to them right now, otherwise you’ll be reading these here notes until the cows come home. So, why don’t we all just click on the Unseemly Button below and see what answers I’ve come up with to your excellent questions.

- Thursday, June 27, 2002 @ 12:04 AM PST

Wednesday, June 26, 2002

Last night I dreamed I was at Manderley.

My dream was a corker, let me tell you that. In my dream, I was shooting baskets on a basketball court. Now, those who know me know that only in a dream would I be shooting baskets on a basketball court, because fifty-four year old Jews don’t look right shooting baskets on a basketball court. As I was shooting baskets on a basketball court, I met a professional basketball player – a Caucasion who was 7’8 inches tall. I came up to just above his waist, so maybe he was even taller than that. In fact, I’d say he was the tallest Caucasion professional dream basketball player who ever lived (at least in a dream). We playfully shot some baskets together, but I couldn’t keep up because all he had to do was walk up to the basket and drop the ball through it. Hardly cricket, but then we were playing basketball so what did cricket have to do with anything? In any case, there we were, minding our own business, when two bullies came up and challenged us to a game. I didn’t want to play, being a fifty-four year old Jew and all, but we agreed anyway. Before we started, these bullies wheeled in a dangerous-looking machine, which they set up. We got very nervous that this machine was somehow Nuclear, and we threatened to turn these bullies in to the authorities. They merely laughed at us and told us the machine was not Nuclear, not dangerous at all, that it was, in fact, a telecine machine. Now, what these two bullies were doing on a basketball court with a telecine machine is not known to me at this time, because at the very moment I was going to find out the answer to that most interesting question, the phone rang and I was awakened from my dream. Wasn’t that an interesting dream? Wasn’t that just too too? I have no idea what any of it meant, but it was probably just the result of the intensely annoying headache I had last night.

Did you know that at amazon.com we finally broke the top two hundred best selling DVDs? I posted that information yesterday, but am posting it again today because I was so giddy with happiness. Of course, it was a Hollow Victory because today we are back at 212 or something, but yesterday we managed to get to 176. Did you also know that at amazon.com they say that people who have bought The First Nudie Musical on DVD have also purchased Citizen Kane on DVD? What a fine double bill that would make, after all they do have something in common, which is the directors of both films were but a mere twenty-seven when they made them. Did you know that amazon.com also raised the price of the DVD, so that it is now cheaper (cheaper, do you hear me?) to purchase a signed copy here than a non-signed copy there?

My goodness, this first section has become unwieldy, hasn’t it? I look at this first section and I think “unwieldy” immediately. Well, let us combat this unseemly unwieldiness by clicking on the unwieldy Unseemly Button. If something can be “unwieldy” can something else be “wieldy”? Isn’t “wieldy” a Jerry Lewis word? Okay, let’s all put on our Jerry Lewis voices and say unwieldy as we click on the Unseemly Button below. On the count of three: One, two, three: Unwieldy as we click on the Unseemly Button below.

- Wednesday, June 26, 2002 @ 09:37 AM PST

Tuesday, June 25, 2002

What am I, Ebert and Roeper all of a sudden? In case anyone missed my post yesterday, all the books and CDs have been shipped and should be to you shortly. Any orders subsequent to yesterday will most likely go out the day they’re received. So, if you enjoy the DVD or book, tell your friends, tell your neighbors, tell the man in the street or the trees in the park and get them over here to haineshisway.com, or to amazon or barnesandnoble.com (Benjamin Kritzer is now available for order at Barnes and Noble online, but strangely not at amazon yet – the DVD is available at both, plus in stores everywhere). Well, that was a self-serving bit of self-promotion, wasn’t it? How unseemly. Continuing along these unseemly lines, if you enjoy the DVD you should go to amazon and post your “review”. If you enjoy the book you should go to barnesandnoble.com and post your “review”.

Well, we have several High Winners and one Highest Winner in our handy-dandy Unseemly Trivia Contest. But we’ll get to that in a moment. First we must all do the dreary Unseemly Button thing. O, tis a drear drear thing we must do. To push the drear Unseemly Button – perhaps we should eat a cheese slice whilst doing it – after all, a cheese slice a day helps the Unseemly Button go down.

- Tuesday, June 25, 2002 @ 09:05 AM PST

Monday, June 24, 2002

In case you forgot, the auction yesterday was an auction from the archives of Playboy, and let me tell you those five hundred lots were the tip of the iceberg. There is much more iceberg in those archives and if Hef is happy with the results of the auction (I can’t imagine he wouldn’t be) then there will be more coming. You may be wondering why I would call Mr. Hugh Hefner “Hef” as if I knew him well enough to call him Hef. Well, I’ll telly you why because you, as dear readers, have the right to know. Did you know, for example, that for one year’s time that I worked for Hef and Playboy? No, I didn’t think you knew that because that is a little-known fact. It was, I believe, in 1982 or 1983 or a bit of both, and Playboy was doing a cable show called Playboy on the Air. My agent received a call one fine day and was told that I was being offered a job (offered!) as the Playboy on the Air Sex News Reporter (sort of their Andy Rooney of Sex News). I would write my own stuff and perform it weekly and I had carte blanche to do what I wanted. Naturally being curious, I asked why I was being offered the job, and I was told that I was Mr. Hefner’s personal idea. Yes, Virginia, you heard that right – I was Mr. Hefner’s personal idea. That is because one of Mr. Hefner’s all-time favorite films ever is The First Nudie Musical. At that time, no film had ever been shown more than once at the mansion, but he used to run Nudie Musical over and over for people. Well, how could I turn that job down? I had a good deal of fun doing it, although it got harder and harder to come up with funny stuff every week – and I really didn’t like the producer I was working with, who I found an officious little prig – so, after a year, I quit. But that year was pretty grand – I had a blast doing my bits, and more importantly I became a regualar at the mansion, having achieved “A” list status. Every Friday night I would go to “movie night” and what a fine time was had by all. The first time I went I walked in the front door and felt totally out-of-place, not knowing anyone. Mr. Hugh Hefner saw me and he literally ran up to me like a little kid, and he gleefully shook my hand and told me I’d been his personal idea and how much he liked me and what I was bringing to his show. I thanked Mr. Hefner profusely, and he said the immortal words, “Call me Hef.” Here are two amusing anecdotes from the mansion: First, every time I would go into the movie room, find a seat and get comfy, here is what happened – Kareem Abdul Jabar would come in and sit in front of me. Every single time. So, I never really saw any movies because if Kareem Abdul Jabar sits in front of you you can’t see anything. Second, and you’ll love this – after the movie everyone was sort of left to their own devices – some went to the grotto to frolic, some went to private rooms to frolic – I always went to the game room and played Frogger. Can you believe it? I never once had a frolic. I played fershluganah Frogger. I also attended the two major pajama parties, one in summer, one in fall, and those were pretty darn amazing. Hef was a wonderfully kind man, a great host and I have some great photos of he and I from those days.

My goodness, I have been blathering on, haven’t I? I better get cracking, I’ve got CDs to duplicate, don’t I? Let’s all click on the Unseemly Button below, and I’ll tell you one more fun Playboy anecdote.

- Monday, June 24, 2002 @ 09:37 AM PST

Sunday, June 23, 2002

Yesterday, I taped this week’s radio show, which will be up this afternoon. We had a lot of fun doing it, although, as usual, it was in the morning so both Donald and I are endlessly clearing our throats. The first half of the show we talk about Benjamin Kritzer and I even read a couple of passages from the book, and I read them rather poorly as I recall. The second half of the show is about the Nudie DVD and we played songs from the included soundtrack CD and talked all about the movie. Do tune in and give it a listen.

Yesterday, I was asked if I had a list of the albums I’ve produced. I was going to put it in today’s notes, but apparently, for reasons I don’t understand, when I copied all my Word files over to this brand spanking new computer, that one didn’t see fit to come along. That one just stayed behind of its own volition, whatever the hell that is. So, I will copy it over later this evening and put it in tomorrow’s notes. In the meantime, dear reader Michael Shayne printed a fairly complete list which you can find in yesterday’s posts. It does include a lot of things that I don’t include on my list – i.e. things I executive produced or oversaw, and a few of my Bay Cities’ albums, which I never count (I don’t really know why – I did produce them, after all – it just seems that my real producing life started with Unsung Sondheim and Liz Callaway at Varese – the other albums, to me, were rehearsals). Michael’s list is missing just a handful of albums of the things I’ve produced, and quite a few of the things I “supervised”, which include many soundtracks at both Bay Cities and Varese. However, I was amazed that the list was as complete and accurate as it was.

