A gay actor / director / fundraiser / cabaret singer / lesbian-esque guitar player from the hills of East Tennessee, living in Chicago and looking for... wait... what is it I'm looking for again?
Come on, if LONELY GOATHERD can be transformed into a hip-hop dance track, I can revert back to a 27 year old, ok?
Anyway, Rhonda is one of those Southern moms who looks just as beautiful at 37 as she did at 17, teaches pre- school out of her own home, cooks and bakes food that rivals Ms. Paula Deen's, beautifully decorates her home with crafts that would earn the praise of "It's a good thing" from Martha "Prison Poncho" Stewart herself, juggles the schedules of her son's Little League games alongside her daughter's dance lessons and her husband's golf outings and still manages to master new art forms with ease.
Like photography.
When I was home for Christmas, Rhonda took a number of pictures of me, my mom and my brother.
I only have this one picture, so far.
That's my mama...
...and those are the Foothills of the Great Smokey Mountains behind us...
...right in Rhonda's back yard.
Isn't mama beautiful? She's my hero. And I'm proud to say, she's my friend.
I am feeling slightly better, but my voice is still way too "Elizabeth Ashley" to be considered "back to normal."
And as I glanced at my desk calendar this morning and read the names of those born on this day in history, in addition to sounding very "Elizabeth Ashley," I suddenly felt very "Shug Avery."
You know... "God is tryin' to tell you somethin'" That kind of thing.
You see, a lot of people with meat grinders for vocal chords were born on January 31st.
There's this femme fatal, born in 1903.
In between her famously, husky- voiced "Dahhlllling"s, she's known for saying...
"Cocaine isn't habit forming. I should know, I've been using it for years."
...and...
"I've tried several varieties of sex. The conventional position makes me claustrophobic and the others give me a stiff neck or lockjaw."
Then, in 1921, this Little Girl from Little Rock with a charmingly bizarre voice was brought forth.
She made Diamonds her Best Friend and apparently never remembered when she had eaten corn.
Then in 1937, this raven- haired beauty with vocal chords soaked in bourbon came into the world.
In the early 70's, she married a stammering, tv psychologist and forced us all to take a shot of hooch every time she sexily uttered the words, "Hey, Bob."
Ok, ya'll...
What is the universe trying to tell me by having all these throaty- voiced celebs celebrate their birthdays today??!?!?
That I'll star in the next BATMAN movie as The Black Widow?
That I'll headline the next bus- and- truck tour of HELLO, DOLLY!?!?!
That I'll be the love- interest in Bob Newhart's next sitcom?!?!?
Or are The Big Three...
...No, no the Holy Trinity, I mean, The Big Three in Control of Everything - - you know - - Mary Zimmerman, Robert Falls and Barbara Gaines, silly...
...telling me that this cold and flu voice I have will stay with me forever, making me the Harvey Fierstein of Chicago's non-Equity theatre scene?
Wait! No! That's not it.
This hottie was also born on this day in 1981...
...and he brought Sexy Back...
...so there's hope for me yet!
Boy, those casting directors for The Mickey Mouse Club sure know how to pick 'em, don't they?
"Forever let us hold our banner high"... indeed...
Before we lose ourselves in Timberlake Land, I have to tell you this...
Today isn't all about throaty divas...
...and it's not al about Justin's banner...
...even though we all want Justin's banner... I know... I know...
No, today, there is only one birthday to celebrate.
And it's for my friend, Eric Reda.
Here's Eric the cutie with me this past All Hallow's Eve...
Yes, I have a mask on... bitches...
I went as V from V FOR VENDETTA and V wears a Guy Fawkes mask like this.
Oddly enough, today is ALSO the day that Guy Fawkes was executed for the Gunpowder Plot.
Huh? What am I? GOOGLE? Look up "Guy Fawkes" yourselves, bitches. Geez...
Eric is an incredible director, an amazing composer, a wonderful friend...
...and another hottie who brings sexy back...
...again and again.
