Well, I am back from the Ray Courts Show. BK & I, as always, amused ourselves, despite a rather lackluster show...
The highlight seemed to be sleuthing through a stack of sheet music. Bruce was intrigued by a piece that had some lovely Li'l Abner artwork on the cover (not from the musical) but at thirty-odd dollars did not bite. We were looking for a copy of "Put Me to the Test" from COVER GIRL, but came up empty. Can anyone help out?
BK introduced me to Charlene Tilton and Linda Purl. We shared some laughs with my pal, Ian Abercrombie (Bk's pix to follow). We chatted with Johnny Crawford who BK knows and whose 1926 Dance Orchestra I have enjoyed on many occasions. He still does not have the along-awaited CD of their work. It's really a nice band and he fronts it with a nice light tenor. Robert Clary collared us and all but dragged us to his stall to look at his cache of recordings and brochures of his rather interesting artwork. For a man of eighty, he was very energetic and well-perserved.
And I badgered BK to finally give Hayley Mills the copy of KRITZERTIME, he brought along. He was very shy about it. This is a man who talks to strangers in restaurants but when it comes to approaching his childhood fantasy heart-throb, he becomes a blushing, stammering little boy, poking his toe in the carpet. But when he summoned up the courage and re-introduced himself from yesterday and presented her with the book, he was rewarded with a hug and a kiss. He'll never wash that cheek again.
I was disappointed in seeing Carol Cleveland. She looked like...alas, middle-aged British matron...not badly perserved, mind you, but not the sex bomb I remember from her Python days.
Several other folks were not aging gracefully. In fact, I think they were decomposing before our very eyes. There was the usual flock of people with dubious celebrity or celebrity so tenuous even when you looked at their photos and stills, you still had no idea who the Hell they were.
And then there were the young'uns...teens and sprites who I guess are on some unheard of cable show on some unheard of cable channel. But you could go down whole aisles and have clear views of only "celebritys" sitting behind tables and mountains of unthumbed, unsigned photos with no bodies browsing or chatting in front of them.
Bk, also introduced me to someone who mis-heard my name as "Mark Chapeau"...so I guess that will be my new stage name.
The dealer situation remained as abysmal as BK described last night. I usually end up buying at least a CD or a piece of sheet music. Nada this time.
The rain going over was insane. It would come down in torrents one moment, rapids of water along the curb, and the next moment stop altogether. The sun was out when I left the show (and we left early for us...12:30) and it was coming down in buckets driving home. And now the sun is out once more.