Last night, Guy Haines and I went over to Grant Geissman’s studio and we recorded the vocals for Music to Read Benjamin Kritzer By. We should be finished mixing them by Monday morning, and I’m hopeful I can get them duplicated that very day, and get these here books and CD surprise shipped first thing Tuesday. Isn’t that exciting? Isn’t that just too too?

Have you ever had a day when you felt like a member of The Three Stooges? Today, for example, I’m in a Moe kind of mood. I just want to go poke some people in the eyes and slap some people in the head and say pithy and piquant things like, “Why you” and “Why I oughta”. Yesterday, I was in more of a Curly mood, feeling very nyuk nyuk and smart alecky. When the AOL freeze happened I was definitely in a Larry mood, pulling out my hair. Don’t you feel that The Three Stooges are an example of life itself? They were quite daring, you know, and very ahead of their time. When such things were taboo, for example, they were sleeping three in a bed. And haven’t there been days when you’ve wanted to take a hammer and crown someone? Yes, I feel we’ve all had Three Stooges moments, and I feel we are the better for it. Why am I writing about The Three Stooges? Sometimes these things just pop out and I have no control or power to stop them. And even if I did have control or power to stop them, I would just say “nyuk, nyuk, nyuk” to said control or power.

Well, let’s all click on the Unseemly Button below before we are bitch-slapped from here to eternity by our very own Mr. Mark Bakalor who, when he is in his bitch-slapping mode, is Moe Personified.

- Sunday, June 23, 2002 @ 09:41 AM PST

Saturday, June 22, 2002

The AOL freeze of yesterday was, according to AOL, a nationwide problem. Do you know what I find astonishing? Well, I’ll tell you what I find astonishing because why should I keep such a thing to myself when I could share it with you dear readers and you lurkers out there in the dark? What I find astonishing is that AOL can suffer a nationwide problem that lasts for over two hours and then, when they’re up and running again, not address it or apologize for any inconvenience to their paying users. A simple thing on their homepage (which changes almost by the minute anyway, so someone is there programming), would do wonders, wouldn’t it? I can assure them of one thing: Eventually, this kind of cocky behavior will be their downfull. Downfull? Why did I just type downfull when I clearly meant to type downfall? In any case, cockiness begets downfulls or downfalls and I find the best policy is never to be cocky, to just go about one’s business and always, if one is in business, let the paying users know what is going on.

Of course, even though it turned out to be a nationwide problem, I, of course, assumed it was my new computer. Luckily, before smashing it to smithereens I did some other tasks and, of course, everything else was working fine and dandy and also dandy and fine. Fine and Dandy were also, of course, a wonderful but little known vaudeville team. I have one of their routines on an old 78. Here’s a sample:

Dandy: Hello, you’re looking fine today.

Fine: Of course I look fine. I am fine. When you’re fine you look fine.

Dandy: I’m fine, too, thanks for asking.

Fine: You’re fine, too? That’s a coincidence. Are we related?

Dandy: Where do you come up with these things? I say I’m fine, and you say are we related.

Fine: Well, if you’re fine and I’m fine we might be related. And why do you have a fried egg on your head?

Dandy: I’ll get to that later. Listen, shmo, why, if we’re both fine, does that make us related? Your logic defies me.

Fine: Well, my logic doesn’t like you. All right, we’re not related. How could I be related to someone like you? There, are you happy? Do you feel dandy now?

Dandy: How else should I feel? I’m Dandy, of course I feel dandy.

Fine: Good. I feel dandy, too.

Dandy: You do and I’ll knock you on the ground.

Fine: What are you getting so crazy for? Just because I feel dandy?

Dandy: You do and I’ll knock you on the ground.

Fine: Shut up already. And why do you have that fried egg on your head?

Dandy: I’ll get to that later. Anyway, let’s not make a federal case out of it. I’m glad you are fine.

Fine: I feel dandy.

Dandy: You do and I’ll knock you on the ground.

Fine: What are you, a broken record? Why does my feeling dandy bother you so much?

Dandy: Well, I hardly know you.

Fine: So, I can’t feel dandy because you hardly know me?

Dandy: Exactly.

Fine: Okay, okay, I won’t feel dandy.

Dandy: Fine.

Fine: What?

Dandy: What?

Fine: You said Fine. I said what?

Dandy: I said fine. Why would you say what? Didn’t you hear me?

Fine: I heard you. You said Fine. When people say Fine I say what? And why do you have that fried egg on your head?

Dandy: I’ll get to that later. Well, remind me not to say hello to you next time I see you.

Fine: Dandy.

Dandy: What?

Fine: Dandy.

Dandy: What?

Fine: Are you deaf?

Dandy: No, I’m Dandy.

Fine: I’m dandy, too. We’re both dandy.

Dandy: We’re both dandy? That would be a fine kettle of fish.

Fine: No, the Fine kettle of fish is at my house. We’re having scrod.

Dandy: I don’t even know what you’re talking about anymore. I’ve got to go. It was nice seeing you again and I hope it’s the last time. Wouldn’t that be fine?

Fine: That would be dandy. And why do you have that fried egg on your head?

Dandy: Well, if you must know, I had a different egg on my head but somebody poached it.

Fine: Oh, that’s just dandy.

Dandy: That’s just fine.

BLACKOUT

Isn’t that a great routine? Well, now, we’d better click on the Unseemly Button below because I must dress and wend my way to Donald Feltham’s boudoir.

- Saturday, June 22, 2002 @ 10:25 AM PST

Friday, June 21, 2002

Well, in happier news, I received the Nudie Musical DVDs, and I actually managed to get all of your preordered copies to the post office yesterday, so they are on their merry way unless, that is, you asked me to hold your copy to get other cast member’s autographs. Isn’t that exciting? Isn’t that just too too?

Last night I was working on the special surprise that will come to all those who ordered their very own copies of Benjamin Kritzer from haineshisway.com. I suppose I shall now tell you exactly what that surprise is, because why should I keep such a thing from you any longer? In the book, there are several song quotes – so, I enlisted the aid of my close personal friend, Mr. Guy Haines and my other close personal friend, Mr. Grant Geissman, and we have recorded a mini-CD of five of the songs that are quoted within my very own novel. We are, of course, down to the wire in getting it finished in time to actually ship with the books (which should be here on Wednesday) but I have every hope that we, in fact, will finish and that everything will be fine and dandy and also dandy and fine. Isn’t that exciting? Isn’t that just too too? Music to Read Benjamin Kritzer By. I won’t reveal what the five songs are, that part we’ll keep a surprise.

Have I mentioned that AOL is frozen? Does Earthlink freeze? Because, frankly, other than the convenience, I’ve just about had it with dear sweet frozen AOL. I even just set up my other laptop and tried from there, and the same thing happens. Aohwell, we’ll just have to wait and see if this situation rights itself soon. According to a friend, it certainly was working earlier this morning.

This sort of thing is so annoying I can’t even think straight. I am now thinking crooked because of this sort of thing. Well, there is nothing to do but click on that Unseemly Button below, even though I currently can’t see the Unseemly Button below because dear sweet AOL is frozen, chilled, iced, frosted. Well, let’s click anyway, and whilst clicking let’s send a haineshisway.com collective bitch-slap to AOL.

- Friday, June 21, 2002 @ 11:13 AM PST

Thursday, June 20, 2002

I also listened to the Original Cast Recording of Two Gentleman of Verona, which has been issued on CD by Decca. My first complaint is on the cover, where it says “A Decca Broadway Cast Album”. Well, excuse me for living, but Two Gentleman of Verona was most certainly not a Decca Broadway Cast Album – it was issued on Atlantic Records. Yes, Decca Broadway now owns it, but I find it just a wee bit reprehensible that they rewrite history in this fashion. Frankly, I like to rewrite history in another fashion, for example, khaki pants and a Nudie Musical golf shirt, with a leopard-skin dickie. Decca Broadway has been doing this “A Decca Broadway Cast Album” thing for quite some time – putting their name on other labels’ albums and it rankles me every time I see it. Look at me – I am totally rankled. Rankled in a leopard-skin dickie which, of course, is also the name of a fine Meltz and Ernest song, which I will share with you tomorrow. Where was I? Oh, yes, Two Gentleman of Verona, “Not a Decca Broadway Original Cast Album”. My second complaint is the contents of the album. This is simply one of the worst scores ever written for a musical. It’s truly, mind-bogglingly awful. I do remember thinking the production was fun when I saw it, but to think that this thing won Best Musical over Follies, well, it’s enough to rankle you and make you want to wear a leopard-skin dickie. And the singing on this album – it gives caterwauling a whole new meaning. At least the road company of the show had Larry Kert and Stockard Channing. The people on this “Not a Decca Broadway Original Cast Album” are beyond repair and that includes the frequently off-pitch Raul Julia. Recommended only to people who like canker sores.