Happy Birthday, Eric.
...and Talullah... and Carol... and Suzanne... and Justin...
I managed to put on clothes and walk to my neighborhood Jewel-Osco...
...my neighborhood Jewel-Osco is known as the "Gay Jewel" since I live in Boystown and the Jewel is located at the corner of Cocksucker and Rimjob...
...and though my voice is slightly better, I am coughing quite a bit. My hacking, my sneezing and my runny-nose, coupled with my non-shaved face and and the groans and moans I make when I move any muscle on my body scared every man, woman, child, pussy cat and chihuahua that I encountered to, from and in the Jewel.
This is what I imagine that I looked like...
Can you name this meta- human first introduced in the 80's?
You can?
Our knowledge base is vast and yet sucks, doesn't it?
So, one more day of rest for me and I should be back to normal.
In the meantime, I want to send all of my love and sympathy to Alanda for the loss of Lulu. If you need anything, Alanda, know that I am here for you and I love you.
I woke up about 45 minutes ago to shower, shave and go through all my sense memory work to play The Cat in the Hat in SEUSSICAL and discovered...
...I have no voice.
Well, I DO have a voice, but it sits somewhere between Harvey Fierstein, Peter Brady singing WHEN IT'S TIME TO CHANGE and a rake dragged across the chalkboard of Brenda Vaccaro's vocal chords.
By the by, here's Brenda with Faye Dunaway.
What is this? A SUPERGIRL: THE MOVIE reunion?
And if it IS? WHY!?!?!?
Nevertheless, I've steamed, I've had hot tea with honey and I'm popping Ricola's like Judy Garland at a Benzedrine factory, but I still sound like ass.
And not in a good way.
I was vocally tired on Friday, and then yesterday, I was up very early to do a spot on NBC to promote SEUSSICAL...
...Yeah, that was me in the hat...
...and to the camera guy at NBC: the next time I'm there, NOT SO MUCH OF A CLOSE-UP, HUH? I can only imagine how frightening my face was in a striped hat at 9 a.m. on a 64 inch HDTV!...
...then raced back to the Apollo for a performance, followed by the final UGLY BABY last night.
At the top UGLY BABY, my voice was pure gravel. I pushed through it and that's why I sound like Bea Arthur today.
So, whenever I feel a little down, I play this song and it puts me in a good mood automatically. Watch it. At least get to the chorus. Hopefully, it will give you a little Sunday laugh.
I'm off to the show. This performance is not going to be pretty. Oy...
I honestly didn't think that this show would end in January. I hoped that we would have had enough time to run the play until it found it's audience.
And of course, last night it found it's audience.
There were theatre people, leather men (Thank you, Aaron and John!), drunken straight girls, distinguished gay men, a group of African-American women who were DREAMGIRL fabulous, good friends (Dana and Matt... WOOHOO!Thanks for coming!!) and believe it or not, about six or seven Russian women, the majority of whom did not speak English...
...so, the one who DID speak English was translating to the others.... loudly... throughout the entire show.
Because of this, that group only got every fourth or fifth joke. Or more often than not, would laugh at the physical comedy of the piece.
Like this...
Ah, Sophe...
I hardly knew ye...
Milton Berle knew what he was doing when he put on a dress in the early years of television.
One man + one dress = Hilarious!
For the record, in children's theatre, that formula reads: One man + One fart noise = Hilarious!
If we had a couple more weeks, every audience seeing the show would be a grab bag of fabulous eccentrics. And we would run for a long, long time.
As it is, the public must now wait a little while longer to discover Philip Dawkins' brilliance as a playwright and label him an "overnight sensation."
The upside of the play closing for me: A return to flats.
...but why am I even posting it... you've all seen it.
Oh, come on. Don't try to tell me that you haven't got at least three subscriptions per resident of your household to THE magazine of choice for Windy City hipsters...
Just to keep several copies of CHICAGO PARENT in the house, I, myself, gave up my subscriptions to my James Bond fan magazine...
