And more from our Gossip Girl: Remembering Liz, Mike, Eddie, Debbie … and Lindsay! … Zeppelins again? … The best damn musicals ever? … A Bieber fan complains
“KISS me Kate. Here we go again. It is impossible to overestimate quite how much the British like themselves — and impossible to underestimate quite how much the rest of the world dislikes the British … I can attest that both viewpoints are 100% correct, except that is, when it comes to English royal weddings.”
So says that man of the world, Taki, who prays this royal wedding won’t end in tragedy.
* * *
It’s lots of fun to pick up the newly revitalized Hollywood Reporter and see all the fine color photos of the late agent Ed Limato’s house in Coldwater Canyon. It’s up for sale and auction. There are all of Ed’s shoes and sunglasses, carefully filed, and colored linen jackets which he always used to visit Elton John, and there are the two huge stone lions given to the famous agent by Sylvester Stallone.
Looking at these photos brought back Ed Limato in all his glory. Then I saw the picture of the living room of his house with the very fireplace where I was standing one Oscar year when a beautiful young fresh Lindsay Lohan launched herself across the room, embraced me, and I was able to introduce her instantly to Barbara Walters.
But my favorite part of The Hollywood Reporter is its last page, with all the accoutrements of the Elizabeth Taylor, Mike Todd, Debbie Reynolds, and Eddie Fisher era. Think of it: the four of them were about to launch La Scandale wherein Mike dies in a plane crash, Elizabeth loses her mind and takes up with Eddie Fisher and Debbie becomes the baby-in-arms deserted wife with safety pins dangling from her blouse. (The baby was today’s comic Carrie Fisher.)
A funny line from a gossip column is presented. “Elizabeth Taylor ordered six hats, delivered as follows: to Mrs. Mike Todd, c/o Eddie Fisher, Tropicana, Las Vegas.”
* * *
This very Wednesday, Jan. 19th, writer Patricia Highsmith would have been 90 years old, had she lived. Now another excellent writer, Patty Bosworth (the delineator SP of both Marlon Brando and Montgomery Clift, for instance) is hosting a party to celebrate the Picador Publisher’s paperback version of a book by Joan Schenkar titled The Talented Miss Highsmith: The Secret Life and Serious Art of Patricia Highsmith. It happens at 454 W. 46th Street Apt 1A North. None other than the great actress Kathleen Chalfant will give a short presentation.
I actually met Patricia Highsmith when I was a bright young thing first come to New York from Texas. But she wasn’t about to be patronized or flattered by some ignorant kid. She had already written Strangers On A Train by then, and she knew how important she was.
* * *
Please don’t miss New York magazine’s symposium on what are Broadway’s greatest musicals wherein souls like Frank Rich, Nora Ephron, Jesse Green, Jonathan Tunick, George C. Wolfe opine. The winners seem to be “Gypsy,” “West Side Story” and “Guys and Dolls.” I’ll go along with that!
* * *
By 2030, the world will be flying in zeppelins once again, despite the horrifying fate of the Hindenberg falling in flames over in New Jersey back in 1936.
Lighter-than-air vehicles are nothing new but that disaster, caused by using flammable hydrogen rather than helium, pretty much did the zeppelin idea in.
Still, lots of new plans are in the works from Boeing, the British SkyHook as well as Lockheed. These new airships could carry 500 tons of cargo or 5000 passengers at once – and, zero pollution. The time has come!
* * *
When the conservative New York Post publishes an editorial against the 30-round repeating magazine for the Glock-19, well – surely a few of the even far-right Republicans and their cowardly Democratic colleagues may dare to twit the National Rifle Association and try to get these people-killing-magazines off the street.
But the most fearsome words in Washington remain – “the National Rifle Association.” Lack of true gun control is one of this nation’s greatest failures.
* * *
AS I EXPECTED, trying to explain myself further on Sarah Palin in last Friday’s column resulted in another avalanche of e-mails, most of which can be boiled down — to paraphrase the old “Saturday Night Live” insult thrown at Jane Curtin — “Liz, you ignorant slut!” (Among other things, I discover they say I am jealous of Mrs. Palin because she is young and beautiful and I am not.) I did receive a few intelligent e-mails of support.
* * *
BUT IT’s not just Palin fans who are irritated with Liz! I received a long and passionate note from a Justin Bieber fan, who feels I slandered the teen dream. I was commenting on his Vanity Fair cover story, and freely admitted I’d never seen him perform; I opined he’d probably go the way of most teen idols — but I hoped with more money!
But “Shelby from Colorado” thinks I was mean and unfair — that if I went to a Justin concert, I’d be converted. Shelby says “I don’t hate you.” I just need a dose of “Bieber Fever” to come to my senses.
This teenage girl wrote me a more reasoned letter than most of my adult critics.