What am I, Ken Mandelbaum all of a sudden? I think I may have given a wrong impression, Gosford Park-wise, since several people told me to go back and watch it from the beginning. What happened was, I put on the DVD, watched the credits and then fell asleep. I awoke forty-five minutes later – however, I didn’t start watching the movie from that point, I went back to the credits and watched. I’m still only forty minutes into the film, and I’m sure I’ll enjoy the rest of it when I watch it this evening.

Well, let us not tarry or dally further. Let us get to your excellent questions which I will answer without being rankled, although I will still wear a leopard-skin dickie whilst answering them. So, let us all click on the Unseemly Button below without further delay.

- Thursday, June 20, 2002 @ 01:42 AM PST

Wednesday, June 19, 2002

First I had a meeting with a Broadway Producer and that meeting went swimmingly and we weren’t even at the pool. If all you Hainsies/Kimlets keep your digits crossed, I may have some very interesting and good news to report next week. I can say no more because, as some of you may know, in show business people talk a good game, shake many hands, but until you have it official it’s not official. In other words, I would hate to mention something and then have it not happen all of a sudden. We’d get all excited and then our excitement would be deflated and we must never deflate our excitement. We must, at all times, keep our excitement excited. I can and will only tell you that I shook hands twice.

I then went on to my next meeting, and spent two count them two lovely hours with the lovely Miss Cybill Shepherd. What a delight she is – bright, funny and beautiful (BFAB, in Internet lingo). I can’t really say what the meeting was in regards to, but hopefully I will soon be able to reveal that as well. So many mysterious goings on here at haineshisway.com, but believe me you will all be the first to know when the tail of the tale comes to pass.

Now, there are two events coming up which I can talk about and so I shall right this very minute. On Friday, June 28th, we are doing a DVD signing for The First Nudie Musical at a store called Laserblazer in West Los Angeles, at 10587 West Pico Boulevard, which is about three blocks east of Overland. The signing starts at 7:00 and there will be many cast members in attendance. If you’re in the area, you simply must stop by and have some cheese slices and ham chunks. It’s going to be a lot of fun, and we shall all be dressed in our pointy party hats and our colored tights and pantaloons. The following two days, June 29th and 30th, I will be at a Hollywood Memorabilia Show put on by Ray Courts. There will be many many celebrities in attendance, all signing autographs for the heady throngs (which, as you know, is better than the heady thongs). I shall be there, selling both novel and DVD, and best of all I’ll be sitting right next to our very own Susan Gordon, who will be giving her very own autographs to the heady throngs. There are always many interesting folks at these shows – at the last one I got to meet and greet with Miss Giselle McKenzie. Even Miss Carrie Fisher was at the last show, and her table was the most popular of all. I’ve gone to many of these shows over the years, and have been asked to participate before, but until now I didn’t really see the point of doing them. Out of all the ones I attended, would you like to know who had the longest line for autographs (even longer than Miss Carrie Fisher)? Well, I’ll tell you who had the longest line for autographs because why should I keep such information from you. Mr. Steve Reeves, that is who had the longest line for autographs. Mr. Reeves passed away a year or two, but I have to tell you that for a man who must have been over seventy at the time, he looked even more buff and toned than me and everyone else in the room. In any case, the memorabilia show takes place at the Beverly Garland Hotel in North Hollywood on Vineland, about three blocks north of Ventura Boulevard. You simply must stop by if you’re in the neighborhood, and say hello to Susan and myself.

Well, I do believe the clock on the wall is telling me it’s time for us to click on the Unseemly Button below. Did you know that the clock on the wall is a Benjamin Kritzer clock, which I purchased right here at haineshisway.com? Think about that whilst clicking away, dear readers.

- Wednesday, June 19, 2002 @ 10:23 AM PST

Tuesday, June 18, 2002

Cissy Wechter and I drove up on Friday and arrived at about four-thirty (the drive took approximately four-and-a-half hours - this information will be important later in this story). Some of the Wechter clan was already there, and some arrived shortly thereafter. Oh, what fun we had. I gambled a bit that first night, and then I gamboled the next day whilst sunning myself at the pool in the 105 degree sun. There is nothing like gambling and gamboling. Not to mention eating. Oh, did we eat. In any case, I must tell you, looking around the pool as I was sunning myself, I realized that next to most of the other men who were doing same I was quite buff and toned with abs and buns of steel. And the blonde bits in my hair were simply dazzling in the Las Vegas sun.

On Saturday night we saw something entitled Blue Man Group at the Luxor Hotel. It was fun, and the blue men were very talented as they did their blue thing. It was a very loud show although I did not use the earplugs they gave us. In fact, I put the earplugs in my nose, just to show everyone that there were various and sundried uses for earplugs. I gambled some more when we got back to the hotel.

By Sunday I was down approximately $150, which I didn’t think was too too terrible. That night we ate at the Rainforest Café at the MGM Grand. The Rainforest Café resembles a rainforest, hence the clever name. They have storms, and apes, and elephants and also food. I had the Fried Catfish platter which was most excellent. When we got back to our hotel, David Wechter and I played craps. Well, we bought in together and he played whilst I cheered him on and also had a turn at throwing the dice, which I did quite handily and with a vivacious verve. We had some good luck, some bad luck and by the end of it all we’d lost $22.50 apiece (David had already won hundreds of dollars by himself, the brute). So, I was down about $175. However, at dessert that night I won a ten-dollar Keno.

Monday, prior to our departure, David and I pooled our money again and played craps (David had already won hundreds more that morning prior to my joining him, the brute). David was wearing his very own Benjamin Kritzer golf shirt, and that brought us some excellent luck. In fact, we could not lose. Eventually someone rolled a seven and ended the play, but not until we’d amassed enough money to cover what I was down and put me squarely in the “win” column. I haven’t left Vegas a winner in years.

Then Cissy and I headed home at two o’clock. We breezed along for the first half of the trip. Then, in Hesperia, things came to a crashing halt. Traffic simply stopped. We turned on the radio to find that there was a major brush fire and that the freeway was closed in both directions. It took an hour and fifteen minutes to go three miles, where they then diverted us in a circle to go back to Victorville or thereabouts. Wisely, we didn’t follow instructions and instead turned right where others were turning left to circle back. We went into a diner and the waitress gave us roundabout directions to get home an entirely different way. We ate a sandwich, and at six-forty we went on our merry way, new directions in hand. It took quite awhile to get to our destination, the 14 Freeway. Just before getting there, there was a major jam-up because several other people had had the same idea as us. In any case, we got to the 14 Freeway and, because there was a huge truck in front of us blocking our view, we took the first entrance we came to. Wrong. Mistake. Uh uh. Bad. We drove twenty miles out of our way before we finally realized that if we kept driving we’d end up in Oakland or somewhere. We turned around and headed back from whence we came. I finally arrived home at 10:00, a mere eight hours after we’d started out. Considering that I’m a major claustrophobic in traffic, I remained surprisingly calm for most of the trip. I did use an expletive to a Highway Patrol officer who wouldn’t answer a simple question. As we pulled off the freeway to circle around we asked him what kind of detour we were supposed to take and he brusquely ignored the question and snapped, “Keep moving”. I rolled down the window and said, “You sir, are an oleaginous ort and a poop”. He pretended he didn’t hear me as we drove on. I mean, honestly, who do these Highway Patrol people think they are? Someone should have been out there on a megaphone or something, informing people as to what was going on. Whatever happened to the Helpful Highway Patrol? No, now they’re the Highfalutin’ Highway Patrol. Broderick Crawford would have been appalled.

Well, wasn’t that a good surprise? Wasn’t my elaborate but cunning ruse cunning and elaborate? My house was safe and sound and no uncouth interlopers had interloped. And now you know the whole story, a bit late, yes, but in its entirety.

Now, I will ask this one more time – what has happened to our posters? We only had fifteen paltry posts yesterday – what was there was cherce, and I will, of course, take quality over quantity, but we must have quantity, too, mustn’t we? Post, post, post (that is three posts) or I shall have to be bitch-slapping the errant and truant. In the meantime, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below to find out our other Surprise O’ The Day?