...my monthly ping-pong survival guide...
...and my favorite newsletter, ANNIE PEOPLE, THE newsletter for fans of the musical ANNIE, written and produced by this guy...
I'm not making that up. Check the link if you don't believe me!
Yes, CHICAGO PARENT is the first local mag to begin the lavish praise and heartfelt promises of Jeff Awards, Tony Awards and perhaps even a Cable Ace Award...
...yes, I know we're not on cable, but ya'll - - we're THAT good... You can read all of Jennifer DuBose's review here, but let's get to the part we're all waiting for...
...the part where she talks about me.
The Cat in the Hat narrates the action, delivering witty and sometimes sarcastic one-liners that nearly steal the show. While his amusing jabs at celebrities and Chicago references work to feed the adults in the audience with a few laughs, a couple of his fun-poking comments come close to diverting attention from the production's main themes of kindness, loyalty, imagination, the value of relationship, sensitivity to the needs of the littlest creatures and the idea that what may be most essential may be invisible to the eye. One of the show's best songs, however, "Oh The Thinks You Can Think," features the Cat and his young friend JoJo, one of the tiny Whos of Whoville, who eventually realizes that "anything's possible."
Now, you may be thinking to yourself, "Wow, sounds like Stephen is coming DANGEROUSLY close to The Cat being played as Andy Dick on a Saturday in West Hollywood," but notice that she only says that a couple of my comments "COME CLOSE to diverting attention from the production's main themes..." I don't cross the line. I WALK the line.
That's right. My Cat in the Hat is so Johnny Cash, Reese Witherspoon is BEGGING to play Mayzie La Bird!
My only problem with Ms. DuBose's review? Yeah, you guessed it...
WHERE IS MY NAME?!?!?!?!
Hello? I'm the Merman of SEUSSICAL here! How about a little friggin' name recognition, ok?
I just returned home from seeing John Patrick Shanley's DOUBT and I feel old.
Dan, Philip and I took in the play after a nice dinner at Miller's Pub and while I can say that I did love the play and that the acting by Cherry Jones, Chris McGarry, Lisa Joyce and most especially Caroline Stefanie Clay was wonderful, I was stunned by the... for lack of a better word... energy coming from the audience surrounding me.
The straight audience, I suppose.
DOUBT is, at it's core, about a nun who believes a priest has molested a young boy. It's about so much more than that, though - - it's about the idea of certainty, faith, one's place in society, gossip, progressive versus traditional paths - - so much more.
What bothered me were the sounds of the audience near the end of the play.
The releases of air. The short groans and grunts when the priest is begging for compassion from a nun who has no proof of his indiscretions other than her own intuition. The applause and laughter when the nun tells the priest to "cut his nails" - - the idea, I guess, being that only a homosexual would keep his nails as long and clean as they are referred to in the play, and if he has long nails, he's a homosexual and therefore a pedophile.
All of it hurt me - - deeply.
I tried to express it to Philip and Dan - - the sense of hatred I felt from the audience - - the homophobia that almost immediately led the audience to side with the nun and her accusations. Philip said the priest was a pedophile, not a homosexual.
And yet, it seems to me that to that audience, a "homosexual" and a "pedophile" are one and the same.
That's why I feel old.
Gay men in the 20's don't seem to have the heightened sense that gay men in their 30's and older have. I imagine that mine is not as acute as a gay man in his 40's or 50's.
It's that sense of when the people in the room hate you. When they are watching you and are uncomfortable with you hugging or kissing another man. When you have to turn around and walk the other way because if you don't, you will be beaten or perhaps killed.
That sense that is triggered by the reactions of certain straight people - - straight people who believe that every homosexual character should rightfully be bumped off at the end of a play or movie.
That sense that understands and is upset by a media which nowadays welcomes fags into American homes as decorators and designers (QUEER EYE) or as clowns and sissies (Jack on WILL & GRACE), but if we show the world that we have cocks and we fuck, they want nothing to do with us.
To this day, one of the most vile things to show certain people is two men kissing. Blood can stream out of bodies, heads can be decapitated, even Saddam can be seen on your screen as he hangs for your viral viewing pleasure, but an act of love between two men turns stomachs.
I feel old because I wish I was younger and didn't sense it.
I feel old because those who are 10 years younger than me don't sense it and yet, they see me as ancient and good for nothing but a laugh or as someone to joke about - at 37.
I feel old because I'm hyper-aware of when people are disgusted by who I am at the core of my being and even though we've come so far, I hoped that we would be farther along than this.
...right beside the collage he made of current Oscar Nominee Marky Mark during those "Good Vibrations," walkin' around with his jeans around his ankles showin' off his Calvin Klein tighty-whitey's years...
Damn... I miss those years...
Anyway, back to the mystery.
My good friend Michael Pacas sent this video to me a couple days ago and since then, it has been removed from YouTube for Terms of Use Violation. Fortunately (or perhaps UNfortunately), I found it on break.com.
Check this out and while you're watching it, try to help me determine if this is legitimate (and therefore INSANE) or if this is a massive joke being played via viral video...
See what I mean? It's just this side of SNL's DICK IN A BOX, isn't it?
I believe - - or WANT to believe - - that this is just an elaborate joke, but isn't it disturbing that in 2007, this man, this ministry and this message might actually EXIST?
The debate itself says so much about homophobia in our country that it's astounding.
No guys, I'm not talking about celebrating THAT... well, I do celebrate that... believe me when I say I celebrate that A LOT... not as often as I would like, but still...
No, I'm celebrating because this is my 100th post.
I'm a new blogger and I made it to 100.
And they said it wouldn't last.
So many things have come from this little blog.
It's helped me stay in touch with friends and family out of town (Dennis in Knoxville, Lance in Korea, Kristie in Atlanta).
In the blogs of my other friends (Alanda, Michael, Brooke, Mike...) I have learned more about them and grown a little closer to them.
And in a strange "Air all your laundry - - dirty or otherwise" kind of way, this blog has compelled me to do something my therapist begged me to do for years and I could never really get into - - journaling.
Even the word "journaling" sounds a bit too much like crunchy Granola, Birkenstock-wearing, NPR-listening, tree-hugging, hippy bullshit for my taste, but I guess in essence that's what I'm doing on here.
And even though so many people see me as man with many opinions and even though I do spout my opinions rather loudly in person and in postings, it takes a lot for this Southern boy to speak his mind and say what he feels and thinks.
I guess that comes with age.
I remember asking my Papaw Rader (for those of you who don't speak Redneck, the yankee translation of "Papaw" is "Grandfather" - - Proceed...) his advice on something a few years before he died and after he told me what he thought, he said...
"Hell son, don't listen to me. All my friends are dead. I don't give a damn anymore."
"Not Giving a Damn" is something to which I aspire.
But one of the best things that has come from this blog happened just today.
And in those postings, I talked about meeting Paula's cute assistant, Brandon Branch.
Here's Brandon looking dashing in jeans, a white v-neck tee and blue blazer. Yum.
Now, when I say that I MET Brandon, I might be stretching it a bit...
I was wearing my t-shirt from Paula's restaurnt, THE LADY AND SONS, and as I approached the table where Paula was signing the books, Brandon said, "Nice shirt"...
...and I drolled a little.
That's a meeting right?
Yeah, it's not. And that's why I'm excited because today, the adorable hottie Brandon Branch posted a comment on my blog!!!
And when I emailed him to say thank you, he replied saying that he would be in Chicago tomorrow through Friday!
What was my reaction? Well, Blanche says it best...
Say it, Blanche!
Why is Brandon coming into town tomorrow? Well, this may be on the QT and very "hush, hush," but Paula's coming to Chicago for a taping on THE OPRAH WINFREY SHOW and Brandon is coming with her.