- Tuesday, June 18, 2002 @ 09:01 AM PST

Monday, June 17, 2002

For various and sundried reasons I have to keep these notes short today, and that reason will become clear tomorrow. Did you know that on a clear day you can see forever? And tomorrow we shall have a clear day and we shall see forever and ever and ever and ever and evermore. Today is not a clear day so we shall only see forev. Did you know that on a clear day they call the wind Maria? Did you know that in West Side Story they call the wind Maria? Maria/Maria. Mareyeyah/Mareeeeya. Oh, let’s call the whole thing off.

What is this, Alan Jay Lerner day? Did you know that if you ask for permission to do an Alan Jay Lerner show, they give you a Lerner’s permit? We don’t allow groaning here at haineshisway.com. If I paint your wagon on the street where you live will you take me to the fair? If I remember it well will you come back to me? When we had the rain in spain was it the night they invented champagne? Did you know that every time I see Lolita, my love that I thank heaven for little girls? Did you know that when they call the wind Maria they’re really calling it Gigi? Did you know that when you come to me, bend to me that it’s almost like being in love? Did you know that if Kathleen Turner had married Alan Jay Lerner she’d be Kathleen Turner Lerner?

Well, that was fun, wasn’t it? Perhaps every day will be a composer or lyricist day here at haineshisway.com. What do you think of that idea?

Well, dear readers, I do believe it is time to click on the Unseemly Button below, so let’s do so with great and fervent élan.

- Monday, June 17, 2002 @ 10:15 AM PST

Sunday, June 16, 2002

Now, I must tell you that we had very low traffic here at haineshisway.com yesterday. We were at dangerously low traffic levels yesterday – you could walk the streets of haineshisway.com yesterday with nary a Hainsie/Kimlet in sight or, for that matter, site. After all, we have been on quite an upward swing, and suddenly yesterday we were on a downward swing, and we Hainsies/Kimlets cannot allow that to happen. At this rate, June will not have been as popular as May. May, as you know, was much more popular that April and April was much more popular than March. So, let’s do our part, let’s pull our weight (no mean feat), let’s win one for the gipper, let’s keep moving onward and upward, let’s hit the heights, let’s shake our collective booty, let’s travel the disco highway, let’s keep our collective eye on the sparrow, let’s stay up on our toes, let’s stay up where we belong, let’s face the music and dance, let’s begin the beguine, let’s boogie, let’s have everything the traffic will allow so that everything’s coming up roses. After all, if you start taking a day off, then I shall have to start taking a day off and then the next thing you know we’ll all be taking a day off, and the Internet would be a less happy place, would it not? So, get off your collective keysters, and let’s have fun, fun, fun (that is three funs) every single day. Let’s make June, June, June the best month of all. Furthermore, if you wish to know which major Hollywood Star I’ll be meeting with on Tuesday, you must do your part. Besides, also on Tuesday I will let you in on a big surprise which will surprise you which, after all, is the point of a surprise.

In the meantime, let us all click on the Unseemly Button below and see what the next section has to offer.

- Sunday, June 16, 2002 @ 10:07 AM PST

Saturday, June 15, 2002

My roses are in bloom, and so are my snap dragons and various and sundried other flowers. Isn’t that exciting? Isn’t that too too? I love flowers, they’re so colorful and gay. Why am I talking about my fershluganah flowers when the cleaning lady will be here at any moment? If I am still at this table typing away when she arrives she will give me, at the very least, a sidelong glance and if she does that then I have to look at her askance, and then after the sidelong glance and the look askance we will start doing the “Why Don’t You Get Out of This House” dance.

Have I mentioned that I have dead gnats in my hall bathroom? Have I mentioned that I have balls in the air? Have I mentioned that I have a meeting with a big Hollywood Star on Tuesday? Yes, Virginia, you heard that right, I shall be having a meeting with a big Hollywood Star on Tuesday. I’ll be that just whetted your appetite, didn’t it? I’ll bet that just made you sit up and take notice, didn’t it? I’ll bet that just made all of you scratch your collective heads and think, “Who could the Hollywood Star be?” didn’t it? Well, I shall tell you in due time, dear readers. Oh, yes, in due time I shall tell you. But for now you will simply have to have whetted appetites. Frankly, or even Charlesly, I like to have a wet appetite rather than a whet appetite, but that is just a whim of mine – or is it a wim of mine?

Well, I’m afraid we must all click on the Unseemly Button below because we are simply running out of time, cleaning-lady wise.

- Saturday, June 15, 2002 @ 10:14 AM PST

Friday, June 14, 2002

Luckily, today is Friday, which means it’s a short notes day, because yesterday’s notes were like War and Peace, they were endless and long but still a classic of Russian literature. Today’s notes will be a classic of rushin’ literature.

The weather here in Los Angeles, California, has been frightfully beautiful. Can something be frightfully beautiful? The days have been sunny and hot and the nights have been cool and dark. Has anyone noticed that I am writing about the fershluganah weather, for heaven’s sake? That is what these notes have come to, a weather report. What’s next? Sports?

Our very own Mr. Donald Feltham won some kind of contest, some Tony guessing contest. Isn’t that exciting? Isn’t that too too?

Has anyone noticed that these here notes are herky-jerky and also jerky-herky? They seem to be written in fits and starts, in spasmodic spurts, in bits and pieces. This is what happens when you are a rushin’ notes writer. Oh, by the way (BTW in Internet lingo) in reading through yesterday’s notes I noticed many typos – they were so long and endless that I never had a chance to go through them and fix. I will however. I will fix those disgusting typos and it will be as if they were never there. The typos will simply disappear and it will all be very Orwellian and won’t that be swellian.

Well, I feel we should all click on that Unseemly Button below, so I can finish these here rushin’ notes.

- Friday, June 14, 2002 @ 08:58 AM PST

Thursday, June 13, 2002

Last night I started to watch a motion picture entitled The Mothman Prophecies. I knew I was in deep trouble in the first thirty seconds when Richard Gere, as an ace Washington Post reporter, sits at his desk taking down some information on the phone and says, “That’s with a “y”, right?” Then they cut to a piece of paper he’s writing on and we see that he’s just finished writing the “y” on the name Mary. Now, I don’t know about you, dear readers, but how many ways are there to spell Mary and how many of them don’t involve the letter “y”? Was he thinking it was spelled Maree? Did he think it was spelled Merree? I mean, when the ace reporter of the Washington Post has to ask if it’s Mary with a “y” then you know you are not in safe writing, directing and acting hands. Then, the ace reporter and his annoyingly “actressy” wife go look at a house they’re thinking about buying. They leave the real estate agent downstairs while they go upstairs to look around. They go into a closet and immediately begin to fondle and cavort – then they get on the floor and start getting ready to have sex. But still I watched. Then they are driving home and she causes them to get in a car accident when she sees some weird apparition. I was so annoyed by then that I just turned the damned thing off. I mean, honestly, “Mary, is that with a ‘y’”?

I also got a great six CD box set of soundtrack music from the films of Akira Kurosawa. They’ve done three of these six CD box sets and they cover his entire career from the forties through the nineties, twelve discs all told. I got volume two, which has the complete soundtracks to Yojimbo, Sanjuro, High and Low, Red Beard and then a disc which has dialogue and music from High and Low and Red Beard and the final disc which is some kind of weird “singles” collection. Most of the music in this set is by Masaru Sato and it’s wonderful, especially High and Low, one of my favorite Kurosawa films (based on an Ed McBain 87th Precinct novel, King’s Ransom). It’s very pricey, but I am loving every minute of it.

Well, I must not tarry or dally or dally or tarry any further, because you posed many excellent questions yesterday and I must answer them to the best of my ability. You’ve given me the third degree and also the seventh degree and I will give you answers in both of those degrees. So, let’s all click on the Unseemly Button below and get right to those answers.

- Thursday, June 13, 2002 @ 12:54 AM PST

Wednesday, June 12, 2002

There are now beans all over my nice kitchen floor because I spilled the beans. This is what happens when you spill the beans, so I don’t spill the beans very often, because who wants to clean up a bunch of beans lying on the floor like so much fish? Did you know that my old laptop computer is on the fritz? Fritz, I must say, is getting a lot more action than I am.

Last night, for fun, I listened to the commentary track for Mr. Sidney Lumet’s The Verdict. It’s advertised on the package as Audio Commentary by Sidney Lumet and Paul Newman. Mr. Lumet has many interesting things to say about the making of the film and his choices. As to Mr. Paul Newman, he enters the commentary track about fifteen minutes before the end of the film and he speaks for exactly four minutes. It’s too bad because it would have been fun to hear him say more than he does. But it’s worth it to hear Mr. Lumet, so if you’ve gotten the disc you should give the commentary a listen.