Of course, Philip thinks I'm going to parlay all of this into a Food Network Booty Call, but I don't think that will happen. I'm just thrilled that A) people are actually reading this blog and B) it's actually helping me flirt with handsome men like Mr. Branch.
I guess the internet isn't just for porn, after all.
(The title of this posting should be read a la Maya Rudolph's Oprah Winfrey in the SNL sketch about Oprah's Favorite Things Birthday Edition - - "MACAROONS!!!")
Yes, today is my birthday. Thirty-seven years ago today, I was born.
37. Fuck.
Please note:
1) It is at this point in my life that I will start lying about my age since, to quote Samantha (Kim Catrall - - and who would ever think that I would quote the girl from MANNEQUIN?) in one my favorite episodes of SEX IN THE CITY when she finds a grey pubic hair...
"Nobody wants to fuck Grandma's pussy!"
2) After SEUSSICAL yesterday, I made a little appearance at a birthday party for one of the kids who saw the show with their friends and young Haley was turning 5. I secretly hoped a little FREAKY FRIDAY action would take place, so I could start from 5 years old, have blond hair, blue eyes and a clean slate for my credit rating.
3) I want everyone who asks my age to repeat a line said by one of The Weird Sisters at a cabaret show where a woman in the audience was celebrating her birthday. When asked how old she was, she answered "49" or something, and the reply from one of The Weird Sisters was...
"You don't look a day over GORGEOUS!"
Remember that phrase. And use it when next you see me.
Today is interesting because 37 years ago, my mother gave birth to me and her sister gave birth to my cousin, Rhonda...
...yes... on the same day...
...in the hospital...
...by the same doctor and nurses...
The four of us were actually on the front page of The Knoxville New-Sentinel the next day with a caption that read, "Sisters Harmonize on Births."
After I told this to someone recently they said, "Slow news day in Knoxville, huh?"
That's hilarious. Do you write your own material? Asshole.
Here's me and Rhonda on our shiny new tricycles at our 2nd birthday party. I know this only by the date on the side of the picture.
Why did they stop putting the month and year on each picture? I guess when bitches like me were trying to lie about their age - - to themselves more than anyone else - - and yet Kodak provides the truth on the border of every old picture.
And here is what I'm guessing is my 5th birthday party (See? No help from Kodak with the month and year and I'm lost in the 70's). Gathered around the cake are (L to R) my brother, Jeff, me, Rhonda and my other cousin J.T., short for John Thomas. J.T. looks a little like a special needs child in that outfit, doesn't it?
I've never had the balls to ask my aunt and uncle if they realized they gave their child a name that a lot of people associate with penises... I assume someone told them AFTER they named him and then decided to use the shortened "J.T." to avoid giggles and solidify his future as a redneck with a beer gut.
The legendary star of Nashville who, as a little girl, saw the town whore in her little East Tennessee town and thought that that painted lady with her peroxide hair, flashy clothes and dangerously high heeled shoes was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. And when her mama said, "Oh, that woman ain't nothin' but trash," said...
"Then Mama, I wanna be trash!"
The woman who inspires me with her words...
"The way I see it, if you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain."
...and inspires me with her actions - - like her Imagination Library, which gives thousands of children in an ever-increasing number of states one book per month from birth to age five.
And when I told my mother that I would be performing SCHOOLHOUSE ROCK LIVE! as a part of DOLLYWOOD's Kid's Fest a few summers ago, my mama's joy and excitement could be best expressed in a line that William Powell says to Myrna Loy in one of the THIN MAN movies when a vendor at a boxing match gives her a free hot dog...
"Baby, you've ARRIVED!"
Yeah, you knew who I was talking about... even before I mentioned DOLLYWOOD.
You know me. And you know my insane love for Dolly Parton... for all things Dolly!
Hell, I even did a cabaret show dedicated to her and her music...
So, instead of writing way too much about her...
...something I've probably already done in this posting...
...and something you KNOW I will do practically every day on this blog...
...I'll just present some video clips that show just why I love me some Dolly.
While my parents remember watching Dolly as a little girl standing on a box and singing on the Cas Walker tv show...
...Cas Walker had a huge chain of supermarkets in Knoxville years ago, so of course he had his own television show in East Tennessee. Sort of like if Sam Walton were still alive and hosted AMERICAN IDOL. Ummm... don't. Don't try to understand the Southern logic of that... just accept and go on...
...this clip shows Dolly's first appearance on THE PORTER WAGGONER SHOW. Porter had a huge television audience at the time and Dolly landing the gig to replace "Miss Norma Jean" as the show's new "girl singer" catapulted Dolly into Nashville stardom.
Notice how almost timid Dolly appears at the end when she's talking to Porter. Porter really helped Dolly shape her onstage persona.
And by the way, when people ask her about being called a "dumb blonde," Dolly always says...
"I don't mind being called a dumb blonde, 'cause I know I'm not dumb... and I know I'm not blonde."
This clip not only shows you how Dolly came into her own when it comes to charming an audience before and after her songs, it also is a live version of a song with a style somewhere between camp and melancholy... between comedy and bittersweet heartache... therefore, it could only be written and performed by Dolly Parton...
Yeah. That's why Dolly always says that if she hadn't been born a woman, she would definitely be a drag queen. ME AND LITTLE ANDY is so wrong, but ya'll, if that's wrong, I don't wanna be right!
And these outtakes from 9 TO 5 show just how funny Dolly is on camera and off...
But if you want to know why I love her, it's this song. Nothing takes me back to my mama, my daddy and the Smokey Mountains like this Dolly Parton song and her description of our shared Tennessee Mountain Home...
Happy Birthday, Dolly.
P.S. The title of this blog entry is the name of a new documentary being shown at select film festivals around the country focusing on 5 Dolly Parton fans and the love of Dolly...
I'm off to my first performance of SEUSSICAL for a school group. We had a wonderful house of mostly adults on Tuesday night who really loved it, but today is a whole different ballgame. If I don't return from playing The Cat for kids, be well... and always speak well of me...
But to all of those reading 52...
And I NEVER thought I would EVER type this HORRIFIC phrase IN MY LIFE, but...
****SPOILER ALERT!****
...ewww... I need another shower after that...
Ok, 52 fans who read this week's installment.
I have to say this...
THAT'S who Supernova was all this time?!?!?
And Skeets...
basically...
ATE...
the Phantom Zone?!?!?!
And Animal Man just pulled a "Bobby Ewing in the Shower" thing in the last few panels.
And now he's, to borrow a song title from SEUSSICAL, "Alone in the Universe?!?!"
...that's sounds a little like that song they taught us in Vacation Bible School...
This little blog of mine,I'm gonna let it shine!
Anyway, this little blog is teetering dangerously close to the brink of becoming a blog that each and every day celebrates the gay divas of stage...
...screen...
...and an occasional circus...
...and I know that in just two short days, the nation will join me in celebrating the birth of Dolly Parton...
See? Dolly's already started puttin' on her face for the big birthday extravaganza!
...but I couldn't let the day end without a little Happy Birthday posting for one of only four women who have graced the costume of Catwoman.
For the record: Halle Berry doesn't count because A) her Catwoman's real name was NOT Selina Kyle, B) her nemesis was that stanky-pussed Sharon Stone and C) Halle sucked even more as Catwoman than she does as Storm in the X-MEN movies. So, her Catwoman DOESN'T COUNT!
It's not Julie Newmar. It's not Lee Meriwether. It's not Michelle Pfeiffer.
Today is the 80th birthday of Ms. Eartha Kitt!
Puuurrrrrrr-fect!
I frankly can't believe that THIS woman is 80 years old!
Eighty, ya'll. EIGHT-OH!
To help you understand just how INCREDIBLE Ms. Kitt looks at 80, I give you this picture of LinsayLohan...
...and Ms. Lohan is 20 - - a quarter of the age of Ms. Kitt!
Lick that, Lohan!