I had a friend over the other day and we were doing some work in the back yard – I don’t mean we were mowing or hoeing or plowing or anything like that, no, we were doing actual work work, and my friend saw the singing bird and was amazed at how good this bird, in fact, was. We both feel that this bird could have a major career in musical theater, if only someone would write a role for a singing bird. What is with these new composers anyway? These damn show people just don’t know from birds. While we were out there doing our work, this bird did the entire score to Kean. I mean, it was brilliant. And it’s not as if this bird isn’t a comely bird, in fact I would say this bird is extremely comely. It has a beautiful blue streak on its tummy and is very graceful. When it does some Bob Fosse choreography, which it likes to do every now and then, it wows me every time, especially when it does Steam Heat. It does Steam Heat alone, it doesn’t even need two other birds to do the other parts, that’s how good this bird is. Where is David Merrick when you need him? If David Merrick were alive, we’d have not only Bye Bye Birdie, we’d have Hello, Birdie. If only we’d had Sweet Smell of the Bird we might have had a hit instead of a show doing a quick and painful foldo. Anyway, if Jason Robert Brown or any of the other up-and-coming composers are reading these here notes, get off your butt cheeks and write a show for this bird.

Well, I think we should all get off our various and sundried butt cheeks and click on that Unseemly Button below before we have any dangling questions or spill some more beans.

- Wednesday, June 12, 2002 @ 09:41 AM PST

Tuesday, June 11, 2002

Last night, if I recall correctly (IIRC, in Internet lingo) was that show that dear reader, Robert Armin directed, that Musicals of 1964 thing. I was reading some very nice posts about it elsewhere – in fact, one person, who is also a “reviewer” of theater music for that particular site, praised just about everything and mentioned just about everyone except our very own Robert Armin. I think this gentleman needs to be bitch-slapped, don’t you? I hereby elect our very own dear reader, Mr. Craig Brockman, to go over and bitch-slap that “reviewer” from here to eternity.

Last night I attended a little show myself, over at the Jazz Bakery. I like the Jazz Bakery because it is located in what used to be Helms Bakery. You will know what that means when you read my very own novel. If you do not read my very own novel you will not know what it means, hence you will not be in the know, you will not be with it, you will not be in the loop, you will not be cool, man, cool, and a hep cat, you will not be hip, you will not be in with the in crowd, you will not be in the scene, man. In any case, performing last night was Mr. Bill Dana, who’d appeared in our Tourette’s Syndrome benefit. I find him most amusing, and he did Jose Jimenez (unfortunately, his straight men were the band, not a good thing – these boys should not go into comedy). The first half of the evening was a singer named Patty Clark, I think. I knew for sure, but then these fershluganah gardeners started mowing in front of the window and I can no longer think and I can no longer remember if “Clark” is her last name. I did not know Miss Patty Whatever-her-last-name-is, but I liked her voice quite a bit. She apparently was a band singer in days of yore and even had her own radio show. I’d venture to say she is in her seventies now, but her voice retains it’s silky sexiness and she can still belt them out when needed. She’s very tall. This was a tall woman. And she is very animated, which made me nervous as there were wires on the stage and rugs and she almost tripped several times (she dances all over the stage like mad). She has several weird things she does, like closing her eyes for most of the songs (she keeps her eyes closed when she’s bowing, too) and she has a habit of telling the audience what the lyrics are before she actually sings the song. But it’s the voice that counts, and the voice is excellent.

Pre show, I supped at Kate Mantelini’s on Wilshire Boulevard. I had the shrimp and crab salad with Louie dressing. I wish Louie had dressed before I ate the salad, because frankly who wants to watch Louie dress while they’re eating? The salad was quite tasty with the exception of the mutant olives. The olives were tiny shriveled up wizened little nubs and clearly mutants. I think maybe they’re called Greek olives, but that’s just trying to slap a name on something and make it seem normal. These tiny shriveled up wizened little nubs were mutants I’m telling you, and in days of yore such things would never have been in a salad – no, a salad of yore would have had nice big juicy olives with holes in them so you could put them on your fingers.

The singing bird is outside, singing songs from 1964 Broadway musicals – of course, the singing bird gave due credit to Robert Armin.

Perhaps we should simply all click on the Unseemly Button below or I shall have nothing whatsoever to write in the next section. Wouldn’t that be a fine kettle of cheese slices and ham chunks if we were all to go to the next section and it was blank? That would be unseemly, so let us all click right this very minute before such a thing can happen.

- Tuesday, June 11, 2002 @ 09:45 AM PST

Monday, June 10, 2002

Last night I dreamed I was at Manderley.

I had very disturbing dreams last night. I don’t even want to write about them because they involved people and things I cannot stomach. Not only can I not stomach them, I can’t feet them, I can’t arm them, and I can’t throat them. So, I will not be writing about my dreams from last night, because frankly or even stevely, I cannot stomach or any other body part the people and things said dreams were about.

Last night I watched the motion picture entitled The Verdict. I hadn’t seen it since it came out and I had very little memory of its plot. What a fine film The Verdict is. The type of film they no longer seem to be able to make. A non-hyped courtroom drama, subtle and well-crafted, with not one overt show-off cinematic moment. Just a beautifully written (David Mamet) and directed (Sidney Lumet) film. It was up for several Oscars and lost them all. The most disgusting loss was Mr. Paul Newman to Mr. Ben Kingsley in that ponderous piece of plastic known as Gandhi. Watching Mr. Newman in this film is a two-hour lesson in what great screen acting is all about. In fact, watching everyone in this film is a lesson in what great screen acting is all about. The marvelous cast also includes Jack Warden, Charlotte Rampling, Edward Binns, Lindsay Crouse, Roxanne Hart, and the always great James Mason. The judge is played by Milo O’Shea, and he’s so good that you want to just throw a squishy vegetable at him. The other truly wonderful performance in the film, albeit a brief one, is by the very underrated actor, Wesley Addy, as one of the doctors on trial. Addy was always terrific, and never finer than in this film and in John Frankenheimer’s Seconds. For you musical theater mavens, Mr. Addy was also married to Miss Celeste Holm. What I really like about this film is that despite evil machinations by the opposing side, despite witnesses being bought, despite all the money in the world, despite abuse of the judicial system, justice can prevail. I recommend this to one and all and also all and one. The enhanced transfer is excellent and really shows off the understated but great cinematography of Andrzej Bartkowiak. The score is by Johnny Mandel and it’s terrific, very sparse and spare and just perfect. If this film were made today, every dramatic point would be underlined by loud music, there would be pop songs coming out of the juke box in the bar, every door closing would sound thunderous, the camera would be doing Steadicam dances, and the actors would all be trying to win Academy Awards. It’s just really hard to believe that in twenty years time movie making, just classic simple movie making has degenerated like it has.

What am I, Ebert and Roeper all of a sudden? Well, like the Phoenix, I have risen and being that that is the case, isn’t it time to click on the Unseemly Button below? Yes, I do believe it is time to click on the Unseemly Button below because I have said what I have to say in this section and I can say no more. When one has said all they can say in a section it is time to click on any Unseemly Button in sight or, in the case of haineshisway.com, in site.

- Monday, June 10, 2002 @ 10:02 AM PST

Sunday, June 9, 2002

Last night I dreamed I was at Manderley.