And not only does Eartha Kitt look amazing, she still commands a stage with a wit, a presence and a raw sexuality that you can't find in a score of Pussy Cat Dolls.
See how hypnotic she is in this clip from the 50's with her singing JUST AN OLD FASHIONED GIRL in a tempo just this side of Sondheim's GETTING MARRIED TODAY...
I came to know that Eartha a few years after I first heard her sing this song. WHERE IS MY MAN was the ultimate song for drag queens to lip sync in the late 80's and early 90's at the Carousal II gay bar in Knoxville, TN. It is dripping with 80's drum-machine, Casio keyboard mania and I love it...
But this last clip proves to you just how brilliant Ms. Kitt is to this very day.
It's from the Tony Awards performance of the musical THE WILD PARTY and if you watch Eartha you understand just how perfect my mentor, Lemmie's advice was when he said...
"When everyone on stage is moving around, stand still."
Mandy Patinkin, Toni Collette and the whole damn company are flailing about, trying to convey the WILD part of the PARTY and then Eartha walks in, stands perfectly still and then slowly, distinctly walks upstage of the group to take her place behind Ms. Collette to start her song...
...and as she begins, her stillness feeds a raw power in her that overflows with parties that Ms. Kitt has been to and will continue to attend that are infinitely more wild than most of us dare to even dream of walking into.
That is how it's done, ya'll. Now do you understand why Ms. Lohan is not now, and probably never will be, a diva?
Obviously, I've been neglecting All Things Dolly since I missed out on a few key news items posted on Dollymania.net.
Thank the Lord for Dolly Mania, since I never watch THE TONIGHT SHOW WITH JAY LENO (does anyone?) and I would have missed this little piece of his "Headlines" segment during a recent show...
Jay showed this ad for the Dolly's amusement park, DOLLYWOOD...
But a close-up reveals just how enjoyable a coaster ride can be in Dolly country...
Now THAT is my kind of family ride! Come on!! Who wouldn't want a Season Pass to that!!!
Also, Dolly Mania just introduced me to the future Ms. Dora Lee Rhodes, Megan Hilty.
This was posted on Playbill.com...
Megan Hilty , a Glinda in the Broadway and upcoming Los Angeles companies of Wicked, is expected to play the Dolly Parton role in the Broadway-aimed musical Nine to Five.
The Daily Independent of Ashland, KY, reported the news. Hilty and her boyfriend Steve Kazee (of Spamalot and the upcoming 110 in the Shade) spoke to an eastern Kentucky elementary school class recently, and Hilty spilled the beans about her casting in the choice Nine to Five part.
A 2007-08 launch is expected for the Joe Mantello-directed stage musical, which will have a score by Dolly Parton and libretto by Patricia Resnick (the 1980 property's co-screenwriter). Robert Greenblatt, president of entertainment at Showtime Networks, Inc., will produce.
Parton reportedly saw Hilty play Glinda and thought she had the right stuff to play Doralee, the secretary role Parton created in the picture (Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin were her office co-workers who seek revenge on their boss).
"In a couple of weeks I'm going to meet (Dolly Parton)," Hilty told the paper. "I'm going to sing with her and I�m so nervous."
Joe Mantello is directing?!?!?! Ya'll, this musical is in great hands with Mr. Mantello at the helm.
Do you think Megan has what it takes to...
...ahem...
...fill the role of Dora Lee?
That angle doesn't quite tell us just how big the...
...ahem...
...shoes are that Ms. Hilty needs to fill.
How about this angle?
Yeah...
That angle demonstrates that the demands of this role are HUGE!
Well, all of that aside, there is only one thing to say to Ms. Hilty and it is best said by our good friend and fellow secretary from the movie 9 TO 5, Ms. Margaret Foster...
"Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter." - Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
On September 12, 2001, I was afraid to tell anyone my thoughts about the tragedy that our country experienced the day before.
I had travelled throughout the Jordan and Egypt and Turkey and Morrocco in 2000 doing SIDE BY SIDE BY SONDHEIM...