In my dream, I was somewhere doing something (that part is already too hazy to remember), when up pulled a white Cadillac. Out of the white Cadillac stepped Nancy Sinatra who was dazzlingly dressed all in white. Someone was with her (her manager?) and he, too, was dressed all in white and he had white makeup, like a mime, on his face. I went up to Nancy and she remembered me right away. She looked stunning, although I noticed that somehow Nancy was now a cross between herself and Ann-Margret. I then woke up from that dream. Wasn’t that an excellent dream? I call that dream The White Dream, because everything was dazzlingly white, like the cover of The Beatles’ The White Album. That dream had deep deep meaning and if anyone knows what it was, please tell me because I haven’t the faintest idea. I then thought about getting up to go to the bathroom, but before I could I fell back asleep, at which point I had the next dream. In the next dream I was in Las Vegas with the Wechters (and I will be soon, so dreams do come true) – we were being shown to our rooms, which were very strange as I recall. In any case, I was led through a door, presumably to my room, yet I found myself outside and the bellhop was running away, laughing. I wandered around, trying to figure out how to get back in the hotel, which I suppose I did. In the next bit, David Wechter and I were sitting in some theater, and we were fooling around with decks of cards, which we both had. There was some comedian going up and down the aisle for some reason, and he pointed at David and I and said, “They’re cheating.” Suddenly, seven security guards approached us, as the theater was emptied. They gave us the third degree, they grilled us mercilessly, especially one swarthy punk – no matter how we tried to tell them we were just fooling around with decks of cards, they wouldn’t believe us. They let David go, but they held me. Then, one of the security guards was looking through a book and found a rule that said that customers could fool around with cards, and do anything they liked with those private decks of cards, including cheat (even though we were not cheating). Apparently, this was a new rule because it was written in the book in a color different than the rest of the rules. Everyone suddenly apologized profusely, but I only cared about the swarthy punk apologizing, but he’d gone off duty and was nowhere to be found. Then I woke up. Wasn’t that an excellent dream? Wasn’t that just too too? So fraught with meaning, so obtuse and oblique in its detail, don’t you think. Of course, I haven’t the foggiest idea of what any of it means. How come I don’t have the faintest idea what The White Dream means, and I don’t have the foggiest idea what the Las Vegas Dream means? For example, why don’t I have the foggiest idea about The White Dream and the faintest idea about the Las Vegas Dream? And if an idea can be foggiest can an idea be smoggiest? If an idea can be faintest can that idea be revived by smelling salts? I tried reviving a faintest idea by smelling salt but my salt has no smell. So, I left the idea lying on the ground like so much fish. I believe that these last few sentences are actually more obtuse and oblique than The White Dream and the Las Vegas Dream put together. In fact, I haven’t the faintest or the foggiest idea of what the hell I’m talking about.

Did you know that people were posting here until the wee hours of the morning? It’s true. In fact, I venture to say that while Nancy Sinatra/Ann-Margret was showing up in her dazzlingly white Cadillac, there was posting going on right here at haineshisway.com. I like that. I like that there is posting going on in the wee hours of the morning. If I recall correctly (IIRC, in Internet lingo) there were a few posts about the width of these here notes. First of all, these here notes seem to show up on different computers in different ways. But apparently, at times the column is very thin. That is because these here notes are toned and buff with abs and buns of steel. In any case, we can’t distract Mr. Mark Bakalor with such distractions, because he is hard at work designing our new Interview section. I’ve already begun doing the Interviews, and we’re hoping the first of them will be up and running by the end of this month, if not sooner.

Well, I do believe the time has come for all good Hainsies/Kimlets to click on the Unseemly Button. Oh, I know it’s a petty annoyance but let’s do it anyway, just to show the world at large that we are not petty about petty annoyances.

- Sunday, June 9, 2002 @ 10:22 AM PST

Saturday, June 8, 2002

Yesterday I received a DVD I?d purchased on eBay of Mr. Otto Preminger?s film of Exodus, which I?m rather fond of. No, Virginia, you won?t be finding said DVD at amazon because said DVD is one of these Hong Kong imports. What these people in Hong Kong do is just make DVDs off laserdiscs and then sell them very cheaply. They?re not very good quality (on a par with the laserdisc) but the film is letterboxed and close to four hours long, and since I can now only play laserdiscs in my bedroom I thought I?d purchase this cheap Hong Kong DVD in case I wanted to watch Exodus in my den. I like options, dear readers, and now I have one, Exodus-wise. One curious thing these clever Hong Kong DVD people have done ? they?ve turned the sound into 5.1 and mastered it very very loudly. However, they?ve placed eighty percent of the 5.1 sound in the rear speakers, so while you?re watching Paul Newman and Eva Marie Saint in front of you, they are speaking in back of you. That is very surrealistic, let me tell you. I don?t like it when people are in front of me and their voices come from in back of me. That just gives me the willies. Well, hopefully MGM/UA will get around to Exodus one of these fine days ? it would make a great enhanced for widescreen TVs DVD ? it was beautifully shot in 70mm, all on location. Exodus also features the screen debut of Jill Haworth, who would go on to play Miss Sally Bowles in the original Broadway production of Cabaret.

I?ve been reading a book all about the making of Sunset Boulevard. from film to Andrew Lloyd Webber. It?s by Sam Staggis, who wrote a similar tome on All About Eve. It?s fun, in a bitchy sort of way, but like all these guys who do these books, it?s filled with rumor, misinformation and occasional silliness. One does find out an awful lot about Sunset Boulevard, however, and some of the anecdotes are fun, plus Staggis did get to interview some people, and that?s fun, too. An example of the kind of silly mistake Staggis makes is this: He talks about Sondheim and Harold Prince?s involvement in trying to musicalize Sunset Boulevard (originally with Burt Shevelove doing the book, and then, for a brief moment, with Hugh Wheeler talked about for the book) ? as far as I know Sondheim never actually wrote a note of music, because he ran into Billy Wilder at a party and Billy told him he thought it would only work as an opera and Sondheim agreed with him and decided not to work on it. In any case, Staggis goes on to talk about Harold Prince and how he kept coming back to it occasionally. And then he says that the famous Follies poster was directly inspired by Gloria Swanson standing in the rubble of the torn-down Roxy Theater. Well, if he?d actually bothered to look at the Follies poster by David Byrd (which also graces the Original Cast album) he would know how ridiculous that statement is. What he means is that the whole feel of Follies was inspired by the famous photo of Gloria Swanson standing in the rubble of the Roxy. In any case, if you like Sunset Boulevard, some of this book makes for diverting reading.

What am I, a book critic all of a sudden? Did you know that I am an eBay addict? I will basically purchase anything on eBay. I have bought everything from menus to a Godzilla soap bubble toy. I love to use Buy It Now so I don?t Regret It Later. I love to buy things with my last name on them ? for example, I have a perfume bottle made by Kimmel, I have a set of Kimmel dessert plates, I have an Edison Recorded disc of Kimmel accordion songs, I have a tray from the 30s from Kimmel?s Valley View Ice Cream, I have two paintings by terrifically untalented artists named Kimmel, I have a pencil from Kimmel?s Spring Service in Sabetha, Kansas, and I have a copy of Pearl Harbor?s infamous Admiral Husband E. Kimmel?s autobiography. I also have a Kimmel stein, which I keep next to my Jule Styne. I feel all of you dear readers should go onto eBay and search your last names and purchase everything that has your last name on it. I have also found tapes of all my Donny and Marie appearances and I even watched them and they made me want to vomit.

Well, on that note (Ab) let us all click on the Unseemly Button below because it is late and I simply must get these here notes up and be on my merry way.

- Saturday, June 8, 2002 @ 10:43 AM PST

Friday, June 7, 2002

Being Friday, we will be having our usual side of notes, our usual soupcon of notes, because of the largeness of Thursday’s notes. Not only were Thursday’s notes extremely large, we also had a record number of posts (at least I think it was a record number of posts). Yesterday’s topic of discussion was a really popular one, and even though there were detours along the way, the detours were about cake so they were fine and dandy and also dandy and fine. Dandy and Fine were also a vaudeville team. Their act was apparently hilarious and from what I’ve read, involved a drainpipe, a tuba, and a ladle. "Ladle". That's a Jerry Lewis word, isn't it? Let's all put on our very best Jerry Lewis voice and say the word "ladle" on the count of three: One, two, three - "ladle". Excellent. What the hell am I talking about?

I don’t know why, but I haven’t shaved since Monday. I felt you should know this, dear readers. Did you know that if I were to grow a beard it would have lots of gray in it? Yes, Virginia, my beard would have lots of gray in it and I would look distinguished and intellectual, except for all the blonde in my hair – so, perhaps I’d look like a distinguished and intellectual surfer dude. In any case, I’m sure that I will shave today and this entire paragraph will become moot. Moot. Moot. No, no matter how many times you type the word “moot” it still looks stupid. In fact, I feel we should give the word “moot” the boot, don’t you? In fact, I feel we should give this entire paragraph the boot, don’t you?

I have not yet discovered the theme of today’s notes. Perhaps the theme of today’s notes should be A Summer Place. I like that theme very much, especially the Percy Faith version. Or, perhaps the theme of today’s notes should be Friendly Persuasion (Thee I Love) – I like that theme very much, too, especially as interpreted by Mr. Pat Boone. Maybe we could have some Friendly Persuasion in A Summer Place. Maybe we could have Friendly Persuasion in the Valley of the Dolls or, at the very least, in the Valley of the Gwangi. I just want some Friendly Persuasion because that is the theme of today’s notes. Unless the theme of today’s notes is Tara’s Theme, but if Tara’s Theme is the theme of today’s notes does that mean that Lara will get jealous if Lara’s Theme (Somewhere, My Love) isn’t the theme of tomorrow’s notes. Maybe Tara and Lara’s Themes could both be the theme of today’s notes, that way we would avoid any petty jealousy. Or, perhaps the theme of today’s notes should be the theme from The Conversation. Or, if we don’t want The Conversation then we could have the theme from The Silence. One way or another, today’s notes must have a theme and I shall ponder this whilst clicking on the Unseemly Button below which, by the way (BTW, in Internet lingo) also needs a theme.

- Friday, June 7, 2002 @ 10:00 AM PST

Thursday, June 6, 2002

Last night I watched all of Mr. Blake Edwards’ S.O.B. on D.V.D. and I did so whilst wearing my Nudie Musical boxer shorts. I must say, parts of it are really funny and a lot of it is really not very good at all. This is the film in which Miss Julie Andrews shows her “boobies” as she calls them. I have the feeling that this film is a real film a clef – isn’t that the film equivalent of a roman a clef? I think this is all about Mr. Edwards’ legendary flop, Darling Lili. I think this is Mr. Edwards’ revenge on Hollywood. As I said, some of it is right on target and beautifully staged, and some of it is pretentious and unfunny and labored. Still and all, if you’re a fan of Mr. Edwards, you must have it. William Holden is terrific, as is the over-the-top Richard Mulligan. Nice supporting turns from Robert Preston and Robert Vaughn.

What am I, Ebert and Roeper all of a sudden? Don’t I have excellent questions to answer? Why am I shilly-shallying when I should be shally-shillying? Why am I asking questions when I’m supposed to be answering them? Shouldn’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below so we can go on with the show? Yes, I think we should, and by gum and by golly I think we shall. How's that for an answer? Oops, that was a question, wasn't it?

- Thursday, June 6, 2002 @ 01:29 AM PST

Wednesday, June 5, 2002

Last night I dreamed I was at Manderley.

In my dream I was sitting in my car and a parking ticket officer came up and started writing me a parking ticket. It was after six p.m. and I told him rather indignantly, “Hey, you, get off of my cloud, it is after six o’clock.” He told me that he’d looked at my car and the meter before six o’clock and was therefore giving me a ticket. I told him that I’d put money in at five-forty and that he was full of a coprophiliac’s favorite thing. None of this dissuaded him from writing the ticket. I told him that I would see him in court, that I would fight it all the way. On he went, writing, not caring one or two whits. Then someone came over to the car and told me that Stephen Sondheim had called and that I should call him right back. I did, but he wasn’t there. Then I woke up and that is why I’m getting a late start writing these here notes, because of that damned parking ticket officer in my dream. You can blame it on him, you can blame it on Rio, you can blame it on the Bossa Nova, you can blame it on my youth (well, that’s a stretch), you can put the blame on Mame, but don’t blame me.

Yesterday I took a quick look at the transfers on the Blake Edwards DVDs. Victor/Victoria looks the best, really quite stunning. I do like most of that film very very much, and there are some classic Edwards moments that still make me howl every time I see them. For example, in the cockroach scene in the restaurant, no other director I know would have had the audacity to do what Edwards does just as the cockroach climbs up the leg. Just at the point where you know the reaction is coming, he cuts outside the restaurant (the shot is a wide shot from across the street) and we watch the ensuing pandemonium silently through the windows of the restaurant. Absolutely hilarious and visually wonderful. S.O.B. looks pretty good – it was shot on a much lower budget. The film itself has some really good things in it, but a lot of it just lays there like so much fish. The Great Race looks fantastic and is complete at 160 minutes. I saw this film the day it opened at the Pantages Theater and was very impressed by it’s visual splendor and great cast. I do remember not laughing very much, though, which I thought strange for a comedy. And as I watched the opening of the DVD I remembered why – it’s not very funny. It’s very big, it’s very long, it has its moments, but it’s not the tribute that Mr. Edwards wanted it to be (the film is dedicated to Mr. Laurel and Mr. Hardy). The direction is fine, but the script is weak and it’s a shame Mr. Edwards didn’t write it himself (or with another writer).

What am I, Ebert and Roeper all of a sudden? I’m really enjoying my new handy-dandy computer, but I have barely grazed the surface of it, I fear. For example, I know that I can load music and burn CDs in here, but I have no idea how to even begin that process. I have listened to CDs through the Windows Media Player, and I have even watched a little bit of the Nudie Musical DVD, which looked swell. The interesting thing about this here computer is that it comes with a rather large Owner’s Manual, which is unlike any other owner’s manual I’ve ever seen. Most owner’s manuals have a nice diagram of the product, with arrows showing you where everything is located. Most owner’s manuals tell you how each function works and how to do everything. Not this owner’s manual. This owner’s manual spends most of its pages on Solving Problems. It does tell you how to turn off the computer, though, so that’s good. And it does have a whole section on something called a Power Surge. Basically a power surge is not supposed to be good, but on a personal level I like a nice power surge. For example, if I eat a box of See’s Dark Chocolate Nuts and Chews, I get a power surge. I’m here, I’m there, I’m bouncing off the walls (no mean feat). But, apparently, one doesn’t want their computer to be here and there and bouncing off the walls, so that is the difference between a human and a computer in a nutshell. I’ll bet you didn’t even know you could find the difference between a human and a computer in a nutshell. For example, I didn’t know I could find the difference between a human and a computer in a nutshell, and yet when I opened a nutshell to get out a nut, in addition to the nut I found the difference between a human and a computer. What the hell am I talking about?

My goodness, that was a large paragraph. The only thing to do after a large paragraph such as the one above, is to click on the closest Unseemly Button, which is exactly what I’m going to do in a nutshell. Well, I hope I can do it in a nutshell, although I am bigger than a nutshell and I don’t know whether I’ll fit in the fershluganah nutshell.

- Wednesday, June 5, 2002 @ 09:53 AM PST

Tuesday, June 4, 2002

In any case, this here brand spanking new computer is very spiffy indeed. It has a handy-dandy DVD player, and a CD burner, and Free Cell, and all manner of fun doodads and dadoods. There are some new things for me to get used to and I shall endeavor to get used to them quickly, within the next two years.

My goodness we had spirited discourse here at haineshisway.com yesterday, didn’t we? That Tony broadcast brought out various and sundried passions – but we retained our dignity and it didn’t turn into a slug-fest. Slug-fests are unseemly, you know, and we must never sink to that level. We leave that to other websites and newsgroups and chat boards. We do not get down in the mud here at haineshisway.com, unless, that is, we’re having a mud wrassling contest, in which case we all put on our Speedos and get in that mud with great glee and wrassle until the cows come home. Did you know that the farmer and the cowman should be friends? I learned that on the Tony Awards broadcast. Do you think the cowman is waiting for the cows to come home? Conversely, do you think the farmer is waiting for the farm to come home? Do you think the farmer is in the dell, or perhaps in the Dell computer? These are the questions that haunt the windmills of my mind like a circle in a spiral like a wheel within a wheel. What the hell am I talking about?

Well, we have a few High Winners in our Unseemly Trivia Contest, and one Highest Winner. We’ll get to that in a little while, just a little while. Do you know what else I learned on the Tony Awards? I learned that everything today is thoroughly modern. I didn’t know that, but now I do, and all because of the Tony Awards broadcast.

I’ll say one thing for this Dell computer – it’s very easy to use and very quiet except for the little annoying clicking noises it occasionally makes, as if little people were in their clucking their tongues like mad poultry. Have you ever been in the company of mad poultry? There is nothing worse than mad poultry, let me tell you. You just want to stay out of the way of mad poultry because there is no telling what they will do at any given moment. For example, I once saw an insane chicken try to eat its own feet. Oh, that was frightening. There goes that clicking noise again. It’s like someone is in there scratching, trying to get out. Oh, well, I shall pay it no heed and no mind, nor shall I pay it any money. The clicking has stopped, and now it sounds as if someone is in the computer vacuuming. My other laptop didn’t make the vacuuming noise unless Ed Norton’s Anti-Virus thing was running. And there goes that scratching/clicking sound again. Just what in tarnation is going on inside this computer? Perhaps one of you computer people can tell me.

Well, I see no reason we shouldn’t all click on the Unseemly Button below, because I happen to think that we’ve spent way too much time here in this first section and if we stay here one minute longer we shall all become as mad as mad poultry and we will try to eat our own feet. Quick, click before we are footless and fancy-free.