... I know... Sondheim for Arabs... it's a long story...
...but talking to the people of those countries I realized that, to many of them, Americans were perceived as baby killers. They had such hate for us. I could understand why they would fly planes into buildings killing thousands of people - - their actions are horrific and disdainful, but from what they were told about us and our policies, I undersood why they felt the way they felt and why they did what they did.
And then I watched our president recite the 23rd psalm and call for war. And it sickend me.
If we are truly the super-power we say we are, why didn''t we use our position of power to try and find out why we are so hated by these people? Why didn't we use every means necessary to talk, to communicate, to take the higher ground?
"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that. " - Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
No, the president and most of this nation wanted revenge - - and we got it. We went to war in the wrong country and we can't seem to capture the one man responsible for 9/11 and the dreaded "weapons of mass destruction" were never found and our entire country was lied to again and again, but we got our revenge. So now what, George?
I truly don't know what this country's next step needs to be to end the war in Iraq, bring our soldiers home to their loved ones and allow the people of Iraq to live in peace. I don't know if anyone knows what we should do.
I don't think a "surge" will be enough to bring an end to a civil war that our president can't seem to acknowledge IS a civil war.
But I've also heard that if congress denies Bush the funds for the "surge," they can't cut the purse strings until after those additional troops are in Iraq. And cutting off the funds at that point will just be harmful to the men and women risking their lives in our armed services. Is that true?
In Bush's speech last week, he looked like a man who was lost. Wearing his blue tie to try and appear bi-partisan, his eyes spoke volumes - - they were dead. He read that speech off the teleprompter with no soul behind his eyes. No light. A soul-less man leading us further and further into war... and war for what? Oil? Protection from weapons that were never found?
Everyone says, "Well, if we left Iraq now, chaos and disorder would overtake that country." And that would be different how?
The third Monday in January, we honor the life of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. His words are inspiring and their truth is timeless - - they resonate especially strongly with me today.
"Nonviolence is the answer to the crucial politital and moral questions of our time; the need for mankind to overcome oppression and violence without resorting to oppression and violence. Mankind must evolve for all human conflict a method which rejects revenge, aggression, and retaliation. The foundation of such a method is love." - Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., December 11, 1964
We are in tech for SEUSSICAL - - which is going incredibly smoothly, but it's still tech.
It's the same as having sex with Dennis Hastert - - sure, you can boast to your friends that you got laid last night, but when the sun comes shining through the window the morning after you picked up the former House Speaker at Little Jim's, you're still nose to nose and package to package with Dennis Hastert.
And trust me, it's not that he will make you sleep in the wet spot - - he IS the wet spot. It's SO not worth it.
So, I have just a little something to post tonight. It's a clip that's akin to the video of Lauren Bacall singing BUT ALIVE in the musical APPLAUSE that I posted a few days ago. But this isn't a song. It's just one word.
It's from the movie THOROUGHLY MODERN MILLIE - - not the Broadway musical of that name which only used three songs from this incredibly quirky musical about white slave traders (yes, I said "white slave traders"... see? there's some DEPTH to this artform!...) set in the 1920's starring Julie Andrews, Mary Tyler Moore and the woman you're about to see...
Carol Channing.
This is Carol Channing in all her glory flying through the sky with a cocktail in her hand saying just one word...
"Raspberries!"
I'm serious. No joke. Watch it if you think I'm peeing on your leg and telling you it's raining...
Again, would you call that "sublimely ridiculous" or "ridiculously sublime?"
How about a marriage of the two words - - subliculous.
I like it.
And here is is another short clip. This is Ms. Channing in an interview a few years ago commenting on the word, "raspberries"...
So this week, let's show our love for The Crypt Keeper of the HELLO, DOLLY revival tours, Ms. Carol Channing, by greeting friends, loved ones and co-workers with a simple word that will confuse, bewilder and linger on for decades to come...
When I was home for Christmas, Rhonda took a number of pictures of me, my mom and my brother.