- Tuesday, June 4, 2002 @ 09:06 AM PST

Monday, June 3, 2002

I really don’t know where to begin. Do I begin by saying that to only give acting and best play and musical awards during the network broadcast is insulting and insane? That would be like only giving the acting and Best Picture awards at the Oscars. It is shameful – I would rather have the entire broadcast on PBS, or no broadcast at all, rather than the travesty that I witnessed this evening. As I said yesterday, the problem begins with Radio City Music Hall, just about as wrong a venue as you could ask for. It’s a barn, and they fill up the barn by selling tickets to rabid fans of each nominated actor and musical. Every time the name Urinetown was spoken you could hear the screaming issue forth. Every time Thoroughly Modern Millie was mentioned, another group of crazed fans screamed. About the tenth time that this happened, I screamed.

The coverage on the musical numbers was nothing short of grotesque. The sound was nothing short of grotesque. The “tribute” to Richard Rodgers was nothing short of grotesque and if they were going to do it, how did they have the nerve and/or stupidity to open the show with it? The New York Medley – please. If they’d cut that, Elaine Stritch might have gotten to finish her speech (although she seemed not to be able to focus and get on with it – I know she was angry as hell and not going to take it anymore, but when you begin to fumfer like that and turn away from the mic and not know who to look at, well, it does put the producers of the program in a bind – however, they should have let her continue a bit longer; the way in which they handled it was an embarrassment to all). If they’d cut the New York Medley we might have had the pleasure, and I do mean pleasure, of seeing Miss Julie Harris accept her lifetime achievement award. How dare they not show that? This woman is only one of the greatest treasures the theater has ever produced. What do they think this show is about? Promos for their lame television lineup? Excruciating commercials for broadway.com? And the sheer volume of commercial interruption was mind-boggling. Furthermore, I’m sorry but thirty seconds is not enough time to give an acceptance speech. If CBS wants to broadcast the Tonys then they should have the courage of their convictions and do it the way they used to – the full show, or at the very least, all the major writing, score, direction and choreography awards. Of course, when the show gets its usual low ratings they will simply say that the majority of Americans aren’t interested. If that’s the case, then what do they really lose showing an hour more of the show? It only happens once a year – they can just look at it as a worthwhile charity. But to do what they do is nothing short of grotesque.

I love Bernadette Peters and Gregory Hines as much as the next person, but hosts they are not. I was thrilled that the Albee play won, even though I haven’t seen it. Mr. Albee is a national treasure. The numbers from the musicals were a mixed bag. The Sweet Smell number was strange but at least looked interesting and theatrical. I wish they’d chosen something else from Millie – the end of the number was fine, but the leadup was endless and static and didn’t translate well. I'm sure Urinetown is brilliant on stage, but it wasn't here (despite the screaming of the fans). I actually liked The Farmer and the Cowman number – I thought it had nice energy and I always like seeing Andrea Martin. Into the Woods was the worst of the lot – trying to encapsulate an entire show into two minutes is never a good idea. I missed having scenes from the plays – they all looked really good and it would have been fun to have a couple of minutes from each the way they used to.

I have to say I was taken aback by Chita Rivera. No one loves Chita Rivera more than I, but what has this woman had done to herself? She doesn’t even resemble Chita Rivera anymore. Best dressed and prettiest award, as usual, goes to Mary Louise Parker. And despite the horribleness of the Rodgers opening, it was fun to see John Raitt out there, strutting his stuff.

Well, for the last three years I have said the same thing: Let me have a shot at this show. Or, at the very least, let someone who loves theater have a shot at this show. Right now, in trying to dumb the thing down for the masses, well, it’s just a big bland nothing. I did love seeing Judy Kaye, though and would almost endure Mamma Mia again to see her and Karen Mason.

I guess maybe I’m being unduly harsh, but I’ve seen Tony broadcasts that worked and they were magical and wonderful, so it’s not as if it can’t be done.

Well, there, I’ve said it and I’m glad. I’ve gotten it off my chest. What “it” was doing on my chest I’ll never know, but it doesn’t matter anymore because I got “it” off my chest and now my chest is carefree and fancy free and free of “it”. Well, I feel that all that’s left to do is to click on the Unseemly Button below because I have now exhausted myself writing about the Tony Awards, which, by the way (BTW, in Internet lingo), was nothing short of grotesque. Click away, my pretties.

- Monday, June 3, 2002 @ 08:59 AM PST

Sunday, June 2, 2002

Isn’t it interesting how a rant about the Tony Awards broadcast turned into the story of Mr. Jeremiah Pipe? You just never know where these here notes will take you.

I checked out the brand spanking new DVD Special Edition of Mr. David Lynch’s Blue Velvet. I think I actually prefer the slightly brighter transfer of the original DVD, but this Special Edition is worthwhile because of the seventy-minute documentary that’s included amongst a plethora of special features. It has interviews with Mr. Lynch (from 1987), and new interviews with cameraman Frederick Elmes, editor Duwayne Dunham, and cast members Dennis Hopper, Isabella Rossellini, Laura Dern and Kyle MacLachlan. They all have good stories to tell, some of them quite surprising, all regarding Mr. David Lynch's rather strange and vague world. Then, I also listened to a bit of Billy Crystal’s commentary track on Mr. Saturday Night. I’d missed the film when it played in theaters, but caught it one night on cable. I thought some of it was quite funny, but I thought that other parts of it were much too cloying and self-conscious. It was obviously a labor of love for Crystal, and that comes across in spades on the commentary track, and you realize immediately why the film is 119 minutes long – he’s simply in love with every scene and every shot in the movie. Unfortunately, the best performance in the film doesn’t belong to Crystal, it belongs to the wonderful David Paymer. Everything about Paymer’s performance works, and his old-age makeup is very believable, unlike Crystal’s, which looks quite high-schoolish. I also checked out the very unfunny “gag” reel (they did the gag reel knowing that it was a gag reel – so, it’s all people attempting to be funny rather than real off-the-cuff mistakes and screwups happening), and some of the cut scenes.

What am I, Ebert and Roeper all of a sudden? Has anyone noticed how long this first section is? I know we don’t want to click on that Unseemly Button below, I know many of us are ready to mutiny, but nonetheless let us click anyway, because it makes Mr. Mark Bakalor happy and when Mr. Mark Bakalor is happy we are happy because then we get new sections and new sections are a good thing.

- Sunday, June 2, 2002 @ 10:09 AM PST

Saturday, June 1, 2002

Did you know that May toppled the record set by our record April here at haineshisway.com. Yes, May was our biggest month, traffic-wise – our traffic grew considerably and we must now strive to have June topple May because I like records that are toppled. If you look at our handy-dandy graph, it shows May is much much taller than April and April was, of course, much much taller than every other month prior to it. Isn’t that exciting? Isn’t that just too too? Aren’t we just on our way to being the most popular site on all the internet, the place where the jet set hangs out, the place where those in the know pitch their tents, the place where the In Crowd goes to be In, the place where the happening people happen to go – yes, there’s a place for us, a time and place for us and that time and place is here and now and also now and here. And anyone who says otherwise shall be drawn and quartered without delay. You would think anyone would learn not to say otherwise, but some anyones never learn, so damn them all, damn them all to hell and high and low water. So, tell you friends, tell your neighbors, shout it the the men and women in the street – come to haineshisway.com for a good time, for good company and to be a Hainsie/Kimlet in good standing. If they are having doubts about joining our merry throng (as opposed to our merry thong – we abhor thongs as they are unseemly and grotesque), simply tell them that we eat cheese slices and ham chunks religiously. Yes, Virginia, we eat cheese slices and ham chunks religiously – one day we eat them Jewishly, next day Catholically, one day Protestantly, the next day Baptistly. Sometimes we even eat them Mormonly, but only if we’re in Utah.

I hope I am not telling tales out of school, but did you know that our very own dear reader, Lolita, light of my life, fire of my filet mignon, had a slumber party last night and that none of us were invited? I told her that we were all prepared to show up in our collective baby doll pajamas, but that thought frightened her, and if you look like I do in baby doll pajamas, I suppose that fright was not unfounded. In any case, I do hope she’ll come and post and tell us all about the slumber party and tell us if we Hainsies/Kimlets were a topic of discussion.

I have even more news to share, but I can tell by the hands on the clock that it is time to click on the Unseemly Button below. So, let’s all do so immediately so that I can take my hands off the clock.

- Saturday, June 1, 2002 @ 08:45 AM PST